Fortunately, Pei Yuan Jin also had a limit to how many times he would press a question and did not pursue it relentlessly. Fu Xi Yan relaxed slightly, grabbed a cushion, and was preparing to take a nap when he suddenly heard Pei Yuan Jin ask, “Why haven’t you been practicing lately?”
Fu Xi Yan sighed. “Whether I practice or not doesn’t make much difference.” His advancement depended entirely on whether his true origin felt charitable. It had absolutely nothing to do with how hardworking he was.
Pei Yuan Jin wanted to ask about the Gu inside him. “Is there anywhere your cultivation feels obstructed or difficult to resolve?”
“Not really.” Fu Xi Yan thought, It’s nothing more than tug-of-war. Come to think of it, when Tu Mu had nearly dug his true origin out of his body, whatever was inside the true origin had gone mad and released a huge amount of true qi. Unfortunately, Fu Xi Yan had been fighting for his life at the time and had not used that true qi to break through. Otherwise, his cultivation might already have risen another level.
Seeing that he did not elaborate, Pei Yuan Jin did not ask further. Before they left Willowwood Manor, Jiang Xiu had said that the Gu inside Fu Xi Yan was extremely docile. Although they still did not know what it was capable of, at least for the moment, it appeared harmless.
“A tree large enough to fill two arms begins from the tiniest shoot; a nine-story terrace rises from accumulated earth,” Pei Yuan Jin said. “Without accumulation, how can there be a breakthrough?”
Elio’s Notes: This paraphrases a passage from the Dao De Jing: great things begin from the smallest beginnings and are built through gradual accumulation.
Fu Xi Yan nodded. “Exactly. Quantitative change leads to qualitative change.”
“What does ‘quantitative change leads to qualitative change’ mean?”
The subject immediately energized Fu Xi Yan. “The principle applies to chemistry and politics alike. From a chemistry perspective, concentrated sulfuric acid can corrode copper, but dilute sulfuric acid can’t. Isn’t that quantitative change producing qualitative change?”
Pei Yuan Jin’s interest was unusually piqued. “What is sulfuric acid?”
“Apparently, you can obtain it by dry-distilling green vitriol, though I’ve never tried it. My grand manufacturing enterprise hasn’t reached the chemical-fertilizer stage yet.” Fu Xi Yan was deeply melancholy. He had read so many farming novels back then, yet none of that knowledge had found any use. He had finally managed to open an affordable-luxury shop selling soap, only to end up fleeing with the inventory.
Elio’s Notes: Green vitriol is an old name for ferrous sulfate. Historically, heating certain vitriols was one method used in producing sulfuric acid.
Pei Yuan Jin asked curiously, “How were you planning to ‘transform the fat’?”
“Huh?” Fu Xi Yan’s brain turned around one and a half times before he realized what Pei Yuan Jin meant, and he immediately became embarrassed and angry. “Chemical fertilizer! Fertilizer made through chemistry—for the fertility of the soil! Not transforming my fat!”
Elio’s Notes: 化肥 (huafei) is the standard abbreviation for “chemical fertilizer,” but the two characters can also be read literally as “transform fat.” Pei Yuan Jin deliberately—or perhaps innocently—misparses it.
With an expression clearly proclaiming I’m angry now, Fu Xi Yan turned away, shoved open the carriage door, used Treading the Void, skimmed past several horses ahead of them, and landed on Fu Xia Qing’s carriage.
Fu Xia Qing’s maid heard the movement and opened the door to look outside. “Fourth Young Master? You…”
Fu Xi Yan jumped. “Why is there a girl in your carriage?”
Fu Xia Qing poked her head out, somewhat exasperated. “What kind of question is that? If there isn’t a girl in my carriage, who exactly should be in here?”
Fu Xi Yan could hardly drive the maid out and seize her place, so he awkwardly prepared to leave. Then he noticed that Fu Xia Qing’s eyes were slightly red, as though she had been crying, and stopped. “Why were you crying?”
Fu Xia Qing said, “Who told you to open the door? Sand blew into my eyes.”
Because a mature soul lived inside his body, Fu Xi Yan was fine treating his two elder brothers like brothers. But with this elder sister who had grown up alongside him, he had always unconsciously spoiled her more like a younger sister. He immediately said repeatedly, “Fine, fine, my fault. Then tell me which grain of sand your eye couldn’t tolerate. I’ll blow it away for you.”
Fu Xia Qing said, “Why would I need you to blow it away? It’s already gone.”
