Chapter 337: Strategy for Winning Over the Magistrate, Part One

The magistrate was just too considerate!

Yan Lao’er was deeply moved.

Wasn’t it true?

As an uncle, he carried a lot of weight at home.

His eldest nephew had always shown him nothing but respect.

Now, they were classmates under the same roof.

If it were discovered he was the worst kind of slacker, where would that leave his pride?

Magistrate Tian asked what books he’d brought and instructed him to carry his book chest over that afternoon.

Just now, after hearing Yan Lao’er recite some commentaries, the magistrate thought the notes were fine, though the recitation was a bit jumbled. It would be better to take a look directly.

“And your calligraphy… it needs more practice, but don’t force it,” Magistrate Tian gave a precise critique. “Don’t chase perfection too hard. Everyone’s handwriting is their own. Your script reflects your heart. There’s no need to be overly harsh with yourself. Let it flow naturally.”

At this point, whatever Magistrate Tian said was golden to Yan Lao’er.

He nodded eagerly.

He felt he’d successfully bluffed through this whole studying business.

And he grasped the underlying meaning in the magistrate’s words.

It seemed what Magistrate Tian really meant was: behave and attend school obediently for a few days. If he truly couldn’t hack it, the magistrate could then go and speak to his elder brother.

As for being summoned to the back office twice a day… well, that made perfect sense.

After all, he had to keep up appearances.

He couldn’t very well lounge around while everyone else was buried in their books.

Being given special tutoring away from the others was the magistrate’s kindness. He must be afraid he’d embarrass himself in front of the other students…

The magistrate was such a good man!

He hadn’t expected to be hit with a test on his first day, throwing his slow-and-steady plan right off the rails before it even got started.

But never mind, there were still a few days left. He’d work twice as hard to get close to the magistrate.

And when the time was right, he’d give that materials request a nudge…

…

Yan Lao’er returned delighted.

The other students whispered among themselves.

“He must’ve written a great article and earned the magistrate’s praise.”

“I heard the magistrate once said that Registrar Yan’s son is sure to win his Juren title next year…”

“I snuck a peek at Yan Xiangheng’s essay just now. Every word was masterful!”

“Wow! This whole family must’ve been blessed by the God of Literature. They’re all brilliant!”

“Say no more, get back to writing. Time’s almost up.”

On the dot, the magistrate sent someone to collect their essays. The students handed in their work and started heading out, one by one, to pick up lunchboxes delivered from home.

Crouching Tiger’s so-called County School was more like a tutoring center run personally by the magistrate.

Everything was done simply.

An unused courtyard inside the government office was cleaned up and turned into a classroom.

Most of the time, the instructor was none other than the magistrate himself. Sometimes, the Second or Third Master would stand in to teach a class or two.

Meals and tea weren’t provided. Everyone had to bring their own.

Paper, ink, and writing expenses were also self-funded.

A few classmates returned with their lunchboxes. Yan Lao’er and his nephew went back to their quarters and quickly got to work.

Yan Xiangheng was very good at cooperating with his uncle now.

When he saw Yan Lao’er was handling the food prep, he went outside to ask someone where they could fetch water. With two wooden buckets slung on a shoulder pole, he headed off to retrieve it himself.

By the time he got back, everything on Yan Lao’er’s end was ready.

He sliced the steamed buns he’d brought, dipped them in egg batter, and pan-fried them on both sides until they were golden brown.

The greens were stir-fried with just a pinch of salt and a small handful of sun-dried river shrimp.

He opened a jar of pickled vegetables and poured out a small portion.

“Just something simple for now. Tonight, Uncle will cook you a proper meal,” said Yan Lao’er.

“This is great already, Uncle,” Yan Xiangheng replied, recalling the meals from his days at the academy. Compared to this, those had all been bland and watery soups.

Yan Lao’er told him to start eating and then brewed a large pot of pear soup.

“Uncle, can the two of us really finish all this?” Yan Xiangheng hesitated, unsure whether to save room.

