Meng Zhao had not failed to notice Shen Jianglin before.
In fact, even before entering this academy, Meng Zhao had already heard the name "Shen Jianglin."
At the time, he had asked Mr. Zhang if there was anything he should pay attention to when substituting for him in class. Mr. Zhang had specifically mentioned Shen Jianglin's name, saying that this child's status was somewhat different—he came from the Marquis Rong'an household—but he had never been one to cause trouble. At the same time, in the pursuit of learning, he had no particular strengths, so there was no need to make things difficult for him; just keep a slight eye on him.
This was "no particular strengths in the pursuit of learning"?
Was Mr. Zhang's standard too high, or what?
But thinking of the performance of the other nine just now, that probably wasn't the case.
"Have you memorized this before?" Meng Zhao thought for a moment and asked.
Shen Jianglin shook his head and answered respectfully: "To answer Master Meng, I have read it a few times before, but I have never memorized the entire text."
Shen Jianglin was speaking the truth, so he was perfectly open and at ease. Meng Zhao could tell at a glance whether it was true or false.
A trace of curiosity rose in Meng Zhao's heart, and he could not help but ask: "Thus the gentleman must be cautious when alone—how do you interpret this?"
Meng Zhao had just explained this passage. Shen Jianglin integrated Meng Zhao's explanation with his own understanding and replied: "Even when a person is alone, he must restrain his morality and self-cultivation, and cannot afford to be lax. Sincerity within manifests without—this is what makes a true gentleman."
Meng Zhao nodded repeatedly and continued to press: "Thus the gentleman stops at nothing—how should this be interpreted?"
This was content that had not been covered today, yet Shen Jianglin still answered with ease: "King Wen of Zhou received the Mandate of Heaven, abolished the old and brought forth the new, causing an old dynasty to radiate fresh vitality. Therefore, a sovereign always exhausts every effort, striving tirelessly for the people of the world."
Meng Zhao went through essentially all the difficult points of the entire Great Learning from beginning to end, yet not a single question managed to stump Shen Jianglin.
At the same time, Meng Zhao discovered that this child, Shen Jianglin, possessed the bearing of a great general. No matter how aggressive his questions were or how fast his speech, when it came time for Shen Jianglin to answer, he remained as gentle as a spring breeze and unhurried, completely undisturbed by external factors.
A young prodigy—nothing more than this!
Whether he had studied it before or memorized it, just this memory and quickness of response alone set him far apart from ordinary beginning students.
Meng Zhao himself had been praised since childhood for his extraordinary intelligence—quick at memorizing texts, quick at understanding many phrases, and able to draw inferences from one example. But as for being as calm and composed as Shen Jianglin at the age of ten, he truly had not managed that.
The two went back and forth with questions and answers, and in an instant, over a dozen questions had passed. At first, some students could still follow along, but later it was as if they were listening to heavenly scripture—none of them understood what the two were saying. One by one, the looks they cast at Shen Jianglin shifted from expecting a good show to sheer astonishment!
The Shen Jianglin who had always been quiet and unremarkable—he was actually this formidable? Why had they never noticed before? Was it because he didn't like Mr. Zhang? So he had deliberately hidden his talents and been lax?
Although Meng Zhao was somewhat annoyed at having a paper ball thrown at him, discovering a young prodigy brought him even greater delight. Seeing that it was time to dismiss the class, Meng Zhao had Shen Jianglin sit back down and said to the other nine: "As for the rest of you, each of you will copy it five times."
Ignoring their groans and sighs, Meng Zhao assigned some other homework and then dismissed the students.
Although he admired Shen Jianglin, he was only a temporary substitute teacher and wouldn't be around for long. So while he admired him, Meng Zhao didn't seek out Shen Jianglin after class—he simply quietly noted this person in his heart.
Today there was copying to be done as punishment, but as soon as school let out, dozens of boys rushed outside. Yet today was destined to be anything but peaceful. No sooner had Meng Zhao just left the schoolhouse than Shen Wanjie grabbed hold of Guo Baocheng.
Having his collar seized from behind instantly enraged Guo Baocheng. He twisted around to look at Shen Wanjie and shouted angrily, "Let go!"
