Through early spring, the last bout of falling leaves flies through the Jiangzhou palace; tenderly yellow shells which used to wrap themselves around young buds have shaken loose from their branches with the lightest of touch from a breeze, and scatters all over the ground. It is a time of warmth interspersed with bursts of cold, budding scenery infused with a sense of melancholy.
“Please remove your sword, my lord.” A Black Armours bodyguard is blocking Wu Du’s way.
“I have special permission from the late emperor as well as the current crown prince to wear my sword in the palace.”
The two are at an impasse. “According to the general’s orders, unless permission is granted by the reigning emperor, no one is allowed to wear their sword upon entering the palace. The meeting with the Mongolian envoy last time was an exemption.”
“Let him go inside,” Xie You’s voice says.
The guard, saved from a round of vomiting and diarrhea, lets Wu Du inside. Xie You looks at Wu Du with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, while Wu Du’s mouth curls into the slightest smile as he realises that Xie You has already noticed the plans set into motion by Duan Ling. The Mongolian envoy must have also made a visit to him.
“Came to meet His Majesty?” Xie You asks.
“Just came back from meeting His Majesty?” Wu Du says, chilly.
It’s question marks from both of them, neither answering their questions, each stepping aside to let the other pass.
Wu Du’s cape is fastened all the way to his collar with the Lieguangjian hidden beneath his cape, and by the time he arrives Zheng Yan has already announced his presence. Thus the Li Yanqiu sitting within calls for him, “Wu Du? Come on in.”
Li Yanqiu is flipping through memorials regarding the spring sowing, and on top of his desk is an imperial decree, already written.
“We don’t yet know where the Zhenshanhe is,” Li Yanqiu says. “So you can’t bring the sword with you to investigate this matter in my stead, but it’s more or less the same when you have an imperial decree written by my hand.”
“Certainly,” Wu Du replies. He takes the order and immediately tries to leave.
Li Yanqiu stops him by saying, “Wait a moment. I have something to ask you.”
Zheng Yan tactfully goes outside to stand guard outside the door. Wu Du gives Zheng Yan a look, as he’s just now wondering how come Zheng Yan is at the emperor’s side one moment and off to the Eastern Palace the next? It can’t be that the crown prince can’t stand him?
Li Yanqiu cuts to the chase just as Wu Du had expected him to. “Once this whole business is over and done with, come work in the palace. You’ve worked for the late emperor before, so we can give you a title of the fourth rank, one where you can keep wearing your sword here and serve at the crown prince’s side. You’ll supervise the crown prince, so he’ll not pass the time idly by; in several years, if you pass your reviews without any fault, you’ll be appointed the Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent.”
Though Junior Guardian is an empty title, it’s still a title that makes him an official of the second rank — he’ll be suddenly placed above most officials and made peers with Xie You.
No wonder Xie You made that face when he saw him earlier.
Li Yanqiu waits for ages, but he doesn’t see Wu Du trembling with emotion or fall to his knees in tears to thank His Majesty’s imperial grace. He raises his eyes to take a look, thinking Wu Du may be so moved he can’t even speak, but to Li Yanqiu’s surprise, Wu Du is hesitating for a moment before he puts one fist in hand and bows.
“I have failed at fulfilling the late emperor’s last wishes,” Wu Du replies. “I dare not accept this order.”
Li Yanqiu is momentarily speechless.
“The crown prince was the one who demanded you join the Eastern Palace,” Li Yanqiu says coolly. If Zheng Yan is here right now, he’d notice that Li Yanqiu is already furious and would have told Wu Du to accept for now and not be so pigheaded.
“I’m a disagreeable man and fear my service may run counter to Your Majesty’s wishes. I dare not accept this order.”
Li Yanqiu sets his brush down, watching Wu Du; sunlight slants in through the window, casting a ray of light onto Wu Du’s face. Li Yanqiu is utterly flabbergasted, however — what on earth has given him the gall to refuse?
But Li Yanqiu suddenly starts to laugh. “Wu Du … oh Wu Du.”
Wu Du replies, “Your Majesty.”
Li Yanqiu studies Wu Du carefully, and his tone is quite cordial, “Out of the four of you, the only one I can’t understand is you.”
“I am devoted to Your Majesty,” Wu Du says, “I may not be any good at expressing oneself, but my loyalty to Your Majesty is undeniable.”
