Chapter 71: Seventy-Two, Please, Senior Brother, Discipline Me

Seventy-Two, Please, Senior Brother, Discipline Me

“Aren’t you busy with the new canal project?”

“Today I have nothing to do, so I came to see my junior sister.”

“So senior brother can also be lazy.”

“Not lazy—I’ve nearly finished everything, and I haven’t been idle these days either; I’ve been running around everywhere. Yesterday I even went to Donglin Temple.”

“What did you go to Donglin Temple for?”

“About Zhe Yiqu.”

“Zhe Yiqu? The new canal? Senior brother really knows how to name things.”

“How do you know I named it?”

“It’s just like your style.”

“I have no style… never mind. Anyway, I didn’t expect Master Shandao to still be so warm and hospitable, so considerate toward the government, insisting on joining Longcheng County’s Zhe Yiqu project…”

“That’s good. So senior brother really finished everything before coming over, right?”

“Right, junior sister, don’t worry—I didn’t neglect any official duties.”

“Oh.”

“Huh? Why is junior sister suddenly quiet?”

“Tired.”

“Then I’ll leave first—get some rest.”

“Wait, come in.”

“Uh, won’t that be inconvenient?”

“I’m lying down fully clothed.”

“Then alright. I brought you some grapes.”

“Grapes?”

In a boudoir with little feminine perfume but thick with the scent of books.

Ouyang Rong walked straight through the front hall and pushed aside the gauze curtain of the inner chamber, approaching a faintly silhouetted bed.

The bed’s pearl curtain was half-drawn, half-rolled; a Confucian-clad maiden with black hair tied by red cords sat leaning against the headboard, hugging the quilts to cover her ample chest, glancing sideways at him twice. When he drew near, she turned her gaze straight ahead, not looking away.

“What happened to senior brother’s face?”

Ouyang Rong walked over and opened the window; through squinted eyes he could see the maids waiting in the courtyard.

He pulled over a chair, sat by the window, exhaled deeply, and pointed to two small red marks on his right cheek:

“These? Last night I was picking grapes—the trellis collapsed. Xī, I should’ve known better than to let Weilai hold the ladder; I nearly crushed her, and she’s not strong anyway. I admit, I was careless—sat too long at my desk, lost my agility…”

Xie Ling frowned slightly, her eyes not on him:

“Shouldn’t senior brother be reflecting on why he enjoys showing off and doing things himself? That day after you whipped me, you told me not to act impulsively—but what about you? These tasks should be left to servants. A man of wealth doesn’t sit near the eaves. Why did senior brother pick grapes at all?”

Ouyang Rong blinked, glancing at his junior sister, whose tone carried a hint of reproach.

It felt like she’d changed a little since we last met.

Had she matured a bit?

Without arguing, Ouyang Rong reached into the box he’d brought, took out a plate of washed grapes, and silently placed it on the small table beside the bed.

Xie Ling caught sight of it out of the corner of her eye, realized something, and fell silent, unwilling to say more.

Ouyang Rong smiled and nudged the plate. “Here.”

Xie Ling didn’t turn her head. “I won’t eat.”

Ouyang Rong nodded and pulled the plate back.

“Wait, leave it.”

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t eat?”

“You give it, then take it back?”

The maiden behind the pearl curtain glared at him.

“Oh oh oh.”

Ouyang Rong smiled inwardly and set the plate down properly.

His junior sister is a little adorable—saying one thing but meaning another.

“How did senior brother know I like grapes?” Xie Ling asked softly.

“Your father told me.”

“You asked my father about this?” She turned to look at him.

Ouyang Rong smiled but said nothing.

He never asked about his junior sister’s preferences or tastes—not before, not now.

Actually, it was Auntie who asked his teacher Xie Xun. Only Auntie cared about such things.

Auntie mentioned it over dinner yesterday, so that night, someone—the young county magistrate—went to the dried-up grape trellis at Meilu Garden and took them.

After all, visiting someone without a gift would be awkward.

Ouyang Rong didn’t explain, afraid she’d frown and kick him out again.

“Senior brother’s inquiries are thorough.”

Xie Ling turned her gaze away, speaking softly.

Her hand slipped out from behind the pearl curtain, reaching for the grape plate—then paused, pulling back.

“Junior sister, when you eat grapes, you don’t spit out the skins, do you?”

“Don’t you spit them out, senior brother?”

Xie Ling fell silent, for out of the corner of her eye she saw the man casually plucking a grape and popping it into his mouth, utterly unbothered.

“Mmm,” Ouyang Rong mumbled, his answer as vague as silence.

Xie Ling’s forehead darkened with lines.

Senior brother truly doesn’t treat himself as an outsider.

The once reserved, shy maiden instantly shed her propriety and hurried to snatch back some grapes before his greedy hands claimed them all.

Outside, in the courtyard filled with Jianlan orchids, the maids on duty occasionally glanced back curiously—and saw through the window a handsome man and a beautiful woman, separated by pearl curtains, competing over grapes.

