Mo Li: I won’t ask; troubles are bound to arise anyway.
The Vice Minister of War left in a disheveled state, with the onlookers busy discussing among themselves, hardly anyone noticed the unfortunate scholar who fell off the carriage.
The scholar twisted his right foot, he endured the pain and got up, trying hard to protect his chest, and went to pick up the scattered bundle. After much difficulty in getting things in order, just as he was about to ask for help from the people nearby to lift the chest onto the carriage, he suddenly noticed something was wrong with the wheel, instantly becoming petrified, and gradually showing a sorrowful expression.
Meng Qi had already walked over, and before he could speak, he saw Mr. Jinshui in such a state.
“……”
It was just a broken wheel, but it seemed like he had received a heavy blow.
It appears that Mr. Jinshui’s reason for leaving Taijing was not ordinary.
“Sir?”
The scholar remained in sorrow, unresponsive.
Meng Qi had no choice but to use his internal strength to condense his voice into a line, directly calling out: “Mr. Jinshui?”
The scholar jumped up suddenly, because he pulled at his injury, he immediately cried out in pain.
“Did sir injure his leg just now?”
Turning around, Meng Qi was surprised to see Mo Li had also arrived.
In fact, as soon as Mr. Jinshui stood up, Mo Li noticed something was wrong with his right foot, seeing that he was still trying to move things while dragging his injury, he also got down from the carriage to persuade him.
As for the scholar, originally immersed in the despair of being forced out of the capital and encountering mishaps along the way, leaving him stranded here unable to move, now facing the reality of having no relatives or friends to turn to, not knowing where to go, he was suddenly called out for his most undesirable identity, shockingly overwhelmed. He was about to vehemently deny it, but then he faced Mo Li.
“……”
What kind of coincidence was this?
The scholar hurriedly looked around, only to see the people’s eyes shining brightly, whispering among themselves, his face turned pale in an instant, his body slightly trembling, his expression a mix of shock and anger.
Seeing something was wrong, Meng Qi immediately said: “Does sir usually go to the teahouse to listen to Pingtan or storytelling?”
This question came out of nowhere, Meng Qi did not wait for the scholar to ask, further explained: “We martial artists, through practicing internal skills, can achieve that words from our mouth only enter one person’s ears.”
The scholar was stunned, then slowly came back to his senses, realizing that things might not be as he thought.
The people pointing and discussing around him might not necessarily know his identity, but rather, they might have seen a beauty.
——Yes, that doctor who once came to ask for silver needles, had an outstanding appearance.
After regaining his senses, the scholar finally thought it through that his identity actually was not so easy to expose. His paintings, although famous, were not known by every man, woman, and child in Taijing; at least the common folks would not know, because they could not afford to buy those albums. People of strict family traditions would not know either, because to acquire spring palace drawings one would have to go to the Peony District to find that bookstore.
“I have been rude.” The scholar awkwardly bowed.
Although he did not voice his anger, a misunderstanding is a misunderstanding, he admitted to himself he was not one good at concealing his feelings, all sorts of expressions had already betrayed his thoughts completely, others are not blind.
The scholar felt a bit embarrassed now, the other party might have had good intentions, but he almost mistook it for malice.
“About your foot…”
“It’s fine, the foot is just sprained, nothing serious, it will be better after a couple of days of rest.” The scholar hurriedly said.
“But the carriage is broken, and you have so much luggage, it’s really hard to move, why not take our carriage to the Qingjiang ferry?” Meng Qi casually suggested, he did not ask why the scholar wanted to leave Taijing, nor did he ask where the scholar was going.
The scholar looked troubled at his luggage. Clearly, he was not keen on traveling with two individuals who knew his identity, yet he had no choice. On the day of the Spring Outing Festival, the outskirts of Taijing were crowded with people, making it impossible to hire a temporary carriage or find someone to fix the broken one. Now, eager to leave Taijing, he couldn’t afford any delays.