Fu Xi Yan could tell she was saying one thing while feeling another. With his back to the road, he crouched down and asked, “Because of Grand Commandant Liu?”
Fu Xia Qing said softly, “The Grand Commandant sacrificed himself for the state. I feel nothing but admiration.”
“Then is it because of… Liu Huan?” Their entire family was heading to the southern frontier, so Fu Xia Qing’s marriage to Liu Huan would most likely become a bargaining chip in negotiations between the two sides. It was not that the Fu family did not love its children or wanted to use her as a pawn. The marriage had simply undergone so many twists that the future relationship between the Liu and Fu families, Grand Commandant Liu’s final wishes, and the emperor’s intentions had all become entangled in it until the match no longer resembled the simple marriage it had once been.
Fu Xia Qing had clearly been struck directly in the heart. She said gloomily, “Our whole family is going there to seek refuge. I don’t know what he’ll think of me.”
Compared with Tie Rong Rong, Fu Xia Qing was obviously the typical well-bred young lady of this era.
Although she had not been particularly satisfied with Liu Huan at first, she had gradually begun thinking of him as her future husband in accordance with her parents’ wishes. Had everything proceeded smoothly, she would have become Madam Liu in the ordinary course of events.
Who could have expected yet another complication?
Her marriage had already suffered one upheaval, and now another had arrived. It was only natural that she felt miserable and distressed. Her father, Fu Fu, was broad-minded to the point of carelessness, while her mother was a concubine with little authority to speak. With all those knots of worry inside her, Fu Xia Qing could only digest them by herself.
Feeling sorry for her, Fu Xi Yan said gently, “You don’t need to care what he thinks of you. What matters is what you think of him. If you don’t like him, I’ll find you someone better.”
Fu Xia Qing flushed scarlet and regretted saying so much. “Don’t talk nonsense.”
“I’m not talking nonsense at all. Who knows how many disciples the Immortal Treasury Palace has? Are you telling me there isn’t even one good-looking, cultured, upright man among them?” Fu Xi Yan declared solemnly. “When the time comes, I’ll make them line up like geese—first in a V, then in a straight line—and you can hold your own selection.”
Fu Xia Qing could not help laughing. “What kind of bizarre arrangement is that?”
“It’s called the Broken Goose, Lone Swan Formation. Don’t worry about whether it makes sense. As long as you find one you like, I’ll immediately send Pei Yuan Jin to propose marriage. Let’s see whether Liu Huan dares say a word!”
Fu Xia Qing knew he was joking, but she was still comforted. “Since you have such a mouthful of crooked theories, why waste them on me? You should go say them to Eldest Brother.”
Fu Xi Yan looked puzzled. “Why Eldest Brother?”
Fu Xia Qing said tactfully, “Eldest Brother was supposed to prepare for the spring Metropolitan Examination. Now he has to leave the capital.”
Fu Xi Yan understood immediately. Everyone in the Fu family had originally had their own path and ambitions, and now all of them had been interrupted. The Metropolitan Examination only came once every three years. The time cost alone was enormous. He knew Madam Fu and Fu Li An had placed very high hopes on this year’s examination.
“All right. I’ll go talk some sense into Eldest Brother. And you’re not allowed to cry anymore.” He turned to the maid. “If your young lady cries again, tell me. Don’t let her hide in the carriage and cry until she ruins her eyes.”
Fu Xi Yan jumped down from the carriage, then turned and headed toward the study carriage occupied by Fu Li An and Fu Chen Xing.
Fu Chen Xing was swaying his head as he recited his lessons, while Fu Li An sat with his head lowered, carving a seal.
Fu Xi Yan brought a gust of cold air in with him. Fu Li An immediately picked up a blanket and covered Fu Chen Xing before scolding Fu Xi Yan, “If we’re traveling, then travel. Why are you hopping from carriage to carriage?”
Fu Xi Yan came in rubbing his hands and pinched several pastries from a box nearby. “Sitting in a carriage makes my back and waist ache. Who knows how much longer we’ll be traveling? I came out to move around before my muscles stiffen.”
Fu Chen Xing obediently started twisting his neck and arms.
Fu Li An had no objection to that. “We’re going to Shiquan County first, then boarding a boat at Lianhua Ferry.”
“A boat sounds good.” Fu Xi Yan said it dryly while looking around. Seeing various seals arranged before Fu Li An, he picked one up. “You like carving these?”
“I always have. I set it aside for a while because I was preparing for the Metropolitan Examination.”
