“Young sir, if you’re interested in this small venture at the Academy, I could assist.”
“I can promote it to classmates and register those willing to buy dinner at your stall, providing you a count in advance. You won’t have to shout for scattered customers—you’ll know how much to prepare.”
Shu Rui was surprised. Normally, scholars looked down on merchants; few would stoop to such business dealings.
In recent years, the imperial government had reformed the examination system. Ordinary scholars were no longer as privileged.
Shu Rui recalled that, early in the Great Yu Dynasty, the emperor had encouraged talented scholars to take the civil service exams. Local exams could select hundreds of candidates, rewarding even those passing minor levels with money, land, and stipends. Successive higher exams brought even greater rewards.
The generous policies led many to pursue study, changing their lives.
But within decades, the system caused excessive bureaucracy: small tasks were handled by multiple officials, efficiency fell, and corruption rose.
The state, burdened with officials and aspiring scholars, faced financial strain.
With a new emperor, civil service reform followed. Idle or incompetent officials were removed; immoral scholars lost their status. Salaries and rewards for lower-level scholars were reduced.
Newly appointed successful graduates had to undergo internships in various offices, evaluated annually, before assuming official positions.
Under the new policies, the government’s problem of excessive and redundant officials had eased somewhat.
Yet under such strict administration, even highly successful jinshi graduates could spend five or six years without an official post, receiving only a meager stipend. Supporting a family—or even maintaining a respectable life alone—was difficult.
If the government was in such straits, the lower-ranking scholars and examinees were far worse off. With no clear prospects and little comfort, many began to feel that studying was useless. Folk superstitions and unorthodox practices spread, and fewer people pursued scholarly paths.
A decade ago, a new emperor ascended the throne. He believed that the education of the realm required literate and learned citizens, so he adjusted the civil examinations once more.
The court restored privileges for officials and scholars, even surpassing those offered at the time the realm was first pacified. Rewards for passing exams—cash, land, and property—remained substantial.
However, with the greater rewards came much harder exams. The success rate fell to less than half of what it had been before.
The court still encouraged study and moral cultivation, but only a select few truly attained distinction and official rank.
As a result, the present era saw many scholars, but very few who truly excelled and earned honors. Private academies and schools were everywhere, but most students ended up exhausting their families’ resources without any tangible achievement. Those who left to seek modest work—managing accounts, running small shops, or writing letters for minimal income—were considered relatively respectable.
Such scholars were well aware of the realities of the times. In the academies, they read the classics daily and regarded themselves as the rare one in ten thousand destined for greatness, looking down upon other struggling scholars as either lacking talent or ambition.
Unlike them, some came from poorer backgrounds, or had faced life’s hardships early, and thus understood the value of practical effort. These were willing to lower themselves for the sake of opportunity.
Shu Rui looked favorably upon the student before him. “I’m a common man running a small business, caring little for size. Even a few copper coins earned is enough. If you wish to cooperate with me, what sort of reward do you have in mind?”
“One copper coin per meal I record,” the student replied. “What do you think of that, sir?”
Shu Rui, though impressed with the student, was shrewd in business.
“You flatter me. My meals are a low-profit venture. If you take one coin per meal, what remains for profit? Besides, recording a single name to earn one coin seems too easy. I could instead spend a little effort asking those who buy meals at noon whether they need dinner orders.”
The student smiled. “You are clever. Asking the noon buyers only yields a fraction who will take dinner—perhaps one in ten. Outsiders cannot enter the academy to buy food. I, however, reside here and move freely. I am on friendly terms with a few dormitory students from other regions. If I record a coin per meal, I will strive to gather as many names as possible.”
Shu Rui’s eyes shifted. The student’s reasoning was sound; his cooperation could be genuinely useful.
But his proposed price was high. Shu Rui, unwilling to give away too much, said, “You are clever, and cooperating with you is ideal. Three coins for four meals is fair. Any higher, and I gain nothing.”
Seeing Shu Rui’s resolute expression, the student did not haggle further and agreed, “Very well, we will follow your price.”
They then discussed the details: how to collect the list of names, the time and place to deliver dinner orders, and other arrangements.
Lu Ling kept one eye on the serving and one on Shu Rui, curious about the long conversation and its cheerful tone. The two strangers seemed to be getting along well, laughing at their business discussion.
Shu Rui finished serving the current students and was about to watch when the student returned.
“Who is that? What did he want?”
Shu Rui, in a good mood, busied himself washing used bowls.
“He says his name is Yu Qiaosheng, a student of the academy. He wishes to do business with us. We discussed the terms. I found him practical, sharp-minded, willing to earn some coins, which is rare. Moreover, he will benefit us, so I agreed.”
He explained the arrangement to Lu Ling.
Lu Ling frowned. “Why didn’t he speak with me instead?”
