Shen Shangling suspected that if he didn’t explain it well, Lu Xiao might decide that he was a bad influence on the little brat, and perhaps even forbid Jiang Sanwen from listening to Journey to the West altogether.
“This, well,” Shen Shangling said. Despite the cold sweat on his palms, his expression remained gentle. “A living person has seven emotions and six desires; it is only human nature to appreciate good food and beauty.”
He smiled and asked, “Does Wen-ge’er not like delicious things?”
“I…” Wen-ge’er was instantly conflicted. “I… I like them.” The candied fruits and flower cakes in the Prince’s manor were delicious; he liked them all.
“You see, Wen-ge’er,” Shen Shangling steadied his nerves and continued with a smile, “although Zhu Bajie is gluttonous, he put in a great deal of effort at Gao Village. All the farm work was done by him; everything he ate was earned by his own labor.”
Jiang Sanwen nodded his little head: “Old Shen, you are right.”
“Zhu Bajie is lecherous, but he never forcefully seized any maiden,” Shen Shangling continued to explain. “He relied on his own strong labor to become a live-in son-in-law. He neither stole nor robbed; is that not so?”
Jiang Sanwen looked a bit conflicted. It did seem to be the case.
“As for his fondness for food and beauty… whether it is in life or in literature, as a sage once said, one must hold onto the original intent of one’s heart,” Shen Shangling quoted a famous line from the Ming Dynasty philosopher Li Zhuowu, “Be magnanimous and authentic, without hypocrisy. Zhu Bajie is very authentic in his conduct; he is not a hypocrite.”
Jiang Sanwen blinked, appearing to understand, though not entirely: “My father often says he is a magnanimous and authentic gentleman, but he also says Master Wen is cunning and hypocritical.”
Shen Shangling: “…” Jiang Yuanlin: “…”
Shen Shangling inwardly took a sharp breath. What kind of incredible truth have I stumbled upon now? Little brat, stop dragging other people into this.
Lu Xiao swept a glance at Jiang Yuanlin, who coughed lightly and touched his chin, pretending he hadn’t heard a thing. Wen Qiantan is an old fox—no, a succubus. Every time he comes over, he picks fights with me. Wen Qiantan had once placed third in the imperial examinations and was a man of profound literary talent and sharp tongue; every time they argued, Jiang Yuanlin ended up the loser. What was wrong with him complaining about the man behind his back?
“Old Shen, but the Great Sage isn’t greedy for food or beauty,” Jiang Sanwen spoke up crisply, interrupting Shen Shangling’s nervousness. “How is Zhu Bajie different from the Great Sage?”
“It is like this,” Shen Shangling noticed that Lu Xiao and Jiang Yuanlin remained motionless, so he hurriedly composed himself and smiled. “The Great Sage is a great hero with great talent; his heart and (perspective/scope) are naturally different from an ordinary person’s. In this world, there are great heroes, and there are ordinary men with minor talents. The Goddess’s guidance allows each to utilize their respective strengths.”
“Old Shen, but I… I like delicious things…” Jiang Sanwen began to struggle again. “Can I not become a great hero?” He still liked the Great Sage.
“Wen-ge’er is still small; your future achievements will be limitless. Besides, regardless of whether one can become a great hero,” Shen Shangling hurried to say, “no one should belittle themselves. ‘Heaven has made us, and we must have our uses; though a thousand gold coins be spent, they shall all return.’—” Isn’t that positive enough? As a seasoned “slacker” from before he transmigrated, he felt a bit embarrassed saying this to such an innocent child.
“What a wonderful line, ‘Heaven has made us, and we must have our uses; though a thousand gold coins be spent, they shall all return,'” Lu Xiao suddenly spoke up. “Enough, that is all for today. Wen-ge’er, we shall listen again tomorrow.”
Jiang Sanwen was obediently, though reluctantly, led away by Jiang Yuanlin. With only himself and Lu Xiao left in the West Pavilion, Shen Shangling’s heart tightened. He bowed, intending to take his leave.
“I have a question for you,” Lu Xiao’s voice was neither heavy nor light. “I am surprised—does the Snow Demon truly think so highly of himself, as if you were a useful talent? Do you feel I have been burying your potential?”
Those two lines of poetry were truly arrogant, yet within that arrogance lay an indescribable, unyielding spirit. Perhaps this Snow Demon felt completely unreconciled after being tormented to this point?
“Your Highness, this humble servant would not dare,” Shen Shangling explained hurriedly. “On the contrary, I feel that being able to do practical things for Your Highness is the first time I have felt I had any use—the first time I have felt my feet planted firmly on the ground.” As he spoke, he peeked cautiously at Lu Xiao and added, “In the workshop courtyard, last night was also the best night’s sleep I have had. Your Highness allowing me to work is something I am infinitely grateful for; I would not shrink from any task, even if it meant sacrificing my very life.”
He addressed himself as a “humble servant” in every sentence, wishing he could find a crack in the floor to hide in under Lu Xiao’s heavy gaze. The man’s wolf-like eyes made the very marrow in his bones feel cold.
