Chapter 76: Following the Heart

Chapter 76: Following the Heart

Perhaps because it had been a rare clear and sunny day, the moon in the night sky cast a soft, hazy glow, its light gently falling from afar.

A light mist under heavy moonlight, deep waters over shallow sands.

"Mingchao is kind and insightful, open-minded and free-spirited."

Xie Yan's calm and gentle voice rose in the night, carrying a warmth that seemed to smile, yet also a hint of sharpness in its sigh.

Lu Mingchao pouted, "If the second young master of the Sun family heard this, he'd probably be furious."

Her? Kind? That's debatable.

"You might as well say that I follow my heart in all things, perhaps making errors but never regretting them."

Xie Yan's smile deepened, "Following your heart?"

"I married Mingchao, following my heart."

Lu Mingchao's heart pounded, but she feigned composure and rolled her eyes at Xie Yan, "Smooth talker with a glib tongue."

"From which heart?"

Her voice was casual, yet carried a hint of solemn readiness.

"The heart of a moth drawn to the flame," Xie Yan said slowly, his expression devout.

Lu Mingchao frowned, "Self-immolation?"

What an inauspicious metaphor.

Xie Yan raised an eyebrow, somewhat helplessly, and reached out to rub Lu Mingchao's forehead, "As stated in the 'Biography of Dao Gai' from the Book of Liang, 'Grinding ink to write, the brush flies to send a letter, like a moth to the flame—how can one regret the burning?'"

"Mingchao, the moth flies to the flame, drawn to the light."

"That is the perfect fulfillment of seeking benevolence and obtaining it—how can it be called self-destruction?"

Lu Mingchao: I think I understand, but not completely.

In short, being with her is the perfect fulfillment.

"I reluctantly accept this explanation," Lu Mingchao said with a proud lift of her chin, humming.

"Let's go home, I'm so hungry my legs feel weak."

Lu Mingchao's stomach chose that moment to let out a loud growl.

"I'll carry you," Xie Yan said, bending down.

The surroundings were empty and quiet, so there was no fear of gossip.

Lu Mingchao, "Can I? Really?"

"Can I really enjoy such a noble treatment?"

Xie Yan's lips twitched slightly, and he sighed lightly, "Come on, get up here."

Lu Mingchao laughed openly, "A Yan, admit it, you've been wanting to carry me for ages."

"Indeed," Xie Yan murmured tenderly.

Lu Mingchao leaned against Xie Yan's back, gently encircling his neck, "A Yan, why are you so sure I'm the flame worth chasing?"

Xie Yan's steps were steady, feeling her warm breath gently brush his neck, bringing warmth and a slight itch, "We have all the time in the world; I'll tell you bit by bit."

But it feels like it will never be enough.

The more time they spent together, the brighter that light grew.

"A Yan, anyone would think you went to town today just to pick up some cheesy lines."

"Tsk, don't be ridiculous..."

Lu Mingchao rested her head on Xie Yan's shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

Truth be told, she was utterly exhausted.

The moonlight draped over them like a veil.

...

Feng family.

Both Fan Xiucai and his son wore somber expressions.

Old Lady Feng, Fan Xiucai's biggest supporter, had taken ill, lying weakly in bed.

Elder Feng paid no mind to household matters, pacing aimlessly with his hands clasped behind his back, barely noticeable unless you were looking for him.

And the elder sister-in-law Feng seemed to have suddenly opened up her meridians, needling Fan Xiucai with veiled barbs and indirect slights.

Even the shameless Fan Xiucai couldn't endure the elder sister-in-law Feng's incessant vulgar language.

Comments like "may your child be born without an anus."

Or "may you carry a dung basket on your back, like a dung beetle on a dung cart."

Or "may you be as worthless as a donkey's dung, dull inside and out."

Fan Xiucai prided himself as a scholar, and even if those he interacted with lacked real talent, they still affected an air of elegance, and their insults were always subtly sarcastic. It had been a long time since he'd heard such crude, excrement-laden insults.

He also wanted to retort in his own way, but the elder sister-in-law Feng never named names from start to finish.

If he spoke up, it would seem as though he were admitting to the accusations.

Wouldn't that be slapping his own face?

Fan Xiucai's son, on the other hand, resented the tactless Lu Mingchao, his face twisted in a grimace, plotting to teach Lu Mingchao a lesson.

If Lu Mingchao knew, she would surely click her tongue twice, and then say in a theatrical tone, "No need, I'm already quite good-looking. If I get any better, will there be any room for others to live?"

She should keep her good looks to herself!

Feng Jinyu's mother's throat was hoarse from scolding, and after gulping down a ladle of water, she regained her spirit.

Seeing that Fan Xiucai and his son still sat unmoved, waiting for her to serve the meal, Feng Auntie was thoroughly enraged.

Having scolded so many people in Changxi Village for so many years, she had never seen anyone as composed as this father and son.

With a loud bang.

Feng Auntie threw the water dipper into the water jar and strode into the main hall. "Scholar Fan, it's pitch black out there, just as your son said, with few people around. If you don't leave soon and run into some wild boars or wolves coming down the mountain for food, you might end up in a bloody mess."

"Surely not, surely not, Scholar Fan wouldn't want to stay overnight at my place, would he?"

"Scholar Fan, you've read the books of sages and preach lofty principles. My husband has gone out with the shopkeeper to buy goods, and the house is full of the elderly, weak, women, and children. No matter how you slice it, it's not suitable for you and your son to stay overnight."

"If my reputation as a rough peasant woman is ruined, so be it, but Scholar Fan, you're aiming for an official position."

Fan Xiucai's face turned beet red with embarrassment, unable to speak, he could only hint subtly, "I still need to teach your youngest son to read and write."

Feng Auntie paused, her anger momentarily quelled, but she quickly raised her head and neck, full of vigor. "We can talk about that when the time is right. Could it be that Scholar Fan is holding a grudge?"

"Isn't it said that a prime minister's belly can hold a ship? Didn't you study to become a prime minister?"

Fan Xiucai: ...

Prime Minister?

He might as well be dead.

He, a down-and-out old scholar, had indeed dreamed of becoming a high-ranking official in his youth, but now, he only hoped for a comfortable life with some official support.

"Scholar Fan, please," Feng Auntie said seriously.

Fan Xiucai glanced at his son, who caught on immediately, "Auntie..."

Feng Auntie picked up a broom, "You leave, and I'll sweep the floor."

"Stop calling me auntie. Could it be that you two were spiders, rats, or bugs in a dragon king temple in your past life, washed away by a flood?"

Swinging the broom stroke by stroke.

Truly sweeping them out the door.

Before closing the courtyard gate, Feng Auntie shouted to make sure the neighbors could hear, "Goodbye, and don't come back!"

Fan Xiucai and his son stood bewildered in the howling north wind.

The Feng family, are they all a bit off?

In town, they had coaxed him with sweet words, but now they were driving him out with a big broom.

"Father, what do we do now?"

Fan Xiucai's son shivered in the cold, his short coat offering no protection against the biting wind.

Fan Xiucai's voice was grim, "The Feng family has no respect for face."

"Do you have any coins on you?"

"Father, how could I possibly have money!" the young man raised his voice.

Fan Xiucai, "Either find someone else to stay with for the night, or hire a donkey cart back to town."

The young man, "No money."

The short day had a cold light.