The Old Master glanced at his eldest daughter-in-law once more, whereupon the Aunt reluctantly produced a small box containing scattered silver fragments, two strings of copper coins, and numerous worthless Imperial Certificates of Exchange.
“This is the family’s gift for your new life. Use it to buy household necessities,” said the Old Master, handing it to the Youngest Daughter-in-law. All of this came from yesterday’s gift money.
Although they hadn’t pooled contributions, could the clansmen really come to eat empty-handed? That would be too undignified. So everyone had given some gift money, though certainly much less than pooled contributions would amount to.
“Yes, thank you, Father.” Youngest Aunt received the money box with both hands.
“When you get to the county seat, don’t let Third Son handle the money. That boy can’t shake off his young master temperament – he’ll squander any amount you give him,” the Old Master added.
Cui Cui nodded, indicating she would remember. The Uncle showed no objection either; after the trouble he’d stirred up with that single blunder, he had become completely subdued.
“Although your father said he’d hire a maid to serve you for a year, I’m not comfortable with just an outsider. Someone from the family should go along to care for you too.” The Old Master sighed softly. “Your Aunt would be the best choice, but she’s not suitable…”
Upon hearing this, the younger Aunt bowed her head sadly. She was actually several years older than the Uncle and had naturally been betrothed before. But her first fiancé had fallen ill and died before the wedding. The year before last, she was matched with a Zongqi Officer, only for the intended groom to tragically die in battle while suppressing the rebellious Miao tribes in Bozhou just before their wedding…
After these repeated misfortunes, the younger Aunt had gained an unlucky reputation. She hadn’t even appeared during yesterday’s joyous occasion, let alone being suitable to attend something as perilous as childbirth.
“So your eldest sister-in-law will stay with you for a year or so. She’s sharp-tongued but soft-hearted – sometimes she speaks without thinking, so don’t take it to heart,” the Old Master finally instructed.
The Youngest Aunt, who might not yet understand what kind of person her eldest sister-in-law was, agreed immediately. Of course, even if she did understand, it wouldn’t matter. In the Su family, when the Old Master spoke, everyone complied.
Su Lu silently sympathized with his Youngest Aunt – her days of peaceful tranquility were over…
~~
Before dawn the next day, the Old Master brought the entire family to see the Uncle and his wife off at the wooden pier on the riverbank.
Moored at the pier was a ‘Wry-butt Boat’ commonly seen on the Chishui River, so named for its most distinctive feature: a tall, right-leaning stern where the boatman stood wielding a giant oar, appearing to float in mid-air.
This design naturally helped navigate the Chishui River’s winding, treacherous rapids. Even so, it could only sail during the current dry season. When the rainy season came with its rushing currents and hidden reefs, no one would dare take the risk.
Elder Master Cheng and his eldest son were already waiting on the boat, responsible for delivering the couple to the county seat.
Watching the boatman ply the ten-foot-long giant oar, guiding the Wry-butt Boat downstream, the Old Master breathed a long sigh of relief.
After a full month, he had finally cleaned up Third Son’s mess…
As he relaxed, his back hunched over again, the man utterly exhausted.
“Truly, many children bring many descendants and many troubles.” The Old Master reached into his pouch and pulled out a betel leaf roll. He first held it under his nose, taking a deep breath of its fresh, intoxicating aroma before placing it in his mouth to chew. The pungent, spicy, and fragrant flavor instantly filled his mouth, then shot straight to his scalp, finally giving him the strength to walk home.
After returning home, he slipped back into his listless state—eating three meals a day, napping twice, and speaking no more than ten sentences. It was unclear how long he would need to recuperate before mustering another burst of energy.
His grandson, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Su Lu began burning with intense determination, launching into a final fourteen-day sprint before the exams!
~~
Anyone who has studied knows the importance of “sharpening the spear at the last moment.” The pre-exam period is the most effective time for boosting scores—every minute is precious!
At this point, Su Lu still had 53,000 characters left to learn, along with a pile of review material.
Su Youcai had already panicked like a dog, muttering incessantly, “There’s not enough time, not enough time…”
But Su Lu remained calm—he was a seasoned veteran in this regard. Back in his university days, except for major subjects like English and advanced mathematics, he typically only met his review materials for other courses for the first time one or two weeks before exams, as if greeting them with a polite “Nice to meet you, please go easy on me.”
Memorizing an entire course’s exam content in a single day was standard practice for him. Though he forgot everything immediately after the exam, at least he managed to scrape through… While the main reason he never failed was likely the teachers’ leniency, one couldn’t deny the remarkable effectiveness of short-term, high-intensity memorization!
He believed his younger body, after three months of day-and-night cramming, had reached peak memory capacity and would perform even better this time!
Of course, Su Lu didn’t dive in recklessly. He meticulously recalculated and reorganized his schedule—first, his small regular script had barely reached a passable level. As his elder brother put it, while it still had no redeeming qualities, it wouldn’t disgust the examiner enough to deduct points for penmanship.
