Chapter 66 You really are a foodie, your persona is still intact...

—Master, I asked you to mediate the fight, not to join in!

At this moment, all the PhDs present shared similar thoughts. Among them were many renowned scholars of their time. They lacked neither fame nor official position, and regarded wealth as worthless. If there was anything they lacked, it was a suitable disciple to inherit their mantle and bring glory to their family.

While talented students are common in the Imperial Academy, geniuses who can master the classics at the age of three are rare. Even if they can't inherit his mantle, it's still good to have the title of teacher. Later, when they become successful, they can boast, "I was their teacher," how prestigious that would be!

What Fusu and Su Shi didn't know was that they had already attracted the attention of many scholars when they first entered the Imperial Academy. Firstly, their age and the imperial decree were quite conspicuous, making them impossible to ignore. Secondly, after Mei Yaochen received the sugar painting with the poem in it, he knew about it even if he had been completely oblivious to what was happening around him.

They had been eagerly awaiting the two men's promotion from the Classics Hall to the Administrative Hall. Upon hearing that the promotion exam had been held ahead of schedule, they all flocked to the examination hall to watch the spectacle and, incidentally, observe their two future disciples. Instead of seeing how their disciples performed, they spotted a group of scheming colleagues.

Oh, and there's also the evil priest who, relying on his higher rank, wants to monopolize two promising young women.

How can we tolerate this?

Yang Anguo was immediately met with murderous glares from the group of PhDs around him. They were supporters of the Qingli Reforms, and powerful figures? They weren't afraid of them at all! They certainly wouldn't submit to the tyranny of a mere Imperial Secretary.

One said, "The Grand Master is getting old and probably doesn't have the energy to teach two students at the same time." Another said, "Mei Yaochen excels in poetry and prose, so I'll have to handle the policy essays." And then there were even supernatural pronouncements like, "I consulted a fortune teller the day before yesterday and discovered that I have a master-disciple relationship with these two young men."

After much arguing, no conclusion was reached. Finally, Yang Anguo, who was one rank higher, made the final decision: "What kind of behavior is this, arguing back and forth outside the examination hall? It only makes Su Xiaolang and Zhao Xiaolang laugh at us. We might as well wait for them to come out and choose for themselves."

This seemed like a fair solution, but some secretly cursed the head priest for being cunning. Choose for themselves? How could children know who was more knowledgeable? Wouldn't they all just choose someone they knew well? Wouldn't that give the head priest a huge advantage?

Seeing no better solution, they had no choice but to accept it. Their minds raced, trying to figure out how to make a good impression on their future apprentices. Several of the professors were known for their strict and upright character, feared not only by their students but also by their families. Yet now they were trying to soften their expressions, attempting to put on a kind smile; if their grandchildren saw them, they might think they were possessed.

When Fusu emerged from the examination hall, this was the scene before him. The scholars, who had only gathered on the day the Emperor arrived, were now mostly assembled at the entrance. They all greeted him with smiles, extremely amiable. One scholar, whom he had only met once before, kindly asked him, "Young Master Zhao, are you done with the exam? How did it go?"

Fusu: "...?"

He scratched his face: "It's alright."

Actually, it wasn't "okay" at all. Fusu had reason to suspect that the questions were deliberately made as difficult as possible. Famous passages from the classics, such as "The Great Learning" from the *Book of Rites* and "When the Foundation is Firm, the State is Secure," from the *Book of Documents*, were completely excluded. The questions were all from extremely obscure chapters. Fortunately, Fusu's memory was very fresh; if it had been two months later, he might not have remembered them.

Fusu spoke subtly, but Su Shi, who came out a little later, complained without reservation. However, after criticizing the difficulty of the questions, he said smugly, "Fortunately, I still remember them all."

Then he asked, "Zhao Xiaolang, what about you?"

Fusu nodded reservedly. In that instant, he felt the doctors' gazes towards them intensify. Wait, what on earth happened?

Yang Anguo answered his question: "In that case, after you are promoted to the Zhishizhai, you will need to learn to write policy essays, and you will need a teacher to guide you. Which scholar would you like to study under? Of course, you can choose me."

His last sentence prompted the doctor to secretly curse him for being cunning.

Fusu understood now. It was just like graduate students choosing advisors in later generations, except that their situation was quite special, with advisors coming to recommend themselves to them.

