The blacksmith Wang’s family didn’t have a small amount of stuff; all sorts of odds and ends filled a mule cart.
As for the house and land, it was impossible to sell them on short notice, so Wang only told the villagers that they were going out to visit relatives with an indefinite return date.
Leaving in such a hurry, everyone assumed that his family had struck up a connection with a wealthy relative.
The mule cart wobbled along the ridge, with Wang enduring his wife’s complaints as he hurried on.
The swordsman was penniless, so Mo Li lent him three taels of silver. The swordsman used it as a travel gift for the Wang family, considering they had a whole family to support on the road and would need money for many things.
As soon as this family, along with the swordsman escorting them, left, the courtyard immediately felt much emptier.
Mo Li leisurely used the remaining firewood in Wang’s house to light the stove and cooked a pot of porridge so thin it could barely reflect an image like a mirror.
——There was no other choice; only that much rice was left.
From rolling up his sleeves to start the fire to lifting the lid off the pot, everything was done calmly and without much effort, and soon, a pot of steaming porridge was ready.
Meng Qi didn’t just sit idle; he went to the well to wash the bowls.
The well wasn’t in Wang’s courtyard but at the village entrance.
The women and young maidens doing laundry there were initially shocked, but couldn’t resist secretly sneaking glances.
First, they had never seen such a handsome young man; second, which family’s man would be washing dishes himself? Could it be that there were no womenfolk in his household?
Before they had time to inquire about the background of this stranger, Meng Qi had already walked off.
The Confucian robe he wore this morning, embroidered with golden osmanthus, had inevitably picked up some dust during the scuffle at the Chenghuang Temple. It was still wearable, but not as eye-catching as before. However, no matter what, this was a style of attire meant for someone who had passed the imperial exams, making the villagers hesitant to approach him casually for a chat.
So Meng Qi walked ahead, with a line of people trailing behind him.
When they saw Meng Qi enter Wang’s courtyard, and then heard from the neighbors that Wang had taken his family out to visit relatives, they suspected that Wang had rented out his house to outsiders.
Lady Liu, dragging her body weakened by internal injuries, stood stiffly at the door, stalling the villagers who had gathered around:
“… I’m an old neighbor of Blacksmith Wang from the city… yes, yes, also a distant relative. Auntie, you’re joking; if we were renting the place, we’d have to inform the village head or the security team first. How could we just move in without a word? We’re not staying long, just resting for a bit… When will we leave? Either tomorrow or the day after…”
The villagers all expressed regret, whispered among themselves for a while, and then dispersed.
A few women who were reluctant to leave and wanted to pry more information from Lady Liu were met with a closed door.
“What powerful relatives could a blacksmith have?”
“Bah, looking down on people with their dog’s eyes!”
The village women took Lady Liu to be a servant. Although they were quite displeased, they also knew that it was unlikely for their own sisters, daughters, or nieces to marry into a scholar’s family, so after some grumbling, they left.
Lady Liu squatted behind the door, inwardly complaining about the unnecessary trouble Meng Qi had brought back by going out for a stroll. However, she dared not show any emotion on her face.
To be honest, she couldn’t quite understand why, when Shopkeeper Sun could send people at any time to abduct Wang, these two were casually washing dishes and cooking porridge?
It’s not that people of the martial world don’t eat, but when there’s a task at hand, everyone usually eats cold food with water. There was clearly nothing edible left in the house. Wang’s wife was a frugal woman and had taken everything she could, including oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar. The kitchen was empty, except for some dusty old bowls that weren’t used often and a handful of rice that might have been forgotten at the bottom of a jar.
Why go to the trouble of fetching water, washing dishes, and cooking? Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the enemy to arrive?
No.
From Mo Li’s perspective, if you’re idle anyway and there’s rice, why not cook a meal?
Whether it’s a dragon vein or the top martial artist in the world, life still has to go on.
“Smells good.”
