Chapter 91
Chapter 91
The snow fell.
A wooden hut.
Woven mats.
A charcoal brazier.
The cry of an infant.
The iron-tower of a man standing at the entrance turned his head and gazed at the ants crawling on the snowy ground.
How strange, it's snowing yet there are ants.
In groups and groups.
Qin Luoxia heard her child crying and rushed out.
Seeing her husband already holding Mianmian to soothe her, she still felt uneasy.
For her Mianmian seldom cried.
She was very well-behaved, especially in front of others, never crying carelessly.
She took a glance, her husband's expression was neither serious nor strange, seeming to simply converse, so she did not go in.
Watching the ants crawling unhurriedly on the snow, Qin Luoxia turned and went to the kitchen.
The burly iron tower of a man did not know why, but just now he suddenly felt a tightness in his breath.
As if encountering a mortal enemy.
Perhaps it was an illusion, for there was no one else here, only the village woman in an apron who had just shown him an apologetic smile.
"The baby cries and gives me a fright," Qin Luoxia said to the sturdy man.
The iron tower was single, without wife or child, so he did not understand.
But looking at the village woman before him, he suddenly felt that he too should take a wife.
Inside the hut.
Gong Qichi repeatedly apologized, "Forgive me, forgive me. My young lord did not mean it, he just likes little girls."
As he finished speaking, Gong Qichi wanted to slap himself.
He had never encountered such a situation before. The last time he brought the young lord to meet the He County Magistrate, the magistrate committed suicide right in front of them, yet the young lord did not even furrow his brow, very composed.
And before that, the Lord had also taken the young lord into battle, witnessing the fall of cities, carnage, mountains of corpses and seas of blood, but the young lord, still so young, did not even bat an eyelid. (Could it be that the young lord's brows are naturally immobile?)
It was because of that incident that he developed a heart of cherishing talent, volunteering to become the young lord's tutor.
Yet he never expected to encounter this kind of thing.
He was conversing, while the young lord went and pulled the lock of a young lady.
Gong Qichi himself had children, but he had always been stern in front of them, never seeing them be so naughty.
Jiang Mianmian, having been a baby for so long, cried cleverly when things did not go her way.
After all, as long as she cried, she could attract everyone's attention.
Fulfilling her needs.
This is the most basic skill of infancy, every baby born with it innately.
Someone pulled her hair and even said she was bald, just the thought saddened her.
She hid in her father's embrace, crying hiccups.
While also glaring at the little boy with tear-filled eyes.
These brats were the most difficult to deal with, if adults did not scold them, they would run rampant.
She could not beat him, so crying was the best solution.
Sure enough, the little man with a thin mustache before her kept apologizing.
Yet not a harsh word for that boy.
Jiang Changtian also did not expect to have such a small mishap.
But holding his crying daughter, he inexplicably felt like laughing.
His daughter usually seemed a little too mature, her small age yet always with a look of hidden worries, Jiang Changtian was concerned his daughter might have issues.
Now holding his daughter crying heartbrokenly, Jiang Changtian actually felt relieved.
"No matter, no matter, children playing, it's fine," Jiang Changtian said, holding his daughter who had stopped crying.
Then they continued their discussion.
The Young Lord Zi did not speak again, nor make any movement.
He sat there motionless like a soulless, exquisite doll figurine, brows unmoving.
Jiang Mianmian sat in her father's embrace.
Wiggling her little bottom, she soon felt hot.
She was wearing too many layers.
There was a brazier in the room.
She was hot.
But she did not want to disturb her father, as she knew her father was discussing important matters.
Jiang Changtian and Gong Qichi, one having lost his chance at an official career, the other having passed the examinations only to lose his office, conversed merrily, admiring each other.
Originally he had come to persuade a surrender.
Yet now not a word of persuasion had been spoken.
From discussing the landscapes and cultures along the way, they had moved on to the climate of Jingzhou.
"Jingzhou's winters are cold, has Mister Gong adapted yet?"
"You may call me Qichi, or by my style name, Ye Hang. Although Jingzhou's winters are cold, they are not damp and chilly, with abundant sunshine, always putting one in good spirits."
Jiang Changtian had weighed this man.
Born to a humble family yet exceedingly accomplished, passing the highest examinations to reach life's peak, then after becoming a top scholar, his life took a downward turn, falling to the depths.
He had a strong desire to advance himself.
