Chapter 69: Eternal Peace
In the past, Zhao Ling had also tried to teach A Sen to read characters, but it was more a matter of pointing out whatever characters they happened to come across. If A Sen remembered them, good; if not, it was no big deal. Now, however, Fu Tingyun was starting with the Thousand Family Poems , not only having him memorize them but also setting up a sand tray for him to practice writing.
A Sen was quite proud of himself. "I've learned seven poems and am working on the eighth," he declared.
In just two months, using only his spare time, he had managed to recognize and write seven poems. No wonder he was so pleased with himself.
Zhao Ling smiled at him and nodded approvingly. "Recite one for me!"
A Sen happily agreed, straightening his posture and reciting loudly:
*"The clouds are pale, the breeze is light, nearing noon,
By flowers and willows, past the stream I go.
Others may not grasp the joy I find,
Thinking I idle like a youth, they’ll never know..."*
Meanwhile, Fu Tingyun, sitting nearby, was in a rather gloomy mood.
Ever since they had left Xi'an Prefecture, Zhao Ling had seemed different.
Yet if asked to pinpoint exactly how, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Take just now, for instance—he had entered without knocking. Before leaving Xi'an, he would never have done such a thing. But now, when she reminded him, he simply brushed it off and casually took a seat beside her.
She preferred how things were before.
Back then, though he always wore a stern expression, he had been respectful and proper toward her, never once neglecting courtesy...
The thought flashed through her mind, and suddenly, it all made sense.
Yes, that was it!
Before, he had treated her with solemn respect, but now, there was a hint of casual disregard.
Fearing attacks from the Migrant Bandits, they had traveled day and night, the jolting of the carriage leaving her utterly exhausted. Zheng Sanniang, holding Linchun, wasn’t faring much better. The child cried the entire way, and Zheng Sanniang did her best to soothe him. Fu Tingyun’s heart ached with worry, terrified that something might happen to the child. She even regretted bringing the Zheng couple to Zhangye. Fortunately, A Sen had produced a piece of candy—otherwise, Linchun’s voice would have been hoarse from crying.
After passing Meixian, they finally slowed their pace, stopping by the roadside to rest at noon.
Feeling as though her bones had come apart, Fu Tingyun lay in the carriage, too sore to lift a finger. She told Zheng Sanniang not to mind her and to take Linchun outside to play. "Even adults can’t bear this, let alone a child!"
Zheng Sanniang, eyes brimming with tears, complied and carried the child out.
Fu Tingyun closed her eyes, hoping to rest properly, but then Zhao Ling lifted the carriage curtain and entered, handing her a bowl of sweetened water.
At the time, she didn’t think much of it and drank it all in front of him. Then... she needed to relieve herself. Zhao Ling kept asking if she was feeling unwell, and she could only stammer vague replies. Eventually, unable to hold it any longer, she said she wanted to step outside for some air.
Zhao Ling jumped down from the carriage.
She sighed in relief, gritting her teeth against the soreness as she slowly tried to rise.
But Zhao Ling stood by the carriage, reaching out to help her down...
What followed was utter chaos. She couldn’t even recall how she had gotten back into the carriage.
All she remembered was her face burning like fire... and how, when he helped her down, her entire body had stiffened. She stumbled, falling against his shoulder, and caught the scent of him—that warm, pleasant fragrance.
It was soothing, comforting, making her feel languid...
Just thinking about it now made Fu Tingyun’s face flush hot again.
Zhao Ling listened absently to A Sen’s recitation, his gaze flickering repeatedly toward Fu Tingyun from the corner of his eye.At first, she pouted childishly, then leaned lazily against the nearby kang cabinet, lost in thought.
When he glanced over again, her face suddenly flushed crimson. Biting her rosy lips with a coy shyness, she looked like a blooming crabapple flower—utterly enchanting.
Unable to resist, he asked softly, "What's wrong?"
Like spring thunder startling a flower’s slumber, she jolted in surprise. "Nothing! Nothing!" she hurriedly replied, her expression flustered as she stole a quick glance at him before straightening up properly.
Zhao Ling’s heart sank.
He had thought they would grow closer, yet she seemed to drift further away.
Before, she would always chat with him cheerfully, but now, she seemed to avoid him.
Why was this happening?
Zhao Ling grew troubled.
Meanwhile, Fu Tingyun was uneasy.
Had he noticed something?
She had clutched his lapel so tightly—if not for A Sen’s sudden shout of "Miss Fu," she might have leaned right into his arms.
Thankfully, A Sen’s cry had made it clear she was stiff and unable to move. Otherwise, who knew what people would think?
And then he had tossed his fur coat over her... Though it was new and unworn, wrapping herself in its warmth made her feel strange. Sitting in the carriage, she could push the thought aside, but the moment she stepped out and saw Jin Yuanbao and the others in their fur coats, she grew so uncomfortable she wished she could hide inside the carriage forever.
She quickly cleared her throat, composing herself, just as A Sen began reciting, "Gazing at each other without wearying—only Jingting Mountain." For some reason, her face burned, her heart fluttered, and she blurted out, "Did Ninth Master also study The Thousand Poets as a child?"
The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to bite her tongue.
Every child started their education with The Thousand Poets .