“Second rank first class is too far beneath you,” Li Yanqiu says solemnly, “with your martial arts skills and the ability to strategise, you should have been made Senior Guardian to begin with, but unfortunately that’s Wuluohou Mu’s position. Since you’re so determined not to join the Eastern Palace, then go off and be free then, free as a bird.”
At the end of that sentence, something flies through the air and hits Wu Du on the head. Ink poured over his face — what hit him was the ink stone. With Wu Du’s skills, he could have easily dodged out of the way before Li Yanqiu even started the throw, but Wu Du didn’t dodge, and didn’t get out of the way — he simply endured the blow.
“Get back to work then,” Li Yanqiu says, smiling. “Wu Du, with such willpower, you’re sure to become a major general that contributes greatly to Great Chen’s recovery.”
Wu Du reaches up to wipe his face. His neck too, is covered in ink, dripping down along his collar. Bending over, Wu Du picks up the ink stone and respectfully places it back onto the imperial desk with both hands, making sure it’s set down properly before he withdraws from the study.
Seeing Wu Du with half his face covered in ink as though he’s wearing a mask, Zheng Yan doubles up in laughter. But from inside the room, Li Yanqiu is saying, “Zheng Yan.”
Zheng Yan’s expression freezes and he quickly steps back into the imperial study.
Before he does anything else, Wu Du heads to the palace gardens. He scoops up some water from the pond and washes his face. Shortly afterwards, there are footsteps approaching him from behind.
“Let’s put a halt on the plan for several days.” Lang Junxia’s voice rings out behind him. “There are some things I haven’t been able to make clear yet.”
“We’re going to halt just because you say so?” Wu Du says coldly.
Lang Junxia narrows his eyes and looks Wu Du up and down, unsure why his face is covered in ink; neither does he understand why Wu Du’s face is covered in ink and he’s somehow still so arrogant.
Wu Du examines his reflection in the pool once he finishes washing his face. Lang Junxia kindly reminds him, “Your neck isn’t clean yet.”
Wu Du can but rub his neck down with more water. “I’ll give you another three days.”
Lang Junxia says no more and turns to go. Wu Du checks himself against the water some more before he leaves himself.
Wu Du had thought he’d gotten himself quite clean by the time he got home, but he’s met with Duan Ling’s riotous laughter anyway.
A pond is no mirror after all, so it doesn’t give a very good reflection. Wu Du has washed himself into a calico, standing in the courtyard beneath a shining spring sun.
“Hahahahaha—” Duan Ling never expected for Wu Du to come back looking like this, since it’s entirely disconnected from his image from when he left this morning. Astonishment and the farcical sight of him have Duan Ling laughing as though he’s been dosed with a laughing drug, collapsing onto the table with laughter.
Wu Du can’t help but laugh as well. “I didn’t get it all off?’ And as he says this, he wipes his hand over his face again.
“Hahaha—” Duan Ling is close to having a seizure from laughing. They laugh face to face for a bit before Duan Ling says to him while still gasping, “How did you manage to end up looking like that?”
Wu Du wants to make Duan Ling laugh some more, and so he says, “I was walking along and a breeze blew a sheet of paper over onto my face, and the ink hasn’t dried yet. The ink just dripped all the way down.”
This explanation makes Duan Ling break out in a second round of laughter, he just finds it so silly. He struggles to crawl over to the kettle as he laughs so he can boil some water for Wu Du to wash his face with.
The more Wu Du thinks about it the more funny it seems; when he looks at Duan Ling he can’t help wanting to make him laugh more. If this hit he’s taken can manage to make him laugh for so long, then it’s totally worth it.
“How come it’s inside your clothes too?” Duan Ling says, surprised, “it’s soaked right through!”
Wu Du strips himself down to the waist, and grabs some soap locust so he can scrub himself down outside. Duan Ling takes his outer robe and the cape, and when he notices everything is covered in ink, he takes the clothes out to the back courtyard for laundering.
“What on earth happened? Were you hit by an ink stone?”
Wu Du is about to answer him when a servant comes to the door summoning him to a meeting with Chancellor Mu. Duan Ling runs out after him, but Wu Du signals that he should wait at home. He grabs the one clean robe nearest at hand and walks quickly out of the house to see Mu Kuangda.
