Transmigrated as a Stepmother: Time to Bring the Family to Prosper!-Chapter 331 - 330: Such Indulgence

The next day, indeed, the sky was overcast.

Early in the morning, Qin Yao heard Liu Ji, who was chased out of the room by Gongliang Liao to study and build his Qi, sneezing several times in succession.

Today is a day off from the academy, so the four children do not need to attend.

Da Lang followed Ah Wang to practice martial arts, while Second Lang, fearing to disturb the cohabiting Qi Xian, was preparing to sneak out to study, but Qi Xian called him back.

Thus, the two of them sat together at the large desk in the room, one reading silently, the other reading a book.

Gongliang Liao’s teaching method differed significantly from the academy teachers, leading students to the door, with progress relying on individual initiative and comprehension.

While also serving as a living encyclopedia, students self-study and seek him out when encountering difficulties.

However, with Liu Ji, Gongliang Liao had to pay extra attention due to his extremely poor foundation, not wanting Liu Ji’s lack of knowledge to tarnish his teaching reputation.

Thus, starting with cultivating energy and spirit was essential for subsequent efficient progress.

The Six Arts of the Gentleman: rites, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, mathematics; Gongliang Liao excelled in calligraphy, charioteering, archery, and mathematics, expecting his students to at least master these four art forms, if not all six, to be recognized as a student under "the renowned scholar Gongliang Liao."

Several idle days passed, and with the weather turning cloudy, there was no desire to go outside. Since there was nothing else to do, they decided to use Qin Yao’s abacus after breakfast to test Liu Ji’s arithmetic level.

In Gongliang Liao’s view, arithmetic was the most formidable skill among the Six Arts.

Mathematics could be arithmetic, calculus, depending on the user’s application.

The most precise calculations could determine a nation’s fate, the population of the world, the amount of land per person, and the yield of each acre.

How this produce is distributed for military expenses, officials’ salaries, and people’s livelihoods involves many intricacies.

The finest mathematician is akin to a ruler over ten thousand people.

If the nation’s ruler couldn’t even calculate their population and land, the country would be on the brink of collapse.

"For a ten-man deployment, calculate how much it would cost," Gongliang Liao, seated in a wheelchair, casually asked with a smile as he ate the seeds prepared by the Attendant Student.

Liu Ji picked up the abacus, calculated a figure swiftly, "A ten-man operation isn’t really a battle; it’s more like a border patrol squad unexpectedly encountering foreign scouts, chasing them on horseback. It wouldn’t even last a day; I’ll estimate half a day for them."

"The army stationed at the border primarily self-sustains, horses aren’t specialized, cavalry wears light armor, light armor is self-provided by enlisted soldiers, so the half-day expenditure is minimal, with zero monetary cost."

Qi Xian, listening nearby, almost choked on his tea, muttering softly, "Utter nonsense."

Gongliang Liao chuckled, "You do make some fair points."

Qi Xian was rendered speechless, knowing the teacher was particularly lenient towards Liu Ji due to his lack of foundation, yet didn’t expect such indulgence!

Gongliang Liao glanced at him, "I see Da Lang from Liu Ji’s family practicing martial arts in the back courtyard, you should also go and train."

Qi Xian was momentarily startled, realized the teacher referred to him, sighed helplessly, put down the tea, and agreed before heading out.

He practiced swordsmanship, at a relatively basic level; Shi Tou, the part-time instructor, remarked on his lack of martial talent, saying only through hard work could he achieve true proficiency.

Clearly, Qi Xian struggled with enduring the hardship. Most people struggle with the pain of martial training, let alone someone without inherent talent.

Gongliang Liao, understanding his circumstance, suggested sword practice as an activity, simultaneously fostering energy and spirit.

Youngsters, at a tender age, can’t dedicate entire days merely to reading and writing; physical health remains their primary asset.

Gongliang Liao glanced at his own legs, disappointedly sighed, and instructed the courtyard, "Practice for one hour!"

Shi Tou acknowledged with a bow, turning towards his young master who reluctantly smiled at him, "Master, pardon my offense!"

So, master and servant began training. Fortunately, the martial practice space in Qin Yao’s family backyard was spacious, not affecting Ah Wang and Da Lang.

Yet, while the ’masters’ taught, they were captivated by each other’s students.

Qi Xian had practiced swordsmanship for two years, yet his moves weren’t entirely familiar, and his foundation was weak; after wielding his handy sword for a quarter-hour, he began to slack off.

Ah Wang noticed it and chuckled softly.

He said nothing more, but treated his own ’disciple’ more sternly, "Once more on the Basic Fist Technique One."

Ah Wang assigned numbers to each fist set, without any flashy martial art names.

First, to conceal their origins, second simply because that’s how it was taught in their Death Soldier Camp.

Da Lang did not mind, as long as it was easy to remember.

The focus now was, having finished the supposed training, allowed a half-hour rest.

Yet, with Ah Wang’s casual, "Once more," Da Lang could only wish to shout to the sky: Just let me die!

Previously following Aunt Yao’s training, he already felt it was hard; only after joining Ah Wang did he realize how light the previous training was!

With Aunt Yao, daily was merely running, strength, and endurance training—tedious yet without painful hardship.

Ah Wang, however, taught each punch once, letting him remember; any failure to recall when requesting a replay met with a punitive "twenty swings with a stick."

A meter-long, arm-thick club found in the mountain, made from the densest wood sinking immediately when thrown into the river, twenty swings nearly rendered one’s arms half-useless.

Da Lang still recalled vividly the bitter taste of his first-day punishment, crouching at the stationery shop’s door by evening, sorrowfully requesting a different tutor from Qin Yao.

Of course, worse felt when Aunt Yao told him, "Persist or quit—your choice."

Da Lang sighed deeply in frustration, having trained anyhow, determined to see it through even if on the knees!

Permitting himself a sip of water before extra practice was met with Ah Wang’s firm rejection; Da Lang removed his soaked shirt, bare-chested, and despondently re-engaged in Basic Fist Technique One.

Shi Tou sympathetically hissed.

He knew Ah Wang wasn’t a simple servant, yet didn’t expect his simple-looking face to conceal such a ruthless heart.

Witnessing Da Lang, sweat dripping yet each move robust, not daring a slight error.

Contrasting himself, sword unable to raise shoulder-high, clearly perfunctory, yet face rosy, Qi Xian.

Shi Tou realized something—perhaps, probably, presuming Qi Xian’s poor swordsmanship was due to insufficient grit.

Hearing Ah Wang’s ambiguous "Heh," Shi Tou suddenly suggested, "Master, if you can’t raise the sword shoulder-high today, how about an extra hour of practice?"

Qi Xian, counting seconds, widened eyes in disbelief: Do you no longer want this month’s salary?!