I can solve this problem!

After leaving the Li residence, Song Sanlang still felt somewhat unreal about the situation. The old lady had to go to great lengths, pulling strings and calling in favors, just to secure a chance for Rui Ge’er to meet a renowned master. Yet when it came to his own son, all it took was eating a few grapes, and the other party eagerly offered to introduce him to a great scholar?

Song Sanlang asked his son, “Chen Ge’er, what exactly did you say to Uncle Li? Tell your father.”

Song Jingchen wasn’t about to tell the truth. Blinking innocently, he said, “Chen Ge’er was too busy eating grapes to say anything to Uncle Li. Here, Father, try one—it’s delicious.”

As he spoke, Song Jingchen plucked a grape from the basket and placed it in his father’s palm.

Li Yishan insisted on bringing gifts for the child, and Song Sanlang couldn’t refuse. Besides grapes, the basket contained several packets of exquisite pastries and snacks.

Looking at his simple-minded son who always had food on his mind, Song Sanlang could only conclude that the boy’s charm and the old master’s fondness for him explained everything. Otherwise, he couldn’t fathom what exactly made them take a liking to Jingchen.

The Li family residence wasn’t far from the Song household—about less than half an hour’s walk.

But Song Jingchen refused to walk even a step with his father following him; he insisted on being carried, clinging to his father’s leg and pouting, “Dad, my leg hurts. Carry me.”

Song Sanlang refused, scolding, “Why didn’t you say your leg hurt when you were running around at Uncle Li’s place, making me worry?” Thinking of his own embarrassment at the Li household today, all thanks to this little troublemaker, Song Sanlang was inwardly furious.

Song Jingchen lifted his face and said, “Chen Ge’er was wrong. He shouldn’t have worried Dad. Next time, he won’t run around. Dad, carry me.”

The child’s quick apology made Song Sanlang want to scold him, but instead, he bent down and picked him up, giving him three gentle pats on the little bottom. The slaps made a loud sound but didn’t hurt.

Song Jingchen wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and giggled, “It hurts, it hurts! Dad, you’re hurting me so much!”

“You still dare to laugh? You nearly scared me to death.”

“Dad just scares himself. Chen Ge’er isn’t a three-year-old anymore. He knew there were no traps in Uncle Li’s house, so he dared to explore. He also remembered what Dad said about staying away from water. Chen Ge’er saw the lotus pods but didn’t pick them. Shouldn’t Dad praise him?”

Song Sanlang said, “Knowing to stay away from water deserves praise, and resisting temptation makes you a good boy. But running off without telling Dad is wrong. I don’t want this to happen again. Remember that?”

Song Jingchen thought, if I told you, could I still run?

But he said, “Chen Ge’er is a good boy and listens to Dad.” Then he affectionately hugged Song Sanlang’s neck, resting his little head on his shoulder to show how obedient he was.

Song Sanlang couldn’t resist the child’s tender coaxing. His voice softened. “You must keep your word.”

Along the way, Song Sanlang reminded his son not to tell anyone at home about today’s events to avoid affecting his older brother.

Song Jingchen nodded, understanding. He had no intention of telling the family. He never liked studying, even less so this great scholar—whoever he was—they all just stopped him from having fun, so he wasn’t interested.

Back home, as soon as the father and son entered the door, Xiuniang happily ran over, pulling Song Sanlang and his son to see the new fabrics she had bought.

“Sanlang, come quickly! Look at the fabric I picked. This large piece could make a bellyband for our Chen Ge’er. Feel it—it’s so soft.”

After making her husband touch the fabric, she pressed it against her son’s cheek and smiled, “Chen Ge’er, is it comfortable?”

Song Jingchen blinked and honestly said, “Mother, it’s so smooth, not itchy at all.”

“That’s because the shopkeeper said these are leftover fine materials from wealthy families’ clothes. I want our Chen Ge’er to wear fine clothes fit for a young master. Do you like it?”

Hearing this, Song Jingchen frowned slightly. “Mother, why should Chen Ge’er wear what the rich kids don’t want?”

Xiuniang was stunned. Her enthusiasm was crushed by her son’s words. She knew many people were scrambling for these fabrics, including her elder sisters-in-law. She had only managed to get the best pieces by virtue of her strength.

Her son’s words suddenly made her feel hurt.

Seeing the redness in her eyes, Song Jingchen realized he had said something wrong and hurriedly hugged her, “Chen Ge’er will grow up and earn money to buy you many beautiful clothes and big golden bracelets. Mother, please don’t cry.”

Xiuniang hugged her son and pinched his plump cheek, “You’re just sweet-talking.”

Song Sanlang stood aside, feeling for the first time that without the prestige of their background, he was just an ordinary man—a worthless old man who couldn’t even support his wife and child.

He quietly stepped forward and pinched the other side of his son’s cheek. “Your mother is my woman. She doesn’t need you to buy her clothes. I’ll buy her beautiful clothes and big golden bracelets.”