One maid who had served Xie Ling for many days couldn’t help exchanging astonished glances with her companion.

This Xie lady hadn’t smiled in days, let alone shown such lively energy—not even when Su Xiaolang came to visit.

Inside, after a brief commotion, the plate of grapes vanished like a storm.

Ouyang Rong glanced at the shadow behind the pearl curtain and asked:

“Junior sister, your injury is on your back—why are you sitting upright?”

Xie Ling lowered her eyes. “Should I lie face-down to fight senior brother for grapes?”

Ouyang Rong fell silent.

Indeed—how could she receive guests lying face-down? And junior sister is so proud.

“True. How is your injury now?” He paused, then added, “It doesn’t look serious, does it?”

“You inflicted it—don’t you know?”

Silence stretched between the pearl curtain and outside.

The atmosphere grew cold.

“Sorry,” Ouyang Rong spoke. “At the time.”

“No, no need to apologize.”

The maiden inside the curtain whispered low:

“Senior brother’s discipline was appropriate. I was actually happy then—you didn’t treat me as an outsider.”

“Father once said: outside the family and those who care for you, no one will bear the consequences of your mistakes, nor bother to get angry over them.”

“So senior brother’s actions then… I understand. Thank you for disciplining me.”

Xie Ling unconsciously bit her lower lip again. “If I make a mistake again, senior brother may… continue to discipline me.”

“That day was a special case.”

Ouyang Rong blinked, then chuckled. “Next time I can’t use the whip again, can I?”

It was meant as a joke—but a soft whisper drifted from behind the curtain:

“It’s not impossible.”

As Ouyang Rong gasped, Xie Ling immediately said:

“Actually, I still don’t understand why she treated me that way.”

Ouyang Rong paused, then realized—the “she” must refer to Hu Ji, Zhiying.

Hugging her chest through the quilts, Xie Ling leaned back against the pillow, gazing at the gauze canopy above, her face slightly vacant:

“I saved her from the hawk attack. I cared for her safety. I bought her freedom. I brought her back to give her dignity… so why did she choose to help a man who insulted her, abused her, and looked down on her? If she had a reason—coercion, hidden pressure—why didn’t she tell me? That betrayal hurts more than anything.”

She turned her head, gazing at his handsome face with its two fresh red marks, and asked:

“Is it true, as books say, that barbarians fear authority but not virtue? Perhaps a little—but I feel it’s not entirely that. Even if she weren’t a Hu woman, things might still have turned out this way…”

“Where did it go wrong? Books don’t say. What color is this world, really?”

Ouyang Rong turned to look out the window at the bright spring light and asked: “Have you figured it out now?”

The whispering Xie woman fell silent.

She suddenly noticed the morning sun had reached the courtyard, falling precisely upon the young man before her—knees bent, hands resting on them, intently listening.

This scene felt familiar.

That day outside the county government office, she was exhausted and broken, staring blankly as her senior stood beneath the midday sun to announce a just verdict, then boldly unveiled a shocking new construction—just like this.

That year in the old mansion of Wu Yi Alley, the young girl hid behind the door and watched her father sit upright on the hall’s seat beneath the fading crimson of sunset, refusing the Wei clan’s olive branch with unyielding defiance—just like this.

That year, the Great Qian became Zhou, the Empress ascended the throne, the Qian imperial family was slaughtered, leaving only a handful alive, blood splattered across the palace halls, panic spreading across the land, the Wei princes dominating the scene, the Five Surnames and Seven Clans, the Guanzhong nobility, the northern and southern scholar families all bowing their heads.

Only her father refused, even as every clan member begged him—he still declined to enter court, refusing to kneel before the Zhou court.

Why had she, for so many years, studied fiercely, rejected marriage, and strained to cultivate Qi?

Because of the light she had seen on her father’s body that day in the old Wu Yi Alley mansion—she had felt, for the first time, the “qi” of a scholar, becoming the first among all her Xie siblings to enter the rare rank of Qi Refiner.

This was the beginning of everything, the thing she had stubbornly pursued all these years, nearly becoming… faith.

Xie Ling cannot forget.

And now, she saw—the light on her senior and the light on her father were very similar, yet not quite the same.

Her senior carried a different kind of “qi,” one that from the start had drawn Xie Ling’s curiosity, making her want to investigate…

That was why she had just asked him to continue guiding her—she secretly looked forward to the scenery along his path, different from her father’s, and wished to follow him and experience it.

“Senior.”

Xie Ling softly called, lifted the pearl curtain, and looked at him with clear eyes, saying seriously:

“I haven’t fully understood yet, but no matter what… what she did is absolutely wrong, and this world is certainly not entirely dark—it’s different from what I once thought, I’m disappointed, but… I won’t give up.”

She paused, her gaze fixed:

“I still believe that light has always existed—justice will come.”

Ouyang Rong fell silent for a moment: “Good.”

After this candid heart-to-heart, the atmosphere grew quiet for a long while.

Such serious topics are not suited for prolonged discussion, especially not in broad daylight.

