Transmigrating to the Ming Dynasty’s Imperial Examination

When I get busy, time passes very quickly.

Cui Xie goes to school during the day, does questions, draws and endorses at night, and time passes by like running water, only twelve hours are not enough. There are no days without holidays in the school, and he has no time to read the almanac. He can't remember what tonight or eve, only knowing that the countdown to the county test is getting less and less every day.

When he was about to go out that morning, he suddenly found that a long slender stove ash had been poured in the yard and led from the well to the kitchen. A gray-yellow thread like bran was laid out from the well. Cui Yuan was cleaning next to him, but he didn't move the two long lines at all. It seemed that there was some custom.

He stopped for a while, and asked curiously: "What day is it today to get these ashes in the yard?"

Sister Huang came out of the kitchen and said with a backlash: "Gong Zi, this is the custom in our county. You have to bring dragons into your house and you will get rich this year."

Cui Xie suddenly didn't dare to speak, for fear of revealing that he didn't understand the customs of his dynasty. Fortunately, this custom is really unique to Qian'an. Jingli is not fashionable with this, and Pengyan whispered and explained to him: "I also know that this is the custom of our hometown. We have to use rice bran to lead to the well, and then Use stove ash to lead from the well to the edge of the water urn, so that the dragon can be brought into the house. In the future, if the dragon lives in our well, we can bless the master’s wealth!"

Huang Sao was a little timid at him, but she looked at him with a smile like a junior in her own home. She also said a few more words: "I will eat fried cakes today, but I have cakes in the morning. It is not easy to digest, and at noon I am afraid that the wind will blow on the road. The oil cake is not crispy. The son will come back early in the evening. I will fry the rice cake for you and sprinkle it with sugar."

Cui Xie nodded and said gently, "Okay, I'm about to eat oil cake. Now that I have used oil, I will also deep-fry some sesame balls, sweet hemp leaves, glutinous rice, chopsticks...make more, you guys Eat it at home and give it to neighbors to taste."

Sister Huang responded "Hey" and went back to the kitchen to work. He went to the door of Zhao's house and waited for Zhao Yinglin to come out, and the two went to school together.

Zhao’s family didn’t have the habit of not eating oil cakes in the morning. Zhao Yinglin held two pieces of oil paper and wrapped them, and the fried rice cakes came out so that they were crispy and buttery. He handed him a piece and said, "My grandma made it by herself. The way in Nanbian is different from other people's. You can taste it and make sure it is delicious."

The weather in early February was still quite cold, and the oil cakes just fried were not hot anymore. Cui Xie accepted it honestly, tearing open the oil paper and taking a bite. The rice cake was thinly sandwiched with a layer of lard and sugar filling, which almost burned him, but it was really different from the taste here, the cake was somehow softer and sweeter.

Cui Xie couldn't help being thankful again that he had gotten a study, otherwise he wanted to make money by selling snacks like other travellers, even the tastes of the customers on this street could not be satisfied.

Cannibal hands are short. After eating the cake, he patted the back of Zhao Yinglin's hand particularly consciously and said, "If you are going to test the postscript of the script today, I will surely copy it for you from Zhao Nai's fried cake."

The smile on Brother Zhao Xiaoshi’s face was about to fly out, and he pretended to say, “Am I that kind of person? Tie the scriptures and the meanings are the basic skills of our scholars, I have naturally learned by heart.”

Cui Xie almost laughed, taking care of the pupils' emotions and said, "Brother Ying Lin naturally didn't mean this. I am a little uncertain about myself. I have to match you when I write."

The smile on Zhao Yinglin’s face deepened. He no longer pretended to be a good student who didn’t cheat, nodded indiscriminately, and enthusiastically told him about Shangding and Shangmao for two days of worshipping the Wenwu Temple. The husband might have to make some response with the county magistrate. Poetry, maybe give them a holiday.

Such a real child always has nothing to worry about and is easily satisfied. Just in order to copy a stroke in the test of silent writing, he was happy from morning to afternoon until his husband officially asked them to write the scriptures silently.

Suddenly someone came from the Cui family, saying that there was a guest from Jingli, and asked Cui Xie to go back to treat the guests. Zhao Yinglin's joy suddenly turned into horror. He stared at him to see him leave step by step, but he didn't have the courage to hold him. He could only watch him walk outside the door of clear freedom, facing the full story alone.

Not to mention what would happen to the young brother of the Zhao family in the classroom, Cui Xie was also a little nervous when he went out: so far, only two people in Jingli have come to him. Most of the family is looking for trouble, and the other is he wants to make friends. My friend, the difference between these two options is so big that you encounter a robber on the road, or pick up five million in cash on the road.

He shook his head and asked the worker who came to pick him up: "Who is looking for me?"

