Chapter Forty-Five Ancient Arithmetic

  Only Song Kai and Sun Xi Mei were left in the room.

  Song Kai stood up and looked around the room, saw the dresser, walked over, fiddled with the rouge, studied the comb and copper mirror.

  "That's a girl's thing, you're really shameless," Sun Ximei sat at the table, sipping tea and complaining.

  "I'm just taking a look, I've never seen one before," Song Kai said, looking again at Li Menghuan's bed, which had a wooden canopy with intricate carvings on the ceiling that were very beautiful.

  I'm going, this is really a waste, even ordinary beds are handicrafts, and they're handmade.

  Although curious, Song Kai did not go up and sit down after all it was a girl's boudoir.

  After circling around, Song Kai returned to the living room and study.

  "Don't wander around anymore, or else the maid in the window will take you for a flower thief," Sun Ximei said with a smile.

  Song Kai glanced at the window and saw a small head quickly withdraw from view.

  This little girl, I look so decent, how can I be a flower thief, and actually guard against me.

  Song Kai sat down at his desk, deep in thought.

  "Hey, you promised to compose a poem for Menghan just now, hurry up and think," reminded Sun Ximei.

  "Oh, right," Song Kai sat in front of Li Menghan's desk, thought for a moment, and chuckled, "Got it, fortunately my language skills are good enough, otherwise I really couldn't have done it."

  "What language is this?" Sun Ximei asked.

  "It's nothing, nothing," Song Kai waved his hand and lowered his head to look at Li Menghan's desk. On the desk was a very elegant brush, and the rice paper spread out on the table emitted a faint fragrance, with both the scent of bamboo and the delicate scent of a woman.

  On the rice paper were written a few lines of words, which were two arithmetic problems. The first problem was about monks.

  Lofty ancient temple in the mountains and forests, unknown how many monks inside the temple.

  Three hundred and sixty-four bowls, see if they are used up without any difference in dispute.

  Three people share a bowl of rice, four people share a bowl of soup.

  "May I ask, sir, how many monks are there in the temple?"

  Song Kai couldn't help but laugh, this ancient arithmetic problem was actually quite interesting. He looked down and saw that Li Menghan had written a dense and intricate solution process using the ranking method, with phrases like "three people gathering together, how many bowls are needed", "four people sharing a dish, how many bowls are needed", and then breaking down 364 into possible values.

  A question was densely packed on a whole sheet of paper, but in the end, I finally got the answer, and there were 624 monks.

  Song Kai rubbed his nose, this topic is just a linear equation, but it involves division operations, so it's a bit more complicated.

  The following questions are a bit more difficult, and I estimate that they were set by Li Menghan's old father himself.

  "There are a total of 100 horses, divided into large horses, medium horses and small horses. A large horse can carry three bags of rice, a medium horse can carry two bags of rice, and it takes two small horses to carry one bag of rice. With exactly 100 bags of rice to be carried, how many large, medium and small horses are there?"

  The words below were Li Menghan's curses. She was probably furious and cursed all arithmetic problems as unrealistic fantasies, cursing her father to never ride a horse for the rest of his life.

  Song Kai burst out laughing.

  Sun Ximei looked at Song Kai with a strange expression.

  Song Kai thought for a moment, picked up his brush and wrote on the rice paper. This topic was just a simple cubic equation, three minutes later, Song Kai had already given the answer, but the answer was not unique, there were six groups, however, it was really very simple, roughly equivalent to the level of a sixth-grade elementary school student.

  "What are you writing? Poetry?" Sun Ximei walked over.

  Song put down the brush pen, shook his head, "I don't even know how to write characters, let alone poetry. Let's stick to the old routine, I'll dictate and you write."

  Sun Ximei walked to the table, saw Song Kai's scribbles, with "X", "Y", "Z" and all that, got a fright, hastily pulled up Song Kai, saying: "You're so unruly, this is Meng Huan's homework paper, it needs to be handed in for Mr. Dong to check."

  Song Kai stood up and confessed his crime.

  Sun Ximei hastily picked up a white paper and covered the one underneath, saying: "Alright, you say it, I'll write."

  Song Kai thought for a moment, brewed his emotions, and recited Su Shi's "Mid-Autumn Moon": "The evening clouds have all dispersed, revealing the clear coldness. The Milky Way silently revolves around the jade plate. This life, this night, will not last long. Where can we see the bright moon next year?"

  Sun Ximei held her brush, savored it carefully, nodded and said: "Indeed a good poem, Song Lang's talent is worthy of being called a great Confucian scholar."

  As she spoke, Sun Ximei took up her pen and began writing.

  After finishing, Sun Ximei took another look and said, "Although it's not as stunning as 'Shui Diao Ge Tou', this kind of poetry is enough to become the number one poem in Suzhou City. Even if Li Taibai were reborn, he wouldn't dare say that he surpasses Song Lang you."

  Song Kai waved his hand, he couldn't take these praises anymore, to be honest, he was just a plagiarist.

  "With this poem, it seems that Meng Huan will no longer blame you for your careless writing and painting," Sun Xi Mei let out a sigh of relief and smiled.

  Two people were talking when Li Menghan rushed in, panting, her small but well-proportioned chest rising and falling, quite enticing.

  "How is it?" Song Kai asked.

  Li Menghan gave Song Kai a white eye, pouting her small mouth, "It's all your fault! My dad scolded me severely!"

  "Why?" Song Kai said with a frown, "Isn't it just asking your dad for help? Besides, he's really stingy."

  "What a small-minded person! My father said your tea leaves are not bad, if you don't quote a high price, he can make your tea leaves the only specially supplied tea for the Mid-Autumn Poetry Party," Li Menghuan immediately retorted upon hearing Song Kai mention her own father.

  "What's the point of criticizing you," Song Kai wondered.

  Li Menghan hummed and said in a depressed tone: "He said that I'm useless, only knowing how to make money and do business, saying that I'm not worthy of great things. He also said that it's all because of you that I've become like this. It seems, Song Kai, that you'll never be able to get my father's approval in this lifetime."

  "Ah?" Song Kai didn't expect himself to get such an evaluation.

  Li Menghan said with a smile, "My father also said that you can't bribe him, and as for the Huakai competition, he will score fairly, whoever sings and dances well, he will vote for them."

  Song rubbed his head.

  "Alright, alright, you two go first. Sister Mei, I'll come find you after I finish my homework. If my dad comes later, you two will definitely get scolded again. My dad doesn't leave any face at all." Li Menghan said quickly, her big watery eyes glancing at Song Kai from time to time.

  Sun Ximei was also frightened and hastily said: "Let's go, let's go, I'm most afraid of my uncle."

  Song Kaiyi also walked out, and Dong Changyun was a great Confucian scholar of the present day. He had been scolded by him, and he couldn't fight back or retort, but more importantly, he still had to smile and listen to his reprimand with a flattering expression, which was really embarrassing.

  "Let's go," Song Kai waved his hand, "the poem is on your desk, tell that unreasonable father of yours that my tea leaves are very cheap, free supply is also okay, as long as it becomes the only exclusive tea supplier, remember, it's the only one, and also to make our Red Dust Inn famous..."

  Song Kai was dragged out of the room by Sun Xi Mei while he was still talking.

  Two people had just left, a man with a towel on his head, wearing a blue long gown, with a serious face, walked slowly into Li Menghuan's courtyard with his hands behind his back. It was the current great Confucian scholar Dong Changyun, the husband of the princess.