Chapter 26

“You’re too kind, young friend.”

Lu Huaiyi’s innocent words brought a faint smile to Pei Zhang’s face, dispelling his earlier melancholy.

With growing interest, Pei Zhang asked, “I’ve heard that Master Lu… is rather strict?”

Understanding the unspoken implication, Lu Huaiyi shyly replied, “Master Pei, don’t worry. My father doesn’t concern himself with material things.”

While his father was strict about his studies, he was exceedingly generous regarding other aspects. The medicine Lu Huaiyi consumed was the rare Blood Ganoderma, a tribute from foreign nations, said to grow on perilous cliffs and only produce a single stalk after ten years. He had never been deprived of it. For his fourth birthday, his gift was an antique waist knife. Though the sheath appeared plain, the blade itself was sharp enough to cut through iron like mud and sever strands of hair with ease.

His father had remarked, “I hope my son will be like this blade—sharp and powerful, yet hiding his strength within.”

It was only later that Lu Huaiyi learned the knife had once been the prized possession of Tuyuhun’s Duojie Khan. His father had taken it during his first battle, venturing alone on horseback deep into enemy territory to behead Duojie, claiming the blade as a trophy.

Lu Huaiyi was his father’s eldest legitimate son and, so far, his only son. Fully aware of his physical frailty, Lu Huaiyi diligently compensated for it. When his handwriting was subpar, he would sleep half an hour later to practice ten more pages; when his father demanded he pull a bow thirty times daily, he would secretly pull it fifty times, even if his wrists became red and swollen.

Compared to his mother’s affectionate indulgence, Lu Huaiyi preferred his father’s strictness. His father never gave up on him because of his frail health, and Lu Huaiyi, in turn, did not want to disappoint his father’s expectations.

Having a father as renowned and formidable as Lu Feng, Lu Huaiyi often felt lonely.

In the household, as the eldest legitimate grandson of the main branch, he was young but held a high seniority. His older cousins found interacting with him too deferential, as if it would seem like flattery. They couldn’t lower themselves to that level. The younger ones treated him with utmost respect, but their relationship lacked true closeness. Even when he managed to find playmates of similar age, his weak constitution caused their parents to instruct them to cater to him in every way, always putting him first.

If his cousins within the household behaved this way, it was even more pronounced with outsiders. Although Lu Feng didn’t restrict his friendships, the children of noble families were all exceptionally shrewd from a young age, adept at reading people and situations.

Lu Huaiyi had joined the “small circles” of these noble children, where even the least prominent was the legitimate son of a second-ranking official, and the more distinguished included princes and royal offspring. Yet, even in such circles, Lu Huaiyi still felt different from the others. They went horseback riding or practiced archery but never invited him. When they practiced calligraphy together, he wrote slowly, and everyone seemed to slow down their movements deliberately.

Even when a group of boys spent idle time catching chickens or teasing dogs, the moment he arrived, they would scatter and start discussing music, chess, calligraphy, or poetry.

Lu Huaiyi was far from dull—in fact, he was exceptionally sharp and perceptive. Over time, he grew weary of remaining in a group where everyone catered to him. Without friends outside, he returned home to find his only companions were his page boy, Jiang Wanrou, and Lu Feng.

He couldn’t possibly share his inner thoughts with a page boy. Lu Feng was cold and imposing; Lu Huaiyi respected his father and did not dare to overstep. His mother, on the other hand, was gentle and kind, always willing to listen to him. But he was growing up, and as a boy, he had his own sense of pride. There were things he couldn’t bring himself to tell his mother.

Meeting Master Pei truly made him happy.

Master Pei didn’t flatter or ingratiate himself because of Lu Huaiyi’s father, nor did he look down on him because of his young age. He was both a mentor and a friend. Being around Master Pei felt refreshing and soothing, making Lu Huaiyi feel at ease and free.

Lu Huaiyi sincerely wanted to give Master Pei a gift.

Gold and silver seemed too vulgar, unworthy of someone as noble as Master Pei. After much thought, the only thing he could come up with was the book Zhuangzi’s Equality of Things that Master Pei often read. Unfortunately, with his limited knowledge, Lu Huaiyi couldn’t discern what made the book special.

