When Lin Heyu was exhausted to the point of dizziness mainly from extreme hunger he finally finished washing all the bowls and utensils. The waiter had nearly fallen asleep waiting. Upon hearing Lin Heyu utter the feeble words “finished washing,” the waiter felt as if he were hearing heavenly music. Without even checking if they were clean, he waved his hand, signaling for the man to leave quickly and vowing never to serve this jinx again.

Ji Huai had also nearly dozed off waiting. He had devoured an entire large pork knuckle by himself, the corners of his lips glistening under the moonlight from the window. His fox-like, narrow eyes carried a mesmerizing laziness. Lin Heyu stared, captivated, before shaking his head and silently cursing under his breath:

Fox spirit.

Lin Heyu trudged out of the kitchen. Surprisingly, Yuan Yuan was still there, his mouth gleaming with oil. The moment he spotted Lin Heyu, he exclaimed excitedly, “Lin Xiaoniao, you’re done washing!”

“Yeah, finished. You didn’t lift a finger to help your buddy in trouble,” Lin Heyu muttered weakly, his stomach so empty it felt glued to his back.

But Yuan Yuan scurried into the backyard on his short little legs and soon returned clutching an oil-paper package.

“Here.” Yuan Yuan looked up at Lin Heyu, who stood a head taller. His shiny lips and equally shiny snot complemented each other, making his round face appear even more plump and radiant.

Lin Heyu glanced at the package and asked, “What’s this?”

Ji Huai stepped forward from behind, took the package from Yuan Yuan, and felt its lingering warmth.

“Eat up. I couldn’t bear listening to your stomach growling anymore.”

After saying this leisurely, Ji Huai tossed the package into Lin Heyu’s arms. Lin Heyu fumbled to catch it, instinctively wanting to snap at Ji Huai, but the irresistible aroma from the package snapped him back to his senses.

Though the words weren’t exactly kind, to Lin Heyu, they sounded like divine music.

Lin Heyu pressed his lips together and looked down at the pork knuckle in his arms, still slightly warm. That faint heat made his chilled, dishwashing hands tremble.

A flood of thoughts rushed through his mind. He had already resigned himself to going hungry tonight, but who would have thought…

“Still not eating, silly boy? Don’t like it? If you don’t, I’ll take it.” Ji Huai strolled over to Lin Heyu, hands behind his back, threatening to snatch the food but making no move to do so.

“Who said I don’t like it? I love it!”

Whether Lin Heyu truly believed Ji Huai would take it or was just too hungry, he grabbed the knuckle and shoved it into his mouth, chewing voraciously. At that moment, this bite of pork knuckle was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

Yuan Yuan wiped his nose and tilted his head, watching Lin Heyu devour the food. Slowly, he said, “Lin Xiaoniao, Teacher specially saved this for you and had the waiter keep it warm the whole time.””

Lin Heyu paused mid-bite, elegantly yet heartily swallowing the meat. He glanced slowly at Ji Huai, who was walking ahead. The moon, fuller and brighter than usual, now hung proudly above the three of them. Ji Huai’s smooth, jet-black hair shimmered faintly under the moonlight, for a moment appearing even brighter than the rare black pearls Lin Heyu had once worn.

This person… might not be as sharp-tongued as he seemed.

Lin Heyu’s heart was in turmoil. Silently, he averted his gaze and carefully tore the pork knuckle in half, handing one portion to Yuan Yuan.

The two youths said nothing, yet Ji Huai seemed to have eyes on the back of his head, understanding everything clearly.

Hah, this kid is quite righteous.

Yuan Yuan sucked on his finger and didn’t take it. He said, “You eat it yourself. I’ve already eaten.”

“You’ve eaten?” Lin Heyu was somewhat surprised, as Yuan Yuan had no money to buy food.

Sure enough, Yuan Yuan continued, “The Teacher asked the innkeeper for two. The Teacher said that the money he earned today by storytelling for the innkeeper was more than enough to cover the shop’s losses, plus two extra pork knuckles.”

Hearing this, Lin Heyu continued eating, nodding silently. Ji Huai’s storytelling in the main hall was loud, and he had caught a bit of it. Those stories were truly thrilling, unlike anything he had ever heard before. What left the deepest impression on him was the tale of the 108 Heroes of Mount Liang the valiant heroes Ji Huai spoke of were no less impressive than the legendary Fenglin Army of old.

“Teacher no, I mean, as your Teacher, I can still handle such trivial calculations. We can’t just take a loss and let others push us around, right?”

Ji Huai, walking ahead, turned to look at Lin Heyu, who was almost as tall as him, and blinked, radiating smugness.

Lin Heyu’s breath hitched for a moment. Avoiding those captivating, fox-like eyes, he coughed lightly and casually acknowledged the Teacher’s small merit.

“We certainly shouldn’t let them take advantage. One must be tactful in life.”

“Hahahaha!” Ji Huai burst into laughter. Under the bright moon, cloaked in the night, he strode forward with unrestrained freedom, yet he walked alone.

Amid the aroma of the pork knuckle, Lin Heyu gazed somewhat bewildered at this Teacher who always seemed to oppose him. The meat in his mouth was something this impoverished Cultivated Talent had set aside his dignity and pride as a scholar to obtain through storytelling. He truly couldn’t fathom this usually rigid, bookish, and pedantic Cultivated Talent, who only believed in the sages’ teachings. What had come over him today that he had learned to be flexible and adaptable?

