Bizarre Cultivation: Starting from Being Beaten Up by Reality

Chapter 4 Hope

"Master Chen, the book will be published in ten days. How are the preparations going?"

The round-faced, short, middle-aged scholar respectfully replied, "Dean, the tables, chairs, and benches have already been commissioned to be worked on day and night, and they should be completed within five days. However..."

"Don't beat around the bush."

"It's just that the fifty volumes of the 'Enlightenment Classic' that we ordered might not be delivered in time because the printing press said there were some problems with the printing."

The headmaster of Shenmu Academy widened his eyes slightly. "When the students arrive, do you want them to be reading to your old face?"

The tall, middle-aged scholar standing to the side thought for a moment and said to the two men, "Why don't I copy it by hand for the students?"

"Master Yang's calligraphy is famous in our county. It is a great fortune for these students that he personally copied it by hand. However, there are still ten days left, and it is too late."

Master Yang thought for a moment, glanced at the fat man, and said, "If Master Chen assists me in copying, perhaps it will be possible."

The round-faced fat man felt like he had shot himself in the foot, but he couldn't refuse in front of the dean, so he simply said, "Even the two of us might not be able to make it in time. If another person could help..."

The two teachers, Chen and Yang, both looked at the dean sitting there.

The headmaster of Shenmu Academy calmly sipped his hot tea, seemingly oblivious to their conversation. Was it appropriate for a dignified headmaster to have children copy books?

This is what Lin Fan heard at the doorway.

A few days ago, he would have pushed the door open without hesitation.

However, he hesitated now. He couldn't even read, yet he could write, which seemed very incongruous.

After what happened last time, will I be arrested again as if I were 'reincarnated'?

Lin Fan already knew that he had to be careful in doing things in this world, otherwise these pedantic and ignorant locals might cause some misunderstandings.

If he weren't so short of money, Lin Fan would definitely have given up this time.

Squeak.

The three teachers looked in surprise at the thin boy who pushed open the door and entered.

“Three masters, I overheard your conversation outside the door. I can write, and I would like to help you copy books.”

The three people reacted differently upon hearing this.

Master Yang's face turned ashen; he seemed extremely angry.

"Get out! Get out! Is this a place you can come in? Are you out of your mind to eavesdrop on our conversation? Get out of here!"

Lin Fan persisted: "Master, I really can write, and it's barely legible. Please tell me where the paper and pen are, so I can write for you."

"I told you to get out of here, didn't you understand?" Master Yang was so angry that his eyebrows stood on end. He had never seen such an impolite country bumpkin.

The round-faced Master Chen's eyes darted around, and he stopped Master Yang, who was about to push Lin Fan.

"Oh, oh, Master Yang, why get angry? I think it's alright to let the child try. We won't lose anything, and who knows, maybe he really knows how?"

Master Yang raised an eyebrow: "Hmph, how could a country bumpkin who came here to work have ever touched a pen? Old Chen, you actually believe his nonsense?"

Master Chen had already brought Lin Fan paper, inkstone, brush, and ink, and also gave him a copy of the "Enlightenment Classic" for reference.

Master Yang wanted to stop him, but seeing Lin Fan's skillful ink-grinding movements, he shut his mouth and decided to observe further.

With a rosy blush, Master Chen smiled and asked, "Young friend, are you fourteen this year?"

While grinding ink, Lin Fan replied, "Master Chen, I am sixteen years old this year."

Master Chen asked casually, but it piqued Master Yang's curiosity: "Young man, how many years did you attend a private school, and how many books have you read?"

Lin Fan answered truthfully, "Master Yang, I am illiterate."

Upon hearing this, Master Yang felt instantly mocked. Children learn to read before they can write; what are they supposed to write if they can't read? How can they write if they don't even know the characters? Are they just making talismans?

He was about to snatch the calligraphy brush from Lin Fan's hand, but when he reached out his hand, he froze in place.

The two teachers stared blankly at the first character Lin Fan wrote.

The dean finally put down his teacup, stood up, and stared intently at Lin Fan's hand.

Although the way this kid holds the pen is a bit strange, every stroke is just right.

Silence fell over the room. The autumn wind blew through the ginkgo trees in the courtyard, scattering a few leaves.

This kid's handwriting seems better than mine, but I'm not entirely sure. I'll take another look.

Lin Fan finished copying a page. He couldn't read, so he wrote very slowly, and he wasn't satisfied with his handwriting. It looked like scribbles.

Lin Fan put down his pen and looked at the three of them.

The three teachers were at a loss for words. If even one of their students could write such characters, it would be worthy of great praise.

But he happened to be an illiterate country carpenter.

Master Chen blushed and struggled for a long time before finally managing to utter a few words.

"Young man, your writing is alright. It'll be passable as an 'Enlightenment Classic.' But, Master Yang, you have more to say about calligraphy."

“Ah, this character is good…” Master Yang was called out and almost told the truth, “It is good in form, but it lacks some meaning. Master Chen is right.”

After saying this, Master Yang's palms were sweating profusely. A gentleman should be honest, but he was really afraid that he had misjudged the situation.

That's impossible! How could someone from the countryside write such beautiful characters?

The two men then looked at the dean, who stroked his beard and said, "What you two gentlemen say makes sense."

Lin Fan breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the matter was basically settled. They were the ones who were anxious in the first place. As long as he showed them his skills, they would definitely be tempted.

The dean took a sip of tea and casually asked, "Young man, no, young friend, what's your name? Where did you learn to write? Why can you write but not read?"

Master Chen glanced at the dean and said, "Why don't you ask questions one by one? This rapid-fire approach is very ungentlemanly."

"Dean, my name is Lin Fan. A gentleman who was passing by taught me how to write. He stayed at my house for a month. He said that you can't learn many characters in a month, so it's better to learn to write, which may be useful in the future."

"So you only studied for a month?" The dean's hand holding the teacup trembled again.

"No, I started practicing calligraphy at the age of eight every day, following the teacher's instructions without ever slacking off," Lin Fan replied without any nervousness. In his previous life, he did indeed start practicing calligraphy at the age of eight, and he certainly didn't fully recognize all the characters he wrote.

The three teachers looked on with understanding.

This passage was prepared by Lin Fan before he entered the room; he had crafted a story of the 'adventure' type that people in this era loved most.

“No wonder your pen-holding gesture was a bit strange; it turns out you haven’t had a teacher to guide and correct you.” Master Yang even added details for Lin Fan himself.

"Young friend Lin, let me be frank. No matter how much your wages are now, our academy will pay you ten times that amount, and you will copy books for us for ten days."

"Thank you, Master Chen." Lin Fan thought quickly in his mind while pretending to flip through the "Enlightenment Classic" rapidly.

“I am worried about failing the teachers’ kindness. I currently earn six coins a day, and ten times that would be sixty coins, which is quite a lot. At my current pace, I can only copy about three books like this a day. How about I copy one book and you give me twenty coins? This way, I can avoid slacking off and making mistakes.”

"I can probably only copy about four books a day, that's about right," Master Yang nodded in agreement.

Lin Fan looked at the books. He knew that the price he quoted was much lower than that of the printing house. As long as they agreed, he would copy all 50 books even if he had to stay up all night.

Fifty books, twenty coins each, that's how you settle your cash.

"Young friend Lin is truly honest, so we will do as you say."

Lin Fan breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the paper and pen on the table. This was his hope!