Mu Kuangda has been so busy lately that he can barely spare any time for his own son, but now he’s sent everyone else away to meet with Wu Du. Even Chang Liujun isn’t present.
Mu Kuangda steeps a pot of tea for himself, pouring Wu Du a cup.
“To have the gall to refuse even a position like Junior Guardian to the Heir Apparent,” Mu Kuangda says deliberately, “What on earth could you be so scrupulous about? Master Chang Pin did say that you don’t care about anyone in this estate, that in your eyes there is no one but Wang Shan. It’s only since his arrival that you’ve gained a sense of propriety, and started doing something with your life.”
Wu Du doesn’t answer him. He picks up the teacup and takes a sip of tea.
“I remember that, when I led you out of the Celestial Prison,” Mu Kuangda says casually, as though that wasn’t a big deal at all, “this is not what you promised me. If you’ve anything you want to say, go ahead and tell me.”
Wu Du gives this some thought. “The imperial court’s filled with all kinds of people, good and bad. I don’t want to be there.”
“Is that the real reason? It clearly isn’t.”
“Things are rather good the way they are.”
“What’s rather good?”
Wu Du finishes his tea and says to Mu Kuangda, “Worldly affairs can change in an instant, and the hearts of men are hard to predict. Sometimes what changes isn’t the political situation but one’s own heart, and what one worries about isn’t other people, but one’s own self. I just want to stay here in the estate and remain at Shan’er’s side. You can call me unambitious if you’d like, or perhaps say that I don’t know how to take the initiative to advance my career, but I’m satisfied with the life I’m leading now.”
The study falls suddenly quiet. Of course Mu Kuangda understands what Wu Du means; with those words he’s managed to close off every last shred of reasoning — for the only variable is Wu Du himself. Can he guarantee that he’ll remain loyal to Mu Kuangda forever once he’s joined the Eastern Palace? Would he still stay true to his promise to the Mus even if Mu Kuangda opposes the crown prince?
Can money buy a person’s devotion? If a thousand taels of silver isn’t enough, what about ten thousand? Maybe he’ll walk farther and farther from the Mus, and that’s not something Mu Kuangda wants to see happen either.
“You may be satisfied, but Wang Shan may not necessarily be satisfied. Wu Du, you have to think this through. You won’t marry, but if Wang Shan joins the imperial court and becomes an official, he will get married. What are you going to do with yourself then?”
“With one’s time on earth, even if happiness only lasts an instant, it is still a good thing to have. What he does, what he chooses — that has nothing to do with my decision.”
Mu Kuangda lets out a sigh. “Never mind. I should have known that this is the kind of person you are. I thought you have changed a lot recently, but I never could have imagined that ever since the day you arrived, you’ve never changed at all.”
And so Wu Du puts a hand in his fist, salutes to Mu Kuangda, and withdraws from the room.
By the time he gets back to the courtyard house, Duan Ling is already hanging up their freshly laundered clothes. He turns to look at Wu Du. “Back so soon?”
Wu Du stares at Duan Ling, and smiles at him without a word.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing at all.” Wu Du walks over and sits down in the room, his eyes not leaving Duan Ling the whole time.
Duan Ling keeps feeling that something is up with Wu Du today. He asks probingly, “Did you get the handwritten imperial order?”
Wu Du thinks for a moment. “I have it, we can mobilise the Shadow Guard, but we’re not in a hurry. Let’s wait until you finish with the metropolitan exams first.”
Duan Ling nods, but he can’t help but keep looking at Wu Du. At this very moment, he’s feeling extremely uneasy; these are the last three days before his years of school life come to an end, and it’ll be where the next portion of his life begins. Once the metropolitan exams are over, if he isn’t on the list of passing examinees, his only option is to join the Mu estate and become an on-demand adviser.
He’ll be just like Chang Pin. His compensation may be decent, but he’ll accomplish nothing in his own name, and nearly all of his life will be spent abroad.
Outside, Wu Du starts playing a song on his flute, and Duan Ling’s heart gradually settles again.
“If I pass the exams,” Duan Ling says suddenly, “can you promise me one thing?”
Wu Du sets his flute down and glances into the room.
“What is it?”
“I’ll tell you when the time comes.”
And so Wu Du gives him a nod, and Duan Ling feels as though he’s been given a promise.
If he brings up his request that he wants to do … that with Wu Du, will Wu Du agree to it?