"It's a subordinate of Jin Yiwei's family, called Xie Shan." The worker did not live in Cui's house. Naturally, he didn't know that Xie Shan had visited during the New Year, nor did he know their relationship. He was in awe of Jin Yiwei. He lowered his voice and said, "I said I'm here to give the son a drink."

Cui Xie's smile became clearer, his feet accelerated, and he walked back home quickly.

Sister Huang had already exploded many hemp leaves, sprinkled a thick layer of sugar, and glutinous rice dumplings covered with bean paste, and crispy and salty forks, all served out. Xie Shan sat in the flower hall and ate a sip of tea and snacks. When he saw him, he clapped his hands and stood up and laughed: "The little one is about to thank the son for his hospitality. Your snacks are not inferior to those in Beijing."

He handed out a gift list again. There were not so many special products from the capital, only some ordinary snacks and fruits, plus ten jars of fine wine.

This wine is the recipe he gave to brew the aromatic sorghum distilled liquor.

Xie Shan said: "This wine has just been steamed. Our master tasted good, so he eagerly gave it to the son. However, the brewing time is short. Although it is clear and fragrant, it is not soft and mellow. Master. Ask me to tell the son, this wine is best kept in the cellar for a year or two, and then go get angry and drink it. At that time, you have grown up and you can drink strong wine."

Cui Xie smiled while holding the gift list: "How can I be so concerned about being an adult in a thousand households. I accepted the wine, and I have a gift to ask my brother to take it back for me."

He accepted the gift list and went to the study to take out a scroll. When opened, it was a scroll of Guanyin, which was painted as finely as the portrait of Xie Qianhu. The appearance of Guanyin is completely taken from "Journey to the West", but he can't remember the specific clothes. It is based on the portrait of Guanyin sold outside.

Xie Shan stood up on the spot, chanted the Buddha, and sighed: "This is the true Buddha statue. How can the son draw such a appearance? The temple offering is not as good as this!"

That's because Mr. Zuo Dajing is a good-looking teacher, and he was recognized by the masses as Guanyin when he went out for filming. At best, he had a deep childhood memory, and he painted more alike. Cui Xie smiled modestly: "Little brother Xie passed the award. I was thinking about painting a portrait that can be hung because you said that the portrait is not easy to hang last time. I don't know that thousands of adults believe in the Buddha, so I painted it. This one."

Last time Xie Shan came to give away so many paints, he was thinking about using that paint to paint a picture called Xie Qianhu.

Ordinary portraits are not convenient to hang outside, and self-portraits are not a gift. But when today we emphasize the integration of the three religions, Taoist monks and monks all go to the court, and the folk beliefs are also strong. Most people will invite a **** or Buddha image home. In Sanqing, he remembered a little fuzzy, and the painting was not very good, so he had to give a statue of Guanyin first-even if Xie Qianhu didn't use it, he could give it to his elders and friends who believed in Buddha.

Xie Shan's face was pious and he held the picture scroll and said, "We adults don't have any special beliefs. Anyway, we go to the temple and donate some sesame oil to the temple during any festival. I will see a good Buddha statue like Cui Gongzi. , Maybe you believe it."

Cui Xie breathed a sigh of relief and said, "That's good. There are still a few newly printed Diamond Sutras in my house. They are all from my own bookstore. They are not worth anything. You can also bring me into Beijing and ask Master Xie to take them. Give it away."

He looked at Xie Shan holding the painting and didn't dare to move, so he went up to help him roll it up and tied it with a red thread. Xie Shan put the scroll on the clean table respectfully, got up and thanked him: "Then I will thank the son on behalf of my master. After March, it will be Ching Ming, and there will be Buddha Bathing Festival on the eighth day of April. On the good days of scrolling, with the scriptures printed by the son, our master can also save a lot of things."

He dragged a cart of presents back. Xie Ying first hung the painting in the study, then opened a scripture book, and looked at the faint lotus flower and curled and trailing colored paintings on the bottom of the scripture, and couldn't help frowning: " This is Cui Meiren'er's printing method. You said this is Cui Gongzi's own printing?"

It turns out that Zhirong Study belongs to his family? Cui Meiren is really that Cui Mei...Cui Young Master?

Xie Shan didn't know what he was thinking. He nodded and said: "Young Master Cui said it was printed by his own bookstore. The little thought is only a few volumes of scriptures, and there is nothing to pay in return..."

Xie Ying glanced at him faintly: "Do you know that it's not costly again? He is such a lonely and indifferent young man who can have a lot of family background. This scripture is printed in color, and it is necessary to spend a lot of money when printing. I don’t know how much it cost to buy, how can you get so many copies of him back!"

Keep your head down without speaking, secretly slander: You give gifts and return gifts this time, and you run errands back and forth with him in the middle, and you still complain.

