Chapter 276: Reunion with Li Yu

Lu Youwei’s name is now very well known in Shuixiang Town, and even people from nearby areas come specifically to hear him recite elegant literature.

As a result, the business at Ping’an Inn has improved.

Because of her son, Qian Shi had also developed a scholarly air, and with Lu Youwei’s growing reputation, she not only raised his salary significantly but also freed him from all menial tasks—his only duty was to recite elegant literature at meal times.

That afternoon, after finishing his work, Lu Youwei was silently writing down the next piece of elegant literature he would recite—Hong Lou Meng—when he heard someone knocking on the courtyard gate, faintly recognizing Qian Zheng’s voice: “Brother Lu! Open the door!”

Lu Youwei stepped out of his room and, through the courtyard gate, saw Qian Zheng standing with Zhao Weiru outside; he opened the gate and asked, “What’s wrong? Is there something you need?”

Qian Zheng now carried a scholarly aura, his status had changed, and his clothing had become far more luxurious—he truly looked the part.

“Miss Zhao says she wants to speak with you.”

Qian Zheng replied honestly.

Zhao Weiru glanced back at her maid, servants, and Qian Zheng, then said softly, “Please step aside—I wish to speak privately with Mr. Lu. Is that acceptable, Mr. Lu?”

“Of course.” Lu Youwei smiled and nodded.

To be honest, he held a favorable impression of Zhao Weiru, especially yesterday when she gained a scholarly aura after listening to him recite elegant literature—and she even rewarded him with twenty silver taels.

“Mr. Lu, this way, please.”

Zhao Weiru gestured politely, indicating they should move aside to talk.

“After you.” Lu Youwei and Zhao Weiru exchanged polite refusals, then walked side by side down the narrow path.

Zhao Weiru spoke directly: “Mr. Lu, doesn’t it feel beneath your talents to recite elegant literature in this inn? If you’re willing, our Zhao family would be happy to offer you far better conditions…”

Lu Youwei interrupted her: “I’m perfectly content with everything as it is. To be frank, I believe your gaining a scholarly aura has nothing to do with me—it was merely a coincidence.”

“No, no, no—I’m certain there’s a reason tied to you,” Zhao Weiru recalled, smiling. “Your recitation carries a narrative depth that draws one in effortlessly.”

“Thank you for your kind words,” Lu Youwei replied.

Now, whenever someone acknowledged the quality of his recitation, he felt an inexplicable surge of recognition and validation.

“If you ever wish to join our Zhao family, our doors will always remain open to you,” Zhao Weiru said with solemn sincerity.

“Thank you,” Lu Youwei said again.

They spoke a little longer, then returned.

As they reached Lu Youwei’s quarters, they met Qian Shi walking toward them; she glanced at Qian Zheng with confusion and asked, “Why are you here?”

Then her gaze fell on Lu Youwei and Zhao Weiru walking together, and she frowned—but said nothing. Instead, she turned to look behind her at a white-robed woman.

“Miss, this way, please. Our courtyard is large and very quiet.”

It turned out the woman was a guest seeking lodging.

The white-robed woman smiled and asked, “I heard your inn has a gentleman who recites elegant literature exceptionally well—in less than a month, three people have gained scholarly aura from listening to him? Is that true?”

“True, absolutely true!” Qian Shi beamed, pulling Qian Zheng beside her. “My son gained his scholarly aura just days ago from listening to Mr. Lu’s recitation.”

Then she pointed at Lu Youwei: “This is Mr. Lu—are you here specifically because of his reputation?”

The white-robed woman shook her head, then nodded: “Originally, I came to visit a friend whose family suffered misfortune. But while passing through the neighboring town, I heard of Mr. Lu, so I decided to stop by.”

“Mr. Lu, you’re not a cultivator?”

The white-robed woman was surprised; in her mind, the legendary Mr. Lu spoken of in hushed tones must at least be a cultivator.

Lu Youwei hadn’t heard her question—he was staring at her face, frowning: “You look so familiar… Wait, I think I’ve seen you in a dream. In the dream, your name was…”

He stammered for a long time but couldn’t recall her name.

The white-robed woman didn’t take offense at his awkwardness—she saw the clarity in his eyes and knew he wasn’t lying, nor was he speaking with frivolous intent.

“You truly saw me in a dream? And you remember my name?”

The white-robed woman asked with interest: “I have a friend whose dreams are also unusual. Perhaps your ability is extraordinary. My name is Li Yu. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lu. Do you have a scholarly aura?”

The white-robed woman was in fact Li Yu, who traveled widely across the Great Zhou Empire; she had come specifically to comfort the Bai family after hearing of their misfortune.

Passing through this area, she heard rumors of Lu Youwei and decided to stop by.

That was why, upon seeing Li Yu, Lu Youwei felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity—even his sealed memories stirred faintly, for his recollection of her was too powerful to be fully suppressed, and surfaced unconsciously.

He simply assumed the vague memory rising in his mind was merely a dream.

“I—I don’t have a scholarly aura.”

For some reason, Lu Youwei felt sad—because if he didn’t have one, this white-robed woman might look down on him, and he didn’t want that.

It was strange: when facing the equally beautiful Zhao Weiru, his heart remained perfectly still. But meeting Li Yu, he felt an inexplicable tremor.

This feeling was too strange.

“I see,” Li Yu said politely. “Then perhaps I’ll have the chance to hear you recite elegant literature later.”

Lu Youwei quickly bowed and replied.

At that moment, Zhao Weiru, who had been silent beside them, suddenly brightened, clapped her hands, and exclaimed: “I know who you are now! I adore your poetry—you’re the talented lady Li Yu, aren’t you? I even have your portrait at home!”

The talented lady Li Yu!

Even if others didn’t recognize her, everyone had heard her name—she was the leading young female literary prodigy of the imperial capital.

At dinner, Lu Youwei deliberately put extra effort into reciting Hong Lou Meng, for just a short distance away, the talented lady Li Yu sat listening.

But clearly, his effort was wasted—after listening for a while, Li Yu quietly returned to her courtyard to rest.

After dinner ended and all guests had left.

While helping to clear the tables, Qian Zheng approached Lu Youwei, who stood lost in thought, and whispered: “Brother Lu, what are you thinking about?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Lu Youwei snapped back to reality and smiled.

It was truly strange—he cared deeply about Li Yu’s opinion of him, wanted to approach her, yet feared doing so.

Who was he?

Who was she?