Chapter 26: Five Years of Tuition Debt

He had no idea that this was nothing less than a death warrant!

Blinded by greed, he immediately poured out all his wealth, even borrowing three large chests of silver from a familiar moneylender overnight. Personally leading a group, he eagerly followed the "map" to "purchase" the land.

The carriage traveled along a narrow mountain path, flanked by dense forests on both sides.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle pierced the night air. Countless torches flared up from the woods, and over a hundred shadowy figures armed with blades encircled the convoy.

At their head stood Gu Changshan, his left shoulder wrapped thickly in bandages, his gaze as sharp as an eagle’s.

The ambush was decisive and unchallenged; the moneylender’s men were routed in an instant.

All three chests of silver were seized, yet the bandit leader spared his life. Instead, in the midst of his terror-stricken gaze, he nailed a note onto the empty carriage, bearing eight bold characters: “Illicit silver confiscated; land restored to original owners!”

The next day, news that the moneylender had been robbed by mountain bandits, losing both goods and silver, struck the entire county like an earthquake of magnitude eight.

The note became widely known, stirring endless gossip among the townsfolk. The county government’s authority plummeted, and the deputy magistrate was so frightened he shut himself indoors.

Within the Yufeng Trading Company, a pall of gloom settled.

At this critical moment, Shen Guilan appeared unhurriedly at the doorstep.

Under the pretext that the embroidery workshop urgently needed funds to support the underwriting of the next batch of embroidery, she exploited the company’s desperation to stabilize morale and maintain appearances, withdrawing from the accounts a sum exactly three times the usual embroidery capital.

That amount was none other than the stolen silver from the previous night.

But once she had the money, Shen Guilan did not use it for herself. Instead, she immediately exchanged it for grain, bricks, and timber.

Her plan was to build a village school, so that the children who had lost the chance to study due to poverty could once again learn.

On a snowy night, the schoolhouse finally took shape.

Gu Changshan personally set the final main beam in place.

Braving the wind and snow, he turned to look at Shen Guilan standing quietly beneath the eaves.

She was looking at him as well, a faint smile touching her lips.

Across the swirling storm, the two exchanged a silent gaze, their eyes sparking with a fire that could melt the harshest winter.

With the new building completed and the school opened, life seemed to return to its former calm.

That night, under the moonlight, Shen Guilan sat by the lamp, carefully reviewing the embroidery workshop’s recent accounts.

Every expenditure on silk and cloth, every income from sold embroidery, was clear and precise.

Her delicate fingers traced the ledger, a small look of satisfaction playing on her lips.

Suddenly, her fingers froze.

Her gaze fixed on a certain page in the account book, where a minuscule yet glaringly inconsistent figure stood out.

The smile on Shen Guilan’s face slowly faded, replaced by a growing sense of confusion.

She picked up an abacus and recalculated, but the results remained unchanged.

Her brows furrowed tighter and tighter, and the last warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a sharp, scrutinizing glare.

The old clan land records beneath her fingertips smelled of mildew. The rows of tiny ink-written characters now felt like a branding iron, scorching her heart.

“Year three of Jingtai, the tutor’s stipend was one tael and two mace of silver per student, paid from the clan’s communal land funds.”

“Year four of Jingtai, the tutor’s stipend was one tael and two mace of silver per student, paid from the clan’s communal land funds.”

For five consecutive years, black on white, the records were clear and unambiguous.

At the end of the volume was a line of bold red ink annotation, as if afraid future generations might not know: “All clan children’s tutor fees are to be paid from communal funds, each household shall not demand additional family contributions!”

Shen Guilan’s breath caught sharply; a thunderous explosion rang in her mind.

She recalled the self-righteous face of Mrs. Zhang every month, recalled the weathered yet precise hand that measured half a dou of rice from her sack, all the while muttering, “This is for your son Yongzhi’s schooling. Widow’s family or not, the child’s future cannot suffer even in hardship!”

A future? What a so-called future!

The land she owned was left by her late husband, the very root of survival for her and her daughter.

Yet for five years, Mrs. Zhang had been clawing grain from her month after month under the pretense of “supporting the scholar,” feeding only her own greedy appetite!

Rage surged within her, threatening to consume her entirely.

Suppressing the turmoil in her heart, she rushed into the inner room and rummaged through a worn wooden chest to find a cloth bundle.

Unwrapping layer after layer, inside were receipts—handwritten by literate neighbors—recording every time she had paid grain over five years.

One, two, three slips... each documented the market value of half a dou of rice.

Her fingers trembled; the beads of the abacus clicked sharply in her mind.

Five years, sixty months, thirty dou of rice.

Calculated at market price, no more, no less, exactly three taels and seven mace of silver.

For five years, the clan had paid six taels of silver for the tutor’s stipend.

Mrs. Zhang, however, had extorted three taels and seven mace of silver from her!

This was no mere tutor’s stipend—it was a full repayment with interest, plus added costs for pen, ink, and paper!

The so-called stipend was a blatant extortion, draining her to the bone.