Sure enough, Zhao Ling nodded slightly with a smile. "Yes," he said, adding, "My father passed away when I was six, but ever since I can remember, he loved holding me on his knee while teaching me to read. He used to say that people dismiss poetry in favor of the eight-legged essay, not realizing that the quality of one’s exam writing depends entirely on how well one interprets the topic—and that, in turn, depends on the brilliance of one’s parallel prose and couplets." His expression grew nostalgic. "I still remember—he had a jade pixiu paperweight on his desk, smooth and lustrous. Whenever I grew restless, he’d let me play with it. Once, I broke it, so he replaced it with a jade deer and still let me hold it. Back then, I thought all paperweights were made of jade..."
Fu Tingyun was deeply moved.
This was the first time he had spoken so openly about his parents in front of her.
From the way he spoke, his father must have been a scholar.
Why had he passed away so young?
And how had Zhao Ling ended up in such circumstances?
She wanted to ask what had happened but held back.
Losing both parents and wandering alone—bringing it up would only stir sorrow. Why make him relive the pain?
Besides, these days, no matter what she asked, he always answered her patiently...
The thought made her drift into a daze.
He truly treated her differently now.In the past, whenever such topics came up, he would either remain silent or change the subject. Never had he been like this—like the closest of friends, willing to bare his heart and let her see the memories hidden deep within.
Fu Tingyun felt rather uneasy.
She felt that if things continued this way, something significant might happen... Yet if she were to stop now and never inquire about Zhao Ling's affairs again, she couldn't help but still want to know...
She was conflicted.
The room suddenly fell silent.
She looked up in surprise and saw Zhao Ling sitting there quietly, his expression somewhat dazed.
Was he reminiscing about happier times or recalling past sorrows?
Fu Tingyun's heart ached with a bittersweet pang.
As she pondered how to comfort him subtly, A Sen abruptly announced, "I—I've finished reciting!"
How could they have forgotten about him!
Fu Tingyun flushed with embarrassment and quickly turned her gaze to A Sen.
A Sen hung his head low and muttered softly, "You were all so busy talking, no one paid any attention to me!"
He looked utterly aggrieved.
Fu Tingyun felt both ashamed and remorseful.
Zhao Ling, who had been silent moments ago, suddenly laughed heartily and said, "When adults are talking, children should just listen quietly." Then he stood up. "Come, let's go have supper—it's getting late, aren't you all hungry?" His brows were clear and bright, with no trace of the earlier confusion.
Youth knows not the taste of sorrow, forcing melancholy into verse. Now, having tasted sorrow's depths, one merely remarks, "What a cool autumn day."
This side of Zhao Ling made Fu Tingyun's heart ache even more.
A Sen, however, immediately perked up. "Ninth Master, should I go call Brother Yucheng and Brother Yuanbao?"
Zhao Ling nodded, and the boy scampered off excitedly.
Zhao Ling stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at A Sen's retreating figure for a long time without moving.
Not wanting him to feel alone, Fu Tingyun stood quietly by his side.
After a long while, he finally spoke softly, "When I was little, I was just like A Sen—happy at the mere mention of food."
From a child who "thought paperweights were all made of jade" to one who rejoiced at the prospect of food...
Her urge to comfort him became irresistible.
Fu Tingyun reached out, wanting to pat his head as she often did with A Sen, but as she stretched her hand, she realized he was a full head taller than her... She quickly withdrew it, embarrassed.
Zhao Ling, noticing her gesture, brightened like a ship catching the wind.
She had already chosen to go to Zhangye with him—why overthink things? All he needed to do was treat her well!
"Let's go have supper!" he said, turning to look at her, warmth slowly spreading across his features.
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Upon hearing they would stay in Yongjing for two days, Fu Tingyun's spirits lifted.
She called Zheng San over. "Tomorrow, accompany me to the market. I want to buy a fur coat." Then she paused before adding, "Or perhaps we could buy one for Ninth Master!"
Zheng San hesitated as he took in Fu Tingyun's delicate features. "This place is a mixed bag, and we're just passing through..."
As an escort guard, he was accustomed to prioritizing a safe journey, and beauty and wealth were often the two things that invited trouble... He feared complications might arise.
Fu Tingyun couldn't help but feel disheartened. "Then go out tomorrow and buy a fur coat for Ninth Master."
Zheng San was confident in his own abilities and respectfully agreed.
Fu Tingyun opened her trunk and gave him two hundred taels of silver. The next day, she sat unhappily in her room, doing needlework.A Sen came to her excitedly with a sand tray to learn how to read, and only then did she perk up. But A Sen still sensed her unhappiness and quietly told Zhao Ling, "Miss Fu is upset!"
"Oh!" Zhao Ling paused the hand that was about to write. "Why is Miss Fu upset?"
A Sen chuckled secretly in his heart.
He knew that as long as he mentioned Miss Fu, Ninth Master would ask about it.
"I don't know!" A Sen said. "But she's definitely upset."
Zhao Ling gave a noncommittal "Hmm" and continued writing with his head lowered.
Finding it boring, A Sen squatted in the room practicing characters on the sand tray.
Before long, he saw Zhao Ling put down his brush and walk out.
A Sen stood on tiptoe to peek.
He saw Zhao Ling knocking on Fu Tingyun's door.
A Sen felt a twinge of emotion.
Ninth Master really listens to Miss Fu. She had merely mentioned something yesterday, and he had already taken it to heart.
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Finally fixed the typos... O(∩_∩)O~
(End of Chapter)
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