Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 59

Chapter 59: The Snobbish Black Moonlight (8)

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The gazes of the others remained fixed on their direction.

 

In particular, Qi Chaojin’s eyes showed a hint of surprise, along with a trace of confusion.

 

Shui Que’s hand, which was resting on the back of the wheelchair, suddenly warmed, and his mind spun in confusion.

 

“S-Sir…” he quietly greeted the young man in the wheelchair. Shui Que was a bit scared of the teacher, so he almost mumbled the greeting, making it hard for anyone to catch what he had said.

 

He saw that the man looked very young, and he hadn’t expected him to already be a teacher.

 

Not used to being around mentors, Shui Que’s palm began to sweat as he nervously gripped the back of the wheelchair, almost rubbing it to a burning point.

 

Nie Xiuyuan didn’t seem to have any intention of making things difficult for him. His demeanor was as cold and indifferent as ever, a stark contrast to the others around him.

 

His tone remained even and without fluctuation. “Please take a seat in the lecture hall, even if you’re just auditing.”

 

Shui Que, who had been feeling awkward, immediately felt a weight lifted off his shoulders after hearing that, almost as though he’d been pardoned.

 

Behind Qi Chaojin, there was a desk and a bamboo mat, both of which were unoccupied.

 

Shui Que rushed to sit down behind him, like a bird returning to its nest. As he passed by, he handed Qi Chaojin his oiled paper umbrella, showing no intention of hiding their relationship.

 

Cui Shixin raised an eyebrow but Shui Que didn’t notice him at all as he sat down directly on the mat.

 

Cui Shixin: ” …”

 

Why was he only noticing Qi Chaojin?

 

Was Qi Er’s appearance that outstanding?

 

Just yesterday, he had sent someone to Qi’s household to deliver shoes to Shui Que. Now he didn’t even recognize the person?

 

Nie Xiuyuan pushed his wooden wheelchair leisurely to the podium, and the hall fell into complete silence.

 

He didn’t speak, but when he did begin speaking at length, Shui Que started to feel sleepy.

 

A typical class in the academy lasted an hour, during which they discussed Confucian classics, the works of Kong and Meng, and strategies from ancient times. Shui Que had only studied up to the third year of high school in the first world, and he could barely recognize a few famous phrases from the Analects. When Qi Chaojin turned to give him his book, Shui Que opened it, but most of the characters were unfamiliar. He could only try to guess the meaning based on modern Chinese characters.

 

Outside, the rain grew heavier, and the sound of raindrops hitting the banana leaves by the window echoed loudly.

 

The air felt cool with the autumn rain.

 

The teacher’s explanation, combined with the rain hitting the banana leaves, became a soothing white noise, almost like a lullaby.

 

It was the sleepiness of autumn, and Shui Que struggled to keep his eyes open.

 

He nodded, his head drooping little by little.

 

His forehead was about to hit the desk when a large hand subtly propped it up.

 

Then, another hand, adorned with a jade ring, grabbed the collar of Shui Que’s robe from behind and gently tugged, pulling him back.

 

Qi Chaojin, half-turned toward him, kept his hand on the desk, silently staring at Cui Shixin, who was the one holding Shui Que’s collar.

 

Shui Que was jolted awake by the tug. He raised his head, feeling the tension in his collar ease.

 

His round eyes darted left and right.

 

…Why was everyone staring at him?

 

All 21 pairs of eyes in the classroom were fixed on him.

 

The sound of a ruler tapping the desk echoed in the room.

 

Shui Que raised his eyes and found himself locking gazes with those dark, indifferent eyes.

 

Nie Xiuyuan looked at him, his voice icy cold, “Jin Wu defeated Wu with autocracy, but Fu Jian lost to Jin with autocracy; Qi Huan was able to dominate by relying on Guan Zhong, but Yan Chao failed by relying on Zhi Zhi. Why were the actions the same, but the outcomes different?”

 

He had been caught dozing off during class.

 

Seeing the ruler on the desk, Shui Que immediately shrank back, hesitating before standing up. He stammered, “I… I don’t know…”

 

He only recognized Qi Huan and Guan Zhong, but the rest of the names were unfamiliar to him.

