Chapter 44: Finding Coal

Chapter 44: Finding Coal

Ordinarily dispersed throughout the village, it wasn't apparent, but gathered together today, Zhao An realized there were over a hundred children.

More than a hundred untrained children, along with adults who had no real intention of learning and were merely there for the spectacle, quickly turned the Liu Clan Ancestral Hall into utter chaos.

When Zhao An approached the makeshift blackboard, temporarily painted with tung oil, some mischievous older children stood up and shouted, "Eldest Young Master Zhao, what are you going to teach us today?"

The parents standing at the back burst into laughter, though it was unclear what was so amusing. Perhaps for them, any occasion that brought people together was cause for merriment.

Zhao An had to raise his pointer and tap the blackboard. Only after everyone quieted down did he solemnly declare, "From now on, don't call me Eldest Young Master Zhao—call me Teacher. And when asking questions, you must raise your hand and wait for my permission before standing up to speak."

"Is that clear?" Zhao An tried to project authority, constantly emphasizing the importance of discipline to his students.

Those seated on the dirt ground outside the ancestral hall, seeing his serious expression, became much more subdued. Still, their responses of "Understood" were uneven and disorganized.

Zhao An repeated the question several times until their replies were clear and unified. Only then did he begin the first lesson: "Today, I will teach just eight characters: Heaven, Earth, Sun, Moon, Mountain, River, Lake, Sea."

He wrote the eight Chinese characters on the blackboard with lime, explaining the meaning of each, how to form words and sentences, and writing everything on the board.

By the time he finished explaining, nearly half an hour had passed. He paused, raised his pointer again, and indicated the eight characters at the top, saying, "Repeat after me: Heaven, Earth, Sun, Moon, Mountain, River, Lake, Sea."

After the nearly two hundred men, women, and children below finished reciting in unison, he said, "Now, all students, write these eight characters three times on the ground in front of you. This morning's class will then be over."

This final task was essentially homework, as he had already taught everyone the strokes and stroke order of each character during his explanation.

However, in his very first class, Zhao An seemed to have already adopted the teachers' habit of extending lessons. As everyone began writing, he added, "This afternoon, there will be an arithmetic class taught by Qintong. Anyone who wishes to learn bookkeeping, regardless of age or gender, is welcome to attend. From now on, I will teach language every morning, and Qintong will teach mathematics every afternoon. Remember to come to class on time."

Zhao An was providing only the most basic literacy education, so from the outset, he didn't teach the era's common primers, such as *Heaven and Earth, Mystic and Yellow, Universe Vast and Primordial*. Instead, he planned to first teach the simplest and most commonly used characters to spark interest. Then, he would introduce the names and writing of grains, vegetables, and fruits, gradually progressing to the simplest five- and seven-character quatrains, like *Sympathy for the Farmers* and *Thoughts on a Quiet Night*. By that point, he would teach them to write short compositions, such as "My Family’s Yellow Dog" or "Massaging My Father’s Shoulders." After a winter of learning like this, everyone would at least be able to write basic vernacular texts, and writing letters to each other should no longer be a problem.

And so, Zhao An dedicated himself wholeheartedly to education. Even though he only taught one class a day, he prepared his lessons diligently. As the weather grew colder, people no longer dared to sit directly on the ground in the open yard. When Zhao An noticed some bringing wooden stools, others woven mats, and even odd items like a large turtle shell to class, he finally realized the village needed to build a school that could at least provide shelter from the wind and rain.

Coincidentally, his own house was now completed and only needed some time to air out before moving in. It was the perfect opportunity to have the villagers continue their efforts and build a school for the village. Once the school was finished, those who built it could form a new class and continue learning the basics of language and mathematics.

As Zhao An lay in bed tossing and turning over these thoughts, Hu Sheng finally pressed him down onto the bed and gave him a sharp smack on the bottom. "Restless again? Can’t you just sleep properly?"

Zhao An felt a stinging pain in his rear and bit Hu Sheng’s arm in response. "You hit too hard! Be careful not to break anything."

Hu Sheng said, "Let me see if it’s broken."

Whether Zhao An ended up showing him remains unknown, as they pulled up the covers, and no one could see.

Just as Zhao An thought these joyful and meaningful days would continue, the next morning, one of Hu Sheng’s trading subordinates suddenly returned to report that the trade team sent to Nanyue Country had clashed with the local garrison.

The reason was that the border army commander, who had agreed with Li Dake to exchange ceramics and silk for sugar, tried to seize their goods without giving them the promised sugar.

It turned out this border commander couldn’t control his soldiers, so within over a month, he hadn't gathered enough goods for the trade. Instead, he chose what he thought was the simpler solution: killing and plundering.

Hearing this news, Zhao An grew anxious, but Hu Sheng calmly asked, "Did we win?"

The messenger wiped the sweat from his face and grinned. "Yes, we took over that entire area. Unfortunately, over a hundred of our brothers died, and more than seventy were disabled."

Hu Sheng nodded and said, "Tell Li Dake to give thirty taels of silver to the families of those who died. For the disabled, grant them twenty acres of land locally so they have a place to settle and make a living."

He then called for Ma Chuan and ordered him to lead another thousand men to secure the area Li Dake had just captured. They were to surrender to the king of Nanyue, offering to serve as mercenaries to help guard the border.