“Then… I’ll have to trouble you both.”
As soon as the scholar finished speaking, he witnessed a shocking scene.
Meng Qi untied the ropes that were dragging the broken carriage from the horse, then supported the shaft and, as if lifting a basket, walked a few steps to place the broken carriage by the roadside.
The surroundings went silent for a moment, then erupted into even more intense discussions.
“He lifted the carriage? With one hand?”
“…What kind of monstrous strength is this?”
Meng Qi, wearing a conical hat, didn’t attract attention for his looks, but for the ease with which he moved the carriage. However, on the day of the Spring Outing Festival, it was common for all sorts of skilled and extraordinary individuals to appear, seeking fame.
After all, whether a literary talent or a strongman, neither is as quickly famous as a beauty.
Mo Li tried to move Mr. Jinshui’s chest and bundles without drawing attention, but half the people kept their gaze on him, not even distracted by Meng Qi moving the carriage with one hand.
Mo Li had experienced the enthusiasm of the Taijing populace half a month earlier in the eastern market.
However, the capital was too large, and news spread slowly; many people hadn’t heard about it yet.
“Who knows where these individuals come from, what they are doing in Taijing…”
As people discussed, they boldly approached to ask questions.
Lu Min made a pained face and chuckled, urging the horse pulling the carriage as soon as Mr. Jinshui and his luggage were on, as if in a hurry to hit the road.
Meng Qi tied the spare horse to the back of the carriage, not letting it help pull.
—According to social norms, commoners could not ride in carriages pulled by two horses.
People of the jianghu rarely followed such rules; they dared to wear silks and satins forbidden to commoners, not to mention riding in carriages pulled by two or even four horses. But in a place like the capital, it’s better to avoid trouble by not directly breaking taboos.
Choosing to leave on the day of the Spring Outing Festival was because there were countless carriages leaving the city, partly to conceal the Second Prince’s whereabouts and partly to avoid those from the jianghu lurking in the city for information.
Those who had committed murder, or who had identities from the remnants of Chu dynasty or the soldiers under the southwestern Tianshou King, had mostly been caught by Gong Jun. Vice Commander Gong, a man of loyalty, had suppressed the issue of Emperor Li’s tomb treasure after Mo Li and Meng Qi helped him, especially since the pit had been filled in with sand and stones; it wouldn’t be an issue as long as no one dug it up.
The Liuhe Temple was destroyed, and a new temple would not be built in the same place.
The jianghu people trapped on Shangyun Mountain were more keen on discussing the dragons they encountered than the treasure. The treasure was elusive, but the dragons were real, witnessed with their own eyes! However, whenever they excitedly described their encounter, the listeners were disinterested, only repeatedly inquiring about the Emperor’s tomb treasure. After a few times, even the most patient would turn hostile, flipping tables and drawing weapons being common occurrences.
In truth, this was understandable; the teahouses and taverns of Taijing were filled with rumors of celestial phenomena and dragons fighting, which everyone was tired of hearing.
Thus, one side thought the other was making things up, while the other felt disrespected, insisting that the Emperor’s tomb treasure was a trap set by the Ancestor Qingwu, yet still faced endless questions. Their conversations didn’t match, leading to fights, keeping the patrolling officers of Taijing busy.
Meng Qi, having only strolled through the eastern market with Mo Li a few times, drew speculation from the cunning folks who managed to buy information from Fengxing Pavilion, guessing the identity of this man who falsely claimed to be the former dynasty’s imperial teacher and his role in the palace coup.
But the matter was too complicated, also involving Ancestor Qingwu.
Now, with Qingwu mysteriously missing, alive or dead unknown, only rumors of his death under cannon fire while assisting the Second Prince in a failed rebellion circulate. Honestly, out of ten people, nine do not believe this news.
Zhao Cangfeng, Ancestor Qingwu, was the foremost master of the era. Cannons might be powerful, but they are cumbersome; couldn’t he have simply run away?
