Chapter 355
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Chapter 355: Amidst the Storm, the Rooster Keeps Crowing
“I am named Diwu, Qiansui…”
“I live in the south, a place abundant with water and vegetation. It is also my first time visiting the Jiangnan region, you know.”
Diwu Qiansui, a girl with an ethereal presence, stood at the bow of the boat, introducing herself.
Bai Wei thought to himself, “Qiansui—what a beautiful name. Qiansui… so many years and ages. It sounds like the destiny of an empress or a grand empress.”
But if it were a man, such a name would likely belong to a eunuch.
“I am Bai Wei, a gentleman from Qiántáng Lín’ān—just an ordinary scholar,” Bai Wei said, introducing himself.
The old boatman chuckled and let out a sigh. “Young Master Bai is no ordinary person, you know. He’s actually a distinguished scholar who has caught the emperor’s attention. Even if he’s not the legendary God of Literature descended to Earth, he’s certainly reached a level close to that of a divine being.”
Bai Wei remained silent, neither confirming nor denying.
“Oh? The Star of Literature?” Diwu Qiansui curiously cast her gaze toward him. “I thought you were a wanderer, but it turns out you’re a scholar?”
“I am a scholar, but who says scholars can’t fight?” Bai Wei retorted. “The great Confucius could control a bronze chariot with one hand. I am merely emulating his example. There’s nothing wrong with that.
“I may not have great eloquence, but I can make up for it with my fists. Sometimes, strength is all you need to persuade others.”
The girl and the young man chatted away, their words flowing like the rippling waters of the river.
The boatman observed them with a growing sense of admiration. Earlier that day, he had ferried the second son of the Xu family and a woman as beautiful as a celestial being.
Now, as the sun set, the boat carried Young Master Bai and this lovely young lady.
Unlike Xu Xian, who, despite his honesty and sincerity, lacked a certain presence, Bai Wei seemed entirely different. Though he held no official position, his reputation for brilliance and righteousness preceded him. Known throughout Lín’ān for his generosity and knack for solving complex problems, Bai Wei’s talents made him a perfect match for the elegant girl beside him—if she were as virtuous as she was beautiful.
The boatman mused to himself, Perhaps I should open a matchmaking agency, as Young Master Bai once joked.
As his thoughts meandered, he began to sing cheerfully:
“Ahahaha~ Ahahaha~ The beautiful scenery of West Lake in March, oh!
The spring rain is like wine, and the willows are like smoke, oh!”
His voice carried across the water, blending with the tranquility of the evening.
Bai Wei initially paid no attention to the singing, but as the lyrics became more poetic—”After a hundred years of cultivation, we can finally embark on the same boat. After a thousand years of cultivation, we can finally rest on the same pillow”—he couldn’t help but glance at the old man.
Don’t cause trouble, Bai Wei thought.
The boatman, feigning ignorance, continued singing with gusto.
After disembarking, Bai Wei left the boat fare behind and leaped onto the riverbank, stepping lightly on the lotus leaves. With an oil-paper umbrella in hand, he glanced at the darkening sky and prepared to leave.
“Hello!” Diwu Qiansui called out. “Wait for me!”
Bai Wei turned, puzzled. “What are you waiting for? The sky is getting dark. Shouldn’t you head home?”
“I… won’t go back,” she said.
“Then find an inn,” Bai Wei replied. “The inns nearby are decent and reasonably priced.”
“I have no money!”
Bai Wei sighed. “Alright, that works.”
Her face lit up with joy—until a few pieces of silver clinked against her forehead and rolled into her palm.
“Take the money and go stay at the inn,” Bai Wei said, walking away.
“Hey!” she called after him, but his figure soon vanished into the night.
When Bai Wei returned home, the solitude of his residence greeted him.
Preparing a bath after a long day, he noticed his cat leaping down and splashing water everywhere. As he cleaned up, the cat darted toward the door, carrying a piece of chicken in its mouth.
Puzzled, Bai Wei opened the door to find Diwu Qiansui squatting beneath the eaves, the cat curling around her ankle.
“…You,” Bai Wei muttered. “Who dared reveal my address?”
The girl smiled faintly, rain clinging to her lashes.
“Come inside,” he relented.
He couldn’t bring himself to shoo her away, especially not in the early spring rain.
As the night deepened, Diwu Qiansui emerged from a bath, her delicate features untouched by makeup but radiant nonetheless.
Bai Wei directed her to the guest room.
“Wait,” she said. “Could we… talk for a little while?”
“Go to bed early. It’s good for your health.”
She found a pot of wine and two cups, suggesting a drinking game.
“We don’t even have peanuts,” Bai Wei protested, but her persistence wore him down.
He opened a book—The Book of Songs, used as a makeshift table leg support—and recited half-heartedly:
“Reluctantly drinking all night, I won’t return until I’m drunk.”
Diwu Qiansui replied softly, “Amidst the dark storm, the rooster keeps crowing.”
Bai Wei asked, “Where is the rooster crowing?”
He drank a cup of wine and calmly said, “Rest early and leave tomorrow morning.”
Retreating to his room, Bai Wei locked the door, then added another lock.
As the night wind flipped through The Book of Songs, the page settled on Zheng Feng – Wind and Rain:
“The wind and rain were dark and gloomy, and the rooster’s crow was relentless.
Upon seeing the noble gentleman, why wouldn’t the clouds be delighted?”
This poem, laden with longing, mirrored the evening’s emotions.
Bai Wei, ever familiar with its verses, closed the book and sighed.
If he were younger, perhaps he would have felt joy.
But with five lifetimes of memories unsealed, his heart was no longer so easily swayed.
