Explore Chapter 10 of "牛天赐传" with the original Chinese text, English translation, detailed Chinese vocabulary explanations, and audio of the Chinese original. Listen and improve your reading skills.
To study, a tutor was hired, and if the boy was bad, he would be beaten. This made Tianci lose even his appetite for proper meals. What was a book? Although Old Mrs. Niu spoke of official style, there were few books in the Niu household. Old Niu occasionally read a chapbook, his main purpose being to read a few lines so his eyes would close quicker. A single chapbook might be read for who knows how many days, and might any day be used to wrap copper coins. Tianci had no idea what a book was, still less why one should study it. The word "tutor" also sounded strange and fearsome-anything with the word "old" in it was mostly frightening, like "old thing" or "tiger"...
"The first day of the eighth lunar month is coming soon!" Tianci asked Sihu six or seven times a day: "How many days left?"
"It's still early, three more days!" Sihu wanted to give his friend some comfort, but in the end told the truth. Three days! Poor Tianci! "Don't be afraid, after school we can still practice with knives and play, can't we?"
No escape! The two friends were silent, waiting for calamity. All of Tianci's imagination was at work: the book might be a little demon, the teacher at least a monster that ate children. The more he thought, the more he feared, and the fear became vague; in the end he couldn't know why, why summon a monster for a child? Why must he study?
"Aren't we allowed to play? Not even to play properly?!" Tianci's little heart exploded. He instinctively knew that play was his right, why was it taken away? Why?
Sihu was stirred; he recalled his own childhood: "You're still much better off than me! You're seven? I never played since I was six-picking coal cinders, collecting scrap paper, helping my mother with hard labor all day, no time to play. At eight, my mother died." He paused. "At eight, I sold ice in summer and half-empty <<<peanut>>s in winter. At nine, I became an apprentice at a small knife shop, pulling bellows from morning to night. Later I sold ice again; I ran away from the knife shop because I couldn't stand the smoke and heat of the bellows-even my feet were covered in pus-filled blisters, patches of them! And I got beaten! At twelve, I came here as a menial servant, and I've been here ever since! You're much better off! Don't be afraid, after school I'll play with you; no lies! We two brothers are forever good friends, aren't we?"
Tianci gained a little comfort. But as soon as he entered the inner courtyard, this comfort could hardly hold.
"See if you still dare to throw bricks at my window?!" Nanny Ji, seeing that Tianci had reached school age, couldn't help thinking of her own child; thinking of her own child, how could she be nice to Tianci? "You're cooped up all day, under the teacher's control, serves you right! See if you still misbehave-they'll hit you with the big board, and I'll have time to scold then!"
Mother kept lecturing too. The more he avoided her, the more he ran into her, and every meeting brought a scolding: "Fuguan, you're about to become a student, do you hear? Everything has its rules and discipline. The teacher is not as easygoing as your mother-if you're wrong, he'll hit you; if you can't recite your lesson, he'll hit you. Watch out! Study well, grow up to be an official, bring glory to the family, do you hear?"
Tianci dared not disobey; he lowered his head, curled his nose, wanting to cry but not daring, twisting his hands back and forth until his fingers turned white.
Dad was the last hope. Nanny Ji was insignificant. Mother's words were always about the future: about becoming an official when grown up, about after she died. Sihu's words were from the heart, but he hadn't hired the teacher, so of course he didn't know what the teacher was really like. He had to ask Dad; Dad knew.
"What is it, lad? Have a seat!" Dad simply loved hearing the word "Dad," and was so delighted he didn't know what to say.
"I don't know." Old Niu was telling the truth. As he saw it, the bookkeeper at Old Xiangsheng was quite amiable and didn't seem like the type to hit. But if the wife insisted, the "Old Shandong guy" might not hold back. This tall, big-eyed teacher, if he hit, would surely hit hard. He had only thought about the tuition and the gifts, and never considered the issue of beating. He felt a bit sorry toward Tianci. He didn't want his son to be beaten, but he couldn't oppose his wife's way of raising the child. His fault was having no opinion. "We'll have to discuss it," he said apologetically.
Old Niu again felt a bit sorry toward Wang Baozhai. Torn between the two, he thought of a good solution: just be careless. Mother was all about rules and didn't allow others to speak; Dad was careless and muddled through everything. Tianci had lived seven years between a piece of iron and a piece of tofu.