He voiced his thoughts just as they came to him. When Pei Zhang met his bright, dark eyes, for some reason, he felt a twinge of unease and self-consciousness.

“There’s nothing particularly special about it. It’s just that the stories inside are interesting, wouldn’t you agree?”

Pei Zhang turned his head slightly, his slender, fair fingers flipping open the book and placing it in front of Lu Huaiyi.

“Look—’Once, Zhuang Zhou dreamt of being a butterfly. The butterfly flitted and danced, joyful and carefree, so much so that Zhuang Zhou forgot he was Zhuang Zhou.'”

“Upon awakening, I wonder—was it Zhuang Zhou dreaming of being a butterfly, or the butterfly dreaming of being Zhuang Zhou?”

“What do you think? Was he truly a butterfly or Zhuang Zhou?”

Pei Zhang’s expression turned melancholic, as he often felt that life seemed like a grand illusion, with everything around him being transient and unreal.

Lu Huaiyi, having only studied texts such as The Analects and Jade Forest for Young Learners, found Zhuangzi’s philosophy too profound and esoteric at his current level of understanding. He couldn’t fully grasp it.

Nevertheless, he pondered deeply and then earnestly said, “Whether a butterfly or Zhuang Zhou, isn’t he still himself?”

“When he is a butterfly, he freely enjoys the natural world and its freedom. When he is Zhuang Zhou, he must carry the responsibilities of being human. Regardless of the circumstances, as long as one stays true to their heart, they are at peace.”

Feeling a bit self-conscious, he scratched his head and added, “Master Pei, I… I’m truly foolish and can only comprehend this much.”

“Not at all. I see you as being profoundly wise despite your humility.”

Pei Zhang paused for a moment, then sighed deeply and said, “Your thoughts are pure, young friend. On the contrary, my mind is burdened with overthinking, making things more complicated.”

He muttered, “A great man navigating this world should always be true to his heart. Whether he is a butterfly or Zhuang Zhou, what difference does it make?”

“Perhaps I’ve been overly attached to appearances.”

Lu Huaiyi nodded, understanding only part of what Pei Zhang meant. He glanced at the tea cup in front of Pei Zhang, noticing it no longer emitted steam, and quickly said, “Master Pei, your tea has gone cold. Let me refill it for you.”

Before Pei Zhang could refuse, Lu Huaiyi had already stood up and grabbed the round-bellied purple clay teapot. Outside, spring was in full bloom, with radiant sunlight streaming through the window screens, casting a warm glow on the two of them. When standing, Lu Huaiyi was as tall as the seated Pei Zhang. The man’s face was as refined as jade, elegant and handsome, while the child’s lips were red, teeth white, and features exquisitely delicate.

On this quiet and serene afternoon, the atmosphere was exceptionally peaceful and leisurely.

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Today was the tenth day, a day of rest for officials. While Lu Huaiyi and Pei Zhang were at the bookstore reading and conversing, Lu Feng was neither at the residence nor the Jinglong Bureau. Instead, he had gone to a hidden alley in the southern part of the city.

In an inconspicuous courtyard, two red lanterns hung by the door. A maid with her hair styled in a traditional bun stood by the entrance, watching the distance. The moment she spotted a figure approaching, her eyes widened, and she hurriedly and eagerly welcomed him inside.

“Master, you’ve finally arrived! The mistress has been waiting for you for a long time. The dishes have already gone cold.”

“What’s the matter? Why call for me so urgently?” Lu Feng walked with steady steps, his official boots striking the bluestone path with a muffled sound that carried an inexplicable sense of authority.

The maid, recalling someone’s recent unfortunate fate, immediately held her breath and cautiously replied, “Master Lu, the mistress hasn’t been feeling well these past two days. She has been having headaches.”

“Headaches?” Lu Feng suddenly paused, his brows furrowing slightly. “Is it just this?”

The maid, intimidated by his gaze, quickly lowered her head to stare at her toes and stammered, “No… In addition to the headaches, the mistress… the mistress has been unable to eat, feels nauseous, and often struggles to sleep at night.”

“She’s feeling quite unwell.”

Hearing this, Lu Feng’s sharp brows furrowed even deeper, and he said coldly, “If she’s unwell, call for a doctor. Why call for me?”