Meanwhile, the junior officials who had finished their duties in the hall also went home one after another. Xu Silin and Lin Mo walked side by side on the left corridor of the Hanlin Academy.
A gentle autumn breeze blew, and half a ray of the setting sun fell beside the eaves. The figure of the Ming Dynasty scholar, a scholar who had passed the imperial examination, stood solemnly, his blue robe flowing gracefully.
Lin Mo carried the books for Xu Silin, knowing he was in a bad mood today. He simply lowered his head, gazing at the shadows of the trees on the veranda, and remained silent. Lately, this brother had been behaving very strangely regarding matters related to Shen Qingchen… no, this strangeness had become normal.
Luo Yuanhao is loud and boisterous, and his flattery always manages to offend people. He's not that stupid; he sees through things but doesn't say anything. He's just unsure what the truth behind the abnormality really is.
Suddenly, a phrase popped into my head: "Love arises without knowing its origin, and deepens with each passing moment."
Thinking this, Lin Mo was startled by his own thoughts. Oh no, they were both men. How could he marry his brother? How could he arrange a marriage with three letters and six rites? And where would he find an heir to inherit such a vast family fortune?
Or was he just following the current trend of male chauvinism, wanting to trap that person and play around with her? In the past, when he took a fancy to a girl at Furong Tower, he would go there to listen to her music every few days. Although he was just a paper tiger and never made a move on her, there was still a slightly hazy and ambiguous atmosphere with red gauze draped over the walls and fragrant silk swirling around.
However, at that time, he appeared relaxed and at ease, as if it didn't matter whether he was close to people or not, and even enjoyed the state of being able to maintain his composure and not care much about girls liking him. That state of being relaxed because he didn't like anyone.
The way he apologized today was clearly different from how he acted then.
Lin Mo thought for a moment, then turned his head to look at Xu Silin. He hadn't spoken for a long time; his eyes, dark and bright beneath his brow bone, seemed somewhat lifeless, and the sunlight accentuated his straight nose and slightly pursed lips.
His brother is actually quite good. His family background is excellent, and his appearance is impeccable. He is also very talented and his success in the imperial examination is the icing on the cake. It's just that his temperament is still developing because he is young, but he will mature as much as Teacher Song one day.
He deserves a good girl.
Xu Silin noticed the gaze and turned around, saying, "Lin Mo."
Lin Mo was startled. "Oh, I just wanted to ask you, we agreed a couple of days ago that you'd come to my house for drinks today and bring out that 20-year-old mulberry wine. Are you still going?"
He stared blankly ahead, "I'm not going."
"Then let's reschedule." Lin Mo thought to himself, he really does have something on his mind... and someone.
"Lin Mo," Xu Silin said again, "didn't you like my family's Tianhuang chicken-blood inkstone? I'll give it to you."
Lin Mo was stunned for a moment, wondering if his ears had been softened by the autumn wind, how could he hear such gentle words under such circumstances.
He thought for a moment and said, "That was a gift from Grand Secretary Xu when you came of age. I just really liked it, how could I accept it?" A single inkstone is worth a thousand taels of silver, and what's most precious is that even if you have the money, you can't buy it. Although Lin Mo is also from a prominent family, such a thing is still rare.
"Here you go, keep it. I'll have someone deliver it to your residence later," he said casually. "You like Qinghe, so I'll give you Qinghe as well. If there's anything else you like, just tell me, and I'll give it all to you."
Lin Mo was completely dumbfounded. In the past, he would never get a kind word for flattering him, but today, he hadn't done anything, yet the other man was suddenly being nice to him for no reason, as if the other man owed him something.
"...Brother Xu, why is that?"
"No reason, just accept it." He felt apologetic towards his brother.
Shen Qingchen rested at home today. Although she didn't need to rush to Hanlin Academy, she still got up very early.
It rained in the middle of the night last night, and the temperature suddenly dropped. She woke up from the cold around 5 a.m. The thin blanket was loosely draped over her, but she didn't feel warm at all; it felt like she wasn't covered at all. The wound on her forehead and lip throbbed faintly. Rainwater dripped from the roof tiles outside, making a "drip-drip" sound.
