Chapter 28: Xingzhi Temple (19)
As soon as those words were spoken, the two of them immediately understood each other’s intentions. Even though Xiao Fu couldn’t see his eyes, he could hear the sincerity in his voice.
When Lin Zikui thought about things, his first instinct was always to figure out how to resolve them—not to refuse, delay, or break a promise.
The Second Young Miss had said such things—perhaps Third Master had also examined his illness and found some hidden ailment.
Maybe it could be cured in the future. Or maybe he would adopt an abandoned child and raise it as his own—Lin Zikui could accept that too.
Sometimes, Xiao Fu also wanted to tell him the whole truth. But the situation was far too complex to explain in just a few words, and definitely not something that could be easily accepted in one go.
So he chose to reveal a little at a time, proceeding slowly and carefully, until Lin Zikui’s boundaries gradually lowered—lower and lower—until, eventually, it wouldn’t matter who he really was, whether man or woman, human or demon.
There was a kind of unspoiled integrity in Lin Zikui—something found only in the most sincere scholars. He hadn’t yet entered officialdom, hadn’t been polished by the system, hadn’t been tainted by the murky world. He was a piece of pure, uncut jade.
Xiao Fu hoped he could always remain this way. Even if he someday became an official at court, he would still hold fast to his principles.
So when Yuanqing mentioned that Emperor Wen Tai had granted permission for Prime Minister Xue to retire and return to his hometown, Xiao Fu’s first reaction was: “He’s left the city? He’s only sixty-four—too young to be retiring and going home. Bring Prime Minister Xue to Xingzhi Temple. Just say I have an important matter to discuss with him.”
Right now, Lin Zikui believed the imperial examination path had come to a dead end, his future bleak—this was precisely the time he needed encouragement and inspiration.
When Prime Minister Xue left the capital, he brought only a qin and a crane, two simple carriages, and one elderly servant. Riding in the rear carriage were his wife and his fifteen-year-old granddaughter. The rest of his family had returned to their hometown a month earlier.
Now, stripped of his first-rank robes, the once-serving Prime Minister looked no different from an old cowherd by the roadside.
The Brocade Uniform Guard sent by the emperor to stop him hadn’t yet caught up when Yuanqing intercepted him first.
The elderly servant called out loudly, “Who’s ahead? Why block the road?”
Prime Minister Xue, wearing the Ai Dai he had recently recovered, was sitting inside the carriage, eyes lowered as he read a book. Hearing the shout, he assumed they had run into bandits, and lifted the curtain to take a look.
His eyesight had declined significantly, and his face was lined with age. Only when someone came close could he barely recognize them.
“Prime Minister Xue, I am Chen Yuanqing, commanding general stationed within the pass.”
“General Chen?” Prime Minister Xue recognized him—they had met years ago.
“So Prime Minister Xue still remembers me,” Yuanqing said with a smile. “My lord, the Marquis, is at Xingzhi Temple. Upon hearing that Prime Minister Xue was retiring to the countryside, he specially invited you for a farewell drink.”
“Your Marquis,” Prime Minister Xue pushed his Ai Dai up, “is Marquis Dingbei, Xiao Fu?”
“The very same.” Yuanqing took the reins of the horse himself. “I will escort Prime Minister Xue to Xingzhi Temple. Your wife and family may join as well.”
Prime Minister Xue suspected this likely wasn’t just a simple farewell drink—Xiao Fu wasn’t the kind of man to invite someone for drinks without a good reason. What exactly was he planning…
Inside Xingzhi Temple, Lin Zikui hadn’t seen Taoist Lingbo for several days, so he asked Mo Liu to escort him to the Qingxin Pavilion. There, he happened to run into Taoist Ze Wu once again.
This Taoist only visited the Qingxin Pavilion occasionally. Because Lin Zikui came every day, he often ran into him. Sometimes they played chess, sometimes they discussed history and philosophy. Their long talks always gave Lin Zikui much insight.
He genuinely enjoyed talking with Taoist Ze Wu, and couldn’t help but sigh during this visit, “Your knowledge and insight far surpass those fame-seeking flatterers in the imperial court, yet you’re content to live among the mountains and valleys, burning incense and sweeping floors. I didn’t quite understand it before, but now I finally see why some choose a life of seclusion.”
