The fact that the gatekeeper was a Buddhist nun clearly indicated that the person in charge was a woman, and most likely someone as strict and old-fashioned as Rong Mama—a figure whose combat power definitely surpassed that of the aunties guarding the girls’ dormitory entrance, the kind who could expose your true nature with just a single glare.

As for the test, it was the Four Books for Women. The so-called Four Books for Women were four texts specifically for female readers: “Nü Jie” (Admonitions for Women), “Nei Xun” (Instructions for the Inner Quarters), “Nü Lunyu” (Women’s Analects), and “Nü Fan Jie Lu” (Women’s Model Records), totaling hundreds of thousands of words. For respectable women with even a basic education, these Four Books for Women were essential.

Charles Harper suddenly felt troubled. To recite the Four Books for Women—this was madness! No wonder so many people had failed and returned in defeat. Many were just here to try their luck, not even knowing what the Four Books looked like, just fooling around—how could they possibly pass? Even if someone was truly learned, if you asked him about the Analects or the Book of Rites, he might be able to answer fluently, but the Four Books for Women...

After hesitating for a moment, Charles Harper gritted his teeth: “If I can’t even get through such a tough challenge, how can I talk about winning back Miss Lu! Hmph, my master taught me so many skills—am I to shrink back just because I’ve come to this era? What is there to be afraid of?”

He quickened his pace and stepped onto the stone steps at the entrance of the Lu residence. Many people had already gathered here, but more were coming out than going in. The gatekeepers at the door watched everyone warily, calling someone in every so often.

Among those gathered outside were both plainly dressed scholars and young gentlemen fanning themselves even in the dead of winter, but everyone’s expression seemed heavy.

Because everyone who came out either looked shaken, and when asked how it went, would just shake their head in dismay; or, some would come out waving their fists and shouting about unfairness.

“Unfair, unfair! This is outrageous! How is this a recruitment for a tutor? Why is it harder than passing the imperial exam...”

Sure enough, another disgruntled failure came out of the residence, shouting loudly.

A few burly gatekeepers exchanged glances and moved in, one of them barking, “This is the residence of the Naval Commander—how dare you make a scene here...” Rolling up his sleeves, he was about to take action.

Seeing this, the man knew better than to suffer a loss right in front of him—besides, he wasn’t a tough guy, just a frail, half-baked scholar. He shrank his neck and slipped away.

The people outside chuckled. Someone said, “That guy really doesn’t know the rules, causing trouble here. The gatekeepers here were all once the Commander’s trusted men, who followed him through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Making a scene here is just asking for death, isn’t it?”

The atmosphere finally relaxed a little, but as more and more people came out in failure, many felt their hearts sink to rock bottom.

Charles Harper, however, was completely at ease—not because he didn’t fear the challenge, but because, as a master of romance, he had excellent psychological resilience. His master had warned him: if you tremble at every difficulty, how can you face what’s ahead? As the eighteenth-generation sole heir to the title of Love Sage, he had to carry the name forward, and who knew how many challenges he would face? When soldiers come, use generals; when water comes, use earth to block it—only then can you be invincible.

“Fenglou, which one is Fenglou?” A gatekeeper called from inside.

Surname Feng, given name Lou—what an odd name, but the gatekeeper’s face remained expressionless, as if it was nothing unusual.

Charles Harper quickly replied, “That’s me, that’s me, student Fenglou...”

He made a proper bow, but the gatekeeper said impatiently, “Please, sir, follow me inside.”

Charles Harper shot him a look—such arrogance from a mere servant! But, never mind, now was not the time to fuss over this. Following the gatekeeper through the main entrance, he could feel many people behind him watching with schadenfreude, as if they could already foresee his inevitable failure.

Charles Harper was in no hurry, strolling along, and soon turned into a small hall. Upon entering, he found the decor quite unique—simple, yet with an air of transcendence. Far from feeling plain, it actually helped one focus and calm the mind.

Except, the woman sitting in the small hall made it impossible to stay calm.

This woman was actually not very old, at most thirty, with an ordinary appearance. Yet her face looked as if someone owed her money, or perhaps as if she had lost her chastity to you. Especially those eyes—sharp and aggressive. When her gaze landed on you, it carried a powerful intimidation, making your heart involuntarily skip a beat at first sight.

Yet this woman seemed unaware of how much people disliked her gaze. After Charles Harper entered, her eyes remained fixed on him, as if her stare could pierce through Charles Harper’s body and reach the depths of his soul.

“No wonder so many people call her the old nun,” Charles Harper grumbled inwardly, then smiled slightly and bowed to the woman, saying, “Student Fenglou, greetings, Miss.”

Hearing the word “Miss,” the woman was momentarily stunned.

Because, given her age, most people called her “Aunt” or “Mama.”

But she was indeed a “Miss,” since to this day, she had not married.

However...

Charles Harper’s form of address did nothing to improve her expression; her face remained stern, only a trace of confusion flickering in those sharp eyes.

She unconsciously touched her wrist, where she wore a beautiful crimson jade bracelet.