Casting aside his chaotic thoughts, Yun Ye buried himself in the study. Before beginning his farmer’s life, he had to organize the academy’s mathematics teaching materials. The earlier mathematics foundation for elementary content had already been written to the third volume. As long as he completed the fourth volume in his hands, elementary mathematics would have a complete framework.

This included recognition of mathematical symbols and simple practical applications. Although Li Tai and the others strongly opposed such idiotic scenarios as one pipe filling water while another pipe drains it, asking when the water could be completely drained, they had no choice under Yun Ye’s high pressure but to carefully research exactly when the water could be drained dry.

They didn’t want to leave a big fat zero on their exam papers. The examination-oriented education of later generations had demonstrated powerful deterrent force in the Great Tang.

In Chang’an City now, when old friends met, it had become popular to ask: “How did your second son do on his exams?” This novel conversational approach meant that students who tested well had parents with haughty expressions, yet they’d say humbly: “So-so, third in the academy.”

As for students who didn’t test well, their monthly return home was like passing through the gates of hell—days spent in fear and trepidation, utterly devoid of any joy.

Writing the last character, Yun Ye put down the charcoal pencil in his hand, wiped his face with a damp cloth, and pushed open the door. He saw Old Zhuang with his horizontal blade slung across his body, standing at the entrance like a door guardian deity.

There was no help for it. If the old grandmother now discovered Yun Ye writing during the day, she would tightly close the gate, decline all visitors, and personally sit in her rocking chair guarding the entrance. After he finished writing, she would diligently tidy up her grandson’s study, not letting anyone else touch it.

As for nighttime, the household’s most loyal Zhuang Santing would appear. Over time, the household servants and maids, unless they had important business, absolutely would not step foot into the study courtyard. This change greatly satisfied the old grandmother.

“Old Zhuang, it’s already the third watch. Go rest. I’ve already finished writing tonight. You don’t need to always guard here.”

“Marquis, your important matters take priority. Old Zhuang’s body is strong—missing two hours of sleep won’t matter.”

“Well then, keep me company and talk. I’ve been cooped up for two days—my body’s about to rust. Let me relax a bit. Tell me, how are things at home? You just got married—accompanying your wife is what really matters. What’s the point of guarding a study for no reason? Don’t let your wife develop resentment.” Yun Ye harbored great resentment about Grandmother turning the study into the White Tiger Hall.

“That wife of mine is a country person, rough hands and rough feet. If it weren’t for seeing she had a good child-bearing build, this servant wouldn’t have married her. If she dares interfere in men’s business, I’ll beat her to death.” Speaking of his wife, Zhuang Santing had a beaming, laughing Buddha expression. It was said she was a daughter from a good family. Old Zhuang had used money to defeat numerous suitors before successfully winning the beauty’s hand. On the wedding day, Yun Ye had attended. At this time there was no evil custom of veiled heads—the new bride wore bright red wedding clothes, with thick eyebrows, big eyes, and a big mouth, a standard Guanzhong girl, tall and robust in stature, well-matched with Old Zhuang, just a bit young, only sixteen years old.

“Stop being so smug. Behind closed doors, who knows if you’re propping up a stool or kneeling at the edge of the kang—now you come here playing the big lord.” Yun Ye didn’t believe such a strange thing as equality existed in an old husband-young wife relationship.

“Really, Marquis, you mustn’t slander people! Old Zhuang is an upstanding man—would I let my wife point fingers at me? If you don’t believe me, I’ll go beat her right now.”

“Settle down. Who told you to go beat your wife? Only useless men beat their wives. Running the household well is better than anything.” Military people’s stupidity came from exactly this—they couldn’t stand provocation, exploding as soon as provoked.

Aunt came over from the moon gate carrying a food box. Seeing Yun Ye and Zhuang Santing talking, she opened the food box and placed it on the stone table in the courtyard. She ladled out two bowls of porridge from the large bowl, also took out two small dishes with very little food in them, plus a small bowl of salt-water boiled fava beans. The wine pot contained grape wine. Yun Ye had a habit of drinking a bit before bed—this bad habit brought from later generations. Grandmother, however, considered this a good rule that only wealthy households had.

Beckoning Zhuang Santing to sit opposite him, he poured him a cup and took one for himself. Zhuang Santing was long familiar with Yun Ye’s temperament and wasn’t polite. He drained the wine in one gulp, picked up the porridge bowl, and slurped it down. He didn’t touch the vegetables at all.

Aunt entered the study, rustling about as she organized the manuscripts—needless to say, she was sent by Grandmother.

“Old Zhuang, how are the tenant farmers living now? Can they still eat their fill?”

“Marquis, tenant farmers under heaven are all the same—grain is never enough to eat. This is also strange: the poorer people are, the more they can eat. When this servant eats at the manor, three bowls of rice are enough. At home, if I don’t eat four bowls, I feel like I haven’t eaten. I don’t know what the reason is.”

“No oil or fat content—you understand? People can’t survive on grain alone. They also need to eat meat, eat vegetables, eat various mixed grains, eat fruit—only then is it adequate. The manor’s food has more variety. If you eat one more bite of vegetables, you’ll eat one less bite of grain. If you gnaw on one more piece of fruit, you’ll also eat one less bite of grain. Moreover, the manor’s food uses more oil, so naturally it’s more filling. This isn’t something your home can compare with.”

Yun Ye was very disappointed. Zhuang Santing had avoided the actual living conditions of the farming households, using his own unfunny joke to change the subject.

Yun Ye had investigated—ninety percent of people on the estate were in a state of extreme poverty. That is to say, their homes didn’t have enough grain to last a year. They had to rely on wild vegetables and wild fruits to get through famine. Wanting to rely on sideline breeding to rapidly lift them out of poverty was impossible.

Having them raise chickens and pigs would increase their living burden. When people couldn’t even eat their fill, what else was there to discuss? Tenant farmers still digging in the fields at the third watch weren’t nonexistent—not because they had no time during the day, but to avoid wearing out their clothes while working, they stripped naked and hid from people to farm at night.

Yun Ye’s determination to become a farmer arose from hearing this joke.

The academy was important. In Yun Ye’s view, his dream had to be realized through the academy. This was a place for cultivating high-end talent that would branch out in the future. From that joke, Yun Ye realized he had made a tremendous mistake—a higher education institution without a popular foundation could only be a flash in the pan.

This was putting a yoke around his own neck! There were clearly happy, carefree days to live, yet he was bringing suffering upon himself. Once a person had ambition, they had to face pain—everything was self-inflicted. But as someone who had lived in an era of extreme material abundance, his self-respect didn’t allow such a situation to appear in his territory, because that was a desecration of humanity. Whether it was Yun Ye of later generations or Yun Ye of the Great Tang, neither would allow such a joke to appear again.

The Buddhist scriptures say: Like a person in a thorn forest—if they don’t move, the thorns won’t wound them. If deluded thoughts don’t arise, one constantly dwells in the bliss of extinction. Once deluded thoughts stir, one is immediately wounded by various thorns.

Raising his head to look at the bright moon at its zenith, Yun Ye remained silent for a long time. Zhuang Santing quietly rose and patrolled the surroundings. Having finished tidying the study, Aunt saw her nephew in a daze and hid her body in the shadow of the eaves, watching worriedly without making a sound. She could sense that the entire courtyard was filled with unwillingness.