Since Fu Li An himself had mentioned the examination, Fu Xi Yan followed naturally. “Personally, I don’t see what’s so great about the Metropolitan Examination. People say, ‘Master civil and martial arts, then sell them to the imperial house.’ But if the emperor is a terrible buyer, that just gets you cheated.”
Fu Li An held the seal up and examined it from different angles. “You came to comfort me?”
Fu Xi Yan hurriedly said, “Of course not. Eldest Brother is resolute, generous, exceptionally talented, and virtuous. Why would you need me to say anything? It’s just that… all of this started because of me.”
“It has nothing to do with you.” Fu Li An put down the seal and said calmly, “Our family was already a chess piece the emperor had his eye on. Whether you were involved or not, he would still manipulate us. If anything, Young Palace Master Pei’s connection to you gave our family several additional bargaining chips. It forced the emperor to restrain himself and bought us quite a bit of time.”
Fu Xi Yan said, “But I still got tangled up in the Southern Yu spy-network case. If that hadn’t happened, maybe our family could have kept lying low a little longer.”
Fu Li An said, “With the Chen and Rong families leaving the stage one after another, the emperor has already achieved his goals of eliminating dissent and frightening the other great clans and nobles into submission. They’ll all behave themselves for quite some time. Count Yongfeng’s Estate, as a giant target, has lost much of its original usefulness. But Father and Uncle have already risen to important positions, and the emperor will never sit by and watch the Fu family continue expanding. Even if nothing had happened to you, I would have been suppressed once I entered the Metropolitan Examination. Rather than that, leaving the capital may actually be a way out.”
As the legitimate eldest son of the family, Fu Li An had grown up carrying expectations and pressure fundamentally different from Fu Xi Yan and Fu Dong Wen, so naturally he viewed the matter from a different angle. Fu Xi Yan was thinking from Fu Li An’s personal perspective and worried that missing this Metropolitan Examination would waste three years of his life. Fu Li An, however, considered the entire situation. From Haojing’s political climate and the Fu family’s position within it, he had already predicted what would happen even if he took the examination. He sincerely believed the family would have better prospects by moving south.
Fu Xi Yan rested his chin in his hand and studied him. “You’re really not upset?”
Fu Li An said, “Instead of wasting time worrying about me, you should spend more time with the Young Palace Master. When you were arrested, he broke into the imperial palace for you.”
“Fuck, seriously?” Fu Xi Yan stared at him, dumbfounded.
Back when Shou Nan Shan had offered to take Fu Xi Yan storming into the palace, Fu Xi Yan had been frightened but still harbored a little doubt, thinking Shou Nan Shan was merely bluffing. He had never imagined the Immortal Treasury Palace truly dared do it!
Fu Li An said, “Uncle witnessed it himself. One man, one sword. He challenged Song Qi Yun, the Heaven-Earth Mirror’s first disciple, despite being a full level below him, and even left a sword mark across the plaque of Yanying Hall. Since the founding of Northern Zhou, he might well be the bravest man ever to charge in alone.”
…
That familiar music seemed to start playing beside Fu Xi Yan’s ears.
Love you, walking alone through dark alleys…
Elio’s Notes: Fu Xi Yan is mentally invoking a line from the song Lone Warrior, which celebrates someone advancing alone despite danger and isolation.
He had no idea whether the emphasis of that lyric was supposed to be on “love you” or “alone.”
For him, there was only one important point—
Pei Yuan Jin must have looked insanely cool!
Just imagining it made his blood boil. He bitterly regretted not being there in person to scream and cheer him on.
Fu Xi Yan covered his face. “Now I believe every man has a sleeping maiden’s heart inside him!” His own was currently beating in a decidedly abnormal way.
Fu Li An looked at him in disbelief. “What kind of discovery is that?”
“Think about it. One man alone, breaking into the imperial palace and fighting a duel atop the Forbidden City—isn’t that the highest possible level of showing off for a man?” Fu Xi Yan looked positively yearning.
Fu Li An asked, “What is the Forbidden City?”
Oh, right. Youzhou was still a place of exile at the moment. Naturally, there was no Forbidden City either. The question almost broke Fu Xi Yan’s emotional momentum. “That’s not important. What matters is challenging Song Qi Yun across levels… Song Qi Yun has to be at least Martial King level, right? Just thinking about it is unbearably cool!” He would never accuse Pei Yuan Jin of merely showing off again. The man genuinely had the goods!
