rix_scaedu | Entries tagged with scholar sung

This follows on from A Parcel Is Received and is at the Sung family New Year's party during the lead up to midnight. I haven't written the concurrent episode for Nai yet, but she should be on a train... This piece comes in at 1,635 words and covers prompts for cluudle, Anonymous and sauergeek.

“Wow!” Sung Ming regarded the combined proceeds from the red money packets he’d received with all the unbridled enthusiasm of a seven year old. “I’ve got enough to get three of the medium-size kits or one of the big ones!”

“What sort of kit?” That was from his older brother, Sung Hu, who still lived at home because although he was at university, he was at Jingshi University so there was no point in him moving out. Older brother Hu was also the only one of his brothers who was also interested in the model kits that Ming liked. “One of the Metal Girders ones or more of those War Cat Battles models?”

( Read more... )

I wrote this in response to aldersprig's ninth prompt "Nai again: why do they have such a big family?"

“No-one joins the public service to get rich,” Scholar Sung poured tea for his younger brother, “although they may do so for the pension. However, in this day and age it is not possible to obtain a suitable appointment solely on the basis of one’s examination results.”

“And even with the proliferation of new universities,” Sung Ma agreed gracefully, “there are only so many teaching positions available.”

“That is so. I have been fortunate enough to have several of my books taken up as texts,” the older brother sighed, “but they could lose favour for another publication at any time.”

“Is it wise then,” the younger brother trod delicately on sensitive ground, “to keep having more children?”

“My wife and I must make some provision for our old age,” the two men sipped contemplatively together for a moment, “and having many sons to rally around in your years of infirmity is a traditional one.”

“But going out of style,” pointed out Sung Ma. “Besides, you have four sons now, as well as your four daughters, that is probably provision enough. Particularly,” he added delicately, “as you weren’t able to afford anything more than the basic birth prediction for this latest one.”

“School shoes,” his older brother explained briefly, “and Kae is starting secondary school this year, so there were additional expenses there. We have years ahead of us to get Nai’s birth prediction expanded upon.”

“At least it wasn’t one of those awkward ones that tells you what the poor child is going to do for the rest of their life,” consoled Sung Ma. “It only talks about where her happiness will come from.”

“Is that how you heard it?” Scholar Sung looked at his brother with interest. “I thought it meant her husband and children were going to be the focus of her life.”

“You think it means she’s going to marry an older man and spend the rest of her life being tai-tai?” Sung Ma laughed, “Sometimes you can be more old-fashioned than our grandfathers, and one of them was a Reincarnated Scholar.” He looked at his brother and sobered up. “You’re still trying to sire that Reincarnated Scholar your birth prediction spoke about, aren’t you?”

I wrote this in response to cluudle's prompt "Just to jump on a bandwagon, wandered over to read the Nai section you just posted and more would be neat."

Madam Sung opened the front door of the house to two unfamiliar people clad in black scholars’ robes. “May I help you?”

“Madam Sung, we haven’t met, but I am Xu Mai. I’m Sung Nai’s year adviser and this,” she indicated her male companion, “is my colleague Shou Xian, head of our science department. May we come in?”

Madam Sung’s mind raced. She had never met her daughter’s high school teachers and she was at the moment hypersensitive about what those who had been normally involved in her eighth child’s life thought of her. The ‘why’ of their visit concerned her and there was only one way to find out what that was. “Please, won’t you come through?”

As she settled them into the guests’ places in the front, downstairs room that was kept aside as a receiving room she asked brightly, “So, would you like some tea? I can get it while I fetch my honoured husband.”

“Thank you, Madam Sung, but we don’t require tea,” Scholar Xu waved the offer politely aside, “and it’s actually your daughter Nai we’ve come to see.”

“I’m afraid Nai is away from home.” Madam Sung added hurriedly, “Please excuse me for a moment while I fetch my husband.” Her guests nodded politely in acquiescence and Madam Sung retreated from the room.

When she returned her husband preceded her into the room, bowed to their guests and seated himself in the head of household’s chair. “How may we help you, Scholars? I understand you came to see my daughter Nai but I’m afraid she’s away on a road trip with friends at the moment.”

The two teachers glanced at each other, then Scholar Xu replied, “That’s a pity. We’ve come to congratulate her on her examination results.”

“But surely the results aren’t to be released until tomorrow?” That was Madam Sung.

“Yes,” agreed Scholar Shou, “but some students are given advance notice through their schools.”

“We are aware of that,” Scholar Sung smiled benignly, “but I would not have thought Nai would fall into that category.”

“On the contrary,” Scholar Xu assured him with a tight smile, “Nai’s overall results put her in the top ten per cent of this year’s candidates. On top of that, she was in the top five per cent for two subjects.”

Visibly surprised, Scholar Sung murmured, “Our family has always been strong in the classical subjects.”

“Not the Classics,” interrupted Scholar Shou. “Earthscience 1 and 2.”

I wrote this in response to aldersprig's first prompt of "More Nai."