Some wished to question Meng Qi for the truth, yet he was always on the move, appearing only briefly in Taijing’s taverns, pastry shops, or even street stalls. He bought what he needed and left, never lingering.
Those from Fengxing Pavilion tried to track him, but none succeeded.
Mo Li, reading medical books and geography in a secluded courtyard of the Eastern Palace, enjoying spring rolls and fine tea in his leisure, occasionally tasting the delicacies of the capital with Meng Qi, was completely unaware of the jianghu people turning the city upside down searching for them.
At this moment, Meng Qi leaned against the carriage shaft, looking relaxed.
According to plan, even if they hadn’t encountered Mr. Jinshui, he would have subtly left some clues to let those jianghu people know that “Master Meng” had left, as a final aid to the Crown Prince, urging those troublemakers to leave Taijing sooner.
Indeed, not the Crown Prince anymore, he should now be referred to as Emperor Qi.
In folk tradition, emperors are referred to with a gesture of clasped hands, not daring to speak more, though there are those bold and indifferent who would use the reign title instead.
For example, during Lu Zhang’s reign, he changed the reign title three times, the longest-used being Taiyuan, thus he was referred to as Emperor Taiyuan. However, after his death, he should be referred to by his temple name and posthumous title, but with the court not announcing his death, these matters ceased to proceed.
Most coincidentally, the current reign title is new, chosen by Lu Zhang after observing a comet on the first day of the lunar year, as commanded by the Imperial Astronomical Bureau to select an auspicious title that could withstand disasters. He finally settled on “Yongchen.”
Just over a month into its use, the man died.
The well-chosen auspicious reign title now belongs to his son, it’s curious what Lu Zhang would think of this.
The title Emperor Yongchen is indeed profoundly ironic.
“Brother Meng, why do you laugh?”
Mo Li asked, puzzled.
On the carriage, there were not only them but also Lu Min shrinking his head and Mr. Jinshui with a pale face.
“…According to fortune-tellers, a person’s name can be used to divine their fate and fortune. Although aliases and titles aren’t as crucial as the given name, they too can influence one’s destiny,” Meng Qi said with a half-smile.
Mo Li didn’t catch on immediately, still seriously pondering over what was wrong with Mr. Jinshui’s title.
“Ah, I meant his elder brother,” Meng Qi casually pointed at the Second Prince.
Mo Li was startled, quickly catching on to the reign title.
When an emperor passes away, the succeeding emperor cannot change the era name until the following year.
The issue with Lu Huan is that he might not live to change the era name next year—he could only be known as Emperor Yongchen.
Chen, representing the pivot of the celestial realm, the palace where the North Star resides, signifies the emperor’s authority.
Even Lu Min, not well-versed in literature, understood the meaning of the word, and couldn’t suppress his smile, his lips curling upwards incessantly.
“Right, right, a good omen!”
“…”
Mo Li glanced at Lu Min, refraining from pointing out that an emperor needs to change the era name in the following year; such an omen wasn’t truly auspicious if it only extends for a year, what of “Yongchen”?
“Just let him focus on driving,” Mo Li said resignedly.
No need to tease the Second Prince unnecessarily.
Mr. Jinshui steadied his spirit, observing the three in the carriage, unable to discern their identities or origins, much less their interrelations, he had to ask: “What are the three of you—”
“We came to the capital for a visit and didn’t expect to encounter a lockdown, delaying our journey considerably, and now we are leaving,” Meng Qi nonchalantly patted Lu Min’s shoulder, blatantly lying, “His elder brother used him to settle a debt. They say to utilize each according to their ability; since he knows horses, we might as well use him as a coachman.”
The scholar was dumbfounded, instinctively clutching his bundle tighter.
“Sir need not be tense, we greatly admire your paintings and talent. It’s merely a coincidence that our paths align; we won’t ask you for money.”