 

Nie Xiuyuan switched to a few more leading questions, trying to guide him along.

 

The young master, who wasn’t paying attention to his studies at all, had a naturally good appearance, with his round eyes slightly drooping. No matter what question was asked, he first listened carefully, thought for a moment, and then replied softly, “Sir… I don’t know…”

 

…It really was difficult for him.

 

Nie Xiuyuan remained silent for a moment before allowing him to sit down.

 

The academy didn’t have a custom of punishing students; the ruler was only used for intimidation.

 

A bell rang outside, signaling the end of the class.

 

Nie Xiuyuan pushed his wooden wheelchair out of the hall.

 

Cui Shixin patted Shui Que’s collar, which had been wrinkled from the earlier tug.

 

Shui Que complained, “Why did you pull me just now? I almost strangled myself.”

 

Cui Shixin, who had never seen Shui Que retaliate like that, was taken aback. “If I hadn’t grabbed your collar, you would’ve hit the desk with a loud thud!”

 

“…” Shui Que paused for a moment before slowly saying, “That wouldn’t have happened. Qi Lang would have used his hand to cushion me.”

 

When he opened his eyes, he clearly saw Qi Chaojin’s hand facing up, resting on the desk, clearly there to prevent him from hitting it.

 

Cui Shixin frowned, looking somewhat fierce. “Qi Lang, Qi Lang, all day long it’s about Qi Lang, Qi Lang. You don’t study at all and keep your mind on Qi Er. No wonder you’re a little illiterate!”

 

Cui Shixin was especially annoyed by people praising Qi Er so much.

 

Shui Que shrank his neck and quickly ran over to sit beside Qi Chaojin, leaning against him. He said to Cui Shixin, somewhat uncomfortably, “If I’m illiterate, then I’m illiterate… I don’t need to take exams for fame, Qi Lang will support me!”

 

He might be illiterate in this world, but it couldn’t be helped; he hadn’t studied when he first arrived, and he wasn’t a scholar of ancient literature. Not understanding things was normal.

 

Qi Chaojin gently patted his hand and replied softly, “Mm.”

 

The two of them looked like they were in perfect harmony.

 

Their classmates had never seen Cui Shixin this upset.

 

Even when he ranked behind Qi Er in the academy exams, he had never reacted like this.

 

But the Xiao Langjun, confidently saying that Qi Er would support him, didn’t seem at all unpleasant, especially as he leaned against Qi Er’s shoulder, his small face pressing against it and puffing up a bit of his cheek.

 

The classmates found themselves inexplicably flushed, as though they were the ones being leaned on. The sweet, rich scent seemed to linger in their noses, and even their sleeves smelled like it.

 

It was strange—weren’t they just distant cousins? How could their relationship be so close?

 

It was just hearsay, but people started to wonder if the two of them had an unusually close bond.

 

Those who were more familiar with Cui Shixin and could sense the tension between him and Shui Que, saw the way they interacted and quickly realized something was off.

 

Cui Shixin glared at them harder.

 

His expression was so fierce, yet the plot was moving forward.

 

Shui Que was puzzled. Could it be that Cui Shixin’s angry gaze counted as some kind of flirtation?

 

The range for this kind of thing seemed a bit too wide.

 

Was he just supposed to boost the plot?

 

Qi Chaojin said, “After lunch, I’ll go to the supervision office to pay the tuition fees and pick up a new set of books for you.”

 

He himself used old books that he bought from others, which had been flipped so many times the binding was broken. It wouldn’t be suitable for Shui Que to use.

 

Shui Que responded, “Mm-mm.”

 

Though he didn’t really understand most of it.

 

Qi Chaojin didn’t ask him why he had come to the academy.

 

Deng Cang hesitated for a moment, then walked forward, holding a wooden, lacquered, carved food box. He opened the lid, and a puff of steam rose from it.

 

Despite his tall and delicate appearance, he had a strong sweet tooth. His classmates knew that his mother made him bring a box of pastries to share with everyone every day.

 

Sure enough, the food box was filled with soft date cakes, flower-filled rice cakes, and other treats.

