13: Chapter 10: The Ancient Inkstone Erges 13: Chapter 10: The Ancient Inkstone Erges Wu Xiuhe, although not particularly concerned about the eight taels of silver, definitely valued the Ran household.
He was fairly satisfied with Ran Yan’s recent behavior, and besides, his skills in Face Reading had never failed him…
His thoughts shifted suddenly, and Wu Xiuhe, stroking his long beard, adopted a benevolent expression, feeling the proud satisfaction of watching a daughter mature.
Wu Xiuhe reached out to help Ran Yan up, “Get up quickly.
Earlier, seeing how well you were growing the herbs, I knew you had a talent for dicine, let’s go inside and talk.”
Ran Yan followed Wu Xiuhe inside the house while Wan Lu looked at the silver in her hand, knowing it would soon belong to soone else, which made her feel increasingly distressed.
“I am a disciple of Gui Guzi, and I am the ninety-third generation…” Wu Xiuhe said solemnly as he sat down in the seat of honor, continuing, “I believe fate has brought us together, so today I will accept you as the ninety-fourth generation disciple.”
Wan Lu opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by a faint glance from Ran Yan; she pursed her lips tightly, though her phoenix eyes were full of doubt.
After Wu Xiuhe rambled on, he had Ran Yan perform the ceremony to beco a disciple, thus establishing their master-disciple relationship.
“I was fortunate enough today to collect a twenty-year-old Purple Ganoderma on West Mountain.
I thought to myself, ‘It must be the heavens worrying that I had no gift to offer.'” Wu Xiuhe said as he stood, went behind the curtain, and picked up a large stemless Purple Ganoderma from his dicine basket.
After a thought, he put it back and picked the smaller one instead, returning with a joyful smile.
“This Purple Ganoderma will be my gift to you!” Wu Xiuhe placed the Purple Ganoderma in Ran Yan’s hands, saying affectionately, “Tomorrow, have Wan Lu stew it for you to strengthen your body.”
Ran Yan pulled up a smile and hurriedly knelt to bow, “Thank you, Master, for your loving care!”
“Up you get, up you get, we in the Ghost Valley Sect are always informal,” Wu Xiuhe said with a smile.
Ran Yan had Wan Lu lay down the eight taels of silver, then said, “It’s getting late, Master should rest early.
I won’t disturb you any longer.”
They had not reached a hundred steps from the house when Wan Lu hurriedly said, “Wife, the Divine Doctor Wu initially said he was a descendant of Bian Que, then he claid to be a disciple of Hua Tuo, and now he says he is from the Ghost Valley Sect.
Is he…
is he deceiving us?”
Wan Lu, although not well-educated, knew that Bian Que and Hua Tuo were not the sa person.
“Do you know why I accepted him as my master?” Ran Yan asked, while handing the Purple Ganoderma she was holding to Wan Lu.
Wan Lu shook her head, carefully wrapping the Purple Ganoderma in a handkerchief.
Ran Yan said lightly, “Just like this Purple Ganoderma is not twenty years old, no matter what background Divine Doctor Wu actually has, I don’t care; all I wanted was his reputation in the countryside.”
“Not twenty years old!” Wan Lu completely missed the main point in Ran Yan’s words, and with eyes ablaze, was ready to confront Wu Xiuhe about his deception imdiately.
Ran Yan grabbed her, explaining, “To put it scientifically, Lingzhi mushrooms don’t age, as long as they mature, they have dicinal value.
Moreover, very old Lingzhi, because their spores have long dispersed, lack reproductive capacity and thus have a lower dicinal value.
The so-called thousand-year Lingzhi is just a scam.”
“Science…
spores…
reproduction?” Wan Lu listened blankly to the unfamiliar terms coming from Ran Yan’s mouth, trying to digest them.
Although still confused, she vaguely understood Ran Yan’s point: mature Lingzhi has dicinal effects.
Ran Yan, realizing she had misspoken, casually glossed over it, “Lingzhi can be judged by size and spore…
and by color and shape; all things considered, this Lingzhi, though a bit small, is quite good.”
Wan Lu stared at Ran Yan for a long while before murmuring, “Wife, I suddenly feel like I’ve beco dumber.”
