Chapter 27#
Persimmon Fragrance (Part 2)#
Le Wuyi was so deeply troubled that he ate the persimmon cakes Xiang Zhijie had sent him, filling and all, without even noticing.
By the time he finished one persimmon cake, Le Wuyi had also completed a turtle shedding its shell—an act of self-justification.
Xiao Liu and Little Phoenix had both handled the matter of his resurrection from the dead.
Yet he had told no one about the experience of living a second life.
That Xiao Liu could guess it before Little Phoenix was a testament to his cleverness.
Little Phoenix had never liked studying since childhood; he was the kind of hopeless case that not even eight horses could drag back. When they were together, Le Wuyi had never set a good example—they simply skipped class.
But Xiao Liu was someone he had personally taught.
As Le Wuyi fretted, he gradually started to feel smug. He conveniently forgot that half of Pei Mingqi’s truancy in childhood was instigated by him, nor did he bother to remember that Xiang Zhijie’s Four Books and Five Classics weren’t taught by him at all.
Once a teacher, always a father—so what if the father in question wasn’t the real one?
After clearing his mind, Le Wuyi read the letter again.
With a completely different mindset, the more he read, the more delighted he became.
They were all doing well! They hadn’t been implicated by him.
Those miserable years he had spent alone and wretched hadn’t been in vain!
He disregarded Xiang Zhijie’s advice, burning only the first page of the letter, while carefully tucking the second page into the seam of his soft pillow. He made a reverent bow before laying his head on it.
He hoped to dream of them.
Perhaps it was because he had suffered enough misfortune in his past life and the heavens took pity on him; or perhaps it was because he had eaten persimmon cakes before bed—Le Wuyi truly dreamed of the people and things he desired.
…
On the day Zhaoyi General Le Qianzhang returned to the capital for a report, before he even entered the city gates, he saw from afar two half-grown boys stacking up on each other, standing on the treetop of a wild persimmon tree outside the city, wobbling as they picked persimmons.
When Le Qianzhang was young, this wild persimmon tree had already overshadowed the sky.
It was ownerless, yet it possessed immense vitality, growing vigorously every year on its own, bearing a full crop of fruit.
When the fruit ripened, children from the vicinity would gather, brandishing bamboo poles to knock down the persimmons.
But the tree grew incredibly tall, and while the low-hanging fruit was easy to pick, even using two bamboo poles tied together couldn’t easily reach the ones at the top.
Every year, a few large persimmons craftily hid within the lush canopy, evading the harvest, until they grew so ripe and heavy that branches could no longer bear them, dropping to the ground and smashing.
Thus, picking the highest persimmon became an unwritten crown of honor among the group of reckless boys.
Every year, at least seven or eight fearless ones got hurt falling from that tree, yet there were always those who continued, undeterred and delighted.
And now, two children stood on a branch thinner than an arm and a full zhang off the ground, one perched on the other’s shoulders, earnestly searching for fruit in the shade.
Finding two fearless, audacious fools to pair up like that was no easy feat.
Le Qianzhang took another look.
With that one look, he realized something was wrong.
…The one being ridden below seemed to be that Phoenix boy of the Pei family.
He urged his horse closer.
The child above had his upper body buried in the canopy, and the shoes hanging from his feet were clearly embroidered by his own wife. She always liked to embroider some flowers, birds, or fish on the shoes of their children.
He looked up at the sun, calculating the time in his mind.
At this hour, Le Wuyi should have been in school.
Unaware, Le Wuyi yelled, “Little Phoenix! Stand on tiptoe a bit more!”
Pei Mingqi was drenched in sweat: “Can you do it or not?!”
“You’re the one who can’t!” Le Wuyi retorted. “Just a little more! Put some effort into it!”
Pei Mingqi supported himself against the trunk and moved positions with difficulty.
As he moved, he spotted Le Qianzhang, who was standing under the tree, thoughtfully looking up at them.
He gasped sharply and whispered, “C-Crow… Crow, it’s you.”
Le Wuyi sensed something wrong too. Usually, Little Phoenix called him “Crow,” but whenever there was real trouble, he changed his address.
Le Wuyi froze, but since he was hidden in the foliage, his view was obstructed, and he couldn’t see who had come.
He closed his eyes and heard the soft snort of a horse, right below him on his right side.
…It couldn’t be that much of a coincidence, could it?
Le Wuyi took a deep breath: Time to take a chance!
Pretending he didn’t know, he said, “Forget it. I’ll jump. If I can grab hold of the branch above, I can pick it.”
