6 Enlightenment

Page 1/3

Even the rebellious Cui Xiu did not want to speak. Of course, he didn’t get the chance to, because Cui Qianting directly grabbed him and handed him over to Madame Yu, saying only, “Teach him according to Marquis Cui En’s methods,” before leaving. The speed was so swift, it was as if Cui Qianting himself was being chased by a dog, Cui Xiu grumbled inwardly.

Madame Yu looked at the drenched Cui Xiu and quickly ordered preparations for a medicinal bath, then summoned the imperial physician Xiao Wang for inspection. Only after confirming there were no illnesses or injuries did she begin preparing the materials needed for his education. “That’s right, Xiu is already three years old; it’s time to learn literature and martial arts! Mingyue, go fetch the swords, spears, and halberds, and set up a little study room for Xiu.”

Seeing this, Cui Xiu slowly exhaled. Regardless of what the stories said, seeing Madame Yu’s joyful expression, it seemed the National Duke’s residence could indeed accommodate the ambitions of a concubine’s son.

So, Cui Xiu silently reviewed in his mind the Three Character Classic, Hundred Family Surnames, and Thousand Character Classic. These three books were common for early childhood education. As a family with a long tradition of imperial examinations, the Cui family’s sons would also study the Thousand Family Poems after these.

The Thousand Family Poems was a collection of metrical poems carefully selected by literati families, compiled from famous works of the Tang and Song dynasties. Its themes were diverse—pastoral landscapes, objects and paintings, farewells to friends, banquet songs, and more—all with excellent rhythm, making them easy and pleasant to recite.

Without reading this book, a family could hardly claim true scholarly heritage.

He wondered if this storybook world had such a poetry collection.

Just as he pondered, Madame Yu herself came in carrying a thick stack of books. Cui Xiu’s eyes lit up, and he lifted his head, feigning innocence: “Madame, are these books?”

“Of course,” Madame Yu placed the books on the desk, bent down to lift Cui Xiu, and pointed to three characters on the cover with pride, slowly saying, “Xiu, look, this is The Seven Star Generals!”

She emphasized the title and pointed downward, “The most imposing general at the top left corner of the cover is your great-grandfather, the founding duke of our Rong residence!”

Cui Xiu followed Madame Yu's finger to the book jacket.

The cover depicted seven burly men in armor, holding weapons, glaring fiercely. Without careful inspection, it was impossible to tell who was who—just typical martial generals. But following Madame Yu’s indication, Cui Xiu looked carefully again and managed to recognize his great-grandfather.

Great-grandfather had straight eyebrows, sat on a tiger-skin throne with a domineering aura, his forehead wrinkles forming a “king” character. But his broad forehead added a fierce air to this “king.”

“Great-grandfather,” Cui Xiu obediently called out.

“Xiu is truly filial,” Madame Yu said gently. “For now, we’ll have you listen to the storyteller’s tales despite the hardship. In a month, when the mourning period officially ends, we’ll take you to the main courtyard stage, and the family’s opera troupe will perform the founding ancestors’ great deeds from start to finish.”

At her words, Cui Xiu glanced sideways at the other servants, noticing their agreement with Madame Yu’s plan. Though doubting, he cautiously spoke up, “But… but Xiu can’t play; father said I must study first.”

“Study? I’ve heard of that—reading books!” Cui Xiu repeated with effort, slowing his tone and adding a hint of coaxing.

Madame Yu found this serious yet soft-spoken attitude endearing. Her eyes grew tender as she said words she’d long remembered: “Yes, to begin education, one must first understand the origins of their own family, to know where their roots lie.”

Page 2/3

As she spoke, Madame Yu took Cui Xiu’s calloused hand and pointed once more at the three characters of The Seven Star Generals on the cover: “Though this is a storybook, it was approved by the great-grandfather and written by the official historian responsible for recording the deeds of scholars.”

Cui Xiu was momentarily stunned. The characters beneath his fingertips felt weighty, as if carrying an indescribable gravity.

“Compared to all those stuffy classical texts, this historian’s writing is vivid, using metaphors and colloquialisms that the old masters appreciated. Those founding generals loved it. Most martial descendants read this book first,” Madame Yu explained, recalling fondly as if smoothing away the wrinkles time had left on her face, “In fact, this book is far more practical than the Three Character Classic. That book has all sorts of tales, like the story of Xiang Jiuling warming the bed. Back then, without a proper tutor, I almost made a ridiculous mistake trying to arrange a bed warmer for your grandfather.”

Hearing this, Cui Xiu felt a wave of lightheartedness wash over him, dispelling the heavy thoughts the word “roots” had stirred about family heritage and cultural inheritance.

Now, his mind brimmed with confusion—Xiang Jiuling warming the bed, was that really so hard to understand? Wasn’t the early education period supposed to be about rote memorization, reciting the entire text until it was second nature?