The first day of the eighth month arrived! Tianci was neither afraid nor not afraid; one moment he thought the teacher was a monster, the next he remembered deducting the teacher's wages.
The short mandarin jacket was put on again, waiting to pay respects to the teacher. Tianci was like waiting for thunder after lightning, his face flushing and paling.
Tianci didn't dare to look but wanted to; he lowered his head and glanced from the corner of his eye: the teacher was actually a person, tall and large, too big to take in at one glance!
The teacher didn't seem to pay much attention to Tianci; he only chatted with his parents, his voice loud, the room seemed to buzz. Tianci only heard sounds but couldn't understand what anyone was saying; he felt very flustered, as if all familiar things had suddenly changed, and even the bright red apples on the fruit plate didn't interest him.
Old Mrs. Niu wanted to test the teacher and asked what book to start with. The teacher advocated studying the Three Character Classic, and declared that the Three Character Classic combined with the Four Books made the Five Classics.
Old Niu thought the Five Classics were too deep, but his wife disagreed: "The deeper the better! If you don't pursue depth, how can you become an official!"
All this meant nothing to Tianci; but the next few sentences he understood: "Teacher Wang," Mother's tone was very gentle, "Pushing him in his studies is important, but disciplining him is even more crucial. Just beat him-if you don't beat him, he won't amount to anything!"
Tianci's heart instead settled; he couldn't escape, so he'd wait for the beating. "Damn it!" Just then, he suddenly heard the teacher say, "First, pay respects to the sage!"
Old Mrs. Niu had long prepared the sage tablet, placed on the long altar. In front were incense burner, candlesticks, and five plates of fresh fruit. Old Niu lit tall incense sticks and inserted them into the burner. Old Mrs. Niu pulled Tianci by his short mandarin jacket and pressed him onto the cushion: "Kowtow to the sage, nine times. Make a wish in your heart that he bless you with a good memory and quick mind!"
Tianci watched the incense smoke and candlelight, his heart beating slightly. He knew it was just a wooden tablet, but he couldn't help being respectful. This piece of wood was very different from ordinary wood; it was the sage!
After bowing to the sage, it was time to bow to the teacher. Wang Baozhai was humbly declining, but the old lady insisted he sit and receive the obeisance: "Master, master! The teacher is as great as a father!" Wang Baozhai had nothing to say; he awkwardly received the bow, sweating on his head. Tianci was bewildered; he didn't know whether to cry or laugh, and kept swallowing air.
After the formalities, they inspected the study. Tianci didn't bother to look at anything else; he only looked for the board. There it was on the table! Two inches wide, as long as a tobacco pipe. Teacher Wang picked it up and swung it: "Just right, my friend!" Tianci thought the beating was about to start; his lips turned white, and he hid behind his father. "The teacher is joking, just joking!" Old Niu explained repeatedly. When Tianci saw the teacher put the board down, he forced a laugh, looking like a ghost wrongfully killed.
Mother went to supervise Nanny Ji in cooking; the dishes were ordered from outside-four plates, four bowls, four saucers-some needed steaming, some heating. Nanny Ji was sweating from anxiety because after steaming and heating, she couldn't arrange them to look as nice as before; the old lady had to do it herself.
Old Niu chatted with the teacher in the study, while Tianci, wearing his short mandarin jacket, stood by, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like a drowsy chicken. He didn't understand the conversation, but it sounded familiar-just like Dad's usual chats with guests: shop, market, broker tax, purchasing, thirty percent profit, looking high, letting go... These familiar yet incomprehensible words were mixed in their talk: Could this be a book? he wondered.
Wang Baozhai was very talkative and seemed to hit it off with Dad. Teacher Wang intended to show his skills: he wanted to talk Old Niu into putting up some money to let him open a business; teaching was of no concern to him. Being idle anyway, he first got a place to eat, and would talk later.
"Come on, enough! The lady might come to the front courtyard; if she hears, she'll object!" Sihu urged. "Wipe your tears! Oh, right! The other day we were talking about Huang Tianba throwing darts-who did he hit?"
Tianci remembered Huang Tianba and felt a bit braver. Sihu played with him for a while, then said, "I have to serve the dishes." Tianci didn't insist on him staying, only instructed: "If there are meatballs, bring two for us brothers." Sihu smuggled back a steamed bun and two meatballs. Tianci threw the meatballs into his mouth like darts, eating with exceptional relish.
