Fifteen Months' Salary

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Fang Qin did not expect him to refuse; when Zhao Baozhu would not take the cloth bag, he frowned and asked, “What are you doing?”

Zhao Baozhu’s face was full of anxiety, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. He forcefully pushed the cloth bag toward Fang Qin’s chest. “I really can’t accept this!”

Seeing his pale and troubled expression, Fang Qin was somewhat surprised that he truly did not want to take it. Yet if he returned the silver coins intact, Ye Jinghua would surely fine him three months’ wages. Thinking this over, Fang Qin bent down and placed the bag back into Zhao Baozhu’s hands, gently advising,

“You don’t need to be afraid. Everyone serving in this main courtyard has the same. What you have, others have as well. The young master only gave you a little extra because you’re new to the city and unfamiliar with things. Just keep it.”

He paused, then added, “Although you came from outside, you’re now part of this household. The young master won’t treat you unfairly. If you return this silver, wouldn’t that embarrass him?”

After this long speech, Zhao Baozhu still refused stubbornly. “This... this won’t do... How can I accept it? I can’t!”

Seeing his obstinance, Fang Qin had no choice but to raise his eyebrows sternly and put on a serious face to intimidate him.

“How dare you not take it? If you don’t, I’ll report back to Steward Li and tell him not to give you any food tomorrow.”

Zhao Baozhu’s greatest fear was going hungry. Hearing this, he froze instantly. His cat-like eyes grew misty with anxiety as he stared blankly at Fang Qin.

Fang Qin’s heart softened at the sight. He raised a hand to gently touch Zhao Baozhu’s fair cheek. “Be good, work hard, then this money won’t be taken in vain.”

With that, he placed the cloth bag into Zhao Baozhu’s hands once more, closed his fingers around it, then turned and walked out. At the door, he glanced back and said, “I’ll have someone bring you a thicker quilt later. Change your clothes and get some rest.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching the money bag, Zhao Baozhu remained dazed as he watched Fang Qin turn away and close the door.

·

The next morning, Zhao Baozhu arrived early to report to Ye Jinghua. At that moment, Ye Jinghua had just risen, wearing a light blue thin robe, sitting by the table attended by maidservants having breakfast. The early spring weather was still chilly; a brazier burned inside, and a pot of tea warmed on the lattice shelf, its delicate fragrance drifting throughout the room.

Zhao Baozhu stood behind Steward Li, his face pale with slight dark circles beneath his eyes. He had lain awake all night turning over the ten taels of silver in his mind, unable to sleep.

Ye Jinghua was sipping tea and caught sight of Zhao Baozhu’s expression. He gently frowned and set down his cup.

“Baozhu.”

Zhao Baozhu remained lost in thought, not hearing him. When Ye Jinghua got no response, his frown deepened. Fang Qin, standing nearby, quickly nudged Zhao Baozhu from behind.

“Baozhu! The young master is calling you.”

Only then did Zhao Baozhu snap out of it and hurried forward, quietly greeting, “Young master.”

Ye Jinghua leaned back in his chair, lifting his bright eyes to survey him. “What’s wrong? You look so ill.”

Standing before him, Zhao Baozhu saw Ye Jinghua’s graceful bearing and remembered the bag of silver. He wanted to return the money but glanced around to see the room full of maidservants and worried that refusing in public would embarrass Ye Jinghua, so he kept silent.

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Steward Li approached, scrutinizing Zhao Baozhu’s pale face. “Oh, you really do look unwell. Has the cold been getting to you at night these past few days?”

Hearing this, Ye Jinghua’s brow furrowed more deeply. He reached out naturally to touch Zhao Baozhu’s forehead. “Are you feeling chilled?”

Zhao Baozhu was startled and blushed, quickly responding, “No, Brother Qin had someone add a quilt for me yesterday. I’m not cold at all.”

Ye Jinghua relaxed his brow, seeing that it didn’t seem like an illness. “That’s good.” He did not press further.

After breakfast, the maidservants swiftly cleared the dishes and floated out like a breeze. Ye Jinghua stood from the table and said to Zhao Baozhu, “Baozhu, come with me.” Saying this, he turned and headed toward the study.

Zhao Baozhu responded and followed him inside. There, Ye Jinghua sat behind the desk, idly playing with a qilin-shaped paperweight. He looked up at Zhao Baozhu.

“Speak,” he said softly. “You were hesitant earlier because of others, but why do you look so unwell?”

Zhao Baozhu had not expected him to notice and was momentarily stunned. Looking into Ye Jinghua’s eyes, clear as glass, calm and composed, there was an unspoken certainty that made it impossible to refuse answering.

He pursed his lips, stepped forward, and took out the small cloth bag hidden in his sleeve. “Young master, please take the money back.”

Ye Jinghua glanced down at the bag, his expression relaxing. He looked up with a slight smile. “All for this?”

Zhao Baozhu made a bitter face and pleaded, “This is no small matter. It’s a large sum of money. I feel unsettled holding it. I tossed and turned all night.”

Seeing him with drooping eyes and a downcast look, Ye Jinghua’s smile deepened. He said quietly, “Why feel uneasy? You work here for me; shouldn’t I pay you?”

Zhao Baozhu widened his eyes. “But I haven’t really done much. I just fed the chickens and ducks, swept the courtyard. The work is very light. Yesterday, I even used a whole stack of paper and half a block of fine ink. How is that working?”

Ye Jinghua glanced at him, then pushed the cloth bag back with the back of his hand. “Keep it.” He reached under the table and lifted a writing inkstone, tilting Zhao Baozhu’s chin gently. “Grind some ink for me. I’ll write a couple of characters.”

