Chapter 8: The Great Barrier Between Men and Women to Spies
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Upon hearing this, Lin Xihe tightened the fan around her chest. "Don't talk nonsense, this is clearly mine."
"There's a tooth mark on the left fan rib," Lin Pinyan said, "that's from when she teased the horse with the fan. I also painted the fan surface."
Lin Xihe looked down and saw a bite mark clearly visible on the fan rib.
That brat was right.
It's not a system.
The ugly black-faced monster painted on the fan was actually herself?!
Clues flashed through my mind: Little Fatty gave the fan to Wen Zhixu after he finished painting it, and then the fan fell from the sky...
Therefore, there can only be one murderer.
The Wen family mansion is on the other side of the courtyard wall. This fan must have been thrown over there by Wen Zhixu!
So he saw it all! Including her stupid act of saying "hello system, I am the host" to thin air?
No wonder he didn't say a word; he must have been holding back his laughter so hard he injured himself!
In the bronze mirror, the girl's face changed from red to green, and finally turned completely black.
"Sister, could you plead with your brother-in-law? Hmm? Could you perhaps reduce the price for the repairs?"
"You want me to plead with him?!" Lin Xihe's fist hardened.
Lin Pinyan didn't come empty-handed; he came to present a treasure—he took out a bronze object, shaped like a disc, with a raised center, and a knot of red cloth tied between the two pieces.
"Sister, this is for you." When asking someone for a favor, you have to give them a gift first.
Lin Xihe snapped out of her embarrassment and looked closely, only to see that her younger brother had handed her a pair of cymbals.
She recognized this; in Journey to the West, Sun Wukong was trapped in a golden cymbal for three days and turned into water. When she was a child, she went back to her hometown with her parents, and there happened to be a funeral in the village. As soon as the suona horn sounded, the cymbals soared into the sky.
However, the pair of cymbals in front of us are small in size and exquisitely crafted, making them seem more like musical instruments for children.
As lunchtime approached, the maids laid out several dishes of appetizers, including a dish called "Three Crispy Delicacies of the Mountain Family." Lin Pinyan picked up several tender bamboo shoots for Lin Xihe, leaving only some small mushrooms and a few scattered goji berry tips on the plate.
Lin Xihe wasn't in a hurry to eat. She casually picked up the pair of small cymbals and started banging them out in a rhythm, humming a tune about nunchucks.
"Big sister is amazing!" The chubby boy's eyes lit up. "My mom always forces me to learn this. Can you teach me?"
"..." Lin Xihe was speechless for a moment. Isn't it something that anyone with hands can do?
Seeing that Lin Xihe did not believe him, Lin Pinyan took the cymbals and struck them for a while, but none of them landed on the beat.
“I could never hit it right, so my mother would hit my palm with a slap.”
Lin Xihe looked at the chubby boy with a hint of sympathy; it turned out that there were also "musical boys" in ancient times.
Lin Xihe: "If you're not good at musical instruments, try other talents. There are many paths to Rome."
"Mule or horse?" the chubby boy repeated.
Sigh, it's like talking to a brick wall with an ancient person. Lin Xihe patted his sturdy shoulder and said, "Little Lin, just study hard and you'll become the top scholar in the imperial examination in the future, won't that be great?"
Lin Pinyan immediately fell silent.
Seeing his reaction, Lin Xihe thought to herself, if I can't get into Tsinghua or Peking University, I can at least get into a first-tier university, or if all else fails, I can spend some money to go to a private university and get a diploma.
She softened her tone and comforted him, "Being the top scholar is a bit difficult, but passing the provincial examination is fine too."
Lin Pinyan: "..."
Time seemed to stand still, and the delicacies on the porcelain plate were no longer touched.
Lin Xihe raised her eyelashes: "Your grades aren't good?"
Lin Pinyan nodded hesitantly, then pulled out a crumpled roll of Xuan paper from her bosom and said aggrievedly, "My teacher punished me by making me copy 'The Biographies of Merchants.' Sister, could you help me copy it a few times?"
"Sister, please, just a few times."
