Chapter 43: Luoyang Is a Small Place

Old Madam Wang declared her intention to send Xiaohua to school. As soon as these words were spoken, they came as a thunderbolt to the entire Wang family.

"Xiaohua is already this old, long past the age for beginning her studies."

"Starting school at her age, it remains uncertain whether she can even grasp anything, and besides, she will only become a laughingstock."

"Instead of all that, she might as well stay at home to help the adults with chores and share the burden of housework. With a reputation for being capable, it will be easier to arrange a good marriage for her in the future. We country lasses don't care about scholarly learning."

Though everyone chattered away with their own opinions, Old Madam Wang turned a deaf ear. Right now, she was utterly convinced by the story told by the professional storyteller.

She curled her lips in a sneer, full of contempt for their backward mindset.

To think they listened to gossip and ran faster than anyone else every day just to hear stories, yet learned nothing at all, merely joining in for the commotion.

Unlike her, who had thoroughly internalized the wisdom of the books and managed her household in pristine order.

Goudan was no longer arrogant, willful, or self-centered; he had grown somewhat sensible and even helped out around the house alongside Xiaohua.

Xiaohua was no longer timid and submissive, perpetually wearing a tearful expression; she had become brighter, livelier, and more childlike.

And whom was all this thanks to? Naturally, to her, Old Madam Wang!

Ah, one had to forgive these foolish people; not everyone was as clever as she was.

Could they not see the astonishing transformation Er-ya underwent in the book after attending school?

Before her schooling, Er-ya didn't even know what tracing-red sheets were—a term Old Madam Wang herself had originally learned from the storyteller—and whenever she encountered the village head's young daughter, who was worlds apart from her, she would shrink back in inferiority.

After learning knowledge and principles from her teacher, Wang Er-ya could stand tall and unyielding even before the lady of the Han family, answering every question thrown at her with effortless fluency.

When faced with the coercion of the Wang family, she calmly stated her case and reasoned things out, leaving the entire village dumbfounded.

What did this prove? It proved that studying was immensely useful!

Even without taking those bothersome imperial examinations, simply mastering those principles and demeanor would allow one to grow immensely.

There was also another reason she was determined to send Xiaohua to school, though Old Madam Wang did not state it outright.

Previously, she had practiced her favoritism with a clear and righteous conscience, believing she had never wronged her granddaughter Xiaohua.

Yet the other day at the dining table, seeing Xiaohua shed tears over a chicken leg had left her heart in utter turmoil.

Sending her to school could be considered a form of compensation.

And so, Xiaohua was pleasantly surprised to learn that she would be going to school just like Goudan.

Readers' comments are an intuitive reflection of whether an author's writing has achieved its intended effect, whether it be portraying character traits, driving the plot forward, or sometimes even revealing filler content through reader reactions.

Because readers read with expectations, if an article fails to meet those expectations, or conversely, deepens them, a plot as bland as plain water will leave them feeling bored.

Should a plot reach a certain climactic stage, the comments on the article will experience a mushrooming growth.

Therefore, when Xu Chengyue received a large chest of letters, she was quite shocked. She knew the content she had written that day was highly controversial, but surely it wouldn't warrant being cursed at by so many people?

Though years of writing had forged a thick skin within her, preventing her from becoming overly anxious or despondent over reader reviews, she certainly didn't enjoy being cursed at, let alone being driven to distraction by the nitpicking of fastidious readers.

Xu Chengyue's hand trembled slightly as she touched the chest. "Did I write a plot that was really that absurd?"

Xia He scratched her head in puzzlement. "Not at all. This maid found it quite delightful. That Er-lang Wang failed to steal the chicken and only lost the rice; before he could even take a concubine, his wife demanded a divorce from him."

Qiu Lu chimed in, "Though it's not entirely according to custom, it felt wonderfully satisfying."

At least, those were the thoughts of the two maids.

Xu Chengyue took a deep breath, opened the chest, and pulled out the letters inside to read.

Sure enough, the comments were polarized into two extremes.

From the content of the comments, the genders of the readers were easily discernible.

Male readers were mostly critical, arguing that Er-ya, being a daughter, had no business meddling in her parents' affairs, let alone encouraging her mother to divorce her father—an act that shattered another person's marriage.

Besides, the premise was merely that the father wanted to take a concubine, and the reason for doing so was perfectly legitimate: he simply wanted a son. How normal was that? What was there to make a fuss about to the point of divorce and throwing the household into turmoil?

Female readers held a completely opposite attitude. Most of them strongly approved of Er-ya's actions, even expressing deep envy for Lady Qin and wishing they had a daughter like Er-ya.

If you find your husband unpleasing to the eye, simply divorce him and go enjoy the good life with your daughter. How carefree is that? Why bother entangling yourself with a man? If he wants a son, let him go make one himself.

This left Xu Chengyue dumbfounded. However, recalling the open-minded atmosphere of the Tang Dynasty—where many princesses who never married chose to become Taoist priestesses and kept numerous male favorites—she found it less surprising.

Among these letters, however, there was one rather unusual one. Unlike the others expressing opinions on the novel's plot, this was a love letter. Its phrasing was rather direct, making Xu Chengyue's face flush and her heart race.

This... this probably wasn't proper; she was a woman herself, after all!

Xiaohua walked home from school, clutching her book satchel against her waist with one hand, the strap slung diagonally across her shoulder. Inside the bag were the examination papers the master had given them that day.

She hadn't performed exceptionally well, receiving only a mid-tier 'Jia'. She had originally harbored grand ambitions of achieving a top-tier 'Jia' to prove her own capability and show that Grandma's decision was right.

As a result, falling short by a grade—though still a 'Jia'—left Xiaohua feeling utterly heartbroken.