Meng Qi shifted the conversation, casually inquiring, “We are in a hurry to travel, and didn’t anticipate such congestion on the road. Sir, having lived in Taijing for so long, must be aware of the Spring Outing Festival’s grandeur. Why then choose to leave the capital on this day?”
The scholar looked sorrowful, opened his mouth but ultimately remained silent.
Even the Second Prince could tell he harbored unspeakable troubles.
But if someone chooses not to share, they can’t be forced to speak.
Recalling his visit to obtain silver needles, Mo Li remembered Mr. Jinshui claiming his ancestors were medical practitioners, and he himself had learned acupuncture. Due to his family’s decline, to make a living, he reluctantly learned some goldsmithing skills from craftsmen at a gold shop. This led to his proficiency in making silver needles. He mentioned that during the Chu dynasty, the customs were liberal, allowing the study of such “sideline skills” as long as they weren’t sold publicly, thus not being considered craftsmen. Under the Qi dynasty, Mr. Jinshui’s days became difficult, eventually forcing him to turn to painting spring sceneries.
Mo Li’s gaze fell on the scholar, Mr. Jinshui, who was pressing on his ankle.
The technique he used for setting bones and massaging… was far beyond a mere rudimentary understanding of medicine!
This was curious, practicing medicine as a physician surely seemed more respectable than being a needle craftsman or a spring painter.
Even without the ability to prescribe medicine, with his skill in bone-setting and muscle relaxation, becoming a bone-setting doctor would be fitting.
“Do you have enemies, sir?” Mo Li blurted out, then realizing his impudence, he quickly apologized, “My apologies for the abrupt question, sir, please disregard it.”
The scholar’s complexion changed several times before he lowered his head and said, “Indeed, there are some troubles haunting me. Once I board the ship, I shall part ways with you. A chance meeting is where our fates end; misfortune and fortune are mine alone, how could I involve others?”
Mo Li remained silent.
Given his usual luck, a fire at the city gates would surely spread to him; Mr. Jinshui’s avoidance would be futile.
It’s just as well, no need for further questions, just wait and see.
Mo Li: I won’t ask; troubles are bound to arise anyway.
The Vice Minister of War left in a disheveled state, with the onlookers busy discussing among themselves, hardly anyone noticed the unfortunate scholar who fell off the carriage.
The scholar twisted his right foot, he endured the pain and got up, trying hard to protect his chest, and went to pick up the scattered bundle. After much difficulty in getting things in order, just as he was about to ask for help from the people nearby to lift the chest onto the carriage, he suddenly noticed something was wrong with the wheel, instantly becoming petrified, and gradually showing a sorrowful expression.
Meng Qi had already walked over, and before he could speak, he saw Mr. Jinshui in such a state.
“……”
It was just a broken wheel, but it seemed like he had received a heavy blow.
It appears that Mr. Jinshui’s reason for leaving Taijing was not ordinary.
“Sir?”
The scholar remained in sorrow, unresponsive.
Meng Qi had no choice but to use his internal strength to condense his voice into a line, directly calling out: “Mr. Jinshui?”
The scholar jumped up suddenly, because he pulled at his injury, he immediately cried out in pain.
“Did sir injure his leg just now?”
Turning around, Meng Qi was surprised to see Mo Li had also arrived.
In fact, as soon as Mr. Jinshui stood up, Mo Li noticed something was wrong with his right foot, seeing that he was still trying to move things while dragging his injury, he also got down from the carriage to persuade him.
As for the scholar, originally immersed in the despair of being forced out of the capital and encountering mishaps along the way, leaving him stranded here unable to move, now facing the reality of having no relatives or friends to turn to, not knowing where to go, he was suddenly called out for his most undesirable identity, shockingly overwhelmed. He was about to vehemently deny it, but then he faced Mo Li.
“……”
What kind of coincidence was this?
The scholar hurriedly looked around, only to see the people’s eyes shining brightly, whispering among themselves, his face turned pale in an instant, his body slightly trembling, his expression a mix of shock and anger.