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
Through early spring, the last bout of falling leaves flies through the Jiangzhou palace; tenderly yellow shells which used to wrap themselves around young buds have shaken loose from their branches with the lightest of touch from a breeze, and scatters all over the ground. It is a time of warmth interspersed with bursts of cold, budding scenery infused with a sense of melancholy.
“Please remove your sword, my lord.” A Black Armours bodyguard is blocking Wu Du’s way.
“I have special permission from the late emperor as well as the current crown prince to wear my sword in the palace.”
The two are at an impasse. “According to the general’s orders, unless permission is granted by the reigning emperor, no one is allowed to wear their sword upon entering the palace. The meeting with the Mongolian envoy last time was an exemption.”
“Let him go inside,” Xie You’s voice says.
The guard, saved from a round of vomiting and diarrhea, lets Wu Du inside. Xie You looks at Wu Du with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, while Wu Du’s mouth curls into the slightest smile as he realises that Xie You has already noticed the plans set into motion by Duan Ling. The Mongolian envoy must have also made a visit to him.
“Came to meet His Majesty?” Xie You asks.
“Just came back from meeting His Majesty?” Wu Du says, chilly.
It’s question marks from both of them, neither answering their questions, each stepping aside to let the other pass.
Wu Du’s cape is fastened all the way to his collar with the Lieguangjian hidden beneath his cape, and by the time he arrives Zheng Yan has already announced his presence. Thus the Li Yanqiu sitting within calls for him, “Wu Du? Come on in.”
Li Yanqiu is flipping through memorials regarding the spring sowing, and on top of his desk is an imperial decree, already written.
“We don’t yet know where the Zhenshanhe is,” Li Yanqiu says. “So you can’t bring the sword with you to investigate this matter in my stead, but it’s more or less the same when you have an imperial decree written by my hand.”
“Certainly,” Wu Du replies. He takes the order and immediately tries to leave.
Li Yanqiu stops him by saying, “Wait a moment. I have something to ask you.”
Zheng Yan tactfully goes outside to stand guard outside the door. Wu Du gives Zheng Yan a look, as he’s just now wondering how come Zheng Yan is at the emperor’s side one moment and off to the Eastern Palace the next? It can’t be that the crown prince can’t stand him?
Li Yanqiu cuts to the chase just as Wu Du had expected him to. “Once this whole business is over and done with, come work in the palace. You’ve worked for the late emperor before, so we can give you a title of the fourth rank, one where you can keep wearing your sword here and serve at the crown prince’s side. You’ll supervise the crown prince, so he’ll not pass the time idly by; in several years, if you pass your reviews without any fault, you’ll be appointed the Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent.”
Though Junior Guardian is an empty title, it’s still a title that makes him an official of the second rank — he’ll be suddenly placed above most officials and made peers with Xie You.
No wonder Xie You made that face when he saw him earlier.
Li Yanqiu waits for ages, but he doesn’t see Wu Du trembling with emotion or fall to his knees in tears to thank His Majesty’s imperial grace. He raises his eyes to take a look, thinking Wu Du may be so moved he can’t even speak, but to Li Yanqiu’s surprise, Wu Du is hesitating for a moment before he puts one fist in hand and bows.
“I have failed at fulfilling the late emperor’s last wishes,” Wu Du replies. “I dare not accept this order.”
Li Yanqiu is momentarily speechless.
“The crown prince was the one who demanded you join the Eastern Palace,” Li Yanqiu says coolly. If Zheng Yan is here right now, he’d notice that Li Yanqiu is already furious and would have told Wu Du to accept for now and not be so pigheaded.
“I’m a disagreeable man and fear my service may run counter to Your Majesty’s wishes. I dare not accept this order.”
Li Yanqiu sets his brush down, watching Wu Du; sunlight slants in through the window, casting a ray of light onto Wu Du’s face. Li Yanqiu is utterly flabbergasted, however — what on earth has given him the gall to refuse?
But Li Yanqiu suddenly starts to laugh. “Wu Du … oh Wu Du.”
Wu Du replies, “Your Majesty.”
Li Yanqiu studies Wu Du carefully, and his tone is quite cordial, “Out of the four of you, the only one I can’t understand is you.”
“I am devoted to Your Majesty,” Wu Du says, “I may not be any good at expressing oneself, but my loyalty to Your Majesty is undeniable.”
