Chapter Thirty-Nine: Too Many Words Lead to Mistakes

When Gan Sui received Banxia’s package, more than half a month had already passed. That day happened to coincide with a literary gathering. After it ended, he and Lin You returned together to the inn, where the headmaster, Sir Hechuan, was, as usual, still deep in conversation with old friends.

“Every time I attend a literary gathering, I feel like I’m about to die. My head feels several sizes larger, and I have no idea how you manage to hold up, Gan.”

Gan Sui was exhausted, but it wasn’t a physical fatigue—it was a weariness of the spirit. He had only been in the ancient world for half a year, and his reading of the classics was naturally not as broad as that of the other scholars. Because of his status, he was constantly being compared to others. His pride would not allow him to lose, nor could he let his teacher lose face. So he had no choice but to expend hundreds of times the effort of his peers. This time, he’d stayed up all night just to barely make it through the gathering.

Rubbing his aching temples, Gan Sui suddenly found himself missing Banxia terribly. If she were here now, she would surely be simmering a warm soup, waiting for his return.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. “Sir, have you returned?”

Lin You went to open the door. “What is it?”

“Someone sent something for you. Since you weren’t in, the innkeeper took it for safekeeping. He asked me to bring it up to you now.”

Lin You took the package and looked at it. “Gan Sui, it’s a letter from little Banxia.”

Gan Sui shot up from his chair, bounded to the door in a few quick steps, and snatched the letter from Lin You’s hands.

“If you want to send a reply, just give it to me—I’ll post it for you. I won’t disturb you any longer.” The inn’s attendant withdrew.

“Gan, what did little Banxia send you? Let me see! I bet there’s something delicious—come on, hand it over.”

“Quiet,” Gan Sui said. It was clear he couldn’t read the letter in peace just now, so he started by opening the parcel.

“So much food! I want—” Lin You reached out, only for Gan Sui to snap the lid shut with a smack.

“Don’t be so stingy! I’m sure little Banxia sent something for me too.”

“If I recall, our teacher said he’d be coming to check on the pages you recited yesterday when he returned tonight…”

“Ah, I’m doomed—I forgot everything… I’m dead, really dead. Gan Sui, I have to go and study now!” He dashed off to his own room in a fluster.

Gan Sui quickly locked the door and opened Banxia’s letter.

“A younger brother?” Gan Sui weighed the matter in his heart. Banxia was still too kind. If she ever met someone devious, she’d surely be taken advantage of—especially with this mysterious ‘younger brother’ showing up. It was worrisome…

He pondered for a moment and then picked up his brush to write a reply.

As soon as he finished his letter, the headmaster and Sir Chuan returned. Lin You was still far from having memorized his texts and was inwardly frantic. Yet Sir Chuan didn’t even look at him, instead entering the room with the headmaster, both wearing solemn expressions.

Lin You breathed a huge sigh of relief and quietly knocked on Gan Sui’s door.

“Haha, I escaped! I keep forgetting about this. Come on, bring out whatever little Banxia sent. There’s such a big package—you can’t keep it all to yourself.”

Gan Sui had no choice but to open the parcel, sift through its contents, and hand him a small, dry, withered smoked fish. “That’s all there is.”

“Gan Sui, how could you! Such a big package, and you only give me a palm-sized fish? Doesn’t your conscience hurt?”

“Not at all. You should be grateful I’m sharing anything.”

“I don’t care—” Lin You lunged for more, but Gan Sui, having learned some self-defense techniques in the modern world and keeping in practice these past months, managed to fend him off. Lin You, caught off guard, sent a chair flying into the wall with a kick.

The headmaster and Sir Chuan both emerged. “What’s going on?”

“I kicked the stool over by accident,” Lin You confessed at once.

“Such energy! Get in here—have you recited your texts?”

“Ah?” The world is ending for me.

“Ah what? Hurry up.”

“It’s so late—can’t I recite them tomorrow? I don’t want to disturb you, Teacher.”

“It’s no trouble. It’s just reciting some texts. The longer you delay, the later it gets.” Sir Chuan was strict and unyielding. The headmaster, however, was less troubled. Gan Sui was always diligent, completing his assignments with quality exceeding expectations. It wasn’t that he couldn’t be strict—sometimes he even wanted to test this boy’s limits, but so far, he’d never seen Gan Sui falter. But tonight…

“What’s that smell? I think I smell smoked fish…”

“Headmaster, look in that big package—little Banxia sent Gan Sui a whole lot of treats.” Hmph, if I can’t have any, neither can you.

“Gan Sui, that’s not right. How could you not share your good fortune with your teacher? Since it’s your first time, I won’t punish you harshly. I’ll just confiscate these snacks. Take this as a lesson—honor your teachers next time. It’s late, don’t be hard on the child. Let him recite tomorrow. Old Chuan, look, there’s even dried pork here. Let’s have the attendant bring us some wine and enjoy a drink.” The headmaster’s suggestion was readily accepted by Sir Chuan.

“Consider yourself lucky. If you don’t recite perfectly tomorrow, I’ll have your hide.”

“Yes, Teacher, I’ll study hard.”

The two teachers retreated to their rooms to drink. Gan Sui fixed Lin You with a steady gaze.

