Chapter Sixty-Four: Books Cannot Be Read Without Borrowing

Before his journey through time, Zhou Zhi had attended countless social gatherings, where drinking was unavoidable. Since arriving in Ming, however, this was the first time he had tasted wine. Though the Zhou family possessed half a jar of osmanthus wine gifted to his father, Zhou Tie, by Uncle Zhang, Zhou Zhi had never sampled it himself.

Wine in Ming was far milder than what he knew from later eras, with a far lower alcohol content. Yet, what made this Peach Blossom Wine rare was its genuine grain fermentation, giving it a much richer fragrance than modern counterparts.

The wine was soft on the palate, and the three men began toasting one another and drinking heartily. Indeed, it was truly hearty drinking—Northerners were known for their forthrightness, and by coincidence, both Lü Xingchuan and Fan Jin were fond of drink, each with a robust capacity. Zhou Zhi’s body was already sturdy, so he too drained bowl after bowl, earning the silent admiration of both companions.

The meal lasted nearly half an hour, leaving all three sated with food and wine. Of a dozen steamed buns, Zhou Zhi alone consumed nearly half—he simply had a prodigious appetite. Now that he and Lü Xingchuan and Fan Jin had formed a bond across generations, there was no need for restraint.

Both Lü Xingchuan and Fan Jin were men unconcerned with trifles, and seeing Zhou Zhi’s straightforwardness, their affection for him only grew.

After the meal, the three sat down at the writing desk once more. Lü Xingchuan glanced at Zhou Zhi and asked, “Zhou Zhi, one does not come to the Three Treasures Hall for no reason. Tell me, what brings you here today?”

For half the day, Zhou Zhi had chatted idly with the two, raising their spirits, but had not found a chance to mention borrowing books. Now, with Lü Xingchuan’s question, Zhou Zhi smiled awkwardly, then explained how he had tried to borrow books from the old scholar Wang Ding, and how Wang Ding, threatened by others, was forced to burn all his books.

This he had to tell Lü Xingchuan, for it was because Wang Ding lent him books that trouble had come upon the old man. If Lü Xingchuan harbored similar worries, Zhou Zhi thought, then borrowing from him would be impossible.

A gentleman must always speak frankly.

No sooner had Zhou Zhi finished than, before Lü Xingchuan could reply, Fan Jin sneered, “Hmph! That old Wang Ding—afraid of a few local ruffians? He’s shamed the scholarly name. If I see that old coward again, I’ll certainly give him a piece of my mind.”

He was indignant.

Lü Xingchuan’s brow furrowed slightly. He chuckled, “So, Brother Fan, you have such boldness? Perhaps we should entrust the matter of lending books to you.”

Fan Jin replied without hesitation, “If our young friend does not lend, then I most certainly will. How could a talent like Zhou Zhi’s be hindered by a few volumes?”

Though he spoke with bravado, a flush crept up his aged cheeks. He was, after all, also just a scholar—those who had troubled Wang Ding were not to be trifled with, and he himself would be hard-pressed to handle them. Yet, having found such rapport with Zhou Zhi in half a day, and feeling as though they were friends despite the age difference, he was willing to take the risk.

Lü Xingchuan stood up, laughing, “Brother Fan, I was only teasing. If Zhou Zhi comes to borrow books, how could I possibly refuse?”

“Haha! That’s more like it. I imagine Zhou Zhi’s troubles come only from some small town gentry. With a family like Lü’s, why should you fear such petty men?” Fan Jin said, his expression quickly returning to normal.

Zhou Zhi listened quietly. He could easily tell that if Fan Jin were to lend him books, he would do so out of obligation, not courage—but he would do it for friendship’s sake.

A gentleman does not impose on others, and Zhou Zhi would not put him in a difficult position.

But Lü Xingchuan was different. He was composed, unconcerned with the so-called ruffians and the wealthy, showing no trace of fear. When Zhou Zhi mentioned borrowing books, Lü Xingchuan agreed without hesitation.

