Seeing Lu Huaihai in a pensive state, Li Chenglan started teasing him again.
“Really, Brother Lu? Did I actually hit the nail on the head?”
Lu Huaihai ignored him. Finding no amusement in his own joke, Li Chenglan made a self-deprecating remark to smooth things over. “Hurry up! You can think about women later tonight. Don’t delay now and make the old man wait too long.”
“I’m not the one running late today,” Lu Huaihai replied. “It’s you. You slept in until the sun was three poles high.”
He was different from Li Chenglan.
He was a fake young master who occasionally acted recklessly just to anger his father.
But Li Chenglan was a real young master. Drinking, gambling, and visiting flower houses were common for him, and he was a frequent patron of brothels. He even aspired to become the lover of every courtesan queen in Taizhou Garrison.
To win favor, he often got into fights and petty disputes with other bureaucrats’ sons.
After all, with so many bureaucrats’ sons, who wasn’t a young master?
Li Chenglan always came out victorious in these altercations.
Not because he was particularly skilled at fighting, but because he had strong backing.
—When young masters fought, the competition wasn’t about who was better at fighting, but about whose father was more powerful.
Hence, there were many rumors in the city about Li Chenglan’s background. People speculated that he was the illegitimate son of a high-ranking official in the capital. His legal wife was childless and domineering, forcing Li Chenglan’s father to send him to this place far from the capital. However, as his biological son, Li Chenglan’s father didn’t mistreat him and provided him with everything he needed.
Lu Huaihai had met him two years ago, their acquaintance beginning with a brawl. Over time, as they grew closer, Lu Huaihai never asked about his friend’s background.
Likewise, Li Chenglan never pried into the affairs of the Lu family.
The midday sun blazed fiercely, making people parched and uncomfortable. The shimmering light reflected off the river was beautiful at first glance but quickly became harsh to the eyes.
The two quickened their pace and arrived at Li Chenglan’s residence.
Unlike the somewhat desolate Lu residence, his home was much more spacious, with several courtyards. Yet, despite the size, apart from the servant girls working there, the only residents of the estate were Li Chenglan and an old servant named Song.
The “old man” and “master” that Li Chenglan referred to was none other than this Old Song.
This old servant was peculiar. He was completely indifferent to Li Chenglan’s bad reputation and never interfered with him. However, every afternoon, if Li Chenglan dared to skip martial arts practice, he would beat him until his head bled.
Unable to endure the old servant’s oppressive teaching style, Li Chenglan had a cunning thought: the old man only had two eyes and could only focus on him. If he dragged Lu Huaihai into the lessons, the old man would have to split his attention.
And so, he immediately roped Lu Huaihai in.
Martial arts were often passed down through family tradition. Since Lu Huaihai’s family fell into turmoil when he was twelve, his father, Lu Paizhang, no longer wanted his son to follow the old path and stopped teaching him martial arts. From then on, Lu Huaihai had to grow and learn on his own.
To Lu Huaihai, Li Chenglan’s invitation was like someone offering him a pillow when he was drowsy.
However, the closer he got to this young master, the more Lu Paizhang saw it as “one who nears ink becomes black.”
Sure enough, after practicing martial arts, Lu Huaihai bid farewell to Li Chenglan and Old Song, slung his long sword over his back, and returned to the Lu residence.
Just as he stepped over the threshold, he heard a loud clang behind him.
“Close the door properly,” Lu Paizhang ordered the servant at the gate.
It was a setup, as though he were trapping prey in a jar.
Lu Huaihai paused for a moment, then resumed walking forward.
In the blink of an eye, Lu Paizhang had already reached his son’s side. With one hand, he drew the newly forged sword from Lu Huaihai’s back and held it horizontally in front of him.
Lu Paizhang asked, “Which shop made this?”
Lu Huaihai stopped walking and answered, “Chen’s Ironworks on East Street.”
Looking at his son, who had now grown as tall as himself, Lu Paizhang gave a faint hum of acknowledgment, performed a sword maneuver, and then flipped the sword back toward him.
Reacting faster than he could think, Lu Huaihai swiftly raised his hand to catch it. Without blinking, he swung the sword mid-air—
A tiny flying insect, no larger than the eye of a needle, had its wings severed and fell to the ground with a faint fluttering sound.
The blade reflected the glimmer of twilight and a cold sheen. Lu Huaihai sheathed the sword.
