Rise From the Humble

  Chapter 228 There is a family like this, what more can a husband ask for

  The north wind was blowing outside, and the night was extremely cold.

  Mother Chen returned to the bedroom after clearing the table for dinner, and was a little absent-minded. Father Zhu mixed the footwashing water for Chen before putting it under her feet. When Chen washed her feet, she almost stepped on the footbath.

   "Our family is not short of money, so it's okay to lend some to elder brother, who will pay back after he says so." Father Zhu thought that Mrs. Chen felt sorry for the ten taels of silver lent to elder brother Zhu Shouren in the evening, so he couldn't help but comfort him.

"Then I don't know about the year of the monkey." Chen curled her lips, "I didn't expect your elder brother to pay back the money. I also watched Jun'er grow up, so we should pay Jun'er some money .”

  Father Zhu laughed when he heard the words. He also knew his elder brother's temperament. He had no intention of repaying the money he borrowed from him in private a few times ago.

   "Father, Jun'er said kiss in a blink of an eye, do you think our son should also say kiss?" Mrs. Chen casually washed her feet, then looked at Father Zhu, and asked with shining eyes.

   "Don't worry, Jun'er is one year older than Xi'er, besides, Xi'er is about to go to the capital for the exam, don't let him be distracted."

   Only then did Father Zhu realize that Chen's absent-mindedness was not because of borrowing money, but because of Xi'er's marriage. Hearing Chen's words, Father Zhu thought for a while, then shook his head, then bent down and brought Chen's foot-washing water to himself, took off his shoes, and used Chen's foot-washing water to wash his hands. I also washed my feet.

   "That's right, I'm about to go to Beijing to catch the exam, and I've only been home for a few days."

  Chen thought that Zhu Pingan was going to take the exam at the feet of the emperor, and it would be bad if it affected the exam, so Chen suppressed the idea of ​​proposing to Zhu Pingan for the time being.

  In another room, Zhu Ping'an didn't know that he was almost said to be kissed. At this time, Zhu Ping'an was sitting at the desk by the window. By the light of the oil lamp, he was flipping through the books borrowed from Mr. Li's house, reading for a while and copying for a while, and when the cold was unbearable, he put his hands in his sleeves to warm up for a while, and then picked up the pen and continued to copy.

  In the beginning, Zhu Ping’an really used the stereotyped essay as a tool for the imperial examination to become an official. Just like the stereotyped essay in modern times, he sneered at the stereotyped essay, and he had to delve into the stereotyped essay only for the imperial examination. However, in the process of studying and becoming familiar with stereotyped essays, Zhu Pingan gradually changed his views on stereotyped essays, from scoffing at the beginning to slowly accepting them, and now he has developed a kind of admiration for stereotyped essays .

  That’s right, stereotyped prose is rigid, stereotyped prose is a fixed format, and stereotyped prose is subject to various restrictions. It can’t compare with Tang poetry, Song Ci, or modern Xiaobaiwen. But after studying for a long time, I found that stereotyped prose also has its unique charm. It can also be as heroic as Tang poetry, it can also be as graceful as Song poetry, and it can also be as divergent in thinking as modern Xiaobai prose. The key lies in the author. You have real talents and real learning, and you can create the style you want in stereotyped essays.

  In addition, the greatest charm of stereotyped essays lies in its fairness and justice, and that it creates a road to heaven for the children of poor families.

   After Zhu Ping'an finished copying a stereotyped model essay. So I read it carefully, checked its ideas and writing style with the stereotyped essay I wrote according to the topic several times, took the essence, found the shortcomings, and gained a lot in a short time.

  After reading this stereotyped essay, Zhu Pingan picked up a pen and wrote a new stereotyped essay. Halfway through writing, the oil lamp suddenly went out.

  The windows are closed, no wind can blow in. The oil lamp suddenly went out.

  At this moment, the night is still outside, and the sound of the wind blowing is as sinister as a ghost.

Could it be that?

  Zhu Ping'an is holding an oil lamp. body meal

"Ugh"

  Just listen to a sigh floating quietly in the room at this time.