"Sister~" Lin Pinyan poured fragrant soup for Lin Xihe.
Faced with the sweet-coated bullets of the chubby ancient version of the cute boy, Lin Xihe pinched her thigh: Lin Xihe! You are a true and upright successor of socialism, you must hold on!
Seeing that Lin Xihe remained unmoved, the child took out a round box the size of a jewelry box from another sleeve pocket.
He muttered softly, "This is my second brother..." Afraid that Lin Xihe wouldn't understand, the child emphasized again, "It's the cicada that your future husband caught for me, and he's giving it to you."
Seeing his reluctant expression, Lin Xihe leaned closer and asked, "What good stuff is it?"
Inside the exquisite round box lay a worm whose entire body gleamed with a metallic sheen.
"Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!!"
Insects were Lin Xihe's Achilles' heel, and the situation briefly spiraled out of control.
In the midst of the chaos, she became certain in her heart that Lin Pinyan was a spy sent by Wen Zhixu to frame her!
"Qingwu, see you off!"
The maids and servants stepped forward and escorted the young master out, one on each side.
"Sister, sister! I was wrong..." The cries gradually faded away outside the corridor.
The second day of the time travel.
Lin Xihe was pleasantly surprised by a major blunder from the system. Instead of a cheat code, she was given a whole host of frights at the start.
She was about to send someone to return the books Lin Pinyan had left behind when a note slipped out from among them.
[Fifty times. If you don't copy it well tomorrow, don't come to school.]
The signature was hastily written, and it seemed to be the master's name.
"Fifty times?" Lin Xihe flipped through the book. Such a long article, punished by copying it fifty times? Is that old man even human?
The sharp-tongued Lin Xihe pinned her hopes on her chief assistant, Qingwu, who, besides having a considerable appetite, was practically an all-rounder.
"Fifty times is all it takes. Many hands make light work!" She glanced at the old woman and maid in the room, full of confidence.
Unexpectedly, the loyal Qingwu whispered, "Miss, I can't write." The others beside her nodded silently.
After a moment of silence, Lin Xihe squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth: "...Bring me a pen."
The original owner was mentally challenged and had never learned to write; there wasn't even a proper desk in the room.
The maids busied themselves moving the writing implements to the spacious eight-immortal table, but after looking them over, the young master shook his head and said, "How can I write on a dining table? How can I even move around properly!"
The group then moved to the stone table in the backyard.
The last rays of the setting sun quickly faded, and there was no wind tonight. The soft candlelight surrounded Linxi He in the center.
She struggled to recall the remaining memories from her elementary school calligraphy classes, her hands trembling as she wrote each stroke. Sweat streamed down her cheeks, spreading into a blotch on the rice paper.
Qingwu stood by, anxiously waiting for her mistress.
The newly lit candle burned down to almost nothing in the blink of an eye, but the paper only had the words "the sounds of chickens and dogs could be heard" added to it.
She glanced at it and saw that the young lady's calligraphy was crooked and messy.
Ugh, this handwriting... it's uniquely ugly. Even though Qingwu is wholeheartedly devoted to protecting her master, she can't find a single word of praise to say.
"Traditional Chinese characters are so hard to write!" Lin Xihe shook her sore and numb hands. "Qingwu, quickly find me a good pen!"
“Miss…” Qingwu hesitated. The truth was hurtful; even with Zihao in hand, the young lady’s writing was still like a crab running sideways.
"I deliberately wrote it ugly." Lin Xihe said cryptically, "When we parents do the kids' homework, the worst thing is for their handwriting to be too neat. Otherwise, the teacher—ah, I mean the tutor—that old man will get suspicious and punish them by making them rewrite it a hundred times. What are we going to do then?"
Qingwu reminded him, "Young Master has been learning calligraphy since childhood. I heard from the servants that when he is serious, his handwriting is very elegant."
"..." Lin Xihe fell silent. In ancient times, calligraphy was an essential skill for everyone!
Forget it, let's just give up!
She grabbed three calligraphy brushes, lined them up in a row, and used the long-lost "high-efficiency method of punishment copying for primary school students" to write three lines of characters at once.
