Chapter Nineteen: A Modest Display of Skill

Late in the afternoon, as school was about to end, Li Yanqing was summoned to the study by Yao Ding. Yao wore a grim expression as he placed a sheet of white paper bearing a couplet in front of him. "You wrote this, didn't you?"

Yao Ding’s fingers, gnarled like an eagle’s talons, tapped against the desk. "I recognize your handwriting!"

"It was written by your student," Li Yanqing admitted.

"Where did you copy this couplet from?"

Li lowered his head and replied, "It was a sudden realization, Master."

"This couplet references several books—the *Classic of History*, the *Classic of Changes*, the *Li Sao*, and the *Zhuangzi*. Have you read them all?" Yao Ding stared at him with sharp, piercing eyes.

"The student has read them all."

"Recite two lines from each of them for me."

Li Yanqing was telling the truth. His father had borrowed a pile of books for him, all of which he had read until he knew them by heart. He picked up a brush and transcribed two lines from each of the four books.

"Recite *Zhuangzi: Free and Easy Wandering* for me!"

This was Yao Ding’s favorite essay, and he was determined to put Li Yanqing to the ultimate test.

"In the Northern Dark there is a fish, and its name is Kun. The Kun is so huge, I do not know how many thousands of miles it spans; it transforms into a bird, and its name is Peng. The back of the Peng is, I do not know how many thousands of miles in span..."

Li Yanqing recited it in a modulated, rhythmic tone, finishing in one breath without a single error.

Yao Ding then had him recite the *Li Sao*, which he also completed without missing a word. Only then did Yao believe that Li Yanqing was not merely boasting. Still, his face remained impassive as he coldly asked, "Who told you that I had a blank couplet paper here?"

"I saw it through the window while heading to the latrine, Master. Your window was left open."

Yao Ding glanced at the window; indeed, the blank paper on the wall was visible from outside. He then sternly demanded, "Why did you enter my room without permission?"

Li Yanqing hesitated before saying, "I saw the horizontal scroll and was reminded of this couplet. I couldn't resist the urge, so I wanted to write it as a gift for you, Master."

"A gift for me?" Yao Ding’s eyes widened.

"The student was wrong to act so!"

Yao Ding glared at him for a long time before finally nodding. "Since you know you were wrong, hold out your hand!"

Li Yanqing extended his palm. Yao pulled out a bamboo cane and struck his hand three times with force. Only then did he say, "Last time, I struck Wang Gui ten times. Do you know why?"

"The student does not know."

"Three strikes were for entering my study without permission, and the other seven were to punish him for lying. You are more honest than him, so those seven strikes are excused."

Li Yanqing sighed in relief inwardly and quickly lowered his head. "The student will not dare to do it again."

Yao Ding said with a dark face, "Go! And in the future, stop showing off your so-called scholarship in front of me."

"The student understands his fault!" Li Yanqing bowed and retreated.

Once Li was far away, Yao Ding took out the couplet Li had written and studied it carefully twice. He felt a profound sense of awe; even he might not have been able to compose such a work. He had always considered his own grandson a prodigy, but compared to Li Yanqing, his grandson was far behind.

He decided to take down the blank scroll from the wall and, with a sweep of his brush, wrote the couplet himself, for he had grown to love it immensely.

***

"To study is to seek righteousness; to read the *Changes* is to seek change; to read the *Sao* is to seek the profound; to read the *Zhuangzi* is to seek liberation; to read the Han prose is to seek steadfastness—how delightful are the years spent among scrolls.

To be wild like the chrysanthemum; to be sparse like the plum; to be pure like the lotus; to be fragrant like the orchid; to have the charm of the crabapple—surely one can call oneself an immortal among flowers."

***

The three strikes from Master Yao had been extremely painful, and Li Yanqing’s hand throbbed. However, fearing that Yue Fei might see and mock him, he forced himself to endure the pain, acting as if nothing were wrong.