Seeing something was wrong, Meng Qi immediately said: “Does sir usually go to the teahouse to listen to Pingtan or storytelling?”
This question came out of nowhere, Meng Qi did not wait for the scholar to ask, further explained: “We martial artists, through practicing internal skills, can achieve that words from our mouth only enter one person’s ears.”
The scholar was stunned, then slowly came back to his senses, realizing that things might not be as he thought.
The people pointing and discussing around him might not necessarily know his identity, but rather, they might have seen a beauty.
——Yes, that doctor who once came to ask for silver needles, had an outstanding appearance.
After regaining his senses, the scholar finally thought it through that his identity actually was not so easy to expose. His paintings, although famous, were not known by every man, woman, and child in Taijing; at least the common folks would not know, because they could not afford to buy those albums. People of strict family traditions would not know either, because to acquire spring palace drawings one would have to go to the Peony District to find that bookstore.
“I have been rude.” The scholar awkwardly bowed.
Although he did not voice his anger, a misunderstanding is a misunderstanding, he admitted to himself he was not one good at concealing his feelings, all sorts of expressions had already betrayed his thoughts completely, others are not blind.
The scholar felt a bit embarrassed now, the other party might have had good intentions, but he almost mistook it for malice.
“About your foot…”
“It’s fine, the foot is just sprained, nothing serious, it will be better after a couple of days of rest.” The scholar hurriedly said.
“But the carriage is broken, and you have so much luggage, it’s really hard to move, why not take our carriage to the Qingjiang ferry?” Meng Qi casually suggested, he did not ask why the scholar wanted to leave Taijing, nor did he ask where the scholar was going.
The scholar looked troubled at his luggage. Clearly, he was not keen on traveling with two individuals who knew his identity, yet he had no choice. On the day of the Spring Outing Festival, the outskirts of Taijing were crowded with people, making it impossible to hire a temporary carriage or find someone to fix the broken one. Now, eager to leave Taijing, he couldn’t afford any delays.
“Then… I’ll have to trouble you both.”
As soon as the scholar finished speaking, he witnessed a shocking scene.
Meng Qi untied the ropes that were dragging the broken carriage from the horse, then supported the shaft and, as if lifting a basket, walked a few steps to place the broken carriage by the roadside.
The surroundings went silent for a moment, then erupted into even more intense discussions.
“He lifted the carriage? With one hand?”
“…What kind of monstrous strength is this?”
Meng Qi, wearing a conical hat, didn’t attract attention for his looks, but for the ease with which he moved the carriage. However, on the day of the Spring Outing Festival, it was common for all sorts of skilled and extraordinary individuals to appear, seeking fame.
After all, whether a literary talent or a strongman, neither is as quickly famous as a beauty.
Mo Li tried to move Mr. Jinshui’s chest and bundles without drawing attention, but half the people kept their gaze on him, not even distracted by Meng Qi moving the carriage with one hand.
Mo Li had experienced the enthusiasm of the Taijing populace half a month earlier in the eastern market.
However, the capital was too large, and news spread slowly; many people hadn’t heard about it yet.
“Who knows where these individuals come from, what they are doing in Taijing…”
As people discussed, they boldly approached to ask questions.
Lu Min made a pained face and chuckled, urging the horse pulling the carriage as soon as Mr. Jinshui and his luggage were on, as if in a hurry to hit the road.
Meng Qi tied the spare horse to the back of the carriage, not letting it help pull.
—According to social norms, commoners could not ride in carriages pulled by two horses.
People of the jianghu rarely followed such rules; they dared to wear silks and satins forbidden to commoners, not to mention riding in carriages pulled by two or even four horses. But in a place like the capital, it’s better to avoid trouble by not directly breaking taboos.
Choosing to leave on the day of the Spring Outing Festival was because there were countless carriages leaving the city, partly to conceal the Second Prince’s whereabouts and partly to avoid those from the jianghu lurking in the city for information.