Talking about life and ideals? You’d better wait for darkness, wouldn’t you?

Soon, the senior and junior switched topics.

“By the way.”

As if sitting too long, Ouyang Rong rose and paced inside the room, remembering something—he turned back curiously:

“Among the maids who brought me in just now, was there a little maid in a goose-yellow dress? Do you know her?”

“Goose-yellow dress?” Xie Ling tilted her head. “Are you talking about Cai Shou? The one with the baby fat?”

Ouyang Rong nodded.

Seeing that familiar round-faced little maid, he too had been surprised.

“Could she be your maid?”

“No,” Xie Ling shook her head. “She’s the personal maid of Su Xiao, the younger sister next door. She came this morning at Wei Auntie’s request to change my medicine.”

“Su Xiao?”

Ouyang Rong murmured and nodded.

That made sense—so she was from that family.

But his junior had never mentioned the Su family before.

And he’d lived in Mei Lu Yuan for so long, yet only once, by chance at the Donglin Temple on the mountain, had he encountered the Su girl.

He didn’t know if it was because he was always busy, or because the law-abiding Su household was so reclusive.

“Why are you asking about her?” Xie Ling glanced sideways.

Ouyang Rong casually mentioned the umbrella incident from yesterday’s pavilion.

“So it really is fate,” Xie Ling nodded.

“What fate? The county’s this small—you bump into each other all the time,” Ouyang Rong dismissed it.

Xie Ling looked at her senior, hesitated, then introduced:

“This family… well, I forgot to tell you before—this family’s master is surnamed Su, named Xian, a longtime friend of my father, someone who studied with him.”

“Fellow student?” Ouyang Rong nodded in understanding.

Xie Ling didn’t explain how exactly they “studied,” choosing her words carefully:

“Su Uncle and Wei Auntie have one son and one daughter. The eldest son is Fu, three years older than you—earnest, honest, diligent and studious; the youngest daughter is Su Xiao—gentle, thoughtful, pure-hearted, doted on by the whole family. These past days, I’ve lived next door to her… they’ve all treated me very well.”

In the Zhou dynasty, noblewomen’s private nicknames could not be casually revealed; outsiders, even if they knew them, must not use them—only the family rank should be used.

Ouyang Rong nodded. “Good. By the way, I owe the Su household a favor—I’ll find a chance to meet them someday.”

Xie Ling had long known about the Su family’s donation of a thousand taels of silver before the Dragon Boat Festival, and wasn’t surprised; she nodded and asked:

“When you visited just now, didn’t you see Su Uncle or Su Dalang?”

Ouyang Rong shook his head—he had come in plain clothes, presented his name card, and was immediately shown in.

“Then you must have come too early—Su Dalang is probably still reading in his study. As for Su Uncle… well, no matter. When they hear you’ve visited, they’ll come by later—you can meet them then.”

“Alright.”

Ouyang Rong gave a slight nod—he felt nothing for such social rituals, but he still possessed basic manners and emotional intelligence.

Seeing this, Xie Ling opened her mouth but held back.

The letter her father had written in advance for her senior was still in her possession.

But it wasn’t the right time to hand it over.

Yet Xie Ling didn’t think her senior should befriend or flatter this family.

Quite the opposite—this family should be the one trying to flatter and court her senior.

So what difference did it make whether he knew or not? And given his single-minded focus on flood relief and water management, even if he knew, he probably wouldn’t care.

“By the way, here’s this—take it.”

While Xie Ling was lost in thought, holding the bedding, Ouyang Rong by the window pulled something from his sleeve and tossed it lightly to her.

“What is this?”

Xie Ling froze, catching it—her palm held a translucent, smooth little pearl.

She naturally knew what it was.

Xie Ling’s face flushed with shame as she gripped the pearl, still warm with someone’s body heat.

“Senior, I was furious over the grain prices at the time and didn’t realize Zhi Ying was like that—I rashly gave away the night pearl you gave me.”

Ouyang Rong shook his head. “You made no mistake. A pearl is nothing compared to a human life.”

Xie Ling stared at him for a moment, then extended her hand, offering it back.

“Senior, you take it first.”

Seeing Ouyang Rong’s puzzled expression,

Xie Ling said seriously:

“This was your reward to me before—I misused it. Now, you take back the night pearl. If next time I do something worthy of praise, you can give it to me again, properly and openly!”

“You want ceremony, right? Fine.”

His junior looked quite amusing when serious; Ouyang Rong laughed, took it back, and carefully stored the night pearl again.

Only he knew it was actually a strange stupa, but everyone—including the pawnshop—called it a night pearl because it glowed, so he went along with it.

Then, the senior and junior chatted a while longer about Zhe Yiqu.

Looking at the sun, Ouyang Rong rose, preparing to leave.

But at that moment, a round-faced little maid rushed into the courtyard, glanced quickly at someone’s face, then bowed with perfect grace:

“Ouyang Young Master, our Dalang has come and wishes to meet you.”

Ouyang Rong raised an eyebrow and turned to look at his junior.