Ji Huai nodded and smiled at A Hua, then turned to see the grimy Lin Heyu. Waving a dismissive hand while covering his eyes in distress, he complained, “Go change out of those dirty clothes. You’re covered in mud do you really plan to become a mud monkey?”

Lin Heyu glanced down at his hemp garments and shook his head indifferently, but obediently headed toward the well.

A Hua reacted swiftly, volunteering, “Then… then I’ll wash Little Bird’s clothes for him.”

After her burst of excitement, A Hua reverted to her usual shy demeanor.

Ji Huai shook his head in disapproval, speaking with earnest gravity, “The first step to becoming a female official is to stop being a servant. Let him wash his own clothes. Grown men are perfectly capable of doing laundry why should women always have to serve men? He has hands and feet; there’s no need for you to bow and scrape.”

Ji Huai’s words carried a rebellious tone that contradicted mainstream beliefs. This was the first time A Hua had heard such ideas. Her mouth hung open as she pondered their meaning, but her peripheral vision accidentally caught Lin Heyu by the well already shirtless, revealing his toned upper body. The maidenly appreciation for a handsome man made her cheeks flush as if she’d drunk counterfeit wine, yet Ji Huai’s words had planted a seed of hope in her heart.

Watching A Hua and Lin Heyu, Ji Huai couldn’t stop beaming with a gratified, almost maternal smile. Only when he belatedly realized he a Teacher was enjoying his student’s antics did he notice Lin Heyu had already changed clothes indoors and returned to sit by the well with an armful of dirty laundry, starting to wash.

“Hey, wait those are my clothes too.” Ji Huai approached somewhat sheepishly to snatch them back. It wasn’t that he minded Lin Heyu washing his clothes, but his undergarments were mixed in far too private.

Lin Heyu dodged his grabbing hand, remarking carelessly, “What’s the big deal? They’re just underpants. I don’t mind might as well wash them all together.”

“…” Ji Huai covered his face and retreated two steps, blush spreading from his cheeks down to his neck.

A Hua observed from the side, marveling, “A Yu truly respects our Teacher so much.”

Lin Heyu nodded emphatically, “Yeah, yeah, I respect Teacher deeply. If he’d exempt me from morning study, I’d respect him even more.”

Ji Huai chuckled dryly without responding.

Reading Ji Huai’s expression, Lin Heyu knew his plea was hopeless. He sighed in resignation and diligently resumed washing.

The heat in Ji Huai’s face refused to fade as he watched the industrious Lin Heyu scrub his underpants with meticulous care inside and out, every corner thoroughly cleaned.

The more Ji Huai watched, the more embarrassed he grew. With A Hua present, he couldn’t intervene without compromising his dignity as a Teacher.

Forcing his attention elsewhere, Ji Huai called to A Hua, “Come to the Schoolhouse for lessons tomorrow.”

A Hua nodded excitedly, unsure how to express her gratitude. She thrust the basket she was carrying into Ji Huai’s hands, then turned and fled with flushed cheeks. The orange-gold sunset painted the sky behind her bouncing figure as her shy voice floated back on the evening breeze: “For Teacher and Little Bird to eat as a midnight snack.”

“I’ve eaten ” Ji Huai finally responded, but when he looked up, all he could see was A Hua’s radiant figure darting into the distance. He raised his voice to call out, only to see the girl run even faster.

Lin Heyu chuckled softly. With deft movements, he had already finished washing all the clothes in that short time. Shirtless, his muscular torso glistened as he stood up and swiftly hung the laundry like a gust of wind.

Finally, Lin Heyu stood by the clothesline, stroking his chin with a smug expression.

Unable to tolerate Lin Heyu’s idle and unambitious demeanor, Ji Huai’s exasperation was unmistakable. He strode forward, grabbed Lin Heyu, and dragged him toward the front hall schoolhouse.

“Since you’re full and have nothing better to do, you might as well go study.”

“Come on, Teacher ” Lin Heyu put up a token resistance before reluctantly allowing himself to be hauled into the schoolhouse. The sky had darkened, and Ji Huai lit a lamp, squinting as he waited for Lin Heyu to begin reading.

Lin Heyu lounged lazily, holding his book crookedly. He drawled in complaint, “Teacher, I’m not aiming to become the number one scholar. Why bother studying so hard?”

Ji Huai choked back his frustration, feeling both helpless and disappointed. He picked up a scroll and tossed it onto Lin Heyu’s desk, sighing, “Studying isn’t just about imperial examination success. It’s also about understanding propriety and gaining wisdom.”

For once, Lin Heyu didn’t argue. Instead, he pondered thoughtfully and said, “Teacher, I have a question to ask.”

Surprised but pleased that the boy seemed to be developing an interest in learning, Ji Huai nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll share everything I know.”

“Does achieving imperial examination success require reading many books?” Lin Heyu asked with genuine seriousness.

“Reading is the foundation for imperial examination success.”

“Then those high-ranking officials have they read many books?”

“Of course.”

“But do they truly understand propriety and wisdom? Do they learn about the suffering of common people from those books?”

Lin Heyu fired off each question clearly and concisely, but his final inquiry carried particular weight. Under the flickering candlelight, his dark pupils seemed to hold countless unspoken doubts, clouded and impenetrable.

