Wu Shen and Shi Kefa stared at the paper until their eyes went dry.
Numbers crawled across the page like ants. Columns multiplied. Values were crossed out, recalculated, overwritten. The candle had burned down to a stub, wax pooling like a small white grave beside the inkstone.
Still—nothing.
No answer.
No certainty.
Not even a direction.
Shi Kefa finally leaned back, exhaling slowly.
"This won't do."
Wu Shen pressed two fingers against his temples.
"If we can't even calculate a selling price," he said grimly, "how are we supposed to roll this out across Xi'an? We'll be laughed out of the prefecture."
For the first time since they arrived in Chengcheng County, the word panic crept quietly into the room.
Liang Shixian watched them with an almost amused calm.
After a moment, he chuckled.
"Gentlemen," he said, "why struggle like this? Come—I'll introduce you to someone."
He turned toward the inner room and raised his voice.
"Chen Yuanbo. Come in."
The curtain lifted.
A young man stepped out.
Seventeen, perhaps eighteen. Slim build, straight-backed. He wore a padded scholar's gown—clean, well-kept, modest. The sort of outfit that suggested learning, discipline, and long hours hunched over books.
But what caught the eye immediately was the embroidery on his chest.
A small image of Dao Xuan Tianzun, stitched carefully in white cotton thread.
Not gold.
Not silver.
Plain cotton—simple, sincere.
In Gao Family Village, this had become fashion.
The wealthy flaunted Dao Xuan Tianzun in gold thread, sometimes even inlaid with gemstones. The common folk used cotton. Either way, wearing the image was both an aesthetic choice and a declaration of belief.
Faith, but with style.
Shi Kefa frowned slightly.
"And this young man is…?"
Liang Shixian's smile widened.
"This is Chen Yuanbo. Top student of Gao Family Village's first-ever middle school graduating class."
Wu Shen blinked.
"…Middle school?"
Shi Kefa echoed, "What is a middle school?"
Liang Shixian clasped his hands behind his back, delighted to explain.
"A level of education. At present, the highest one available. To graduate from middle school means one has mastered profound knowledge—he understands heaven and earth, literature and numbers. He can write, calculate, analyze, deduce."
He gestured lightly toward Chen Yuanbo.
"Frankly speaking, aside from Dao Xuan Tianzun himself, there is no one left to teach him. From here on, he studies on his own."
The room went quiet.
Very quiet.
Wu Shen and Shi Kefa both wore expressions that could only be described as strange.
They were jinshi.
Men who had clawed their way through the most brutal examination system in the empire. Survivors of essays, commentaries, poetry, policy debates. The so-called "dragons among men."
And now—
They were being told that some teenager with an embroidered deity on his chest had reached the limits of human instruction?
Their gazes slid toward Chen Yuanbo, sharp and deeply skeptical.
Chen Yuanbo, for his part, smiled politely and bowed.
"Greetings, honored sirs. Magistrate Liang flatters me far too much. I merely have a rudimentary understanding of several subjects. A middle school diploma is nothing special. I still need to continue studying—self-study, that is. If I can complete high school courses one day, that would truly be worth boasting about."
Wu Shen's eye twitched.
"So," he said coolly, "your meaning is that your knowledge surpasses that of this official?"
Chen Yuanbo waved his hands quickly.
"Oh no, no! Certainly not. Perhaps in mathematics, physics, chemistry, geography, and biology, I may have a slight advantage. But in literature and classical language, I cannot compare to you sirs at all."
Silence.
Then—
Wu Shen's face darkened.
A slight advantage?
In five subjects?
And conceding defeat in only one?
Shi Kefa felt irritation bubble up as well, though his temperament was gentler. He forced a neutral tone.
"Brother Chen," he asked, "have you passed the provincial examination? Have you been listed on the golden roster?"
Chen Yuanbo shook his head.
"No. I haven't even taken it."
Wu Shen and Shi Kefa stared at him.
Not a xiucai.
Not a juren.
Not even attempted the exams.
And yet here he stood, calm as spring water, speaking of disciplines neither man had even heard named.
It was… infuriating.
Sensing the temperature drop, Liang Shixian smoothly stepped forward.
"Chen Yuanbo," he said, "tell us—what should the price of celestial fertilizer be in Xi'an?"
Chen Yuanbo nodded, unperturbed.
"That depends on current grain prices and several variables," he replied. "May I ask—what is the price of grain in Xi'an Prefecture?"
Wu Shen answered stiffly,
"Four hundred wen per dou."
Chen Yuanbo's brush paused briefly. He nodded once and wrote it down.
"Four hundred wen."
Then—
The page vanished under numbers.
Symbols.
Formulas.
Lines that crossed, branched, looped.
Wu Shen and Shi Kefa leaned in—and immediately regretted it.
None of it made sense.
Chen Yuanbo murmured to himself as he worked.
"Assuming first-time usage… yield increase likely below double… estimate one point seven five times… taxation still applies… increased supply will lower market price—perhaps to three hundred or three hundred fifty wen…"
"One mu requires X jin of fertilizer… selling price must remain under Y to ensure net gain…"
His brush flew.
Then stopped.
He lifted the paper.
A single number sat there, bold and final.
"This," Chen Yuanbo said, "is the maximum price per jin of celestial fertilizer in Xi'an. Any higher, and farmers will lose incentive. They will choose lower yields over loss. That defeats the entire purpose."
Wu Shen squinted.
"…Hmm?"
Shi Kefa leaned closer.
"Oh?"
Neither understood a word of the calculations. Not one.
Chen Yuanbo added another note beneath the number: × 3/4.
Turning to Liang Shixian, he explained,
"This should be our wholesale price. That leaves sufficient margin for transport and resale. Producers earn. Middlemen earn. Retailers earn. Farmers earn."
He smiled faintly.
"That is a healthy system. Break one link, and the chain collapses."
Liang Shixian nodded, thoroughly pleased.
"Excellent. We'll do exactly that."
He turned to the two officials.
"Your thoughts?"
Wu Shen hesitated.
"…He's calculated a great deal. I understand none of it."
Liang Shixian shrugged lightly.
"Then test it. Sell it. If the farmers come back for more, you'll have your answer."
Wu Shen and Shi Kefa exchanged a look.
Then nodded.
Just like that—the matter was settled.
As they rose to leave, Wu Shen suddenly paused.
He turned back.
Both men circled Chen Yuanbo slowly, scrutinizing him from head to toe, as if trying to confirm he was real.
After a long moment, Wu Shen spoke.
"Regardless of accuracy," he said, "your computational ability is undeniable. Governor Wang Shunxing of Shaanxi is seeking advisors. Would you consider serving him?"
It was an offer that could change a life.
A single nod—and Chen Yuanbo would leap into officialdom, fame, fortune.
Chen Yuanbo smiled.
And shook his head.
"I thank you for the honor," he said gently. "But I believe I can do more good here. The Governor will surely find advisors better suited than me."
Wu Shen inhaled sharply.
He hadn't expected that.
Not at all.
Outside, the winter wind howled.
Inside Gao Family Village, a new kind of scholar quietly went back to his calculations—uninterested in rank, unmoved by titles, already walking a road the empire had yet to understand.