Chapter 75: Recruiting Students

Chapter 75: Enrollment

The Yan family didn't hurry back to the countryside after arriving in the city. Yan Fengan and Wen Xi had just moved in, and there was a mountain of work to do—for both the school and the house.

Early that morning, Yan Wangchun and Yan Fuqiu headed to the firewood market, buying several bundles of firewood and charcoal for heating. Chen Lanfang also took her daughters-in-law to the nearby vegetable market to get their bearings, getting a rough idea of which stalls sold vegetables, meat, and grain.

Firewood, rice, oil, and salt were the foundations of a household. Once they knew the area well, Wen Xi would have an easier time running errands in the future.

Yan Fengan carried his calligraphy samples to a signboard shop in the city, asking the craftsmen to carve the characters "Mingzheng Private School" onto a wooden plaque based on his handwriting.

The custom-made wooden plaque would take a while to complete. The shopkeeper took down his address and promised to deliver it to his door in ten days.

Since the whole family was in town and there were plenty of hands, Yan Fengan returned to the house, laid out paper, ground ink, and wrote out dozens of enrollment notices.

Once the ink dried, he posted one at the private school's entrance and another at the mouth of the alley. The rest were taken by Yan Wangchun and Yan Fuqiu to post at the docks, the vegetable market, and the city gates—wherever crowds gathered.

As soon as the notices went up, a large crowd gathered around. Someone who could read stepped forward and recited: "Newly passed Juren Yan Fengan establishes a school south of the city, offering two tracks: elementary studies and classics studies. All who aspire to learn, regardless of age, may come to inquire in person. Location: Inside Tingyu Alley, south of the city."

Afraid people wouldn't understand, he helpfully explained: "It means the newly passed Juren Yan is opening a private school in Tingyu Alley south of the city. If anyone has children who want to study, they can go there to sign up."

A woman holding a child pushed to the front: "Does it say how much the tuition is?"

The man reading the notice shook his head: "It doesn't say. If you want to send your child, you can go to Tingyu Alley and ask."

Someone nearby chimed in: "Lessons taught by His Honor the Juren—ordinary folks probably can't afford it. I think we shouldn't even think about it."

Another person stared at the characters on the notice for a long while and said, "These characters are written so neatly. No wonder he passed the imperial exam. My little one is just at the age to start elementary studies. I'll bring him tomorrow to ask."

A little girl with her hair in double buns tugged at her father's sleeve: "Dad, I want to go study with His Honor the Juren too."

Her father bent down, scooped her up, and laughed: "I don't know if he takes girls. If he does, I'll send you too."

On the question of whether the school accepted girls and young lads, Wen Xi had also asked Yan Fengan. Although only men could sit for the imperial examinations in the Great Zhou dynasty, some well-off families did send their daughters and younger sons to private schools to learn a few characters and some principles.

Yan Fengan had thought it over. The Classics Class had a clear purpose—it took students preparing for the imperial exams, and these students were generally older, so it wasn't suitable for women and young lads.

The elementary class took children under ten, so gender restrictions didn't need to be as strict.

As long as the family was willing to pay for the education, he was willing to take them.

As for how much tuition to charge, Yan Fengan had calculated carefully. Official elementary schools charged twenty taels a year, classics schools thirty. Private schools were much cheaper—those run by ordinary xiucai (scholars who passed the county exam) charged at most two or three taels.

As the only juren in the city running a private school, Yan Fengan couldn't set his tuition too low, or he'd be lowering his own status.

He came from poverty and knew how hard it was for ordinary families to support a child's education. After discussing with Wen Xi, he settled on five taels a year for the elementary class and ten taels for the classics class.

If a classics class student could pass the entrance exam, their tuition would be halved.

On the day the notices went up, Yan Fengan and Wen Xi moved desks and chairs into the east wing of the school, prepared brushes, ink, and a registration book, and waited for people to come sign up.

The first to arrive were Manager Zhao from the money shop and Manager Wang from the cloth shop, each bringing two children—one their own son, one a nephew from a close branch of the family—both around twelve or thirteen years old.

Yan Fengan first had them recite several passages from the Analects. After listening, he nodded: "Recited well. My exam-prep class focuses on the Four Books and eight-part essays, plus training in analyzing essay prompts and writing policy essays. Three days after the school opens in the first month, there'll be a placement exam. After that, weekly assignments and monthly tests. This school runs on results—no matter whose child it is, everyone is treated equally. If you gentlemen confirm your enrollment, you need to be sure you can handle it."