Taoist Ze Wu raised his eyes and looked at him. “Benefactor, did something happen during your trip to Jinling that brought you such understanding?”
Lin Zikui wasn’t the sort to wallow in self-pity. He didn’t mention being wronged by villains or how corrupt the examination system was. He only sighed softly and said, “The world is engulfed in waves, but who can turn the tide?”
While Lin Zikui was chatting casually with Taoist Ze Wu, Jinzun was crouching in a tree near the Qingxin Pavilion, secretly observing. But he was spotted by one of the Taoist’s guards and promptly chased away.
Left with no choice, Jinzun returned to the East Guest Hall, perched on the wall, and reported to Xiao Fu, “Marquis, the scholar is talking with the old Taoist. I got spotted by the expert by his side and got driven off.”
“Jinzun.” Xiao Fu raised his hand and beckoned him over, then gave him a piece of candy. “That old Taoist hates people eavesdropping on his conversations. So, Jinzun, just watch Scholar Lin from afar. Keep a close eye on his safety. Don’t let anyone hurt him.”
Jinzun took the candy and gave a small “Oh,” before heading back to a nearby tree by the Qingxin Pavilion.
The old Taoist’s bodyguard was highly skilled. Jinzun had wanted to spar, but the guard, seeming to recognize him as someone from Marquis Dingbei’s side, didn’t engage. With just a few swift moves, he drove him away.
Jinzun felt frustrated, crouched in the tree like a monkey, eyes fixed on the scene behind the lattice window—two people sitting across from each other. One was the elegant, blindfolded scholar, refined and radiant like a clear sky after rain. The other was the thin, seemingly aged Taoist opposite him.
Inside the East Guest Hall, Yuanwu said, “Marquis, we’ve been here so long and haven’t even seen the retired emperor. Only Young Master Lin seems to have any friendly rapport. Perhaps… we could ask Young Master Lin to inquire? Maybe he could find out where the Tiger Tally is…”
Xiao Fu shot him a glance, and Yuanwu immediately fell silent. “Forgive me, Marquis. I misspoke.”
Xiao Fu said, “The old Taoist likes Zikui because Zikui is well-read, knowledgeable, and full of potential. Their friendship is a bond across generations—not one based on manipulation or scheming. The purer that relationship remains, the better. We must never use him.”
“Yes, Marquis, I understand…” Yuanwu silently marveled—his lord had liked Young Master Lin for so long, and not once had he grown tired of him.
“Tomorrow is the New Year Festival. Make a donation to the temple for incense, prepare offerings for the Taoists, and cook a bit more tonight. We’ll share a reunion meal together.”
Yuanwu responded affirmatively. Then Xiao Fu asked him, “Why did it take you so long to investigate the civil service exam case this time?”
Yuanwu replied, “I visited both the Ministry of Rites and Shuntian Prefecture to investigate. I found out that quite a few student scholars went missing three years ago, but the Shuntian Prefecture shelved the cases. Back then, Young Master Lin’s classmate was arrested by the prefecture and died in prison. The Xu faction tried to recruit Young Master Lin, but he refused. He even intended to submit a petition directly to the emperor… That’s how he ended up being harmed—his eyes injured, failed the metropolitan exam, and returned home in disheartenment. I also went to Tang Mengyang’s residence and found some letters in his study. They mentioned those events as well. Most of them were sent by Young Master Lin. Over the past three years, there were seventy to eighty letters. To piece together the full correspondence, I even made a trip to Fengtai County in Huainan Prefecture.”
Xiao Fu, “There’s no need for evidence from Xu Zhuojun. He’s already in the imperial prison—he’ll be dead in a few days anyway.” As he spoke, he extended a hand. “The letters—let me see them.”
One stack had been written by Tang Mengyang, the other by Lin Zikui.
Xiao Fu frowned. “So many.”
“Yes, they corresponded often. I’ve read them all… Most of the time, Tang Mengyang used metaphors to describe political situations in the capital and asked Young Master Lin for his analysis. Over these three years, one could say that Lin Zikui helped him rise in rank and contributed quite a bit.”
Xiao Fu flipped through the letters. “This Tang Mengyang is truly a bootlicker. So much for being a grand academician—wasn’t that just about guessing the emperor’s mind and weighing the political winds? And yet he needed a teenager to help him strategize. What a disgrace.”
