Chapter 878: Chapter 520: Wine, the Old Confucian, the Mo Xia Sword, and Yourong’s Calligraphy (Part 2)
Yun Niang smiled and also extended an invitation.
Zhao Qian’er turned her head to look at Zhao Rong, and the latter nodded to her.
However, the little girl shook her head, declined, and didn’t offer an explanation before continuing to roam the kitchen.
She stayed close to Brother Rong, not allowing him out of her sight.
Zhao Rong looked helplessly and shrugged at Zhang Huizhi.
The latter wasn’t upset and instructed the simple woman, “Then retrieve all the dishes.”
Yun Niang nodded and went out.
Zhang Huizhi turned back, set down the wine pot, and no longer looked toward the back kitchen.
Zhao Rong glanced at the sky; it was already the Hour of Shen.
He shifted his somewhat stiff seat, changing his sitting posture.
Zhang Huizhi seemed to notice Zhao Rong’s intention to find an opportunity to take his leave and said softly:
“Ziyu, if you’re not in a hurry, there are a few more dishes. Perhaps try them before departing. Moreover, today, I have one last question and a story to tell.”
Zhao Rong coughed a little embarrassedly and earnestly said, “What question? Hmm, no rush. I would love to hear Brother Huizhi’s story in detail.”
Zhang Huizhi turned to look at the horizon, his eyes filled with a bit of longing:
“Ziyu, with your extraordinary insight, could you tell me what you think the grand virtue of us Confucian scholars is?”
Zhao Rong raised an eyebrow.
Oh, just asking about our Confucian ultimate wish?
If that’s how you ask, then I’ll not hold back, ahem.
This is a bonus question.
He nodded subtly.
The next second, in the courtyard where autumn wind swept through bamboo leaves, on the seating mat,
A young Confucian scholar straightened his sleeves, sat dignifiedly, and raised his hand solemnly:
“To establish the heart for Heaven and Earth, establish life for the people, continue the lost teachings of past sages, and open peace for all ages!”
These deafening words echoed around the courtyard, causing everyone in the back kitchen to glance curiously.
Even the already high-expectation-holding Zhang Huizhi was stunned at this moment upon hearing these “Four Sentences of Hengqu”.
Stunned and shocked.
He stared straight at Zhao Rong, involuntarily repeating softly.
“To establish the heart for Heaven and Earth, to establish life for the people, to continue the lost teachings of past sages, and to open peace for all ages? What a grand virtue of a Confucian scholar, the wanderer Zhang Huizhi… is willing to follow!”
Zhang Huizhi slapped the table and laughed heartily three times.
He then turned his head and said toward the north room:
“Fu’er, copy Mr. Zhao’s enlightening words three thousand times.”
“Yes, Father.”
In the north room, the dull boy who was practicing calligraphy without paying attention to the outside world put down his pen and responded.
The boy stood up, bowed deeply toward Zhao Rong, and then continued leaning over his desk to start copying the “Mr. Zhao’s sayings”.
Three thousand times.
Zhao Rong put down the wine pot and scratched his head.
“Ahem, Brother Huizhi, it’s actually not necessary to go this far. It’s enough for the child to remember; writing that much isn’t really necessary.”
Zhao Rong felt a bit embarrassed.
Good lord, he just wanted to quietly show off his knowledge, not expecting to add such a burden of study work to the child.
This really troubled his conscience.
Zhao Rong didn’t dare to look toward the north room anymore.
Ah, wasn’t everyone once a child? Suddenly adding homework is deeply hated.
Zhang Huizhi shook his head, “One must learn more from teachers like Ziyu. Hearing Ziyu’s teachings is my son’s lifelong fortune; he will come to understand it when he grows up.”
Upon saying this, he paused and shouted without turning his head:
“Add another three thousand times.”
“Yes, Father.”
The dull boy in the north room nodded seriously, his eyes not straying.
Zhao Rong: “……”
Zhang Huizhi picked up the wine pot, took a hearty drink, “Ziyu’s golden words should command a great toast.”
The two drank joyfully.
Zhang Huizhi wiped his mouth and then waved his sleeve, sweeping the dry bamboo leaves off the table.