 

Deng Cang, a bit embarrassed, said to Shui Que, “Do you feel hungry before the next class? If you don’t mind, you can try my mother’s cooking…”

 

His mother liked to make a variety of pastries, and the box was always filled to the brim. He still needed to eat regular meals, so he usually shared these treats with his classmates to avoid wasting them.

 

After Shui Que took a date cake, Deng Cang suddenly realized that there were more people in the hall than just them two.

“Oh, oh, Qi Erlang, Third Young Master Cui, everyone, come, come and eat!”

 

……

 

At noon, Shui Que thought about going to the market to eat with Qi Chaojin.

 

But Qi Chaojin seemed troubled. If Shui Que hadn’t come, he would have gone home to cook, but since Shui Que was auditing the class, he didn’t need to rush back.

 

He had extra time and wanted to copy some books in his study.

 

He took out 100 coins from his sleeve and gave it to Shui Que, telling him to go to the market and eat at a restaurant.

 

100 wen was enough for a decent meal at a street-side restaurant, with wine, meat, and vegetables.

 

Shui Que accepted the money with a hint of regret and said, “Alright then…”

 

In the Darong Dynasty, academies were semi-official institutions. Not only did they receive local government subsidies, but they also owned nearly a hundred hectares of school farmland. The income from leasing this land helped cover educational expenses, allowing even impoverished students to attend by paying just two or three guan of coins per year (2-3000 coins). That fee included meals and lodging, meaning the daily cost of tuition, food, and accommodation could be as low as twenty to thirty coins.

 

Qi Zhaojin usually dined in the academy’s dining hall. There were vegetables and minced meat—basic, but with both greens and protein. Still, it wasn’t as rich or flavorful as the meals at home, and Shui Que probably wouldn’t find it to his taste.

 

Meanwhile, Shui Que was still wandering leisurely through the street, unsure which restaurant to pick.

 

The street snacks looked vibrant, fragrant, and tempting. He hesitated for quite a while, unable to decide.

 

People on the second floor of the restaurant shouted down, “Shui Que!”

 

He looked up. The plaque, with the large characters for “Drum Belly Tower,” hung above, and the window on the second floor was wide open. The young man who had previously scowled at him on the boat now gestured at him and said, “Come up.”

 

Shui Que was led by the waiter to a private room upstairs.

 

It was the same group of people he had met on the boat earlier, along with Cui Shixin. The five of them came from some of the wealthiest families in Xijiang Academy.

 

Of course, as the son of a prestigious family in the capital, Cui Shixin’s family background was incomparable to that of other young men in Changzhou County.

 

“Did Qi Er let you come out alone for a meal?” Cui Shixin raised an eyebrow and asked him.

 

Shui Que blinked and nodded. “Mm.”

 

Cui Shixin’s gaze became more meaningful. “How much did he give you?”

 

The classmates gave disapproving glances.

 

“…” Shui Que, honestly, spread his hand out. “One hundred coins”

 

Cui Shixin seemed satisfied with the answer, as expected.

 

“Come over, let me treat you to a meal.” He gestured playfully, like a little kitten, encouraging Shui Que to sit next to him. He tapped his folding fan on the edge of the table and added, “Qi Er could only give you a hundred coins—how is he going to take care of you?”

 

Shui Que didn’t speak.

 

How nice. He got invited to a meal just by coming upstairs.

 

And saved a hundred coins in the process.

 

Feeling triumphant over Qi Chaojin, Cui Shixin happily lifted the white-glazed pitcher shaped like a gourd and asked, “Want some wine?”

 

He started pouring it into a cup, but Shui Que stopped his hand, shaking his head. “I don’t drink.”

 

He still remembered how he got drunk from a bit of fruit wine in his first world.

 

Although the alcohol content in ancient wines was lower than modern ones, Shui Que wasn’t eager to try it again.

 

Cui Shixin shrugged and set the pitcher down. “I thought you had a drink this morning and were bold enough to push Headmaster Nie’s wheelchair.”

 

In their classroom, Nie Xiuyuan was referred to as Sir because he gave lessons, but outside, he was known as Headmaster Nie. He was the dean of the Xijiang Academy and also the primary instructor, overseeing administrative matters.

 

Shui Que didn’t understand. “Why wouldn’t I dare…?”

