Xia Chen’s seedlings sprouted just as it was time for him to start school. His father took him and Nan’er to the county town in advance to buy brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones.

Although Xia Chen had been there before with his mother to visit his maternal grandmother’s family, and had even floated around as a drifting soul, the small town appeared rather dilapidated. While it had more shops and grey-brick tiled houses than the village, only the main road was paved with stone slabs; the rest were mud roads.

The county town was slightly better. It had a few two- or three-story buildings, and most roads were paved with stone. However, it still didn’t match Xia Chen’s imagined prosperity. He knew there was no need to rush—once he reached the capital, he would witness the true splendor of this era.

On their first day at the school, Father Xia drove an ox cart carrying not only Xia Chen and Nan’er’s book chests but also their hefty tuition fees. After living in this era, Xia Chen fully understood the strong purchasing power of silver and why scholars were so rare—education was simply unaffordable.

For two elementary students just starting their education, the monthly tuition was 500 wen per person. Even the cheapest paper cost several dozen wen per sheet. Sending them to school, regardless of their potential achievements, had already cost the family several taels of silver, an amount an ordinary peasant family might not save in a year.

However, in ancient times, studying was an extremely high-return investment as long as one could achieve results. Passing the civil service examinations meant state support and a monthly grain ration. Even without taking further exams, simply opening a private school and teaching could provide a comfortable life through tuition fees alone.

Scholar Meng’s home was an elegant small courtyard with two rows of rooms. His family lived in the inner courtyard, while the largest room in the outer courtyard served as the schoolroom. Regrettably, Xia Chen had no female classmates, only a young, boisterous junior also studying under Scholar Meng.

After confirming the two children had no intellectual issues, Scholar Meng accepted them as students. With Xia Chen and Nan’er, plus little Meng Mingjun and two others, there were only five students in total. Since the other three were already a few months into their studies, Scholar Meng taught them separately, assigning tasks to one group while instructing the other.

Nan’er, pressured by his father to farm for a few days, had cried and regretted his decision, begging to go to school. After all, he would be beaten even if he didn’t study, and he had already experienced the hardships of farming. Perhaps the teacher’s beatings would be lighter than his father’s.

The poor child went to school as if going to war, trembling and prepared to be hit. However, the teacher’s temper was unexpectedly good, and after being timid for half a day, Nan’er regained his usual liveliness.

At lunch, they ate the food they brought from home. In the lingering chill of early spring, meals consisted only of steamed buns and the like without soup. A boiled egg was considered an extra meal.

Scholar Meng had the old woman in his home boil hot water and distribute it to the students. Xia Chen struggled with his wobbly baby teeth against the hard steamed bun while secretly thinking of ways to improve their meals.

Thus began Xia Chen and Nan’er’s elementary school life. Scholar Meng was a man of considerable learning. Xia Chen could tell this from his daily manners and speech and guessed that their teacher must have come from a prestigious family, settling in their remote small town for an unknown reason.

Regardless of the reason, it was good for Xia Chen. Scholar Meng had excellent knowledge and broad experience. Perhaps because Xia Chen had some existing foundation, his self-control and responsiveness exceeded that of ordinary children. As one of the teacher’s first batch of students, Scholar Meng valued him. Xia Chen’s learning progress quickly surpassed Nan’er’s and left the other two classmates far behind.

Because Scholar Meng seemed to particularly favor him, after asking if he intended to take the imperial examinations, he changed Xia Chen’s name back to his original name.

In Scholar Meng’s words, there were always some pedantic literati who advocated that scholars should view money as dirt and not love wealth. If Xia Chen encountered such an examiner during the exams, just his name alone would cause him some unnecessary trouble.

Both Father Xia and Mother Xia accepted this well. The teacher was a scholar, so how could the name he chose be bad? They decided “Yuan Bao” could be a nickname at home.

Xia Chen absorbed external knowledge like a sponge. He diligently asked questions, and Scholar Meng was happy to explain. He didn’t particularly enjoy memorizing those articles, but since he had already come to this world, he wanted to understand it better. He wanted to see the prosperous capital Scholar Meng had described and he wanted to create a better life for his parents and family.

Xia Chen couldn’t pinpoint exactly which period of ancient Chinese history he had arrived in. While Scholar Meng mentioned vaguely familiar deity names from distant myths, other famous historical figures were unknown to Xia Chen.

It seemed like a wholly fictional era, yet there were striking similarities. A Han dynasty had existed here, and the people proudly called themselves descendants of the Han. Two great rivers nurtured life on the land, and the imperial examination system, along with the Eight-Legged Essay, had been in place for centuries.

Like in his own history, the Central Plains were surrounded by various forces in a mix of alliances and rivalries. However, no foreign ethnic group had successfully invaded and dominated the Central Plains, and a princess had never been married off for the sake of peace. Whether it was the previous dynasty or the current flourishing Da’an Dynasty, the descendants of the Han lived proudly. They held a fiery spirit and never bowed to invaders.

Xia Chen particularly enjoyed listening to Scholar Meng’s stories about ancient times, customs, and the complexities of human nature.

