Chapter 117: No Classes Today

When Su Lu left Daonan Hall, the sky was already dim. After the Mid-Autumn Festival, the nights were visibly drawing in earlier each day.

"Qiu-ge'er!" his uncle’s voice rang out from outside the Qingsin Gate.

"Uncle Zongqi." Su Lu, in high spirits, walked over with a grin and bowed.

"You are the pride of the academy now; don't act so sloppy." His uncle straightened his collar, then waved him off, urging him to hurry away. "You have to mind your image now. Don't let your fellow students see us together."

"What do you mean?" Su Lu asked, puzzled. "I’ve always been proud of you, Uncle."

"It's fine usually, but look at me—I'm here taking orders from others," his uncle whispered. "It’s not very becoming."

"So what? If you weren't here carrying the burden, how could I enjoy these peaceful days?" Su Lu replied with a dismissive smile. "Besides, am I any more 'becoming' for eating cornmeal buns every day? I’ve only just started living a comfortable life, why put on airs?"

"Haha, good lad." His uncle squeezed his shoulder firmly and tucked two pieces of silver into his robes as a reward. "Go buy yourself something good to eat!"

"Many thanks, Uncle Zongqi." Su Lu bowed with a smile. Today was truly a wonderful day.

First, everyone was giving him money; second, he hadn't expected to successfully build a connection with Magistrate Lu!

Although the teachers seemed to look down on Magistrate Lu, Su Lu found them ridiculous. It would be one thing if successful scholars or jinshi looked down on him, but what right did these impoverished scholars have to look down on a county magistrate, a man who held the power of life and death over the district?

If they all looked down on him, that was even better—Su Lu would be the one to give him the respect he craved, warming the Magistrate's wounded little heart at no cost to himself.

That was the magistrate who held his fate in his hands! The man didn't want anything in return, just for him to study hard, and in exchange, he gave him money and offered him protection. Was there any better bargain in the world?

Su Lu respected him from the bottom of his heart, truly!

~~

It was the day for the Phonology and Rhythm class, so Su Lu didn't eat at the academy canteen; he left the grounds and headed to Sweet Water Inn.

By now, the sky was pitch black. The shop had shuttered its front, and the shop hands had finished cleaning and gone home. Only Su Youcai and his foster mother were waiting for him to eat.

They sat at one of the tables meant for customers, and the food was mostly bought from street vendors. Yet, the orange glow of the lamps and the familiar smiling faces still gave Su Lu a sense of home.

"My son, you've worked hard. Go wash your hands and let's eat," his foster mother greeted him warmly.

"It's no trouble at all. It is you and Father who have it hard," Su Lu said with a grin.

Tian Tian obediently brought him a basin of water. Su Lu thanked her, washed his hands, and hurried to start the meal.

While eating, Su Youcai asked with concern, "Son, that old dog Lu Zhaoye didn't give you any trouble, did he?"

Su Lu shook his head. While shoveling rice into his mouth, he pulled out the silver and slapped it onto the table. Naturally, he kept the two pieces of silver his uncle had given him for himself.

After all, that was his uncle’s private savings—how could he turn that over to the household?

"Oh my, where did all this money come from?" Su Youcai was startled, weighing it in his hand. "Ten taels of silver!"

"Has my son found another way to make a fortune?" his foster mother asked with keen interest.

"Magistrate Lu gave it to me," Su Lu swallowed his mouthful of food and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his mouth. "He said that everything in the past is wiped clean and that none of us should ever mention it again. He also said that Father could try for the county exams again and that this time it would definitely be different."

"What? Can a dog really spit out ivory?" Su Youcai’s mouth hung open, feeling as if his son were talking nonsense. Yet, the ten taels of silver were sitting right there, undeniably real.

"He... why would he say such a thing?"

"He's the County Magistrate; we wouldn't dare ask even if he didn't say," Su Lu chuckled. "Maybe he felt he was too harsh on you in the past and his conscience finally kicked in."