As soon as Meng Qi entered, he sniffed the air and strolled into the kitchen, placing the bowls on the stove.
“Common millet, where’s the fragrance?” Mo Li thought to himself, considering that he hadn’t added any oil to the porridge.
“Is that even a question? When cooked by the doctor’s hands, if it’s not medicinal, it’s either bitter or fragrant.”
The National Teacher, while complimenting, didn’t forget to complain about the bitter medicine that Mo Li had brewed.
Hearing this, Mo Li paused and mused, “To be honest, Brother Meng, I’m actually quite good at making medicinal porridge…”
Before he could finish, his right hand was pressed down by Meng Qi.
Meng Qi, very composed, coughed lightly and said, “Adding herbs is too much trouble. We’re already starving; we’re just waiting for this porridge, Doctor.”
He then selected two larger bowls, filled them to the brim with porridge, and Mo Li carried one in each hand. When he came out and saw Lady Liu’s complicated expression, he said indifferently, “There are bowls on the stove. If you’re hungry, go serve yourself. You still need to recover.”
Lady Liu had no appetite at all. She suspected that soon, her master would arrive with even more elite fighters. At that point, even if there were dragon liver and phoenix gall in the pot, she wouldn’t be able to eat it.
“N-no… no need.” Lady Liu started to refuse, but when she met Mo Li’s gaze, she immediately fell silent.
Although Meng Qi would have preferred the entire pot of porridge to be just for himself and the doctor, as the dragon vein of Taijing, he wasn’t that childish—there would be plenty of opportunities for Mo Li to make porridge in the future. So, when he saw Lady Liu lower her head and silently head to the kitchen, he found it rather amusing.
He was gloating.
Meng Qi noticed that the most impressive skill Mo Li had learned from Qin Lu was actually intimidating disobedient patients.
No matter who it was, being coldly stared at would make them feel a deep sense of shame, so much so that they couldn’t even lift their heads under the heavy pressure.
Speaking of which, Mo Li would make an excellent Confucian teacher.
Meng Qi couldn’t help but think that if they had met earlier, he would have become the National Teacher while the doctor would have become the Emperor’s tutor.
Mo Li wasn’t like those old-fashioned Confucians, nor was he like Meng Qi’s old friends who were worried about princes fighting for the throne, deliberately neglecting or suppressing the other princes while only nurturing the crown prince to be a dragon among men.
The so-called Three Bonds and Five Constants—because everyone adhered to these, the Crown Prince of Chu, intelligent and exceptional in both civil and martial arts, was widely regarded by both the court and the people as the rightful heir. Yet, in the end, the Crown Prince suddenly died of illness, and those princes who never expected to sit on the throne were overjoyed, while Li Yuanze suddenly realized that all his sons were utterly useless…
No, if Mo Li had been the Imperial Tutor, the Crown Prince might not have died.
As Meng Qi thought about this, he got lost in his thoughts and nearly bumped into the table.
——Fortunately, his subconscious reflexes as a skilled martial artist saved him.
Mo Li turned his head helplessly and pressed Meng Qi down to sit.
Strangely enough, Mo Li felt that when he was with Meng Qi, the dynamics kept changing. Sometimes Meng Qi’s eyes were clear and proud, exuding confidence as if he understood everything and could see through people’s hearts, making others naturally rely on him for decisions; other times, Meng Qi was so unreliable that someone had to be there to watch him closely, as he couldn’t be left alone for a moment. If left unsupervised, he would cause trouble, like wearing a faded robe and still managing to fool a master into achieving a breakthrough…
What was even stranger was that Mo Li found himself enjoying this situation.
He didn’t feel any inconsistency between “unconditionally trusting Meng Qi” and “teasing a sand rat.”
After all, if it were only the former, Mo Li might feel like he had gained a respected elder rather than a lover. An elder feels distant, but a lover is different.