Yet unlike those of pure rustic origins, he was educated, having read extensively, with a scholarly air.
"Ye Hang, the night sail, celestial geography, the stars of all directions, past and present, all understood - an excellent name, Brother Ye Hang is truly learned and talented," Jiang Changtian praised.
Gong Qichi's expression smiled slightly, his thin mustache curling upwards.
So Brother Jiang was indeed a kindred spirit.
Others hearing his style name Ye Hang assumed it referred to sailing boats at night, a difficult and arduous path, a talented man unappreciated.
But that was not the case - when others traveled by boat at night, wherever they went, whatever was discussed, the knowledge of all under heaven, only in the night sail was there the most formidable challenge.
He took the name Ye Hang as an extremely confident and self-assured expression.
Yet Brother Jiang understood it at just a listen.
The two continued conversing.
Although Jiang Changtian initially reminisced about their circumstances, once he opened the topic, he quickly moved to all sorts of casual chat, not dwelling on the subject of status.
Very carefree.
Discussing landscapes and cultures.
Discussing worldviews and perspectives on life.
Discussing the greater situation.
Discussing livelihood issues.
And of course Jiang Changtian was equally engrossed.
Aside from Jie Xi, he had not met anyone of equal footing to converse with in a long time.
In the eyes of the villagers, the two of them were like a pair of laughingstocks.
The more they talked, the more invested they became.
Until the Young Lord Zi suddenly spoke, "Take off your clothes."
Jiang Changtian was dazed for a moment.
Gong Qichi froze.
They saw the young lord say to the little girl, "Do you need my help?"
Jiang Mianmian looked utterly baffled.
Only then did Jiang Changtian notice his daughter's little face was flushed red, as the room had grown hot.
His daughter was wearing a bit too much.
He reached out and helped his daughter undo the outermost robe.
Seeing she was still bundled up, he undid another robe.
Like peeling a shell.
After peeling off three layers, her neck could finally move freely.
Gong Qichi could not help but take out his handkerchief and wipe his brow.
Thinking it was good the young lord did not personally help undress the little girl.
If on the first meeting he undressed someone else's young daughter, that would be too terrifying.
Perhaps it was because Jiang's young daughter was too adorable, attracting the young lord's attention.
On this snowy day, the guests did not linger.
Although Qin Luoxia had prepared noodles, Gong Qichi did not stay with the young lord.
After all, it was their first visit.
To insist on staying for a meal would also be too rude.
Nor did they have such plans.
As they were leaving, Jiang Changtian escorted them and ended up slipping on the snow, almost falling over.
He personally accompanied them to the village entrance and loudly assured them, "Please be at ease, Young Lord Zi. We will gather the grain and money as soon as possible. I wish you success in unifying the realm, Lord. I also hope to have the opportunity to discuss matters at length with Brother Ye Hang by candlelight."
Gong Qichi looked at the long-haired youth holding an infant and repeatedly escorting them to the village entrance. He couldn't help but exclaim, "Brother Jiang is truly a sincere man, a virtuous scholar. We will surely meet again."
Little Jiang Mianmian waved her tiny hands.
Young Lord Zi's expression remained stern, but when they finally turned to leave, he also waved his hand.
Gong Qichi, leading the young lord and the Black Pagoda guards, rode their horses toward the county town.
Outside the village entrance, the procession was vast.
It was mealtime, and they were a bit hungry, needing to hurry to the county town for lunch.
They could have eaten in the village, too.
Gong Qichi didn't know why he didn't let the army eat in the village.
Instead, he led them to the county town.
On the way, the cold wind was biting, but the scenery on both sides was excellent.
The wind cleared their minds.
Gong Qichi came to his senses a bit, realizing he was a rebel and should have let the army eat in the village.
The atmosphere when chatting with Brother Jiang was so pleasant that he forgot about this.
He remembered his role as the young lord's teacher and asked, "Young Lord, what do you think of Sir Jiang?"
He didn't really expect an answer.
The young lord often didn't speak much.
But unexpectedly, the young lord responded.
"He is ill, seriously ill, more so than me."
Gong Qichi: ...
Back at home, eating piping hot noodles, Jiang Changtian asked Jiang Mianmian, "Mianmian, what did you think of that young man today?"
Jiang Mianmian slurped up a noodle she had finally fished out, broth glistening at the corner of her mouth. In a sweet voice, she said, "He is ill."