She dragged her feet all the way home, lingering outside the front door and building up her psychological defenses for a long time before she finally dared to step inside.

Goudan was already seated at the courtyard table, flashing a silly grin while waiting to eat.

The moment he saw her enter, he anxiously called out, "Sister, sit down quickly! We're about to eat, we've just been waiting for you."

Ignoring him, Xiaohua headed straight for the kitchen, where Old Madam Wang and Mrs. Liu were busy cooking and dishing out food.

"Xiaohua's back? Go wash your hands quickly and get ready to eat." Such affectionate words of concern were now spoken by Old Madam Wang with complete naturalness.

Putting aside her initial prejudices, Xiaohua truly was an obedient, sensible, and good child, giving them immeasurably less worry than Goudan.

Xiaohua was on the verge of tears. Grandma cared for her so much and, despite everyone's objections, insisted on sending her to school, yet she had only managed a mid-tier 'Jia'. She truly was too stupid.

She reached out to wipe away her tears in secret, her voice laced with a sob, "Grandma, I'm sorry. I didn't do well on the exam."

Hearing this, Mrs. Liu—who had previously opposed Xiaohua's schooling on the grounds that it was a waste of money—could no longer hold her tongue. "Mother, I told you so. Xiaohua simply can't keep up; pouring money into this is pure money down the drain."

"You're the only one with a mouth that flaps nonstop. It's not even your money being spent." Old Madam Wang glared at Mrs. Liu.

Old Madam Wang, who had hoped Xiaohua might be as clever as the Er-ya in the story, felt a tinge of disappointment as well. But she knew Xiaohua had already lost several years, so lagging behind was entirely normal.

Her expectations were relatively modest; as long as Xiaohua grew step by step, showing effort and progress, that was enough.

She thought of Goudan. What grades did he usually get? They seemed to be mostly low-tier 'Bing' or high-tier 'Ding'.

Having prepared herself mentally and assuming Xiaohua had received a similar score—or perhaps even a lower one—Old Madam Wang spoke in a gentle, non-blaming tone, "What grade did you get?"

Humiliated by her mother's jibes, Xiaohua was thoroughly dejected. She hung her head listlessly, and two words squeezed out from her dry throat: "Mid-tier Jia."

At these words, the movements of the other two women in the kitchen came to a sudden halt.

Mrs. Liu asked in a daze, "Is a mid-tier Jia considered not doing well? What grade does Goudan usually get on his exams?"

Ignoring her, Old Madam Wang walked out into the courtyard, wiped her hands on her apron, and called out, "Goudan, what grade did the master give you on your exam today?"

Hearing this, Goudan brightened up. He was familiar with this routine; Grandma was surely going to reward him.

"Grandma, I got a mid-tier Bing today! I've improved quite a bit since last time." Beaming with joy, he raised his head, silently begging for praise.

Old Madam Wang looked at Goudan—who had only managed a mid-tier Bing yet wore a smug expression begging for praise—and then looked back at Xiaohua—who had performed remarkably well with a mid-tier Jia yet looked utterly devastated.

Like Mrs. Liu, she fell into a dazed trance.

She could not fathom what had gone wrong with their family's upbringing: capable people suffered from low self-esteem, while incompetent ones were arrogant.

She had previously blamed Xiaohua's timidity and cowardice on the child's own lack of ability, but now it seemed the root of the problem lay elsewhere.

Outside the west gate of Luoyang City, on the imperial highway leading toward Chang'an, a group of people waited anxiously. The leading man grew restless with impatience and couldn't help complaining, "We agreed on the Chen hour, and now it's a quarter past Si hour. We haven't even caught a glimpse of a shadow."

"Sir, since no one has arrived after all this time, there's probably been an accident on the road. They won't make it today; we might as well head back first," a servant suggested considerately.

"Let's wait a bit longer, just a little longer. If a quarter-hour passes and he still hasn't come, we'll leave," the man resolved.

After another short while, a horseman finally appeared at the far end of the highway, galloping toward them at full speed.

Spotting them from afar, the rider shouted, "Lin the Twelfth! It's me! I've arrived!"

Having finally waited for his man, young Master Lin the Twelfth perged up, leaped down from his horse, and straightened his clothes, smoothing out the wrinkles.

When the man finally rode up to him, Lin cupped his fists and said to the horseman, "Brother Yi, why are you so terribly late? You kept me waiting quite a while."

Brother Yi stepped out of the stirrups and dismounted nimbly. Faced with Lin's inquiry, he looked deeply apologetic. "My apologies, Brother Lin. I was hurrying toward Luoyang when I encountered a group of villagers driving a cart to deliver goods in the city. I became so engrossed in their conversation that I lost track of time and arrived late."

A spark of interest ignited in Lin's heart. Feigning casualness, he asked, "May I ask, Brother Yi, what were those country folk discussing that could captivate a scholar as erudite as yourself?"

His question happened to hit upon precisely what Brother Yi wished to share.

Brother Yi spoke with great enthusiasm, clicking his tongue in admiration. "Brother Lin, you wouldn't believe it! Those country folk were discussing matters of state policy—policies the Sage issued just a few days ago, at that! What's more, it wasn't empty chatter; every word had substance, and some of their insights even surpassed my own."

At this, a hint of puzzlement crossed his face. "Living in the capital of Chang'an, right beneath the Son of Heaven's feet, I've never witnessed such a sight. To think I would encounter it upon coming to Luoyang! Has Luoyang truly become this thriving?"

Suppressing his urge to boast, Lin the Twelfth said offhandedly, "I thought it was something major; so it was just that. Brother Yi has lived in Chang'an for a long time and hasn't visited Luoyang in ages, so naturally you aren't familiar with this. It's a long story and cannot be told in a brief moment. Let's head to a tavern to dine and satisfy our appetites first; we can talk as we walk."