However, Scholar Meng quickly realized his student’s interests strayed beyond the curriculum, so he used these stories as rewards for exceptionally well-completed homework. In an era lacking entertainment, this bit of storytelling became a potent motivation for Xia Chen to study hard every day.

Initially tasked with tending seedlings, Xia Chen found that his father cared for them far better than he did. He decisively entrusted the seedlings to his father, occasionally checking in on their progress.

In the blink of an eye, a month passed. Xia Chen went to inspect his seedlings and found they had matured and were ready for transplanting.

He had told his father early on to set aside a small piece of rice paddy as an experimental field. Since he didn’t need much land, Father Xia, doting on his son, readily agreed.

Pulling along his father, big brother, and two nephews who wanted to watch the excitement, Xia Chen rolled up his pant legs and began demonstrating rice transplanting. He followed the guidance of Xia Tongban in his mind.

The Xia family members watched as if it were a spectacle. Xia Chen was not cut out for farm work. Even with Xia Tongban’s guidance, the seedlings he transplanted were crooked, sparse in some places and dense in others.

Having seen enough, Father Xia chuckled, rolled up his own pant legs, and jumped into the field to help Xia Chen. His elder brother and the two children joined in as well, mimicking their elders surprisingly well. Their work looked far neater than Xia Chen’s initial attempts.

“It’s not difficult. Little Uncle, let me help you transplant the ones in your hands too,” Nan’er, often overshadowed by his little uncle in studies, seized this rare chance to show off and sounded a bit smug.

Xia Chen stood there, seedlings in hand, stunned and unmoving. Only when he heard Nan’er’s words did he react abruptly. He shoved the seedlings into Nan’er’s hands, climbed up the field ridge, and tossed back, “I’m going to wash my feet!” Then, he turned and ran towards home.

Just a moment ago, as his father transplanted the second seedling, a notification sounded in Xia Chen’s mind—the task was complete!

What other task could it be but the rice breeding? Xia Chen’s excitement nearly overwhelmed him; he almost lost his composure in public.

He had originally expected that even if the breeding succeeded, he’d have to wait until the harvest to complete the task. He never imagined the act of transplanting alone would trigger completion.

As Xia Chen ran back, he spoke to Xia Tongban, “Tongban, how exactly is the task completion calculated?”

[According to the system’s analysis, if the rice seedlings that host had cultivated are planted and cared for following standard practices, they should achieve the task requirements upon harvest. This confirms task completion.]

Xia Chen thought for a moment and suddenly understood. This was also a way to protect his interests. For tasks with time limits and long breeding periods, if he successfully cultivated the seeds but some natural disaster ruined the harvest, wouldn’t all his effort be wasted?

Therefore, the system automatically detected his cultivation progress based on the current environment’s planting technology. If his rice could reach a yield of 400 kg per mu, the task would be considered complete.

“Tongban, you’re really a good system. I love you to death!” Overjoyed with the good news, Xia Chen showered the system with compliments.

Xia Tongban was unmoved: [Just yesterday, you were cursing me for being stingy, petty, and swindling people…]

“Stop, stop, stop. That was then, this is now. Bringing this up hurts our rapport.” Xia Chen hastily interrupted. He ran back to the house, washed his hands and feet, and gradually calmed down. Reflecting on his earlier outburst, he hesitated to enter the space right away.

Sure enough, Father Xia and the others soon returned. Seeing him sitting in the courtyard drinking water as if nothing had happened, they finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Dad, please help me take good care of my little seedlings. Just raise them the same way as the other rice seedlings, okay?” Xia Chen seized the opportunity to make his request.

He had realized that everyone had their own strengths. Right now, he was only good at planting fake fields in the system space. This kind of real work still had to rely on his father.

Father Xia always indulged his youngest son, and readily agreed to Xia Chen’s request. This earned him a sweet “Dad’s the best, I love Dad the most!” in return.

Dong’er and his younger brother exchanged grimaces. Seeing their usually stern-faced grandfather smiling so brightly, they realized how easy he was to coax. Only their little uncle had this skill. They simply couldn’t bring themselves to say those words.

Having coaxed his old father, Xia Chen found an excuse to return to his room and eagerly entered the space.

“Reward, reward, my reward!” he shouted excitedly the moment he entered.

[Random task completion percentage: 100%. Time used: less than one-fifth. Calculating additional rewards… Calculation complete. Please claim your rewards.]

“There’s even such a good thing?!” Xia Chen was nearly knocked out by the sudden, pleasant surprise. Fortunately, he hadn’t delayed too long; otherwise, he might not have been able to get this additional reward.

[Hard work always pays off, diligence leads to harvest…]

Xia Chen nodded along, treating Xia Tongban’s outdated wisdom as background noise while he focused on his rewards.

He opened the small brocade pouch with practiced ease. Shiny gold ingots were stacked neatly, skill books glowed faintly on the side, and a dozen gems were scattered nearby.

None of these could hold Xia Chen’s attention. His eyes were fixed on the experience bar, watching as it soared after he opened the pouch. From the level 8 he had painstakingly reached in over a month, it jumped directly to level 9. The momentum didn’t stop there, once again filling the experience bar.

Author’s Note:

Finally reached level 10! Ah ah ah ah, I can finally release my brain hole.

🌻🌻🌻

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