Li Yanqing had originally hoped to use this opportunity to change his master’s attitude toward him, but it had backfired. In his master’s eyes, he had become a show-off, leaving him deeply frustrated. He had tried to curry favor only to end up getting kicked by the horse.

After class, Li Yanqing was walking out of the school despondently when he heard someone calling him from across the main road. He looked up and was shocked to see his father, Li Daqi. His gloom vanished instantly, and he ran over with joy.

"Father, when did you return?"

Li Daqi was equally overjoyed, grabbing his son’s hand. "I just got back. I heard from Aunt Hu that you had started school, so I rushed over. Qing’er, how... how did you manage to do all this?"

Li Daqi was both astonished and emotional. Not only had his massive debts been cleared, but the family’s brick house had been renovated, and even Steward Liu—whom he despised—had been driven away. Li Daqi felt as if he were dreaming; in just a few short days, his fate had completely turned around, and all of this was because of his son.

Li Yanqing scratched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Father, don't ask for now. I’ll tell you slowly later, or you can ask Fourth Uncle; he knows the reasons better than I do. I’m still confused about it myself!"

Li Daqi nodded. "Very well! I will ask your Fourth Uncle when I get back."

"Daqi, is this your son, Yanqing?" asked Shopkeeper Luo, who had returned with Li Daqi, with a smile.

Only then did Li Yanqing notice the man behind his father. He was plump and fair-skinned, with a face like a persimmon cake; he looked unremarkable but wore a kindly expression.

"This is indeed my son."

Li Daqi smiled and introduced them. "Qing’er, this is Shopkeeper Luo from the county bookstore."

Shopkeeper Luo was quite courteous. He treated them to a meal at a small tavern in town, ordered a pot of wine and a few dishes, and chatted with them for a while before turning to business.

He took out Li Yanqing’s manuscript, placed it on the table, and asked with a smile, "Yanqing, your father says you wrote this book. Is that true?"

"It is merely a work for my own amusement. I hope you don't find it laughable, Shopkeeper Luo."

"Not at all! I read it carefully for the entire night last night; it is brilliant. It is written wonderfully!" Shopkeeper Luo gave a thumbs-up in praise.

Beside them, Li Daqi said bashfully, "I told you already, this book is just the ramblings of a child. Shopkeeper Luo, please don't praise him too much."

Li Yanqing asked with a smile, "Shopkeeper Luo, you didn't come all this way just to relax, did you?"

Shopkeeper Luo thought to himself, *This child certainly knows how to speak!*

"Not at all! Not at all!"

He immediately turned to Li Daqi with a beaming face. "Daqi, you are too modest. If it were just nonsense, my employer wouldn't have sent me here. Yanqing, let us discuss this book."

Shopkeeper Luo placed the manuscript in front of Li Yanqing. "Is this manuscript written by you?"

Li Yanqing was secretly startled. *Don't tell me copyright exists in the Northern Song Dynasty?* He asked, "I don't quite understand what you mean, Shopkeeper. If another bookstore prints this book first, yours cannot print it? Does the government have such regulations?"

Shopkeeper Luo shook his head. "There are no specific laws, but there are rules in the trade. Since we are all in this business, we must abide by them. If I buy a manuscript and print it, and it makes money, it would be against the rules for you to immediately carve your own blocks to print it. Generally, large bookstores disdain such behavior. However, some small, profit-driven shops don't care. Therefore, we must report to the authorities in advance and print the name of our shop on the pages, along with the words: 'Reported to the authorities, no reprinting allowed.' Once we discover someone pirating the work, we report it to the authorities to have the blocks destroyed and the culprits punished."

Hearing about potential punishment, Li Daqi became very nervous and quickly asked his son, "Qing’er, is this book really written by you?"

Li Yanqing smiled faintly. "Father, have you ever seen a book like this at home?"