He read several of Lin Zikui’s letters. He now recognized his handwriting. The content was nothing remarkable—just giving advice and exchanging polite inquiries.
But Tang Mengyang’s letters were far more interesting. He wrote about his promotions, his move to a new residence, and even invited Lin Zikui to be his personal adviser.
The last letter mentioned that Lin Zikui intended to return to the capital to sit for the exams again.
It wasn’t hard to see from the letters that Tang Mengyang was not entirely incompetent. He clearly understood the political dynamics of the capital and was good at planning and maneuvering.
Yet after reading for a while, Xiao Fu clicked his tongue and muttered, “That Tang Mengyang…”
Yuanwu thought his lord was about to deliver some deep insight after reading for so long.
Then Xiao Fu said, “He’s definitely into men.”
Not long after, Yuanqing brought Prime Minister Xue to Xingzhi Temple.
“Marquis, that is the prime minister’s wife and his granddaughter.”
Xiao Fu walked out of the East Guest Hall with a smile. “Prime Minister Xue, please have a seat. Tea is being served.”
“You flatter me, Marquis. I’ve already resigned. I’m no longer a prime minister,” Xue said as he waved his hand and sat down, sipping tea. “General Chen said you invited me here for a farewell drink? I’m too old now—tea will do just fine.”
Madam Xue, their granddaughter, and the old servant all waited outside. They hadn’t come in.
Just moments ago, Prime Minister Xue had warned them: “This Marquis Xiao is not someone easy to deal with. Don’t speak with him. Don’t say a single word.”
Xiao Fu wasn’t one for small talk. Once Prime Minister Xue had finished his tea, he asked, “Surely you didn’t call me here just for tea, did you, Marquis?”
Xiao Fu answered him honestly: “I have a favored young gentleman. He’s the jieyuan* from Huainan Prefecture.”
Note: jieyuan: first place candidate in the provincial imperial examination.
Before Prime Minister Xue could even process what “favored young gentleman” implied, the next part completely captured his attention.
“Oh? A jieyuan?”
There was a saying: “Golden jieyuan, silver jinshi.” Anyone who could top the provincial exams as a jieyuan was certainly extraordinary.
“He was only fourteen when he earned that title.”
“I… I seem to have heard of this,” Prime Minister Xue murmured. A fourteen-year-old jieyuan—that was a prodigy. He vaguely remembered hearing about this three years ago.
Later, he had heard that the boy suffered from a serious eye condition, failed the metropolitan exams, and returned to his hometown, choosing not to continue studying at the Yingtian Prefecture Academy.
He hadn’t expected to hear about him again now, from Xiao Fu’s own mouth.
Xiao Fu nodded. “His surname is Lin. He recently came to the capital for the exams, but his eyes were harmed by the Xu faction. Now he’s disheartened and refuses to pursue officialdom. That’s why I wanted to ask you to speak with him, perhaps help him find his way again.”
“Harmed by the Xu faction?” Prime Minister Xue sighed. “To pass the jieyuan exam at fourteen—those are few and far between in history. And if even you’re speaking on his behalf, Marquis, then he must be quite the exceptional talent.”
“Yes. This scholar Lin is extraordinarily well-read, versed in the classics and history, insightful and knowledgeable, humble and open-minded…” Xiao Fu used no fewer than a dozen phrases to praise him.
Prime Minister Xue could only click his tongue in amazement.
Years ago, he had met this very Marquis Dingbei.
Back then, Duke Chang had sent his second son to be mentored by Prime Minister Xue, pleading earnestly: “This boy is stubborn and refuses to study. I’ve thought it through—only you, Prime Minister Xue, can deal with him.”
Prime Minister Xue soon made it clear he couldn’t deal with him.
He had Xiao Fu write something. Xiao Fu did, and Prime Minister Xue’s face turned green. “Xiao Fu! You’re already in your teens, yet your handwriting looks like that of a five-year-old!”
He had him write poetry. Xiao Fu recited a cheeky, vulgar rhyme.
He couldn’t paint.
He couldn’t play the qin.
He could play a little chess—but not much.
He liked to hang upside down from trees and practice throwing darts with leaves.
Occasionally, he’d blow on bamboo leaves, producing ear-piercing noises.