"He was indeed too harsh!" Su Youcai acted as if he had just taken a soothing tonic, exhaling a long breath of stagnant air. "But it is better to resolve a grudge than to keep it. For the sake of my son’s future, I have chosen to forgive him!"

"Second Brother, you truly have a magnanimous heart." As an outsider, the foster mother saw the situation clearly. She had only ever heard of the people bribing officials—when had one ever heard of an official bribing the people?

Why would the Magistrate, out of the blue, reward Su Youcai with money and take the initiative to reconcile? Thinking back to the Magistrate’s purpose in visiting the academy, she guessed that nine times out of ten, this money was meant for Su Lu.

Su Lu saying it this way was mostly to save his father’s face. The proprietress decided she should give Su Youcai more confidence, so she lifted her wine cup, beaming. "Congratulations, Second Brother, on the turn of your fortunes! I’ll bet anything you’ll get your wish the year after next! If not, I’ll do whatever you ask!"

"Hahaha, I accept your auspicious words, sister!" Su Youcai was instantly overjoyed and lightly tapped his cup against the proprietress’.

Under the moonlight and the lamp, with a beautiful woman offering a toast and understanding his heart, his long-dormant poetic inspiration burst forth. He raised his cup, stood up, pondered for a moment, and recited aloud:

"Moonlight dances on the wine, the cup is filled to the brim,
Warm words, like the spring breeze, steep deep within.
Do not say the scholar’s robe is stained with dust,
Next year, the crimson flowers will pave the road to glory!"

"What a wonderful line, 'Do not say the scholar’s robe is stained with dust, next year, the crimson flowers will pave the road to glory!' Such a poem, such a poem..." The proprietress was enchanted, her chin resting on her delicate hand, her eyes shimmering with affection. "Second Brother, you are truly overflowing with talent! It is so admirable!"

"Hahaha!" Su Youcai felt as if his very bones had become light, and he laughed heartily. "Great literature comes from heaven; one just happens to capture it at the right moment. It was only because the atmosphere was right, and a lot of the credit goes to you, sister."

"What makes me happiest is that you have started writing poetry again, Second Brother," the proprietress said with a look of relief. "You hadn't written a single line since you came to the shop. It seems poetry and study go hand in hand after all."

"Oh, is that so?" Su Youcai smiled. "Since you say so, I shall pick up my books again!"

"That’s wonderful! This cup is to congratulate you on returning to your studies." The proprietress poured another cup and drank with him, her cheeks flushing a faint peach-blossom pink without her noticing...

"Tian Tian, are you full?" Su Lu really couldn't watch any longer.

"Yes." Tian Tian, also feeling awkward, nodded quickly.

"Come on, I'll take you for a walk." Su Lu led Tian Tian outside.

"Son, aren't you going to have your phonology lesson?" Su Youcai hadn't forgotten the excuse he used for staying the night.

"I'm not doing it tonight; I'll study something else," Su Lu's voice faded into the darkness.

~~

The night passed without incident.

The next morning, Magistrate Lu woke up to the sound of rhythmic reading.

Having slept with a clear mind and body, he felt much looser in his lower back and legs when he rose, which made him very happy.

His long-term attendant helped him pace a few steps before the bed, and seeing that the Magistrate was no longer walking with a waddling gait, he hurried to offer congratulations: "My lord, you have recovered so quickly this time!"

"Indeed!" Magistrate Lu nodded, his expression relaxed. "First, I must thank the heavens for sending me Su Lu; it has put me in such high spirits!"

"Yes. When a person is happy, their illness naturally heals faster..." the attendant chimed in.

"Secondly, I must thank Thousand-Household Ma for the ointment he sent," Magistrate Lu added with a cough, speaking with uncharacteristic honesty.

Thousand-Household Ma was a veteran who had fought the Duzhang barbarians during the Chenghua era; whether it was a fall or an injury, nothing escaped his discerning eyes.