Shu Rui, patient as ever, said, “With whom you speak isn’t important. What matters is that it worked out.”
Lu Ling found that fair and reasonable. Still, he couldn’t resist asking, “You praise that student so highly… does he impress you more, or me?”
“….”
Shu Rui set down his bowl and glanced at Lu Ling. “Still not done, huh? Just fishing for words.”
Lu Ling, seeing Shu Rui’s mock sternness, relented and fell silent.
The academy’s lunch break was short, barely over half an hour. At the peak, students crowded the streets to buy meals. By the time the bell rang, most had already eaten, and traffic thinned.
Shu Rui had sold most of his prepared meals by peak time, leaving only a dozen or so. Students farther along the street bought little, and other food vendors were also slow.
Fortunately, he had prepared fewer meals than he would at the docks. At the docks, he would prepare sixty or seventy portions, here only about fifty. Without prior consideration, he might have had too many leftovers.
He continued to call out for passing customers, waiting for Yu Qiaosheng’s dinner list to complete his day’s sales.
“Business seems good here, yet you haven’t sold out?”
Shu Rui, wiping bowls, saw an older vendor from across the street approaching.
“Seeing only a crowd, the cold dishes sell well,” the old man said, pointing at Shu Rui’s dishes. “Give me two vegetables, reduce two coins. The academy bell will ring soon. After that, most leftover food goes home unsold.”
Shu Rui knew this logic. Leftovers would be eaten by him and Lu Ling, but in hot weather, surplus could spoil. It was best to sell as much as possible.
One portion of two vegetable dishes cost ten coins, but the old man offered only eight. Since Shu Rui and Lu Ling had prepared everything themselves, without hiring helpers, they wanted to earn a little extra.
“If we sell it at a low price, we earn almost nothing. Once people know, future customers will expect lower prices. It’s better to maintain fair pricing while adding a little extra for value.”
After some haggling, the old man finally paid nine coins, counting twice to be sure. He carried the food back happily, tempting other vendors nearby.
The morning’s work left Shu Rui parched and hungry, having had only some porridge, but he pushed on. Several more customers came, and Shu Rui gave each a little extra, sometimes reducing the price by a coin.
By the time Yu Qiaosheng delivered the dinner list, only a few meals remained.
“Be here at the hour of the rooster,” Yu Qiaosheng instructed.
Shu Rui took the list and coins. “Don’t worry, we’ll be punctual.”
The student left, and the academy bell rang soon after. Shu Rui and Lu Ling packed up and returned by cart.
On the way, Shu Rui opened Yu Qiaosheng’s list. The characters were elegant, naturally composed, and drew Shu Rui’s eyes immediately.
Just then, a head popped in, blocking his view.
“Drive carefully,” Lu Ling said.
Shu Rui nudged him aside.
“Spending so long looking—can’t read?”
“Who can’t read?” Shu Rui replied honestly. “I just admire Yu Qiaosheng’s handwriting. He may have considerable talent.”
Lu Ling said nothing, simply watching Shu Rui.
Shu Rui felt as if he had done something wrong, though he hadn’t. He cleared his throat. “Talent aside, that has little to do with us. In cooperation, character matters most. After all, you’re the one who can manage the fire and sewing.”
Lu Ling snorted softly, took the list, and tucked it into his sleeve.
“How many names are there?”
“Twenty-two,” Shu Rui said, pressing his lips together, letting it go.
The student’s efforts had indeed secured a respectable number of dinner orders.
Back at the inn, Shu Rui and Lu Ling had lunch. Shu Rui didn’t rest but went to the market to buy more vegetables and meat, preparing for the evening meals.
Although the orders totaled twenty-two, Shu Rui still prepared thirty portions, thinking that a few students who hadn’t placed orders yet might see their classmates receiving food and want some as well. Even with the extra preparations, it wasn’t as much as he had prepared for the morning rush, so he resolved to make the evening meals more exquisite and appetizing.
For the main dish, he chose fish, selecting four large green carp with few bones and thick, meaty flesh. After cleaning, he cut them into large chunks, coated them with flour, and deep-fried them until crisp on the outside and tender inside. Then he braised them with mushrooms in a rich sauce, so the crispy flour absorbed the savory juices, becoming soft and glutinous while the fish inside retained its original freshness and sweetness. It was a delicious dish, though very oil-intensive, which is why Shu Rui rarely made it for sale.
Since this was his first time delivering dinner to the picky students of the academy, he wanted to earn a good reputation. When the academy kitchen reopened, some of these students might become repeat customers.
For side dishes, he made a sesame-oil tofu and stir-fried celery. He sliced the celery stalks and tossed them with the leaves in the wok. The rice remained as before—a simple mix of beans and rice—but he added a little twist: some peach flesh cooked with the rice, so the grain absorbed a subtle, fresh peach fragrance. Peaches were in season and inexpensive, easily bought from local farmers for just a few coins.