His face, though, was undeniably beautiful. Every day, the maids from the Xue household would sneak glances at him.
After half a month, Prime Minister Xue returned him to the Duke. “Duke, I can’t teach your son.”
And now, here he was, fluently stringing together idioms to praise a scholar?
Who exactly is this impressive figure?
Just for that, Prime Minister Xue decided he must meet the boy. Xiao Fu added, “If you could stay and be his teacher, I believe that scholar Lin could become a pillar of the nation.”
“I cannot bear to see such talent go to waste—another Guangling San lost to time! I will meet this young man. As for whether I’ll take him as a student…” Prime Minister Xue stood. “Let me meet him first.”
“He’s at the Qingxin Pavilion. I’ll take you there. But please, in front of him, don’t reveal my identity. Just call me ‘Benefactor Xiao.’”
Xiao Fu led Prime Minister Xue toward the Qingxin Pavilion. Naturally, they were stopped by Taoist Ze Wu’s personal guard. Xiao Fu explained, “This is Prime Minister Xue Jianzhi, the former prime minister, now retired. Please go inform the Taoist.”
The guard gave Prime Minister Xue another look before leaping up to the Qingxin Pavilion.
Prime Minister Xue tilted his head up, the multicolored light reflecting off the Ai Dai on his nose. “Is someone important hidden inside?”
“You’ll know when you meet, Elder Xue. He’s an old acquaintance of yours. But that person has already withdrawn from the mortal world and now goes by the Dharma name Ze Wu. Please don’t expose his identity in front of him.”
“Xiao Fu, what kind of riddles are you playing at?”
Xiao Fu said, “Elder Xue, don’t forget—you’re supposed to call me Benefactor Xiao.”
The guard rarely showed himself, but now he did. He walked over and whispered something into Taoist Ze Wu’s ear.
Lin Zikui couldn’t see, but Mo Liu could. Curious, he glanced over a few times.
Taoist Ze Wu was seated cross-legged on a meditation cushion, his hands clasped together. After a long while, he gave a small nod. “Let him come up. You know the rules.”
The aged voice turned toward Lin Zikui and said, “Benefactor Lin, this poor Taoist has an old friend from the secular world visiting. He is a true scholar of profound learning. Would you like to meet him?”
Lin Zikui sat up straight, adjusting his sleeves. “Of course I would. Thank you, Taoist Ze Wu, for the introduction.”
As the guard led Prime Minister Xue upstairs, he coldly reminded, “Taoist Ze Wu has already stepped away from worldly affairs, washed away his past, and taken refuge in the Three Jewels. You may only address him as ‘Taoist.’”
“Who is it, really?” Prime Minister Xue couldn’t shake off the uneasiness in his chest. Yet when he pushed open the lattice door and saw, in the dusty light, a simple, unadorned elderly man in a dull gray Taoist robe turning his head, he still couldn’t suppress the wave of shock, satisfaction, and delight that surged through him.
After so many years, ruler and minister met again—and in such a way neither could have imagined.
With a thud, Prime Minister Xue dropped to his knees, hard. He opened his mouth. “Your humble servant…”
“Ah, Elder Xue, your knees are really getting weak,” Xiao Fu stepped in and helped him up. Prime Minister Xue’s emotions surged, and tears welled in his eyes. “Taoist… Ze Wu!”
Ze Wu nodded warmly. “Benefactor Xue, I trust you’ve been well?”
“Well, well… May I ask, Taoist…”
“I am well too.”
Hearing Xiao Fu’s voice, Lin Zikui stood up and bowed to the old man. Though he didn’t know who he was, his manners were proper and respectful.
He then whispered, “Second Young Miss is here too?”
Xiao Fu gave a brief “Mm.” Thankfully, Elder Xue was hard of hearing and too focused on Ze Wu to notice.
Xiao Fu walked over and stood next to Lin Zikui. “I told you I’d introduce you to a teacher.”
“Is it the one Taoist Ze Wu wanted to introduce to me? Hmm? Is it the same person?”
“As it happens, yes. He’s surnamed Xue. You may call him Elder Xue. Only with him as your teacher will I feel at ease.”
Lin Zikui hadn’t thought of the famed Prime Minister Xue at all. He was merely a little surprised and assumed this was someone of great repute—why else would Zhao Ling speak so highly of him?
