While Ji Huai was lost in thought, Lin Heyu’s arrogant and rebellious words reached his ears.

Lin Heyu said with defiant disdain, “I don’t want to attend class. What could a down-and-out Cultivated Talent like you possibly teach me?”

Ji Huai slowly buried the magnolia flower in his hand beside the Chinese bellflower, then produced a ladle from somewhere and watered the plants. The glistening water droplets moistened the yellowing leaves of the Chinese bellflower, bringing them a touch of vitality.

After completing these tasks, Ji Huai stood up, dusted the soil from his hands, and remarked calmly, “The temperament may be rough, but the flowers are quite lovely.”

“When I arrived, this courtyard was already like this. Those who practice martial arts have no leisure for fiddling with girlish things,” Lin Heyu retorted, glancing around the flower-filled courtyard with indifference, his train of thought unconsciously diverted by Ji Huai.

For the first time, Ji Huai’s expression truly darkened. Lin Heyu’s mischief had caused the death of the original owner, Ji Huai, and now his laziness was leading to the withering of the entire garden’s blossoms. His careless attitude showed no regard for the former owner’s efforts in creating this sea of vibrant flowers.

Ji Huai shook his head, feeling somewhat disappointed in Lin Heyu, but he didn’t lose heart. Instead, he remained optimistic, thinking they should take things one step at a time.

Ignoring Lin Heyu’s frustrated stomping behind him, Ji Huai employed a strategic retreat. Without a word, he led the group of curious children back to the Schoolhouse.

This child couldn’t be forced; he had to come willingly. So Ji Huai decided to step back and see if the boy, deprived of playmates, would choose to come to the Schoolhouse on his own.

Unaware of the confident smile on Ji Huai’s face as he turned to leave, Lin Heyu only saw the blatant, unconcealed disappointment that made Ji Huai’s expression overlap with his father’s.

It was exactly the same look his father had given him so disappointed, so frustrated by his failure to meet expectations, so painfully glaring.

Lin Heyu’s heart sank repeatedly. His gaze flustered, he avoided eye contact, standing rigidly in place. Even the high-noon sun couldn’t disperse the chill that enveloped him.

He had seen enough of that kind of look.

By now, Ji Huai had long disappeared through the main gate. In the entire courtyard, only Li Yuanyuan remained. Timidly, he approached Lin Heyu and whispered advice, “Lin Xiaoniao, you should go to class today. The Teacher caught everyone, so no one can play with you or listen to your stories about the military camp. Even if the stories you make up are exciting, the Teacher’s stories are exciting too. Please be good and go to class.”

Li Yuanyuan genuinely liked Lin Heyu as a companion. Even though he had to crane his neck to see Lin Heyu’s face clearly, he had been drawn to Lin Heyu, who had only been in Li Village for a month, and unconsciously became his follower.

But now, it seemed he liked the Teacher even more.

After speaking, Li Yuanyuan didn’t wait for Lin Heyu’s response. Waddling on his chubby little body, he hurried off to catch up with Ji Huai.

Lin Heyu stood gritting his teeth in the courtyard. His newly acquired follower had defected to that pedantic Cultivated Talent in just a few days?

He stood unwillingly in the yard. As noon approached, the sun grew fiercer, soon enough to drench a person in sweat. Yet Lin Heyu remained motionless under the sun, his mind filled with the disappointed expression on his father’s face from a month ago.

…

“He Yu, the army is no place for someone your age. When you were twelve, you insisted on joining the Fenglin Army, vowing to achieve glory and distinction. You said you looked down on our Lin family full of civil officials, claiming you would become the only mighty military general in the Lin lineage. But now? You’re nothing but a coward hiding in the army, afraid to face reality.”

Lin Hong, nearing fifty with a graying beard trembling in agitation a chief minister who dared to remonstrate with the emperor at the risk of his life now gazed with pleading eyes at his youngest and most beloved child, Lin Heyu.

“My child, come back. The Fenglin Army is no longer where you belong.”

In his memory, Lin Heyu had shouted in agitation, vehemently arguing with his father, roaring, “The Fenglin Army didn’t lose! It was because of the provisions there was a traitor in the Fenglin ”

The remaining words were cut off by Lin Hong’s slap.

Stung by the unspoken implication, Lin Hong finally shed his gentle facade. His hand trembled slightly from the strike, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. In Lin Hong’s gaze was a faint trace of apprehension and a disappointment Lin Heyu couldn’t comprehend.

“Guards! Take the young master to Li Village. He is not to return for three years!”

And so, Lin Heyu was forcibly escorted to the village by family servants. He attempted escape multiple times, but his father was no fool well aware of his son’s stubbornness, he had secretly stationed guards to watch over him.

Lin Heyu, still just a youth, was no match for the brawny family soldiers. After repeated failed escape attempts, he finally acknowledged the gap between himself and his captors. Once he resigned himself to his situation, he was sent to Li Village’s only private school, becoming the student of a failed Cultivated Talent.

Lin Heyu never abandoned his desire to escape Li Village, but he knew he was still too weak. He needed to grow stronger before he could return to the Prosperous Capital, rejoin the Fenglin Army, and uncover the truth that everyone feared.

Beads of sweat traced paths down Lin Heyu’s resolute yet youthful face, stinging his eyes. He blinked reflexively, pulling himself out of the memory.

His expression darkened as he wiped away the irritating saltiness haphazardly. Opening his eyes, they now shone with determined resolve.

Attending class? He would go. He had to. Only by doing so could he lull his watchers into complacency and find an opportunity to escape this backward, dilapidated village and return to the Fenglin Army.

