Chapter 7 (1/2)

Chapter 7: Fang Hua Beast

After returning from the bamboo forest, my spirits were very low, as if I had ruined some secret. But I couldn’t figure out where I was in the wrong. This sensation was like a fish bone lodged in my throat, giving my entire body an unspeakably uncomfortable feeling. The house was empty and deserted.

Fang Hua hadn’t returned yet…

With a small exhale, I went to the kitchen and soaked some cold rice in water. My head remained bowed as I rolled up my sleeves, docilely preparing my dinner. After eating my fill, my stomach felt even worse and my heart was completely empty. All I wanted was to find some work to do.

We’d long split enough logs for the firewood.

We’d collected enough water, too.

I could only prop up my chin with my hand and s.p.a.ce out in the courtyard.

Fang Hua always had a magnanimous expression when he reproached me, saying I slept too much, or that I was too lazy, or that other people had filial sons while he was stuck raising a self-professed elder.

Actually, even if I got out of bed before dawn to roll up my sleeves and get to work, I’d discover the kitchen fire was already lit, the clean clothes hung up to dry and everything else finished within the house. I knew he wanted to spare me from doing such heavy work. Yifu was a good person, even if he always thought one way and acted another. I wanted to stay with him for the rest of my life.

The sky gradually grew darker.

I tilted my head towards the door, but Fang Hua still wasn’t back.

Some stems of medicinal plants had already ripened, and many flowers had bloomed, but they didn’t smell as fragrant as they usually did. It looked like things here were much lonelier with one less person.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh…

Annoying.

I dragged over a broom and ran towards the study. I kicked open the door and–

–grew blank-faced.

This was what they called a mess. Multiple books were missing from the racks, some fallen to the floor or across the desk, and a big chunk of s.p.a.ce was taken up by papers…

Ah, a rare event.

I couldn’t even tell that yifu could be such a idle and carefree person. Was he trying to compose a poem or paint a picture here? Even though the papers were held in place by an inkstone, the wind outside the window blew against its surfaces, lifting up a few sheets and make them tremble as they rustled.

A brush laid quietly on one side, the ink on its tip half-drying.

I went to take a closer look and saw a completed painting. There were mountains and water, and a distinguished male youth in the middle of playing the qin[1].  A teardrop-shaped mole beneath his eye caught my attention. His red robes made an extremely tasteful scene.

Between the land of cloudy mountains and rivers, a moon hung high in the skies. One could just make out the outline of a figure on the opposite sh.o.r.e of the river. However, there was only a faint sketch of that person’s face, and the easy flowing brush stopped here, unable to continue.

I hesitated for a moment, but was too afraid to touch it. Instead, I collected the scattered books in my arms and gave them a glance, preparing to arrange them all in categories.

In the middle of brus.h.i.+ng my sleeves aside…

A length of tough silken cloth floated out to land on the desk, like water flowing gently as it tumbled towards the ground.

The sudden excitement I felt made me curious. Logically speaking, secrets were hidden in books: if not love poems or popular songs, then secret martial arts manuals. I bent forwards and scooped the cloth up in my hands.