"We can handle it, we can handle it!" Manager Zhao and Manager Wang answered eagerly. "Our children have been able to endure hardship since they were young. They'll behave here and won't cause any trouble for Juren Yan."

Yan Fengan looked at the richly dressed youths and asked again: "Can you really handle it?"

Under the urging of the two managers, they nodded vaguely. Manager Zhao said, "See? I told you they can do it. How much is the tuition?"

Yan Fengan said: "Ten taels a year for the classics class."

Manager Zhao immediately took two silver ingots from his sleeve and placed them on the table: "That's a year's tuition. Please accept it, Juren Yan. My son and nephew are in your care from now on."

Yan Fengan recorded their names and explained the rules: "Then it's settled. The school opens on the twentieth day of the first lunar month next year—just come to class then. Also, my policy is that children attend free for the first month. If after a month you feel it's not a good fit and withdraw, the tuition will be refunded in full. After that period, no refunds."

Though the children all thought they could stick with it when they signed up, the path of study had hardships that ordinary people couldn't imagine.

To prevent disputes later, Yan Fengan wrote all of this into the registration book and had every parent who signed up press their thumbprint.

Manager Zhao and Manager Wang each pressed theirs, exchanged a few pleasantries, and left with the children.

Wen Xi tucked the four silver ingots into his money pouch and was about to say something when a young husband came over bringing a little lad of six or seven. The boy hid behind him, peeking out with half his face to study Yan Fengan and Wen Xi.

This young husband ran a food stall on the main street south of the city. He wanted to send his son to Yan Fengan to learn arithmetic so he could help mind the stall in the future.

For the elementary class, Yan Fengan had no requirements. Whether or not the children had any prior foundation, his school would start from the simplest Thousand Character Classic and Three Character Classic.

However, his focus was on the classics class. If too many students enrolled, he estimated he'd need to hire another xiucai from outside to teach the elementary class—this was something he had to make clear upfront.

When the young husband heard someone else would be teaching, his face changed, and he muttered: "We're all signing up because of Juren Yan's reputation. If the children aren't taught by you personally, what's the difference from going to another private school? Those places charge even less tuition."

Yan Fengan said: "The daily lessons for the elementary class will be handled by another teacher, but I'll give at least three major lectures to the children every month. If you still don't think it's suitable, you're free to look elsewhere."

The young husband hesitated for a moment, then decided to enroll anyway: "You'd better not cheat us."

Yan Fengan understood their caution: "This is something the children can easily verify when they go home—what would be the point of lying? Don't worry. Once the school officially opens, the schedule will be posted at the entrance."

Hearing this, the young husband felt reassured. He fished out loose silver and copper coins from his money pouch, counted them out, and placed them on the table.

After he left with the little lad, Wen Xi collected the money and asked Yan Fengan: "Who do you plan to hire to teach?"

"Not decided yet. When I have time, I'll go ask Fang Mutian. If he's willing, I'll invite him to teach at my school. If he's busy with something else, I'll look for someone else. There are quite a few xiucai in our county. Let's wait and see how many students enroll."

His tuition was higher than other private schools, and some who found the price too high didn't enroll.

But overall, enrollment was better than he expected.

The classics class had about thirteen students counting Lu Xiuyuan and Lin Hongwen. The elementary class had two little girls and three young lads, plus seven little boys. Together, the two classes totaled twenty-five students.

That made it a medium-sized private school.

In the first year, it was important to show results. Having too many students wasn't necessarily good. Once he was satisfied with the numbers, Yan Fengan stopped enrolling.

Two students in the classics class came from struggling families. After they passed the entrance exam, Yan Fengan waived their tuition, on the condition that they handle sweeping and organizing books at the school.

The combined tuition from both classes came to one hundred seventy taels—not counting holiday gifts. This one sum alone had already earned back what they'd spent on both houses.

When they returned to the house to put the money away, Wen Xi held the money box and laughed. Yan Fengan walked over, sat down beside him, and said: "So, what do you think? Don't you think I make money much more easily than you?"

Though happy inside, Wen Xi didn't see it that way. He shook his head: "My embroidery takes time and effort, but it's a one-off sale—as long as the quality is good, once it sells, I don't have to worry. Teaching and raising students is the most demanding work. You've taken so much money from these people—you'll have plenty of headaches coming."

Yan Fengan leaned his head on Wen Xi's shoulder and laughed: "My head hurts right now. Rub it for me."

His hands were dirty from handling the silver—there was no way he'd touch his forehead or head with those. Wen Xi pursed his lips and pressed a kiss to his cheek, asking: "Does it hurt now?"