Lu Paizhang clapped his hands, then asked, “Good sword. Where did you get the silver for it?”
Lu Huaihai replied matter-of-factly, “Of course, I signed Deputy Lu’s name for it.”
Deputy Lu Paizhang’s face instantly darkened. Playing the kind father was truly not his strong suit.
But Lu Huaihai remained unconcerned.
In the Yongchao, hereditary official positions were not granted without qualification. For a son to inherit his father’s post, there was an evaluation process.
Filial piety was paramount, and any shortcomings in this regard constituted the first barrier.
Thus, at most, Lu Paizhang could discipline his son behind closed doors. He couldn’t possibly go out and make a scene with the merchants on the street, saying, “I’m severing ties with my son—his signature under my name doesn’t count.”
Of course, Lu Paizhang knew what Lu Huaihai was thinking.
His clever son had turned the tables. While other families used filial piety to control their children, his son used it to control him.
Unwilling to continue pretending to be the benevolent father, Lu Paizhang once again engaged his son in a full-blown martial showdown. Madam Su arrived upon hearing the commotion to mediate, and coincidentally, the First and Second Madams, who were strolling nearby, stopped to spectate.
As usual, Lu Huaihai’s expression was calm, devoid of any discernible emotion.
Lu Paizhang knew that disciplining his son this time would be as futile as always. Taking a deep breath, he said to Lu Huaihai, “Don’t think for a moment that as your father, I’m harming you.”
“Only someone like you, who’s never been to the battlefield or seen death, would yearn to pick up a blade and go to war.”
Madam Su nudged her husband’s heel, silently signaling him to stop talking.
The First and Second Madams were still present, and their husbands had died in battle. It was inappropriate to speak this way in front of them.
Sure enough, the two madams, who had initially been watching for entertainment, stiffened.
The words were already at the tip of Lu Paizhang’s tongue, and he couldn’t stop himself. Addressing the back of Lu Huaihai’s head, he continued.
“For two generations, our Lu family has been loyal to the core. And what did it bring us in the end? Promotions? No! Your father is now sitting here on a cold bench, managing a group of people who are neither soldiers nor civilians, just farming the land!”
“Now, civil officials hold all the power, and the military system has been abandoned. No matter how ambitious you are, what’s the point without soldiers? And besides, this is Jiangnan, not Liaodong! There aren’t even any Tatars for you to fight!”
Growing increasingly agitated, Lu Paizhang lashed out with a kick to the back of Lu Huaihai’s right calf.
“Are you mute?”
Snorting coldly, Lu Paizhang added, “Fine! If you insist on holding on to this idea, go kneel in the ancestral hall! Reflect in front of your grandfather and uncles’ memorial tablets!”
He was genuinely furious this time, and Madam Su didn’t try to intervene further.
Lu Huaihai turned back and faced them.
His father’s eyes burned with intensity—anger, disappointment, concern, and the frustration of seeing potential unmet.
His mother’s gaze was weary, silently accusing him of causing worry and heartache.
This time, Lu Huaihai didn’t retort.
He said, “Every word Father has spoken, I understand clearly.”
Then, Lu Huaihai turned again and walked steadily toward the ancestral hall.
He used his actions to demonstrate his attitude.
Xie Miao’er did not meet the Old Madam of the Lu family.
The girl she encountered halfway was the daughter of the Su family—Lu Huaihai’s biological younger sister, Lu Baozhu. She was twelve years old this year but had injured her head when she was younger, leaving her mentally impaired, with the intelligence of a child.
This information was given to her by Zhengya.
When Zhengya accompanied Xie Miao’er partway, she suddenly remembered she had forgotten to lock Lu Baozhu’s room before leaving. Using a stomachache as an excuse, she hurried back, only to find that the little miss had already sneaked out and knocked Xie Miao’er’s hairpin loose with a wooden sword.
Zhengya quickly apologized, “Auntie, I’m terribly sorry. Allow me to fix your hair before you go to see the Old Madam.”
Xie Miao’er nodded, not angered by Lu Baozhu’s actions.
So Lu Huaihai had a sister, though she was kept away from others due to her illness.
How did someone like her, whose name was absent from history, spend her life? Xie Miao’er wondered quietly as she looked into Lu Baozhu’s bright, innocent eyes.
