After taking his pulse, Muruo withdrew his hand from Master Yu’s wrist.
“Master’s body doesn’t have any major problems. After all, you’ve reached a certain age, and standing for long periods naturally feels taxing, so your body is somewhat weakened. However, Master’s constitution is still quite robust. As long as you rest well and nourish your body, you’ll be fine.”
“Thank you, Young Master Muruo,” Master Yu said.
“You’re too kind. I’ll write another prescription. Later, have the young attendants at the academy fetch the medicine and take it on schedule.”
Master Yu nodded.
Muruo took out paper and ink, lifted his brush to write the prescription, but then heard a heavy sigh from across the table.
He raised his head and looked at Master Yu’s face, full of wrinkles and discomfort, immediately understanding what weighed on his mind.
He set down the brush in his hand and said, “I presume Master is feeling troubled over the matter of Guo He?”
“Mm.” Master Yu nodded, then let out another long sigh. His white eyebrows furrowed tightly, revealing several traces of guilt as he said, “Originally, I thought that child had simply left a year ago. At least he was still alive. How could I have known that fate would play such tricks—he actually died, and died right here in the academy. For an entire year, no one noticed. Although he was unruly and stubborn, in the end, he was still my student. Moreover, he grew up by my side since childhood. His nature wasn’t bad. For his death, I too bear responsibility.”
Muruo consoled him, “Master, please don’t say such things. This matter has nothing to do with you. Whether it’s the natural course of birth, aging, illness, and death, or unexpected disasters, everything is determined by fate. Guo He’s death was probably his destiny. Besides, who could have predicted it? Why must you blame yourself, sir?”
“Although what you say is correct, after all, being a teacher for even one day makes one a father for life.”
He let out a long sigh.
His small, narrowed eyes brimmed with tears.
Guo He was an orphan. Back then, he had been abandoned at the academy’s entrance. That day happened to be during the depths of winter, the coldest month. Master Yu, unable to bear it, took him in at the academy and raised him as half his own child. Guo He was very intelligent—from childhood, he was a person of exceptional talent. When it came to reading, he had a photographic memory. His scholarship improved day by day, to the point where sometimes even Master Yu himself couldn’t match him by three parts. But precisely because he spent years at the academy, with his life, behavior, and studies all under strict supervision, accumulated over time, this formed his rebellious nature. Gradually, he became extremely unruly, often joining forces with those students to turn the academy into complete chaos.
In earlier years, several teachers invited to the academy were driven away one by one by Guo He’s antics. He even once drank alcohol in the library pavilion, knocking over a candle that nearly burned the entire collection of books to nothing. The result was that Master Yu was often angered into illness for several days at a time. Despite Master Yu’s repeated attempts at guidance, he still couldn’t pull him back. Guo He seemed determined as an iron weight to oppose the entire academy.
Finally, he left a note and ran away.
Now, he was dead in the well!
Thinking of this, Master Yu’s body sagged. He shook his head and sighed, raising his hand to wipe away old tears.
At this moment, Tang Si, who had been sitting on the other side nursing her grievances, suddenly coldly threw out a remark.
She snorted disdainfully and said, “The person’s already dead—what’s there to be sad about? Don’t you Central Plains people always say that when someone dies, you should restrain your grief and accept the inevitable? Moreover, this person has been dead for a year already, and you’re still dwelling on it. I say you scholarly types only know how to talk, talk, talk. Your greatest skill is lip service, but when it comes to actually doing something, not one of you can manage it. We wanderers of the jianghu who practice martial arts are much more carefree. We don’t let emotions rule us. When someone dies, they die. Eighteen years later, they’ll be a fine fellow again.”
She lifted her chin, extremely cavalier!
From the bottom of her heart, she looked down on those pretentious scholarly types, so whenever she caught an opportunity, she had to jab at them—it also served to vent her current displeasure.
Master Yu glanced at her. Setting aside what she’d just said, just looking at her careless sitting posture made his head ache. He uttered a phrase: “A woman’s appearance reflects her heart; without virtue, there is loss.”
I ptui!
“Old man, what are you saying?”
She stood up abruptly, looking like she was ready to demand an explanation.
Although she couldn’t understand those words, she knew he was cursing at her, so she should curse back. No mistake about that.
“Don’t be rude.” Muruo sternly reprimanded her. “Master Yu is a sage teacher. How can you, a little girl, speak so disrespectfully? If you continue speaking without restraint, I’ll throw you into that well.”
“You dare.”
“You can try and see.”
“You…” Tang Si was at a loss. She knew she was no match for him, and with Shi Ziran still guarding outside, if she really stirred up trouble, she’d probably be flayed alive.
She could only swallow this anger!
She sat back in her original spot.
Master Yu shook his head. He was truly at a loss for words with such an uncouth girl and simply chose to ignore her. Supporting himself on the low table, he rose and silently went to his inner room for a moment. When he came out, he held a yellowed letter in his hands.
He extracted the paper that had been pressed completely flat inside and unfolded it bit by bit.
On it were written just a few lines of elegant, neat handwriting.
Master Yu’s hands trembled. Looking at that familiar script, his brows locked tightly, and tears once again swirled in his eyes.
While speaking, he said, “This is the letter he left behind when he departed. Over this past year, I’ve read it dozens of times, thinking that one day he would return. Never did I imagine that after waiting a year, I would only receive a corpse.”
Muruo was curious. “May I see this letter?”
Master Yu was quite “generous” and handed over the letter.
Taking the letter, Muruo looked at the few lines written on it.
—The grace of teaching cannot be repaid. My heart does not return to the dove’s nest; I hope to fly back to native soil. I take my leave of your kindness.
Indeed, calling Guo He a talent of the academy was not wrong at all. Even his departure letter was written with such literary grace, leaving no room for rebuttal between the lines.
Tang Si was a curious baby. Putting aside the earlier matter, she actually hurried over, her face full of gossip.
“What does it say? Let me see.”
“You wouldn’t understand!”
Muruo directly replied to her.
“How can I not understand? Aren’t they just a few characters? Who doesn’t recognize them?” She snorted again with her mouth. “As if I care to look.”
At this moment, Lin Shu’s voice suddenly came from outside the door.
“Teacher!”
That voice sounded extremely miserable.
One could tell immediately that the boy had come to lodge a complaint.
He stepped through the door, but didn’t forget propriety. He clasped his hands together and bowed to Master Yu, then prostrated himself at Master Yu’s feet.
One hand rested on the low table, the other on the ground.
He complained, “Teacher, this time, no matter what, you must seek justice for your student.”
Master Yu was puzzled.
“What’s happened to you? What occurred? Why is your complexion so pale?”
“It’s them.” He extended his hand, pointing directly at Muruo and Tang Si. “Yesterday, they beat me, which was bad enough, but then they caused me to be bitten by a snake. Just now, they even came to my room and nearly killed me.”
Having said this, he rolled up his sleeve, revealing the wound on his arm.
The clothing was stained with blood.
Fortunately, the bleeding had already stopped.