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Chapter 227: With a family like this, what more can I ask for?

 The north wind blew outside, and the night was extremely cold.

After her mother, Mrs. Chen, cleared the table for dinner, she returned to the bedroom and was a little distracted. Father Zhu mixed the foot-washing water for Mrs. Chen before putting it under her feet. Mrs. Chen almost stepped over the footbath while washing her feet.

"Our family is not short of money, so it's okay to lend some to my eldest brother. He said he would pay it back." Zhu's father thought that Chen was distressed about the ten taels of silver he lent to his eldest brother Zhu Shouren in the evening, so he couldn't help but comfort him.

"Then you still don't know the year of the monkey and the month of the horse." Mrs. Chen curled her lips, "I didn't point out that your eldest brother can pay back the money. I also watched Jun'er grow up, so we should pay some money to propose marriage to Jun'er.

.”

Zhu's father laughed when he heard this. He also knew his eldest brother's character. The last few times he had borrowed money from him in private, he had no intention of repaying it. Let alone repaying it, his eldest brother never even mentioned the matter of borrowing money.

"His father, Jun'er has said kiss in the blink of an eye, do you think our pig should also say kiss?" Mrs. Chen washed her feet carelessly and hurriedly, then looked at Zhu's father and asked with bright eyes.

"Don't worry, Jun'er is one year older than She'er. Besides, She'er is going to take the exam in the capital soon. Don't let him be distracted."

Only then did Zhu's father realize that Chen's absence was not because of borrowing money, but because of Xie'er's marriage. After hearing what Chen said, Zhu's father thought for a moment, shook his head, and then bent down to wash Chen's feet.

He brought the foot-washing water in front of him, took off his shoes, and washed his feet with Chen's foot-washing water.

"That's right. It looks like She'er is going to Beijing to take the exam. She's only been home for a few days."

Mrs. Chen thought that Zhu Ping'an was going to take the exam at the emperor's feet soon. It would be bad if it affected the exam, so Ms. Chen suppressed the idea of ​​marrying Zhu Ping'an for the time being.

In another room, Zhu Pingan didn't know that he was almost being kissed. At this time, Zhu Pingan was sitting at the desk by the window. By the light of the oil lamp, he was flipping through the books borrowed from the rich man Li's house and reading for a while.

Copy for a while, then when your hands are unbearably cold, put your hands in your sleeves to warm them for a while, then pick up the pen and continue copying.

At the beginning, Zhu Pingan really used the Eight-part essay as a tool for imperial examinations and officialdom. Originally, he had a completely critical attitude. The more he read and read, the more Zhu Pingan slowly read admiration and admiration from the Eight-part essay.

The eight-part essay does not have the variety of styles of Song poetry or the heroic atmosphere of Tang poetry, but it has a unique and thoughtful thinking. It can also be magnificent, fresh and elegant, and can be full of literary talent and variety, even if it is limited to the strict eight-part format.

, in fact, it also leaves room for innovation and differentiation for truly knowledgeable and talented people.

The most important thing is that this is also the ladder for children from poor families to advance to the top. After the bitterness of Qingdeng Cold Roll, there is the joy of being named on the gold list.

After Zhu Ping'an copied a model eight-part essay, he studied it carefully. He checked the ideas and writing style several times with the eight-part essay he had written based on the topic before. He took the essence and found the shortcomings. He gained a lot in a short time.

After reading this eight-part essay, Zhu Pingan took up his pen and wrote another eight-part essay. Halfway through writing, the oil lamp suddenly went out.

The windows were closed, no wind could blow in. But the oil lamp suddenly went out.

It was dark and quiet outside at the moment, and the sound of the wind sounded like a ghost.

Could it be that?

Zhu Ping'an held the oil lamp in his hand and paused.

"well"

Just listen to a sigh floating quietly in the room at this time.

"The lamp is out of oil again."

