"Hey...? Why did I fall asleep on the corridor again?" Jiang Hanzhi bounced up from the bluestone floor, rubbing his numb knees and almost sitting down again. She looked up at the copper leak in the corner of the courtyard at exactly three o'clock. She patted the dust on her moon-white skirt, and the half-winter plum embroidery on the cuffs was distorted by the pressure - this was a good omen for admission that her mother had embroidered all night, and now it looked like a rapeseed flower wilted by frost.
In the main hall, his father Jiang Chengyuan's fingers were trembling while holding the Analects of Confucius, and his mother Su Wanniang's copper teapot was tap dancing on the table. Just as Jiang Hanzhi was about to say hello, he saw his father stuffing the note into his sleeve. His movements were as fast as a rat stealing oil, and he almost turned over the book.
"Hanzhi enters Qingyun Hall today, remember to be careful in your words and deeds." His father's voice was an octave lower than usual, like a drake whose throat was pinched. "If you encounter something strange, just keep it in your heart."
She nodded in confusion and turned around. Her forehead hit the door frame with a "thud", and it hurt so much that a string of gold stars like sesame dumplings appeared in front of her eyes. She was holding her bulging belly and was about to hide it with a giggle, when her fingertips touched the notch on the inside of the wooden door - the shape was very similar to the copper token in her father's study, but she didn't know if it could be eaten. After all, she was so hungry that she could swallow a cow.
The large characters on the lintel of Qingyuntang shone coldly in the morning light. Jiang Hanzhi clutched the cloth bag tightly and was about to move his legs when his lower back suddenly hit him and his elbow hit the stone steps heavily. Two women in pink waving their handkerchiefs sneered: "A country bumpkin deserves to be admitted to Qingyuntang?"