The problem is...

"Chief Yang, don't you want to check if I passed the exam first? What if I didn't pass?"

His question stunned everyone present. They had hardly considered the possibility of "failing." They couldn't help but exchange bewildered glances.

"You must have failed the test."

A clear voice from behind drew everyone's attention. It was Fan Chunren, carrying the exam papers, who came out. He met everyone's gaze with a smile in his eyes: "I just glanced at the papers of the two young men. Their specific scores are still unknown, but they have both passed the exam. There is no mistake about that."

Wait, how did you know that just by looking at it?

Fusu's dark eyes were full of doubt.

“Naturally, it’s because this exam paper was set by my… my father.” Fan Chunren could see through Fusu’s unfinished words with just one glance: “A few days ago, I asked my father to vouch for a few young men, and I briefly mentioned their deeds in a letter home. My father then became interested and personally set the exam questions for the Shengzhai examination.”

Fusu couldn't help but shiver.

He finally understood why the questions had become so difficult. It all came from that person! A ruthless individual who could eat dry porridge without batting an eye!

However, what Fan Chunren said next was even more shocking.

He gave the chief scholars a graceful bow. His composed demeanor, however, made the scholars feel uneasy: "We just overheard your words, gentlemen. May I ask on behalf of my father, would you two young men be willing to study under my father?"

"..."

"..."

An eerie silence fell over the room. The PhD students gritted their teeth and clenched their fists. Who was Fan Chunren's father? Fan Zhongyan. Compared to him, did they even have a slight advantage? But they couldn't criticize Fan Zhongyan's victory as unfairly as they had criticized Yang Anguo earlier. Because… they themselves wanted to follow in Fan Zhongyan's footsteps, how they envied Su Shi and Zhao Zongsu! Damn it!

Fusu, on the other hand, was stunned by the sudden windfall—he was almost jumping up and down: "Yes, of course I'm willing!"

Please, that's Fan Zhongyan!

Fan Zhongyan wants to take you as his apprentice, would you agree? Of course you would! If you didn't, there's reason to suspect you're a fool!

Fan Chunren said with a smile, "That's wonderful, Father will be very happy. Zhao Xiaolang, you used to call me Senior Brother Fan, now that title is finally official."

Fusu: "Hehe."

"Su Xiaolang, what about you?"

Just when everyone thought Su Shi would agree, he hesitated for a long time before saying, "I won't... I want to learn how to write essays from the Chancellor."

Fusu: "?"

Wait, what's going on with Su Shi? Leaving aside Fan Zhongyan's high reputation in later generations, he was a renowned minister even in his own time. From a pragmatic perspective, becoming his student would be entirely beneficial. Of course, those present were all reformers of the Qingli era who viewed fame and fortune as fleeting clouds, so it wasn't appropriate to say such things publicly. Fusu decided to ask him what was going on privately.

Fan Chunren didn't say much. The relationship between master and disciple is entirely up to fate, and as the senior disciple, he wouldn't force it. Besides, Yang Anguo was a person of excellent character and learning, so there was nothing to regret about becoming his student.

However, another problem arises.

Fan Zhongyan is currently far away on the frontier and will not return to the capital anytime soon. But the autumn imperial examinations are fast approaching, so what will happen to Xiao Fusu's policy essay teaching? The scholars are once again eager to compete for the last remaining spots. But they quickly give up.

Because Xiao Fusu pointed firmly at someone in the crowd: "I choose him!"

The reasons are also quite valid.

"Because I promised Dr. Mei I would write an article, and I still owe him that."

Mei Yaochen stroked his beard: "Hmph, so you still remember."

Fusu and the others couldn't help but glance at her sideways: "Don't be hypocritical now, Dr. Mei. You're clearly very happy; you can't help but smile. If you laugh again, your colleagues will beat you up!"

"Alright, since you still remember this matter, I will teach you how to write an essay."

Although Mei Yaochen was arrogant, his actions were decisive. He scooped up Fusu and carried him away to prevent any unforeseen complications. Before leaving, he didn't forget to instruct Fan Chunren: "After you finish grading Zhao Xiaolang's paper, remember to send it to me."

Fan Chunren showed no dissatisfaction with Mei Yaochen's decision to take his new junior brother away: "Yes."