After some delay, it was getting late. By the time they reached the main courtyard, one of the Old Madam’s servants tactfully suggested that Xie Miao’er return another time.
Back in her small courtyard, Xie Miao’er and her two maids began sorting through her belongings.
Since Lu Huaihai had said he would come again, it wasn’t appropriate to keep making him sleep on the floor. Xie Miao’er wanted to see if she could find something useful for him.
She busied herself until evening, and the sky had already darkened.
The only table in the room wobbled precariously, with three of its four legs unstable. Dani had reported this to the steward, who promised to replace it the next day.
Xie Miao’er nodded and said to Dani, who had just returned, “Thank you for making the trip.”
Dani, who appeared to be about the same age as Xie Miao’er, grinned and said, “It’s no trouble, no trouble.”
Just as Xie Taifu wouldn’t accept giving his daughter a vulgar name like Goudan (Dog Egg), Xie Miao’er also found Dani’s name to be too casual. She asked, “Do you or your sister’s names have any special meaning?”
Dani shook her head blankly, her round eyes full of confusion. “Girls’ names don’t have any meaning! My sister’s and mine are just based on birth order.”
Hearing this, Xie Miao’er said, “Well then, would you mind if I gave you a new name and changed it on your contract as well?”
Dani nodded enthusiastically.
She understood that only trusted personal attendants would have their names changed by their masters. She had worried she wasn’t clever enough and would always be stuck doing menial chores.
After a brief moment of thought, Xie Miao’er said, “From now on, you’ll be called Yue Chuang. ‘Yue’ as in ‘moon,’ and ‘Chuang’ as in ‘window.’ Does that sound good?”
Xing You and Yue Chuang (star skylight and moon window) are terms used to describe the openings in rock caves that let in light. Though Xie Miao’er had never had the chance to see such mountain scenery in person, she could imagine how beautiful it would be for the faint moonlight to filter through Xing You and Yue Chuang.
Dani—no, Yue Chuang—didn’t understand the origin of the name, but she repeated it twice to herself and found it much more pleasant than Dani. She was overjoyed.
She first wanted to kneel and kowtow to Xie Miao’er, but after being stopped, she curiously asked, “Miss, you can read, can’t you? That’s amazing!”
After her flattery, Yue Chuang rubbed her hands together nervously and said, “Miss, I have a younger sister too…”
Her meaning was clear: she also wanted Xie Miao’er to give her younger sister a new name.
Before Xie Miao’er could come up with one, they heard the sound of light footsteps approaching. It was Erni, carrying their dinner.
Yue Chuang, concerned about her sister, rushed to take the heavy food box from her hands. Xie Miao’er squinted her eyes and smiled, saying, “You two sisters are so close. Since Erni is your sister, let her name start with ‘Yue’ as well. How about Yue Lian?”
Before Yue Lian could even process what was happening, her elder sister had hastily pressed her to give thanks.
Xie Miao’er opened the food box.
Because of Madam Su’s instructions, her dinner that night consisted entirely of vegetarian dishes.
As the three—mistress and maids—were eating dinner, loud arguing voices drifted into the secluded courtyard.
Xie Miao’er suspected that the Lu family members were quarreling again over Lu Huaihai. However, given her current status, there was nothing she could do about it, so she suppressed her worry.
This time, the noise quieted down fairly quickly.
About half an hour later, a familiar figure appeared quietly at the gate of the small courtyard.
Of course, it was Lu Huaihai.
Sometimes, his father was even more “rebellious” than he was.
It was Lu Paizhang who had insisted he kneel in the ancestral hall. But seeing that his son was truly determined to go, he suddenly changed his mind, had the ancestral hall locked, and declared that Lu Huaihai was an unworthy son who didn’t deserve to face his ancestors.
It was as if he couldn’t stand the thought of his son getting what he wanted.
Lu Huaihai stood silently in front of the ancestral hall for a long time.
For a moment, he realized he had no desire to go anywhere.
Without thinking too much, he found himself walking toward the place he had spent the previous night.
He was about to stride right in.
But for once, Lu Huaihai hesitated and gave it a bit of thought.
His expression must be stiff and unpleasant now—probably embarrassing.
Meanwhile, Xie Miao’er, hearing the sound of footsteps, took a few steps outside to greet him. As she looked up, she saw the tall and imposing Lu Huaihai standing at the doorway, vigorously rubbing his face with his palm.