“Sit tight. This table has a broken leg and is unstable. If you bump it again, it’ll fall apart.” Mo Li handed the bowl to Meng Qi, signaling, “There are no chopsticks, so just drink it as it is.”
After all, it was mostly water.
Meng Qi looked at the bowl and thought this was too thin; even during the wars, when they were short on military rations, they hadn’t had porridge this watery.
Mo Li sat across from Meng Qi and said at the right moment, “I had thought of using some copper coins to exchange with the neighbors for some rice, vegetables, and pickles, but seeing how many people you attracted just by going out once, I decided against it.”
Among the villagers that Lady Liu had just fended off, there were indeed some who were eager to inquire about their ancestry for three generations and immediately propose marriage.
“Not bad. If they saw the doctor, the number of visitors would immediately double,” Meng Qi nodded seriously, holding the bowl as if it were a fine celadon teacup, savoring the porridge while saying, “People like the doctor and me, untainted by the mundane, can only find true freedom by retreating to the mountains and forests.”
Lady Liu, who had just come out of the kitchen with a bowl: “…”
If the two people at the table weren’t drinking thin porridge, those words might be more believable.
Meng Qi leisurely “savored his tea,” drinking while swaying his head and closing his eyes to gently sigh, “The blazing sun burns like fire, the crops in the fields half-withered. The farmer’s heart boils like a cauldron, while the noble sons fan themselves… Sigh, which storybook is this from?”
“The Birthday Heist?”
Mo Li glanced up, having just felt a faint cool breeze?
No doubt about it, someone was on the roof!
“The noble sons don’t know the farmer’s hardships, but the farmers dream of living like the noble sons. While the doctor and I are so hot we don’t even want to leave the house, someone is still full of grand plans for restoring a kingdom. Climbing onto the roof under such a scorching sun, from the look of things, you intend to start a second fight, huh?” Meng Qi continued to enjoy his porridge, decisively saying, “Not going, it’s too hot!”
The person with the straw hat on the roof: “…”
The person in the straw hat remained patient, standing there without saying a word.
Meng Qi continued reciting, “First bitter, then sweet, like a mountain stream, tea from the mist of paradise… this sip, it penetrates deep into the lungs, making one feel ethereal, a cool breeze that can’t be exchanged for any other.”
Mo Li hesitated to speak.
Lady Liu, leaning against the wall and trembling with fear, couldn’t help but glance at the bowl in her hand. She thought to herself, if I didn’t know this was a bowl of thin porridge, I might actually believe this nonsense about good tea.
“No need to worry, Doctor. That thief is alone,” Meng Qi said with great interest, and even went on to comfort Mo Li, “We drove away the swordsman, which might be exactly what he wanted. The strength he’s accumulated over decades to restore the kingdom can’t withstand great losses, and now he just wants to lure us away!”
Meng Qi’s actions made it clear—he wasn’t leaving.
With the doctor’s porridge, he didn’t even want to step outside.
Mo Li worried that the person in the straw hat might get so angry that they’d destroy the village or the houses, and besides, staying here wouldn’t prevent Shopkeeper Sun from escaping.
Meng Qi gave Mo Li a look and then wrote three characters on the table with his finger.
Fengxing Pavilion.
Last night, the people from Fengxing Pavilion escaped, and their leader, Qiu Jing, isn’t one to take a loss quietly. As long as they quickly mobilize their forces and launch a counterattack, Shopkeeper Sun and his group might not be able to escape smoothly. Because the biggest and most threatening person is standing right above them!
Meng Qi appeared relaxed, but he had already gathered his full inner strength, ready to act at any moment.
Mo Li slowly put down his bowl, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“National Teacher Meng, we can talk,” came the cold, eerie voice of the person in the straw hat from the roof.
Before Meng Qi could respond, he hissed like a venomous snake and spoke again, as if a strange wind was passing through the cracks in the stones, “Let’s talk about the dragon vein.”
Author’s Note:
Sand Rat: Happily drinking porridge, legs crossed.jpg
