The door slammed shut right in front of them, the gust of air it created ruffling the disheveled hair on Zhao Rui’s forehead.

The purplish-red flush hadn’t even fully receded from his face before a new layer of humiliated fury painted it a sickly green.

“Snobbish bastards who judge people by their appearance!” Zhao Rui cursed under his breath at the tightly shut wooden door, though his voice lacked any real conviction.

Old Qian stood to the side, wringing his hands, his expression uglier than if he were crying.

Su Ming stood quietly, his eyelids lowered, as if everything that had just happened had nothing to do with him.

The sun slowly moved from the eaves in the east directly overhead.

The stone lions flanking the entrance grew hot under the sun. Occasionally, servants dressed in decent clothes would enter or exit through a side gate nearby. Spotting the three “country bumpkins” standing at the main entrance, they would cast looks of disdain or curiosity before deliberately walking around them.

Zhao Rui’s emotions shifted from initial rage, to restless anxiety, and then to unease. He paced incessantly, like a wild beast trapped in a cage.

Outside the gate was the dusty reality; inside was the glamorous, respectable home of the relatives he had fantasized about.

“*Creeeak—*”

That side gate finally opened again.

It was the same servant in the blue clothes and small cap. He sauntered out, his face wearing undisguised mockery.

“Follow me.” He snorted through his nose, turned, and walked inside without even bothering to give them a proper look.

He didn’t lead them along the wide, smooth main path. Instead, he guided them onto a narrow, crushed-gravel service path meant for servants.

The path was very narrow, bordered on one side by a high courtyard wall and on the other by the rear walls of various compounds.

Through gaps in the foliage, Su Ming could catch glimpses of the exquisite pavilions, terraces, and towers within the main courtyards and hear the faint sounds of laughter and conversation drifting from within. It all seemed so distant.

After traversing the long service path and rounding a corner piled with miscellaneous items, the servant stopped before a small courtyard that looked particularly remote and desolate.

This courtyard wasn’t much larger than Su Ming’s own home courtyard. A few sickly, crooked-neck trees grew within, making it appear bleak and oppressive.

“Second Madam, your nephew is here,” the servant called towards the house, his voice dripping with perfunctoriness.

The door curtain was lifted, and a woman emerged. She wore a slightly worn sapphire-blue robe, with only a single silver hairpin in her hair.

She appeared to be in her thirties, her face somewhat haggard. Seeing the three disheveled figures in her courtyard, especially taking in Zhao Rui’s bruised, swollen face and tattered clothes, her eyebrows immediately knitted tightly together.

“Rui’er? You… how did you end up in such a state?”

This woman was precisely Zhao Rui’s paternal aunt, the wife of the Second Branch of the Zhou family, Zhao Chunlan.

“Aunt!” Seeing a familiar relative, Zhao Rui’s nose stung with sudden emotion. All his grievances surged up, and his eyes instantly reddened. “We… we were ambushed by mountain bandits on the road!”

Zhao Chunlan’s face changed color. She hurried over, pulling Zhao Rui to check if he was injured, and asked in a hushed, urgent voice, “The money? The belongings? Were they all lost?”

“They… they were all robbed,” Zhao Rui’s voice dropped low.

Zhao Chunlan’s face instantly turned deathly pale.

Just then, the curtain of the main room was lifted again, and a middle-aged man with a goatee, dressed in scholar’s robes, walked out.

He was tall and thin, with a slightly sallow complexion. His eyes held the scrutinizing arrogance of someone long accustomed to a position of authority.

“All this racket and commotion, what kind of propriety is this!” The man’s opening words seemed to make the air in the courtyard grow several degrees colder.

This man was precisely Zhao Chunlan’s husband, Zhou Kang, who served as a Record Keeper at the County School.

Zhou Kang’s gaze swept over Old Qian and Su Ming. The look in his eyes was as if he were viewing two piles of annoying rubbish. Finally, his eyes landed on Zhao Rui, and his frown deepened.

“You are Zhao Dequan’s son?” he asked, his tone flat yet exuding a condescending aloofness.

“Yes, Uncle, I am Zhao Rui.” Zhao Rui hurriedly bowed in greeting, appearing ill at ease.

“Hmm.” Zhou Kang grunted from his nose. “I heard from your aunt that you received a recommendation from that old Xiucai in your village, and you’ve come to register for the Child Scholar exam?”

“Yes, Teacher Zhou said…”

Zhou Kang cut him off without any courtesy, a trace of contempt curling his lips. “Studying for the imperial examinations relies on family scholarly tradition and guidance from renowned teachers. What real accomplishment can possibly come from studying in the rustic countryside?”

His words made Zhao Rui’s face alternate between red and white. He couldn’t utter a single word in response.