Those who had committed murder, or who had identities from the remnants of Chu dynasty or the soldiers under the southwestern Tianshou King, had mostly been caught by Gong Jun. Vice Commander Gong, a man of loyalty, had suppressed the issue of Emperor Li’s tomb treasure after Mo Li and Meng Qi helped him, especially since the pit had been filled in with sand and stones; it wouldn’t be an issue as long as no one dug it up.
The Liuhe Temple was destroyed, and a new temple would not be built in the same place.
The jianghu people trapped on Shangyun Mountain were more keen on discussing the dragons they encountered than the treasure. The treasure was elusive, but the dragons were real, witnessed with their own eyes! However, whenever they excitedly described their encounter, the listeners were disinterested, only repeatedly inquiring about the Emperor’s tomb treasure. After a few times, even the most patient would turn hostile, flipping tables and drawing weapons being common occurrences.
In truth, this was understandable; the teahouses and taverns of Taijing were filled with rumors of celestial phenomena and dragons fighting, which everyone was tired of hearing.
Thus, one side thought the other was making things up, while the other felt disrespected, insisting that the Emperor’s tomb treasure was a trap set by the Ancestor Qingwu, yet still faced endless questions. Their conversations didn’t match, leading to fights, keeping the patrolling officers of Taijing busy.
Meng Qi, having only strolled through the eastern market with Mo Li a few times, drew speculation from the cunning folks who managed to buy information from Fengxing Pavilion, guessing the identity of this man who falsely claimed to be the former dynasty’s imperial teacher and his role in the palace coup.
But the matter was too complicated, also involving Ancestor Qingwu.
Now, with Qingwu mysteriously missing, alive or dead unknown, only rumors of his death under cannon fire while assisting the Second Prince in a failed rebellion circulate. Honestly, out of ten people, nine do not believe this news.
Zhao Cangfeng, Ancestor Qingwu, was the foremost master of the era. Cannons might be powerful, but they are cumbersome; couldn’t he have simply run away?
Some wished to question Meng Qi for the truth, yet he was always on the move, appearing only briefly in Taijing’s taverns, pastry shops, or even street stalls. He bought what he needed and left, never lingering.
Those from Fengxing Pavilion tried to track him, but none succeeded.
Mo Li, reading medical books and geography in a secluded courtyard of the Eastern Palace, enjoying spring rolls and fine tea in his leisure, occasionally tasting the delicacies of the capital with Meng Qi, was completely unaware of the jianghu people turning the city upside down searching for them.
At this moment, Meng Qi leaned against the carriage shaft, looking relaxed.
According to plan, even if they hadn’t encountered Mr. Jinshui, he would have subtly left some clues to let those jianghu people know that “Master Meng” had left, as a final aid to the Crown Prince, urging those troublemakers to leave Taijing sooner.
Indeed, not the Crown Prince anymore, he should now be referred to as Emperor Qi.
In folk tradition, emperors are referred to with a gesture of clasped hands, not daring to speak more, though there are those bold and indifferent who would use the reign title instead.
For example, during Lu Zhang’s reign, he changed the reign title three times, the longest-used being Taiyuan, thus he was referred to as Emperor Taiyuan. However, after his death, he should be referred to by his temple name and posthumous title, but with the court not announcing his death, these matters ceased to proceed.
Most coincidentally, the current reign title is new, chosen by Lu Zhang after observing a comet on the first day of the lunar year, as commanded by the Imperial Astronomical Bureau to select an auspicious title that could withstand disasters. He finally settled on “Yongchen.”
Just over a month into its use, the man died.
The well-chosen auspicious reign title now belongs to his son, it’s curious what Lu Zhang would think of this.
The title Emperor Yongchen is indeed profoundly ironic.
“Brother Meng, why do you laugh?”
Mo Li asked, puzzled.
On the carriage, there were not only them but also Lu Min shrinking his head and Mr. Jinshui with a pale face.