Ji Huai was momentarily speechless. His lips parted several times, but no words emerged. He didn’t know what experiences had led Lin Heyu to ask such questions, but he glimpsed a maturity and melancholy beyond the boy’s years. The young man before him carried heavy, solemn secrets, and the oppressive atmosphere left Ji Huai at a loss for words.

These were burdens no youth should have to bear.

After some thought, Ji Huai still couldn’t formulate a perfect answer. He stepped forward and placed his warm palm on Lin Heyu’s sweaty shoulder, where rough, uneven scars stretched from the shoulder blade down to the ribs a vicious and terrifying sight.

Ji Huai’s expression grew complicated. He pressed his lips together, his beautiful fox-like eyes narrowing slightly before he cautiously asked, “How did you get this injury? Does it still hurt?”

The scar was clearly old, extending from the shoulder all the way to the ribs, appearing both gruesome and frightening.

Lin Heyu followed Ji Huai’s slender arm with his gaze and saw the wound that had nearly cost him his life. If not for his loyal friend, he would have…

At the memory of his past companion, a shadow of sorrow crossed Lin Heyu’s face. He smiled bitterly and said, “I almost didn’t make it.”

But he refused to reveal any more than that.

Ji Huai wasn’t one to press for every detail. He nodded, then suddenly thought of something and widened his eyes in disbelief. “So you came to Li Village to escape trouble?”

Lin Heyu made a noncommittal sound and nodded in agreement.

Being forcibly sent here by his father was indeed to avoid the troubles in the capital, so Ji Huai wasn’t wrong.

Lost in memories of the past, Lin Heyu failed to notice the increasingly tender look in Ji Huai’s eyes a gaze filled with heartache, his hand on Lin Heyu’s shoulder trembling faintly.

What a fine child, such a resilient child.

From Lin Heyu’s fragmented words, Ji Huai pieced together what he believed to be the truth:

First, Lin Heyu was born into a poor family. The officials in his prefecture were corrupt and oppressed the common people, forcing Lin Heyu to enlist in the military at a young age.

This was a turbulent time when remnants of the previous dynasty were stirring unrest, refusing to accept the new emperor. Uprisings, large and small, erupted everywhere. The court dispatched troops to suppress the rebels, and Lin Heyu happened to enlist during this period. He fought bravely on the battlefield but suffered severe injuries perhaps inflicted by a formidable rebel leader who then held a grudge against him. To rid themselves of the burden, high-ranking officers in the army might have abandoned the gravely wounded Lin Heyu. Forced to leave the military, he came to the secluded Li Village to recuperate and evade pursuit by enemy rebels.

The more Ji Huai thought about it, the more convinced he became of his analysis. Nodding with certainty, he looked at Lin Heyu with even greater compassion, silently categorizing the tall and sturdy young man as a vulnerable, pitiable, and helpless student in dire need of care.

Regardless of the actual facts, this imagined narrative moved Ji Huai deeply. He was on the verge of weeping and embracing Lin Heyu to bestow upon him the care of “a teacher for a day, a father for a lifetime.”

While Lin Heyu was still lost in his melancholy, he had no idea that Ji Huai had already fabricated a tragic backstory for him.

The two of them were like a chicken talking to a duck completely misunderstanding each other.

As a science-oriented teacher, Ji Huai had mustered all his literary flair to concoct this life story for Lin Heyu.

The evening glow had completely vanished below the horizon, and darkness fell as expected. The empty Schoolhouse, illuminated by a single flickering candle, took on a ghostly and eerie atmosphere. Ji Huai and Lin Heyu stood and sat respectively, like two sculptures melting into the darkness.

After a long while, Lin Heyu finally pulled himself together, extracting himself from the quagmire of the past and donning once more the guise of an unambitious ruffian.

“Hey, Teacher, it’s a bit hot.”

The hand on his shoulder had never left. Although Lin Heyu cherished the comfort from Ji Huai, it was midsummer, and the heat was unbearable. In just a short while, a thin layer of sweat had formed on his shoulder, especially where Ji Huai’s palm rested, feeling scorching and clammy.

Ji Huai reined in his sentimental emotions, removed his hand, glanced at the sweat on his palm, and without hesitation wiped it on Lin Heyu’s trousers. After all, Lin Heyu was shirtless, and aside from his pants, there was nowhere else to dry his hand. Only Lin Heyu’s trousers were dry, leaving Ji Huai with no other choice.

Lin Heyu: “…”

Seriously? Just moments ago, he thought this person was considerate and gentle how could he now be so irritating?

Perhaps Lin Heyu’s gaze was too full of resentment, making Ji Huai feel a twinge of guilt. He clasped his hands behind his back and said nonchalantly, “Fine, I’ll do the laundry next time.”

Lin Heyu pouted, “This student wouldn’t dare…”

Ji Huai clicked his tongue in annoyance but found no grounds to argue.

“You’ve barely studied any of the book but managed to spout plenty of nonsense,” Ji Huai remarked sarcastically.

Lin Heyu, already accustomed to such comments, paid no mind. He cheerfully gathered his books, picked up the candlestick, clearly intending to end his torment in the Schoolhouse.

Ji Huai let him go, after all, he had just fabricated a pitifully tragic “background story” for Lin Heyu. To show some compassion for this “struggling youth,” a harmless bit of skipping class could be forgiven.

“Let’s go,” Ji Huai said, “and see what late-night snack A Hua has sent over.”