Although Jian Jia was ashamed and annoyed, she still drank the spoonful of medicinal wine. The medical skills of this era were not very developed, and minor illnesses could develop into serious illnesses if they were delayed for a long time. The Qin family lived in the mountains, and it was really difficult to see a doctor because diarrhea was not treated in time, which led to more serious gastroenteritis.
The taste of the medicinal wine was a bit strong, but the effect was very good. Not long after drinking it, her stomach subsided, and then she fell into a drowsy sleep.
It was a dark sleep, and when she woke up, the sun had already risen very high. Jian Jia stood on the corridor and looked at the sky in a daze, "What time is it?"
It's inconvenient not to have a clock. From the time she traveled through time to now, she can only judge the approximate time by the position of the sun and the shadows of trees. Perhaps because of the relationship with the original owner, she felt that her timing was quite accurate. For example, right now, she thought it might be around eight or nine in the morning.
Qin Lang's greeting came to his ears: "Sister, brother left your rice in the pot."
Qin Yi left food? Jian Jia's mind suddenly pictured the unknown color of the batter and the roasted chicken that was burnt on the outside and raw on the inside. She was about to refuse when she heard Qin Lang say: "Brother cooked white rice porridge today."
Jian Jia looked around and heard Qin Lang talking but could not see his figure: "Lang'er, where are you?"
The door to the east wing opened, and the thin Qin Lang got out of the crack in the door: "I'm here."
Jian Jia was very surprised: "Huh? How did you see me?" Qin Lang pursed his lips and pointed at the window next to him.
Jian Jia then discovered that the window covered by debris had opened a small crack, and it was through this crack that Qin Lang saw himself standing in the corridor. Glancing at the east wing, which was almost obscured by debris, Jian Jia touched her chin and said, "Sister, I'll clear away the debris in front of your door later."
For ordinary people, the location of the east wing is very good. But the Qin family is different. There are no windows on the outside of the Qin family. Only in the afternoon can the sunlight shine into Qin Lang's house. Coupled with the clutter, Qin Lang's room was almost dark. He is already weak, and staying in a shaded room for a long time is not good for his health.
Qin Lang raised his head and showed a timid smile: "Thank you, sister."
Just as Qin Lang said, Qin Yi cooked white rice porridge this morning. It's just that Jian Jia got up too late, and the originally thick white porridge was already a bit heavy. But compared to the two meals I had yesterday, the white porridge in the coarse porcelain bowl was delicious.
Jian Jia asked Qin Lang while drinking porridge: "Where is your brother?"
Qin Lang said softly: "Brother hasn't come down from the mountain yet."
As a hunter in the mountains, hunting is Qin Yi's means of survival, and the money earned from hunting prey is the Qin family's main source of income. The prey in the mountains cannot stand there waiting for him to hunt, so it takes him a lot of time to find and kill the prey every day. Whenever he catches the prey, he has to go to the town to sell it immediately, so most of his time He is not at home.
*
Qin Lang is a quiet child. After saying a few words to Jian Jia, he plunged into the house again. When Jian Jia was packing things outside the east wing, apart from occasionally hearing his cough, she could only smell the faint smell of bitter medicine coming from the room.
There were several pieces of worn-out furniture piled under the window sill of the east wing. A corner of the furniture was stuck in the window frame, so that Qin Lang's window could only be opened a crack. Just as Jian Jia was moving the furniture, she glanced toward the window and into the house.
Looking at it, she was surprised to find that Qin Lang was reading and writing in front of the window! The little child was holding a bald pen in his hand, copying one stroke at a time on the rough paper. His back was straight and his posture of holding the pen was decent. He looked serious and was extremely cautious every time he wrote.
At this moment, the expressions of the two Qin brothers were highly overlapping, which fully proved the wonder of blood ties. Seeing Qin Lang with a straight face, Jian Jia could already foresee that he would be another Qin Yi when he grew up. Thinking of this, she couldn't help but chuckle.
The laughter alarmed Qin Lang. He quickly put down the pen in his hand and said sheepishly: "Sister, do you need my help?"
Jian Jia smiled and said warmly: "No need to help, I didn't expect Lang'er to have already started practicing calligraphy. What books have you read?"
Qin Lang lowered his head and rubbed the hem of his clothes with his thin fingers. His voice was as low as a gnat: "I didn't read anything, so I just read..."
Jian Jia chuckled, why does this child look like a frightened little animal? Reading and practicing calligraphy is a good thing, why is he still afraid of doing it? It's just that this child is too careless. If he reads in a dark room at a young age, his eyes will not be able to stand it in the future.
Jian Jia quickly walked into Qin Lang's house. As soon as she opened the door of the east wing, a bitter smell of Chinese medicine came to her face. The sun is shining brightly outside, but the light inside the house is very dark.
Jian Jia stood still for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the light in the room. After her eyes adjusted, she looked around and took in Qin Lang's room layout.
There are only four pieces of furniture in Qin Lang's room. In addition to the small bed against the wall and a closed wardrobe, there is only a small desk next to the window sill and an overly tall square stool.
There are several thin books placed in the upper left corner of the narrow desk. The top one has no cover. The yellowed pages are rolled up and have been turned over countless times. In the upper right corner is an inkstone as big as a fist. There is no ink in the inkstone, only a pool of dark liquid, which is lighter than the water the original owner used to wash the brush. There is a one-foot-long writing brush placed on the inkstone. There is no pen string or pen hanger for hanging. There is only a patinated pen barrel and a cracked pen barrel. The hair on the tip of the pen is so bald that only a few sparse hairs are left. .