Qingchen got up, put on his clothes, and lit the lamp. He went to his father's bedside and saw him curled up on the bed. He didn't cry out even though he was cold. He just stared blankly with his eyes wide open, which was heartbreaking to see.
She added another quilt for him, but fearing he might kick it off, she sat by his bedside and read a book.
Soon after, her father closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep again, but Qingchen couldn't help but think of her entanglement with Xu Silin at the tavern. If she hadn't been drinking that day, and hadn't happened to see the father and son buying candy, and hadn't remembered how her father had been murdered by a powerful father and son, perhaps she wouldn't have been so agitated.
Her words were a bit harsh. It's inappropriate to mock someone's background, which they can't choose. Even if his behavior was a bit outrageous, his background shouldn't be a reason for him to be mocked.
Xu Yan is Xu Yan, and Xu Silin is Xu Silin. He's just a student like her now. Like her, he's like a frail leaf falling into this vast world; we're all just drifting along with fate.
Gazing at the candlelight, Qingchen couldn't help but sigh softly, placing the book in her hand on her lap and adjusting the outer robe draped over her back.
Judging from his expression, he must have become suspicious of her the moment he touched her that day. Fortunately, it was only for a moment; she fainted again, and the two didn't communicate, so he didn't notice anything amiss. However, she would eventually have to return to Hanlin Academy, and the two would inevitably meet again.
Before returning, she needed to devise a plan to dispel his suspicions. Otherwise, given his past behavior, he might make a scene so everyone could laugh at her, or, like recently, inexplicably dig into her affairs until things finally escalated.
After pondering for a while, dawn broke.
Qingchen wanted to start a fire to cook porridge, but her ankle hurt so much that she couldn't move easily. She had to move a round stool to support herself. After a while, she felt it was too noisy and worried about disturbing her father's sleep, so she simply abandoned the stool and hopped on one leg. This was faster.
Having a rare full day at home, she tidied up the house, washed all the clothes, and hung them out to dry in the yard. After finishing the chores, she returned to her desk to do her homework, review her lessons, and draw comics for Lin Yu... all using the Hetian jade pen that Song Yue had instructed her to use.
Regarding this jade pen, Song Yue had once conducted a surprise inspection in the classroom. Seeing that she obediently held the jade pen, he turned around and returned to the podium without making a sound.
As the sun began to set in the afternoon, Shen Qingchen hopped on one leg, a book tucked under her arm, and helped her father outside to bask in the sun for a while.
In the neighboring courtyard, Mingxiang was mending clothes at a wooden table, looking very focused. Qingchen didn't call her.
She wore a simple, coarse cloth dress, and her hair was unadorned. Her jet-black hair shone brightly in the sunlight, making her truly a naturally beautiful woman.
Looking at her, Qingchen felt that she should marry a very good person who could treat her sincerely, so that she would be worthy of the wonderful qualities that God had given her.
For a moment, she thought of Gu Shaoheng. Gu Shaoheng was a good man, kind-hearted, and from a good family. If Mingxiang could be betrothed to him, that would be wonderful. Unfortunately, the Ming Dynasty had a strict class system, and with her background, she could only become a concubine…
There was also a man selling pork nearby who seemed to have a thing for Mingxiang, but he looked a bit rough around the edges. It felt like he could easily crush Mingxiang's slender waist with just one arm.
Qingchen searched his memory for a suitable candidate. He thought of Sun Siwu, a Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examination), but he was also nearsighted. No good. He then thought of Luo Yuanhao, but he was too smooth and liked to flatter. No good. He searched through his classmates, skipped Xu Silin, and finally couldn't find anyone.
She shook her head helplessly, perhaps because Mingxiang was too good, her own requirements had become too strict.
It is the golden autumn season, the sky is high and the clouds are light, and a flock of wild geese is flying south in the distance.
In this quiet courtyard, free from the intrigues of the imperial court and the hustle and bustle of the city, Qingchen's heart gradually calmed down as he buried himself in the book in his hands.
Just then, a horse-drawn carriage slowly drove up.
Qingchen heard footsteps, looked up and was stunned when he saw who it was.
Song Yue got out of the car and walked towards her carrying several paper packages. His scarlet official robe stood out against the row of green tiles, and his eyes, covered by long eyelashes, looked even more profound in the setting sun.
He walked in, looked at her, and asked, "Don't you recognize me?"