Yesterday, when Magistrate Lu was carried away with himself at Daonan Hall and waving his arms about, the man had realized that Lu wasn't suffering from a back or waist injury, nor any muscular strain—it was, almost certainly, hemorrhoids...

Ma hadn't made a scene at the time, but upon returning, he had retrieved a secret hemorrhoid ointment from the Ma family and had Su Youjin deliver it quietly.

Su Youjin was a silver-tongued devil who claimed the medicine was unparalleled in heaven or on earth. Since Magistrate Lu had been suffering so much that he couldn't sleep, he had allowed his attendant to apply it.

Unexpectedly, it really worked! It wasn't an instant cure, but the relief was immediate and drastic!

This changed Magistrate Lu’s attitude toward Thousand-Household Ma significantly, and he invited him to breakfast.

When Ma arrived, he was surprised to see the Magistrate standing in the corridor waiting for him.

He was flattered: "Oh, oh, you shouldn't have. You are still unwell, Magistrate."

"My secret ailment caused me to be neglectful yesterday, and I feel quite guilty," Magistrate Lu said, as if he were a completely different person, smiling warmly. "Fortunately, you are magnanimous and did not hold it against me, and even gifted me medicine. I am truly grateful."

"It’s nothing, it’s nothing. As the saying goes, nine out of ten men have this ailment; I have the same problem, I understand completely!" Ma laughed generously and asked in a low voice, "So, how do you feel now?"

"Oh, much better," Magistrate Lu replied with a sense of relief. "Your medicine is truly miraculous!"

"Of course, it’s an ancestral recipe! Worth more than gold!" Ma boasted. "I’ll have Youjin send some more over later for you to take back and use."

"Many thanks, many thanks." Magistrate Lu thanked him repeatedly and invited Ma to take his seat. "The harvest is imminent, and I cannot afford to be delayed, so I must return this morning. I can only invite you to a simple breakfast."

"The meal doesn't matter; being able to sit with you for a while is wonderful enough," Ma said with a smile, his words tinged with a slight hint of resentment.

Magistrate Lu knew this was because he hadn't "settled the score" the day before and felt slighted. He took a sip of millet porridge and smiled. "Weren't you asking for a piece of calligraphy, brother?"

"Yes, yes," Ma said happily. "Don't worry, the fee for the brushwork will certainly match your status as a Magistrate!"

"The fee is unnecessary; consider it an apology for my behavior," Magistrate Lu waved his hand and smiled. "And then, can we consider this matter completely closed?"

Although the civil and military branches were independent, many affairs of the Thousand-Household Office were managed by the county. If there were friction between them, cooperation would become quite troublesome.

"No, no, that’s not an issue at all. I didn't take it to heart," Ma also waved his hand, laughing.

Magistrate Lu naturally knew that this had to be taken with a grain of salt, so he said, "It is settled, then. What would you like me to write?"

~~

After breakfast, the two moved to the study.

The attendant had already spread the rice paper and ground the ink. Ma stood by the desk, admiring the Magistrate as he wielded his brush. He read each character aloud as it was written:

"ER! LANG! JIA! NIANG! (The Second Son's Fine Brew) Such good calligraphy, each character is so thick and sturdy! Just looking at it makes me feel powerful!"

"..." The veins on Magistrate Lu’s hand holding the brush bulged, and a drop of ink nearly fell onto the paper.

He never imagined that his "Boke" large-character calligraphy, which he had practiced for ten years, would be described as "thick and sturdy"...

And what was this "Second Son's Fine Brew"? Couldn't he have asked for something like "Tranquility leads to far-reaching goals"? The man actually made him write a shop sign!

Who asks for calligraphy like this?!

One had to know that the price for a piece of calligraphy and the price for a shop sign were worlds apart—the former was ten times more expensive!

He had been played!

(PS: The rest hasn't been checked yet, don't rush.)