“Oh?” Lu Xiao curled his lips.
“In that case,” Lu Xiao tapped his fingers against the table, “I have one more task for you. Set aside time each day to write down all the ‘heterodox, miscellaneous studies’ from foreign lands you spoke of, without fail.”
“This humble servant obeys.” Shen Shangling felt an instant relief. The more work I have, the less I will be tortured, and the less… pain.
But Lu Xiao still showed no signs of letting him go, and Shen Shangling’s heart rose again.
“The Snow Demon’s handwriting—” Lu Xiao spoke in a low voice, “are you planning to create a new style of calligraphy?”
Shen Shangling braced himself and replied, “Yes.”
Lu Xiao suddenly let out a cold scoff.
Shen Shangling: “…”
“I might as well give you a copybook,” Lu Xiao “slapped” a booklet onto the table. “Look at this calligraphy and tell me what you think.”
Shen Shangling opened it cautiously and pressed his lips together. He didn’t know which famous master had written it, but the brushwork was incredibly vigorous and powerful—it was truly exquisite.
“How is it?” Lu Xiao asked again.
“This calligraphy,” Shen Shangling praised, “is breathtakingly refined.”
Lu Xiao raised an eyebrow.
“I cannot wait for you to create a new style,” Lu Xiao said, his mood seemingly improved as his tone softened. “Take this to practice your imitation. You will definitely need to write to get things done, I cannot stand looking at your insect-crawling handwriting.”
Shen Shangling: “…This humble servant obeys.”
Just when he thought Lu Xiao might let him leave, Lu Xiao tapped the table again.
“Sit,” Lu Xiao hummed lightly. “From now on, after you finish telling stories to Wen-ge’er every day, you will practice a few sheets of calligraphy here in the West Pavilion before you go.”
Shen Shangling: “…Huh?”
One cannot disobey the Prince’s order. Shen Shangling sat down, bewildered, and cast a cautious glance with the corner of his eye, hoping Lu Xiao would leave. To his surprise, Lu Xiao had no intention of going; instead, he pulled a book from the shelf and sat right across from him.
Shen Shangling: “…” No, where does Lu Xiao find so much leisure time? Doesn’t he have a rebellion to plot?
“Hmm?” Lu Xiao looked at him with a mocking smile. “Is the Snow Demon peeping at me?”
Shen Shangling: “…”
He hurriedly lowered his gaze, took a deep breath, and carefully picked up the brush. Dipping it into the inkwell stroke by stroke, Shen Shangling felt the brush in his hand was heavier than iron. With a slight tremor of the tip, a drop of ink “plop” landed on the paper.
Shen Shangling: “…” Stubborn ink, don’t you dare go dripping everywhere.
Shen Shangling felt a wave of panic, trying his best to maintain a calm facade. He carefully studied the characters in the copybook, found one that looked easy to write, and, trembling, began to write on the paper. Clearly, his regular handwriting wasn’t bad, and he was concentrating almost entirely on imitating the characters… yet, the moment he held the brush, his hand inexplicably started to shake.
“Why are you shaking?”
Lu Xiao’s voice suddenly appeared right beside his ear. Shen Shangling was incredibly startled; he gave a violent shiver, and the brush in his hand “plop” fell onto the paper, creating a large, dark blotch of ink.
“Change the paper,” Lu Xiao ordered coldly. “Try again.”
Shen Shangling bit his lip, changed the paper, and picked up the brush once more. Lu Xiao stood right beside him. As he frowned at Shen Shangling’s posture, a gentle breeze from outside the West Pavilion’s window blew in, sweeping past them. A cluster of roses grew outside, and several tiny petals drifted into the pavilion with the wind, falling upon the table and floor. One petal landed on Shen Shangling’s shoulder.
The movement of the petal caught Lu Xiao’s gaze; his eyes drifted inadvertently toward Shen Shangling’s neck. At this moment, the man was buried in his writing, and his slightly bent, fair neck was covered in sweat. It was likely hot, and his earlobes were flushed red; paired with the beads of sweat, his skin appeared unusually delicate. Following the line of his thin shoulders and arms down, he saw the hand holding the brush—slender, white fingers, and beneath the fine-porcelain-like skin on the back of his hand, faint, pale blue veins were visible… Why does he look as if he’s struggling for his life just to write a character?
Lu Xiao frowned, subconsciously wanting to reach out, take hold of the man’s hand, and correct that incredibly awkward grip.
“Your Highness.” Just then, a guard’s voice came from outside the West Pavilion. “Senior Official Zhao is here to report.”
A tremor went through Lu Xiao’s eyes. The hand he had just begun to extend was instantly withdrawn.
“Tell him to go to the study.”
After giving the order, Lu Xiao turned and strode out of the West Pavilion. He had entrusted the soap matter to Zhao Ce. By now, Zhao Ce’s initial probes among the noble families should have yielded results. He really wanted to see if the Hibiscus Soap was truly as profitable as he thought.