Shen Qingchen snapped out of his daze, quickly stood up and bowed, "This student greets the teacher."
Song Yue sized up the student before him. She was dressed in coarse gray clothes, with a bandage wrapped around her forehead, a cut lip, and her feet looked somewhat unnatural, indicating some kind of injury or illness, but her spirits were still good. He had just seen her reading attentively in the sunlight outside, with freshly washed clothes hanging on a pole beside her, and traces of sweeping on the ground. He felt relieved; he had been worried that it would be deserted outside when he arrived, but when he pushed open the door, she was still lying in bed.
Okay, she has a positive and resilient nature, but he only thought of her as weak because he knew she was a woman.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked softly.
Qingchen shook his head, "They're just minor wounds, they don't hurt much, but they make it a little difficult to move around."
"Are you made of iron?" His gaze swept over her chapped lower lip, meeting her eyes. "You're injured and still doing so much housework. Are you afraid your wound will heal too quickly? Do you dare to slack off and not want to go back to Hanlin for classes?"
Although resilient, they don't know how to take care of themselves. They need to be taught a lesson.
"No, teacher..."
He looked at her with a gentle gaze and said slowly and softly, "Your health is the most important thing. You should recover from your injuries first."
Qingchen nodded. "Yes."
He looked at the person beside her, "Is this your father?"
Qingchen held onto his father's arm. "Yes. Please forgive me, teacher. My father... can't speak properly."
“I know, it’s alright.” He said, glancing at her simple little house. “I’ve come to see you, won’t you invite me in?”
Qingchen then realized that the two of them had been standing and talking for a long time without her inviting him into the house, so she immediately gestured and said, "Please come in, teacher."
She had an injury on her foot and could only hop on one leg. Song Yue followed behind her and saw that under her loose gray clothes was a delicate frame, with soft downy hair on her slender neck and small earlobes.
Qingchen was jumping quite well, but she accidentally kicked a pebble and immediately started to fall forward. Then she felt a strong arm reach out from behind her, and with the wide sleeves fluttering, it steadily caught her waist.
She was startled for a moment, then steadied herself, panting as she looked up at Song Yue. There was almost no distance between them. "...Thank you, teacher."
Song Yue looked down at the person in his arms, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, and released his hand from her waist. "Be careful. If you fall down like this, you'll probably have to ask me for a few more days off."
Qingchen calmed his racing heart and lowered his head to whisper, "Yes."
Once inside, Qingchen helped her father to bed, then led Song Yue to sit down at the small table before hopping over to fetch a kettle to pour him water.
"No need to bother, just sit still while you're injured," he said casually, looking around at the furnishings in the room.
The room was sparsely furnished; a quick glance was enough to see everything. It consisted of two small, old, and narrow rooms with poorly oriented windows, suggesting it would be very cold in winter. However, the rooms were remarkably tidy. Her desk was piled high with books, so much so that one couldn't see her head from where she sat. A blue robe she had changed out of hung neatly on a shelf in the corner.
Shen Qingchen had already brought the teapot to the table and poured water for him. "Teacher, please forgive me. We don't usually have many guests at home, so I didn't prepare tea. Please have some water instead."
Song Yue casually picked up his cup, took a sip, and then said, "Go get some bowls and chopsticks."
Qingchen was taken aback for a moment, "Huh?"
"Go and get the bowls and chopsticks," he said again, then went to the bedside and helped her father over to sit down at the round table.
Qingchen didn't understand, so he could only do as he was told.
Once the bowls and chopsticks were brought, Song Yue unfolded several paper packages. The warm pastries immediately released a fragrant steam, filling the room with their aroma. The pastries included straw raincoat-shaped fried cakes, peach blossom shumai, jade steamed cakes, and coriander and crab roe dumplings… each one exquisite, still warm, and glistening with a delicate sheen of oil, much to the wear and tear on Song Yue's horse.
"I bought this for you, eat it while it's still hot." He handed her chopsticks. "If you have any questions, ask them after you've eaten. I'm hungry. Your father is hungry too."
Qingchen felt a surge of emotion, a tightness in his chest.
Song Yue placed a crab roe dumpling in her bowl. The crab roe filling was made from the fattest crab roe of autumn. When you bite into the dumpling skin, the yellow broth will flow out, accompanied by a rich crab aroma. Because of the addition of coriander, it is not greasy and is very refreshing.