Thinking about returning, he didn't dare to say this. Instead, he had to say in a positive manner: "Young Master Cui said that this book was printed by his bookstore, or he would take a few family members back and pretend to be out of town. The merchants are inquiring about where his shop is? If someone doesn't bully him with long eyes, the young one will quietly hand over a post from a thousand adults to the yamen, covering his shop safely and earning money every day!"

Xie Ying sneered: "His family is under the imperial decree, and he is also the parent and child of the householder. He has a deep friendship with the son of the commander. Who dares to insult him in Qian'an. But these scholars do not necessarily know how to operate... Go back and have a look-you don't have to come to see him again, just look at the unsalable books in his shop, buy some at random, and I will take it as a gift."

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In Xie Ying's impression, Cui Xie, who is upright and ignorant of vulgar affairs, is thinking about how to sell the Diamond Sutra.

The fourth day of February is the day of Shangding. The county is going to make sacrifices to the Confucian Temple. It is on this day that the students are going to pretend to be, and they are all going to sacrifice and compose praising the sages. Mr. Lin set up the car early in the morning and gave the group of elementary school students a day off. Cui Xie finished his homework the night before and came back on horseback in the morning. After an hour’s copybook was quiet, he asked people to call the treasurer to study the new book. Sale issues.

Inspired by Xie Shan, he wanted to print more scriptures to donate to nearby Buddhist temples, and borrow the monks there to sell his scriptures.

The treasurer Ji was silent for a while. Seeing that he didn't seem to be joking, he tentatively asked, "Is the son only looking at reading? I don't know how many temples we have around Qian'an?"

Cui Xie blinked and asked boldly, "There are many? Could there be five or six?" If there are only two or three temples, they can give dozens of books in one temple, and if there are more, they can only give away a few. .

These scriptures are also useless in the monastery. Most of them are either sold to the faithful or given to the rich man. His Diamond Sutra was made into a fold, which is a bit more delicate than the two hand-painted books he hand-painted during Chinese New Year. The cover is framed with fine jacquard damask, each page is printed with a light-colored lotus base, the frontispiece is printed on the Xitianda Leiyin Temple, and the trailing picture is printed on the white cloth and painted Guanyin. When the donation goes out, it is several times more pious than the ordinary scriptures. Does the faithful do not like it?

He is optimistic about the business opportunities here, and wants to use the power of the temple to promote his own Diamond Sutra in advance. First let everyone know that his family scriptures are good, and when the people are vying to give the scriptures to the Qingming Festival and Bathing Buddha, they naturally have to buy them first.

At that time, you can also make a private order, and if you buy a large amount, you can print a single page of "Xu Xing Xin Men Xin Fei Ji Shi" on the back of the book.

He thought very well, but the treasurer Ji gave him a meaningful look, as if he was looking at an unknown junior. In the past, the shopkeeper regarded him as Shen Wansan's trustworthiness, but he rarely viewed him that way. Cui Xie couldn't help but feel a little guilty, and added a few more: "Could it be possible that there are more than ten?"

The shopkeeper shook his head and sighed: "The young owner only counts how many mountains we have here. There are only more temples and temples than mountains. How can there be less than mountains? Our Qian'an has seven mountains and two waters. In Tian’s place, there is a temple in every mountain, and there are 62 temples built, and there are only two with the gift of plaques. There is also a Guanyin Temple, the son of the scriptures is printed on the Guanyin statue, there It must be donated."

There are dozens of temples in such a small county, is it unreasonable? Who built this? There are only more than 5,000 households in one county, and 60 temples are provided. Can the monks eat?

The shopkeeper Ji said proudly: "Most of the county is devout and trustworthy, and the donation of firewood is never ambiguous. In the year of Fashui, the masters also borrowed temples and palaces and gave up a lot of rice to save people, so the incense is now even more prosperous. Miles! Looking at the counties and counties under Yongping Mansion, and even the city, except for one Luanzhou in Zhili, which has a few more temples than us, none of them are as good as us!"

Well, well, I know that the monks can eat, we also have to point to the monks to eat, so how can we give the scriptures this time?

The treasurer Ji recalled for a while, and said: "There is a Xuanjue Temple in the east of the county where it is necessary to donate, and then there are two Qingning Temples and Baoning Temples that have received edict plaques, and a Guanyin Temple. The incense of these companies is also the most prosperous. A hundred volumes of donation is almost the same. In our shop, we can have a thousand taels of water a month ago, and now there are not many books published, so it's not a problem to spend a few hundred taels on this."

In fact, just to pray for the boss himself, spending a few hundred taels to worship the Buddha is not too much.

The author has something to say: There are so many temples in the Qian'an County Chronicles printed in the Republic of China. It may not be the Ming Dynasty, but at least one of the materials is more accurate than what I compiled, so I wrote it like this