As the woman in front of him walked farther away, leaving behind the words "coward," Lu Xiaoliu scratched the back of his head.
He wanted to defend his Brother Xiao, but even he had to admit that Sister-in-law had a point.
Still, Lu Xiaoliu felt his Brother Xiao hadn't done anything wrong either.
"Turns out dealing with feelings is harder than studying. Brother Xiao really has it rough..."
He sighed and went back to digging bamboo shoots.
After filling half a basket, he decided he had enough and slung the basket over his back, heading home.
Back at his courtyard, Lu Xiaoliu untied a piece of cured meat hanging from the eaves, chopped some firewood, lit a fire, and set up the stove. He steamed a small pot of rice as well.
Although, at his level of cultivation, he no longer needed to eat, Lu Xiaoliu—like most cultivators—still kept the habit.
After all, eating was something ingrained over decades. How could it be abandoned overnight?
Even if his stomach wasn't hungry, skipping a meal would leave his heart feeling empty.
Soon, the aroma of stir-fried cured meat with bamboo shoots and freshly steamed rice wafted from the courtyard.
"Cough, cough."
Just as Lu Xiaoliu sat down with his bowl of rice, ready to enjoy a delicious lunch, a cough came from outside the courtyard.
Lu Xiaoliu shuddered and leaped to his feet.
Turning around, he saw the old headmaster standing behind him. Bowing deeply, Lu Xiaoliu's forehead beaded with cold sweat, his expression somewhat awkward.
"Headmaster, what brings you here? What wind blew you in today?"
White Deer Academy's headmaster, Qi Zhengju, smiled faintly. "It was the fragrant wind of your cooking that brought me here. You've got some nerve, you know that?
The year before last, you stole my cured meat. Last year, you filched my eggs. And this year, you've gone and dug up my bamboo shoots."
His gaze swept over the table laden with food. "Oh, and it seems you've cooked it all up, too. What, have you been waiting three years for this one meal?"
"Not exactly," Lu Xiaoliu chuckled sheepishly. "Just a coincidence, really. Care to join me, Headmaster?"
Qi Zhengju didn't respond immediately, instead glancing down at the low wooden gate barring his way.
Lu Xiaoliu quickly got the message and rushed over to open it. "Please, Headmaster, come in."
"Hmm, that's more like it," Qi Zhengju said as he walked over and sat at the table. Lu Xiaoliu hurried to serve him a bowl of rice.
The headmaster tasted the stir-fried bamboo shoots and cured meat, then tried the spicy scrambled eggs, smacking his lips appreciatively.
"Not bad, not bad. You've got some skill in the kitchen," he remarked.
"You're too kind, Headmaster. As long as you enjoy it," Lu Xiaoliu replied, no longer standing on ceremony. He sat down beside the headmaster and began eating as well.
They ate in silence, not exchanging a single word.
Before long, the dishes had been nearly wiped clean, save for one last piece of cured meat.
Both their chopsticks landed on it simultaneously.
Qi Zhengju glanced at Lu Xiaoliu.
Lu Xiaoliu chuckled awkwardly and withdrew his chopsticks.
Satisfied, Qi Zhengju took the last piece and ate it. He patted his belly contentedly, sipped his tea, and said, "Do you know why I came to see you today?"
Lu Xiaoliu looked at him. "You didn't just come here to eat, did you, Headmaster?"
"Do you think I'm the kind of man who casually visits students' homes for a meal?" Qi Zhengju rapped Lu Xiaoliu on the head with the back of his chopsticks.
Lu Xiaoliu pouted, mumbling, "Well, all the ingredients were yours anyway, so I guess it's your call…"
"What did you say?" Qi Zhengju asked.
Lu Xiaoliu quickly shook his head. "Nothing, nothing."
Qi Zhengju picked up a bamboo toothpick and poked at his teeth. "There's something I need you to do."
"Me?" Lu Xiaoliu pointed at himself.
"Yes, you." Qi Zhengju shot him a sideways glance. "I need you to make a trip to the Wu Kingdom."
"Wu Kingdom? What for?" Lu Xiaoliu asked in confusion.
"You've heard of Xu Ming, haven't you?" Qi Zhengju said.
"Of course! That famous genius from the Wu Kingdom. I've read one of his poems—it's remarkable how he could write such timeless verses at such a young age. Truly extraordinary," Lu Xiaoliu said with a nod. "And I heard he recently achieved top honors in three successive exams."
Qi Zhengju nodded. "Go see him, evaluate him, and see if he meets our academy's standards. If he's suitable and willing, invite him to join the academy."
"Is that all?" Lu Xiaoliu asked.
"And there's Xiao Mochi," Qi Zhengju added calmly. "Talk to him. Try to persuade him not to throw his life away."
Lu Xiaoliu furrowed his brow, stood up, and bowed deeply to the headmaster. "Understood. I'll take care of it."
---
In the capital city of Wu Kingdom, at the Prime Minister's residence, Xiao Mochi stood outside the study with his hands behind his back.
The study door was ajar, and inside, an elderly gentleman was holding a brush, writing a memorial to the emperor.
Outside, heavy rain fell in thick drops onto the stone-paved courtyard, creating ripples upon ripples in the water.
The raindrops under the eaves danced like the notes of a zither, big and small beads striking a jade plate, evoking an ancient and timeless melody.
The lanterns under the eaves swayed in the rain, casting their light onto the grey tiles and dark bricks. Not far from the study, a bridge emerged and disappeared in the rain's veil. On it, maids and attendants, holding oil-paper umbrellas, moved briskly.
The air carried the earthy scent of damp soil, mingled with the faint fragrance of flowers and the freshness of rainwater.
For most scholars, rainy days were a delight.
Xiao Mochi was no exception.
He enjoyed listening to the rain, letting his mind drift—it was his favorite way to relax.
But today, his mind was restless.
Still, Xiao Mochi never doubted his decisions.
"It's finished." Prime Minister Fang came out of the study and handed the memorial to Xiao Mochi. "Do you want to take a look?"
Xiao Mochi shook his head. "There's no need. Thank you for your trouble, Prime Minister."
Fang Ling didn't press further. He tucked the memorial away, clasped his hands behind his back, and gazed at the rain-soaked courtyard outside the study. "Tomorrow, I'll submit this memorial and formally request to retire and return to the countryside.
Xiao Mochi, don't forget what you promised me. If you do, I won't let you off."
Xiao Mochi nodded. "Rest assured, Prime Minister. I won't forget."
"No, I think you truly don't understand yet."
Fang Ling sighed, patted Xiao Mochi's shoulder, and walked back into the study.
"Xiao Mochi, although our philosophies often differ, I deeply admire you.
So, don't die."