The Zhu family’s young lady, Zhu Cici, had left Yuetan Pavilion, leaving behind Nan Wenmo, who was already considered an “old woman,” standing alone by the waterside pavilion.
Zhu Cici had invited her elder sister Nan to visit the peach blossom grove, saying the flowers were in bloom. But Nan Wenmo declined with a dismissive, “What’s so special about a few peach blossoms?”
Watching the younger woman’s departing figure fade into the distance, Nan Wenmo sighed, a hint of worry flickering across her face.
Arranging a marriage proposal on behalf of the Xu family was rely to repay her father’s favor. Whether it succeeded or not didn’t matter to Nan Wenmo—in fact, she would much prefer if Cici refused.
The Xu family’s eldest son from Minghai County, while seemingly a good match in terms of status, was too calculating for her taste. He gave her the impression of soone similarly insincere.
Cici, with her carefree and leisurely personality, likely wouldn’t be well-suited for such a marriage.
But more than anything, Nan Wenmo didn’t want this promising younger woman to be weighed down by sothing as burdenso as “love.”
“A few ounces of longing, a few ounces of sorrow; flowers fall as old acquaintances part ways,” she muttered, shaking her head as she watched the girl disappear into the distance.
“What’s the point?”
Retracting her gaze, Nan Wenmo looked down at the moonlit pavilion and, unbidden, a mory surfaced in her mind: a scruffy scholar, nose buried in a book as he walked, falling clumsily into the water.
Her lips curved into a smile, and her long lashes cast shadows over her eyes, which shimred with an unreadable emotion—part nostalgia, part self-mockery.
“Indeed… what’s the point?”
With another sigh, she pushed the mory aside, banishing that man from her thoughts. Folding her hands behind her back, she strode purposefully down the mountain.
Ti to report back: she’d done her best as a matchmaker.
As she descended, however, her steps faltered, and she stopped abruptly.
Not far ahead, a man was crouched over, vigorously digging for bamboo shoots. His posture and effort were almost comical.
Nan Wenmo glanced left, then right, then broke into a grin—though she didn’t dare laugh out loud.
Quietly, she approached the man, positioned herself just right, and delivered a swift kick to his backside.
“Ahh!”
The man yelped as he toppled forward onto the grass, getting a mouthful of dirt.
“Who was that? Who’s so heartless as to kick out of nowhere? Confucius says—”
The man’s grumbling trailed off abruptly as he turned to see his assailant.
“Confucius says what?” Nan Wenmo asked, smiling as she looked at him.
“Oh, Sister-in-law! Long ti no see! What brings you back to the academy?” the scholar exclaid with a sheepish grin.
“I ca to find a younger relative,” Nan Wenmo replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, Xiao Liu, you were about to tell what Confucius says, weren’t you?”
“Confucius says: The best plan for spring is to enjoy bamboo shoots—they’re the most delicious!” the man, whose full na was Lu Xiaoliu, joked with a wide grin. He wiped the dirt off a tender shoot with his scholarly robe. “Sister-in-law, how about taking a few back? These academy bamboo shoots are superb—perfect for stir-frying with so at!”
Nan Wenmo ignored the term “sister-in-law,” which the man used so casually.
“Xiao Liu, you’re supposed to be a ‘gentleman of the academy.’ But look at you—mud all over, squatting to dig for bamboo shoots. Does this look like the behavior of a gentleman?”
“Co on now, Sister-in-law, don’t say that.” Lu Xiaoliu wiped the mud from his face sheepishly. “Your husband, Brother Xiao, was considered a paragon of virtue here at the academy—almost beca the youngest dean, too. But even he once stole a chicken from the headmaster!”
“How dare you bring that up!” Nan Wenmo, enraged, picked up a stone and hurled it at him (Lu Xiaoliu nimbly dodged). “That idiot got punished, copying the Book of Rites a hundred tis!”
Lu Xiaoliu looked aggrieved and muttered under his breath, “But wasn’t it you who said you wanted to eat the headmaster’s chicken? Brother Xiao only did it for you, and you ate both drumsticks! I only got the tail end…”
“What did you say?” Nan Wenmo narrowed her eyes, her voice sharp.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” Lu Xiaoliu quickly shook his head.
Nan Wenmo let out a couple of cold chuckles. “Xiao Mochi left the mountain nearly ten years ago. Why are you still here? Why not return to Yue Kingdom?”
“Why go back to Yue Kingdom?”
Lu Xiaoliu spread his hands, a touch of grievance in his tone.
“My mother redeed herself from servitude and is living well now. She flat-out refuses to let return. She says if I step foot in Yue Kingdom, she’ll beat out of the house with a cane. Where am I supposed to go then?
I thought about going to Wu Kingdom, but your Brother Xiao said I’d just cause him trouble and told to stay far away from him.”
As he spoke, Lu Xiaoliu tilted his head back and let out a heavy sigh. “The world is vast, yet there’s nowhere for to go!”
Nan Wenmo shot him a glance. “I heard the First Dynasty of the human race—Qin Kingdom—extended an invitation to you. Why didn’t you accept it?”
“Qin Kingdom is too big,” Lu Xiaoliu replied, shrugging. “As an outsider working as an official there, wouldn’t the local bureaucrats crush like a bug?”
He weighed the bamboo shoot in his hand. “Besides, White Deer Academy is much more comfortable. Joining the bureaucracy in a dynasty would an getting entangled with the nation’s Qi of Rivers and Mountains, which drains one’s vital essence.
Once you step into the bureaucracy, it’s like falling into a deep abyss. If my vital essence gets depleted before I can escape or advance my cultivation to recover, wouldn’t I just drop dead?
Look at now: digging bamboo shoots, fishing, occasionally pretending to read a book—I’ve already been labeled a ‘gentleman.’ If I just keep muddling through and outlive all those old codgers, won’t I eventually beco a revered scholar?”
“…” Nan Wenmo opened her mouth as if to argue, but after thinking it over, she realized Lu Xiaoliu wasn’t entirely wrong. She shook her head. “Your Brother Xiao once said your aspirations lay in the court.”
Lu Xiaoliu wiped the bamboo shoot clean. “Maybe that was true in the past, but now… who knows?”
“Indecisive, just like a woman,” Nan Wenmo snorted, resuming her descent down the mountain. “Fine, keep digging your bamboo shoots.”
“Sister-in-law,” Lu Xiaoliu called after her as she walked further away.
“What?” Nan Wenmo turned around.
Lu Xiaoliu smiled faintly. “Sister-in-law, don’t judge Brother Xiao by his stubbornness or apparent indifference. I heard that when he learned of your engagent, he drank himself unconscious that very night.
You know better than anyone how difficult the path Brother Xiao has chosen is. One wrong step, and he’ll plunge into the abyss. To accomplish what he’s pursuing requires imnse resolve. He just didn’t want to drag you down with him.
Everything Brother Xiao has done—it’s all for the sake of his ideals.”
“Hah.”
Nan Wenmo let out a cold laugh and turned to leave, her voice trailing back over her shoulder.
“For the sake of his ideals? He didn’t even have the courage to marry . How could he ever achieve those lofty dreams? Xiao Mochi—just a coward!”
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