In a room dimly lit by the fresh rays of dawn, a merchant and a martial-arts practitioner sat down with some tea. Scanning through a few loose documents that littered the table, Du Sirui lifted his head,
"Hey Old Shen, what do you think about the kid?" he questioned.
"He's definitely his father's son," Shen Pei replied confidently, "You?"
"To be completely honest, I feel he's lacking."
"16 years old, and already a Juren*. A Jieyuan no less, and he's still not up to your standards?"
"At this rate, he'll be 19 before he even steps into the court." Du Sirui complained. Shen Pei set down his teacup with a blunt thud.
"Du Laoba, has your head been filled with water? This isn't 20 years ago when a random recommendation could land you a fifth-rank position. The way Old Lu rose to power can never be imitated. He himself made sure of that with the list of Hundred Noble Houses. You should know better than anyone."
Startled by Shen Pei's outburst, Du Sirui softened his tone,
"I know, I know. I'm just not reconciled to the measures he left behind. He dispelled the Great Clans and their blatant nepotism, but didn't leave a path for his own descendants either."
"That's true, but then the young master would be too pampered. He's already been sheltered so well by that mother of his." Shen Pei countered.
"I agree, the kid needs some polishing." The conversation gradually cooled down, as their opinions agreed, however, the peace didn't last as the topic moved to their past achievements.
They had both worked with Lu Feng, claiming nonnegligible accomplishments with his support: Shen Pei had been a general in the war against the Liang kingdom. After the peace treaties and settlements, he was unable to keep his position. Thanks to Lu Feng, he later became the emperor emeritus' martial arts teacher. The first general with a bureaucratic role of sorts.
Conversely, Du Sirui did not hold an official post but found fame his own way, through business. Once he established his connection with Lu Feng, he monopolized the ports at Danjiang harbor and turned the capital's Eastern Market into an image of prosperity.
While the old friends were having a pleasant time reminiscing, Lu Yu faced a crisis.
He had been led to the courtyard behind the teahouse, left with a bucket, and told to strip. Before he could protest, the little girl threw him a towel, leaving him to his own devices. As a noble childe from a distinguished family, he was completely lost, but without another option, Lu Yu started undressing.
It was late summer, a time when the autumn wind had just begun to set in. Physicians speak of this season as 'the crossroads where evil winds run rampant. To put it simply, it's windy, thus extremely easy to catch a cold. The boiled water cooled quickly, barely even warm by the time Lu Yu figured out he needed to scrub himself. Reaching for the towel, a burst of wind suddenly blew past his face.
'Rude,' he thought.
It was an arrow, its sharp point embedded deeply into the towel he had been reaching for. Attached was a bottle and a letter,
'Dear student, I hope this finds you in excellent health. How's that tuition payment coming along? A manor in the Jinling district should suffice for the interest. No need for more. Don't forget about those storefronts your father left as collateral. The payment's been long overdue. I want those ownerships transferred by the next time we meet.
On another note, please help me find a scholar by the name of Mu Zhonghuai before the exam. He's my little grand student, your student-nephew. Take care of the guy, ok? I've given you a bottle of special medicine for your troubles. Note: Don't be a glutton. It goes on the skin. Use it wisely!'
Lu Yu winced at the terrible handwriting. Once upon a time, they had been nice, neat characters. Not the best, but not terrible to this extent. In a bout of vanity, he'd once brought up that his calligraphy was better. From that day, it felt like Master Yang tried his best to make him regret it.
He seemed to be going for the 'one stroke' style today, writing as much as possible in one brush. It disregarded the separation of words, sentences, or even paragraphs. It was simply just a single long line, running top to bottom of the page. Lu Yu sighed, at least he could understand what was written this time.
Moving on from the letter, Lu Yu turned to the ointment. He pasted some on his bruised eye, but apart from feeling pleasant, it didn't seem to do much else. Placing it beside the letter, he hoped that Uncle Shen could discern what kind of medicine it was.
Back inside the teahouse, Shen Pei and Du Sirui were unaware of the struggles Lu Yu faced while bathing. The conversation had moved on from childish bickering to something more serious.
Well, kind of.
"Why'd you give him just part of his inheritance? Don't act surprised. There's no way Old Lu only had that much when he left. You better treat me to a meal sometime soon to keep my mouth shut," Shen Pei tried to extort.
"You know how it is. He can't own that much if he's not an official." Du Sirui explained.
"That's no excuse. You gave him all those papers, but not ones that state the ownership. Afraid he'll sell them off?"
"Why ask if you already know the answer?"
"Aw, come on. Is it that hard to get a meal from you?" the bodyguard complained.
"Prepare the carriage." Disregarding his efforts entirely, Du Sirui spoke to the girl who had just returned. Shen Pei could only look on with pleading eyes.
Though he didn't say it aloud, Du Sirui adamantly believed that Lu Yu was far too young for whatever plans Lu Feng held for him. 'Without an official rank, he can legally hold less than one-third of his father's assets, not to mention those not written on paper. Even if he passes the state exam, if he can't even gain the recognition of a mere merchant, then just let him live a life free of worries. For the Lu family, for the country, and for me, that would be the best outcome.' he reasoned.
Seeing the look on Du Laoba's face, Old Shen sighed,
'That kid's got a long way to go.'