Li Daqi thought about it and realized he was right. His son had barely left the house for over a month. He had told him stories of Sun Wukong before, so he must have remembered them and woven them into a new story.

"Shopkeeper Luo, my son is gifted with extraordinary intelligence. He has an eidetic memory and, despite his young age, is well-versed in both the past and present. He especially loves telling stories; this book was compiled from the stories he told the neighborhood children."

Shopkeeper Luo nodded. "Your son is indeed mature for his age and quite unlike other children. I was only asking according to protocol. In our line of work, we can tell at a glance if a book is plagiarized."

He then looked sincerely at Li Yanqing. "I am here for two things today. First, our bookstore would like to buy this book to carve blocks and sell it. Second, I hope you will continue writing it."

Li Yanqing immediately asked with a grin, "How much do you plan to pay me, Shopkeeper Luo?"

Li Daqi’s face darkened. "Qing’er, don't ask such things!"

Scholars were ashamed to talk about money. Li Daqi had been forced by life to count every penny, but deep down, he was high-minded and didn't want his son to bow for a few coins like he did.

But Li Yanqing was far more realistic than his father. If he wasn't trying to make money to support the family, why would he toil late into the night writing books?

Shopkeeper Luo waved his hand. "It is only right. That is why I am here. How about this? According to the standard for literary sketches, how does forty strings of cash for the manuscript sound?"

Li Daqi was shocked. He had expected five or six strings at most, since it was just something a child had written and not truly "serious" literature. He never expected forty strings—he had to copy countless manuscripts just to earn ten.

Li Daqi quickly said, "Forty strings is too much. Ten strings is enough. Please, don't spoil the child."

Li Yanqing, however, said slowly to his father, "Father, you underestimate Shopkeeper Luo. With his status, would he come all the way here for a mere ten strings of cash?"

Shopkeeper Luo had heard that Li Daqi’s son was a fool and had held him in contempt, even suspecting that Li Daqi had written the book himself. But now, he realized the child was far sharper than his father, which truly startled him.

No longer daring to be dismissive, Shopkeeper Luo explained to Li Yanqing, "Although our bookstore is small, we are honest and fair. Forty strings is indeed the price for a literary sketch. You must understand, young master, that a book sells for fifty wen, and we have to pay for the carving, ink, and paper—and not just any paper, but high-quality green paper. We have to sell at least two thousand copies just to make a profit. If my employer hadn't given the nod, I wouldn't be able to offer forty strings."

Li Daqi was getting angry. When did his son learn to haggle like a merchant? Besides, Shopkeeper Luo had treated them well—how could he make things difficult for him? Li Daqi sank his face and said sternly, "Qing’er, that’s enough."

Seeing his father’s anger, Li Yanqing pushed the manuscript toward Shopkeeper Luo. "Forty strings it is, then."

Shopkeeper Luo was delighted and hurriedly asked, "When do you plan to give me the next part of the book, young master?"

Li Yanqing scratched his head, acting as if he were in a difficult spot. "My studies are very demanding right now, so I’m afraid I don't have much time. I can't say for sure if it will be in a year or six months, but I will try my best!"

Shopkeeper Luo paused; he finally understood how formidable this kid was. After thinking for a moment, he said, "How about this: I will pay thirty strings as a base fee, and for every copy sold beyond two thousand, I will give you a twenty-percent royalty. How does that sound?"

Hearing that he was willing to offer a royalty, Li Yanqing felt the price was quite reasonable. He smiled and said, "It’s a deal. After the Spring Festival, I will give you the next part. You can settle the payment with my father. I’m going back to do my homework."

With that, fearing his father would scold him for being greedy, he turned and scurried away.

Li Daqi couldn't do anything about his son and apologized to Shopkeeper Luo with a look of regret. "The child is ignorant; please forgive him, Shopkeeper."

Shopkeeper Luo gave a bitter smile. "If my son were even ten percent as 'ignorant' as yours, I would be burning incense to my ancestors."