Chapter 285: Drenched in Heavy Rain, Zhi Xuan Faces Jin Gang Under a Small Umbrella

Su Su wandered outside for a long time before finally gathering the courage to return to a blacksmith shop located in a remote corner of town. It was a two-section rammed-earth courtyard. Though the framework was up, a glance revealed sparse furnishings, giving it a desolate and uncomfortable feeling, suggesting a difficult life for the family, far from affluent. In the front room, by the furnace and bellows, a shirtless middle-aged man with a powerful build and remarkably solid muscles worked. His arms were thicker than a woman’s thigh; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he could run horses on his fists or have people stand on his arms. It was almost a pity he wasn't out on the street smashing rocks on his chest.

The bronzed man was hammering a red-hot iron blank on an anvil. He glanced at Su Su but said nothing, continuing his rhythmic hammering. Su Su, who had helped with odd jobs since childhood, knew the blacksmithing process intimately. He went to the basket, poured some charcoal into the furnace, and then considered going to the back to rest on the bed, to, as the Old Master would say, cultivate his noble spirit. Hearing footsteps he’d known for over twenty years, he quickly tried to slip away. He had just reached the threshold when a sharp voice called out. He stopped obediently, turned around, and offered a foolish, feigned smile. An old man, looking like an impoverished scholar, approached, carrying a carp threaded through the gills with a tree branch. His face was full of anger as he demanded, "Fighting with ruffians like Liu Hong again? Is that what a true gentleman does?! You speak of cultivating yourself, regulating your family, governing the state, and bringing peace to the world, yet if you can't even cultivate yourself, what great deeds can you ever accomplish?"

Su Su muttered under his breath, "I'd rather a gentleman keep far from the kitchen."

The old man was about to glare when the young man playfully darted forward, took the plump, still-flapping carp, and cheerfully declared, "Old man, we happen to have some scallions and garlic at home! I'll make you a braised carp so delicious even Chef Yue Binglou would be ashamed!"

It was better left unsaid. Hearing this, the Old Master immediately surged with anger. "Where did you get scallions and garlic from our vegetable patch?"

Having blurted out the truth, the young man grabbed the carp and ran toward the backyard. The pedantic and rigid Old Master didn't even spare a glance for the blacksmith, following Su Su and lecturing him earnestly. His admonishments were much like the sage's teaching that "a gentleman handles affairs directly, not letting affairs come to him." Su Su had heard them so many times they'd worn him out. With his back to the Old Master, he mouthed the words in sync with the old man. When the Old Master painstakingly instructed, "Young people's temperaments should be restrained, not unrestrained; this cultivates virtue," Su Su, unable to bear it any longer, indignantly retorted, "I say old people's temperaments should be unrestrained, not gloomy; only then can they preserve their health! Old Man Zhao, if you keep nagging, I won't cook!" The Old Master paused, then sighed and shook his head, saying no more. His expression, however, softened considerably. He stroked his beard, evidently quite in agreement with the young man's point about elderly health.

Su Su went into the small, dim kitchen, tossed the carp onto the chopping block, and opened the window. First, he rinsed rice to cook, then skillfully wielded his knife, preparing the red carp that was clearly destined for an early end. The Old Master stood just outside the doorway, his gaze benevolent. Su Su scaled the fish, lifting an arm to brush hair from his forehead, his expression focused. This refined old scholar behind him was the only family Su Su had known since he could remember. That mouth of his had an endless supply of grand principles; he’d been lecturing for over twenty years and still hadn't finished. It was a great waste that he was merely a private tutor in town instead of a sage. Yet, for all these years, this home that barely felt like one had survived on the Old Master's earnings from teaching a dozen children and Uncle Qi's blacksmithing in the front yard; at least they hadn’t starved. Still, it was strange that Uncle Qi hammered away constantly but never seemed to sell any ironware. Su Su disliked reading; a book in his hands quickly led to a nap. He also lacked the patience and perseverance to secretly learn skills like his peers. He knew his limitations: unless a sack of gold and silver fell on his head, his life was doomed to be a miserable one. Whether he'd ever marry a wife was uncertain. He just lived day to day. What else could he do? Join the army? He'd be scared stiff. Engage in profit-driven business? He had no capital, and he lacked the temperament to humble himself and flatter people with fake smiles. Besides, the Old Master would furiously threaten to break his hands and feet.

Su Su sighed, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if I were the 'civet cat for prince' from the storytellers' tales?"

Soon enough, the rice was cooked, and the dish was ready to be served. Su Su grumbled, "Old man, go call Uncle Qi for dinner."

At the dinner table, even though the Old Master often advised against speaking while eating or sleeping, Su Su was growing up, and the Old Master was indeed "old." After enduring constant criticism, the young man no longer took it to heart. Mumbling while eating, he said, "Uncle Qi, why don't you go to the Yayanjiao market to solicit business? A good wine fears a deep alley. You're wasting your excellent craftsmanship."

The Old Master couldn't help but break his rule. "Selling one's skills to common vendors and porters – what kind of decorum is that?!"

Su Su squinted at the dull-witted man and the stern-faced Old Master, then said helplessly, "What's wrong with common vendors and porters? Aren't they human? Do they have one less eye or two fewer legs than emperors and generals? Didn't they all come from their mothers' wombs?"

The Old Master slammed the table. "Absurd!"

The old man had been carefully chewing his rice, but this stern rebuke caused a few grains to spray onto the table. Su Su pointed them out with his chopsticks. The Old Master's face flushed slightly, and he picked the rice grains back into his bowl, one by one.

Su Su retorted stubbornly, feeling a little wronged, "Old man, you yourself said a virtuous person doesn't force others but merely stirs up a bit of natural kindness, and it's fine to praise people with kind words. But in all these years, when have you ever said a single good word about me? If I turn out to be a failure in this life, it'll be because you constantly scolded me into it."

For once, the old man didn't speak, not even a single rebuttal. He just slowly chewed the rice, which was not a common dish for ordinary families in Juzi Prefecture.

After dinner and washing the dishes, the Old Master sat on a small stool near a few pots of orchids in the courtyard. He tilted his head, squinting to read his scriptures in the fading light. Oil lamps consumed oil, so he used them as little as possible. Su Su went to the front blacksmith shop, helping Uncle Qi tend the furnace's heat. Ironware was strictly regulated in Northern Mang. Wasting heat meant wasting large amounts of iron, which this family could not afford. Although Su Su was carefree and lacked ambition, he was never careless about this crucial matter that affected their livelihood. Ultimately, the Old Master's teachings, copied from who-knows-what book, never quite resonated with a person who grew up in a border town. They were far less impactful than gazing at finely dressed, spirited riders or beautifully adorned women. The burly man remained as silent as ever, only occasionally casting a look at the young man that conveyed unspoken warmth.

As dusk deepened, reading became harder. The Old Master almost pressed his eyes to the yellowed book; it was truly blurry. He gently closed the book, placed it on his lap, looked up at the sky, and slowly said, "A gentleman, when compelled by circumstances, may inevitably deceive others. But he must never deceive himself. To deceive one's heart is to deceive Heaven. If your conscience is clear, you need not beg fortune from the heavens."

The old man suddenly said mournfully, "I, however, wish to beg fortune from the heavens."

Clenching the book in his hands, the old man hoarsely said, "One must retain some reserve of spirit in life. To speak one's mind completely, to exhaust all intentions – such a person is destined for an unfortunate life. Is it truly only an unfortunate life?!"