Chapter 568: Becoming Shang Rong's Disciple

Li Er, with the green ox, passed through several lanes and alleys, arriving at the residence arranged for him by Zhou Ling Wang.

That was a small courtyard, kept clean and tidy.

Pushing open the courtyard gate, inside were a main hall, two side rooms, and a small courtyard.

In the courtyard, stone slabs were laid, and in the corner a tree was planted, its leaves already beginning to turn yellow.

Compared to the thatched mud huts in Qu Ren Li, this is far better.

Li Er looked around inside and out, then nodded.

He first settled the green ox in the cowshed behind the courtyard.

Although the cowshed was simple, it was sufficient to block wind and rain.

Inside the shed, a bundle of dry fodder had been prepared, and the fresh scent of grass wafted over.

The green ox walked in, lowered its head to sniff the fodder, then raised its head and lowed at Li Er, seeming fairly satisfied.

Li Er patted its head, then turned and returned to the main hall.

In the main hall stood a wooden cot, a low table, several scrolls of blank bamboo slips, and an oil lamp.

In the corner sat a pottery jar; opening it revealed rice inside.

Besides it were several bundles of dried vegetables, a piece of cured meat, and a few eggs.

All of these had been prepared by Zhou Ling Wang's order.

Li Er looked at these things and gave a slight smile.

He rolled up his sleeves and began to light a fire to cook.

He chopped vegetables, added rice, stir-fried meat, and boiled soup.

His movements were not very skilled, but they looked the part.

Over the years in Qu Ren Li, he had often helped Li Shi with work, so he had long known how to do these things.

Not long after, the aroma of the food filled the small courtyard.

Li Er sat at the low table, eating his meal quietly in the dim lamplight.

The day's affairs, he had long since tossed behind his back.

Bo Qing? Liu Wan? Those don't matter.

What matters is that tomorrow he must rise early and go to the Shou Cang Shi to study.

After finishing the meal and washing the bowls, the sky had already grown completely dark.

Li Er lay on the wooden cot, gazing through the window at the sparse starlight outside, thinking that he should rise earlier tomorrow to read more classics.

The writings on those bone slips, the records on those clay tablets, the past events in those bamboo slips—all were waiting for him.

Thinking and thinking, his eyelids gradually grew heavy.

He entered the land of dreams.

The next day.

As dawn just began to break, Li Er got out of bed.

After a quick wash, eating some of the leftover dry rations from last night, he went out and headed toward the Shou Cang Shi.

On Cheng Zhou Street in the early morning, there were already quite a few pedestrians.

Stalls selling breakfast steamed with heat, peddlers carrying loads shouted as they passed, and a few officials in uniform hurried along.

Li Er blended into the crowd, walking at a leisurely pace, and soon arrived at the gate of the Shou Cang Shi.

Then he stopped.

At the gate of the Shou Cang Shi, several people stood there.

Several historiographers he recognized were those he had seen yesterday.

But at this moment they were not standing in the middle; they stood to the side, slightly bowing their bodies, with respectful demeanor.

Among them, a person sat.

He was a middle-aged man, about forty, with a gaunt face and a long beard.

He wore a set of dark gray deep-colored robes; the fabric was not luxurious, but the cut was proper, clean and neat.

Seated beside a low table that had been moved from somewhere, he held a bamboo slip in his hands, reading it with his head lowered.

These were precisely the translation drafts Li Er had left behind yesterday.

He read them very seriously, his brow sometimes furrowing, sometimes relaxing, occasionally nodding as if savoring some fine brew.

Those few historiographers stood to one side, glancing at each other, none daring to speak and disturb him.

Until someone caught sight of Li Er approaching, then they hurriedly whispered a reminder:

"Mr. Shang, Bo Yang has arrived."

The middle-aged man called Mr. Shang lifted his gaze, his eyes falling on Li Er.

He examined Li Er from head to toe.

From head to foot, from eyebrows to garments, he looked carefully, yet without giving offense.

In his eyes there was no scrutiny, no criticism, only pure appreciation.

It was as if he were beholding a rare treasure.

"Is this young friend Li Er?" he spoke, his voice gentle, with a hint of a smile.

Li Er nodded.

"Yes. May I dare ask, sir, who are you?"

That middle-aged man rose to his feet and bowed his hands toward him.

"I am Shang Rong, the old man."

Shang Rong.

Li Er was slightly startled.

He had heard that name before.

Shang Rong, a well-known scholar of Qiguo, was said to be versed in astronomy and geography.

How could he be here?

Shang Rong seemed to see his doubt and smiled as he explained:

"I came here yesterday to talk with an old friend, and I heard that the archive has a new young clerk who, despite his youth, can translate the Xia‑Shang ancient script clearly and smoothly."

"Curious, I came over to take a look."

He raised the bamboo slip in his hand.

"One look, and I couldn't put it down."

Li Er glanced at the bamboo slips, then at Shang Rong, and said nothing.

Shang Rong looked at him, the appreciation in his eyes growing stronger.

"Young friend, I have a question for you."

"Please, sir, speak."

Shang Rong looked at him and asked seriously:

"Would you be willing to take me as your teacher, young friend?"

Li Er froze for a moment.

"Take you as teacher?"

He fell silent for an instant, then spoke:

"What can you teach me?"

Shang Rong laughed upon hearing that.

"All right, follow me."

He turned and walked into the archive.

Li Er paused, then stepped forward to follow.

The several clerks stood where they were, looking at each other.

"This..."

"Is Mr. Shang going to take him as a disciple?"

"What virtue or ability does he have..."

"Shh, keep it down!"

"Exactly, if Bo Yang lacks virtue and talent, what do you have?"

"What nonsense are you saying..."

At the archive's doorway, the several clerks were still whispering.

Suddenly, someone whispered:

"They're out, they're out!"

Everyone hurriedly looked up.

Shang Rong walked ahead, his steps calm, a smile on his face.

Behind him, Li Er followed, half a step behind, his posture respectful.

Upon reaching the doorway, Li Er stopped, bowed again to Shang Rong.

"Please take your leave, sir."

Shang Rong turned his head, looked at him, and said with a smile:

"Come early tomorrow."

Li Er nodded.

"Yes."

Shang Rong smiled, turned, and left.

His back disappeared into the morning light.

The several clerks stared blankly at the scene, then at Li Er, not knowing what to say for a moment.

Li Er paid them no heed.

He simply turned and walked into the archive.

His steps were light.

A faint smile graced his face.

This only made the several clerks more curious.

"What did Mr. Shang teach Bo Yang?"

"You ask me, I ask who?"

"I suppose it must be something extraordinary, knowledge we cannot hear; alas, we lack the fortune to obtain it..."

"Alright, get back to work."