16 Writing Characters

After a stick of incense burned down, Cui Xiu finally broke into a smile, still clutching the brush.

This surprised Marquis Cui En, who promptly summoned Cui Qianting—who had been preparing for the exam alone—to come over and watch Cui Xiu write. After all, this was an event worthy of being recorded in the family genealogy: the first child in the Cui family to take the initiative to learn!

Though Cui Qianting was somewhat disdainful, his eyebrows lifted at the mention of not submitting a blank paper, and he leisurely strolled over.

Cui Xiu, now the center of attention, felt speechless.

He lifted his head to glance at Pei Xuejing, whose eyes brimmed with encouragement; then glanced at his father’s solemn, expectant expression; and finally at his eldest uncle, hands on hips, enjoying the spectacle. He took a slow breath and cautiously recalled the way Cui Cong held the brush.

Confirming that it matched exactly the grip he had learned in his past life, he mimicked it carefully.

Though he wanted to hold the brush perfectly, his small, pudgy paws made it impossible, so he did his best to imitate the posture.

He then solemnly dipped the brush into ink and lowered his head to look at the fine Anhui Shengxuan paper spread out on the desk.

Though the etiquette and customs differed slightly from his past life, the quality of brush, ink, paper, and inkstone remained the same. In the Great Zhou Dynasty, Anhui Shengxuan paper was still considered the finest.

This paper was “as light as cicada wings, as white as snow, fluttering like delicate silk without a sound.” Most importantly, it had excellent absorbency and ink diffusion, creating rich ink textures and controlling ink spread—a favorite among scholars and literati for calligraphy.

In his past life, Cui Xiu only obtained such treasured paper after achieving the top three ranks in the imperial exam; normally he practiced on inexpensive rough paper.

Yet this time, his first brushstroke was on this precious Shengxuan paper. According to his eldest uncle, it would even be mounted and displayed later, brought out to “show off” when Cui Xiu became successful.

Though spoken in jest, the words contained the elders’ hopes.

Thus, Cui Xiu added extra care to his first stroke.

Unexpectedly, the obedient brush in his hand suddenly felt like a glowing iron rod, burning his fingers. His first vertical stroke lacked sharpness and was soft and limp.

Cui Xiu was speechless.

He dared not meet the elders’ gazes, instead repeating silent self-comfort: “Four years old, four years old.” After several rounds of this mental preparation, he changed his approach, pretending to be a four-year-old child.

Four years old, after all—just remembering how to write his name would be good enough!

Brazenly gathering courage, Cui Xiu slowly drew a horizontal stroke, then a vertical one, followed by a gentle falling stroke.

Watching this, Marquis Cui En nudged Cui Qianting and whispered, “This kid might be smarter than you. At four years old, he already recognizes characters and works so hard, even remembering his own name!”

Cui Qianting responded with a grunt, fixing his gaze on Cui Xiu’s painstakingly neat strokes. He sighed slightly. Cui Xiu was instinctively avoiding the taboo of the character “Cui,” missing a stroke, which signified a deep-rooted family tradition.

Perhaps some of his previous speculations were true.

When Cui Xiu finished, he squinted, judging himself: as a four-year-old child, his wrist lacked strength. Even with daily exercise and basic training, his writing was crooked and uneven.

But still—

No, wait!

According to the Cui family’s rebellious ancestral taboo, should he avoid the character “Cui”?

Clenching the brush tightly, Cui Xiu glanced at the incomplete “Cui” in the family’s genealogy, a symbol of their proud scholarly heritage, and dared not look up at the crowd.

Just then, his eyes fell on his own small desk, sparking an idea. He put down the brush and took out a famous calligraphy model from the desk drawer. Carefully, he compared every stroke against what he had written.

Seeing this, Pei Xuejing’s eyes brightened—what a promising young talent!

After confirming the missing stroke, Cui Xiu added it carefully with the brush.

Once finished, he raised his head proudly and announced, “Eldest uncle, father, Master, and my two brothers, look!”

Like presenting a treasure, he held up the Shengxuan paper, nearly pressing it before everyone’s eyes, beaming with confidence: “I… I remember how to write my own name—no strokes missing!”

“So please let me learn to write—at least my name!”