 

Deng Cang and the others knew he was new, but they didn’t expect him not to have heard of Nie Xiuyuan.

 

Among them, Wen Xiangzhu was the one who admired Headmaster Nie the most. With a look of admiration, he explained to Shui Que, “Headmaster Nie was the top scholar of the 26th year of Jian Yuan. He was only seventeen at the time and became the youngest top scholar in Darong. By the age of twenty-four, he had already been appointed as the Grand Scholar of the Wen Yuan Pavilion. You could say he shot straight up into the heavens…”

 

At that time, it was the first year of Ping Wu, and back in the 26th year of the Jian Yuan era, the seventeen-year-old top scholar… calculating from there, Headmaster Nie was already in his thirties.

 

Shui Que didn’t drink alcohol, so Cui Shixin poured him a cup of tea. “But what a pity. Members of the imperial family turned on each other, and not long after, Headmaster Nie was secretly harmed by villains—his legs were crippled. Then he was falsely accused of forming factions for personal gain and thrown into prison.”

 

“He hung up his official seal and left five years ago, retreating to Xijiang Academy to devote himself to scholarship.”

 

With Nie Xiuyuan’s experience as a lesson, Cui Da was later promoted to Assistant Minister of Rites. Father Cui, worried that having both sons in court would attract jealousy from those above—and to keep the Cui family away from the treacherous struggle for the throne—resigned on his own and took a small post as a county magistrate in Changzhou.

 

“I see…” Shui Que sipped his tea, finally understanding what had happened to Nie Xiuyuan.

 

Deng Cang explained further, “So not being able to walk is a sore spot for the teacher—something he avoids mentioning. He doesn’t usually let others push his wheelchair.”

 

Had he broken two taboos in one day?

 

Shui Que blinked.

 

First, he’d forced Nie Xiuyuan’s wheelchair. Second, he had dozed off during class…

 

Whichever way he looked at it, he’d been jumping across landmines.

 

Fortunately, Nie Xiuyuan was the headmaster and usually busy, only giving a lecture once every three days.

 

That afternoon, Shui Que had eaten and drunk his fill. The three-flavor bamboo shoot quail dish at the restaurant was especially delicious. It was said the chef’s grand-uncle had once worked in the imperial kitchens, so this dish could be considered fit for royalty.

 

He ate too much and got sleepy. And once sleepy, he couldn’t help but nod off. But the lecturer that day was an old man with white whiskers and dim eyesight, who droned on without paying attention to his students’ states.

 

Xijiang Academy had a schedule of six days on, one day off. The first rest day happened to fall on the seventh day of the seventh month.

 

After keeping up with the academy’s routine for six days, Shui Que finally slept in until noon on the day off.

 

Qi Chaojin had originally wanted to stroll through town with him, but seeing he hadn’t woken up, he went alone to Changzhou County, bought sugar and flour from the grain shop, made syrup, kneaded dough, twisted it into rope-knot shapes, and fried them in oil until crispy—creating traditional Qixi Festival pastries.

 

Halfway through, he also made a bowl of shredded chicken noodles for Shui Que’s lunch.

 

As night fell, Qi Chaojin set up an altar table in the courtyard shui xiao langjunxiao for the Qixi offering and asked Shui Que to deliver a box of the pastries to Aunt Liu’s house.

 

When he’d returned from Changzhou County earlier, Aunt Liu had given him a few pears.

 

The two households often exchanged small gifts, especially around festivals, when it was common to send fruits and snacks.

 

“Mhm, mhm,” Shui Que replied as he carried the food box made of woven bamboo strips and rattan out the door. Aunt Liu’s home wasn’t far—just past a small creek and a cluster of banana trees behind their house.

 

Huzi was playing shuttlecock outside the bamboo gate. Seeing Shui Que approach, he got excited, called out for his mother in the courtyard, and ran toward him.

 

Shui Que patted his head, which was tied up in little braids.

 

Aunt Liu came out at just the right moment, covering her mouth with a laugh. “Oh, Xiao Shui Langjun*, you didn’t need to bring anything. Just visiting is enough!”

