Joy of Life - V1C10
Chapter 10
The Sea Salt Merchant
It was early in the morning, and the birds were chirping away. The maids had just finished cleaning the house and were preparing breakfast. With only one and a half people left to attend to the return of Count Sinan’s daughter, Miss RuoRuo, there was not much left to do.
After completing all her chores, Dong’er, the maid, woke Fan Xian but was shocked to find him in poor condition. She immediately called the doctor, who, after checking the young boy's pulse, assured her that it was nothing serious. He reasoned that it was probably due to something the boy had eaten, then left a prescription and took his pay.
When Fei Jie arrived at Count Sinan’s villa, the literary enthusiast Master Xixi left subtly, like the morning wind. Fei Jie looked at the young boy, who had dark circles under his eyes, and chuckled.
“They say that the hearts of youth are like the sun, ignorant of human hardships. But what happened to you? How did you end up so sleep-deprived that you needed a doctor?”
Fan Xian had spent the entire night thinking, but still hadn’t decided whether to continue his Zhenqi training. He originally intended to treat this nameless spiritual art as entertainment during his boundless life. However, if it endangered his survival, he knew he needed to be cautious.
Due to his lack of sleep, he felt absent-minded. Hearing his teacher Fei Jie talk about the ignorance of human hardships, he recited spontaneously:
I liked to climb high towers.
I liked to climb high towers.
To conjure up a bit of sorrow to make a new verse.
Now I know too well the taste of sorrow.
The study room quickly fell silent. Fan Xian, who hadn’t made a sound for half the day, struggled to pry open his heavy eyelids and yawned. “Don't be angry, Teacher. I had a late night.”
Fei Jie observed the boy, stroking his hair with one hand and his beard with the other, blinking several times as he tried to understand if he truly heard what the child had said. He accidentally stabbed his chin with a goose feather pen without realizing it. Awakened by the pain, he sluggishly questioned, “Earlier… that poem… who wrote it?”
“Poor old man Xin,” Fan Xian replied, inadvertently revealing Xin Qizi’s surname. Realizing his mistake, he stuttered as Fei Jie’s eyes lit up.
“Old man Xin is a two-way merchant who collected sea salt last month.”
“Hmm. Not bad for a merchant. I wonder what his full name is.”
“Xin… Qizi,” Fan Xian said, sneaking a peek at Fei Jie.
Fei Jie had already returned to his normal self and had begun teaching again. There was so much more to cover than just biological points, so his workload was heavy.
Fan Xian returned to his bedroom after lunch and was once again faced with the question of whether he should continue with the dangerous Zhenqi training. As he held the yellow book in his hand, he began to feel depressed.
More than anything else, he should probably be depressed about the poem he accidentally recited in the study room.
Fan Xian was quite fond of poems in his previous life and memorized hundreds of them, so when he recited one, his mind wandered, and he did it naturally, unaware of the trouble he would bring upon himself. He wondered if his teacher believed his feeble excuse, but judging from Fei Jie’s reaction, Fan Xian gambled that he probably assumed the original author was a sea salt merchant.
Fan Xian was not obsessively concerned with morals, so to him, there was nothing hateful about plagiarizing poems. From his point of view, to keep the knowledge of these poems to himself rather than making good use of them was equivalent to violating a national treasure.
He had plenty of time in the years that he had lived in this world to devise ways of making a living. It took no time for plagiarism to secure its place in the top three on his list.
Fan Xian often brainwashed himself during his thoughts. Rather than a poacher, he was a preserver, a mighty idealist, sharing and spreading Earth's cultures.
However, he had not planned on plagiarizing like this, nor at this moment. He had planned to at least use the author’s name as a pen name for their work.
If you were caught humming phrases like “Now I know too well the taste of sorrow. I begin to speak yet pause,” at such a young age, you wouldn’t be considered a child prodigy. Instead, you might be seen as a strange child who appears normal on the outside but internally carries the weight of countless painful scars, reflecting the bitter passage of the four seasons.
Fan Xian reflected on these trivial matters, knowing he could rely on the passing years to stabilize his increasingly intense biological clock. As it was time for his daily nap, he gradually drifted off to sleep. In his dreams, he contemplated the immense danger Fei Jie believed Zhenqi posed.
On this day, Fan Xian accepted his fate and continued training with this formidable Zhenqi. Since all he needed to do for the training was sleep, he resolved to address any issues that might arise when the time came.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
During Fan Xian's nap, Fei Jie continued his unfinished letter. The completely dried ink suggested that the letter had been written the night before.
“This child is prettier, braver, wiser, more determined, and more mature than anyone I know. Gaining his trust may take time, but he is loyal to those he respects and cares for, and he is not afraid to express his opinions or act on them. He can be cunning and ruthless when necessary, yet he also possesses a charming and kind nature. He is a complex individual with many layers. He shines like a light that attracts everyone around him. He is a born leader. Among all the five-year-olds of the Qing Empire, he would stand out without question. From my observations, he is more than capable of inheriting the family fortune. My biggest concern, however, is his identity and background. ”
The writing stopped there. The previous night, Fan Xian had questioned him about Zhenqi. Fei Jie sighed, remembering Fan Xian's words earlier that day, and continued writing.
“…‘Now I know too well the taste of sorrow. I begin to speak yet pause.’ How am I supposed to believe that those words came from a five-year-old boy, knowing that the art of prose has deteriorated in more than a decade? I find it even harder to believe that a merchant could have written this. What’s more, the young master panicked afterward, something I have rarely seen since I met him. The biggest question here is how Xin Qizi had the opportunity to meet with Fan Xian, considering I am with him most of the day.”
At the end of the letter, he sincerely requested:
“...Please ask the people of Dongshan Road to find out exactly who the sea salt merchant Xin Qizi is and his reason for contacting Fan Xian. Understanding why the young master was so anxious over these words is a top priority. Please hurry.”
Fei Jie ended the letter with a crooked signature and put down his pen.
A few days later, the Overwatch Council of the capital sent spies to hunt for the sea salt merchant. Although they found numerous illegal private sea salt traders involved with government officials, they could not locate a merchant with the surname Xin. Rumors circulated in the city that the Director of the Overwatch Council, feared by all, was furious with the lack of results. He punished the spies by docking their pay for three months. The spies searched tirelessly, their faces grim and ready for confrontation.
May God have mercy on the unfortunate man named Xin Qizi in this world.
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