Chapter 202: Preparation Before the Rain

The sky was just beginning to lighten, but the study of Qingzhi Zhai was already lit bright with lamps.

After the Lantern Festival, the New Year's atmosphere faded, and all the seasonal social obligations ended; the Eastern and Western Mansions returned to quiet.

Every day at dawn, Jia Cong rose, practiced swordplay for half an hour to loosen his sinews and bones, then washed and groomed under the maids' care before beginning his daily studies.

Mornings were spent reviewing and pondering the Four Books and Five Classics, and composing one essay on the Four Books and two on the Five Classics according to the outlines compiled by Liu Jing'an.

After lunch, the entire afternoon was devoted to studying the military treatises, agricultural texts, legal codes, and political essays listed by Liu Jing'an; at night he composed policy essays based on the topics.

Every five days he went to the Liu family estate on Mount Mount Luocang to have his essays and policy papers reviewed by his master.

After Liu Jing'an corrected his errors and clarified his misunderstandings, Jia Cong returned home to study again, repeating this cycle endlessly, accumulating wisdom drop by drop, like water wearing through stone.

Because he had become a disciple of Master Liu Jing'an, a grand master, the instruction he received surpassed that of the grand lecture halls of Qingshan Academy beyond comparison.

After informing the academy's headmaster, Zhao Zhao Chongli, Jia Cong ceased attending daily classes at Qingshan Academy, and his studies followed entirely Liu Jing'an's schedule.

That morning, Jia Cong practiced his sword as usual in the courtyard; the wind blew across his forehead, drying his sweat and sharpening his alertness.

Since the New Year, he had taken one monthly exam at Qingshan Academy and still ranked among the top.

Yet he continued attending the academy's monthly and quarterly exams to test his progress.

She stubbornly refused to rest, treating her duty of guarding the study as sacred—since her young master had already risen to study, how could she linger in bed?

Jia Cong knew that even if he told her to go back to sleep, she would refuse to leave, so he did not wake her, letting her nap with her head resting on the desk corner.

…

Moreover, since Jia Cong had been named the top candidate in the Yongzhou provincial examination, his scholarly foundation already surpassed that of ordinary students his age; lingering in the academy's large lectures served no purpose.

Zhen Ying Lady Lian, since following Jia Cong from Jin Ling, no longer lived under the coercion of traffickers; she ate and slept without worry, and over the past half year, she had grown even more beautiful, revealing a delicate charm like a blooming rose.

She truly did resemble that person from Anding Temple—the warmth and tenderness of that incense room, under the weight of ancestral rites and propriety, could never be preserved.

Zhao Zhao Chongli naturally had no objection; if a private stove was available, why eat from the communal pot?

Zhao Zhao Chongli was very pleased with Jia Cong's essays and policy papers, believing his writing had gained even greater maturity since the provincial exam.

After Zhi Shao and Wu'er had helped him wash and groom, he entered the study to find Zhen Ying Lady Lian already grinding ink, spreading paper, and neatly arranging all the books he was to read that day.

At that moment, Qingwen's voice came from outside: "What's Qingwen doing here so early?"

Yet she herself had dozed off with her head on the desk corner—she was still a young girl prone to sleepiness, rising daily with Jia Cong, often needing half an hour to fully wake; Jia Cong had urged her several times to sleep as long as she needed.

He encouraged him to persevere, strive for excellence, and thus make the autumn examination within reach.

"I haven't seen the young master in ages, so I came to check on you. My persimmon tree bore new fruit this year, and I made fresh osmanthus-persimmon cakes—both you and Zhi Shao loved them when you were little."

Jia Cong smiled and stepped out to greet her; he had always respected this nurse who had genuinely cared for him since childhood.

Inside the food box Zhao Mama brought, the osmanthus-persimmon cakes were arranged neatly, golden and sweet, their appearance so appetizing it stirred hunger at once.

In previous years, when he studied at the academy and spent little time at home, he had asked Jia Zheng to assign Zhao Mama an easier duty, freeing her from constant service within the inner quarters so she could live more comfortably.

"I was just thinking of this treat—how timely that you've brought it. Has Zhi Gui written lately? Is he well in the camp?"

Zhao Mama laughed: "What could be wrong with him? Landing a master like you is his great fortune. You not only asked Second Master to free him from slavery."

You also recommended him to join the firearms camp. Who else in the household has such luck? Now that he's freed from servitude, he can't enter the mansion anymore, so he asked me to deliver a message to you."

"He says the Marquis of Marquis Zhongjing takes notice of him and made him a personal guard. But that's mostly because of your favor."

Guo Zhi Gui was Zhao Mama's only son; after becoming Jia Cong's personal attendant and accompanying him on several visits to military camps, Jia Cong noticed his longing for a military life.

Among the Jia family, besides those few sisters, the people Jia Cong trusted and felt closest to were the maids in his courtyard, Zhao Mama, and her only son, Guo Zhi Gui.

Guo Zhi Gui was simple and loyal by nature, yet sharp-witted—otherwise, how could a boy his age have mastered the art of driving horses and carts?

Though he was the same age as Jia Cong, he was sturdier than most boys his age, radiating a martial spirit; Jia Cong did not want someone close to him to spend his life merely as a coachman.

His autumn examination was approaching; once he passed, he would qualify for official appointment. Though his master Liu Jing'an advised against entering officialdom too soon, plans often change.

After submitting his proposal on strengthening the military with firearms, both the Minister of War, Guo Yan, and the Marquis of Marquis Zhongjing, Shi Ding, had recommended to the Emperor that Jia Cong be allowed to observe and assist in governance—but his status as only a scholar candidate had delayed it.

Even so, recently, whether it was the Five Armies' trials of modified firearms, or the newly established Firearms Supervision under the Ministry of Public Works, or the search for renowned scholars from the Western Seas, all had invited him to participate, precisely because he was the original proposer.

Thus, if he passed the autumn examination successfully and gained official eligibility, the old proposal might be revived.

Officialdom has always been perilous; a single misstep can mean life or death; those who are deaf, blind, and mute cannot stand alone—they cannot form a forest.

The Jia family, with its dwindling lineage, must cultivate outside allies like Wang Wang Ziteng and Jia Yucun to protect their safety and prosperity—that is why.

Someone like Guo Zhi Gui, whom he trusts and favors, if given a good future, may one day become his own support; though he is now merely a personal guard, everything begins from nothing.

How far he will go depends entirely on his own destiny and ability.

After Guo Zhi Gui was freed from servitude, Jia Cong requested from Qu Qu Hongxiu a young boy named Jiang Liu.

Years ago, Qu Qu Hongxiu had taken in five orphans; when he and Qu Qu Hongxiu first started their perfume business, their original intent was to provide livelihoods for these children.

Two of them managed the secret perfume workshops on the city's outskirts.

The other three assisted Feng Shi in running the shops; Jiang Liu was one of them, raised in the marketplace, clever and quick-witted, so Jia Cong took him on as his senior attendant.

During his period of secluded study, he also had Jiang Liu keep watch on outside developments.

After lunch, he went for a stroll, stopping by his sisters' chambers to chat, and sent Wu'er to deliver some osmanthus-persimmon cakes to Lixiang Courtyard—girls would surely enjoy such sweets.

Yesterday, Xue Baochai had sent some southern crabs to Qingzhi Zhai; it was merely a customary exchange of gifts.

(End of chapter)