What occupies the largest area of the desk is stacked jute paper, and each piece of jute paper is densely written with words. Deep and light ink stains dye the jute paper brown.
Jian Jia's eyes fell on the jute paper spread out on the table. The scratches on the jute paper were still wet, making the words he just wrote darker than the other words. It didn't matter if she didn't read it. She was even more surprised when she saw it. Qin Lang's handwriting was actually very neat, at least much better than the original owner and himself who were half-hearted.
Her eyes turned around the pages of the book several times, and she sincerely praised: "Lang'er is amazing!" She picked up these books and flipped through them. They were all children's enlightenment textbooks. The first two books were torn. One is the "Three Character Classic" and the other is the "Thousand Character Classic".
There are many people in Dajing who are illiterate. First, they cannot afford to go to private schools. Second, many people have no awareness of reading. This is the case in Jianjia Village, where the original owner lives. There are twenty or thirty children in one village, and one person who can read can count them on one hand.
And not all of these children who can go to school can calm down and study. They are too young. Compared with sitting in the school and listening to the master's instructions, their hearts are like kites in spring, and they yearn for the vast sky outside the school. However, the young Qin Lang was able to read and practice calligraphy without the constraints of adults and masters, and he also learned well...
This kid has talent!
Looking back on the original work, it seems that there is no mention of Qin Lang's literacy. But Jian Jia soon felt relieved. Even the original protagonist was a vicious female supporting character sketched in a few simple strokes, let alone Qin Lang, an NPC who didn't even have a name.
Qin Lang's face turned red and his head hung lower: "I'm sorry, sister, I will listen to you in the future. You, can you leave these books to me? I will never practice when you are busy again. The word is gone…”
Jian Jia:? ? ?
Looking at the dejected little Qin Lang, Jian Jia lowered her head and began to think seriously. Did she just say something that caused the child to misunderstand? Or maybe his actions made him think too much? Although she is not a top student herself, she has always felt that knowledge is important. It is a good thing that Qin Lang loves reading. She admires and respects scholars.
After thinking for a moment, Jian Jia put down the book, touched Qin Lang's soft hair, and left quickly.
Hearing Jian Jia's footsteps disappear, Qin Lang's eyes began to turn red. It's all because I'm too weak to help my brother, but I didn't help sister Jian Jia when she was busy.
The thin hand gently fell on the scrolled book. Qin Lang pursed his lips and thought of what his former friend said to him: "My father said that we are just mud-legged people. No matter how many books we read and how many words we write, , I still have to go home and farm. Qin Lang, your family’s conditions are even worse than mine, and you can’t get ahead in school.”
Qin Lang sniffed, and tears welled up in his red eyes. My friend was actually right, he couldn't read it. His body was so weak that he couldn't climb two mountains, and he couldn't lift it with his hands or carry it on his shoulders. The money from his brother's hard-earned hunting sales had to buy him medicine to recuperate his body.
He can't read well, and his life is a drag. Without me, my mother and father might still be alive and well, and my brother would have a better future...
"Langer, make way!" Jian Jia's voice came to his ears. Qin Lang looked up and saw Jian Jia dragging a large table through the door with difficulty. She was carrying a big package behind her, "Here. , come on, give way~"
The narrow desk under the window sill turned into a large desk exuding the fragrance of camphor wood. The smooth tabletop was warm and flat in texture. The stable desk does not shake when placed on the dirt floor, and it will not fall over even if Qin Lang presses hard. Jian Jia put everything on the small desk back on the desk. In Qin Lang's stunned eyes, she untied the big package behind her: "Lang'er, come here, sister will give you something."
The items in the package were originally given to Xu Lingsheng by the original owner. Xu Lingsheng was a scholar, so there were many things that Qin Lang could use, such as this azure inkstone and the rosin-scented ink block used with the inkstone, as well as this A stack of rice paper as white as brocade, and this set of well-made wolf brushes... these things now belong to Qin Lang.
Qin Lang stood beside the table in a daze, watching blankly as Jian Jia took out a pair of felt socks from the package.
Jian Jia twisted the obstructive front part of the felt stockings in twos and twos, leaving only the cylindrical part at the back. Expand the cylinder to reveal the white fluff inside, and half of the felt sock becomes an almost square fluffy pad.
Jian Jia spread the plush cushion on the square stool and carefully tied it to the legs of the square stool with the two bags that came with it. After arranging Qin Lang's desk, she pushed open the large window facing the west.
The fresh wind brought the breath of sunshine into the house from the window, and the bitter medicinal smell in the dark room was much washed away. Jian Jia slowly rewrapped the package, feeling the breeze blowing on her face. At the same time, she did not forget to remind Qin Lang: "Lang'er, remember, don't read and practice calligraphy in places where the light is too dark or too bright. This is not good for your eyes. Read and practice The writing time should not be too long, and you should balance work with rest, and take a rest when you feel tired."
After saying that, she lowered her head and smiled brightly at Qin Lang: "Our Lang'er is so smart and serious, he may become the number one scholar in the future!"
Qin Lang's pupils suddenly dilated, and Jian Jia's face was clearly reflected in the clear pupils. Jian Jia's determined voice echoed in his ears, and the deep and repetitive voice of his friend in his memory was overshadowed by the words "Number One Scholar".
Two bright lights slowly appeared in Qin Lang's eyes, his lips moved, and his trembling hands clenched slowly and firmly.
