"Ryder Liew, Rosie Liew, Luke Low, Buck Low."
At the steward's call, Ryder and Rosie hurried forward, joining the group entering the academy.
There were twenty children in total, arranged by height and separated by boys and girls.
Rosie quickly realized with shock—she was the only girl.
Before she could process it, one of the tutors called her up first.
Rosie jolted but thankfully remembered everything Aunt Clara had drilled into her. She stepped forward, performed a proper bow, and gave a neat self-introduction.
"Dear tutors, my name is Rosie Liew, from Liew Clan Village. I am seven years old."
The tutor had just been about to ask her age and name—he blinked, a little surprised, but quickly schooled his features into sternness.
"Have you read any books?"
Rosie replied, "I've read The Hundred Family Surnames." She'd wanted to add "a little," but Clara had warned: The more you say, the more mistakes you make. If they don't ask, don't explain.
The three tutors exchanged interested looks. "Then recite for us."
So Rosie rattled off the surnames she had just memorized, a full fifty-five in one breath—five more than during practice!
She felt a small swell of pride. But the praise she expected never came. Instead, the tutor who had questioned her frowned slightly. "And after that?"
Rosie swallowed. "Th-that's all."
"Do you know how to write?"
She shook her head.
"Do you know how to draw?"
Another shake.
"That's enough. You may leave." He waved her off, picking up a brush and marking an "X" beside her name.
The desk was tall. Rosie craned on tiptoe, glimpsed a flash of red cinnabar ink, then caught the tutor's sharp glance. She bolted at once.
"So fast?" Caleb's heart sank.
It hadn't even been half a stick of incense! Was the test over already? He asked her what had happened inside, what the tutors had said.
But Rosie felt like she'd barely escaped with her life. Her mind was blank. She couldn't find the words.
"Don't worry." Clara bent down to the twins, smiling gently. "Stay calm. Believe in yourselves."
They nodded firmly, fixing their gaze on the academy gate.
Soon, the other children filed out one by one, all dejected. The tutors' questions had left them speechless. Compared to them, Rosie had at least managed a conversation.
Before long, Ryder also emerged. Being later in line seemed to have steadied him. He quickly explained the questions the tutors had asked, giving the twins a useful preview.
Clara had originally assumed the brushes and ink were meant for examination writing. Now she saw they were optional—tools for children who could already write or draw. The questions were even simpler than she'd imagined.
But oddly, though Ryder had fumbled worse than Rosie, he said the tutor had marked a check beside his name.
Clara's heart gave a jolt.
She scanned the grounds. Counting her own girls, only three female candidates in total.
Could it be… the tutors simply didn't want girl students?
Before she could decide how to respond, the second batch was called, including another girl.
Deb clenched her fists, whispering to herself, "Be brave, Deb. Step forward boldly!"
Chad copied her at once. "Be brave, Chad. Step forward boldly!"
They cast one last look back at their family, then strode into the academy with the group.
The first to emerge was that other girl.
The moment she saw her parents, she burst into tears. "The tutors were so fierce—I was too scared to answer anything!"
Her parents sighed in regret, guiding her aside. They wouldn't leave until the final results came out, but their daughter's chances were slim.
Clara sensed a pattern. Because there were so few girls, the tutors seemed to start with them.
Which meant—next would be Deb.
"From Liew Clan Village, Lillian Liew, greeting the dear tutors!"
Deb stepped forward with composure. Her small frame stood tall as she bowed with proper form, speaking clearly and confidently, not a trace of fear in her voice.
When she raised her head, her bright eyes shone with innocence and curiosity.
She was a lovely child—her hair tied not in twin buns but in a single rounded knot, wrapped neatly with a square cloth at the crown. A fringe of bangs hung across her forehead. At first glance, she looked like a little Taoist novice from a painting.
But the cloth was pale pink, with two ribbons trailing down her back—softening the impression and ensuring she wasn't mistaken for a boy.
So it was that this sweet, luminous child, with wide, sparkling eyes, made all three tutors' hearts soften for a moment.
Tutor Cheng cleared his throat and forced a stern expression. He asked the same questions he had asked dozens of times already.
"Have you read any books?"
"Can you write?"
"Can you paint?"
Deb waited politely until he finished, then clasped her hands behind her back and answered solemnly:
"Dear tutor, this student has read the Book of Songs and the Analects. I can write, though my calligraphy is still poor. As for painting, my parents say my hand is still weak—I can barely hold the brush—so I've only practiced a little, not enough to show. I beg your pardon if I fall short."
She gave a shy little grin as she said it, flashing her teeth in embarrassment.
The two tutors beside Cheng perked up at once. After so many dry examinations, here was a child whose words were interesting, refreshing.
And that impish, catlike smile—so full of clever spirit—it was hard to look away.
The eldest tutor, the same who had just frightened a girl into tears, decided to test her further.
"Little one, do you know the line that follows 'Learning without thought is labor lost'?"
Deb nodded. "Thinking without learning is perilous."
The three tutors lit up with joy. At last, a promising seedling!
Another tutor chimed in, "Can you recite a poem from the Book of Songs?"
Deb thought carefully. "Then I'll recite The Gourd Tree. It's my favorite."
'You give me a gourd, I return you fine jade.
It is not mere repayment, but an eternal bond of goodwill.
You give me a peach, I return you bright stone.
It is not mere repayment, but an everlasting bond of love.'
Her child's voice was as clear as a lark's, lilting with melody. It lifted the heart to hear it.
The tutor closed his eyes for a moment, savoring it, then asked, "And do you know what it means?"
Deb nodded. "When a friend gifts me fruit, I return precious jade. Not because I must repay a gift with a gift, but because I treasure the bond between us.
The feeling expressed may be friendship, or the affection between a man and woman.
And because the return gift far exceeds the one received, it shows that cherishing and honoring another's kindness—that is the noblest sentiment."
She finished with a graceful bow. "Please, tutors, grant me your guidance."
When she looked up again, the three tutors were exchanging glances—astonished, as though they had never heard such an interpretation before.
(End of Chapter)
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