Note: Xiao Shui Langjun refer to Shui Que, it’s a causal term, since he’s a langjun and he’s named Shui so he can be called Xiao Shui as term of endearment (Xiao).

 

Shui Que lifted the lid of the food box. “These are Qixi pastries Qi Lang made. Try them.”

 

Aunt Liu took the box and thanked him repeatedly. She went into the kitchen, put the pastries into a bowl, and came back out to return the empty box.

 

Shui Que curiously glanced at her fingernails. “What’s this…?” Her nails were red.

 

“Oh, oh! Since it’s the Qixi Festival, I was just mashing balsam flowers to dye my nails red,” Aunt Liu said with a smile. “I’ll do Huzi’s next. It’s said that if children dye their ring and pinky fingers red and it lasts till the New Year, the elderly who see it will have clearer vision and not grow old and blurry-eyed.”

 

In the southern part of Darong, it was customary to dye one’s nails red during Qixi. Compared to past dynasties, it was a more open practice—men and women both did it, though it was still mostly women.

 

Kids didn’t care about such rules.

 

Seeing Shui Que’s curious stare, Aunt Liu coaxed, “Xiao Langjun Shui, do you want to try too? Come on, come on, I made a lot of balsam paste—it’d be a waste otherwise.”

 

Shui Que just wanted to have a little fun, so Aunt Liu dyed the nails on his ring and pinky fingers.

 

The balsam juice was mixed with a bit of alum, and after the dyeing, she wrapped his fingers with cloth.

 

“All done. The color will set after a night,” Aunt Liu said as she released his hand. “If you want it to be a deeper red and last longer, you’ll need to do it three or four more times.”

 

Shui Que nodded.

 

But he’d only done it for fun, so he didn’t want to dye them again—it would be easier to wash off later.

 

When Qi Chaojin was a child, Mother Qi had done this for him too, so when he saw Shui Que come back with four fingers wrapped in cloth, he didn’t find it odd and didn’t ask.

 

That night, they used fruit offerings in the courtyard to worship the stars Vega and Altair. After dinner, with night falling, they lay half-reclined on a couch in the yard, watching the Milky Way. Qi Chaojin even fanned Shui Que to keep him cool.

Still, there were autumn mosquitoes. Shui Que got bitten on the back of his hand, a red bump rising up. He didn’t want to stay outside anymore and went inside to sleep.

 

…

 

With the new week starting, Shui Que had to follow Qi Chaojin back to the academy.

 

He couldn’t sit still anymore.

 

There was no rule saying audit students had to attend every class.

 

For social auditors, the academy didn’t provide food or housing subsidies, so management was relatively relaxed.

 

As soon as the first morning class ended and Nie Xiuyuan left, Shui Que was ready to sneak away.

 

Qi Chaojin noticed he hadn’t eaten much that morning and knew he planned to skip class, so he handed him thirty coins to buy something to eat outside.

 

With the coins tucked inside his sleeve, Shui Que happily left the academy.

 

He passed through rock gardens and small bridges, stepped out the second gate…

 

Just as he reached the front gate, a fine steed with rain-colored mane and frosty hooves came charging straight at him unexpectedly!

 

The rider didn’t expect anyone to be exiting the academy at that time. He yanked the reins sharply, and the horse let out a series of shrill whinnies.

 

The horse’s raised hooves cast a shadow over Shui Que, frightening him so much that he fell backward onto the ground.

 

Thankfully, he was unharmed. The horse steadied itself just in time and landed safely.

 

The man in dark robes moved quickly and dismounted with a smooth, practiced motion.

 

Shui Que noticed a scar near the corner of his eye.

 

Wei Yan reached out his hand.

 

Still shaken, Shui Que took it to stand up.

 

But the man’s brow lifted, and his expression abruptly changed. “Why is it a girl?”

 

When Wei Yan had dismounted and glanced quickly, he thought this Xiao Langjun looked unusually fair. Now that he felt the small, soft hand—and saw the ring and pinky fingers dyed red—he was taken aback.

 

Men and women shouldn’t casually touch, and Wei Yan was a stubborn man with impulsive actions. As soon as the thought struck him, he retracted his hand.

 

Shui Que had just gotten halfway up with his help.

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Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.

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