Scholars appreciated such little flourishes; though his fare was simple, it still catered to their tastes for refinement.
That evening, Shu Rui arrived at the academy half an hour early. The students had already finished their classes, and few street vendors remained—much quieter than at noon. He waited at the agreed spot. Although it was his first business transaction with Yu Qiaosheng, he hadn’t collected a deposit, confident that the student would honor the agreement. Scholars valued trust and reputation; if Yu dared break the deal, Shu Rui could publicize it at the academy daily.
As he wiped his hands with a cloth, he overheard two students wondering if the food had arrived yet. When they saw Shu Rui and Lu Ling, they quickly approached.
“Is this the vendor Yu mentioned?”
“Yes,” Shu Rui replied, setting down the cloth.
“Yu told the master to see the articles and told us to come to the gate at the appointed time. He’ll come later.”
Shu Rui said, “I have the list Yu prepared. You two can state your names for my record, so there’s no confusion later.”
The students promptly gave their names, confirming accuracy, and Lu Ling served them their dishes. More students who had reserved meals arrived one by one.
“The braised fried fish—Yu was right. The dishes here taste excellent and are well-prepared,” one student remarked eagerly.
“I can even smell a hint of peach in the rice—it smells like the Peaches of the Brocade Tower,” another said.
Students who arrived later, hearing such praise, quickened their steps toward the stall, eyes darting over the fragrant dishes. Those who had pre-ordered two side dishes regretted spending only two coins and decided to add a third.
“I’ll pay two more coins for all three dishes. Just looking at them makes my mouth water,” one student said.
Shu Rui refused to add dishes individually, as he had prepared extra portions for those without reservations, all coordinated with rice. “I’m sorry, scholar. Portions are fixed. If I serve you separately, later customers may not have enough.”
The student had to settle for sharing a taste with classmates.
The prearranged schedule made service efficient. Shu Rui had nearly finished checking off all names when a student hesitantly asked, “May we buy meals now if we didn’t pre-order at noon?”
Shu Rui had anticipated this. Seeing four students approaching, he said, “How many portions do you need? I have some extra meals, originally intended for nearby vendors. If you’re in a hurry, I can set some aside for you.”
“Four portions—we want all three dishes,” they said eagerly.
Shu Rui happily prepared the extra portions, and Lu Ling served them. At that moment, Yu Qiaosheng appeared from the academy.
The students blushed upon seeing him, quickly taking their bowls and sneaking back into the academy, avoiding eye contact. Earlier, when Yu asked around about dinner orders, these students had dismissed the idea, criticizing street food as mediocre and unsanitary, mocking Yu for associating with vendors. Now, seeing the meals delivered, they had enjoyed them and could no longer maintain their pride.
Yu shook his head and smiled; indeed, the small stall’s food was superior.
Shu Rui handed Yu the payment—seventeen coins for twenty-two meals—and added one portion for him. Yu hadn’t pre-ordered, usually having a simple evening meal of two flatbreads and dried fish. Seeing Shu Rui’s preparation, he instinctively reached for his coins but was stopped.
“This meal is on the house, Yu,” Shu Rui said.
Yu asked, confused, “We hadn’t arranged this. Doesn’t this mean you’re losing out?”
Shu Rui smiled. “It’s a small business. Offering one free meal is nothing. Small ventures like this rarely lose from generosity. Besides, we cooperate sincerely with partners, and I respect you.”
Yu, coming from a poor family, earned small sums through copying texts and letters. He had no expectation of such generosity and wondered what Shu Rui meant by “respect,” uncertain if it was sincere or mocking.
Shu Rui saw Yu’s hesitation and explained earnestly, “I don’t mean to jest. Yu, your penmanship is excellent, yet you are practical enough to earn an honest living. That character commands respect.”
Yu was slightly taken aback. Few had genuinely praised him in this way. He realized that although Shu Rui’s appearance was plain, his heart was remarkably perceptive. He bowed deeply in thanks.
Shu Rui and Lu Ling returned home as the sun set. The evening glow lit the courtyard in warm reds and oranges.
After two rounds of business that day, Shu Rui was exhausted but pleased. The morning sales brought in six hundred eighteen coins, and the thirty evening meals earned four hundred twenty coins. Together, he had more than a tael.
He had never earned so much in a single day. While deducting costs left less than a full tael, it still surpassed previous trips to the docks. He felt elated, thinking that if he could maintain both businesses, he’d soon save enough to renovate his shop.
Lu Ling sat with him at the same table, watching him thread coins into strings, eyes shining like a treasure-seeker. He secretly pocketed a few coins, unnoticed by Shu Rui. A faint smile touched his lips, enjoying such simple, contented days.