Perhaps by pleasing the Teacher and earning his approval, his father might finally acknowledge him and release him from this place.

Having grasped this key insight, Lin Heyu’s spirits lifted, his despondency vanishing. He resolved that his primary goal in Li Village would be to win over Ji Huai, then return to the Prosperous Capital.

Squinting, he walked under the magnolia tree. His field of vision filled with blossoms he had lived in this courtyard for a month now. The homeowner, an elderly woman who owed a favor to the steward, had been arranged to host him. She lived here with her granddaughter, A Hua. To accommodate Lin Heyu, the old woman and A Hua had temporarily moved to a relative’s home at the village entrance. The steward had paid A Hua’s grandmother a substantial sum to handle Lin Heyu’s daily meals, but due to her age, she couldn’t manage the cooking, leaving the task to A Hua. Recently, however, A Hua’s grandmother had fallen ill, leaving A Hua somewhat unable to attend properly to Lin Heyu.

Lin Heyu didn’t mind much. He could always scrape together some food to get through the day. This morning and noon, A Hua hadn’t come to bring him meals, likely unable to make it. Lin Heyu didn’t dwell on it there was no need to trouble a young woman. He still possessed some chivalrous regard for the fairer sex.

Even with an empty stomach, Lin Heyu remained unbothered. He casually plucked a handful of blue Chinese bellflowers from the ground, roots and soil still clinging to them, and brought them to his nose for a careful sniff. No intense floral scent reached him; instead, a delicate and elegant fragrance wafted with the breeze, reminiscent of the impression Ji Huai left on him.

Though Chinese bellflowers could be used medicinally to heal illnesses, Ji Huai, in contrast, could irritate people to no end truly life-threatening.

Thinking of the Teacher whose demeanor had shifted so dramatically before and after falling into the water, Lin Heyu curled his lips, his emotions tangled. Clutching the bellflowers, he trudged slowly toward the Schoolhouse under the blazing sun.

Yet, Lin Heyu carefully shielded the blossoms in his arms, keeping them out of direct sunlight.

Such a beautiful blue bouquet, much like that person if it wilted, it would lose its charm.

By the time Lin Heyu reached the Schoolhouse, a crowd inside was already reciting passages Confucian texts full of talk about benevolence and morality.

Lin Heyu didn’t care for it; he only had a taste for the stratagems of military tactics.

Lingering at the entrance, he hesitated to enter.

“Since you’re here, why not come in?” Ji Huai, sharp-eyed and lounging inelegantly in a round-backed chair, spotted Lin Heyu pacing outside through the lattice window.

With no one else to keep him company, it was natural he’d show up for class. A smirk tugged at Ji Huai’s lips, a flicker of pride and self-satisfaction at his own foresight.

Completely mistaken in his assumptions, Ji Huai was in high spirits until his gaze dropped and he noticed Lin Heai’s rough handling of the flowers. His eyes narrowed instantly, anger surging in his chest.

“Lin Heyu, could you show some care for plants? Flowers and grass are living things too!”

A roar of fury startled the absent-minded Lin Heyu, making him jump.

Caught.

Without dawdling, since he’d been discovered, Lin Heyu strode in boldly, enduring the varied stares of his classmates.

He passed the only vacant desk in the Schoolhouse without stopping, continuing forward until he halted before the statue of Confucius, just a single desk away from Ji Huai.

“Here, since you like them, they’re for you.”

After delivering this line with an air of dominance, Lin Heyu placed the flowers on Ji Huai’s desk, turned with a flourish, and walked back to his seat. He picked up a bamboo scroll with practiced ease and pretended to read.

“…”
Ji Huai calmly wiped the mud splattered on his face, rendered speechless for a moment before he couldn’t resist muttering, “Lin Heyu, do you think you’re acting in some domineering CEO drama?”

Lin Heyu didn’t understand, and neither did the other students, but everyone could tell it wasn’t a compliment. They burst into laughter directed at Lin Heyu.

Whenever these two crossed paths, it was like flint meeting steel. Lin Heyu shot to his feet, indignant. “I kindly gave you flowers! Was that remark meant as an insult?”

Ji Huai took a deep breath to calm himself. He’d dealt with plenty of mischievous students before, but someone as arrogant and conceited as Lin Heyu was truly a headache.

“Not insulting you praising your thoughtful gift,” Ji Huai said through gritted teeth.

Lin Heyu clearly didn’t buy it, his expression souring as he muttered under his breath, “I meant well giving you flowers. I picked the prettiest ones specially because I thought you’d like them.”

The radiant youth lifted his proudest head, openly displaying his youthful sentiments beneath the sunlight because you like it, I give it to you. No reasons, no causes, simply because I wish to offer it.

Ji Huai gazed at the most striking student standing in the humble schoolhouse, who seemed so out of place. The simple classroom, where only the sunlight was bright and priceless, along with this youth’s pure intentions.

On the table, a cluster of blue flowers bloomed brilliantly.

Ji Huai estimated the distance from Lin Heyu’s home to here. Under such intense sun, delicate flowers would typically wilt and curl after leaving their native soil. Yet this bundle of Chinese bellflowers brought by Lin Heyu remained vibrant, blue blossoms crowding together like a small patch of azure sky.

Upon closer reflection, Lin Heyu’s eyes seemed to carry subtle blue undertones too.

With Lin Heyu backlit, Ji Huai couldn’t see clearly, yet he always felt Lin Heyu’s eyes contained the color of the sky.

Pure.

But infuriating.