It seemed the martial tradition had its own unique approach to early education, distinct from that of civil officials.

Pondering this, Cui Xiu nodded cautiously. “Madame, I understand. I will study this book diligently.”

Madame Yu smiled, “Yes, diligently.”

“Someone, bring the young master some milk and fruit snacks. It’s late today, so let the storyteller tell just one chapter.”

The maid answered promptly.

The fruit platter soon covered the entire desk, leaving no room for the books Madame Yu had brought.

Seeing this, Cui Xiu quickly and carefully picked up the thick volume of The Seven Star Generals, his face tense with solemnity: “Books must be protected and read carefully.”

Madame Yu’s smile deepened at his cherishing manner, and she pointed toward the door, “Now, our young master will listen to the storyteller.”

Cui Xiu nodded. Before he could feign the naive three-year-old’s response, the storyteller struck the wooden clapper loudly, then began with great enthusiasm, “At the end of the previous dynasty, treacherous eunuchs ruled, persecuting the loyal and virtuous, causing the people to suffer greatly! Young master, do you know what it means when the people suffer so much?”

Cui Xiu looked at the storyteller setting up at the door and shook his head cautiously.

The storyteller skillfully explained, “It means there’s no food to eat, their stomachs growling with hunger. Everyone is starving, suffering terribly. But the villains still force the people to build beautiful houses for them while going hungry, and they seize the people’s beautiful daughters. Someone as handsome as you could be taken away, never to see your parents again!”

Hearing such a straightforward yet instructive explanation, Cui Xiu sat tensely, tugging on Madame Yu’s sleeve with a hint of tears, “So bad!”

Seeing the young master’s nervous demeanor, the storyteller struck the clapper again and solemnly summarized, “This is called families torn apart, people suffering. It’s also known as the people rising against tyranny!”

Cui Xiu looked enlightened. “Then… then can I see my parents again?”

“Of course, you can. Our Heavenly Father watches over us! As the saying goes, the Emperor above and the Earth below hear the people’s suffering and sent your great-grandfather down to enlighten us…”

Cui Xiu understood.

Though he hadn’t formally studied history before, he had read enough to know that founding emperors often bore miraculous signs. He hadn’t expected that in his dynasty’s founding, seven war heroes—the Seven Star Generals—also had divine intervention, descending as the Big Dipper to assist the sage ruler, unlike some dynasties where heroes were discarded once their usefulness ended.

With respect growing, Cui Xiu paid closer attention to the stories. Of course, with his education underway, his schedule was quite full and strictly arranged:

At the third quarter of the first double-hour, he rose and walked the courtyard with the dog for fifteen minutes, then ate.

At the fourth double-hour, he listened to stories and then played cuju (an ancient ball game).

At noon, he rested.

At the sixth double-hour, after waking, he walked again for fifteen minutes and then practiced swimming.

At the seventh double-hour, he listened to stories.

At the eighth double-hour, he ate and took a hundred-step walk after the meal.

At the ninth double-hour, he took a medicinal bath and then went to sleep.

If he couldn’t sleep, he could summon the storyteller again.

Also, the storyteller was not allowed to cross the threshold into his private quarters, meaning Cui Xiu remained in mourning and refrained from play.

These arrangements balanced work and rest well, were orderly and thoughtful. Apart from silently speculating on the martial family’s educational methods, Cui Xiu obediently followed them.

Listening to stories was easy; he even took advantage of the light schedule to secretly read through the entire The Seven Star Generals, becoming well acquainted with the Cui family and the other six dukes’ backgrounds. Yet, surprisingly, he still hadn’t learned to swim.

As the weather grew cooler day by day—not like the warm pool waters of summer suitable for young children—Madame Yu and the household soldiers in charge of teaching discussed reducing practice time.

Cui Xiu felt somewhat anxious.

The more anxious he became, the more his legs, which ought to be as agile as a fish’s tail, felt like lead weights, sinking straight to the pool’s bottom whenever he touched the water.

“Xiu, rest now,” Madame Yu looked at him with concern as he stubbornly tried to plunge into the pool, “We’ll take it slow, no rush. Even if you can’t learn, it’s okay. Just remember not to play in the water alone, away from the servants.”

Strangely, other young masters quickly learned the basic dog paddle after just a few splashes like dumplings dropping into water, and then moved on to other swimming techniques. But Xiu practiced earnestly every day for a full forty-five minutes, yet couldn't dog paddle even ten feet.

Watching the dog happily dog paddling in the pool, Cui Xiu’s eyes were full of envy: “Madame, let me try again. I want to learn to dog paddle!”

After all, Cui Xiu was a child prodigy; he couldn’t be outdone by a dog.

Page 3/3