Pei Mingqi’s heart was pounding, and when he heard that Le Wuyi planned to jump for it, he panicked: “Little Crow, no! The branch above—”
Before he could finish, Le Wuyi made a nimble jump upward.
He knew that the branch above was too thin to bear a person’s weight.
As expected, the branch he grabbed for support only held him for a moment before snapping with a crack.
With a keen eye and swift hands, Le Wuyi snatched his target and, aiming carefully, fell straight down to the right.
Luckily, his gamble paid off.
He didn’t hit the ground but landed in a strong, warm embrace.
Le Wuyi opened his eyes, then squinted against the sun.
He heard a resigned, steady male voice: “…Reckless.”
Le Wuyi’s face lit up in a smile. Holding up the largest and most vivid persimmon he had picked from the very top of the tree, he exclaimed, “Father, I picked it for you! I was waiting for you to come back!”
Le Qianzhang’s deputy helped the nervous Pei Mingqi down from the tree and sent him home.
Le Qianzhang himself took the little troublemaker back to the mansion, intending to punish him severely.
Le Heng and Le Jue had taken the day off, specifically waiting to welcome their father home.
Seeing their third brother carried in with his feet dangling off the ground, Le Jue was stunned for a moment, then turned to look at his elder brother.
Le Heng, extremely composed, stepped forward and greeted them formally: “Father, you’ve had a hard journey.”
Le Qianzhang casually handed Le Wuyi over to Le Heng: “Take him to the ancestral hall. Let him kneel until I come back from the palace.”
Le Heng readily accepted Le Wuyi: “Yes, sir.”
Le Wuyi was particularly well-behaved, gazing at his father with a look of adoration.
But Le Qianzhang didn’t look at him much; he strode briskly toward the inner courtyard, intending to clean himself up from the journey’s dust before heading to the palace to pay respects to the new emperor.
Le Heng and Le Jue each took one side, escorting Le Wuyi toward the ancestral hall.
Le Jue whispered, “What did you do?”
Le Wuyi: “I picked persimmons for Father.”
Le Heng asked sternly, “Skipped class?”
Le Wuyi pouted: “Teacher said no one could leave until the recitation was done.”
Le Jue: “So you finished reciting?”
“No way.” Le Wuyi said matter-of-factly. “I’ll do it tonight. It’s just a little time—how could it be more important than Father’s persimmons?”
Le Jue: “…Brother, the kid’s hopeless. Forget the ancestral hall; just throw him down the well.”
Le Heng: “Mm.”
Le Wuyi blustered: “Hey, hey, hey, help!”
Suddenly, a female voice reached the ears of the three bickering brothers: “Huai Jin, Wo Yu, A Li.”
The two elder brothers, called by their childhood names, turned together and bowed with Le Wuyi: “Mother.”
Le Wuyi called out the sweetest: “Mother!”
He looked up with a pair of laughing eyes, carrying the mischievous and playful air of a young master.
From behind her came the sound of Le Qianzhang washing up.
Lady Ye, Ye Tingnan, moved closer to Le Wuyi and spoke in a clear, gentle voice: “Have you angered your father?”
Le Wuyi lowered his head, becoming naturally soft and obedient before her: “Yes.”
“You are so naughty.” She lightly tapped his forehead. “Usually, you pretend to be good and clever in front of me, but you pick this moment to anger your father. You’ll certainly get a beating by family rules.”
The sound of splashing water inside stopped, as if someone was eavesdropping on their conversation.
Le Jue, the most straightforward, lost his relaxed expression: “…Ah? Beating? Isn’t that too much?”
“Even if he doesn’t punish you, I, as his stepmother, must. Otherwise, if the child is spoiled, how can I face Sister Wu?”
Le Wuyi bowed his head, pressing his hands on his knees.
The “Sister Wu” Lady Ye mentioned was his biological mother, whom he had never met.
Le Jue’s face turned pale, and he whispered, “Mother!” Why bring up something so sad for A Li for no reason!
Le Heng remained silent, placing his hand over Le Wuyi’s.
Lady Ye stepped closer and asked, “Am I wrong?”
Le Wuyi: “Mother is right. A Li has disappointed both mothers.”
Lady Ye glanced behind her, quickly pulled out a pair of thin, soft knee pads from her narrow sleeve, crouched down, and shoved them into Le Wuyi’s hands.
Le Wuyi accepted them just as quickly.
Their eyes met, each understanding the other tacitly with a wink.
Le Jue: “…” Huh?
While Le Jue was stunned, Le Heng quickly helped Le Wuyi put on the knee pads.
“…Enough.”