“This is our ticket in,” Yan Lao’er said mysteriously.

After a moment’s thought, he clenched his jaw and added some rock sugar.

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Just eat. If it’s not flavorful enough, we’ve got salted duck eggs too.”

“It’s perfect, Uncle.”

No sooner had the two finished lunch than the constables began dropping by, as if they’d been waiting for the meal to end.

Yan Lao’er was a little puzzled. Hadn’t they all seen each other this morning? Why show up again at noon? If they hadn’t missed the meal, he would’ve thought they came just to mooch.

Still, a guest was a guest, so he entertained them properly.

The constables kept sneaking glances at the stove, which Yan Lao’er took to mean they’d gotten the hint.

Since he had planned to make rounds anyway to build goodwill, this actually saved him the trip.

“This is the best thing for a dry throat. Everyone, have a bowl.”

They’d expected just plain stewed pears, but one sip of the sweet, soothing liquid melted right to the heart. A few of the constables began to look embarrassed.

Better to get to the point quickly.

“Brother Yan, we were admiring your stove. Where did you buy it? Would it be possible to help us get one too?”

Yan Lao’er suddenly understood. So it hadn’t been the pear soup they were eyeing… it was the stove.

“Haven’t seen anything like it around Guanzhou,” he replied vaguely. “It’s a pretty simple design. If you want one, try figuring it out yourselves. Maybe you can make something similar.”

The constables lit up.

That’s what they’d been waiting to hear.

“If Brother Yan doesn’t mind, could we borrow the stove for half a day? We’ll take it to a blacksmith we know and let him get a look.”

“Sure! Take it,” Yan Lao’er said generously.

“Don’t worry, Brother Yan. We’ll bring it back to you first thing. We won’t let it get in your way.”

“All good, all good.”

With their request granted, the constables carried off the stove.

Yan Lao’er slapped his forehead.

“Ah, almost forgot the real business.”

He quickly filled two bamboo tubes with pear soup, picked up his book case, and headed to the rear offices.

Magistrate Tian had just finished eating and had someone summon him over.

Seeing the dishes being cleared away, Yan Lao’er let out a sigh of relief.

Just in time.

He hurriedly and attentively presented the bamboo tubes.

“Magistrate, I made some pear soup. Perfect for this season and still warm. Please have some while it’s hot?”

Magistrate Tian had just lifted a teacup to his lips, but set it down and reached for the bamboo tube instead.

He found an empty teacup and poured the pear soup in.

Even before tasting it, the look alone was refreshing.

For the constables, Yan Lao’er had only offered the broth, but for the Magistrate, that wouldn’t do. The serving here was equal parts pear and soup.

Magistrate Tian took a sip, his eyes narrowing slightly.

He was craving a piece of pear and had just been about to call someone to bring him a spoon.

Right on cue, Yan Lao’er opened the small cloth pouch he always carried, revealing a few sharpened bamboo slips. In one smooth motion, he skewered two pieces of pear.

Then he quietly stepped back, his task complete.

Magistrate Tian paused for a moment, then picked up one piece and brought it to his mouth.

He chewed slowly and deliberately.

Since the magistrate was eating, it would’ve been rude to keep staring at him, so Yan Lao’er busied himself with something else.

He noticed a few crumpled papers scattered messily across the floor, likely drafts discarded for being unsatisfactory.

His eyes lit up.

“Magistrate, are these no longer needed?”

Magistrate Tian let out a low “Mm.”

“Then I’ll tidy them up for you,” Yan Lao’er said efficiently, gathering the papers and stacking them in the corner by the wall. He planned to take them with him when he left.

Then, as a gentle breeze drifted through the room, his gaze followed it to the study’s window.

The window paper needed replacing…

And the gaps in the frame could use patching…

Magistrate Tian finished eating and used a handkerchief tucked in his sleeve to wipe his mouth.

Yan Lao’er: …

How was he supposed to wash that now?

(End of Chapter)