After the police had left, Madam Sung cornered her husband in his study. Cornered is perhaps too aggressive a term, he was reading a scholarly journal and she brought him tea. When he looked up from his reading to thank her, she asked him, “Sung Kao, do you remember who introduced us?”

“Wasn’t it Pun? That fellow from the park exercise group?” Her husband picked up his cup.

“But it wasn’t my father, or your father for that matter,” she pressed on and he looked at her oddly before she added, “so, when does Nai get to have fun?”

“I beg your pardon?” He was clearly puzzled.

“After I finished my secondary exams, my parents sent me to the seaside for a holiday, then the following year I started tertiary school. I went to parties, made friends, studied, fell in love and had my heart broken then, after two years, I met you.” She smiled fondly at her husband and the father of her children. “If we go forward with your plan, when’s Nai going to get to do all those things?”

Scholar Sung put down his tea and his journal. “We meant to do everything we did for the others for her too, and yet,” he made a helpless gesture. “I can’t see any other way to make it up to her.”

“At the expense of giving her time to finish growing up? I’ve seen the list of characteristics you’ve drawn up to aid your search for a suitable husband.” She smiled gently at him, “It sounds like you’re trying to find a friend for yourself to discuss poetry and play go with, not a husband for a young woman.” The smile turned sad and pained, “She doesn’t need a husband who doesn’t think she’s important, she’s had enough of that from us. Mightn’t it have been better to give her a party for the end of her exams, even if it was late, and then work out how we could help her get into the course she wants next year?”

“It’s too late to get her into a good school for next year,” Kao said pettishly. “She’s the great-great granddaughter of a reincarnated scholar and the sister of one, if we could only identify which of her brothers it is. There are only a few universities she should go to.”

“Then perhaps we should let her have her road trip,” suggested his wife, “and enjoy time with her friend and their teacher?” Something else occurred to her, “How could you arrange for this Master Que to teach her without meeting him?”

“I didn’t arrange for him to teach her,” Kao carefully put down his cup. “I thought you arranged it. I merely made some enquiries once I received his first account. So who did arrange it?”

“Oh dear,” Nai’s mother sat down heavily on a vacant chair. “She did. She was six. She must have thought that going around to a gi school with a plate of biscuits or treats for the teacher was how you got a gi teacher, because that was what she saw. The poor little mite, it would have been when I was sick having Jin.” She covered her face with her hands. “Whatever must he think of us?”

I wrote this in response to aldersprig's last prompt, "more Nai, or ha ri."

“Publicity is the best way to get people looking for your daughter quickly, Scholar Sung,” the policeman pointed out patiently to Nai’s father.

“But we’ve just started trying to find her a husband,” protested Sung Kao. “Running away from home is not the sort of accomplishment of my daughter’s that I want to draw attention to.”

The policeman’s gaze sharpened. “Indeed, sir? And what did Nai think about your decision that she’s ready for marriage?”

Her father looked flummoxed. “She didn’t say anything. She’s a good girl who does as she’s told…”

“Who walked out of the house the next day and hasn’t come back,” pointed out the policeman. He sighed inwardly. For a bright man Scholar Sung needed a lot of things pointed out to him. If he didn’t want to provide a photo of his missing daughter for the press, then he probably wasn’t going to like the next suggestion either. “I’d like Constable Kim,” he indicated his female constable, “to look through your daughter’s room to see if there are any clues your family might have missed. Under your wife’s supervision, of course.”

“I don’t see why you need to do that,” huffed Nai’s father.

“I’m sure you’ve already looked, sir,” soothed the policeman, “but Constable Kim has had more experience with young women who’ve gone missing than I expect you to have had. There may be some little thing that didn’t seem significant to you, but before that can you and Madam Sung tell us about your daughter’s friends?”

“Nai’s never brought anyone to the house,” offered her mother quietly. “Never.”

“So no boyfriends, that you know of,” noted the policeman as he wrote in his notebook. “Is there anyone, a classmate or a teacher, we could speak to?”

The Sungs exchanged a glance and Madam Sung said in a slightly guilty tone, “I’m afraid we haven’t been to any of Nai’s school events in recent years.”

“You must understand, Sergeant,” her husband put in smoothly, “that all of our other children attend selective or specialist secondary schools and we’ve had children in up to six different secondary schools at once. It hasn’t been uncommon for us to have three school functions on in the one night and there are only two of us.”

“Indeed sir,” the policeman agreed smoothly. “Now, she was supposed to be going to a gi class. What about her gi teacher?”

“He’s closed up shop and taken some protégé off on the professional circuit,” complained Scholar Sung. “At least we know that can’t be Nai, gi teachers are never backwards in asking for more fees if they think a student is any good and would benefit from extra lessons. This one hasn’t upped his fees since Nai started with him when she was six.”

“That is unusual,” agreed the policeman. “And his name sir?”

“Master Que Tzu,” replied Scholar Sung. “I’ve never met him but when I made enquiries I was assured that he is qualified to teach gi.”

The policeman looked slightly stunned and replied gently, “Yes, he would be that. You said your daughter has been his student since she was six? I think I can assure you, sir and madam, that if your daughter has gone off with Master Que and his protégé then she is perfectly safe.”