The more Madam Wang-Zhang thought about it, the more odd it felt. If this was another familyâs children, then she wouldnât say anything, but this was her own children, so how could she not know what was going on?
Her son was a bit clingy towards her. Every day, he would go visit her the moment he woke up. If she was awake, he would greet her and give her a kiss. According to her maid, if she was not awake, Xiaoâbao would try to pull up her blanket to tuck her in before he left.
It was also the same when she went to sleep at night. First, he would come over to visit her. If she was still awake, he would stick around for a bit, but if she was asleep, he would give her a little bow before leaving. This was why she liked her son this much even though she knew that her son was different from other children. If he was really a monster, why would he treat his mother this well?
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These two children also treated her husband quite well. They were also very serious when they were studying. Her husband had said it more than once that, regardless of who their kidâs teacher was, the teacher would think that it was his greatest luck to have students like them. They understood everything that he taught them, and they were able to answer any questions he asked them. The only worry about teaching such a student is that eventually there will be nothing left to teach them.
Who would believe that children like this would remain silent when they heard their father reciting poems? She thought about the childrenâs conversation and a special idea surfaced to Madam Wang-Zhangâs mind.
"Husband, after hearing your poems, I don't seem to like the setting sun very much anymore. Why don't you go visit Mother and Father first, and Iâll watch the children play here for a while and then go back later." Madam Wang-Zhang was ordering her husband to get out of here.
Father Zhang did not think too much about it, and when he heard his wifeâs words, he also agreed that he should go visit them. He really wanted to see his parents, but he was also scared that his wife would make him compose another poem. Composing so many poems on the spot was not something an ordinary person like him can do. He drank another bowl of wine and got up and walked towards the yard where his parents were.
After seeing that Father Zhang had left, Madam Wang-Zhang said to her son, "Xiaoâbao, tell me, what does âfallen flowers are not heartlessâ mean?"
"Ah? Mother, what are you talking about?" Zhang Xiaoâbao stared at his mother in a daze. His appearance could not be any cuter: a chubby body, a round face, big eyes and batting eyelashes. Anyone who saw him would want to hug him and give him a few kisses.
"Recite the poem to me, I want to hear it right now." Madam Wang-Zhang resisted the urge to kiss her soon and asked calmly.
"A poem? What else can it be? 'Unlimited sorrow extended to the angled sunlight; reaching the end of the horizon after a whip of the riding crop. Withering red flowers were not heartless; turning into spring soil to nurture flowers.' That's it." Zhang Xiaoâbao spoke helplessly. If anyone else asked him this, he would definitely pretend to be stupid, but he couldn't bear to fool his mom like that. He disclosed a lot to her in the past already, so telling her about this poem didnât really make a difference.
"So that was what the line was. âWithering red flowers were not heartless; turning into spring soil to nurture flowers.â So that is the real poem; what about the next one?" Madam Wang-Zhang heard her son's words and sighed. Her son was the most amazing one in the family. However, if she told anyone else about this, no one would believe her. Like her son, her daughter-in-law also hid her talent away.
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"You say it, it's your turn." Zhang Xiaoâbao nudged Wang Juan.
"Mother-in-law, the next one is actually written about somewhere else--- Hangâzhou West Lake. There are more lotus flowers there than here. 'After all, the scenery of West Lake in mid-June is not the same as the four seasons. Lotus leaves were seamless with the sky, so how could green be lacking. The lotus flowers that reflected the sun were exceptionally red.' Xiaoâbao and I heard other people talking about this scenery, so I randomly came up with this."
Seeing that Zhang Xiaoâbao had given in, Wang Juan also replied back honestly. She was afraid that someone would misunderstand, so she tried to explain herself.
Madam Wang-Zhang did not want to ask about the third poem. She already knew about the two childrenâs abilities, and in particular, her daughter-in-law Wang Juanâs talents. It was quite evident when that rich family chose to not buy fertile land at the beginning. The two Manors have changed ever since these two children were here. Every single business trade and every calculated plan made her feel frightened.
The difference from what other people thought was that these two children were herâs, especially Xiaoâbao. Every single time there were delicious foods or useful items, they would send her some first. As long they were her children, it didnât matter whether they were monsters or deities.
"Xiaoâbao, Juanâjuan, never tell anyone about this in the future." Madam Wang-Zhang was afraid of losing her children, so she tried to protect them.
"Yes, we wonât tell anymore." Zhang Xiaoâbao and Wang Juan replied at the same time. They were not fools, and they knew about the consequences if they let others know about this. .
"That's good. Go back and sleep early. The weather is hot now; remember to get Shiâliu to help catch the mosquitoes." Madam Wang-Zhang kissed the two children's faces while feeling relieved.
She did have many worries and concerns like other people. As long as her child is good, then that was enough. Even a twelve year old can become a prime minister, so why canât her child become a prime minister at the age of eight? That person with the surname Gan can rise to the top despite his young age, so what canât her son be comparably accomplished at an even younger age?
*
"Is it too scary?" Zhang Xiaâobao asked Wang Juan when they came back.
"Who did you scare? If they were frightened, then they would have been frightened a long time ago, so stop thinking about it. The only strength that the people here posseess is faith. It doesnât matter if weâre slightly amazing. In fact, it is better like this because we can strengthen their faith. You have to know that they donât care whether you are a monster or a deity. They only care about whether you can give them any benefits spiritually or materialistically."
