APSIL -Chapter 103 A Question Asked Out of Sheer Boredom

The burlap sack that A-Liu had “picked up” was ultimately carried through the gates of the Duke of Zhao’s residence by the guards.

After waving goodbye to Zhu Ying, Zhang Shou followed A-Liu home.

Yawning all the way, he never once stopped to wonder why A-Liu—who had spent the entire day running around with him—somehow knew exactly where the little courtyard that Qi Jingshan had lent to him and his mother was located.

After getting home, Zhang Shou forced himself to answer Madam Wu’s endless stream of questions.

Then, while taking a bath, he nearly fell asleep.

By the time he climbed into bed…he slept like the dead.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he lay there with the back of his left hand covering his forehead.

For a moment…

He couldn’t even remember what day it was.

Or where he was.

Half-awake, half-dreaming, he instinctively reached his right hand toward where he vaguely remembered his phone sitting on the bedside table.

Instead…

His fingers bumped into the broad wooden rail of the canopy bed.

Only after staring blankly for quite some time did reality finally catch up with him.

He had been separated from his phone…for years now.

In this era, where life followed an almost monotonously regular rhythm, people rose with the sun and slept after sunset.

To protect their eyesight, they rarely lit lamps for reading or writing at night.

Even his own vision had gradually recovered to perfect 2.0 eyesight.

Only recently…

His previously tranquil life had been completely shattered by the sudden appearance of that young lady.

For the first time in years…

Life had become interesting.

The village teacher…had somehow become a Doctor of the Imperial Academy.

Bright sunlight streamed through the window.

It was obviously another beautiful day.

After staying awake an entire night, occasionally breaking one’s biological clock and sleeping until naturally waking was a tiny pleasure that habitual late sleepers could never truly appreciate.

For some reason…

Zhang Shou suddenly didn’t feel like getting up.

He simply lay there, staring blankly at the canopy above his bed.

Until voices drifted in from outside.

“A-Hu, Brother A-Liu turned you down too?”

“Yeah…”

Qiao Hu sighed.

“I sincerely wanted to learn some martial arts, but Brother A-Liu neither agreed nor refused. He just stared at me…”

“That look of his makes your hair stand on end! Sigh… Why couldn’t I have been born with any talent for studying?”

“I don’t either…”

Yang Hao replied gloomily.

“Luckily my grandpa still hasn’t returned from Linhai Camp. Otherwise, before sending me here, he’d definitely have beaten me half to death. He’s always talking about how Brother Xiao Qi and Brother Xiao Dai learned this and that from Little Teacher. But every time I open a book…”

“…I want to sleep. And whenever I see those numbers…I want to run.”

Recognizing their voices, Zhang Shou couldn’t help smiling.

Studying really did depend on talent.

Back in his previous life, he and his cousin had entered school together.

He barely needed to study and still ranked first every year.

His cousin, meanwhile, had struggled from first grade onward and repeated two grades during elementary school alone.

Of course…

His own modest talent stopped looking impressive after entering one of the country’s elite high schools.

Still…

Even after bombing the college entrance exam, he’d managed to get into a respectable Project 211 university and continue pretending to be a top student.

Closing his eyes again, Zhang Shou listened as the two boys first complained about A-Liu’s icy personality.

Then they praised Madam Wu’s kindness.

Finally…

They somehow drifted into enthusiastically discussing how Old Liu and Aunt Liu spent their nights together.

Unable to bear it any longer, Zhang Shou sat upright and thumped the bed.

“You two had better watch out for Old Liu’s bamboo switch!”

Silence immediately fell outside.

Moments later…

The door slowly creaked open.

A round little head cautiously poked through the crack, looking left and right.

Only after belatedly noticing Zhang Shou already sitting upright watching him did the boy let out a startled cry before awkwardly shuffling inside.

Behind him…

Another sturdy, tiger-headed little fellow tiptoed in.

Too lazy to lecture them about gossiping behind other people’s backs, Zhang Shou simply yawned.

“Why are only you two outside?”

Qiao Hu hurriedly answered, “Early this morning, someone from the Duke of Zhao’s residence came to invite Madam away.

“Aunt Liu went with her. Old Liu secretly followed Brother A-Liu out too. No idea where they went. Brother Xiao Qi went to the Shuntian Prefecture offices to visit Brother Xiao Dai.”

After explaining, he suddenly remembered something.

“Oh! Someone also came early this morning asking to see Little Teacher. But after hearing you were still asleep, he left looking disappointed. He’d studied in the village before. His name was…”

Qiao Hu frowned so hard that his face almost twisted.

He simply couldn’t remember.

Eventually, he looked helplessly toward Yang Hao.

Unfortunately…

Yang Hao looked even more bewildered.

“We…”

“We forgot to ask his name.”

Knowing full well that the two boys had grown up learning how to be farmers—and perhaps soldiers—but certainly not gatekeepers or servants, Zhang Shou thought for a moment.

Finally…

He irresponsibly decided to throw the task onto Old Liu later.

Asking A-Liu to teach them?

