Chapter 573: The One Who Understands the Times

"The message has been delivered, then I shall take my leave."

The young man bowed slightly, turned, and left.

Bo Qing stood where he was, watching the figure disappear into the night, his expression shifting unpredictably.

"Slow… slow departure."

He muttered those words, unsure whether the young man heard them.

The night wind brushed past Nuan ge, bringing a hint of chill.

Bo Qing stood at the doorway, his sweat blown by the wind, cold enough to make him shiver.

He gazed at the pitch‑black night outside, then looked toward that direction—first Yao Xian, then people from Shang Rong, arriving one after another.

What exactly is Li Er's background?

First, the world's foremost shaman Yao Xian personally intervened, claiming he was his brother.

Now it is Shang Rong, the renowned scholar whose fame is such that even the Son of Heaven must defer to him, sending a messenger with a message.

How could a Keeper of the Repository Chamber and a country boy from Chen State rouse these two?

Bo Qing racked his brain but could not understand.

But he understood one thing—

From now on, he must stay far away from Li Er.

No, not merely far away.

Tomorrow he will go to make amends.

In person.

Bring generous gifts!

Whether Li Er accepts or not, this attitude must be shown!

He thought, lowered his head and looked at his drenched clothes.

The sweat had soaked his brocade robe through, clinging cold and sticky, unbearably uncomfortable.

"Servants!" he shouted toward the doorway, "Servants! I need to change clothes!"

A few attendants hurried in; seeing his disheveled state, they dared not ask further and rushed to attend to him.

In the night, the young man hurried through the alleys, returning to Shang Rong's residence.

It was a modest yet elegant courtyard house.

The main hall still had a lamp lit, its dim yellow light spilling through the lattice windows, casting shadows on the floor.

The young man pushed the door and entered.

Shang Rong sat at the desk, holding a roll of Bamboo Slip in his hand.

They were the documents Li Er had newly translated, the ink still fresh, the characters elegant and tidy.

He watched intently, nodding occasionally, sometimes furrowing his brow, as if savoring something.

The young man walked to him and bowed in salute.

"Sir, the message has been delivered."

Shang Rong lifted his head and gave him a glance.

"Hmm." He nodded, then lowered his head again to continue studying the Bamboo Slip, "Proceed."

The young man replied "Yes," turned and stepped back out.

The room door closed softly.

Shang Rong's gaze returned to the Bamboo Slip, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

This disciple is worth taking, truly worth taking.

Both teacher and friend.

The next day.

In front of Li Er's residence, Bo Qing arrived early.

Today he wore a plain, clean outfit, without jade ornaments or finery, and two attendants followed him, carrying a chest.

No one knew what was inside the chest, but judging by its weight, it couldn't be light.

Bo Qing stood at the doorway, took a deep breath, and raised his hand to knock.

It was Li Er who opened the door.

He saw Bo Qing, his brows slightly raised, yet he said nothing.

Bo Qing forced a smile, more sincere than the one he gave Yao Xian last night.

"Bo Yang," he clasped his hands and said, "I have offended you many times recently; I have come specially to make amends."

Li Er looked at him, then glanced at the chest behind him.

"Your apology I accept; there is no need for a gift."

Bo Qing hurriedly replied, "Bo Yang, your magnanimity moves me, I am grateful in my heart."

"This modest offering, I hope Bo Yang will accept, as a token of my sincerity."

Li Er shook his head.

"No need," he repeated, "let this matter be closed, please return."

Having said so, he turned back into the house and closed the door.

Bo Qing stood at the doorway, his smile freezing for a moment.

He looked back at the chest, then at the tightly shut door, and sighed.

"Let's go," he said to the attendants.

The two attendants lifted the chest and followed him out.

Along the way, Bo Qing felt a mix of emotions.

He refuses gifts, bears no grudges, and won't even say an extra word.

This person... is just like water, able to contain anything!

He shook his head.

Forget it, I'll just avoid him from now on.

After he left.

Li Er then came out.

Today he intends to visit Shang Rong.

Shang Rong's residence.

As Li Er pushed the door open and entered, he immediately saw Shang Rong.

Shang Rong was sitting in the seat Li Er had occupied yesterday, holding a Bamboo Slip—those very documents he had just translated.

Besides, several more volumes lay nearby, showing he had been reading for a while.

Seeing Li Er enter, Shang Rong raised his head and smiled at him.

"You've come?"

Li Er stepped forward, bowed, and said, "Mr. Shang."

Shang Rong set down the Bamboo Slip, looked at him, his eyes holding a hint of a smile.

"That Bo Qing won't bother you anymore."

Li Er blinked in surprise.

He recalled Bo Qing's apology this morning, then glanced at Shang Rong, and suddenly understood.

It was his doing.

He immediately bowed.

"Thank you, Mr. Shang."

Shang Rong waved a hand.

"No need," he said. "Since you have taken me as your teacher, I will fulfill my duty as a teacher."

He paused, then continued:

"In five days, I will return to Qiguo."

"Will you go with me?"

Li Er thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"I, the disciple, will not go; there are still many texts in the Shou Cang Shi, and I wish to stay and read more."

Shang Rong nodded, without insisting.

"Very well," he said. "Come with me to the Shou Cang Shi."

"Yes."

Li Er rose, followed Shang Rong out of the residence, and headed toward the Shou Cang Shi.

Until they arrived at the Shou Cang Shi.

Under the gaze of the historians, the two passed rows of shelves and arrived at the door of the Quiet Chamber where they had communicated yesterday.

Shang Rong pushed the door open and entered.

Li Er followed him inside, and the door closed softly behind him.

In the Shou Cang Shi, the several historians looked at the closed door, exchanging glances.

"Mr. Shang has brought Bo Yang in again?"

"What kind of brain does Bo Yang have? I've stared at something for twenty years without understanding it, yet he grasps it at a glance."

"People simply can't be compared."

"Ah, never mind—get back to work."

They shook their heads, went their separate ways, and continued burying themselves in their respective texts.

Inside the Quiet Chamber, Shang Rong was already seated at the desk.

He pointed to the opposite seat, indicating Li Er should sit as well.

Li Er did as he was told and sat down.

Shang Rong picked up a Bamboo Slip and spread it out before him.

"Regarding the question you asked me yesterday," he said, "I have thought it over repeatedly and gained some new insights."

Li Er's eyes lit up, his gaze falling on that Bamboo Slip.

Shang Rong began to speak.

His voice was not loud, yet each word was clear, profound yet accessible.

From classic meanings to philology, from history to reality, he cited broadly and spoke eloquently.

Li Er listened, entranced, nodding now and then and occasionally asking questions.

One question, one answer; one lecture, one listening.

Time flowed by unnoticed.

Outside the window, the sun gradually rose, then slowly sank westward.