   "The lamp is out of gas again."

  Zhu Pingan paused and sighed. A few days ago, he noticed that there was not much oil in the oil lamp, but he forgot to add it. At this moment, the oil was exhausted and the lamp went out. But Evans springs up, and the stereotyped essay is only half written. This feeling is like half of the interesting things between men and women being choked.

   As a last resort, Zhu Ping'an had to put on another thick dress. Holding the oil lamp, he opened the door and went to the kitchen. Mother Chen put all the lamp oil in the stove, and you have to go to the stove to refuel.

  The night outside was quiet, the moonlight was cold, and I could barely see my feet clearly.

  Zhu Ping'an entered the kitchen room, lit the oil lamp in the kitchen room with flint, then used the light to add oil to his own oil lamp, lit the fire again, and then blew out the oil lamp in the kitchen room.

  Zhu Pingan came out of the kitchen with the oil lamp in hand, when he saw a black shadow standing at the door, appearing abruptly under the moonlight.

  Zhu Ping'an almost threw the oil lamp in his hand to the ground.

   "Hey, it's you. I thought the house was broken into. Why aren't you sleeping?" Father Zhu's voice came.

  Dad, don’t you know that this will scare **** people?

  Zhu Pingan looked at his father with resentment, shook the oil lamp in his hand and said, "Father, the oil lamp in my son's room ran out of oil just now, so I came here to add some oil."

   "It's almost time, don't read any more, go to bed, son." The door of the main room was pushed open, and mother Chen stood at the door yawning and said.

   "Well, I got it, mother, I'm going to sleep now." Zhu Ping'an replied.

  Father Zhu and Mrs. Chen returned to the room to rest one after another. Zhu Pingan entered the bedroom with the oil lamp, put the oil lamp on the table, and sat at the table to continue writing the stereotypes he hadn't finished.

When Mrs. Chen got out of bed the next morning, she found through the window that Zhu Ping'an, who slept late last night, was sitting in front of the big rock in the yard practicing calligraphy again. She couldn't help feeling distressed. What are you doing early, did you sleep well last night?

  彘'er studied so hard, he really didn't want to bother him anymore, so Chen put down the idea of ​​marrying Zhu Pingan again.

   "Father, go and kill an old hen in the coop and kill it to make soup." Standing in front of the window, Mrs. Chen turned her head and said to Father Zhu who was getting up.

   "Didn't the old Zhang family just send a processed rooster yesterday?" Father Zhu said to Chen Shi while putting on his shoes.

"How can the rooster be fed by our old hen? I see that the pig got up so early again, and he didn't know when he went to bed last night. I have to feed him well." Chen looked at Zhu Pingan who was working hard outside the window, feeling distressed said.

   "As long as you don't feel bad." Father Zhu smiled.

   "You can kill as soon as you are told. You talk a lot, aren't you a gentleman!" Mrs. Chen said with a sharp look at Father Zhu.

   "You don't know if I am a gentleman or not," Father Zhu muttered with a pun.

   "What are you talking about!"

  Before he finished speaking, Mrs. Chen twisted Father Zhu's arm forcefully with a blushing face.

  Father Zhu didn't cry out in pain, but grinned silly.

   "What are you laughing at, pour out the chamber pot!" Chen blushed and glared at Father Zhu, turned his head, and went out to cook.

Zhu Pingan was practicing calligraphy on the stone, when he suddenly heard chickens flying in the chicken coop in the yard, turned his head and saw a few chicken feathers on the top of Zhu's father, holding an old hen, muttering "chicken, chick, don't send!" Strange, and then cut down cleanly, scalded hot water, plucked the chicken feathers, ripped open the belly, and then took the white chicken to the stove to ask for credit from Mrs. Chen

   It looked like my mother was going to give herself an extra meal.

  If you have a family like this, what more can you ask for.

  Zhu Ping'an only felt that his whole body was full of strength, and his descent was like running water, extremely smooth.

  (end of this chapter)