“Alright, A Hua, there’s no need to feel inferior or be timid around me.” Ji Huai walked back to A Hua’s seat and looked at the empty desk, where only a crude brush made from hollow bamboo and some unknown animal hair, along with a bamboo slip, lay.

It was clear that great care had been taken in its making the bamboo was cleanly shaved without a single splinter, the brush hairs were neatly arranged, and even a small flower was carved at the top of the ‘brush’.

Ji Huai’s heart was filled with mixed emotions, and the shock in his eyes was impossible to conceal.

In Li Village, poverty and backwardness were common, but he had never seen a child as destitute as A Hua.

The children who came to study with him could at least afford a very cheap brush.

But A Hua could not.

Ji Huai suddenly felt a pang of heartache, remembering his own childhood as an orphan, reluctant to throw away a pencil even when it was worn down to a nub.

Lin Heyu also came over, furrowing his thick brows at the sight, and asked in confusion, “I pay rent to live at your place, so how come you can’t even afford a decent brush?”

A Hua smiled despondently and explained with some embarrassment, “My father took all the money to gamble. A few days ago, my grandmother fell ill, and we had no money for treatment. I scraped together some coins here and there to buy her medicine. Fortunately, my grandmother is still quite hardy, and she’s been able to get out of bed these past few days. That’s why I finally have time to come to the schoolhouse.”

She twisted her fingers together a few times before continuing, “I sell flowers in town ten flowers for one copper coin. Not many people buy them, so it took me a long time to save up just that little bit for the tuition fee. I originally thought about buying a hairpin for myself, so I wouldn’t look too shabby when I get married.”

Ji Huai and Lin Heyu listened silently, ultimately saying nothing, though Ji Huai made a mental note of it.

He was somewhat surprised and asked, “Is A Hua already betrothed?”

Hearing this, A Hua waved her hands repeatedly, shaking her head like a rattle drum. “No, no.”

“Then why are you thinking about marriage so early?” Ji Huai teased, assuming it was a young girl’s romantic fantasy.

But A Hua’s words deepened his understanding of how feudal and backward thinking here harmed people.

“No, Teacher.” A Hua lifted her small face, her smile turning bitter. “Every family in Li Village is poor. Everyone wants to have sons. Those who have daughters only keep them for one thing to sell them off when they come of age. Whether I marry or not isn’t up to me. I might be sold off any day.”

Tears welled up in A Hua’s eyes, and her clear voice grew hoarse. “Teacher, you say that studying can change a person’s fate. The boys here can study to achieve imperial examination success and become high officials. But we girls can only marry, bear children, and raise a family. My best friend was forced by her parents last year to marry a local bully in town, just to get two silver coins for her brother’s education. At the beginning of this year, when I went to town to sell flowers, I happened upon her family holding a funeral. People around said the woman in that family was useless she died before even giving birth. I watched helplessly as they wrapped her in a tattered mat and buried her in the graveyard.”

A Hua’s frail body trembled as she recalled the memory. That terrifying scene replayed over and over in her mind. In her midnight dreams, she often saw herself wrapped in that tattered mat.

Tears of fear fell in streams. “So I want to study. If studying is truly useful, I won’t have to marry. None of my sisters who don’t want to marry would have to. If it’s even more useful, maybe we could even leave Li Village and see the outside world.”

“The storyteller in town said that even noble young ladies in the capital can’t enter the schoolhouse, but they can read poetry.”

“If I could be as capable as Teacher, I’d make sure my sisters could study too. We’d all study together instead of only knowing about marriage and childbirth.”

Ji Huai listened silently, his heart turbulent and unsettled. So young A Hua had such deeply rooted fears buried in her heart.

He couldn’t help but sigh. This colossal feudal empire how could it be resolved with just a few words from him? His compassionate gaze fell upon the stubborn flower growing in barren soil. He had expected to see withered leaves, but instead found vibrant life.

After pouring out her deepest fears and anxieties, A Hua felt much lighter. These heavy memories weighing on her heart she hadn’t dared tell anyone. But today, she held nothing back from her Teacher. Lifting her small face, the shadows in her eyes receded as a sweet smile bloomed on her youthful features. “Teacher, I’m not scared anymore after saying these things. And look, Teacher though I can’t read poetry, I’m good at handicrafts. Doesn’t this brush look quite well-made?”

A Hua felt no shame about her handmade brush. She raised the “brush” carved with a small flower, innocent radiance spreading through her clear eyes, dispelling the shadows and fear within.

Such a tenaciously vibrant child was rare in Ji Huai’s teaching career. Most of his students followed rules meticulously; even those from poor families were cautious and reserved, none as proud and candid as A Hua.

Ji Huai’s fingers trembled slightly. He wanted to compose a poem to express his feelings, but lamented his lack of literary talent.

