The Transmigrated Li Jin's Daily Farming Life (Translated With Mtl)

Chapter 112

Li Jin could still detect the lingering scent of alcohol on himself, but his little Fulang had already closed his eyes, so Li Jin reached over to extinguish the oil lamp. He then returned to the quilt and adjusted a comfortable position for his dear Fulang.

That night, Qin Muwen had been holding Li Jin's hand, expressing his affection and dependence on Li Jin with every gesture.

Since then, Li Jin declined the banquets he could avoid and tried to drink less at those he couldn't. In short, he made sure not to return home reeking of alcohol.

In late September, the results of the township test were announced, and as expected, Lu Changdong's name was not on the list. Even though he had anticipated this outcome, the moment the results were released, he couldn't help but feel deeply disappointed.

However, when he considered that there were over 3,000 candidates (xiucai) from their province who participated in the autumn examination, with only 135 of them being accepted, he realized that the chances of success were indeed slim. Combined with Lu Changdong's bad luck and unstable mindset during the exam, it was reasonable for him not to be admitted.

For this reason, the students of Class A who didn't participate in the imperial examination spontaneously organized a trip to the countryside to enjoy the chrysanthemum blooms.

Li Jin noticed the beautiful chrysanthemums and bought a few pots to take home.

The next day, when he went to the school, Li Jin gave one pot to Old Pang, leaving the rest at home for his dear Fulang and little baozi.

Old Pang, watching his student come early in the morning to give him flowers, was delighted.

Afterward, Li Jin went to the lecture hall, and Old Pang thought he should reciprocate the gesture. However, apart from calligraphy and paintings, he had nothing else to offer. Yet, it wasn't the right time to give Li Jin calligraphy or paintings.

Old Pang felt somewhat embarrassed about what he should do.

He drank tea in the outer hall for a while, then put on wooden clogs and rolled up his trousers before heading out to fish out the stone he had recently placed in the water.

These stones had settled at the bottom of the pool and absorbed a considerable amount of ink residue, gradually making the pool water clear.

Old Pang had initially prepared six boxes of stones, intending to have Li Jin finish them all before announcing to others that he had taken him as his disciple. Although Li Jin hadn't finished even the fourth box of stones yet, his foundation was solid, and he had reached the required level.

In other words, what an ordinary person could achieve after six practices, Li Jin had achieved after less than four. Old Pang fished out these partially darkened stones, furrowed his brows in thought for a while, and then returned them to the pool.

He could sense that, although Li Jin had reached a high level in calligraphy, he still had great potential. If he persevered in practicing with these stones, he might uncover something deep within himself and develop a distinctive personal style of writing.

With this in mind, Old Pang decided to let Li Jin continue practicing, as he didn't want to waste Li Jin's talent in calligraphy.

That evening, when Li Jin returned home, it was still daylight. In the inner courtyard, a large and a small figure squatted beside several pots of chrysanthemums, counting their leaves to see how many there were.

Counting the petals, especially for the little baozi at his current age, was nearly an impossible task.

Li Jin put down his book basket, washed his hands, and then picked up the little baozi, cradling him in his arms.