Yan Fengan pointed to his lips: "It hurts here too."

Wen Xi leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of Yan Fengan's lips. As soon as their lips met, Yan Fengan cupped his face and kissed him deeply.

Now that the two of them had this big house all to themselves, they could be as affectionate as they wanted without worrying about being seen. Wen Xi felt at ease—yet for some reason, his thoughts drifted back to the contents of that little booklet from before.

Though he hadn't flipped through it often, he had those contents memorized: by the rockery, beside the latticed window, in the garden, at the base of the wall—they covered every possible spot.

When he'd first read it, Wen Xi had thought to himself, these people were truly bold, carrying on right out in broad daylight—what if somebody saw them?

Now that he lived in such a courtyard himself, he realized those drawings were probably exaggerated, but if you were careful, you might not get caught after all.

The two of them had already done everything there was to do; Wen Xi was no longer the type to blush at a mere kiss. Yet somehow, this time, his face flushed crimson, and even his ears felt like they were on fire.

Yan Fengan noticed his odd expression and gave his lip a little bite. "What are you over there daydreaming about?"

Wen Xi pushed him away, turning his head aside with his cheeks still blazing. "The west wing has good light—I want to clear it out and turn it into a sewing room."

Some time ago, he'd already hauled his cart back from the bookshop, and now that they had their own home in the city, whether he was selling at his stall or taking custom orders, it was way more convenient than before.

Yan Fengan knew he was changing the subject, but he didn't call him out on it or tease him. He just went along with it: "Aside from the east wing where we sleep, you can remodel any other space however you like—even if you filled the whole place with your embroidery, I wouldn't mind."

Seeing Wen Xi about to say more, Yan Fengan continued, "There are spare rooms at the academy too. If the house ever gets crowded, your parents and mine can stay over there."

Though they'd joked earlier about living together, the family was only going to get bigger, and one residence wouldn't suffice in the long run. If family came to the city for a short visit, either place would work, but if they truly moved here permanently, another house would need to be purchased.

Yan Fengan had already planned it out—the houses nearby were still empty, and once the academy was up and running, he'd ask around. Even if the whole family couldn't share one roof, living on the same street so they could look out for each other would be perfect.

"You already have many regular clients now. Next time you take their orders, mention that you have an embroidery shop on Tingyu Lane and they can come find you there if they need anything."

Yan Fengan's mind never stopped turning—how to settle the family, how to keep Wen Xi's business steady, how to run the academy. He'd thought through every last detail.

The heat in Wen Xi's face gradually subsided, and he blinked. "What embroidery shop? I don't have one."

Yan Fengan said lightly, "I'll hang a sign for an embroidery shop at the door—then you'll have one."

Wen Xi hesitated. "Wouldn't it be weird to turn our own home into a shop?"

Yan Fengan replied, "It's not as serious as you think. You'll take commissions the same way as before—this just lets clients know where to find you. What you can't finish or don't want to do, you can still pass to the villagers. I'll also hire a young servant to handle deliveries and errands for you—that'll make things much easier."

Wen Xi loved embroidery and had a fine hand for it; now that they'd moved to the city, Yan Fengan had no intention of letting that skill go to waste.

The shop wouldn't be like the big embroidery houses—no need to display finished pieces for customers to browse. Wen Xi could simply work as he always had, starting a piece only after receiving an order. That way, he'd earn money while staying relaxed.

Wen Xi found himself tempted by the idea. Since Yan Fengan didn't mind the home doubling as a shop, there was no reason to worry. He said, "Then you should give my embroidery shop a name."

Yan Fengan replied lazily, "It's your shop—why ask me to name it?"

"Because you're my husband." Wen Xi, heedless of his dirty hands, tugged at Yan Fengan's sleeve and gave it a gentle shake, softening his voice into a coaxing plea. "You're a juren—a man of learning. Whatever name you pick will sound better than anyone else's."

Yan Fengan looked down at him, deliberately playing hard to get. "A name from Master Juren doesn't come cheap. If you want me to name it, you'll have to offer something in return, won't you?"

Wen Xi draped his arm over Yan Fengan's shoulder, rose on his tiptoes, and leaned in until their breaths mingled. With a smile, he left a featherlight kiss at the corner of Yan Fengan's lips. "How about a kiss?"

Yan Fengan said nothing, only smiling as he wrapped both arms around Wen Xi and drew him fully into his embrace.

Author's note:

Little Yan: Just kidding—I'd have named it even without the kiss.