He bowed once again. “This junior, Lin Zikui, greets Elder Xue.”
“You are Lin Zikui?” Elder Xue shifted a bit of his attention. “The jieyuan of Huainan Prefecture—such elegant bearing and refined manner, yes, yes.”
He was clearly satisfied. Upon entering earlier and seeing the jieyuan speaking with Ze Wu, Elder Xue already sensed this was no ordinary youth. Anyone esteemed by both the former emperor and Marquis Dingbei couldn’t be ordinary.
But for now, he didn’t have the time. Xiao Fu also understood that once Prime Minister Xue met Ze Wu, there would be much to talk about. There was no rush for the formal disciple ceremony. So he led Lin Zikui out of the Qingxin Pavilion, with Mo Liu following closely behind.
Xiao Fu dismissed him. “Little shadow, I’m walking with your young master. You go off somewhere else.”
“Oh…”
The young master was clearly about to talk romance—Mo Liu was tactful enough to step away.
He stood in the second-floor library and watched as Second Young Miss held his young master’s hand, guiding him down step by step.
She was being extra careful, likely afraid he’d trip due to his blindness.
Moliu sighed inwardly as he often did: with that height and build, those broad shoulders and strong back—if you didn’t look at the face, Second Young Miss really looked too much like a man. Far too much.
Could she actually be…
Lin Zikui slowly descended the stairs with Xiao Fu guiding him. As he went, he asked, “That Elder Xue—is he a great scholar?”
Xiao Fu, “Yes. His name is Xue Jianzhi.”
“What?!” Lin Zikui’s foot slipped, and he nearly tumbled down the stairs. Xiao Fu reacted quickly, pulling him into a steady embrace and chuckling, “I knew it—you walk so carelessly.”
“Is he really… the Xue Jianzhi, Prime Minister Xue?” Lin Zikui looked utterly shocked.
Prime Minister Xue’s name was known by every scholar in the land.
Xiao Fu, “Of course not.”
Lin Zikui: “Oh… So you startled me on purpose. That’s why I slipped.”
But then Xiao Fu changed his tone. “I lied. It’s true. He is Minister Xue—no mistake.”
Lin Zikui nearly slipped again. Xiao Fu caught him and held him in his arms. Lin Zikui could hear the low, rumbling laughter in Xiao Fu’s chest. Slightly annoyed, he lifted his head. “Is it true or not? You’re not allowed to lie anymore.”
Lin Zikui couldn’t see, and didn’t realize that the angle he had tilted his head was perfect—just right for Xiao Fu to lower his own and kiss him.
Xiao Fu’s gaze grew deep. “It’s true. I didn’t lie this time. If you don’t believe me, go back up and ask him yourself.”
Lin Zikui believed him about seventy or eighty percent now. He was still dazed and overwhelmed, too stunned to speak. Just as he lowered his head to continue down the stairs and find a quiet spot to collect himself, Xiao Fu suddenly dipped his head, brushed his lips lightly against Lin Zikui’s, held the kiss for a heartbeat, and let out a soft, audible smack before quickly pulling away.
Lin Zikui froze.
He couldn’t see…
But he had a vague sense of what had just happened. His face flushed from his neck to his ears in an instant.
He let go of Xiao Fu’s arm and suddenly squatted down.
Xiao Fu bent over to look at him. “Why are you squatting?”
He shook his head. His face, pink against the snowy backdrop, looked adorably flustered. He muttered, “I’m not going downstairs anymore. Zhao Ling… we haven’t gone through the wedding ceremony yet. This isn’t proper.”
A smile rippled through Xiao Fu’s eyes. “But what am I supposed to do? You kissed me yesterday. I’ve lived my whole life and never kissed anyone else before.”
“Yesterday… that was different. We were in the hidden compartment of the carriage. It was cramped and dangerous… that was—there was no other choice…” Lin Zikui thought to himself, Was it really me who kissed her? He couldn’t possibly blame Zhao Ling for that, so… fine. He admitted it.
“The carriage is still parked just outside the temple,” Xiao Fu said as he took Lin Zikui’s hand. “Prime Minister Xue is a talkative man. He’ll be speaking for quite a while. If you don’t want to walk, shall I carry you to the carriage?”
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