The sounds of chickens and dogs can be heard from one side to the other...
The sounds of chickens and dogs can be heard from one side to the other...
The sounds of chickens and dogs can be heard from one side to the other...
Fifty repetitions as punishment is enough to appease the teacher. If they pursue the matter further, we can just have my cheapskate father smooth things over.
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Separated by a wall is the backyard of Yinquan Pavilion in the Duke of Wen's mansion.
Wen Zhixu: I took a walk after dinner to aid digestion.
The personal servants went out to search for the bird: Wen Qi went door to door inquiring about the whereabouts of the Azure Phoenix, while Wen Ba went to the bird shops in the market.
Only the loyal dog, Mo Hu, lay at its owner's feet. Suddenly, it perked up its ears—it heard voices coming from next door.
Wen Zhixu didn't even lift his eyelids: "Don't listen to that, the house next door is a den of idiots, go back to your doghouse."
Mo Hu insisted on listening! It darted to the corner of the wall, its whimpers filled with urgency—this was clearly the benefactor who had given it the steamed buns!
A single meal's kindness deserves a thousandfold repayment! The black tiger barked incessantly at the wall.
The preface to the article foreshadowed something ominous.
Sure enough, a girl's clear shout came from the other side of the wall: "Whose dog is this, barking like that in the middle of the night!"
The scolding wasn't loud, but it made Mo Hu tuck its tail between its legs in grievance: "Woof...woof."
Two years ago, Wen Zhixu, trusting a Persian merchant, spent a large sum of money to buy a tigon dog that was said to be able to hunt bears. The puppy had brown and black stripes all over its body and looked like a small tiger.
Unexpectedly, after raising it for a while, its fur faded, and it became indistinguishable from a street dog. Wen Zhixu vaguely felt cheated, but Mo Hu had an astonishing appetite. One day, it put its two front paws on Lin Pinyan's shoulders, scaring the little tyrant so much that he wet his pants.
At that time, Wen Zhixu still harbored a sliver of hope; looking at his beloved dog's rapidly growing physique, perhaps it really could hunt.
Until last spring's hunt, Mo Hu trembled at the sight of even a hare, let alone a black bear. Wen Zhixu was completely disillusioned and cried out that he had been tricked.
Since things have come to this, and the dog was the one he chose, he has no choice but to spoil it.
At this moment, his precious baby stubbornly dug in the dirt, whimpering and grumbling, wanting nothing more than to run to see Lin Xihe.
With a whoosh, something flew from next door and hit the black tiger squarely on the head. It whimpered twice in grievance, but still managed to pick up the "weapon" and run back to its owner's feet to complain.
"Serves you right," Wen Zhixu said with exasperation. "You want to ask her for steamed buns? I'll give you some tomorrow."
The flying object turned out to be a crumpled piece of Xuan paper. Unable to contain his curiosity, Wen Zhixu reached out and flattened the paper.
The sounds of chickens and dogs can be heard from one side to the other...
The sounds of chickens and dogs can be heard from one side to the other...
The sounds of chickens and dogs can be heard from one side to the other...
The characters were written crookedly and haphazardly, like a child newly learning to trace characters, with no sense of order or structure.
The sounds of chickens and dogs can be heard from one side to the other...?
Wen Zhixu frowned as he compared a few lines: "...the sounds of chickens and dogs could be heard within earshot?"
The paper was filled with a large number of illegible characters with strange structures, as if the characters had been simplified.
This is something no ordinary person could come up with, and the further you look, the more outrageous it becomes.
As he continued writing, the man clearly ran out of patience and started drawing pictures of chickens and dogs.
A chicken and a dog are fighting each other on the paper, creating quite a lively scene.
Wen Zhixu's temples throbbed as he read this; he couldn't understand Lin Xihe's approach at all.
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"Hey, why isn't the dog barking?" Lin Xihe threw down her calligraphy brush. "Qingwu, who lives next door?"
Qingwu shook her head: "It has been empty ever since Madam Wen left the mansion."