After saying that, the nominal new master and apprentice left.

"Eh—" Fusu was a little confused: "Dr. Mei, where are we going?"

"Naturally, it's my study, where I'll teach you how to write articles."

"...Is the progress this fast?" Fusu protested slightly.

He had just finished one exam when he was immediately thrown into teaching policy essays—a schedule even more packed than a donkey's in the production team. To be honest, he was still dizzy and his mind was full of Confucian sayings.

“What do you mean by fast? Don’t you even know how many days are left until the autumn examination?” Mei Yaochen paused for a moment, then spoke the truth: “Besides, if you don’t pass the exam, the rest of the people will definitely complain about me, saying that even if they took me away, they still couldn’t turn me into a fine gem.”

You're putting a lot of pressure on yourself just by talking about it.

Fusu made a gesture of sewing his mouth shut, and sighed with a Versailles-like sigh: Is this the price of becoming a genius and being fought over by others?

They returned to Mei Yaochen's study. Fusu had been there many times before and felt no sense of unfamiliarity. However, the first time he came to deliver gifts, and the second time he sought help. Never before had Mei Yaochen seemed so determined to cultivate a genius, making Fusu a little nervous.

"Please sit down."

Even after half-climbing onto the chair and adjusting his posture, Fu Su, with his legs crossed, instinctively swung his thin legs slightly before stopping, keeping them firmly together. He suspected that Mei Yaochen smiled after seeing him do this. However, the smile vanished in an instant, as if it were just his imagination.

A moment later, a teacup was placed in front of him, and Mei Yaochen picked up a ceramic pot and began pouring water into it.

"Drink it."

Fusu took a sip as instructed, then his eyes widened: "Why is it sweet? Is it honey?"

"It's jujube blossom honey."

He couldn't help but sway while sitting in the chair. He would laugh whenever he tasted something sweet. Although this little Zhao was a bit precocious for his age, he was still only three years old and a child. Mei Yaochen thought to himself, and his expression unconsciously relaxed.

Of course, if he knew what Fusu was thinking about him, his relaxed expression would probably tighten again.

He seems so proper and serious, like a carefree hermit, yet he likes sweet drinks? It's quite a contrast, really. But then again, considering his original "tsundere" persona, it's not surprising at all.

A mysterious smile appeared on Fusu's lips. Perhaps his inner grumbling had calmed his nerves, or perhaps the sweetness did indeed ease tension. In any case, after drinking a glass of sweet water, his mood had improved considerably.

"What will the doctor teach me?"

"I won't teach you how to write an essay today," Mei Yaochen shook his head. "I'll ask you a question first. If you can figure it out, get out of class can end today."

Fusu perked up and sat up straighter: "What?"

What question can you answer so you can leave get out of class once you've figured it out?

He definitely needs to give a proper answer.

"Let me ask you," Mei Yaochen's voice suddenly became serious and distant, "In your opinion, where does the Great Song Dynasty currently suffer from its ills? Or rather, where are the greatest ills?"

What were the ills of the Song Dynasty?

To the average person, the Song Dynasty appeared to be a land of peace and prosperity. Even the long-criticized Western Xia had recently turned the tide. Calling it a golden age was an understatement. As for drawbacks? That would seem like nitpicking and creating problems where none existed.

But Fusu was different—he had clashed with Emperor Renzong in the Fengxian Hall. Although it was only his side of the battle.

Since answering this question would mean the end of class, Fusu had to be careful. He pondered for a moment before tentatively replying, "Is it... redundant officials, redundant troops, and redundant expenses—these three redundancies?"

Mei Yaochen: "..."

Seeing that the person did not answer for a long time, Fusu panicked a little and added another answer: "Is it a strong trunk but weak branches?"

"..."

"Uh, the troops are exhausted?"

"..."

"Prioritizing literature over martial arts?"

"..."

Fusu truly couldn't think of anything more. The real culprits behind the fall of the Northern Song Dynasty were Emperor Huizong and Emperor Qinzong, a father and son who resembled humans. But those were people born over a hundred years later. He couldn't very well be acting like a prophet now, could he?

And if I remember correctly, the Qingli New Deal and Wang Anshi's reforms were both aimed at solving the problems he just mentioned.

Fusu asked cautiously and somewhat hesitantly, "If what I said is wrong, Dr. Mei, what do you think?"

"What other insights could I possibly offer?" Mei Yaochen's words seemed to carry a deep sense of emotion: "Young Master Zhao, sometimes I truly don't know how your family has raised you."

It's unbelievable...it's unbelievable...

He couldn't find a suitable adjective.

"So does that mean I'm right?" Fusu was delighted; he knew the history textbook was correct.

On the contrary, Mei Yaochen didn't need to make that expression. He was also cheating. Rather, being able to see the true face of Mount Lu while in the midst of it is a truly remarkable skill.

However, since Mei Yaochen asked him this...

"Does this mean that the essay question in the autumn imperial examination will test this?"

"It was originally impossible. However, after the Song-Xia peace talks, the Emperor has been slow to transfer Minister Fu out of the capital. This year, he is serving as an examiner again, so he will likely set some questions that are relevant to the reforms."

"Therefore, apart from the previous agriculture, water conservancy, corvée labor, commerce, and border affairs, you should also prepare well for each item you just mentioned. Given Master Fu's nature, there will most likely be one or two questions related to it."

Fusu's vision went black: "..."

I should have known better than to say so much! Damn it!

"Emphasis on civil affairs over military matters, should we also prepare for this?"

Aren't you all civil officials? If you try to stop the court from emphasizing civil over military affairs, aren't you just throwing away your own jobs?

Mei Yaochen stroked his beard and smiled. But Fusu felt that the smile had a sly quality to it: "No, not at all. I just want to hear what Zhao Xiaolang has to say about this matter."

"...Okay, I'll write it."

How impolite his writing is is none of his business.

Fusu saw through Mei Yaochen's trick: answering correctly meant class could end earlier, that was true. But no one had ever said there wouldn't be homework assigned after class!

Feeling like he was carrying a heavy tortoise shell, he returned to his dormitory, only to find Su Shi already waiting for him there.

By the way—

Fusu immediately forgot his troubles and ran to his side: "Young Master Su!"

"Hey." Su Shi made a gesture: "I know what you're going to ask, but wait a minute, I need to tell you something first."

"What?"

"The Chancellor has graded the exam papers for the Ascension to the Fast. I did better than you, hehe." Even though it was only a one-question difference, good is good. Worth bragging about.

Two black lines immediately appeared on Fusu's forehead. To be honest, he hadn't cared about this matter at all from the beginning, and now he had long forgotten about it. But seeing Su Shi's smug look was inevitably annoying.

He killed the game with just one sentence: "A seven-year-old beating a three-year-old is an unfair victory. Oh right, I'm almost four years old... that's still an unfair victory."

Su Shi: "!!!"

"Zhao Xiaolang, you!"

His smug expression instantly turned to exasperation, yet he couldn't refute it, so he could only stand there dumbfounded, his face flushed red, allowing Fusu to savor the moment for several seconds—this was a limited-edition, speechless Su Shi. From then on, he was the one who silenced everyone with his sharp retorts, whether it was Huang Tingjian or Foyin. They were all victims.

You should take a good look at it.

Maybe I can brag about it later—I verbally defeated Su Zizhan!

After he had seen enough, he said seriously, "Alright, let me ask you, why were you unwilling to become Master Fan's disciple during the day?"

Upon hearing this, Su Shi immediately became alert, looking around repeatedly: "Others asked me about this today, but I didn't tell them. I'm only telling you this. You must keep it a secret."

Fusu suddenly had a bad feeling: "...Okay."

What should I do? Suddenly I don't really want to listen.

Su Shi leaned closer and lowered his voice, saying, "Have you heard that rumor? When Fan Zhongyan was young, his family was poor, so he would dry out his porridge and cut off a portion to eat whenever it was mealtime."

"What does this have to do with your unwillingness to become his disciple? Uh... really?"

Fusu found it utterly unbelievable; he felt like his brain was about to explode: "Just because of this?"

Su Shi nodded emphatically: "That's right. Although I know that Master Fan would not judge others by my own standards, what if? What if I can never eat delicious food again? I don't want to wrong my palate!"

Just for this? You gave up such a great opportunity?

...You really are a foodie at heart!

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Author's note: Good news: Little Fusu will be four years old soon.

...But how come he's only four years old!