Elio’s Notes: “A duel atop the Forbidden City” evokes a famous wuxia image associated with a climactic duel at the imperial palace. Fu Xi Yan immediately remembers that the historical Forbidden City does not exist in this setting.
Fu Li An stared speechlessly at his wildly excited expression. “Then why are you still sitting in my carriage?”
Fu Xi Yan pressed a hand against his chest. “No. I can’t go back yet.”
He was too carried away right now.
When people got carried away, they became impulsive.
And impulse was the devil.
He took a deep breath.
Fu Li An pulled a chicken-blood stone seal from a small box beside him and handed it over. “This seal is for you.”
Elio’s Notes: Chicken-blood stone is a prized Chinese ornamental stone named for its vivid red markings and has traditionally been used for carving seals.
“Huh? Oh, thanks, Eldest Brother.” Fu Xi Yan took it and looked at the inscription carved into it.
“Private Seal of the Immortal Treasury Palace’s Young Madam.”
…
He had been called Young Madam so many times that he had gone from embarrassment and gloom to numb acceptance.
Only this time, for some very peculiar reason, he felt a tiny spark of delight hidden beneath his accelerating heartbeat.
…
Apparently, when a person got carried away, even their heartbeat stopped belonging to them.
He dazedly tucked the seal into his robes. As he withdrew his hand, he happened to touch a book hidden inside. The excitement and cheers in his heart abruptly received the equivalent of an orange cold-wave warning, and his mind instantly cooled.
After thinking for a moment, he took the book out.
Seeing him pull a book from his clothes, the studious Fu Li An and Fu Chen Xing both leaned closer curiously.
Fu Xi Yan immediately put a finger to his lips.
Five characters were clearly written across the cover—
Introduction to the Puppet Arts.
Seeing that it was neither some strange book nor a rare lost volume, Fu Li An and Fu Chen Xing immediately lost interest and leaned back again.
Fu Xi Yan stroked the cover thoughtfully.
Based on all the clues so far, he was eighty or ninety percent certain that his biological mother—the so-called Concubine Bai—was Jin Yuan Xiu, the final disciple of Mo Xiao Ran, Sect Master of the Puppet Path.
Although he still did not know why she had married into Count Yongfeng’s Estate, Fu Xi Yan believed the truth must be far more complicated than he imagined and might even be intimately connected to the abnormality in his true origin.
If that premise was correct, then Tie Rong Rong’s attempts to kill him and the white-robed man’s repeated rescues and gift of this book could both be reasonably explained. The former had a grudge against his mother, while the latter had been close to her. Mo Xiao Ran had four disciples whose surnames corresponded to iron, copper, silver, and gold. The white-robed man wore a golden mask. Did that mean his connection to Fu Xi Yan’s mother was especially significant? And his martial arts were stronger than Tie Rong Rong’s, Tu Mu’s, and Chen Wen Ju’s… which meant there could not be very many candidates.
Because Fu Xi Yan retained memories of his previous life, he did not divide orthodox and unorthodox factions purely according to martial arts or sect.
The “Gentleman Sword” Yue Buqun and Five Mountains Alliance Chief Zuo Lengchan were perfect examples. Yes, they were fictional characters, but fiction came from life. Was there any shortage of two-faced people in the real world? So Fu Xi Yan had no inherent aversion to studying puppet arts. Translate it into game terminology and it was basically playing a summoner. Wasn’t that an amazing class?
He thought it sounded excellent.
And he had secretly flipped through the first few pages. Puppet arts and the Martial Path did not conflict. In other words, learning puppet arts did not require him to cripple his martial arts and start over from scratch. They were more like chemistry and physics, or language and history: two subjects that could be cultivated simultaneously and might even complement each other.
Wasn’t that amazing?
Even more amazing!
The only thing that troubled him—and the reason he remained undecided—was the Immortal Treasury Palace’s hostility toward the Puppet Path. He had heard Aunt Yu say it herself, and the jianghu rumors Fu Xuan had heard repeatedly confirmed the same thing.
Only because Mo Xiao Ran had entered the Heaven-Earth Mirror and the Immortal Treasury Palace did not wish to plunge the jianghu into chaos had they refrained from exterminating his faction completely. Yet Tie Rong Rong had entered the palace as a consort, Tong Fang Yu had fled far into the western frontier, Yin Fei Yu had changed her name and identity, and Jin Yuan Xiu had vanished without a trace. From all of that, it was easy to infer that the martial world of the Central Plains had never stopped hunting the remaining “remnants” of the Puppet Path.