Lin Heyu had been standing quietly nearby, clutching the primer Ji Huai had given him, steadily observing the interaction between Ji Huai and A Hua.

Clad in blue robes, Ji Huai stood bathed in faint sunlight. Even standing there quietly, he was captivating.

Lin Heyu took in the pain, emotion, contemplation, and appreciation in that person’s eyes. His own mischievous, wicked heart throbbed and raced with the shifting light and shadows in Ji Huai’s gaze sometimes intense, sometimes gentle, sometimes hesitant.

The Teacher standing there so elegantly gave off an inexplicable aura of loneliness that compelled Lin Heyu, pulling him forward to offer comfort.

Following his heart, Lin Heyu stepped forward, awkwardly reaching to take Ji Huai’s hand. Just then, Ji Huai turned around, his cool, dark hair brushing past Lin Heyu’s cheek, rippling through his heart like waves.

Thump

Thump

Thump

Even facing enemies on the battlefield had never made his heart pound so violently, nor had he ever felt such cowardice and fear. But now, Lin Heyu panicked, feeling blood rush backward to his head.

Unfamiliar emotions, unfamiliar sensations spread from his chest. He stared blankly, pressing a hand over his heart, urgently trying to discern what this was.

Ji Huai, however, had no such complicated thoughts. Before him, one student was sweet and lovely, while the other was…

Beyond description.

Watching his rebellious student who kept spacing out, Ji Huai felt utterly drained.

“Earth to you.” Ji Huai waved his hand before Lin Heyu’s eyes, but before he could withdraw it, his hand was suddenly captured in a scorching palm.

Ji Huai froze, instinctively trying to wiggle his hand free in flustered resistance.

But Lin Heyu was like a stubborn calf, his grip terrifyingly strong far beyond what a frail scholar like Ji Huai could break.

“What’s wrong?” Ji Huai glanced at the dazed Lin Heyu, then at the worried A Hua, and suddenly understood. “Oh~ Are you afraid I’ll bully A Hua? Don’t worry, I’d never I care for her too much…”

“No.”

Ji Huai’s words were cut off. The hand held in Lin Heyu’s palm was slender and soft, cool to the touch a sensation Lin Heyu had never experienced before.

It felt as though with just a bit more pressure, he could crush and melt that hand right in his grasp.

He swallowed hard, his gaze fixed yet vacant, unable to form the rest of his sentence.

No, what? Not afraid of him bullying A Hua, nor of him bullying himself, but…

“Ah ” Lin Heyu shook his head violently with a low growl, his mind empty yet burning with heat. Ji Huai’s face swam before him, distant then close, elusive as clouds on the horizon.

This sudden outburst startled Ji Huai. Forgetting his trapped hand, he hurriedly told A Hua to fetch a doctor while steadying Lin Heyu’s swaying head. “What’s wrong, Lin Xiaoniao?” he murmured. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone mad?”

Amid his concern, Ji Huai couldn’t resist a sarcastic jab: “It’s not contagious, is it? You won’t bite me, right?”

“…” With his head held still, Lin Heyu found himself staring directly into Ji Huai’s striking fox-like eyes and exquisite features. The faint blush on his cheeks deepened into a fiery red.

“N-No need for a doctor,” he stammered, his words disjointed and tone unsteady. He didn’t even retort to Ji Huai’s teasing.

Little A Hua, who now obeyed Ji Huai above all, paid no heed to Lin Heyu’s refusal. She scurried away in a patter of footsteps and soon vanished from sight.

Now alone in the spacious, bright study, Lin Heyu and Ji Huai sat in silent confrontation.

Ji Huai shifted his wrist uncomfortably, only to have Lin Heyu tighten his grip.

He looked at Lin Heyu in confusion, wondering what had gotten into the boy today.

“Having a delusion?” Ji Huai’s mind raced with scenarios from period dramas where characters were falsely accused of madness, growing increasingly anxious.

Worried and fearful after all, if his student had a breakdown, his teaching career would likely be over. Irrational parents would devour him alive.

But right now, the irrational one was his student.

Lin Heyu blinked, drifting back to reality as he murmured, “Do you still want the book you gave me?”

Ji Huai choked back a reply and quickly humored him, “No, no, you can keep it if you like.”

He waved his hands emphatically, avoiding even a glance at the book that had triggered this obsession, afraid Lin Heyu might think he wanted it back.

Forcing a gentle smile, Ji Huai softened his voice to soothe the seemingly addled Lin Heyu. “I won’t take it from you. Just don’t bite anyone especially not me.”

If this fool actually bit someone, the consequences would be unthinkable.

No one knew which words had provoked Lin Heyu, but the next second

“Ow !”

A solid bite landed squarely on Ji Huai’s trapped finger.

“Lin Heyu don’t give me rabies!”

—

Wishing everyone a happy Qixi Festival!