Unable to figure it out, Lin Heyu decided not to dwell on it. He had always been one to let things go easily. Gnawing on the pork knuckle, his mouth filled with rich flavor, he would carry the belief for the rest of his life that the most delicious food in the world was the pork knuckle Ji Huai had specifically saved for him.

Ji Huai couldn’t see through the bewildered thoughts of a half-grown youth. Even if he could guess, he would surely laugh heartily at Lin Heyu’s naivety. Back in the 21st century, he had never been one to accept losses. It was only because he pitied the boy washing dishes and couldn’t eat any more himself that he mercifully saved one for the brat Lin Heyu. Otherwise, he would have wrapped it up to take home as a midnight snack. The truth was, in front of his two students, he couldn’t bring himself to do something slightly embarrassing.

He strolled leisurely ahead. With the absence of the neighbors’ enthusiastic greetings at night, he could finally slowly appreciate this ancient, authentically existing world.

Everything that had happened today gave him a deeper understanding of this dynasty backward, yet with simple and honest folk customs like Yan Shi.

His long shadow was followed by one tall and one plump figure. Lin Heyu, eating the pork knuckle, was still touched inside. If he could have heard Ji Huai’s inner thoughts, he would have likely coughed up blood in fury, then thrown the pork knuckle to the ground and stomped on it fiercely.

But at this moment, the foolish boy Lin Heyu was only moved by what he wanted to be moved by, hearing only the kind words he wished to hear. The tension that had gripped him all day finally eased completely, and he followed closely behind Ji Huai, step by step.

However… half an hour later, as he and Yuan Yuan followed Ji Huai through twists and turns, watching the increasingly unfamiliar scenery, they grew wary and stared guardedly at Ji Huai who had suddenly stopped moving.

The night wind howled. Along the remote path, not a single soul was in sight. Tree shadows swayed, their rustling sounding like a terrifying chant, before specks of green light emerged from the grass, faintly illuminating the surroundings.

Pale, densely packed tombstones and mounds of graves gradually materialized.

“Why did you bring us here?”

“Come help me up.”

Two voices spoke simultaneously one forceful and intimidating, the other weak and trembling.

Ji Huai’s figure appeared unusually stiff under the night sky, a far cry from his earlier nonchalance.

Though he could still play the stern teacher with his students, facing rows of tombstones and graves, he was genuinely terrified.

He, Ji Huai a 21st-century educator, a staunch materialist, an outstanding teacher who could tame even the most unruly students had only one weakness: he was afraid of ghosts.

Extremely afraid of ghosts.

Lin Heyu also noticed Ji Huai’s unease. Approaching him, he realized the man’s slender frame was trembling faintly under the cover of darkness.

Lin Heyu frowned, somewhat puzzled. “If you’re scared, why did you lead us this way?”

“I…” Ji Huai’s lips trembled as he swallowed the humiliating words.

I’m lost.

That morning, Yuan Yuan had led him by the hand. Confident he had memorized the route, he had still lost his way in the darkness. After wandering for so long, they had ended up in this terrifying place.

Watching Ji Huai hesitate, Lin Heyu had a sudden realization and exclaimed, “Teacher, don’t tell me you’re lost? No way, no way?”

Damn, he wanted to swear.

The leaves continued to rustle, and the wind whistling through the tombstones created faint, mournful wails. In the disorienting darkness of this eerie graveyard, it sounded like the cries of vengeful spirits. The green glow from the fireflies cast a ghastly light, like the eyes of malevolent ghosts.

Ji Huai grew even more terrified, trembling more violently.

Lin Heyu chuckled. Crossing his arms, he felt he had regained some dignity, and his usual arrogant smugness returned to his face. Leaning close to Ji Huai’s ear, he whispered, “Teacher, not only are you lost, but you’re also afraid of ghosts?”

His tone was questioning, but his expression was certain.

Ji Huai felt utterly helpless, but the current environment genuinely frightened him. He had no energy to argue with Lin Heyu; all his previous sharp retorts had vanished without a trace under his fear of ghosts.

When Ji Huai didn’t retaliate, Lin Heyu grew curious. Was he really that scared?

“What’s the big deal? They’re just tombstones,” Lin Heyu frowned, somewhat disdainful.

Perhaps in the 21st century, Ji Huai wouldn’t have been this afraid, but since he had time-traveled, the existence of ghosts might not be so far-fetched. What if they were real?

The thought made Ji Huai even more frightened. He squeezed his eyes shut, not daring to look at the surrounding granite tombstones.

“Tch.”

Lin Heyu lost interest in teasing him. Without a second thought, he grabbed Ji Huai’s hand and called out, “Follow me, you coward.”

Ji Huai trembled all over the moment his hand was grasped, yet he didn’t pull away. With eyes closed, he followed the boy’s steps bit by bit. The faint warmth transmitted through their hands dispelled a fraction of his fear. He swallowed hard and softly retorted, “Don’t say that word it might attract those things.”

Yuan Yuan showed no fear either, even thoughtfully leading the way ahead. In a muffled voice, he said, “Teacher, my mother told me there are no ghosts in this world. Don’t be afraid.”

Ji Huai’s nerves were nearly frayed by these two careless students. With one mentioning ghosts left and right, these two were truly annoying.

Lin Heyu, however, was in rather good spirits, finally having discovered a weakness of the Teacher. From now on, if the Teacher bullied him again, he’d just scare him.

Thinking he had the Teacher under his thumb, Lin Heyu curled his lips into a mischievous smirk. His voice turned low and eerie, though the natural clarity of his youthful tone made it somewhat incongruous.

“Teacher, hold on tight now we’re about to pass through this area of tombstones and graves.”