Chapter 13

In Song Sheng’s memory, the original owner always went to a noodle shop in the west of the city to eat bone‑broth noodles. The noodles there were cooked in a broth made from simmered bones, cheap in price yet very tasty.

Although today he had some money from selling books, he could not spend recklessly. For them, a bowl of bone‑broth noodles was already a very good meal.

On the way to the west of the city, Lu Qing looked worried, his brows furrowed. He said: “Husband, after we finish eating, let’s hurry home. Once we’re back, you should study right away. From now on, I’ll take care of everything at home. You just focus on your studies, don’t worry about anything else.”

Song Sheng knew Lu Qing was worried about him, since he had just agreed to compete with Li Hongyun in the exam. If he did not perform well, he would have to leave the county school.

The county school only accepted child‑students. Otherwise, one had to pay a large sum to attend. For poor scholars like Song Sheng, the only way to qualify was to first pass the child‑student exam. If he were expelled, he could only attend a private school run by a licentiate. Not only would the resources be worse, but it would also bring shame to the Song family.

Because of poverty, the Song family was already looked down upon. If he left the county school, Zhang Xinghua’s reputation would be ruined by gossip.

Still, Song Sheng had some confidence when he agreed to the wager.

Since arriving in this world, he had reviewed the subjects and books studied by the original owner. He discovered he had an advantage: a perfect memory.

The original owner had also possessed this gift at age ten, able to remember everything he read. But later, for unknown reasons, the talent disappeared. Now, after Song Sheng’s arrival, he found that anything he read once was imprinted in his mind, clear as if copied.

The county school’s major exams followed the subjects of the prefectural exam. They tested not only Confucian classics but also law and mathematics, though law and mathematics carried fewer points. Song Sheng thought this was similar to subjects in his previous life, like history or chemistry worth fifty points, while Chinese, math, and English each carried one hundred fifty points.

The county school had four classes, each with forty to fifty students, totaling about two hundred. Li Hongyun ranked around seventieth or eightieth, while the original owner ranked about one hundred twentieth. The gap was thirty to forty places. Reviewing the original owner’s answers, Song Sheng realized most of the lost points were in mathematics and law.

In the Jing Dynasty, mathematics was taught through abacus calculation. But Song Sheng, having come from a modern world, could solve problems directly without using an abacus. As a child, he had even studied mental abacus calculation, which made him even faster. Combined with his natural skill in mathematics, this subject posed no pressure for him. 

The Confucian classics such as the Analects and the Dao De Jing were considered fundamental. These required full memorization, but for Song Sheng, memorizing was not difficult. The Four Books and Five Classics were compulsory exam subjects. Of the Five Classics, in practice only one was tested extensively. 

Law focused mainly on the Kaihuang Code and the Jingde Code. If one later passed the provincial exam and became a juren, he would qualify for positions such as county assistant magistrate or county officer. At that time, handling cases required familiarity with legal statutes. These codes contained countless detailed articles, mostly requiring memorization, which was Song Sheng’s strength. 

His current difficulty lay in sentence division and interpretation. The original owner’s memory showed weakness in comprehension. Song Sheng, however, could understand meaning, but since the texts lacked punctuation, he struggled to divide sentences correctly, which made interpretation harder. 

Besides this, essay formats such as jingtie and celun were also heavily weighted in exams, so they became his focus for review. 

To succeed in studying, one needed not only intelligence but also effective methods. Strengths had to be reinforced, weaknesses corrected, and only then could one achieve success. 

With one month left before school resumed, Song Sheng planned to consult the teacher carefully. 

Considering all factors, as long as he did not perform poorly in the Four Books and Five Classics, and maintained the original owner’s level, improving thirty to forty ranks was possible. 

He never fought battles without confidence. Since he had accepted the wager, he was already prepared. He did not need to surpass the top student; the original owner’s ranking left plenty of room for improvement. 

As long as he performed normally in other subjects, and did well in mathematics and law, there was no reason he would lose to Li Hongyun. 

Lu Qing, however, did not understand scholarly matters and could only worry. 

“Don’t worry. Once we get home, I’ll start studying right away. Trust me, I won’t lose,” Song Sheng reassured him. 

Lu Qing’s small face wrinkled with worry. He nodded and asked: “Which shop sells the bone‑broth noodles you mentioned? Let’s walk faster.” 

Song Sheng pointed along the route from memory: “Turn ahead, then go straight, and we’ll be there.” 

At the stall, Song Sheng ordered two large bowls of bone‑broth noodles. 

The stall was run by a couple. The original owner had eaten there a few times before, so the woman recognized him. 

As soon as the noodles were served, she teased: “You haven’t come here for quite a while. This is the first time I’ve seen you bring your husband!” 

Song Sheng smiled and explained: “We just married. From now on, I’ll bring him here often.” 

Hearing that, the woman realized he meant they would regularly support her business. She beamed and said: “They say newlyweds are always sweet together, and it’s true.” 