Watching Hu Sheng methodically arrange everything, Zhao An was struck by the powerful, commanding aura he exuded—both charismatic and captivating.

After Ma Chuan left with his men, Hu Sheng held Zhao An and said, "Most of the several thousand people in the stronghold now were under Ma Chuan’s father. Sending him out this time is also a test, so I need to follow behind him to Nanyue with some men."

Zhao An was no longer a child and couldn’t insist on following Hu Sheng. Biting his lip, he said in as calm a tone as possible, "Go ahead. The house is finished, and I’ll wait for you at home."

Despite his words, Zhao An clung tightly to Hu Sheng, listening to his pounding heartbeat, feeling his body gradually change, and his own body responding in kind. All their emotions mingled in ragged cries and sweat that soaked the bed.

That day, Zhao An skipped class. When Qintong saw he hadn’t come down from the mountain for a long time, he had to go to the classroom and tell the students, "Teacher Zhao isn’t feeling well today, so I’ll be teaching language class. First, let’s read *On the Stork Tower* together: The sun along the mountain bows; the Yellow River seawards flows…"

The day after Hu Sheng left, Zhao An moved down from the mountain and into his new house. A two-story brick-and-tile building, it lacked concrete floors, instead using logs as thick as bowls to form the floorboards, with flat wooden planks nailed on top. The top floor had a mulberry paper ceiling, and the walls were coated with white lime. With large double-opening windows, it was quite livable—at least brighter than the previous courtyard.

The courtyard had also doubled in size. Besides the original brick-paved small yard, a small garden had been dug out, though no flowers were planted yet. Zhao An planned to use it as a secret experimental plot in the future.

The old small house had felt cramped and oppressive, but now, in this big house without his loved one, he only felt empty and lonely.

Fortunately, he still had to teach the villagers to read every day; otherwise, he might have developed psychological issues. One day, while reading a student’s excellent essay, "Feeding Worms to My Family’s Chickens," he heard the clip-clop of horse hooves.

He immediately put down the hemp paper and walked out of the newly built classroom to see if it was Hu Sheng returning. But in his heart, he knew it was probably too soon—Hu Sheng had only been gone for over ten days, and even riding nonstop, it would take over a month to return from Nanyue.

Even if he hadn't returned, he might have sent letters along the way.

However, when he rushed out, he was disappointed to recognize the rider as Zhang Wei, the leader of the dozen men Hu Sheng had sent earlier to find coal.

If he had heard news about coal before Hu Sheng left, he would have been overjoyed. But now, his heart was calm. Just like eight days earlier, when the sweet potatoes on the mountain were finally harvested—after planting improved sweet potato vines three times across forty acres, yielding nearly seventy thousand *jin*, filling six storehouses—it hadn't lifted his spirits.

Reason told him he shouldn’t be so lovesick, but he couldn’t control his mind, always thinking of Hu Sheng. Thankfully, not all his reason had deserted him; he knew there was still much he could do.

Zhao An first arranged for Zhang Wei, who had rushed back post-haste, to get something to eat. Then he went to inspect the coal samples brought back from Qianzhou—a black stone with fine, glimmering specks.

Confirming it was indeed coal, he had it ground into powder with a millstone, mixed with soil to form briquettes, and then lit a stove to warm the classroom.

But when Zhang Wei, who had brought back the coal, saw him light the briquettes and place them in a classroom full of children, he panicked and shouted, "That thing is poisonous when burned—it can kill people!"

Yelling, he rushed into the classroom, carried the stove out to the square, and scowled at Zhao An, who followed him out. "Young Master Zhao, didn’t you say this black stone was for kiln firing? Why use it for heating? We have plenty of firewood here—we really can’t use this deadly stuff."

It was because they knew Zhao An wanted the black stone for kiln firing that Zhang Wei and the others hadn't paid attention when locals said burning it could kill. They never expected Zhao An to use it directly for heating upon its return.

Zhao An could only explain, "Burning coal can indeed cause poisoning, but it’s not the coal itself—it’s the fumes. Even burning wood produces smoke. As long as you ensure ventilation, there’s no risk of poisoning. Look at our classroom—it only has half-walls, so there’s no worry about carbon monoxide poisoning."

Zhao An hadn't wanted the classroom to be so rudimentary, but the villagers felt that a few brick pillars and a simple thatched roof were enough for a classroom. After all, it wasn't a formal school, and besides Zhao An, the teacher was Qintong, a servant.

The compromise was building half-walls with a wooden roof—both well-lit and material-efficient.

Even after Zhao An’s explanation, Zhang Wei remained skeptical until they conducted an experiment: placing the coal stove in a chicken coop.

After one class, they opened the coop to find all the chicks huddled near the stove for warmth. The next day, the chicks were still lively, and only then did Zhang Wei believe Zhao An.

He took ten men back to Qianzhou to buy more coal, planning to bring it to the mountain for the brothers still suffering from the cold.

Zhao An also sprang into action. That afternoon, he contacted Feng Shaoping, introducing him to the horse caravan that supplied quartz to the city’s two kilns, and bought borax from a silver shop.

Once large quantities of coal arrived, they could start glass production.