If Fu Xi Yan learned puppet arts, would Pei Yuan Jin uphold righteousness by eliminating his own kin?
Even if Pei Yuan Jin did not, what about his father? What about the elders? A sect with tens of thousands of disciples naturally had tens of thousands of opinions. Even if Fu Xi Yan somehow managed to keep his life, who knew what sort of existence awaited him?
Crippled cultivation.
Imprisonment for life.
…
He imagined countless possibilities and shuddered.
He could hardly be blamed for worrying about gains and losses. After all… the novels and television dramas from his previous life had taught him that if a person failed to plan ahead, trouble would soon come knocking!
Fu Chen Xing secretly watched Fourth Brother’s rapidly changing expressions and became a little frightened, quietly shifting closer to Fu Li An.
Fu Li An patted his youngest brother, then looked at Fu Xi Yan. “One moment you’re delighted, the next you’re miserable. Are you worrying about the joys and sorrows of everyone under Heaven?”
Fu Xi Yan sighed. “Am I worthy of that? I’m not. I can barely keep up with my own problems.”
After being an elder brother for so many years, Fu Li An could naturally see where his younger brother’s dilemma lay. “You’re deciding whether to read that book?”
Fu Xi Yan immediately made an urgent shushing gesture. He had no idea how far Pei Yuan Jin’s hearing extended and did not dare take the risk.
Fu Li An said calmly, “It’s only an erotic picture book. Why are you so nervous?”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
That cover story is also… deeply embarrassing.
“People generally hesitate for one of two reasons. Either they want to do something but there is risk involved, or they do not want to do it but there is some benefit in doing so. Which are you?”
Fu Xi Yan tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Since it’s an erotic picture book, obviously the first.”
Fu Li An said, “Oh. Then what’s the risk? You’re afraid someone will find out?”
…
Somehow, even with the completely wrong subject attached to the argument, the conversation still worked.
Fu Xi Yan nodded. “You could say that.”
Fu Li An continued reasoning from there. “Are you afraid of Father finding out, or Young Palace Master Pei?”
Seeing Fu Xi Yan remain silent, Fu Li An understood. “If you want to look, then look.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Didn’t this conclusion skip several stages of reasoning? Why am I completely unable to follow it?
Fu Li An said, “If you’re frightened and yet still hesitating, then you genuinely want to look. So just don’t get caught.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Just don’t get caught?
That made sense.
Studying puppet arts did not require him to cripple his martial arts. He could simply practice secretly. Having more skills never hurt, and one day it might even save his life. Truthfully, Fu Xi Yan already knew that once a manual like Introduction to the Puppet Arts reached his hands, sooner or later he was going to read it. He merely needed one final straw to crush the camel carrying all the weight in his heart.
Fu Xi Yan gave Fu Li An, who had supplied that final push, a thumbs-up.
Fu Li An was satisfied. Naturally, comforting someone should be an elder brother’s job. How could a younger brother be allowed to overstep and do it in his place?
With Fu Li An covering for him, Fu Xi Yan finally began reading in peace.
The Complete Compendium of the Jianghu left behind by his mother had once described the Puppet Path’s four levels in detail. From lowest to highest, they were the Dead-Puppet Master, who controlled inanimate objects; the Familiar Master, who controlled animals and plants; the Puppet King, who controlled human souls; and the Saint Master, who corresponded to the Martial God level.
The power of a Saint Master could be summarized in one sentence—
All things could be commanded.
Jianghu rumor claimed that Mo Xiao Ran had already reached this level, yet the Complete Compendium of the Jianghu stated that it was beyond human reach, seemingly implying that Mo Xiao Ran had not.
The Complete Compendium of the Jianghu did not explain how to cultivate puppet arts. Perhaps whoever wrote it had felt he was too young at the time and feared that someone else might see it and bring trouble upon him. But it did explain the underlying secret of puppet cultivation: all things possessed spirit; command the spirit and make it serve. After reading that book, then turning to Introduction to the Puppet Arts, the obscure terminology and strange routes for circulating true qi suddenly began fitting together.
The Martial Path cultivated the self. True Origin, Bone Forging, Vajra… every stage strengthened one’s own physical foundation. Above that came Mortal-Shedding and Dao-Entry. Just from the names, one could tell that martial cultivators were attempting to cast off their mortal flesh and step into a deeper level of existence.