Where would a dog come from in an empty house? Recalling her experience working part-time at a pet cafe during her school days in her previous life, Lin Xihe's heart tightened—could it be a stray dog trapped inside? The thought had barely formed in her mind when she nimbly climbed up the artificial hill.
Qingwu's vision went black; her mistress had climbed the artificial hill again! She nearly fainted: "Miss! I beg you, please don't get your head stuck!"
Lin Xihe didn't stop walking; she lightly touched the protruding rocks with her toes to steady herself. As soon as she peeked out, her gaze met the man in the neighboring courtyard.
It's someone I know.
Without a second thought, she raised her hand and uttered a clear, resonant "Hello~"
The moon was veiled by clouds, and a monkey-shaped black shadow suddenly appeared on the top of the artificial mountain. Wen Zhixu's pupils flickered slightly.
"Tch, what's with the airs of a young master? So rude," the shadowy figure cursed.
The author can identify the person by their voice.
At this point, he realized: outrageousness—that was the underlying essence of Linxi He.
A gentle night breeze blew, and the moonlight broke through the clouds at that very moment.
Lin Xihe's eyes darted around, and her gaze locked onto Mo Hu. She waved happily, "Hello, Little Black!"
"Woof woof woof!" Mo Hu flicked his tail, leaving afterimages.
Lin Xihe glanced at them and chuckled, "See? Even a dog understands human nature better than you."
The words floated lightly into Wen Zhixu's ears, like a small nail driven into the skin—no blood was drawn, but it stung.
He had been accustomed to using honorifics since childhood, and no one had ever been so disrespectful to him.
Lin Xihe was the first one.
The servant reported, "Second Young Master, hot water has been prepared, and the temperature is just right. Would you like to take a bath?"
As Wen Zhixu was about to leave, her peripheral vision caught glimpses of figures on the artificial hill. These were hardly the refined ladies of a noble family; they were clearly the wildest monkeys on the mountain.
Lin Xihe... how could she be so shameless? Men and women should be kept separate, yet she didn't even flinch upon hearing about bathing. What kind of behavior is this!
The girl's gaze was completely open and undisguised.
Then, her voice boomed over us: "Aren't you going to take a shower?"
Wen Zhixu suddenly clenched her fingers. Not only did she not know how to be discreet, she even dared to ask?
Seeing him standing like a wooden stake in the opposite courtyard, Lin Xihe casually asked, "Are you and Fatty best buddies?"
Lin Pinyan kept calling him "Second Brother" and "Brother-in-law," as if he wanted the whole city to know that he and Wen Zhixu were the best of lovers in the world.
"Old buddy." Wen Zhixu had never heard such words before. After thinking for a moment, he asked, "Does it mean...young friend?"
Lin Xihe: "More or less."
He, an ancient person, was able to understand modern language from a thousand years later.
Lin Xihe couldn't help but glance at him a few more times. The moonlight outlined his tall and straight figure, and the light from the lantern in the servant's hand shone on his face, illuminating his clear and handsome features. If this were modern times, he would be a classic example of a charming and charismatic man.
The gloom of traveling to ancient times faded a bit. Overjoyed, Lin Xihe blurted out, "Old buddy means good bro."
Wen Zhixu was indeed full of questions: "Good pineapple? What does that mean?"
"Good friend," Lin Xihe mumbled, "a little hug, and I blurted it out."
As the night deepened and the dew grew heavy, the young master's patience ran out.
"Hey, don't go! You can write, right?" the girl on the artificial hill shouted, raising her arm.
When he thought of how he had studied under Xie Lingyun, he was asked "whether he could write?" A sense of absurdity welled up in his heart, and Wen Zhixu almost burst out laughing.
He bowed solemnly in the direction of his mentor's residence: "I began learning calligraphy at the age of three, under the tutelage of Xie Yan."
A note from the author:
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Cymbals: See Chapter 4, "What Toys Did Children Have," in *Daily Life of Song Dynasty People*.
Three Delicacies from the Mountain Home: Refer to the recipe in the appendix of "Daily Life of People in the Song Dynasty".
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