Le Qianzhang had changed out of his military armor, pushed aside the curtain, and was wiping his hands with a soft cloth. He asked, “Do you know what you did wrong?”
Le Wuyi: “Yes. Not studying the sages, not respecting the teacher, only focusing on trivial family matters, wasting time and losing ambition—utterly worthless, a great mistake.”
Having made a deep self-criticism, he lifted his face, innocent, and said, “But A Li wanted to make Father happy…”
Le Qianzhang: “…”
He looked at the sunset in the sky and forcibly kept his expression stern.
Le Heng took the opportunity to speak: “Father, A Li’s recitation is actually decent.”
With his cold, handsome face, he turned to Le Wuyi: “A Li, ‘Mencius,’ ‘Xianqiu Meng,’ recite.”
With his elder brother leading the way, Le Wuyi spoke without hesitation: “Xianqiu Meng asked: ‘It is said that a man of perfect virtue cannot be treated by his sovereign as a subject, nor by his father as a son…’”
He knelt properly on the ground and recited a long passage fluently.
Le Qianzhang could no longer maintain his stern facade.
He barely managed to say, “Is this today’s homework?”
Le Wuyi answered honestly: “No.”
Le Qianzhang: “Still go kneel in the ancestral hall. Don’t get up until you’ve memorized today’s lesson.”
Le Wuyi was delighted: “Thank you, Father!”
Recitation was the least of his worries, especially with the knee pads his mother had given him to cushion him—he wouldn’t suffer much.
After bidding farewell to their parents, Le Heng and Le Jue took him to the ancestral hall.
Le Jue still couldn’t figure it out: “How can Mother be strict one moment and lenient the next?”
Le Heng said little.
“Mother is on my side,” Le Wuyi explained, shaking his head smugly. “That talk was meant for Father, to make him spare me for the sake of Auntie Wu.”
Le Jue was speechless and turned to Le Heng: “Let’s still throw him in the well.”
Le Heng said tersely: “Let’s go.”
Le Wuyi grabbed their arms firmly: “No way. If I’m going down, I’m dragging you two along.”
Le Jue: “Were you a water monkey in a past life?!”
Le Heng seriously corrected his second brother: “Water monkeys are hearsay; absolutely unreliable.”
Le Jue rolled his eyes.
As they talked, they had passed the garden well.
Le Wuyi turned his head: “Hey, Big Brother, Second Brother, we passed the well.”
Le Jue: “Heh, are you actually hoping to be thrown in or what?”
Le Wuyi: “I’m a water monkey, so going in is like going home.”
Le Heng didn’t want Le Jue to corrupt his younger brother and patiently emphasized: “There’s no such thing as a water monkey.”
Le Jue: “How do you know? I heard Deputy Yu say he saw one while swimming in the river in Nanting County—huge.”
Le Heng: “See it with my own eyes, then catch it and show me.”
Le Jue lifted Le Wuyi up: “Isn’t this one? A Li, give Big Brother a cry.”
Le Wuyi cooperated perfectly: “Wah-wooh!!”
Le Heng: “…Even if it were a monkey, that’s not how they sound.”
Le Jue sneered: “Brother, you’re too particular.”
Le Wuyi had always had a good memory.
He remembered every casual word they exchanged along the way.
When he entered the ancestral hall, he read the tortuous, difficult poetic rhapsody the teacher had assigned for recitation from start to finish, then recited it fluently. He hasn’t forgotten it to this day.
Including two days later, when Le Heng actually borrowed a monkey from a classmate’s house, leading it on a multicolored rope, and carefully explained all sorts of knowledge about monkeys to Le Wuyi—he remembered that too.
What impressed him most was the day Le Qianzhang returned from the palace and ordered that the large persimmon Le Wuyi had picked be cut open. The whole family sat surrounded by the small garden, harmoniously sharing that persimmon.
The persimmon’s sweet, honey-like taste, even after Le Wuyi woke up, traveled from that distant past, moistening his tongue.
In the bright light of day, Le Wuyi turned over and sat up. After staring blankly for a long time, he got up to wash up, ready to reply to his two students.
He wrote swiftly, composing a neatly worded thank-you letter, addressed to the residence of Seventh Prince Xiang Zhijie in the capital, thanking him for the persimmon cakes.
But when it came to writing a reply to Sixth Prince, he held the brush for a long time, unsure of what to say.
Saying “thank you” or “I understand” would be like confessing outright.
Pretending to be puzzled and asking why he told him about the Le family’s affairs was too hypocritical.
Thinking left and right, unable to decide, Le Wuyi got annoyed and threw down his brush.
This Xiao Liu was too good at making things difficult.
Forget it, I won’t write!