If one had questions about the Martial Path’s higher levels, perhaps puppet arts could be used to reason backward and understand them.
Puppet arts drew spiritual power from all things. Pebbles on the ground, inconspicuous flowers beside the road, galloping horses, nobles and commoners… all things possessed spirit. And this spiritual power was denser, richer, and easier to capture than the intangible spiritual energy floating through the air. Puppet arts appeared to control physical bodies, but what they truly manipulated was the spiritual power contained within all things themselves.
Thinking backward from that point, the meaning of Mortal-Shedding and Dao-Entry on the Martial Path became clearer. Once the body had been cultivated to a sufficient level of strength, martial cultivation began cultivating the human soul. Fu Xi Yan still did not know why the body and soul were not cultivated simultaneously, or why the body had to come first. But based on his current understanding, the Martial Path produced warriors while puppet arts produced summoners. Cultivate both, and he could fight, tank damage, summon allies, and gang up on people as a group.
Pure bliss.
By evening, they had made camp, and cooking smoke curled into the air.
Because they were rushing to make progress, lunch had consisted only of dry rations. Naturally, dinner needed to be both delicious and satisfying.
The steward had sent people to nearby villages to buy chickens, ducks, fish, eggs, and brightly colored vegetables. Fu Xi Yan stared eagerly at a roasting chicken wing. He had asked Madam Fu for some honey syrup and brushed it over the surface twice. The glossy sheen alone was enough to make his mouth water.
After finally waiting until it was cooked through, Fu Xi Yan took it down and patiently blew on it with his mouth. Then a patch of black fabric appeared at the edge of his vision.
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
There was a special kind of awkwardness that came from wanting to keep food entirely for yourself while someone stood beside you clearly waiting for you to share.
Fu Xi Yan slowly turned his head.
Pei Yuan Jin was seated nearby, silently looking at him.
“Want some?”
Even as he asked, Fu Xi Yan’s mind was wondering whether any tiny droplets of saliva had flown out while he was blowing on the chicken wing. If there had been saliva, would Pei Yuan Jin mind? And if Pei Yuan Jin minded—
“Thank you.” Pei Yuan Jin simply took it.
Perhaps Fu Xi Yan’s pitiful, longing stare was too obvious. Pei Yuan Jin tore off a strip of meat and gave it back to him.
Touched, Fu Xi Yan accepted it and stuffed it into his mouth. Sweet, tender, fragrant—it was incredibly delicious. He could not help chewing slowly and savoring every bite. By the time he finished, only two perfectly clean bones remained in Pei Yuan Jin’s hand. Evidently, Pei Yuan Jin had been quite satisfied too.
Pei Yuan Jin wiped his hands with a silk handkerchief and asked as casually as though making conversation, “Was the erotic picture book you were reading about a man and woman, or two men?”
Fu Xi Yan’s smile vanished instantly.
I know you might have overheard us, but isn’t this the sort of thing we’re supposed to silently pretend never happened? Why did you listen and then come over to discuss the contents?!
Fu Xi Yan said guiltily, “I wasn’t reading one. Don’t make things up.”
He was not feeling guilty about “reading an erotic picture book.” The problem was that he had absolutely no way to conjure one out of thin air. At that moment, he could not help thinking that Eldest Brother had made one tiny mistake in an otherwise meticulous plan: he had invented the excuse but forgotten the prop. Just as Fu Xi Yan was lamenting this, Fu Li An strolled over at a leisurely pace and handed him a small booklet. “You left this in the carriage.”
Fu Xi Yan stared blankly at him.
Don’t tell me this booklet is…
Fu Li An blinked at him with a look that could only be understood and never spoken aloud. For a married man like him, finding such a booklet was not difficult.
Fu Xi Yan swallowed, resisted the urge to open it on the spot, and silently tucked the booklet into his sleeve. Then he turned toward Pei Yuan Jin as though nothing had happened, somehow looking even guiltier. “Seriously, there wasn’t one.”
Pei Yuan Jin reached into a cloth pouch beside him and took out two booklets, handing them to Fu Xi Yan.
“This?” Fu Xi Yan accepted them hesitantly.
Pei Yuan Jin said, “Two men.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
He could spare the Confucian scholars from being buried, but he sincerely wanted to burn the books.
Elio’s Notes: Fu Xi Yan is twisting the historical phrase 焚书坑儒, “burn the books and bury the Confucian scholars,” traditionally associated with Qin Shi Huang. In his version, the scholars can live—but the books absolutely need to burn.
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