“…According to fortune-tellers, a person’s name can be used to divine their fate and fortune. Although aliases and titles aren’t as crucial as the given name, they too can influence one’s destiny,” Meng Qi said with a half-smile.
Mo Li didn’t catch on immediately, still seriously pondering over what was wrong with Mr. Jinshui’s title.
“Ah, I meant his elder brother,” Meng Qi casually pointed at the Second Prince.
Mo Li was startled, quickly catching on to the reign title.
When an emperor passes away, the succeeding emperor cannot change the era name until the following year.
The issue with Lu Huan is that he might not live to change the era name next year—he could only be known as Emperor Yongchen.
Chen, representing the pivot of the celestial realm, the palace where the North Star resides, signifies the emperor’s authority.
Even Lu Min, not well-versed in literature, understood the meaning of the word, and couldn’t suppress his smile, his lips curling upwards incessantly.
“Right, right, a good omen!”
“…”
Mo Li glanced at Lu Min, refraining from pointing out that an emperor needs to change the era name in the following year; such an omen wasn’t truly auspicious if it only extends for a year, what of “Yongchen”?
“Just let him focus on driving,” Mo Li said resignedly.
No need to tease the Second Prince unnecessarily.
Mr. Jinshui steadied his spirit, observing the three in the carriage, unable to discern their identities or origins, much less their interrelations, he had to ask: “What are the three of you—”
“We came to the capital for a visit and didn’t expect to encounter a lockdown, delaying our journey considerably, and now we are leaving,” Meng Qi nonchalantly patted Lu Min’s shoulder, blatantly lying, “His elder brother used him to settle a debt. They say to utilize each according to their ability; since he knows horses, we might as well use him as a coachman.”
The scholar was dumbfounded, instinctively clutching his bundle tighter.
“Sir need not be tense, we greatly admire your paintings and talent. It’s merely a coincidence that our paths align; we won’t ask you for money.”
Meng Qi shifted the conversation, casually inquiring, “We are in a hurry to travel, and didn’t anticipate such congestion on the road. Sir, having lived in Taijing for so long, must be aware of the Spring Outing Festival’s grandeur. Why then choose to leave the capital on this day?”
The scholar looked sorrowful, opened his mouth but ultimately remained silent.
Even the Second Prince could tell he harbored unspeakable troubles.
But if someone chooses not to share, they can’t be forced to speak.
Recalling his visit to obtain silver needles, Mo Li remembered Mr. Jinshui claiming his ancestors were medical practitioners, and he himself had learned acupuncture. Due to his family’s decline, to make a living, he reluctantly learned some goldsmithing skills from craftsmen at a gold shop. This led to his proficiency in making silver needles. He mentioned that during the Chu dynasty, the customs were liberal, allowing the study of such “sideline skills” as long as they weren’t sold publicly, thus not being considered craftsmen. Under the Qi dynasty, Mr. Jinshui’s days became difficult, eventually forcing him to turn to painting spring sceneries.
Mo Li’s gaze fell on the scholar, Mr. Jinshui, who was pressing on his ankle.
The technique he used for setting bones and massaging… was far beyond a mere rudimentary understanding of medicine!
This was curious, practicing medicine as a physician surely seemed more respectable than being a needle craftsman or a spring painter.
Even without the ability to prescribe medicine, with his skill in bone-setting and muscle relaxation, becoming a bone-setting doctor would be fitting.
“Do you have enemies, sir?” Mo Li blurted out, then realizing his impudence, he quickly apologized, “My apologies for the abrupt question, sir, please disregard it.”
The scholar’s complexion changed several times before he lowered his head and said, “Indeed, there are some troubles haunting me. Once I board the ship, I shall part ways with you. A chance meeting is where our fates end; misfortune and fortune are mine alone, how could I involve others?”
Mo Li remained silent.
Given his usual luck, a fire at the city gates would surely spread to him; Mr. Jinshui’s avoidance would be futile.
It’s just as well, no need for further questions, just wait and see.
