Su Wenhao took out a handful of copper coins, about twenty or thirty coins, and said, "Uncle, could you do me a favor?"
Lowering his voice, he said sincerely, "To tell you the truth, I had a fight with my brother and my father, so I ran away from home for a while to take a break."
Chen Qingshan was still hesitating.
"I'll pay more."
Su Wenxuan took out another twenty or thirty coins.
"Alright. This isn't about the money." Chen Qingshan readily accepted it.
The two settled down temporarily at the east end of the village.
Su Wenxuan asked curiously, "Are there any literate people in the village?"
Chen Qingshan said with a smug look, "What a coincidence, that's me."
Su Wenxuan asked in confusion, "The Master of Liaozhai?"
"Um?"
Su Wenxuan scratched his head.
"Are there any other literate people around the same age as this uncle?"
Chen Qingshan asked doubtfully, "Could it really be a coincidence? Could it be Dazhu's father?"
"He recently wrote an article."
Su Wenxuan looked excited.
"That's him. It matches up. Uncle Fu said he was a man in his thirties, with two teenagers."
Then the two brothers went to find Chen Xian excitedly.
Su Wenxuan looked on with anticipation.
"It must be like the reclusive sages described in the book, who rise at dawn to tend the overgrown fields and return home with a hoe under the moon."
He was dressed in the elegant attire of a scholar, with a touch of decadence.
We arrived at the Chen family's residence.
Chen Xian was eating stir-fried wild vegetables with eggs, drinking broad bean porridge, and eating steamed buns.
Suddenly a voice came from behind, "Master Liaozhai?"
Chen Xian looked up.
But then he saw a young man dressed in coarse cloth clothes looking at him with a bewildered expression.
It was during the busy farming season, and Chen Xian was covered in dust, his hair was messy, and his skin was tanned dark.
His chin was covered with bluish stubble.
His clothes were made of coarse cloth and patched, and his trousers were rolled up at the ankles.
He picked up the bowl and spun it around as he drank the porridge.
Su Wenxuan asked again, "Master Liaozhai?"
Chen Xian observed that the two young men were dressed in clean coarse cloth clothes, with fair skin and smooth, jade-like wrists and necks.
He was clearly a young man from a wealthy family.
Chen Xian: "What's up?"
Su Wenxuan said, "This doesn't make sense."
Su Wenhao also looked at him with curiosity.
Su Wenxuan looked like his idol image had been shattered.
It's as if one thinks a fairy is untouched by worldly affairs, with a distant and indifferent expression. Ordinary people would feel inferior and timid just talking to such a person.
I happened to see the fairy with her socks casually off, shoes scattered all over the floor, picking her nose with her little finger, her feet on the table, looking utterly defiant: Are you teaching me?
The appearance of his Dao heart shattering.
Su Wenxuan's body went limp like a punctured balloon, and he lowered his head, staring silently at the ground.
Su Wenhao comforted him, "Alright, brother, what's with the affectation? You think of that gentleman as a reclusive master? Haven't you heard that the old monk of Wangjiang Temple often spouts Zen and Buddhist koans that are hard to understand, and he's mysterious and unapproachable!"
He was still like an old farmer, down-to-earth and very easy to get along with. Besides, I glanced at the storybook; it truly had profound meaning only someone who had experienced life's hardships and been ravaged by time could produce such thought-provoking content.
Su Wenxuan seemed to come alive, his body instantly straightening up. He had always had a dream, one that had been weighing on his heart.
He strode up to Chen Xian, bowed, and said, "Please teach me, sir."
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