Thud~
The young Confucian scholar gently placed the wine pot on the table.
“Ziyu, do you still remember when I told you about not being admitted to Linlu Academy back then?”
Zhao Rong smiled and nodded, casually saying, “I remember, later Brother Huizhi headed south, gained experience and growth, and eventually smoothly entered Siqi Academy, which was a blessing in disguise.”
Zhang Huizhi nodded and then shook his head, raised his glass in Zhao Rong’s direction, and said softly,
“Ziyu, you only got half right. Actually, on my way south, many stories happened to that Zhang-named unaccepted scholar who was frustrated.”
“Oh?”
“But with limited time now, I can only briefly talk about the most important one.”
Zhang Huizhi looked at Zhao Rong, “Ziyu, on the road, I was desolate and dispirited until… I met a benefactor. He motivated and supported me… so that I finally realized my dream of entering Siqi Academy.”
Zhao Rong was curious, “Who is this benefactor?”
Zhang Huizhi suddenly stopped talking, just looking at him…
As the atmosphere in the courtyard quieted down.
In the back kitchen, a dish to go with wine was the first to be ready and out of the pot.
It was a dish made by the disfigured old servant who smoked a traditional pipe.
The old man expertly placed this noodle-like dish into a plate. In the middle, a fit of coughing seized him, and he covered his mouth and coughed a few times, his lips trembling as he held the copper smoking pipe with his mouth, taking several deep drags.
A flush of pathological ruddiness emerged on his fire-ravaged face.
The disfigured old servant picked up a plate of hometown cuisine and walked toward the courtyard, only to be halfway there.
“Wait, let me do it, let me do it.”
The bored little Qian’er, wandering in the back kitchen, sprinted over.
The atmosphere that had cooled down between Zhao Rong and Zhang Huizhi attracted their attention, and both turned their heads to watch.
Zhao Qian’er stopped in front of the old servant, taking the dish plate from his hands without a word.
“I’ll carry it; you go back and get the other dishes… By the way, what’s the name of this hometown dish of yours… Spicy strips, right? Hmm, what a strange name.”
Zhao Qian’er tossed her head, muttering as she carried the plate toward Zhao Rong, who was beginning to gather his smile.
Behind her, the disfigured old servant stood on the spot, nodding and smiling in the direction of the handsome girl and young Confucian scholar.
He turned around and headed back in the opposite direction toward the kitchen, but just a few steps forward, with a natural motion, the smiling disfigured old servant took out that copper pipe.
This time, there was no coughing.
The old scholar lowered his head and calmly untied the bulging pouch hanging on the old pipe.
He spread his withered palm open.
The pipe’s pouch tilted, and a blood-red bead with four carved sky marks rolled out.
This death-defying yet fire-scarred old man tilted his head back and swallowed a fourth-grade Golden Core.
The air suddenly became deathly still.
The old man, with his back to everyone in the courtyard, in the gaze of those behind him, resembled a greedy old man secretly eating a candy bean.
Except, the moment this “candy bean” rolled out of the pouch, it rapidly emanated an extremely terrifying threat, enveloping this small courtyard.
And it was at this very moment that Zhao Qian’er, carrying the plate and walking halfway, suddenly turned to try to stop him…
However.
The old scholar had already quietly swallowed the Golden Core.
Zhao Qian’er’s head was only half-turned, and her entire body became paralyzed on the spot.
Motionless.
Just like her, a crystal-clear small sword was suspended one foot from the back of the old scholar’s swallowed Golden Core.
Only a foot short.
The immobile woman and the sword, in the courtyard where the autumn wind swept leaves, formed a strange scene.
The old scholar slightly looked up, closed his eyes, and the sword tip vibrating nearly touched his thinly haired scalp.
But ultimately couldn’t advance even the tiniest bit more!
Zhao Qian’er, fixed in place unable to turn her head back, her slender delicate figure trembled in sync with the sword of Swing.
Unable to break free.
The old scholar, back into the Golden Core realm, closed his eyes and deeply inhaled the fresh air, his ugly, twisted face carrying a touch of pathological flush.
As if savoring a delicacy most delicious in this world… no, the second most delicious.
The most delicious, of course, was the imminent despair from that silent scholar not far away.
…