The first time Lu Shi appeared before guests in his capacity as Tang Qiling’s eldest disciple was actually quite shocking.

First, his “advanced age” of twenty-four—still unmarried;

Second, his not-too-detailed, somewhat mysterious past;

Third, his appearance.

Lu Shi’s appearance was unlike that of refined scholars. He was tall and powerfully built, his eyes carrying a touch of wildness, like an untamed stallion.

This quality that usually appeared in military men, when manifested in a scholar, created an extremely strong visual impact on women.

The Tang residence’s inner quarters lacked a mistress. His junior sister shouldered the burden, inviting female guests to watch opera in the garden. The master was somewhat uneasy and commanded him to go help.

Tang Jianxi insisted on coming along.

Only later did he learn this fellow was obsessed with opera and was also an excellent playwright.

Halfway there, young ladies from aristocratic families blocked their path, speaking in subtle and veiled terms.

“Young Master Lu, I’ve lost my hairpin. Could you help me find it?”

“I cannot.”

Then they encountered two more—one claiming to have lost her handkerchief, another saying she felt dizzy. Lu Shi grabbed Tang Jianxi and directly detoured away.

Having spent four years among women, he understood their purpose very well. He also knew that with the slightest response, becoming a prized son-in-law would be inescapable.

After all, he was now Tang Qiling’s student, the Crown Prince’s fellow disciple.

But he was unwilling.

A man’s future should be earned by himself.

Before the stage, his junior sister chatted and laughed with others. Lin Bi bustled about nearby.

Tang Jianxi, seeing him standing motionless, asked, “Senior Brother, aren’t you going over?”

“Not going.”

“Then may I go listen to the opera?”

“Go ahead.”

Lu Shi quietly observed from the shadows for a while. Seeing everything proceeding in an orderly fashion, he was about to leave when he suddenly heard people discussing him.

“Where did that Lu Shi come from? How could Master Tang accept such a person? He doesn’t even greet anyone—are his eyes on top of his head?”

“I heard he used to live in the Tang family’s rear courtyard. By flattering the young miss, he moved to the front courtyard.”

“Look at him—doesn’t seem like any proper scholar.”

“Scholars don’t look like that!”

“Just now when I was strolling the garden, he blocked my path, saying he’d help me find my handkerchief. Clearly no good intentions.”

“Earlier in the garden I felt a bit dizzy, and he reached out to steady me. Doesn’t understand propriety at all.”

“Heavens, we must remind the young miss to be careful.”

“Indeed we must be careful. The Tang family only has this one young miss. If he really manages to… wouldn’t all the family property fall into his hands?”

“No wonder at his age he’s still not married—he’s calculating this wishful scheme.”

“This matter—we must speak to Master Tang about it.”

“Crack!”

A teacup shattered on the ground, startling the young actor on stage so badly he trembled, and the performance abruptly stopped.

“My poor father! Mother has only been gone three years, and you’ve already become both deaf and blind. What are we to do?”

“Young Miss, Master Tang was just fine. You mustn’t speak carelessly.”

“Well, my father wasn’t deaf or blind before—he knew good from bad, could distinguish black from white. So why are you all worrying so unnecessarily?”

Those few people froze—so this young miss had heard their conversation.

“Young Miss, it’s not that we’re gossiping. You’re young, you’ve experienced few things, you see shallowly.”

“Exactly, in all matters you must keep an extra eye out.”

“One knows the face but not the heart!”

The young girl’s chest heaved with anger. “My senior brother is a proper, upright scholar. Don’t speak recklessly.”

“Oh my, Young Miss, could we really be wronging him?”

“You wronged him.”

“One person might be wronged, but what about two?”

“Also wronged.”

“Young Miss, you can’t be so unreasonable.”

“I am exactly this unreasonable.”

She suddenly placed her hands on her hips, flustered and exasperated. “In my own home, why should I be reasonable with you?”

Scholars didn’t know how to quarrel—they could only put on an arrogant front to intimidate people.

Only Lu Shi knew that this girl must be gritting her teeth at this moment, her face flushed red, looking like a shrew ready to fight someone to the death.

An aristocratic lady should speak tactfully. Even when furious inside, her face should remain serene, leaving guests some dignity.

She was worlds apart from a shrew—she shouldn’t be like this.

Even if it was for his sake.

Lu Shi’s heart felt as if it were being drawn into a vortex, sinking down bit by bit, deeper and deeper.

“It was clearly you who asked my master to pick up the handkerchief, and clearly you who ran up to my master claiming dizziness.”

The fellow surnamed Tang sighed with affected gravity. “And I even advised Senior Brother to help them!”

Heaven and earth fell silent.

Lu Shi lowered his brows and turned to leave.

He walked back to his own courtyard in one breath and sat down by the window.

Those women were right—he wasn’t any proper person, just pretending to be proper before the Tang father and daughter.

He’d had base thoughts. At night, lying alone in bed.

At those times, many women he’d slept with would appear in his mind—plump ones, thin ones, delicate ones, seductive ones…

What ultimately remained was always that moonlit night, the girl climbing up from the ground, silently lifting her face.

Whenever this happened, inexplicable shame, humiliation would rise in his heart, and he’d begin to despise, scorn, and loathe himself.

Disdaining his birth, disdaining that woman, and those four years of drunken debauchery.

If I’d been born into an aristocratic family…

If my mother had been educated and proper…

If I were pure in body and mind, open and honest in character…

If I were a few years younger…

Could I then reach out to touch that face?

However, there were no “ifs” in this world.

A person’s background, past, and experiences were like their skin—long fused with bone and blood, unable to be torn off or scraped away. What dreams were there to have?

Laughable, wasn’t it?

Lu Shi drew out the rouge from his robes, rose and walked to the desk, pulled open a drawer and placed it inside.

…

On this day, his junior sister received many birthday gifts.

Chu Yanting sent an authentic work by Emperor Huizong of Song;

Tang Zhen sent a famous painting;

The Crown Prince’s residence sent a coral sculpture half a person’s height;

Marquis Liu’s family sent two bolts of Su embroidery and a white jade bracelet…

Lu Shi felt fortunate he’d locked away that box of rouge.

After a full day of bustle, the Tang residence finally quieted down. He accompanied the master in seeing off the last guest, then went to the stables to read as usual.

He didn’t know why, but even with his own courtyard and desk, he still felt most comfortable reading in the stables.

The stable had a lamp. He thought it was San Pang, but drawing near, he discovered the girl standing there prettily.

Candlelight fell upon her, outlining her form with a gentle contour. Lu Shi’s heart stirred slightly—she was a grown young woman now.

“Senior Brother.”

She extended her hand with a beaming smile. “Where’s my birthday gift?”

“No money to prepare one.”

He walked to the stall and led out Naoren.

“Same as last year—I’ll be your stable hand.”

A laugh emerged from her throat. “I’m a year older, so it should be more rounds than last year, right?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, his voice slightly hoarse. “Dozens of rounds are fine.”

“Help me up.” She extended her hand.

Naoren was no longer a young colt but had grown tall and large. As he helped her mount, he held her hand in his palm.

Her hand was very soft, fingertips somewhat cold.

He waited until she was seated steady, then removed his outer robe, rolled it into a ball, and placed it before her.

“Put your hands inside to warm them.”

“Senior Brother, aren’t you cold?”

“Not cold.”