Who Said a Study Servant Can't Win the Imperial Exam? - Chapter 12 - The Joy of Opening a Book

In the end, Old Madam Cui relented and agreed to her youngest grandson’s request.

Three days later, Cui Xian was sent off to the Pei Mansion.

At the same time, the ten taels of silver were divided into two portions.

Five taels went to the household fund, helping to support the family and cover Yu-Ge’er’s education expenses.

The other five taels were handed to Chen.

The cartload of gifts-rice, flour, oil, and eggs-was carefully stored away. The meat was cooked and set aside for future meals.

As for the two bolts of fabric, one was kept at home, while the other was taken to the county town by Eldest Aunt Lin to have three sets of clothes urgently tailored for Cui Xian.

That evening, Eldest Aunt returned from the county town in a hurry. She refused Chen’s offer to help and busied herself in the kitchen, whipping up a large bowl of stir-fried pork with dried radish and another bowl of scrambled eggs with scallions.

The aroma filled the house.

But even Cui Xuan, who was known for her love of good food, sat silently, not touching her chopsticks.

She knew all too well where this meal had come from-

It was the result of “selling” her younger brother.

Eldest Aunt Lin, her face tinged with guilt, piled Cui Xian’s bowl high with meat. “Xian-Ge’er, eat. Eat as much as you can.”

As she spoke, her voice wavered with shame. Sending an eight-year-old child out to work so her own son could study-Lin, the self-proclaimed matriarch of the Cui Family, could no longer hold her head high.

But her opinion didn’t matter.

Old Madam Cui had made the final decision: tomorrow, Yu-Ge’er would be sent to Teacher Gu in the county town to begin formal studies.

“That’s enough, Eldest Aunt. I can’t eat anymore,” Cui Xian said, shaking his head at the overflowing bowl. He turned to the others, urging, “Sister, Grandmother, everyone, please eat. By the way, where’s Brother?”

Lin glanced at Old Madam Cui, her expression awkward.

Eldest Uncle muttered, “He’s hiding in the bedroom, crying. Won’t come out. I’ll try to talk to him later tonight.”

Cui Yu had flatly refused to go to school.

That afternoon, the usually obedient boy had caused quite a scene, loudly crying and protesting that he would never use money earned by “selling” his younger brother to fund his education.

But Old Madam Cui’s decision was final, and no one could sway her.

Hearing this, Cui Xian picked up his bowl of meat. “I’ll go talk to him.”

After Cui Xian left, silence fell over the dining table in the Main Hall. No one spoke.

Moments later, Cui Zhongyuan could no longer hold back his emotions. Leaning against Chen’s shoulder, he quietly wiped away tears.

He was heartbroken for his son.

If Cui Xian had been forced to become a Study Servant, Cui Zhongyuan, as his father, would have stood up to protect him without hesitation.

But this time…

It was Xian-Ge’er’s own decision.

Earlier, Cui Xian’s declaration-“A hero is not defined by his origins”-had not only moved Old Madam Cui but had also deeply touched Cui Zhongyuan and Chen.

Their son wanted to venture out into the world. As parents, how could they stand in his way?

In the bedroom of Eldest Uncle’s family, Cui Yu was curled up on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, knees hugged to his chest as he silently wept.

The edge of the blanket was lifted, and a smaller figure quickly slipped in, nudging Cui Yu’s shoulder with their own.

Cui Yu shifted to the side.

The intruder followed, pressing their shoulder against his, moving closer each time he tried to retreat-until Cui Yu was backed into the corner of the bed, with no room left to escape.

From under the blanket came Cui Xian’s teasing voice. “Oh dear, crying again?”

That single remark, for some inexplicable reason, managed to ignite Cui Yu’s temper.

He suddenly threw off the blanket, his eyes red with anger. “Laugh! You’re still laughing! Do you even understand how dangerous the world is? And yet you dare to become a Study Servant? Staying home to begin formal studies-doesn’t that sound far better than… than… this?”

Cui Yu couldn’t even muster the courage to finish the phrase “becoming a servant.”

Cui Xian let out a sigh. “If I go to study, then what about you?”

Cui Yu answered almost without thinking, “I’m your elder brother. If anyone should go to be a Study Servant, it should be me. If the Pei Family won’t take me, then I’ll come back. Worst case, I’ll do as Grandmother does-skip a meal a day. That way, we can still afford to send you to study.”

Hearing this, Cui Xian felt a wave of emotion wash over him. He looked at Cui Yu, whose face still carried the softness of childhood, and thought to himself: So being an elder brother isn’t just about age-it’s about responsibility.