Finally, Zhou Kang’s gaze, like a bestowed favor, fell upon Su Ming.

“You too?”

“Yes, this student is Su Ming. Greetings, Sir.” Su Ming imitated the manner he’d learned at the schoolhouse, bowing and performing a salute.

“Su Ming?” Zhou Kang looked him up and down. Seeing his faded old clothes and patched shoes, the disdain in his eyes intensified. “Another mud-legged peasant, dreaming the daydream of a carp leaping through the Dragon Gate.”

He waved his sleeve dismissively and said to Zhao Chunlan, “Alright, take them to stay in that empty room next to the woodshed in the backyard. Don’t let them wander around the front areas. They might offend important guests and embarrass me.”

Having said that, he turned and went back into the house, as if looking at them for a moment longer would dirty his eyes.

Zhao Chunlan’s face was full of embarrassment and humiliation, but she didn’t dare offer the slightest rebuttal. She forced a smile and said to Old Qian, “Old Qian, you’ve worked hard. This is for the cart… you… you should head back first.”

She fished several dozen copper coins from her sleeve and handed them over. Old Qian, as if granted a pardon, took the money and fled the troubled situation as if escaping.

Finally, Zhao Chunlan led Su Ming and Zhao Rui to a low, small building in the corner of the backyard.

The room was tiny, right next to the woodshed. A damp, musty smell assailed their nostrils. Inside was only a bare wooden plank bed and a table missing a leg.

“You… just make do here for now,” Zhao Chunlan said, her eyes darting around, unable to meet theirs. “Don’t wander around. If you need anything… just tell me.”

Having said that, she hurried away, as if staying there a moment longer was torture.

Inside the room, a deathly silence fell.

Zhao Rui stood dumbfounded, looking at this room that was barely better than his family’s pigsty. Recalling his uncle-in-law’s scornful gaze and his aunt’s evasive attitude, all his fantasies and pride were shattered to pieces in that moment.

*BANG!*

He violently kicked the broken table, sending it crashing to the ground.

“Why! Why!” he roared in a low voice, like a wounded beast. “My father is the Village Chief! My aunt is the Second Madam of the Zhou family! How dare they… how dare they treat us like this!”

Su Ming didn’t speak.

He silently walked over, righted the broken table, then took a few of the hard, dry black wheat buns from his small bundle and placed them on the table.

Then, he began to clean the room.

He used his old clothes as a rag to wipe the dust off the wooden plank bed and swept away the cobwebs in the corners.

He didn’t work quickly, but he was very thorough.

As if this wasn’t a dilapidated room next to a woodshed, but his own home.

After his outburst, Zhao Rui had exhausted his energy. He slumped to the ground dejectedly, watching Su Ming’s busy back with a complex look in his eyes.

He couldn’t understand why Su Ming could be so calm.

Robbed by mountain bandits, he was calm. Humiliated by the Zhou family, he was still this calm.

Didn’t he feel any anger or humiliation at all?

Night fell.

A servant brought their dinner: two coarse porcelain bowls containing half a bowl of thin porridge and a lump of pickled vegetable.

Zhao Rui glanced at it and turned his head away.

Su Ming, however, picked up a bowl and began drinking it in small sips. He even used his tongue to meticulously clean every last grain of rice from the bottom of the bowl.

“Psychological Fortitude Course, Lecture One: Cognitive Reframing,” Lin Yu’s voice sounded in Su Ming’s mind. “When the external environment cannot be changed, change your definition of the environment. This is not a prison cell; it’s the ‘Qingshi Town Strategic Development Base.’ This bed is not a wooden plank; it’s a ‘Cultivation Platform.’ This bowl of porridge is not slop; it’s ‘Basic Energy Supplement.'”

“See? Doesn’t it feel much better when you call it that?”

After finishing the porridge, Su Ming neatly placed the bowl and chopsticks aside.

He looked out the window. The town’s lights were brighter than the stars in the sky.

He sat for a long time before finally turning his head and speaking to Zhao Rui, who had remained silent the whole time.

These were the first words he had spoken to him since entering the Zhou Residence.

“Zhao Rui, tomorrow, I want to go take a look at the bookshop in town.”

Zhao Rui’s head snapped up, as if he hadn’t heard correctly.

“Bookshop? To look at what?”

Su Ming’s gaze was very calm, like the water in the ancient well at the village entrance.

“Teacher Zhou said that when we get to town, we should read more books to broaden our horizons.”

Zhao Rui was stunned.

He looked at Su Ming, at those eyes that seemed especially bright under the dim oil lamp, and suddenly felt as if he had never truly known the person before him.

“Alright… alright,” he nodded, as if compelled by some unseen force.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep