Chapter 323 The Master's Examination
A gentle breeze, carrying a hint of chill, swept by, and suddenly a burst of chattering children's voices reached my ears.
Jiang Ling looked up and saw five or six children, about eight or nine years old, sitting in a circle on an open space not far away. Each of them was holding a branch of varying lengths and scratching at the frozen, hard mud.
A boy of about twelve years old stood in the middle, dressed in relatively neat coarse cloth clothes with a simple cloth belt around his waist. He had a smug look on his face and had the air of a "little teacher".
He was pointing at a mark on the ground and saying something loudly.
"Look closely, this is the character '人' (person), with a left-falling stroke and a right-falling stroke. It should be written with a graceful and flowing style!"
As the boy spoke, he drew the character "人" (person) on the ground, the strokes of which were fairly neat.
The children followed suit, but some wrote the left-falling stroke too short, and some wrote the right-falling stroke too hastily, resulting in crooked and messy strokes.
Jiang Ling found it interesting, so she leaned on her cane and slowly walked over.
She walked very quietly, without disturbing them.
"Next is the character '口' (mouth). It should be square and neat, with the frame written correctly, not crooked!"
The children tried to draw the character "口" (mouth), but some drew it as an oval, and some had uneven corners, which made them laugh.
The boy patiently corrected each of the characters, and then wrote down the third character – “木” (wood).
Jiang Ling's gaze fell on the character "木" (wood) on the soil, and her brows twitched slightly.
The boy wrote the character "木" (wood), but there was an extra hook below the vertical stroke.
The original character “木” was changed to the character “朩”.
She didn't want to cause trouble, but seeing the young children trying so hard to imitate the wrong stroke, she worried that continuing to teach them like this would mislead them.
She coughed lightly and said gently, "Young man, this stroke of yours seems to be a little off."
The young man, who was basking in the pride of his "teaching," was startled by the voice. He looked up and saw an unfamiliar woman leaning on a cane. His face immediately showed a dismissive expression: "What's wrong with that? That's how my master taught me!"
Jiang Ling took two steps closer and, using the tip of her cane, clearly and slowly wrote a standard "木" (wood) character on the open ground beside her, following the correct stroke order.
“Look, the character ‘木’ doesn’t have a hook. If it did, it would become the character ‘朩’. The two characters have completely different pronunciations and meanings.”
The boy stared at the contrast between the two words on the ground, his face tense, clearly struggling internally, but still verbally defiant:
"You...you're talking nonsense! My master is the most learned teacher in the village, Master Yan! How could he teach wrong? You must have misremembered!"
A little boy with a runny nose looked at this one, then at that one, and timidly tugged at the older boy's sleeve.
"Brother Tiger, it seems...it seems a little different..."
The boy named Hu Zi blushed even more, feeling both annoyed at being questioned and perhaps sensing that something was amiss, but too embarrassed to admit it.
He stomped his foot: "You wait! I'll call my master to settle this!"
After saying that, he turned and ran, his cotton shoes leaving a trail of hurried footprints in the snow.
The other children gathered around, curiously looking at the two "wood" characters on the ground, whispering about which one was correct.
Jiang Ling smiled helplessly, understanding the child's thoughts.
She simply stood there, looking at the bewildered little children, and said softly, "Don't rush to learn that character. I'll teach you how to write your own names, okay?"
The children's eyes lit up, and they all nodded.
Jiang Ling then leaned on her crutch and patiently asked each child for their name, then carefully wrote it down on the snow with a twig and explained the meaning of each word to them.
About the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Hu Zi hurriedly arrived, pulling along a middle-aged man in his early forties who wore a long blue cloth robe and had a short beard.
He was Tiger's master, the Master Yan that the villagers talked about.
Master Yan usually teaches at a private school in town. When he occasionally returns to the village, Hu Zi would pester him for advice. This time, when he was invited over, he thought something serious had happened.
"Master, it's her! She said the characters you taught are wrong!" Tiger pointed at Jiang Ling, angrily complaining.
The esteemed teacher first bowed to Jiang Ling, then his gaze fell upon the names Jiang Ling had written, paused slightly, and then looked at the controversial character "木" (wood) on the ground.
His brows furrowed, then his face flushed slightly as he said to Hu Zi, “Hu Zi, you did write it wrong. The character ‘木’ (wood) doesn’t have a hook, only the character ‘手’ (hand) does. I taught you these two characters the other day, did you mix them up?”
Tiger immediately deflated, his face filled with disbelief: "Master, was I wrong?"
Master Yan nodded, and then carefully examined Jiang Ling.
Although she was dressed simply and looked haggard, she had a calm demeanor and clear eyes, unlike an ordinary village woman.
Surprise and curiosity flashed in his eyes: "Young lady... you've actually been to school? I wonder how many years you studied? How many characters do you know?"
Jiang Ling bowed in return, then hesitated for a moment.
It's impossible to lie that you can't read at all, but if you said you've been studying for more than ten years since you were three, it would probably scare people.
Her voice was calm: “In response to your question, Master, my family was relatively well-off when I was young, and I was fortunate enough to study with my elder brother for a few years. I can recognize most of the commonly used characters.”
"How many years?" Master Yan pressed, his tone more inquisitive.
These days, families that can afford to send their daughters to school for several years are definitely not ordinary farming households.
Jiang Ling was unwilling to elaborate, only vaguely saying, "It will take... about ten years."
"Ten years?!" Master Yan blurted out, his face filled with unconcealed shock.
"You're a young lady, and you've studied for ten years?"
In this northern village, most women only need to learn to do housework. It is already rare for them to be able to read a few words. Even in well-off families, daughters are only allowed to study for three to five years at most, learning needlework and account books, which is considered extremely enlightened.
Studying for more than ten years? Unheard of!
He himself studied diligently for half his life, but only studied for a little over ten years. Now he teaches at a private school in town and is the most learned person in the surrounding area.
Master Yan was filled with doubts, both surprised and suspicious.
He pondered for a moment, then suddenly said, "Since you say you can read, young lady, may I be so bold as to ask you a few questions?"
Jiang Ling was bored anyway, and seeing that Master Yan meant no harm and was just curious, she smiled and nodded: "Master, please ask. I will answer arbitrarily. If there are any mistakes, please correct me."
Seeing her composure, Master Yan believed her even more.
He cleared his throat and asked first, "How do you write the character '礼' (lǐ, meaning etiquette)?"
Jiang Ling picked up a tree branch and wrote the character "礼" (li, meaning etiquette) on the ground, stroke by stroke, with neat strokes and a symmetrical structure.
"The character on the left is the radical '示' (shì), and the character on the right is the character '豊' (fēng), which implies that one is well-mannered, respectful of heaven and loving towards others."
Master Yan nodded and asked about a few more characters with complex structures, such as "睿", "曦", and "衢". Jiang Ling wrote them all down and briefly explained their meanings, without any errors.
Master Yan's surprise deepened, and he turned to examine the classics: "What are the first two lines of the Book of Songs, Zhou Nan?"
"The ospreys cry 'guan guan' on the river's islet. A fair maiden is the object of a gentleman's affections." Jiang Ling replied casually, her voice clear and melodious.
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