“Don’t blame me! You wouldn’t share with me first,” Lin You protested, still aggrieved.

Gan Sui smiled coldly. “Do you know that children who tattle are struck by heaven’s wrath?”

His voice was soft and gentle, but it sent chills down Lin You’s spine in the middle of winter. “I’m going to bed!” He dashed off at lightning speed. Oh, Gan Sui is truly terrifying—Mother, I want to go home.

He was furious. Banxia had made those treats with her own hands, and he hadn’t gotten a single bite. Clearly, the child needed more discipline. Tomorrow, he’d be sure to teach Lin You a proper lesson.

Meanwhile, the headmaster and Sir Chuan were cheerfully enjoying their wine in the room. “Heh, it’s the first time I’ve seen my disciple show such an expression—what fun.”

“You, always stealing from the younger generation…”

“Then don’t eat.” As he grabbed at the food, he feigned the upright air of a teacher. Hmph, hypocrite.

“I’m only worried you’ll eat too much and lose sleep,” Sir Chuan quipped.

“Gan Sui is still too mature for his age. With such heavy studies and all the traveling, I worry he won’t be able to bear the burden, but he endures it all in silence. I truly admire that kind of will. But as his teacher, I don’t want him to be all study and no life. I’d rather he retains some humanity. Now I think I understand: Banxia is his soft spot, the thing that keeps him human. That sets my mind at ease.” The headmaster sipped his wine as he spoke with Sir Chuan. “I’ve always wondered, is it good or bad to have a weakness?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’ve seen so many examples—you and Rou Niang, the Emperor and the late Empress… All deeply attached, and in the end… I always wanted to ask you: knowing how things turned out, do you regret meeting Rou Niang?”

“I’ve never regretted meeting her. She’s the only thing in my life worth cherishing. Even now, I relive those memories every day, drawing a little warmth to carry on. I can’t die—not while the one who caused her death still lives. Missing someone isn’t a particularly intense feeling; it’s more like your very breath grows lighter, because those memories are so fragile that one touch and they’re gone…”

“Let’s not talk about this. Drink.”

“Drink,” Sir Chuan agreed, raising his cup for a swallow. “What kind of wine is this? Bitter as wormwood.”

“Then don’t drink. Have some tea instead. Do you think we’ll ever find that child? Or could he already be dead?”

“Since Jiang Yufeng sent us that message, it must be truly urgent. We’ve missed the news for so long, hope is slim. All we can do is our best and leave the rest to fate.”

“What worries me is the Emperor’s temperament. Right now, that child is his only hope. If things end badly, I fear the throne may change hands…”

“Watch your words. Enough of this—let’s drink.”

With that, the two no longer dwelled on heavy matters. After a few more cups, they each retired to their rooms.

The next day, Lin You, through bitter experience, finally learned the lesson: “the more you say, the more mistakes you make,” and that Gan Sui was truly ruthless. Oh no, he felt like he was about to collapse again and needed another trip to the latrine.

Banxia remained blissfully unaware of the snack-fueled uproar she’d caused.

“Big sister, I finished writing—how does it look?” Anzi ran over happily.

“Let me see.” Since Anzi didn’t want to attend school, Banxia had asked Wang Xiaoshan to find some children’s primers. She taught Anzi to read while having him copy out characters. Banxia had found out that the local academies required entrance exams for children. Since Anzi wasn’t willing to go just yet, she thought it best to lay a solid foundation first.

When Banxia picked up the writing, she was stunned. Was this really a child’s handwriting? It looked better than her own.

Seeing Banxia’s troubled expression, Anzi twisted his fingers anxiously. “Big sister, is my writing that bad?”

Banxia came to her senses and quickly hugged him. “No, not at all. I’m just amazed—you write so well. Do you remember how to read these characters?”

“I do. This is ‘person,’ this is ‘cloud,’ this is ‘sky’…”

“You recognize them all?”

“You taught them to me, didn’t you?”

But I only taught you twice.

“Oh my, you’re so clever! At this rate, I must be the slowpoke here.” Not only did Gan Sui have an eidetic memory, but now Anzi also seemed to never forget anything after seeing it twice. Only she struggled with her handwriting and reading, squandering the supposed “golden finger” of her time travel.

“It’s all right. What’s mine is Big Sister’s. If I’m smart, that means you’re smart too. One day, I’ll earn lots and lots of silver to buy you candied dates and gold hairpins.” Anzi had always remembered that the brother-in-law he’d never met had once sent his sister a box of candied dates and a wooden hibiscus hairpin. She was always so happy whenever she saw them. But now, the candied dates were almost gone, and she was reluctant to eat them. As for the hairpin, she hardly ever wore it, afraid to damage it. If he could earn money in the future, he’d buy her lots and lots of candied dates to make her happy, and plenty of gold hairpins so she could wear a different one every day. They said gold was precious, so he would have to work even harder.

Banxia smiled and kissed him. “You’re such a good boy. Big Sister loves you most.”

“I love you too,” Anzi replied, blushing.

“I’m going to keep practicing my writing.”

“Want to play for a bit? Take a break?”

“No, I like writing.”

Banxia could only clutch her chest in mock agony. Everyone at home was a prodigy—how was anyone supposed to keep up?