Qingchen took a small bite, and the long-awaited delicious taste brought a surge of satisfaction. Looking at her caring teacher, she felt a lump in her throat and couldn't help but say, "Thank you, teacher."
He was the prime minister of this vast land, a savior of the world admired by countless people in history books, and the idol she had searched through historical records for all the information about him... To meet him in this Ming Dynasty, and for him to become her teacher and care for her so much, she still finds it hard to believe that she has such good fortune.
Song Yue didn't answer, but raised his gaze slightly and landed on her bandaged forehead. "How did you fall down the stairs?"
“Yesterday, while drinking with them at the tavern, I accidentally missed a step and tumbled down the stairs.”
"I heard you had a fight with Xu Silin?"
She nodded.
He looked at her and asked calmly, "Why?"
She lowered her head. "...It was my fault. I acted impulsively and made sarcastic remarks about his background. I probably angered him."
After a moment of silence, he asked again, "Mocking his background...do you dislike him?"
"It's not that I dislike him, it's just that I have some preconceived notions; he's a member of Xu's faction..."
Song Yue hummed in response, "Come here."
Shen Qingchen went to him as instructed. He carefully examined the wound on her forehead and gestured to the medicine on the table. "There are good gauze and medicine inside. You can use those when you need to change the gauze. It won't hurt much."
"Um."
"Next time you drink, don't be so impulsive. Don't be angry or impatient. Although he is a member of Xu's faction, he is still your classmate. Right now, all the political struggles and factional strife are irrelevant to you. Just focus on learning your skills. The future is uncertain, so we'll talk about it later."
Qingchen nodded, "Yes, student will listen to everything the teacher says."
Outside the window, the moon had risen above the willow branches, and the starlight was clear and faint.
The leaves of the sycamore tree fell silently.
After finishing the pastries, Song Yue went to Qingchen's desk, where she saw various kinds of books laid out. Besides classics, histories, philosophical works, and literary collections, there were also works like *Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art*, *The Exploitation of the Works of Nature*, *The Great Ming Dynasty's Territory*, *Dream Pool Essays*, and *Building Standards*, covering a wide range of topics and showing how eclectic her reading was. Each book was covered with her notes. The pages of *Building Standards*, in particular, were worn soft from her frequent use.
She lives such a meager life, yet she spends so much money to buy these books... Several of them are about civil engineering. How could a woman like her like these?
Qingchen was clearing away the dishes and had just put them together when she heard her teacher call her, "Come here."
She hopped over and saw him holding a copy of "Yingzao Fashi" (Building Standards). He asked, "Do you like reading these books about repairing dikes and houses?"
Qingchen's feelings weren't just fondness, but a long-standing habit. Her father was an engineer, and the family had many books on engineering. She would sit beside him reading them from a young age, though she couldn't understand them then. When she grew up, she originally wanted to study the same major as him, but after her father's sudden death, her mother refused to let her touch any engineering-related books anymore.
She could only read them secretly, but every time she did, she couldn't help but think of her father and would shed tears. Over the years, although her mother wouldn't let her apply for that major, she still persisted in reading these books and also learned a lot on Zhihu (a Chinese Q&A website).
All because of her father's words: to change the world and protect her family through her own efforts.
Unable to answer the teacher's question directly, she could only say, "When I get tired of studying, I read all sorts of things."
He nodded, then picked up her unfinished comic strip. "And this one?" How could she have so many strange hobbies?
“These were drawn for my cousin. When I was teaching him, he didn’t like listening, so I thought maybe it was because the characters were difficult to understand, so I drew these pictures.”
Song Yue put down his painting and looked at the refined and elegant students under the lamplight. "You have students now."
Qingchen lowered her head. "I didn't teach well."
"Qingchen, do you know that I also have a teacher? Today is the anniversary of his death." He looked at her with his dark eyes, and his thin lips parted slightly. "His name was Wang Yangming."
She naturally knew the founder of the School of Mind, the one who said, "This mind is bright, what more is there to say?", the one who "extended innate knowledge."
"Would you like to learn more?" he asked.
Qingchen looked up at him and nodded firmly.
"Kneel down."
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