Su Youcai added that he benefited from taking exams in the twelfth lunar month—the coldest time of year when everyone’s hands were stiff. Since the children’s foundational skills were still lacking, their handwriting would inevitably suffer. Thus, everyone’s exam papers would look similarly messy…
So Su Lu temporarily canceled his daily two-hour calligraphy practice. At his current writing level, simply copying passages would maintain his muscle memory without dedicated practice.
This freed up fourteen two-hour blocks over fourteen days—all effective study time, equivalent to nearly two extra days.
Second, he reduced repeated reviews to just four sessions: twenty minutes, one hour, one day, and seven days after initial learning. In the final days before exams, he cut this to three reviews. This approach gifted him another two days for new material.
Effectively, he now had eighteen days of study time. Averaging 3,000 characters daily would total 54,000 characters—perfectly matching what he needed, neither more nor less!
Su Youcai watched this masterful time management in awe, half-tempted to bow before this grandmaster and learn the secrets of scheduling.
~~
Though time was finally barely sufficient, Su Lu still pushed to improve memorization efficiency, squeezing out extra moments to daily review material from his first month of study…
If he somehow failed spectacularly and didn’t even qualify for the written exam, that would be truly humiliating.
For this reason, he slept only four hours daily, reciting texts while awake and even mumbling them in his dreams.
In these final days, he cut off all distractions, never stepping outside, even taking his meals in his room.
Whenever Aunt came to deliver food, she felt uneasy. She saw yellow Banana Leaf Paper covering the table, bed, floor, all four walls, and even the ceiling. Each sheet was marked with black lines resembling tree branches.
Qiu Ge’er sat cross-legged in the center, murmuring to the papers without even shifting his gaze while eating.
When Aunt tried to tidy up, Qiu Ge’er sharply stopped her, startling her into raising both hands and tiptoeing out as if navigating a minefield.
As she exited, she bumped into her elder brother returning from duty.
“What’s going on? You’re pale as a ghost—did you see a spirit?” Uncle asked curiously.
“Shh, Qiu Ge’er seems to be performing some ritual…” Aunt hurriedly made a silencing gesture and whispered, “Don’t disturb him.”
“Oh.” Uncle quickly covered his mouth, finding this perfectly reasonable. Cramming at the last minute before exams was only human nature.
He then quietly told Aunt, “Later, have Second Brother take him to Guanyin Mountain to pray—that’s surely better than his random worship.”
“Okay.” Aunt responded, thinking to herself: Isn’t that a place for praying for children?
Su Lu was certainly not conducting any mysterious ritual—he was using what’s called the ‘Memory Palace Method.’
This is an ingenious associative memory technique that works by combining memorized content with spatial scenes to aid in information retention and recall.
During exams, we often encounter situations where we know we’ve memorized certain knowledge points but simply can’t recall the specific content. This indicates a failure in memory retrieval.
The Memory Palace solves this problem. The specific method involves systematically anchoring knowledge points to familiar environments—exactly as he was doing. The thirty-three Banana Leaf Papers hanging on the wall before him represented the thirty-three chapters of ‘Chapters and Sentences of the Doctrine of the Mean.’
The first paper from the right was Chapter One: “What Heaven confers is called nature.”
The twelfth paper was Chapter Twelve: “The way of the superior man is vast and yet hidden.”
The twenty-second paper was Chapter Twenty-Two: “Sincerity is the way of Heaven.”
The other three walls similarly displayed ‘Collected Annotations to Mencius,’ while ‘Collected Commentaries on the Analects’ occupied the ceiling and floor.
As for ‘Great Learning: Chapter and Sentence,’ they were neatly arranged in order on the table…
Su Lu faced the walls day after day to strengthen these knowledge-space connections. His seclusion served to prevent information contamination that might weaken these associations.
Once he established solid connections, this room became his Memory Palace!
This method proves extremely effective for memorizing large amounts of information. When recalling specific chapters, he simply needed to imagine returning to this room and “walking” to the corresponding location to accurately retrieve the required memory content.
~~
Every evening, Su Youcai would test him from the ‘Collected Commentaries on the Four Books’ in the adjacent room:
“The Master fished with a line but not with a net; he shot but not at roosting birds.”
After his father spoke, Su Lu would slightly close his eyes and return to his ‘Memory Palace.’
First, he knew this quotation came from ‘Collected Commentaries on the Analects,’ so he looked toward the “ceiling,” which helped him quickly recall the specific source—Chapter Seven of Book Four!
His “gaze” then fell upon the “ceiling beam,” where this chapter was positioned.
Though it sounds complex, it all happened in the blink of an eye. Su Lu had already located the “Shu Er VII” chapter and “seen” the mind map on the Banana Leaf Paper. The corresponding memories surged to his mind, and he recited without hesitation:
“Gang refers to using thick ropes to cast nets across rivers for fishing. Yi means shooting arrows tied with raw silk strings. Su denotes roosting birds. Scholar Hong remarked: ‘Confucius was poor and humble in his youth. To provide for sustenance and sacrifices, he occasionally resorted to fishing and hunting, much like participating in ritual hunts…'”
“Mm, well done.” Su Youcai nodded. He would continue testing Su Lu relentlessly until bedtime.
In truth, the act of examination itself served as a method to reinforce memory.