Fine. Let it be.

If his elder brother, parents, and grandmother had all accepted this arrangement, what harm was there in acknowledging one more “elder brother”?

With that, Cui Xian spoke earnestly, “Brother.”

Cui Yu’s eyes lit up with hope. “Have you changed your mind? Little Brother, your words today moved Grandmother. Listen to me-go to her now and tell her you’ve decided not to go to the Pei Family. Tell her you want to stay and begin formal studies. Trust me, Grandmother will agree.”

For all his youth, Cui Yu had a remarkable clarity of thought.

As he spoke, he grabbed Cui Xian’s hand, eager to pull him toward the door.

But Cui Xian didn’t budge.

Cui Yu turned back, his voice almost pleading. “Little Brother, I’m begging you! The thought of using the money from ‘selling’ you to fund my studies-it makes me feel awful.”

He was only nine years old. In a modern world, he’d still be a carefree child, cherished by his parents. But in the harsh realities of a feudal, impoverished farming family, life had forced him to grow up too soon. He had learned to compromise, to shoulder the responsibilities of an elder brother, and to be so mature that it was heartbreaking.

“I’ve already made up my mind to go to the Pei Family,” Cui Xian said. “Brother, you must be the one to study. We share the same blood. Just as you can’t bear to see me become a servant, I can’t bear to see you give up your future. But in the end, someone has to go, right?”

Cui Xian smiled and extended his fist. “We’re brothers-no need for flowery words. Come on, let’s bump fists and make a brotherly pact.”

“No matter whether Father or Uncle ever make it onto the imperial examination list, you and I must each strive from this moment forward. Together, as brothers united, we’ll meet at the summit one day and bring honor to the Cui family name.”

Cui Yu shook his head repeatedly, refusing to bump fists.

Cui Xian had once summed up Cui Yu in his mind with a single phrase: “A gentleman in the making, even at a young age.”

And a gentleman, as they say, can be persuaded through reason.

Feigning distress, Cui Xian continued, “Though I’ve decided to go to the Pei Family as a Study Servant, my heart is uneasy. At a time like this, shouldn’t you, as my elder brother, be the one comforting me? Why must I be the one to comfort you? Your studying is already settled-are you really unwilling to make a simple brotherly pact with me?”

Sure enough, after hearing this, Cui Yu’s resolve wavered. His eyes reddened, and he reluctantly gave in.

With trembling hands, he extended his fist. Two small, delicate fists pressed firmly together.

“…Fine, I promise you. We brothers will each work hard, meet at the summit one day, and together bring honor to the Cui family name.”

In their humble, impoverished home, amidst the struggles of a poor family, two young boys made a pact that would shape their futures.

Two young boys looked at each other, fists colliding silently yet with boundless force.

The next day, Cui Yu left home in tears.

Accompanied by his father, Cui Boshan, who had prepared everything needed, Cui Yu went to Teacher Gu’s private school in the County Town to begin formal studies.

Several other children of similar age were also there to start their learning.

The old Teacher led them into the Classroom, each taking their seat with a scroll on their desks.

The Teacher said that the scrolls were precious and could be carefully perused; not understanding them immediately was okay, as comprehension would come with time.

He also said that this was the first lesson of life; there was no rush to learn to read, but each should think about why they were studying.

The other children looked confused, lost, or mischievously distracted.

Only Cui Yu, sitting in the Classroom, first wiped his tears, then repeatedly rubbed his palms on his clothes.

The Teacher had made a mistake.

This was his second lesson in life.

His first lesson had been harsh and despair-inducing: only by sacrificing his younger brother could he sit here and attend class.

Therefore, from now on, others might play, daydream, or slack off in their studies.

But Cui Yu could not afford to do any of those.

As he repeatedly wiped his hands clean, Cui Yu pondered: Why study?

To avoid sacrificing his brother, to bring glory to the Cui Family, and to never be a “mud leg” again.

To ensure that all the “mud legs” could study without having to sacrifice their own brothers or sisters.

Books are vast, spanning thousands of years and read by countless people, making one feel increasingly insignificant.

Yet books are also small, their infinite expanse unable to fulfill even a child’s simple wish before beginning formal studies.

Unbeknownst to him, Cui Yu had just set forth a vision of tremendous scope.

All he saw was the scroll on the desk.

The morning light gently streamed into the Classroom.

Hands rubbed raw by hemp cloth clothing but clean, he cautiously opened the scroll on the desk.

It read: Opening a book is always beneficial.