“And what do you mean by ‘what others don’t want’? The fabric even bears the names of the families it came from. Once sold in the shop, whoever buys it owns it. We don’t steal or rob; we pay with our own hard-earned silver. What’s so inferior about that?”

“If you don’t want it, I do. This piece looks good. Xiuniang, help me make a handkerchief. Hmm... this one’s fine too; I need a purse.”

“Dad, that piece belongs to me!”

“No, I like it too.”

“The bigger one should be for the smaller one.”

“Don’t you know the story of Kong Rong giving up pears?”

Father and son began playfully fighting over the scraps of cloth on the bed.

“Mother, you have to stop your husband! He’s bullying your good son.”

Xiuniang watched the two make a mess, and her tears turned to laughter as she pulled on Song Sanlang’s arm.

“No bullying my son.”

“He’s my son too. Isn’t it natural for a father to bully his kid?” Song Sanlang laughed.

“Bad—Dad!”

“How dare you call your father bad? See how I’ll deal with you.” He tickled the child’s soft spot.

Song Jingchen, ticklish, giggled and rolled on the bed, kicking Song Sanlang with his little feet.

Song Sanlang grabbed his ankle and tickled his little foot, “You brat, with your tiny arms and legs, how dare you act up against your father?”

“Dad... hahaha—surrender... hahaha—Dad, I surrender.”

“Sanlang, stop teasing him; he’ll get a stitch in his side.” Xiuniang worried about her son.

Song Sanlang knew when to stop. He helped his son catch his breath and wiped the fine sweat from his forehead, then deliberately put on a stern face.

“Will you dare to be unruly with Dad again?”

Song Jingchen, still panting, said, “No, no more.”

Song Sanlang asked, “Is Dad good or bad?”

“Dad is the best.”

Xiuniang gently patted her son, “Chen Ge’er, no more disrespect. Your father works very hard to support the family. He’s already thirty years old but still does work like a twenty-year-old. Look how tanned he is. He works so hard to save money for your future wife. You must cherish your father.”

Song Jingchen looked at his father with concern. “Don’t make Dad work so hard. Chen Ge’er will earn money to marry his own wife.”

Song Sanlang was speechless.

He suddenly realized that his ultimate goal was to save money for his son to get married.

...

Five days later, the Earl of Yongchang’s residence sent a messenger with a letter and a test paper from the great scholar Chen. The test was not on the classics or literature but a problem in mathematics. It stated that if Rui Ge’er could solve this problem, he would be accepted as Chen’s student.

The Song family was stunned, and even Rui Ge’er was at a loss. Since the age of three, he had been diligently studying poetry and prose, but he had never touched mathematics.

The family wanted to help but couldn’t, as none of them knew the subject. Song Sanlang could help but was forbidden to.

Chen, a wise man, naturally wouldn’t ask a question he couldn’t expect the boy to solve easily. His question was a test of Rui Ge’er’s depth of knowledge in mathematics. By casually giving a few more problems, he could gauge Rui Ge’er’s ability.

The other brothers quickly realized this too, which made them all frustrated and disheartened. This was an open-book exam, yet there was no way to cheat.

Song Jingrui clenched the math problem tightly, his eyes reddening.

The old lady called her little grandson over, “Rui Ge’er, come to Grandmother.”

Song Jingrui obeyed, choking on his words, “Grandson has disappointed Grandmother.”

“Foolish child, why cry? There’s a saying: Man proposes, God disposes. My grandson has already done his best, hasn’t he?”

The old lady took out a handkerchief to wipe her grandson’s tears and said, “Without butcher Zhang, you can’t eat a hairy pig, right? Without great scholar Chen, and also great scholars Li and Wang, even if they all look down on my grandson, he can still strive to improve himself. Let those who doubt you today look up to you tomorrow.”

Hearing her words, Song Jingrui held back his tears and spoke clearly, word by word, “Those who achieve great things, like Su Qin of old, would hang their heads from beams and prick their thighs with awls. I will surely emulate them.”

Beside him, Song Jingchen touched his own tender little leg. Even a mosquito bite felt itchy; pricking with an awl must hurt terribly.

Is his brother crazy?

He hadn’t thought that his eldest uncle, second uncle, and eldest brother had surely heard the same words from grandmother, yet none of them had passed the imperial exam.

Who knew if that Su Qin really did such things? Even if he did, if hanging your head from beams and pricking your thighs guaranteed success, wouldn’t all the awls in the capital be snapped up?

Besides, grandmother’s words weren’t always reliable. Just the other day, she said his brother couldn’t fly high on his own. Now that he failed to find a tutor, she changed her tune. Adults are the biggest liars—can’t trust them!

“Now, there is a cage with pheasants and rabbits. On top are thirty-five heads, below are ninety-four feet. How many pheasants and rabbits are there?”

What kind of ridiculous question was that? Why not just open the cage and count? It was clearly meant to be tricky.

Suddenly, Song Jingchen’s little head lit up. He shouted, “Brother, I can solve this!”