It's just a pity that Jason Brooks is not someone who can settle down—his extraordinary background destined him to be restless. With his experience, he could easily see through many deeper things; he was not so easily fooled. He also discovered that the Confucian system of the Tiantong Dynasty differed quite a bit from the Confucianism he was familiar with.

For example, the founding father of Confucianism in the Tiantong Dynasty was the founding minister who lived to the age of 138, Grand Secretary Justin Dawson, whom later generations respectfully called "Sage Dong." The topics for the mandatory "Eight-Legged Essay" in the civil service exams were almost all drawn from Sage Dong's own works: "Book of Virtue," "Book of Rites," "Book of Loyalty," and "Book of Law," with no room for free expression—one could not step even half a foot out of line.

The "Book of Virtue," "Book of Rites," "Book of Loyalty," and "Book of Law," collectively known as the "Four Books," were all written in classical Chinese, filled with archaic and convoluted language. Compared to the teachings of Confucius and Mencius, these texts were even more tedious and dry, utterly dogmatic, rigid and lifeless, with content so hollow and boring it was unbearable.

So, from the bottom of his heart, Jason Brooks felt repulsed and disgusted. Every time he picked up those thick classics, he had the urge to tear them apart and use the pages as toilet paper.

Each of the "Four Books" had three large volumes, twelve in total—enough to wipe for a long time.

Unfortunately, this thought could only circle in his mind and could never be put into action—disrespecting the "Four Books" was disrespecting Sage Dong, and according to the laws of the dynasty, that was a capital offense.

Jason Brooks did not want to die.

Not only did he not want to die, he wanted to live well, to live comfortably.

However, to achieve his ideal standard of living, he had to take the imperial exams, write Eight-Legged Essays, and hope to pass, become a "juren," and enter officialdom.

There was hardly any other way.

Given his situation, he couldn't do anything else.

Go into business? Farming? Learn a trade?

Don't be ridiculous.

He had no capital, no resources, no experience for business—where would he even start? And farmers and craftsmen were considered "lower class" and couldn't even enter the ranks. Below the lower class were the "base people," those who had committed crimes or were slaves.

"All trades are lowly, only studying is noble."

The strict hierarchy of the system made the full meaning of this saying abundantly clear.

Actually, the imperial exams were divided into civil and military tracks; those with exceptional martial skills could also become officials.

The problem was, for Jason Brooks to take the military exam—wasn't that even more of a joke?

So, the only path before him was the civil exam.

There was basically no age limit for the imperial exams; as long as you had the status of "xiucai" and it hadn't been revoked, you could keep taking the exams, even until death—in the exam halls, it was not uncommon to see elderly "xiucai" candidates. During this long "struggle" of life, those from poor families mainly made a living by teaching at private schools or selling calligraphy and paintings, barely scraping by to solve their basic needs.

But Jason Brooks had been reborn into this world—not just to scrape by.

So what could he do?

The road ahead was one he didn't like, and he might not even be able to keep walking it smoothly; as the saying goes, "When in poverty, one seeks change," but where exactly was the path of change?

Jason Brooks didn't know; at least for now, he felt lost and at a loss.

Sigh...

Letting out a long sigh, he forced himself once again to open the "Book of Virtue" in front of him, intending to review and learn something new, but after absentmindedly flipping a few pages, he couldn't learn anything new, and even the old knowledge was gradually fading away.

It was truly maddening.

You had to know, the most basic requirement for the imperial exams was memory—the ability to recite. You had to memorize all twelve volumes of the Four Books, over a hundred thousand words, without missing a single word, and be able to recite them backwards and forwards to be considered solid.

The former Jason Brooks could undoubtedly do this.

But that was in the past.

A modern university student who had crossed over might have inherited the bookworm's memory, but that memory was not infallible—especially when it came to rote memorization. If you didn't review often, with time, it was easy to forget most of it.

And since crossing over, Jason Brooks had not reviewed for more than three months...

"FUCK!"

He slammed the "Book of Virtue" shut and threw it with a smack into the corner of the room, then walked out of the cramped, cage-like study.

He really couldn't keep reading; when the cart reaches the mountain, there will be a way. Whatever happens, he would deal with it after the new term started in spring. While there was still some time to prepare, he needed to think things through.

Olivia Morgan was weaving cloth, an ancient-style loom creaking as it worked.

She had skillful hands, and the cloth she wove was of excellent quality and always in demand. This household was supported by her weaving day in and day out.

This was something Jason Brooks couldn't help with.

"Liuxian, are you going out?"

Jason Brooks said, "Yes, I've been feeling rather irritable lately, so I want to go out for a walk."

"Then go ahead, but remember to wear an extra layer."

All the clothes Jason Brooks wore were handmade by Olivia Morgan, old-fashioned in style, but thick and durable.

"A wanderer's clothes are sewn with a loving mother's thread."

Something like that.