Seeing Ye Jinghua’s refusal to let it go, Zhao Baozhu took the bag and put it away. He took the inkstone and began grinding ink. Watching Ye Jinghua’s jade-like profile, he thought that if necessary, he would keep the money for now and repay it when the name card was found.

Ye Jinghua stood at the desk, his brush poised over xuan paper. Before he began to write, Zhao Baozhu silently admired how elegant and otherworldly his posture was. When most of the piece was done, Ye Jinghua looked up, revealing it was a preface for a travelogue.

Curious, Zhao Baozhu asked, “Young master, did someone ask you to write a preface?”

Ye Jinghua lowered his eyes. “A friend went on a tour and wrote a travelogue.” Then he glanced at the inkstone. “There’s enough ink. If you’re interested, take a look. It’s the second book from the left in the third column on the right.”

Zhao Baozhu paused his movement and looked down. Indeed, the ink was sufficient. Having just taken the money, he felt uneasy doing nothing, so he lingered, reluctant to leave.

Ye Jinghua noticed and turned his head to look at him, guessing what was on his mind. “If you don’t want to read that, then bring down the ‘Great Learning’ and write a commentary.”

Startled, Zhao Baozhu felt embarrassed. “Oh... it’s not right to waste your paper and ink to teach me.”

Ye Jinghua met his gaze and continued writing the preface. “Not just to teach you. Ye Miao and Ye Ning are just beginning their studies. If you write well, you can show it to them.”

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Understanding this, Zhao Baozhu was happy to help Ye Jinghua. He went to the bookshelf, took down the ‘Great Learning,’ and sat at the small desk to write.

Ye Jinghua’s copy of the ‘Great Learning’ was far better than Zhao Baozhu’s, which was nearly falling apart. This one was almost new, with clear ink and no stains. Zhao Baozhu eagerly opened it, chose a passage to copy, and added his own interpretation below.

Once he started reading, he no longer noticed the sounds around him, not even when Ye Jinghua finished the preface, sealed it, and had it sent off. Ye Jinghua quietly moved behind him, silently watching as he wrote.

When Zhao Baozhu finished the last stroke and prepared to check for mistakes, Ye Jinghua spoke, “The character ‘燦’ in the third column from the right is wrong.”

Startled, Zhao Baozhu nearly jumped out of his seat. Turning to see Ye Jinghua, he scolded, “Young master, you scared me again.”

Last time it had been accidental; this time, Zhao Baozhu knew Ye Jinghua had deliberately stepped softly behind him.

Ye Jinghua lowered his eyes, his gaze resting on Zhao Baozhu’s wide, cat-like eyes, silently smiling, acknowledging the joke. He came closer and pointed at the incorrect character on the paper. “Hurry and fix it.”

Zhao Baozhu’s attention was drawn immediately. Following Ye Jinghua’s finger, he saw the extra dot and quickly crossed it out. After correcting it, he lifted the paper and gently blew on the fresh ink. “Young master, please see if it’s good.”

Ye Jinghua nodded, took the paper, and read quickly, his brow twitching ever so slightly. In fact, he had already read most of it while standing behind. After a moment, he looked up at Zhao Baozhu. “Well written.”

Receiving praise, Zhao Baozhu’s lips curled slightly. He was confident in his learning. Though he might not match others in poetry or verse, the Four Books and Five Classics were ingrained in his memory after years of study. For a long time, these books had been his only companions.

Unexpectedly, Ye Jinghua said, “Your commentary is good, but ‘good’ is also limiting you.” He placed the paper on the desk, took a brush, dipped it in vermilion ink, and wrote several lines over Zhao Baozhu’s notes. “Your commentary here is not wrong, but it’s not the whole meaning. If you change the perspective, it can be explained this way—”

Ye Jinghua’s voice was gentle as he carefully wrote hundreds of tiny characters. Zhao Baozhu read them all, his eyes growing brighter. Ye Jinghua marked several places and set down the brush, turning to ask, “These places can have other interpretations, but you must understand the meaning well when quoting. Any questions?”

Zhao Baozhu was utterly focused, his eyes almost glued to the paper. Hearing this, he looked up excitedly and said, “Young master, you are amazing!”

Ye Jinghua met his sparkling eyes and was momentarily stunned. His expression softened further. Zhao Baozhu held the paper like a treasure, murmuring, “I never knew you had such learning. I was truly blind before! Compared to you, those instructors at the county school are as dull as elm wood.”

Hearing this, Ye Jinghua’s brow lifted slightly. “Instructors? Have you attended classes at the county school?”

The county school was usually established by the county magistrate, and only those who passed the preliminary exam could enroll. Zhao Baozhu, immersed in his joy, didn’t catch the hidden doubt in Ye Jinghua’s voice and replied casually, “I only secretly listened to a few lessons. The instructors were very old-fashioned, so I stopped.”

After passing the preliminary exam to become a scholar, he had received an invitation from the county, but the expenses were too high—tutoring fees aside, living costs were unavoidable. Moreover, he had to help with farm work at home and had no free time.

On the other side, Ye Jinghua’s tightened brow relaxed a bit at this.

Zhao Baozhu read Ye Jinghua’s vermilion annotations three times and found the explanations exquisite—just a few words carrying great weight. Feeling his knowledge improve, he sighed with admiration and, kindling his desire for learning, looked up at Ye Jinghua and begged,

“Good young master, not only this passage—could you teach me the rest as well?”