Shen Wanjie was already fourteen this year, considered one of the older students in the schoolhouse. Many of the younger children were somewhat afraid of Shen Wanjie's fists—which was also why no one had dared to step forward and report him earlier.
Shen Wanjie, leveraging his height advantage, gripped Guo Baocheng's collar tightly and mocked, "You little runt, go on and run!"
At these words, combined with the contrast between Guo Baocheng and Shen Wanjie's lanky build—Guo Baocheng was indeed short and stocky—the children gathered around watching the spectacle all clapped and burst into laughter.
However, they hadn't laughed more than a few times before they saw Guo Baocheng suddenly bend his body, then twist his whole self back around to face Shen Wanjie directly. With a tightly clenched fist, he drove it straight into Shen Wanjie's abdomen. Caught off guard by the pain, Shen Wanjie's grip loosened, and he lost his hold on Guo Baocheng.
Despite being three years younger than Shen Wanjie and considerably shorter, Guo Baocheng was by no means lacking in strength. Within a few moves he had knocked Shen Wanjie to the ground. Just as he was about to mount Shen Wanjie and rain down punches, Shen Wanjie rolled on the ground to create distance and scrambled to his feet, shouting to the people beside him, "Brothers, help me beat this little bastard to the ground! Let him know—this is our Shen family's turf, not this mongrel's!"
Shen Wanjie had always held considerable influence in the schoolhouse. Last time he'd fought Guo Baocheng one-on-one, he hadn't gotten the better of it, and today he was deliberately trying to reclaim his face. Immediately, people stepped forward to grab Guo Baocheng together—four or five against one. Surely they couldn't fail to beat him down?
To their surprise, Guo Baocheng showed no fear at all. Like an enraged little lion, he charged headfirst into the middle of them. Two students two or three years older than him were knocked to the ground by his brute force. But this only thoroughly enraged the others—immediately two more half-grown boys joined the fray, both brothers of those who'd been knocked down. Several of them tangled together. Even with all his strength, Guo Baocheng was no match for so many hands, and he was soon pinned to the ground, unable to move.
Shen Wanjie immediately perked up. He walked over and viciously kicked Guo Baocheng, and was just about to kick him a few more times to vent his anger when he heard a voice from behind: "Third Nephew, what a temper you have! Being so ruthless with a fellow student—aren't you afraid Auntie Zhou will be so upset she can't eat?"
The voice was somewhat familiar. Shen Wanjie hurriedly turned his head, and saw the crowd spontaneously part to form a path—it was Shen Jianglin stepping out.
Why him? Usually he was like a clam with its shell sealed shut, never saying an extra word, and never involving himself in their affairs. Why would he speak up for this mongrel today?
No wonder the mongrel was so cocky—he must have paid tribute to Shen Jianglin and gotten under his protection?
Shen Wanjie was quite puzzled, but after hearing Shen Jianglin give another "Hm?" he and the others still released Guo Baocheng and paid their respects to Shen Jianglin.
"I greet you, Uncle. It was this boy who spoke disrespectfully to me a few days ago, so I simply taught him a lesson today. It's hardly as serious as you make it out to be, Uncle."
Though Shen Jianglin was young in age, his seniority in the family hierarchy was one generation above Shen Wanjie, so he accepted the address of "Uncle" with complete composure.
After hearing Shen Wanjie's excuse, Shen Jianglin let out two cold snorts of laughter and looked at Shen Wanjie. "Third Nephew, do you really think I don't know who was actually responsible for our row having to copy books today? Since I didn't expose you in front of the teacher earlier, you'd better settle down. All this racket day in and day out is giving me a headache. If you can't be bothered to study, I'll send someone to have a word with Sister-in-law Zhou shortly. What do you all think?"
Earlier, Shen Jianglin hadn't known who threw the paper ball, but now could he still not know?
The moment Shen Jianglin said this, the younger boys' faces immediately turned ashen. No matter how much they fooled around in the classroom, if word reached their parents, they'd be in for a vicious beating. They instantly crowded around Shen Jianglin, all talking at once, begging for mercy. Even Shen Wanjie's expression changed. He hurriedly helped Guo Baocheng to his feet and dusted the dirt off him, then sidled up to Shen Jianglin with a grin, bowing and scraping, begging him to let the matter go this once.