She left to continue working, while Song Sheng pushed one bowl toward Lu Qing and said: “You worked hard today, eat while it’s hot.” 

Lu Qing froze—worked hard? 

Then he realized Song Sheng meant he had worked hard defending him earlier. His face flushed red instantly. 

Thin‑skinned, and sitting at a public stall, he felt embarrassed. Others might not understand, but he did. He stammered softly: “N‑not hard at all.” 

What’s so hard about scolding someone? And he only said one sentence, yet his husband was teasing him again.

The bone‑broth noodles didn’t use much oil. A large portion had plenty of noodles, enough to fill the stomach. The broth had a thin layer of oil on top, with two slices of meat and a sprinkle of chopped scallions, looking quite appetizing.

One bowl cost five copper coins, and with two meat slices plus free refills of broth, it was a good deal. Many people came to the stall to eat.

Song Sheng noticed Lu Qing had been worried all the way, so he deliberately teased him earlier.

Now that the noodles arrived, both focused on eating. They had been hungry for a while, their stomachs rumbling since earlier.

In his previous life, Song Sheng had tasted all kinds of food, but he wasn’t picky. As long as it was tasty, he was satisfied. Sitting at a roadside stall eating plain bone noodles now felt delicious.

Lu Qing ate slowly. When he tried to lift noodles with his chopsticks, they slipped back into the bowl, splashing broth onto his face.

Song Sheng reached out to wipe his face gently and said softly: “Eat slowly, be careful, don’t splash it into your eyes.”

At the next table, an auntie saw their intimacy and thought of her own husband, feeling sour. Why wasn’t her man so considerate?

She whispered to another auntie: “These young couples really have no shame, holding hands and touching faces in public. It’s improper.”

The other auntie added: “Exactly. He’s just a gē ér, yet treated like a treasure.”

Their tables were close, so Song Sheng heard them clearly. But he ignored them, instead picking up a meat slice and offering it to Lu Qing.

Lu Qing froze, realizing his husband was feeding him. He was about to refuse when Song Sheng said: “Be good, eat quickly. My hand’s tired holding the chopsticks.”

Hearing that, Lu Qing quickly opened his mouth and ate the meat, his face red like a persimmon. He had heard the aunties’ words earlier and felt upset, but now his husband fed him meat, which felt like support. He was sweetly moved—his husband was wonderful.

The aunties grew even more sour. They had spoken loudly on purpose to make the couple restrain themselves, but instead the pair went further, feeding each other in public.

The stall’s lady boss saw this and smiled. She and her husband had also supported each other through poverty until they managed to run this noodle stall. Though not wealthy, they were loving and content.

Seeing Song Sheng and Lu Qing’s affection, she teased: “Well, even bookworms know how to care for their loved ones.”

Song Sheng smiled without replying. Lu Qing, blushing, buried his head in his noodles. After finishing the big bowl, he felt warm and comfortable all over.

After eating, Song Sheng wanted to walk around town to look for business opportunities, but Lu Qing urged him to go home and study.

Even after the meal, Lu Qing still worried about the exam wager. Song Sheng sighed and agreed to head home.

Before leaving, Song Sheng stopped at a general store. He had promised his niece and nephew to buy them candy. Children may be small, but promises must be kept

The general store sold malt sugar made from millet, the cheapest kind of sweet in the Jing Dynasty. Yet even the cheapest sugar was rare for farming families, who might only taste it a few times a year.

If a household could eat malt sugar every day, it meant they were wealthy. From this came the saying “holding malt sugar while playing with grandchildren”, symbolizing prosperity and leisure.

In the previous dynasty, years of turmoil left common people insecure. At the start of the Jing Dynasty, shops selling malt sugar were very few. But after several decades, the sugar industry gradually developed, producing malt sugar, brown sugar, and finally white sugar—the most expensive.

Song Sheng bought a pound of malt sugar. On his way out, he saw a vendor selling candied fruit skewers and bought one.

The skewer wasn’t made with hawthorn but with wild fruits, coated in malt syrup.

“Here, eat this,” Song Sheng said, handing it to Lu Qing.

Lu Qing was surprised. “For me?”

“Yes,” Song Sheng replied. “Eat quickly, the syrup hardens if left too long and won’t taste good.”

Lu Qing took a small bite, then held it to Song Sheng’s mouth, mumbling with his cheeks full: “Husband, you eat too.”

Song Sheng didn’t like sweets, so he only tasted one piece. The two walked home toward Song Family Village under the sunlight, their shadows stretching long behind them.

By the time they arrived, it was about four or five in the afternoon. It was late October, the weather turning cold, and daylight shorter. Farmers had already returned home earlier than usual.

As soon as Song Sheng reached home, he sensed something was wrong. His uncles squatted under the eaves, his father stood at the hall entrance, and his cousins were there too. Everyone’s face looked grim.

Song Sheng set down his basket. “Grandmother, Father, what’s the matter?”

Zhang Xinghua sighed: “The village head just came to announce that this year we must begin corvée labor.”