He’d have better luck expecting the air itself to start talking.

After getting dressed and washing up, Zhang Shou ate the plain rice porridge and fried dough left for him in the kitchen.

Then he seriously considered his plans for the day.

The Nine Chapters Hall was still under renovation.

Going to the Imperial Academy now would probably look like showing off—or picking a fight.

Going to Ge Yong’s residence…would only result in Ge Yong dragging him into solving all sorts of tedious mathematical problems that were meaningful now but would be utterly useless centuries later.

Going to the Duke of Zhao’s residence…meant becoming the center of attention.

Besides, the impatient Zhu Ying was probably waiting for Lu Wan to come knocking, just as he’d predicted.

Truthfully…

He wasn’t completely certain the cipher he’d solved last night was actually correct.

Perhaps mentioning Grand Academician Kong had simply been a lucky coincidence.

After pondering for quite some time, he casually asked, “Have either of you gone out since arriving in the capital?

“Any interesting news lately?”

It was only an offhand question.

Yet Qiao Hu immediately shouted, “We haven’t gone anywhere ourselves! But we heard something! Little Teacher, those Linhai Camp rebels who tried attacking our village before…”

“…are being publicly tried at the Shuntian Prefecture today!”

Yang Hao nodded furiously beside him.

At first, Zhang Shou was surprised.

Then he understood.

Commander Xiong Wei of the Swift Cavalry Battalion had escorted the twenty-odd prisoners back from Rongshui Village several days ago.

The emperor—who had supposedly fallen ill from anger—had somehow appeared at the Imperial Academy yesterday looking perfectly healthy.

Compared to that…

The Shuntian Prefecture, which normally handled civilian affairs, suddenly taking charge of a military rebellion didn’t seem quite so unbelievable.

Perhaps…

The emperor had gotten into another argument with his ministers.

Smiling, Zhang Shou said, “Very well.”

“Lock the front gate.”

“And saddle my horse.”

“We’re going to watch the excitement.”

Ever since arriving in the capital of their dreams, Yang Hao and Qiao Hu had scarcely ventured beyond Tangzi Alley.

They were nearly suffocating from boredom.

Hearing Zhang Shou’s decision, both boys cheered excitedly.

Following behind him, they chattered nonstop, whispering comments about everything they saw along the streets.

Only after reaching Shuntian Street—and seeing the sea of people ahead—did they finally fall silent in shock.

The capital was already unimaginably huge.

Yet…

There were actually this many people?

Seeing the boys overwhelmed, Zhang Shou smiled from atop his horse.

Then he recited, “Wheel hubs strike wheel hubs; shoulders brush shoulders. Robes join to form curtains; raised sleeves become canopies; sweat falls like rain.”

He paused.

“Know what that means?”

“No!”

Both boys answered in perfect unison.

Zhang Shou laughed.

“It’s describing the bustling prosperity of Linzi, the capital of Qi during the Warring States Period.”

“Carriages were packed so tightly their wheel hubs struck each other.”

“People stood shoulder to shoulder.”

“Their robes together formed curtains.”

“Their sleeves, when raised, looked like awnings.”

“And the sweat they shed together fell like rain.”

He gestured around them.

“But this capital…”

“…is several times larger than Linzi.”

With nothing better to do, he suddenly asked, “Since you’ve now seen how many people there are…

“Suppose we divide the capital into a chessboard consisting of eight rows and eight columns—sixty-four squares in total.”

“The first square contains one person.”

“The second contains two.”

“The third contains four.”

“And so on.”

“How many people do you think would be in the entire capital?”

Qiao Hu hadn’t even realized it was a math problem.

“But…”

“Little Teacher…”

“How could the capital have so few people?”

“If the fourth square has eight…

“The fifth sixteen…

“The sixth thirty-two…”

By the time he reached the eighth square…

His scalp began tingling.

By the tenth…

His eyes had already turned into spirals.

Yang Hao fared even worse.

His face scrunched up miserably as he shook his head like a rattle drum.

“Little Teacher…”

“I’m not calculating anymore.”

“I definitely can’t work it out.”

Zhang Shou had only meant to tease the two boys.

Seeing them utterly defeated, he chuckled mischievously.

Just then…

A voice suddenly sounded beside his ear.

“Young sir…”

“The problem you just posed…”

“…can you solve it yourself?”

Unexpected that someone would challenge him over a question casually asked to entertain two children, Zhang Shou turned toward the speaker.

Standing three or four paces away beside the entrance of a teahouse was a short, plump elderly man he’d never met before.

Beside him, however…stood someone Zhang Shou did recognize.

Qi Jingshan.

Ge Yong’s old friend.

Smiling faintly, Zhang Shou answered without hesitation, “Very simple.”

“The answer is…”

“18,446,744,073,709,551,615 people.”

Problems like this would leave even the greatest mathematicians of ancient times calculating until their heads spun.

But modern people…

Had computers.

Computers were wonderful things.

Heh.

Back in first grade, I could already recite fifty digits of pi after the decimal point…