Zhu Ping'an paused and sighed. He noticed a few days ago that there was not much oil in the oil lamp, but he forgot to add it. At this moment, the oil was gone and the lamp went out. However, his thoughts were flowing, and he had only written half of the eight-part essay. This

It feels like a man and a woman are doing something interesting but their lifeblood is being strangled halfway through.

As a last resort, Zhu Pingan had no choice but to put on another thick coat. Holding the oil lamp, he opened the door and went to the kitchen. His mother, Mrs. Chen, had put all the lamp oil in the kitchen. She had to go to the kitchen to refuel.

It was dark and quiet outside, and the moonlight was so cold that I could barely see my feet clearly.

Zhu Ping'an entered the kitchen, lit the oil lamp in the kitchen with a flint, then used the light to add oil to his own oil lamp, then lit the fire again, and then blew out the oil lamp in the kitchen.

When Zhu Ping'an walked out of the kitchen door with an oil lamp, he saw a dark figure standing at the door, appearing suddenly in the moonlight.

Zhu Pingan almost threw the oil lamp in his hand to the ground.

"Zhe'er, it's you. I thought there was a burglar in the house. Why aren't you sleeping yet? Father Zhu's voice came.

Dad, don’t you know this will scare people?

Zhu Ping'an looked at his father with a look of resentment, shook the oil lamp in his hand and said, "Dad, the oil lamp in my son's room ran out of oil just now, so I came over and added some oil."

"It's almost time. Stop reading and go to bed." The door of the main room opened, and the mother, Mrs. Chen, stood at the door and yawned.

"Well, I got it, Mom, I'm going to sleep right now." Zhu Pingan responded.

Zhu's father and Mrs. Chen went back to their rooms to rest one after another. Zhu Ping'an entered the bedroom with an oil lamp, put the oil lamp on the table, sat at the table and continued to write down the eight-legged essay he had not finished.

When Chen got out of bed the next morning, she found through the window that Zhu Ping'an, who had slept very late last night, was sitting in front of the big stone in the yard practicing calligraphy again.

What are you doing early? Did you sleep well last night?

Zhi'er studied so hard that she really didn't want to disturb him anymore, so Chen gave up the idea of ​​marrying Zhu Pingan.

"Dad, go and catch an old hen from the chicken coop and kill it to make soup." Mrs. Chen stood in front of the window and turned to her father Zhu who was getting up and said.

"Didn't the old Zhang family just send a prepared rooster yesterday?" Father Zhu said to Mrs. Chen while putting on his shoes.

"How can a rooster be nourished like our old hen? I see Piggy got up so early again. I don't know when I went to bed last night. I have to nourish him well." Mrs. Chen looked at Zhu Ping'an who was working hard outside the window and felt distressed.

said.

"As long as you don't feel bad." Zhu's father smiled.

"Kill if you are told. You talk a lot, aren't you a big man?" Mrs. Chen glared hard at Father Zhu and said.

"You still don't know whether I am a great man or not?" Zhu's father muttered with a pun.

"What did Hun say!"

Before he finished speaking, Mrs. Chen, blushing, gave Zhu's father a hard squeeze on the arm.

Zhu's father didn't cry out in pain, instead he grinned stupidly.

"Why are you laughing? You poured out the chamber pot!" Mrs. Chen blushed and glared at Zhu's father, turned her head, and went out to cook.

Zhu Ping'an was practicing calligraphy on a stone when he suddenly heard a chicken flying in the chicken coop in the yard. He turned around and saw Zhu's father holding an old hen with a few chicken feathers on his head and muttering "Chicken, chicken, don't send hair."

Strange, then he stabbed it cleanly, plucked out the chicken feathers and disemboweled it with hot water, and then took the white-striped chicken to the kitchen to ask for credit from Mrs. Chen.

At first glance, it seemed that my mother was going to give herself extra food.

With a family like this, what more could I ask for?

Zhu Pingan felt that his whole body was full of strength, and his movements were as smooth as running water. (To be continued)

...


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