Chapter 149 Day 13 of Transmigrating into an Imperial Examination Novel

Chapter 149: The Thirteenth Day of Transmigrating into the Imperial Examination Story

Time slipped through his fingers like sand, flowing away quietly as An Yi taught Qin Cang.

In the blink of an eye, a whole year had passed, with seasons changing.

The small courtyard remained as dilapidated as ever, though the few green plants in the corner, with An Yi's occasional care, stubbornly stretched out their emerald leaves, adding a touch of vitality.

An Yi glanced over. They ought to be blooming by now.

During this time, through the constant stream of comments in his mind, An Yi learned about Fang Huaixing's recent situation.

As expected, he had been taken on as the last disciple by the retired Grand Tutor, You Bohan, and was now confined to the mansion, undergoing rigorous studies to lay a solid foundation for his future path to official success.

Qin Cang's transformation, however, was plain to see.

He had grown taller, his frame shooting up like a sapling. Though still thin, he was no longer the frail figure he once was; the lines of his shoulders and back now hinted at the wiry strength of a young man.

Long-term hunting and labor had given his movements a wild, nimble grace.

More importantly, since he had broken through the barrier of literacy, his learning progress had been astonishingly fast.

That mind, once dulled by harsh living and the malice of others, once the key of knowledge had unlocked it, exploded with incredible potential.

No longer stumbling over his first lessons, he could now read various books fluently and had even begun to dabble in simple classical essays, drawing inferences with ease.

His comprehension was such that even An Yi would occasionally cast a faint, almost imperceptible glance of approval.

One afternoon, warm sunlight bathed the small courtyard.

An Yi had just finished explaining a passage. Qin Cang listened with downcast eyes, his focus unbroken.

When it was over, just as he had every day for the past year, he naturally rose and walked to the makeshift kitchen corner, skillfully starting a fire, washing rice, and preparing ingredients.

Yesterday, An Yi had bought a fish and kept it in the water tank. Today would be a good day to cook it.

An Yi did not stop him. He simply sat in his chair in the yard, his gaze calmly resting on Qin Cang's busy back.

The young man moved swiftly; a stretch of his toned forearm was bared beneath his rolled-up sleeves. His profile, focused on handling the ingredients, stood out sharply against the play of light and shadow, having shed much of its initial rawness and sharpness for a more composed demeanor.

An Yi watched him, as if observing a plant he had watered, seeing it go from wilted to gradually spreading its leaves and thriving.

This once thorny little sprout had indeed, under his casual care, blossomed with a different radiance.

The aroma of food soon filled the air.

Qin Cang brought the perfectly simmered fish stew and a few light dishes to the wooden table.

The two ate in silence, broken only by the soft clink of bowls and chopsticks.

Qin Cang ate quickly but not roughly—it was just a habit. He secretly glanced at An Yi, and seeing him still savoring the meal as if tasting a delicacy, that secret hope stirred within him once more.

For half a year, he had been saving up.

Every time he sold his catch or game, he carefully set aside a portion, hiding the copper coins one by one.

A few days ago, when he went to the county town to sell some pelts, he spotted a white mutton-fat jade pendant in a pawnshop window. The jade was warm and smooth, carved with simple cloud patterns—elegant and clean.

The moment he saw it, he felt... it should belong to An Yi.

Only someone like An Yi deserved something so clean and exquisite.

He didn't know if An Yi would like it, but he wanted to give it to him.

If he didn't like it, that was fine. He could keep looking until he found something that suited his taste.

After the meal, Qin Cang quickly cleared the dishes, scrubbed the kitchen spotless, even wiping down every corner of the stove.

This was a daily ritual he never missed.

Finished, he dusted off his clothes and was about to take his leave as usual, planning to check his traps in the mountains and then head to the county town the next morning to buy that jade pendant.

Just then, An Yi called him back.

Qin Cang stopped in his tracks and turned to look at An Yi.

An Yi sat there, his moon-white robe accentuating his jade-like complexion. The sunlight formed a faint halo around him, making him look ethereally beautiful.

He wore his usual gentle smile, like a spring breeze rippling across a pond, spreading a subtle warmth that touched the heart.

Yet, the words that followed made Qin Cang's blood run cold, as if it had frozen solid.

"Starting tomorrow, you don't need to come anymore."

His voice was still as clear and calm as ever, the tone gentle.

But the words themselves were utterly heartbreaking.

Qin Cang stood frozen, his pupils constricting sharply as he stared at An Yi's smiling face. For a moment, a ringing in his ears made him wonder if he was hallucinating from exhaustion.

He shook his head instinctively, his lips moving to utter a raspy sound: "...What?"

An Yi's gentle smile did not falter, nor did he take back his words.

He looked at Qin Cang, his expression still as placid.

"I said... you don't have to come tomorrow," he repeated softly, without any emphasis.

Qin Cang felt as if an invisible hand had gripped his heart, squeezing it tightly before hurling it into a bottomless abyss.

A chill seeped through his limbs and extremities, until even his fingertips grew numb.

He opened his mouth, but his throat felt blocked. After a long pause, he finally managed to force out a few words, his voice trembling uncontrollably: "Did I... do something wrong?"

His mind raced over recent events. Had he done something wrong? Had his characters not been written straight yesterday? Was the meal not tasty enough? Or... had those illicit thoughts he had hidden been discovered?

An Yi slowly shook his head, his gaze still calm as it rested on Qin Cang, as if it had nothing to do with him. "No."

He answered simply. "You did well. You haven't done anything wrong."

"Then why...?" Qin Cang's voice carried a sob he could barely suppress, which he forced back, unwilling to let it show.

An Yi tilted his head slightly, his gaze seeming to drift toward the vast sky beyond the courtyard, his tone carrying a distant, wistful note: "I've been here long enough."

He paused, then looked back at Qin Cang, the curve of his lips flawless: "The world is vast, and I am free to roam. Naturally, it's time to leave."

Qin Cang seemed not to understand, or rather, refused to grasp the meaning behind the word "leave."

He murmured, repeating, "Leave?"

"Mm." An Yi gave a slight nod, acknowledging his question.

Still clinging to a faint hope, Qin Cang took a small step forward, his eyes fixed on An Yi: "Then... when will you come back?"

Upon hearing this, An Yi suddenly let out a soft, clear laugh—a melodious sound that pierced through Qin Cang's last defenses like a shard of ice.

He shook his head, his tone casual and matter-of-fact: "There's no set time for my return. Maybe I'll come back... maybe I won't."