Fan Jin was a scholar, Lü Xingchuan merely a licentiate, though also a group leader. With such standing, why did he not fear the likes of the Chen family from Baiyue Village?

Zhou Zhi was tempted to ask, but after some thought, he held back.

Lü Xingchuan took Zhou Zhi by the hand and, turning, pointed to the bookcases. “Take a look, my friend. My Lü family may lack in other things, but our collection of books is not small. I dare not say the whole county, but in the entire Gaochang Town, I doubt anyone’s library surpasses mine—not even the distinguished scholar Cheng Ke.”

He spoke truly. The large study was lined on all sides with bookcases, each shelf filled neatly with books.

No wonder—Lü Xingchuan had read since childhood, passed the licentiate exam at eighteen, and read voraciously in the years since, now over forty. Repeated failures in the examinations only drove him to collect books more obsessively.

He continued, “Zhou Zhi, as Brother Fan said, I truly do not fear petty troublemakers. I’ve already told you: my home is yours; take as many books as you wish. To tell the truth, even Scholar Fan often comes to borrow from me!”

Fan Jin waved this off. “Didn’t the ancients say, ‘Books must be borrowed to be read’? Why should I not borrow from you?”

“No matter!” Lü Xingchuan laughed.

Zhou Zhi had only finished two of the Four Books. Since Lü Xingchuan insisted, he decided not to hold back and took The Mencius, The Doctrine of the Mean, and the five classics—The Book of Changes, The Book of Documents, The Book of Songs, The Book of Rites, and The Spring and Autumn Annals.

Zhou Zhi took so many at once, but Lü Xingchuan showed no reluctance. He figured Zhou Zhi simply wished to avoid troubling him repeatedly and would take his time reading at home.

But Fan Jin said, “Young friend, let me caution you—reading cannot be done in haste. To be greedy is to choke. I know you are clever, but for ordinary folk, reading all these would take three or four years; you will need at least two.”

Zhou Zhi smiled, “You are absolutely right, Brother Fan. Reading should proceed step by step, but for me, time is pressing. I plan to take the preliminary exam the year after next, so I must read quickly.”

“You plan to take the exam the year after next?” Fan Jin’s eyes widened in shock, and even Lü Xingchuan beside him was surprised.

But seeing Zhou Zhi so serious, and recalling his poem about snow in Yashan, they were left uncertain.

Fan Jin paused, then his eyes shone with admiration. He stepped forward and patted Zhou Zhi’s shoulder. “Good! Whether you succeed or not, your ambition alone commands my respect. If you truly take the exam the year after next, you and Lü Xingchuan will be sitting for the scholar’s exam together! I sincerely hope you both succeed.

Zhou Zhi, if you have any difficulty in your studies, come to the Lü house to find me. Ha!”

He glanced at Lü Xingchuan and added, “Of course, your Brother Lü has read even more than I; he can help you as well.”

At this, Zhou Zhi hurriedly bowed. “Thank you, both of you!”

In later times, Zhou Zhi had little exposure to the Four Books and Five Classics, and there would surely be much he did not understand. Without a teacher, with Fan Jin and Lü Xingchuan’s guidance, he would improve rapidly.

Fan Jin put on a stern face. “You’re too formal—so many courtesies! The three of us are friends despite our ages; what need for these rituals?”

Lü Xingchuan agreed, “Exactly, as Brother Fan said—if you have any questions, come to me at any time. I may not always have the answers, but three cobblers together can match Zhuge Liang!”

Fan Jin’s beard quivered with excitement as he sighed, “The realm is at peace, and the imperial examinations are the only path to office. Chancellor Xu is upright and loves talent—it is a golden age for men of ambition to make their mark!”

Zhou Zhi knew, of course, that the Chancellor Xu he spoke of was the Grand Secretary Xu Pu of the Hall of Supreme Harmony.