“Second rank first class is too far beneath you,” Li Yanqiu says solemnly, “with your martial arts skills and the ability to strategise, you should have been made Senior Guardian to begin with, but unfortunately that’s Wuluohou Mu’s position. Since you’re so determined not to join the Eastern Palace, then go off and be free then, free as a bird.”
At the end of that sentence, something flies through the air and hits Wu Du on the head. Ink poured over his face — what hit him was the ink stone. With Wu Du’s skills, he could have easily dodged out of the way before Li Yanqiu even started the throw, but Wu Du didn’t dodge, and didn’t get out of the way — he simply endured the blow.
“Get back to work then,” Li Yanqiu says, smiling. “Wu Du, with such willpower, you’re sure to become a major general that contributes greatly to Great Chen’s recovery.”
Wu Du reaches up to wipe his face. His neck too, is covered in ink, dripping down along his collar. Bending over, Wu Du picks up the ink stone and respectfully places it back onto the imperial desk with both hands, making sure it’s set down properly before he withdraws from the study.
Seeing Wu Du with half his face covered in ink as though he’s wearing a mask, Zheng Yan doubles up in laughter. But from inside the room, Li Yanqiu is saying, “Zheng Yan.”
Zheng Yan’s expression freezes and he quickly steps back into the imperial study.
Before he does anything else, Wu Du heads to the palace gardens. He scoops up some water from the pond and washes his face. Shortly afterwards, there are footsteps approaching him from behind.
“Let’s put a halt on the plan for several days.” Lang Junxia’s voice rings out behind him. “There are some things I haven’t been able to make clear yet.”
“We’re going to halt just because you say so?” Wu Du says coldly.
Lang Junxia narrows his eyes and looks Wu Du up and down, unsure why his face is covered in ink; neither does he understand why Wu Du’s face is covered in ink and he’s somehow still so arrogant.
Wu Du examines his reflection in the pool once he finishes washing his face. Lang Junxia kindly reminds him, “Your neck isn’t clean yet.”
Wu Du can but rub his neck down with more water. “I’ll give you another three days.”
Lang Junxia says no more and turns to go. Wu Du checks himself against the water some more before he leaves himself.
Wu Du had thought he’d gotten himself quite clean by the time he got home, but he’s met with Duan Ling’s riotous laughter anyway.
A pond is no mirror after all, so it doesn’t give a very good reflection. Wu Du has washed himself into a calico, standing in the courtyard beneath a shining spring sun.
“Hahahahaha—” Duan Ling never expected for Wu Du to come back looking like this, since it’s entirely disconnected from his image from when he left this morning. Astonishment and the farcical sight of him have Duan Ling laughing as though he’s been dosed with a laughing drug, collapsing onto the table with laughter.
Wu Du can’t help but laugh as well. “I didn’t get it all off?’ And as he says this, he wipes his hand over his face again.
“Hahaha—” Duan Ling is close to having a seizure from laughing. They laugh face to face for a bit before Duan Ling says to him while still gasping, “How did you manage to end up looking like that?”
Wu Du wants to make Duan Ling laugh some more, and so he says, “I was walking along and a breeze blew a sheet of paper over onto my face, and the ink hasn’t dried yet. The ink just dripped all the way down.”
This explanation makes Duan Ling break out in a second round of laughter, he just finds it so silly. He struggles to crawl over to the kettle as he laughs so he can boil some water for Wu Du to wash his face with.
The more Wu Du thinks about it the more funny it seems; when he looks at Duan Ling he can’t help wanting to make him laugh more. If this hit he’s taken can manage to make him laugh for so long, then it’s totally worth it.
“How come it’s inside your clothes too?” Duan Ling says, surprised, “it’s soaked right through!”
Wu Du strips himself down to the waist, and grabs some soap locust so he can scrub himself down outside. Duan Ling takes his outer robe and the cape, and when he notices everything is covered in ink, he takes the clothes out to the back courtyard for laundering.
“What on earth happened? Were you hit by an ink stone?”
Wu Du is about to answer him when a servant comes to the door summoning him to a meeting with Chancellor Mu. Duan Ling runs out after him, but Wu Du signals that he should wait at home. He grabs the one clean robe nearest at hand and walks quickly out of the house to see Mu Kuangda.
Mu Kuangda has been so busy lately that he can barely spare any time for his own son, but now he’s sent everyone else away to meet with Wu Du. Even Chang Liujun isn’t present.