It was obvious to Wang Juan. Back then, she had seen eight year-olds mentally solve systems of equations with two variables. The Special Class for the Gifted Young was a real program that had truly gifted people. There were plenty of people with an IQ of160. It would be impossible to just arrest people over this, right? These people should be trained.
"Oh, I'm just asking. I'm just scared that others would worry. Let's go to bed first and then get up to study later. Itâs important to be well-educated." Zhang Xiaoâbao wanted to find someone to rant to, and Wang Juan was conveniently a good listener.
"Alright, letâs sleep." Wang Juan agreed, and the two of them laid down on the bed again.
Four hours later, the two were awakened by Shiâliu again, and then they sat down at the table together.
Zhang Xiaobao finished grinding the inkstick and he realized that Wang Juan did not move at all.He touched her and asked, "What are you doing? Did you not get enough sleep just now? Then keep sleeping. Skipping one time wonât make a huge difference."
"Who said I didnât sleep enough? Iâm thinking about how I can help you improve very quickly? From the looks of it, you want to get a Xiuâcai degree. That is not easy. You need to at least be able to compose poems. Itâs not good enough to just plagiarize. The test questions might not ask about a topic that you know about.
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For example, what if they want you to write about a bug, what will you compose? You can write 'Regardless of flat land or mountain tips1' Will people acknowledge that this poem is about bugs? Right now, bees are not completely taxonomized yet. What will you do then? "
Wang Juan pulled Zhang Xiaoâbao's hand aside and frowned while talking.
Zhang Xiaoâbao also understood that it would not be easy for him to learn in a short amount of time. In particular, composing poems would require accumulated knowledge and experience. He never worked hard on this area when he was young, and when he was older, he made a living through conning people so he did not learn a lot of basic knowledge. It cannot be said that it was his regret or that it was his fate.
Right now, he wanted to get a highly honorable degree, so he can only work slowly to accumulate some knowledge. Seeing that Wang Juan was brainstorming, he asked, "Then do you have any way? You went through proper schooling, unlike me. I learned about practical things in prison. Who would have thought that those practical things were now the least practical?"
"Be patient, I'm thinking about it. Oh, do you know the ââRhymes of the Bamboo Hatted Man?â" Wang Juan thought for a while, and finally thought of something.
"I don't know, is it âOn a lone boat, the bamboo hatted man cried, fishing alone in the winter snow?â Donât tell me you want me to paint. That wonât work, I donât have the skills for that and Iâm not interested in painting. Even if I spend my entire life learning how to, I still wonât be good at painting." Zhang Xiaoâbao rejected.
"What painting? What you just recited is the poem 'River Snow'. I was asking about âRhymes of the Bamboo Hatted Manâ. Inside that book are couplets, and auspicious lines. 'From the sky to earth, rain to wind, and land to water'. Have you heard of it?" Wang Juan asked Zhang Xiaoâbao again.
"Yeah, I heard of it. I have heard a few words when I was eavesdropping on other people's lectures. I remember that the next line is 'Hidden lightning, smoky fog. The sun sets in the center of the sky.' Right?" Zhang Xiaoâbao recalled.
"Yes, it seems that you were listening intently when you were eavesdropping." Wang Juan praised him. She had heard about Zhang Xiaoâbaoâs childhood experiences already.
Zhang Xiao'bao understood this time, but he felt that there was something wrong. He thought about it and said, "Now it is the Tang Dynasty, will it be suitable for me to write couplets? Other people are going to write full poems."
"You're stupid, poems have regulated schemes too. For example, for regulated verse poetry, it is important to have a scheme, and in particular, it is important to have a rhyming scheme. Regulated schemes form the basis for couplets. Do you understand?" Wang Juan had a better understanding of this aspect than Zhang Xiaoâbao since she has a Masters degree. Regardless of what area of study she studied, this information was found in her textbooks.
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Furthermore, her upbringing was different. She started learning all of these from a young age. She might not have natural talents like Zhang Xiaobao, but when it comes to basic education, even ten Zhang Xiaoâbao working together could not compare to her.
Zhang Xiao'bao also knew that Wang Juanâs family was rich and powerful, and she had to learn all sorts of things. Seeing Wang Juanâs serious look, he knew that this person, who was accompanying him, would not harm him, so he had to submit, "I donât know. I'll listen to what you say, at least in this respect. Tell me how to study."
"Well, itâs good to know your shortcomings. Letâs recite Rhymes of the Bamboo Hatted Man. I was about to recite this by heart when I was four years old, I even won first place in a city competition. I won through my own efforts, and not through my familyâs influence. Wang Juan appreciated Zhang Xiaoâbaoâs attitude--- he was able to acknowledge his shortcomings. These types of people were the most terrifying because they would study really hard to save their self-esteem.
Zhang Xiao'bao asked sincerely, "Do you still remember it now? Teach me. Once Iâm done learning it, Iâll teach my dad too."
"Okay, learn from the beginning. âFrom the sky to earth, rain to wind, The stars Altair and Lyrae are side by side in the galaxy, the Ori star in the west and the Commerce star in the east competes to shineâŠââ
Translator's Notes
Regardless of flat land or mountain tips
This is a line from the poem called âBeeâ. The comments on how bees gather nectar from hundreds of flowers to make honey, and puts so much effort into producing honey just for others to taste.