Only after Shen Jianglin nodded and agreed not to tell their families did the students scatter like startled birds and beasts.
Guo Baocheng's small face was filthy. He was actually a year older than Shen Jianglin, yet Shen Jianglin had resolved the whole matter with just a few lightly spoken words. He himself hadn't provoked Shen Wanjie in any way, yet he'd been grabbed and beaten.
Guo Baocheng felt utterly miserable inside. He wanted to step forward and say a few words of thanks, but his feet felt as though they'd grown nails and he couldn't move. He'd just been stepped on several times, his body covered in footprints, and the clothes he wore were only coarse cotton. Even if he approached, would that Young Master Shen—draped in a fox-fur-collared cloak and shod in sheepskin boots—even deign to look at him properly?
While Guo Baocheng stood there tangled in hesitation, Shen Jianglin had already left with the servant boy who had come to fetch him, leaving Guo Baocheng alone in the courtyard that had been so noisy just moments before, staring blankly into space.
The sun slanted low in the west, the north wind biting with cold. Crows cawed mournfully on the withered branches. Guo Baocheng shivered in the cold wind, picked up the book bag that had been thrown to the ground and dusted it off, then hurriedly clutched it to his chest and ran home.
Meng Zhao, who had originally been called back, happened to witness the entire scene. He nodded with some gratification, and a great deal of goodwill rose in his heart toward this second young master of the Rong'an Marquis Estate—clever, steady, and above all kindhearted. Truly remarkable!
People always harbor a bit more fondness for those they feel goodwill toward. Previously, Meng Zhao had wondered why Mr. Zhang's assessment of Shen Jianglin was so mediocre, but now he felt that as a son born of a concubine in a marquis estate, Shen Jianglin must have his own difficulties. In the future, he resolved to teach him with even greater dedication, so as not to fail this bond of master and disciple.
Shen Jianglin had no idea what Meng Zhao was thinking. At the time, he had simply been unable to stomach the way Shen Wanjie and the others bullied the weak, and he hadn't expected any repayment from Guo Baocheng. It was merely a small kindness done on impulse, straight from the heart.
Now that Shen Jianglin had his own courtyard, he went straight back to "Qingfeng Yuan" after school was dismissed. The Shen Clan School began classes at the start of the chen hour (7 AM) and dismissed at the start of the shen hour (3 PM). Each day, students could have one free midday meal there. If the children got hungry in between, they could bring their own snacks.
Pastries took effort to make and were expensive. For most people, being able to gnaw on a red date steamed bun was already considered quite good. Only Shen Jianglin brought pastries every day. Today's pastry was walnut cookies. After eating two too many, he felt a little greasy, so he accompanied them with a cup of clear tea. After finishing, he felt very comfortable.
Since he had already eaten snacks at the school, Shen Jianglin did not feel hungry after returning. He directly spread out his books and prepared to review the day's lessons and complete Mr. Meng's after-class assignments.
When Nanny Wang saw that Shen Jianglin had begun to study diligently, she hurriedly shooed the little maids in the room out quietly, then sat down in the eastern side room by the window to do needlework, listening to the sounds inside.
Since Shen Jianglin had decided to walk the path of the Keju, he naturally took it very seriously. He had already mastered everything learned today, so what came next was practicing calligraphy.
The original owner's handwriting was still immature, and he practiced the most popular Guan-ge Style of the time. Shen Jianglin had studied running script and cursive script in modern times, and his calligraphy level was considerably better than the original body's. But now he had to change the character forms while also making sure no one could tell that the person inside had been swapped out. Gradually changing the font and the feel of the writing still required a certain amount of effort, so writing the large characters took quite a while.
By the time Shen Jianglin finished writing, it was already time to light the lamps. The oil lamps and candles in the room had long since been lit, and he felt a bit hungry as well, so he ordered the meal to be set.
Shen Jianglin stretched and walked to the small hall where the meal was laid out. But after one glance at the dishes on the table, his eyes suddenly darkened.
Two meat dishes and two vegetable dishes were all well and good—he was a child and could not eat much anyway. But using yellowed vegetable leaves to stir-fry, and a plate of braised chicken with only a bit of chicken frame and a few scraps of meat left, was that not going a little too far?