“Hmm, Master, please give your critique,” Pei Xuejing smiled, pointing at the two characters “Cui Xiu” on the paper. “Brother Xiu is indeed very diligent and careful, knowing to check his work. Though the strokes lack strength, the structure is proper. The calligraphy shows the spirit of ‘stone pressing’—”

Cui Xiu feigned ignorance of the term and nodded happily.

“‘Stone pressing’ is how Huang Tingjian described Su Shi’s style—flat and plump.”

“So, from now on, Brother Xiu’s daily lessons will be extended by one incense stick...” Pei Xuejing squeezed Cui Xiu’s chubby little hand, restraining his own desire to see the rising literary star of the Cui family. He spoke solemnly, outlining a plan tailored for Cui Xiu: “Practice tracing characters on sand trays.”

“Sand tray tracing?” Cui Xiu truly did not understand, blinking in confusion.

He knew tracing on red-printed copybooks was the beginner’s method for calligraphy.

“The key to writing lies in the wrist and elbow.”

Before Pei Xuejing finished, Cui Xiu pinched his own elbow through his thick winter clothes, feeling a bit of flesh.

“And the fingers, all must coordinate properly. The strength must be honed just right to produce good characters.” Pei Xuejing, seeing Cui Xiu’s slightly embarrassed face, spoke earnestly: “Brother Xiu is still young and needs to build strength. This year, we’ll practice drawing on sand trays, holding twigs to trace strokes. No need to exert force—just remember the stroke order.”

“Thank you for your teaching, Master,” Cui Xiu bowed gratefully. “I will study hard.”

Beside him, Cui Qianting spoke softly, “Since you still have energy to study, learn to write ‘Long Live Emperor Mingde!’ before the county exam. So you don’t hand in a blank paper, right?”

The room fell silent in surprise.

Marquis Cui En snapped angrily, “Cui Qianting, when did you learn to flatter?”

“Since we have to show we’re studying hard, Cui Xiu must look the part,” Cui Qianting said coldly. “Don’t forget someone once said the emperor himself taught calligraphy stroke by stroke. So if anyone asks, you tell them your eldest uncle is teaching you. Say that when your eldest uncle learned to write, the first character he learned was ‘Min’!”

Cui Xiu was dumbfounded and turned to look at Marquis Cui En.

The emperor personally teaching?

Just how great must that ancestor have been?

Marquis Cui En’s face darkened. “Cui Qianting, no matter how crafty you are, don’t besmirch the emperor’s reputation! The Minister of Works is no fool—I would never personally teach Cui Xiu calligraphy.”

“Say that again?” Cui Qianting challenged, stepping closer.

Marquis Cui En dodged behind Cui Xiu, whispering, “Emperor Mingde is extraordinarily intelligent; he would surely notice.”

Cui Xiu felt struck by lightning.

Marquis Cui En had just spoken the emperor’s personal name aloud!

If they were to worry about taboos and fear, the Cui family might as well be wiped out!

Cui Qianting lowered his gaze, looking at Cui Xiu with a raised brow, understanding dawning.

No need to consider Lady Liu’s family traditions anymore; Cui Xiu was undoubtedly a little scholar now.

And he knew about taboos!

Since he was here, he was after all a son of the Cui family.

With certainty, Cui Qianting slowly turned his gaze to Cui Hu. “You’re a good brother, aren’t you?”

Cui Hu’s scalp tingled, and he stammered, “Second… Second uncle, I can write, but… I’m not really good at teaching…”

“No matter, your younger brother can write and studies hard—all thanks to you as a good big brother,” Cui Qianting said decisively. “If you can’t marry into the royal family, I’ll cripple your father and let you inherit the title. The ranks will be reduced step by step, changing the duke’s plaque to a marquis’s, maybe cutting the risk of a family purge in half!”

Cui Hu gasped and hurriedly stopped his furious father, eagerly adding, “Yes, yes, my younger brother’s eagerness to learn is all from me! I love studying, and at the county exam, I must perform well in front of the relatives!”

Cui Xiu’s eyes lit up.

Of course, it didn’t matter if Cui Hu wasn’t studious. As long as he had a reputation for accepting an excellent cousin, he would gain much goodwill!

So, in two years, Cui Xiu could take the exams confidently. The better he did, the more “magnanimous” Cui Hu would appear, making it easier for him to marry a princess!

Marrying a princess meant safety.

At least three generations of safety.

No more fear of family purges or exile!