In the Northern Song Dynasty, he started by marrying the eighth daughter of the Su family.

Welcome to our new classmates!

Han Zhi was taken aback, and then he saw the students stand up and bow to him respectfully. Han Zhi naturally dared not be negligent and quickly returned the bow.

At this moment, the student who had led him in bowed and said, "My name is Shen Kuo. May I ask your honorable surname, sir?"

"No need for formalities. My surname is Han, and my given name is Zhi," Han Zhi replied.

"Han? Is it the Han of the Marquis of Fuping?" At this moment, another person emerged from the crowd and asked.

At this moment, Shen Kuo said, "Huiqing, you mustn't be rude!"

Han Zhi scratched his head sheepishly and said, "What this young man says is correct. My father-in-law is none other than the Earl of Fuping. His surname is also Han, the same as the Earl of Fuping."

The man called "Huiqing" also raised his eyebrows smugly at Shen Kuo, then introduced himself:

"My surname is Lü, and my given name is Huiqing."

At that moment, the door opened again, and a handsome young man carrying several books appeared.

"Huaimin! You've come at the right time! Come and meet our new classmate!" Lü Huiqing smiled and pulled the scholar over, introducing him: "This gentleman's surname is Han, given name Zhi, from the family of the Marquis of Fuping!"

"My name is Zhang Huaimin. I have met you, Young Master Han." Zhang Huaimin replied, bowing respectfully and speaking in a gentle voice, a typical image of a frail scholar.

Upon hearing his response, Han Zhi subconsciously asked, "On the night of the 12th of the tenth month in the sixth year of Yuanfeng, Huaimin was also awake?"

"Huh?" Zhang Huaimin was stunned for a moment, clearly not understanding why Han Zhi suddenly said that.

"It's nothing, it's nothing. I was just saying it casually. You don't need to take it to heart, Young Master Zhang," Han Zhi quickly corrected himself.

Zhang Huaimin didn't think much of it, nodded, and said, "Young Master Han is new here today, please don't be so formal."

“Although we are all sons of officials of the third rank, we don’t have that kind of airs. Just relax and focus on your studies.” Lü Huiqing stepped forward and gently patted Han Zhi on the shoulder.

Seeing that he still had his book box on his shoulder, he said, "You haven't put your book box down yet, have you? Let's find a place for now!"

Lu Huiqing looked around and then saw an empty seat. She said, "Perfect! There's an empty seat next to me. Go put your book box away quickly, and then I'll take you to find your teacher and pay your tuition."

"Thank you."

Han Zhi walked over, put the book box down, laid it flat on the ground, and opened it. On top of the books was a silk handkerchief, folded into a triangle and lying flat; it appeared there were words on it.

He reached out and picked up the silk handkerchief, on which was indeed written a poem:

"Dewdrops cling to the green paulownia trees, the jade steps are slightly damp, the night is as intricate as silk. You walk far away, your shadow fading into the distance, my heart follows your steps, my thoughts drift away with the clouds. Flowers fall silently in the empty courtyard, I lean alone on the railing, my tearful eyes gazing into the distance. How can I bear to recall the joys of the past, all now lost in the cries of the wild geese?"

Longing for your return, I yearn for your homeland, the lamplight flickering weakly. I hope your heart remains steadfast, that you study diligently and pass the imperial examinations soon. The lamplight by the study window illuminates the deep night; you should know the depth of my longing. My dreams are filled with the misty rain of Jiangnan, all flowing swiftly away like the passing water.

Han Zhi smiled, and at this moment Shen Kuo appeared and praised, "This poem, 'Rainy Night Bell,' is ten or even a hundred times better than any I've seen before! Who wrote it?"

Zhang Huaimin's voice also came out, saying, "It's better than Liu Yong's poem. That poem is full of sorrow, but this one has a touch of expectation and is more graceful, as if it was written for a lady."

Han Zhi nodded and replied, "Indeed, this poem was written by my wife."

He carefully folded the silk handkerchief in half, then put it in his pocket and patted it to make sure it was safe.

"I never imagined your wife would have such literary talent. Whose wife is she?" Lu Huiqing, always one for gossips, asked.

"My wife and I are both from Meishan. She also comes from a scholarly family and has been well-versed in literature since childhood. Her literary talent is far superior to mine," Han Zhi said.

"She's actually quite talented! If I have the time, I'll definitely pay her a visit and get to know your wife properly!" Lü Huiqing said with a smile.

Han Zhi nodded without much thought and replied, "My wife prefers quiet. If there is an opportunity, I will definitely do so."

After responding, he reached into the book box and took out the tuition fee. This box, which contained the tuition fee, took up almost a third of the book box, making it somewhat difficult to carry.

At that moment, a gentleman walked in, tapping on the door with a ruler in his hand.

Now all the students—except Han Zhi—stood up and bowed to the old man.

"Meet sir."

Everyone was respectful. The teacher walked onto the stage, and the students quickly returned to their places. At this moment, Han Zhi hurriedly stepped forward with the tuition fees in his arms and said:

"Sir, this student is a new arrival today..."

But before he could finish speaking, a hand reached out and placed it on the box, saying, "No need for formalities, please go back and sit down. You can leave the tuition fee aside for now."

"Yes."

Han Zhi placed the box to the side of the podium, then quickly went back to sit down.

However, what followed was different from the stereotype. After simply reading the text aloud once, the teacher began to explain its contents.

The lecture lasted all morning. After the lecture, homework was assigned, and the students were sent to study on their own.

As soon as the man left, Han Zhi raised his head, relaxed his stiff neck and shoulders, and let out a soft breath. Only then did he realize something was wrong—

Unlike when I first arrived, the classroom was now very quiet; the only sound was the turning of pages. Even though the teacher had left, the students remained very quiet.

Now, even if Han Zhi wanted to drift off, he couldn't. In this atmosphere, he quickly got into the zone and started reading.

But before he could look around for long, he felt something hard tap his shoulder twice. He turned around and saw it was the man. The man gave him a look, signaling him to leave, and then turned and left.

Han Zhi quietly got up and followed her teacher out.

"Are you Han Zhi?" the man asked after they went outside.

Han Zhi nodded, and the teacher asked again: "Since you are starting class today, have you reviewed the previous lessons? If there are any mistakes, I can give you some pointers."

"Thank you for your kindness, sir, but this is not necessary." Han Zhi shook his head and declined.

The teacher didn't say much, but said, "There are rules in the Imperial Academy that require students to live within the academy. I just don't know if you have a family? Do you need to go home to live?"

Han Zhi was taken aback—wasn't this a boarding school? He quickly shook his head and said, "Sir, I am already married, and my wife is the only one at home. She still needs to go home to take care of me."

"Then come with me later. Go to the chief priest's office and tell him to write some documents." With that, the man turned around and walked in a certain direction.

"But don't forget, if you stay out overnight, and your monthly grades drop, you'll be disqualified. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."