11: Chapter 11 Confidence Ah_1 11: Chapter 11 Confidence Ah_1 Zhulan was stunned for a moment.
She hadn’t expected him to be such a high-achieving student—specializing in Chinese literature and archaeology, no less.
In ancient times, that was like having a cheat code, considering the high status scholars held among the four classes of society!
Zhulan fell silent, then upon reflection, she wondered if Zhou Shuren, being tied to her in this manner, could be construed as her own golden finger—a cheat of sorts.
With that thought, Zhulan found Zhou Shuren much more agreeable.
Zhou Shuren, who had grown up in an orphanage, had learned to read people’s expressions from a young age and could tell Zhulan was in a good mood.
He breathed a sigh of relief—at least his future teammate seemed to be in good spirits.
“What about you?” he asked.
Zhulan replied, “You already know my age.
My name is the same as the original body’s, Yang Zhulan.
In college, I studied business management, and in modern times, I was a deputy general manager in a company.”
Zhou Shuren understood.
To be a deputy general manager at such a young age indicated that she came from a well-off family.
From his observations, he could infer her family’s wealth, but now it seemed it was more than just wealthy—her family owned mines!
Seeing Zhou Shuren fall silent, Zhulan instantly knew why.
She had met children from orphanages before.
Even the most accomplished among them harbored feelings unlike those who came from intact families.
More commonly, they all shared a sense of inferiority.
Despite Zhou Shuren’s high education, he too was using his accomplishments to cover up his own insecurities.
Zhulan felt it was better to be clear.
“What’s past is past.
Here, we have new identities and a new beginning.
I’m a person with strong principles.
Due to my parents’ divorce, I’ve been independent since I was young.
You can rest assured that in this ancient setting, I might not always be able to help in major ways, but at the very least, I won’t hold you back.”
Zhou Shuren’s eyes flickered.
He understood the message she was conveying—neither was spoiled or ignorant of hardship.
Her childhood, marred by divorce, and his, lacking parents, put them on equal footing, and neither had it better than the other.
The knots in his heart untangled in an instant.
Instead, he felt elated.
No one wanted their teammate to be a liability.
He considered himself to be intelligent and certainly did not want to be dragged down by a fool.
The current arrangement seemed just right, and he felt reassured.
He then shared his own plans.
“I know nothing about farming and won’t be much help in that regard.
But in the seventh year of Emperor Dezong of Tang, there was a Top scorer in the imperial examination who was seventy-one years old.
I’m only thirty-seven—I can definitely give it a shot.
If I’m lucky enough to earn you a decree, you won’t have to be cooped up in the countryside.”
Zhulan raised an eyebrow.
Zhou Shuren was really confident in himself, aiming straight for a decree.
She wasn’t familiar with the decree system of this fictional era.
Well, she didn’t really understand history, either, but a decree would at least mean holding an official position, wouldn’t it?
Zhou Shuren was just a student—an aspiring scholar—who had several stages before he could reach that point!
Zhou Shuren had confidence in his abilities, even in this unfamiliar dynasty, but he had yet to explain the specifics.
He coughed a few times, unable to help himself.
After all, he was ill and talking too much had made his throat uncomfortable.
Zhulan quickly stood up, poured a bowl of water, and handed it to him.
“Let’s not talk about the imperial examination for now.
What matters most at this moment is to get well soon.
Your health is your capital.
I’m not trying to douse your aspirations, but with your poor constitution, enduring the taxing imperial examination won’t be easy.”
Zhou Shuren’s hand, holding the bowl, stiffened.
His original body really wasn’t in good shape.
After all, he was of student lineage and, even when working in the fields, he wasn’t like the strong farmhands.
Plus, ancient scholars rarely exercised.
Approaching forty, he wasn’t getting any younger, and in ancient times, living to be sixty was considered a long life.
He didn’t want to die young.
“I’ll exercise after I recover,” he said.
Zhulan hummed in response, then smacked her forehead, remembering something important she had forgotten.