Chapter 85: The Challenges of Being Head of the Family

After a while, Jiang Lan wiped her hands, smoothed the wisps of hair dampened by a faint sheen of sweat on her brow, then turned to Xie Muyun. “What was it that you said just now, sir? I didn't quite catch it—could you repeat it once more?”

Old Master Xie shook his head hurriedly. “Oh, nothing! I simply think you did well, yes, very well! As for that Gu Chengwu you mentioned, leave him to me. I promise to make him a pillar of the nation!”

Jiang Lan gave him a curious glance, but did not dwell on it. She hoisted the sack once again and, with Xie Muyun in tow, went to find Qingli, who was waiting at the door. Together, they returned to the Guo Gong Manor.

Upon their arrival, Jiang Lan released Xie Muyun from the spirit pouch and found him a new object to inhabit. As for the sack she had been carrying, she simply tossed it into the courtyard, hands on her hips as she watched the figure still writhing on the open ground.

Qingli, ever perceptive, promptly brought out a pearwood chair carved with intricate flowers and a black lacquered side table inlaid with mother-of-pearl. “Great Immortal, please have a seat.”

Jiang Lan smiled, rewarding her with a look of approval.

“Ahem, ahem~”

Qingli, still in high spirits, shot an angry glare at the old man nearby. “What are you coughing for? Go away!”

“Ahem, ahem, ahem!” This time, Old Master Xie nearly coughed out his lungs.

Jiang Lan glanced up at Qingli. Qingli pursed her lips. “I may be a demon of several hundred years, but that old ghost is only a few decades old, and yet—hmph!”

Despite her grumbling, Qingli brought over another pearwood chair, setting it half a step behind Jiang Lan’s. She even shot a particularly defiant look at Xie Muyun when she was done.

“Ahem~”

“All right, fine, you win!”

Qingli nudged her chair a bit closer, not quite level with the other, but no longer as distant as before.

Whenever she looked at Xie Muyun, Qingli could scarcely conceal her displeasure. Yet, since the Great Immortal favored him, she dared not complain too much.

“Great Immortal, after working through the night, wouldn’t you care for something to eat? I’m quite skilled in the kitchen.”

Jiang Lan was not hungry, but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how Old Master Xie, though averting his face, kept pricking his ears and swallowing hard at the mention of food. She said, “Just prepare a simple meal, two portions. And bring some pastries—something sweet for one of the plates.”

Qingli happily skipped off. “Something sweet—who would have thought the Great Immortal, so cold and aloof, would like sweets, hehe~”

Her misunderstanding was complete. Later, when Jiang Lan pushed the plate of meticulously prepared pastries toward the ghost, Qingli’s heart shattered into pieces.

“Great Immortal, was it not to your taste?” she asked, crestfallen.

Jiang Lan set down her chopsticks. “No, the noodles were delicious—your skills are impressive.”

“I meant the pastries, Great Immortal…” Qingli twisted her hands, her gaze fixed on her embroidered shoes.

Jiang Lan smiled. “It’s not your fault. I simply do not care for sweets.”

Qingli nearly burst into tears. She would have rather it were her own failing, for she loved sweets above all, and the Great Immortal’s distaste meant one less avenue to win favor. Ah, the injustice!

“Young lady, you did wonderfully!” came Old Master Xie’s voice.

Still heartbroken, Qingli shot a murderous look at the old fellow, whose beard was now dusted with crumbs. “Hmph!”

She retreated to prepare tea, fleeing from this land of sorrow.

After finishing the last piece of pastry, Old Master Xie was in high spirits. He no longer maintained a wary distance from Jiang Lan but beamed at her instead. “Since you’ve taken me in, you must know I am but a humble schoolmaster. Though you are my employer and provide food and board, courtesy cannot be neglected. What is your name, and have you an official style?”

“My surname is Jiang, given name Lan—‘Lan’ as in the mountain wind. As for a courtesy name, I have not yet come of age, so none has been chosen.” Jiang Lan thought that her courtesy name would likely be bestowed by that grandfather she had never met, though given his coldness toward her predecessor, she doubted it would happen at all.

“By age, I could be your grandfather’s peer. How about I call you ‘Shanzi’—Mountain Child?”

Jiang Lan’s mouth twitched faintly as she eyed the old man. “Shanzi?” Was this truly a name chosen by a great Confucian scholar? Could she have been mistaken?

“Perhaps—”

“Very well.” Before Old Master Xie could finish, Jiang Lan interrupted him. She suspected that if she refused, the old man would start calling her “Fengzi”—Mad Child.

A name is but a label.

Jiang Lan did not much care, but to be called “Mad Child” by a ghost, however learned, was a bit much even for her.

“Shanzi, when you asked me to return, you mentioned someone—what was the name? Gu, was it? Bring them here, let me have a look. I’ll see if they’re promising.”

Jiang Lan paused as she accepted the tea from Qingli, thinking, “So he agreed so readily without actually hearing what I was saying. I wonder how he’ll react when he finds out.”

Old Master Xie, delighted, took the tea from her hand and sniffed it. “An excellent tribute spring tea—your household is truly wealthy.”

At this, the greed that had earlier flitted across his eyes had vanished. All his attention was now devoted to the student he would one day teach.

“The tea is fine, but the formal ceremony of apprenticeship cannot be omitted. It’s a matter of respect, not just acquaintance.”

Qingli snorted from the side, her nose in the air, especially when she saw the fine tea she had prepared passed on to the old man. Fire flared in her eyes.

“That’s no problem at all,” Old Master Xie replied, visibly pleased. It was not that he coveted these things, but he could tell this “Shanzi” was exceedingly wealthy. Everything here—from furniture to utensils—was of the finest quality, worthy even of the palace. He was well acquainted with such things. Heavy gifts at the apprenticeship ceremony would signify the student’s respect for their teacher, and since there was also a demon here who was both obsequious and skilled in the kitchen, he could hardly allow himself to fall short.

“It’s just that the one you’ll be overseeing is not a person, but a ghost.”

The tea cup in Old Master Xie’s hand slipped and crashed to the ground. “What? That’s no laughing matter!”

“It’s true, I’m not deceiving you. It’s a ghost.” As she spoke, Jiang Lan gestured toward the sack beside them, whose occupant seemed utterly excluded by the three of them. “That one, right there.”

“I… What sort of household hires a ghost for tutoring? The world will marvel—so you intend to teach a ghost!”

Old Master Xie shot to his feet, face flushed with agitation.

“Sit down!” Qingli barked. “Is that any way to speak to my Great Immortal? Mind your manners!”

Startled, Old Master Xie plopped back down onto his chair.

Jiang Lan frowned slightly and patted Qingli’s arm, her tone edged with severity. “The gentleman is our elder. If you respect that, you may remain in this house. If not, I will send you and your original form back where you came from.”

Qingli was terrified. She immediately apologized, “My fault, my fault! Please, Great Immortal, don’t send me away. I have nowhere else to go…”

“Ah,” Jiang Lan sighed. She had not meant to be harsh. This child was only trying to defend her, and a few hundred years was still quite young for a demon. Still, the household was already in chaos with only a handful of residents. What would happen when more arrived?