The next day, lessons began. Tianci simply couldn't remember: ""At the beginning of life, human nature is good"." Teacher Wang stared with big eyes until his lips went numb, but the pupil still couldn't remember. He had no patience to begin with, but to please Old Niu, he really didn't want to quarrel with Tianci. Seeing Tianci looked so pitiful, he thought of chatting idly with him, but feared Mrs. Niu would hear. He hadn't expected teaching to be so hard! No choice, he had to drill mechanically: "People at birth, people at birth, people at birth..." After who knows how many repetitions-perhaps five hundred or five hundred fifty-he slipped: "People at birth, Dog bites pig!"
Tianci stopped asking, but he had Dog bites pig firmly fixed in mind and couldn't correct it. Teacher Wang was sweating; if the old lady heard this, what would that be?!
"Let's practice writing first!" The teacher came up with an idea. Tianci also felt writing was more interesting than reading: brush, ink, red tracing paper-at least there was something to handle. The teacher first showed him how to hold the brush. Tianci exerted great effort, but in the end, gripping it in a fist was most comfortable. Teacher Wang gave up anyway: after all, this wasn't a long-term arrangement; he'd just muddle through, letting him write as he pleased. Tianci grasped the brush with his whole hand, loading it with ink until the belly looked like a well-fed spider. Then, tilting his head, he traced the red outlines with force-every stroke produced a big black blob, another big blob. After tracing a few characters, the ink was used up, so he moistened the tip in his mouth and wiped it with the back of his hand, leaving a beard on both sides of his mouth. He traced two more, but the ink wasn't black enough; feeling a bit displeased, he turned the paper over and started drawing little people, which was more interesting. He drew whoever he disliked, so he drew Mother. He drew a very large head and two tiny little feet. As he drew, he thought: "Hug her bound feet and have a good cry!"
Teacher Wang didn't bother with him at all; he stared at the ceiling, calculating: If Brother Niu could put up three thousand: for the transfer of Daotianli's shop, say two thousand; a thousand or so for goods; fix up the front; even if not enough, it's close; a small shop wouldn't be bad! Teaching was beyond him; a day or two, fooling around with a kid was okay; but full-scale lessons he couldn't handle! He glanced at Tianci: drawing little people! Let him be, draw if he wants, as long as he stays quiet and well-behaved. If he were to take over, he should do it before the August festival; since they needed money, he could get a bargain. Take over before the festival, fix up, register for the shop tax, wait for approval, and by early September he could open, just in time for winter stock. Hmm, he should write to Old Liu Jiu and ask about the wool yarn market. He picked up a brush, poured some water into the inkstone, and rubbed the brush repeatedly until bubbles formed on the stone. Then he spread out paper, rolled up his sleeves. Again he rubbed the brush on the inkstone, mixing and slapping with great flourish. His left hand pressed the paper, he cleared his throat; the brush twirled between his thumb and middle finger several times. The strokes began heavily, thinned in the middle, and ended heavily; as soon as he finished a stroke, he hurriedly rubbed the brush again on the inkstone; he wrote again, the characters large and connected, like a string of little crabs. Tianci watched in fascination. How fast the teacher wrote! He stopped drawing people and imitated the teacher's way of writing, very fast, even faster than the teacher. When the teacher finished a passage, he read it softly; Tianci drew a string of black things and babbled along. This was somewhat interesting.
Until the Mid-Autumn Festival, Tianci hadn't learned much, but his relationship with Teacher Wang wasn't bad. "People at birth" was still Dog bites pig, and he had also learned a lot of Shandong dialect: words like "table leg (with a roll)" and words like "folks," which he spoke quite well. He also imitated Teacher Wang's mannerisms, such as pulling at his sleeves, wiping his forehead with a large cloth, and rolling his eyes when coughing. His writing was still blotchy, but his drawing of people had improved: a face with only a mouth was Nanny Ji, and with only eyes was Teacher Wang. Sometimes, when happy, he might draw the mouth very small-for instance, after Nanny Ji scolded him, he would draw her mouth like a black bean, saying, "See how you'll eat!"
The Mid-Autumn Festival was the first time a festival gift should be given; although he had only taught for half a month, it was a matter of face. Mrs. Niu refused to send one! He had only studied two pages of the book, spent all his time drawing little people, and didn't beat the student-no festival gift! If Teacher Wang wanted to stay, he'd have to think of another plan.