Chapter 462: Reason

Chapter 462: The Reason

In response to his wife’s words, the scholar did not reply. Instead, he walked outside and picked up a basket, climbing nimbly up the bamboo ladder to the roof to gather radishes.

After lingering over his clothes, the scholar turned toward dinner. Only when he saw the chicken floating in the broth did his expression lighten slightly.

After eating, he threw his bowl and chopsticks onto the table, placed his hands behind his back, and stepped out.

The evening light had just begun to fade, casting a golden hue across his face—making it even more yellow.

A crisp white radish slice came tumbling down from above, landing squarely in his back pocket. “Wash dishes! What are you standing there for?”

“Ow, ow!” He reached into his shirt with one hand while rushing out of the courtyard.

He walked all the way to the left side of the Bai Clan Ancestral Hall, then let out an exasperated huff toward the direction of his own house. “Hmph! As the sages said, women and petty men are hard to manage indeed~”

Straightening the wrinkles on his robe, the scholar turned to walk away when a servile face suddenly startled him.

“Hehehe~ Master Wu, going to teach today? Let’s go together,” said Lü ZHUANGYUAN, holding his grandson with a smile.

The scholar looked at Lü ZHUANGYUAN with disdain before walking toward the private school.

“Teaching? They’re too good for that. I can only enlighten them—open their minds! Each one is so dull, like playing music to a cow.”

“Hehehe, yes, yes, they’re all past their prime now, none of them were born to be scholars or win the top prize. Our child here is still young enough to learn reading and writing!” Lü ZHUANGYUAN proudly lifted the baby in his arms.

“I’ve told you so many times—don’t bring babies under a year old to the school! They don’t understand anything I say!”

“Oh, Master Wu, this baby is just learning to speak now. Listening to the sages’ words won’t hurt, maybe he’ll pick something up,” he added.

“Playing music to a cow again, playing music to a cow,” the scholar shook his head as he walked toward the school.

By the time he arrived, everyone else was already waiting. Upon seeing the master, the others immediately fell silent.

The scholar glanced toward a figure in a straw hat and raincoat in the corner of the room, his brow slightly furrowing.

Compared to before the disaster, this man seemed taller and more robust. Even standing motionless, he radiated an oppressive aura that made the scholar feel uneasy.

More importantly, during the disaster, he hadn’t been blind—he had seen what those people could do.

Thinking of that, the scholar dared not imagine what lay beneath that raincoat.

The sage once said: “Scholars should revere ghosts and spirits, yet keep their distance.”

He really wanted to keep his distance, but he couldn’t. He feared that if he didn’t obey them, he’d meet a terrible fate.

Having lived so long, he had read countless tales of evil men who gained supernatural powers, committing crimes, oppressing the innocent, and taking lives.

Just imagining such horror falling upon himself made his body tremble involuntarily.

So now, he could only go through the motions, one day at a time. The only comfort was that he still received his pay, and the villagers treated him well.

Quickly scanning the room, the scholar frowned slightly. “Hmm? Why are there fewer people today?”

“Master, Gao Zhijian is recruiting local soldiers. They heard there would be candy for those selected, so they all went.”

“But Gao Zhijian is strict about qualifications. Many aren’t qualified, so they’ll probably return soon.”

Looking at Zhao Wu—the only one among them who could be called studious—his tone softened slightly. “I see. Then why didn’t you go?”

Zhao Wu gave a bitter smile, patting his weak legs. “Master jests. My body is no use—no need to try.”

The scholar nodded knowingly. With a slight cough, he began teaching.

Throughout the lesson, people came and went from the classroom, whether they were bored or needed to relieve themselves. But the scholar ignored them all, focusing solely on his work.

Before he knew it, night had fallen. The scholar, feeling dry-mouthed from lecturing, waved his hand at the row of sleepy faces below.

“Today’s lesson ends here. Remember: review the past to gain new insights. Tomorrow, I will quiz you.”

After finishing his duties, the scholar carried his lantern and headed home.

In the quiet night, walking along the desolate street, he admitted to himself that he felt a bit anxious—especially after the disaster.

But he didn’t dare show it. He feared his students might catch a glimpse of his fear, and he was a scholar after all.

As he walked further, he passed by the Bai Clan Ancestral Hall, and his steps grew lighter.

Living in the village meant hearing gossip, and he had heard that many had died violently within those halls.

“I am a scholar, filled with righteous spirit—I do not speak of strange things, nor do I fear the supernatural. Evil shall flee!” he muttered to himself, trying to calm his nerves.

Just as he passed the hall and let out a breath of relief, a wooden mask suddenly lunged out of the shadows.

Before the scholar could finish his scream, a red wooden hand clamped over his mouth. “Shh, I don’t plan to kill you. I’m looking for someone. Do you know where Er Jiu lives in the village?”

Seeing the scholar frozen stiff, Liu Zongyuan asked again: “What? Don’t know? The one in red robes, always carrying two swords on his back.”

Following the trembling finger pointing in a direction, Liu Zongyuan gave a disdainful look at his soaked pants, then turned and walked off.

Not long after, he spotted an open window on the second floor of a large courtyard. “Brother Liu, I’m not in a condition to move. Come inside and chat.”

Liu Zongyuan leaped like a monkey, kicked off the wall, hooked his hand, and slipped inside.

Once inside, he saw the red-robed Taoist sitting upright, and a terrifying beast—its skin peeled off—crouched silently beside him, staring with its eyeless gaze.

“Brother Liu, how have you been?” Hearing Er Jiu’s voice, Liu Zongyuan snapped back to reality, looking at the eyes wrapped in white bandages.

“What happened to your eyes?”

“A disaster happened. I lost my sight. No big deal—it’s just a minor injury. I’m surprised you’re here again.”

“That’s right, I got your letter and rushed here. You don’t know what’s going on outside. It’s chaos.”

“Yes, I can guess. What news do you have about this disaster? Two disasters in two years—surely ominous.”

“Ah.” Liu Zongyuan sighed and sat beside Li Huo Wang. “You don’t need to tell me. Anyone who isn’t blind can see it. I’ve learned that before the disaster, the officials in the Heavenly Watch Bureau already knew.”

“They knew beforehand? But the Heavenly Watch Bureau exists to monitor the heavens. If they knew, why didn’t they stop it? Or are they limited to what they can do?”

“Slap!” Liu Zongyuan slapped his palms in frustration. “Do you think they didn’t act? Do you think the great formations in the capital were just for fun? Damn it! It was ruined by those damn monks of the Forgetting Dao!”

(End of Chapter)