On the day when I was seven years old, my father pointed at the portrait of Wen Kuixing and asked me to kowtow.
"Three generations of landowners in the Shen family are only one short of you, a Jinshi, to bring glory to our ancestors."
I tore up the "Four Books" and peeked at the "Shui Jing Zhu". My palms were red and swollen but I didn't regret it.
At the age of 20, he failed the college entrance examination, but in the brothel he heard a salt merchant boast: "It's more cost-effective to raise a juren than a mule."
At the age of 30, I became the largest "manufacturer of lifting people" in Jiangnan, with food, accommodation and monthly payments included.
At the fortieth birthday party, my son threw the gift in front of everyone: "Dad, what kind of knowledge are you selling?"
On the day I turned fifty, the people from the new imperial examination brought me a golden plaque to thank me for cultivating me.
> Touching the remaining pages of "Shui Jing Zhu" in my sleeve, I heard the salesman outside the wall shouting——
"Selling - whetstone -"