Mu Kuangda steeps a pot of tea for himself, pouring Wu Du a cup.
“To have the gall to refuse even a position like Junior Guardian to the Heir Apparent,” Mu Kuangda says deliberately, “What on earth could you be so scrupulous about? Master Chang Pin did say that you don’t care about anyone in this estate, that in your eyes there is no one but Wang Shan. It’s only since his arrival that you’ve gained a sense of propriety, and started doing something with your life.”
Wu Du doesn’t answer him. He picks up the teacup and takes a sip of tea.
“I remember that, when I led you out of the Celestial Prison,” Mu Kuangda says casually, as though that wasn’t a big deal at all, “this is not what you promised me. If you’ve anything you want to say, go ahead and tell me.”
Wu Du gives this some thought. “The imperial court’s filled with all kinds of people, good and bad. I don’t want to be there.”
“Is that the real reason? It clearly isn’t.”
“Things are rather good the way they are.”
“What’s rather good?”
Wu Du finishes his tea and says to Mu Kuangda, “Worldly affairs can change in an instant, and the hearts of men are hard to predict. Sometimes what changes isn’t the political situation but one’s own heart, and what one worries about isn’t other people, but one’s own self. I just want to stay here in the estate and remain at Shan’er’s side. You can call me unambitious if you’d like, or perhaps say that I don’t know how to take the initiative to advance my career, but I’m satisfied with the life I’m leading now.”
The study falls suddenly quiet. Of course Mu Kuangda understands what Wu Du means; with those words he’s managed to close off every last shred of reasoning — for the only variable is Wu Du himself. Can he guarantee that he’ll remain loyal to Mu Kuangda forever once he’s joined the Eastern Palace? Would he still stay true to his promise to the Mus even if Mu Kuangda opposes the crown prince?
Can money buy a person’s devotion? If a thousand taels of silver isn’t enough, what about ten thousand? Maybe he’ll walk farther and farther from the Mus, and that’s not something Mu Kuangda wants to see happen either.
“You may be satisfied, but Wang Shan may not necessarily be satisfied. Wu Du, you have to think this through. You won’t marry, but if Wang Shan joins the imperial court and becomes an official, he will get married. What are you going to do with yourself then?”
“With one’s time on earth, even if happiness only lasts an instant, it is still a good thing to have. What he does, what he chooses — that has nothing to do with my decision.”
Mu Kuangda lets out a sigh. “Never mind. I should have known that this is the kind of person you are. I thought you have changed a lot recently, but I never could have imagined that ever since the day you arrived, you’ve never changed at all.”
And so Wu Du puts a hand in his fist, salutes to Mu Kuangda, and withdraws from the room.
By the time he gets back to the courtyard house, Duan Ling is already hanging up their freshly laundered clothes. He turns to look at Wu Du. “Back so soon?”
Wu Du stares at Duan Ling, and smiles at him without a word.
“What are you smiling about?”
“Nothing at all.” Wu Du walks over and sits down in the room, his eyes not leaving Duan Ling the whole time.
Duan Ling keeps feeling that something is up with Wu Du today. He asks probingly, “Did you get the handwritten imperial order?”
Wu Du thinks for a moment. “I have it, we can mobilise the Shadow Guard, but we’re not in a hurry. Let’s wait until you finish with the metropolitan exams first.”
Duan Ling nods, but he can’t help but keep looking at Wu Du. At this very moment, he’s feeling extremely uneasy; these are the last three days before his years of school life come to an end, and it’ll be where the next portion of his life begins. Once the metropolitan exams are over, if he isn’t on the list of passing examinees, his only option is to join the Mu estate and become an on-demand adviser.
He’ll be just like Chang Pin. His compensation may be decent, but he’ll accomplish nothing in his own name, and nearly all of his life will be spent abroad.
Outside, Wu Du starts playing a song on his flute, and Duan Ling’s heart gradually settles again.
“If I pass the exams,” Duan Ling says suddenly, “can you promise me one thing?”
Wu Du sets his flute down and glances into the room.
“What is it?”
“I’ll tell you when the time comes.”
And so Wu Du gives him a nod, and Duan Ling feels as though he’s been given a promise.
If he brings up his request that he wants to do … that with Wu Du, will Wu Du agree to it?
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
