Chapter Nine: On the Matter of Reading

In Zhou Zhi’s eyes, his cheap father, though hardworking and diligent, had one defining trait: he was meek and easily bullied outside, but at home, he was surly and tyrannical. Toward Zhou Zhi, he always wore a dark, stern face, almost never showing him a kind expression, let alone the warmth or care one would expect from a loving father. He was, in fact, the very opposite of a “benevolent parent.”

That was why, when his father uttered such unexpected words today, Zhou Zhi was truly surprised. A warm current surged suddenly in his heart—he had not imagined his distant father possessed such a side. He could not help but pause, almost holding his breath to listen to what his father would say next.

“Old Brother Zhang was right yesterday. Xiao Zhi shouldn’t have gone to the Chen family to apologize. Since we’ve already offended them, there’s no use in doing so. Ah, I admit, I was intimidated by the Chen family, but a man can’t be spineless his whole life.

By the way, wife, how is it that Xiao Zhi suddenly became literate? And he knows so many characters, I truly can’t fathom it.” Zhou Tie’s tone was uncharacteristically gentle.

“A month ago, the boy fell in the fields, and after he woke up from that faint, I noticed many changes in him. It seems the fall awakened something—his mind is sharper, and his thoughts more agile. Husband, have you considered that with a mind like his, perhaps he truly could make something of himself through study? Didn’t Old Brother Zhang say yesterday too that the child is cut out for learning?” Zhou He-shi replied softly.

For a long moment, Zhou Tie was silent. Finally, he spoke, “Study? Have you not seen the scholars in town and county, reading until their hair turns white, yet never gaining fame or fortune, their families left in shambles?

Though Xiao Zhi has suddenly learned so many characters, I still don’t think he’s scholar material. Our Zhou family has been farmers for generations, never producing a single scholar. Even if Xiao Zhi were to study, I doubt he’d achieve anything noteworthy.

Besides, he’s already past the age for primary learning. Master Wang at the community school wouldn’t accept him now. And with the endless work at home, how could we ever get by without Xiao Zhi? Study is for the wealthy—how can our poor family survive on my labor alone?

Ah! Old Brother Zhang sometimes has good intentions, but he doesn’t always see the whole picture.”

Zhou Zhi could tell that though his father didn’t support him studying, his words were steeped in helplessness.

After a pause, Zhou Tie continued, “If Heaven truly favored our Zhou family with a scholar, I think it ought to be Xiao Cheng. Xiao Cheng is clever, but frail and often ill—unsuited to farm work. If our days were even a little easier, we’d send him to the community school.

Wife, take good care of those hens. The weather’s colder, but they’re still laying eggs. Once we’ve saved up a few dozen, I’ll sell them in town and put the money aside. And since Xiao Zhi’s wager with Young Master Chen saved us three bushels of wheat seed, we must make that stretch as well. Next year, when we sell some grain, we’ll have enough for Xiao Cheng’s school fees.

He’ll be seven next year—the perfect age to start at the community school. We’ll let him study for a year, see if he shows promise.”

“Yes, you’re right, husband. Let’s do as you say.” Zhou He-shi, ever gentle, replied softly.

Zhou Tie seemed not quite finished. He went on, “As for Xiao Zhi, he’s fifteen this year—sixteen next. He’s already of marrying age. If things improve a little next year, we should find him a good, honest girl from a neighboring village and settle his marriage.”

“Yes, Xiao Zhi is grown now. We can’t let our poverty delay his marriage prospects,” Zhou He-shi said hurriedly.

“We must live frugally,” Zhou Tie sighed, “I just hope the Chen family doesn’t cause us any more trouble.” He suddenly remembered the Chens and fell into a series of deep, weary sighs.

Though his parents did not intend for him to pursue his studies, Zhou Zhi’s heart was moved as he listened. His father and mother always put the family first, always thought of their children. To have a home with such parental love, even if poor, was something to be grateful for.

Still, Zhou Zhi believed he must study, must sit for the imperial examinations. Since Heaven had shown him favor, granting him a second chance at life, he was determined to live it to the fullest—not muddle through in obscurity.

He crept quietly back to the bedroom. His younger brother, Zhou Shaocheng, was sound asleep, though he slept restlessly, always kicking off his quilt. Zhou Zhi gently covered him, then took out the roast chicken leg he’d gotten from Tiger Egg and placed it by his brother’s pillow. Only then did he remove his shoes and lie down, fully clothed, on the heated brick bed.

…

“The weather’s lovely today, Mother. Isn’t Xiao Zhi up yet? It’s the perfect day to dry the rice.” His sister, Zhou Luyun, had returned early from a neighbor’s house and spoke to their mother outside.

“Let him sleep a bit longer—he was busy all night,” their mother replied softly, afraid to wake him.

Zhou Zhi opened his drowsy eyes. He’d slept less than an hour, and he truly felt exhausted. But it was a new day. Though the fieldwork was done, three or four more bushels of rice still needed to be dried at home, and the dried grain had to be pounded. His sister couldn’t manage all this on her own.

He rolled off the bed and glanced at his little brother, who was now curled up under the quilt, happily gnawing on the chicken leg and grinning at him. Zhou Zhi reached out to gently stroke the child’s head. “Eat slowly, enjoy it,” he whispered.

“It’s delicious, really delicious! Brother, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had chicken legs to eat every day?” Zhou Shaocheng said, tilting his head.

“Don’t worry, little brother. Sooner or later, we’ll have chicken legs every day,” Zhou Zhi reassured him before hurrying out to the main room.

His mother was making breakfast. Zhou Luyun was just parking their battered old wheelbarrow in the yard, preparing to load the rice bags and wheel them to the drying ground. Each bag weighed about half a bushel and was heavy for Luyun to handle alone. When Zhou Zhi had been working in the fields, these chores naturally fell to his sister.

All along, Luyun had worked hard for their poor family. Last year, her marriage was arranged with a modest family surnamed Hu from Gaochang Town. The Hu family ran a small silk and cotton shop—not wealthy, but decent. They’d agreed on a winter wedding this year, but Luyun, worried about her family, wanted to help her parents a bit longer and postponed the wedding another year, until next winter.

Today, Zhou Zhi wasn’t going to the fields—how could he let his sister do this heavy work?

“Wait, Sister, I’ll move the rice,” he said quickly.

Luyun smiled and nodded.

Zhou Zhi then went to his parents’ room to check on his father, whose back had been injured five or six days ago. The poultice from Dr. Qiu Huichun of Baiyue Village had helped, and Zhou Tie could now sit up in bed. Zhou Zhi asked with concern, “Father, is your back feeling better?”

His father’s face remained stern. He didn’t look at Zhou Zhi, just grunted a heavy “Mm!” through his nose.

“Rest well, don’t move about. In a few more days, you’ll be able to walk slowly again,” Zhou Zhi advised in a gentle voice.

“Mm!”

Though his father’s tone was gruff, Zhou Zhi no longer minded. Having overheard his conversation last night, Zhou Zhi now understood—his father was hard in speech but soft at heart, deeply loving toward his children.

Returning to the main room, Zhou Zhi lifted a sack of rice from the corner and strode out to the wheelbarrow in the yard.

Each sack weighed sixty or seventy catties, but he felt no strain—this body was hearty and strong. With such a good constitution, he had the foundation for a promising future.

Just as he placed a bag on the cart, Aunt Li from next door entered the yard. She called out, “Sister Zhou, have you seen a hen around these past two days?”