Chapter 92: Burned at the Temple

Chapter 92: Burned at the Temple

After two bowls of hot noodles, it was nearly curfew.

Chen Jianfang escorted Xianjin to the courtyard gate and then picked up the cloth bag under the cherry tree and walked out to the outer courtyard.

Xianjin stood there for a moment watching the young man's back, then turned around and went inside. She took a comfortable bath with the warm water that Mama Zhang had brought back earlier and slept soundly until morning.

Xianjin thought that after her heart raced wildly, she would surely suffer some insomnia as a sign of respect.

But who knew that after eating clear soup noodles, her belly would be full, her happiness boundless, and her sleep exceptionally good.

As usual, she woke up to the third crow of the rooster (around 5:30 AM in summer). Xianjin, still half-asleep, got up, rubbed her eyes, and used a willow branch dipped in tooth powder to brush her teeth three times. The scent of asarum and mint in the tooth powder finally woke her up from within.

As usual, she practiced a set of Baduanjin and a set of Wuqinxi, sweating profusely and drenching her back.

As usual, after washing her face with warm water, she chose an authentic dung beetle-colored single robe from among the many similar ones. After examining it for a while, she lowered her eyes and changed into a small chicken-yellow round-neck shirt, adding a millet-flower bird skirt.

It remained simple but became much more lively and gentle.

At breakfast in the flower hall, Chen Fu, while drinking vegetable porridge, accurately caught Xianjin's deviation from routine.

"Wow! The dung beetle has molted!"

Xianjin: "…"

If vegetable porridge can't shut your mouth, you might as well stop drinking!

Following Chen Fu's words, Chen Jianfang lifted his gaze.

Chen Jianfang was stunned.

The young girl stood in the sunlight of the flower hall, her features delicate. The small chicken-yellow shirt added a touch of liveliness, and the millet-flower bird skirt embroidered with yellow primroses complemented her fair complexion and slender, upward-slanting eyebrows.

She looked very beautiful.

Chen Jianfang lowered his head and took a sip of millet porridge.

Mama Zhang's skills have really improved lately.

Why put sugar in millet porridge?

"Erlang said he already mentioned breaking off the engagement with the Cui family yesterday. In my opinion, we should quickly marry off Zuo Niang! Otherwise, if things drag on, she might end up with Seventh Uncle again."

Chen Fu ate a bite of crispy pickles, his eyes on the sweet soy milk on the table, but his mouth didn't stop talking.

Can't drink it, can't drink it at all.

Whatever is delicious, he can't eat it.

Xianjin nodded, "That makes sense."

Then she remembered that although Chen Fu was indeed a deadbeat playboy, he was also a well-connected one—eating out every day, he must know some people, right?

Xianjin said, "If you have someone in mind, you could recommend them."

"I do have someone!"

Chen Fu sat up straight. "The young master of Little Rice Fragrance, you know him, right? He's got red lips and white teeth, a small nose and small eyes. His family background is simple; he only has a widowed mother. Don't look down on their small restaurant now; they have excellent skills and a bright future!"

Xianjin pondered, "…He does look quite handsome."

Tall and fair, a bit like a singing and dancing male idol.

Chen Jianfang: "…"

Is this your standard for choosing a husband?

Others require their son-in-law to be the top scholar or wealthy beyond measure.

You require your son-in-law to have red lips and white teeth, a small nose and small eyes.

Chen Jianfang paused, then asked Chen Fu, "Does Third Uncle have any other candidates?"

Chen Fu immediately replied, "Yes! There's also someone from Xixiang Pavilion, who is good, but not as good-looking as the young master of Little Rice Fragrance."

Another chef…

"That won't do; he still needs to be good-looking." Xianjin shook her head, firmly rejecting this option.

Chen Fu agreed with his young lady, "Right, right! A husband must be good-looking, healthy, have a good temper, and ensure no worries about food and drink…"

You're actually discussing this seriously…

Chen Jianfang felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Forget it; don't rely on Third Uncle.

If Chen Fu is reliable, pigs can fly.

Chen Jianfang cleared his throat and interrupted Chen Fu's "Red Lips Selection Theory."

"It doesn't have to be someone from a restaurant. Although our family is in business, we have shops in both Xuancheng and Jing County, and nearly a thousand acres of public fields. We are not weak. Even though Zuo Niang is from a collateral branch, we cannot choose based solely on appearance. Family background and talent must be considered together."

When the main family helps find a match, how can it be based solely on looks? It would appear unkind and negligent to those with ulterior motives.

Chen Jianfang bowed slightly to thank Chen Fu, "Jin Jie'er is busy with the shop, and I am busy with my studies and the mountain courtyard. I hope Third Uncle will take care of this matter."

Xianjin glanced at Chen Jianfang and finished her white porridge.

After finishing breakfast, Xianjin and Chen Jianfang left together. Passing by the shop without entering, they instead headed towards Qingcheng Mountain Courtyard. Chen Jianfang glanced at the cloth bag Xianjin was carrying and smiled, "Going to the Thatched Bookhouse?"

Xianjin shook her head and replied with a smile, "I'm here to submit an essay to Qiao Shanchang—his assignment on the reflections after reading *Zuo's Commentary on the Spring and Autumn Annals*. He gave it a month ago, and if I don't hand it in soon, he might hit me."

Chen Jianfang chuckled, "Why did he make you read historical texts?"

Xianjin countered, "Girls can't read historical texts?"

Chen Jianfang hesitated for a moment, "...Not exactly, but historical texts are dry and tedious, filled more with meanings than stories, making them less..."

Chen Jianfang had intended to say "storybooks," but sensed that mentioning "storybooks" would lead to disastrous consequences, so he quickly changed his words, "less elegant and refined compared to poetry or literary collections."

Ah, so he was worried about her acceptance.

Xianjin's imposing demeanor deflated, and she retracted her clenched fist mid-air, nodding, "It's not too bad. *Zuo's Commentary* is more like a book of battles or travel tales."

"From the rise and fall of the Zhou Dynasty, it covers local customs, folklore, rituals, and social norms..." Xianjin continued as they walked, "Especially the war descriptions are vivid, giving one goosebumps."

Chen Jianfang looked at Xianjin in surprise.

Last time, this girl was still reading *Shuowen Jiezi*...

This time, she could talk fluently about *Zuo's Commentary*.

Was it due to Master Qiao's excellent teaching, or was Xianjin simply very bright?

The two occasionally exchanged a few words along the way, and the rest of the journey was in comfortable silence. After sending Xianjin to the entrance of Qiao Fangzhi's dedicated courtyard, Chen Jianfang hurried off to the classroom.

Chen Jianfang's hurried daytime back merged with the silhouette that escorted her back to her small courtyard at night.

Xianjin really wanted to tell him: there's no need to escort her everywhere...

She was sixteen years old physically and twenty-four mentally; she wouldn't get lost anywhere.

There was no need for someone to guide her every step of the way.

...

Inside the room, it was brightly lit, but Xianjin felt uneasy.

For no other reason.

Just because Qiao Fangzhi was holding her paper, frowning more deeply with each line, and his mouth twisting into a grimace.

After half an incense stick's time.

Qiao Fangzhi put down her paper, frowned, and rubbed his nose bridge, speaking with a tone of weariness.

"This paper of yours, I can't understand it, and I bet you can't either.

"Just burn it at the temple later and see if the gods can make sense of it."