Ran Yan knew she shouldn’t have presented herself so differently in front of Wan Lu all at once, but she needed soone by her side to adapt quickly for the next steps she had planned.
Xing Nian was ticulous and thought deeply, while Wan Lu, although clever, tended not to think too deeply about things, which suited Ran Yan’s needs perfectly.
“They say a long illness makes a good physician, and having been ill for a long ti, I naturally know a bit more,” Ran Yan offered an explanation that hardly explained anything, then continued, “Regardless of what kind of person the master is, he has helped us a lot over the years.
Without him, I might have died from my illness long ago.
So, Wan Lu, you must continue to respect him in the future.”
“Hmm, Wife speaks truth,” Wan Lu nodded, acknowledging the reality that a bell doctor who had never t them before was treating his wife not for money but out of sheer kindness.
It was indeed a trendous act of benevolence—how could one then nitpick over the fact that the gift given was not the best!
Speaking of gifts, that paynt of eight liang for his apprenticeship again made Wan Lu wince, “And to think I was planning to go to town tomorrow to have clothes made for Wife.
Now, all that’s left is half a guan; not even enough to buy a kezi.”
A kezi was a term unique to the Tang Dynasty, much like a belly-cover, a type of intimate garnt.
The principal difference between it and a belly-cover was that it lacked the strap that hung around the neck, making it suitable for wearing with dresses that partially exposed the chest.
Five hundred copper coins would suffice for a kezi, but to make a full set of clothing, it was far from enough.
“I primarily want to go to town tomorrow just to look around, and not solely for making clothes,” Ran Yan thought it best to find ways to earn money, as living off dwindling resources was no solution.
Besides, their provisions would last only a month.
After tending to Ran Yan for the night and stowing away the Lingzhi, Wan Lu quietly exited the room.
Having paid respects to her ntor, Ran Yan was relieved of one worry and thus had a good night’s sleep, waking refreshed and clear-headed the following day.
After her night duties, Wan Lu hadn’t been asleep long before she was roused to assist Ran Yan with her morning washing and dressing, only approaching after everything was in order.
Xing Niang insisted not to go with them but continued to give Ran Yan and Wan Lu an earful of instructions.
After a quick breakfast, they barely escaped Xing Niang’s “torture” and just managed to put on their shoes when a Servant called from outside the courtyard, “Is Lady Seventeen present?”
Wan Lu paused briefly before hurriedly going to open the door, “Yes, what is it?”
The Servant handed over a parcel he was carrying, “This is from Mr.
Sang, the new Tutor in the village, ant for Lady Seventeen.”
Though the Servant’s deanor was without fault, the strong scent of gossip in his eyes was almost impossible to ignore; Wan Lu glared fiercely at him.
Considering holding her tongue to avoid making life difficult in the village, she begrudgingly restrained herself and awkwardly bowed, “Thank you.
Did Mr.
Sang have any other ssage?”
“No,” the Servant replied.
“Mr.
Sang is also learned in poetry and books, how could he be unaware of propriety!” Wan Lu muttered.
In the North, such matters were of no consequence; won in Chang’an often went out without even wearing a veil, commonly sitting with n was usual.
But in the southern regions, it was different—private exchanges between n and won, even if not criminal, were generally frowned upon.
“Please wait a mont; I must first consult Wife about this.”
“What is it?” Ran Yan, now veiled, erged from the courtyard.
“It’s from Mr.
Sang,” Wan Lu presented the parcel to Ran Yan.
Ran Yan paused, puzzled.
She had t Sang Chen only once; why would he send her a gift?
Reaching into the bundle, she exposed an inkstone and two liang of silver, with a letter placed beneath the inkstone.
Ran Yan stared intently at the inkstone, her pupils dilating sharply.
It was a rose-purple Chengni inkstone, with realistically carved orchids on one side.
Aside from being new, it was identical to one she had on her desk in her previous life.
The appearance of this inkstone shook Ran Yan’s resolve to continue living in the Tang Dynasty.
Who exactly was Sang Chen, and what did he have to do with her ti travel?
Many questions suddenly surged forward, causing the always cool and collected Ran Yan to experience a mont of disarray.
Fortunately, her veil concealed her turmoil; neither the Servant nor Wan Lu noticed anything amiss.
Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, Ran Yan reached for the letter below the inkstone and slowly unfolded it.
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