Chapter 68: What Is Past May Still Be Reached

Drawing on yesterday's failed experience, Xie Yanzhi's journey driving the ox cart back today was finally smooth-sailing (though he remained trembling with anxiety).

He arrived home just as the last streak of sunset was fading.

"Many thanks, Teacher. I shall go back and review my lessons diligently."

Little Chubby Fan was standing at the courtyard gate, bowing obediently.

He was clutching a book tightly to his chest. His once plump and round face looked somewhat thinner, but his eyes remained dark, bright, and clear.

"Think nothing of it. Study hard." Xie Tingjun did not elaborate further. His gaze fell upon Xie Yanzhi, who was driving the ox cart from afar, and his eyebrows twitched in an imperceptible frown.

"Brother Xie!" Little Chubby Fan followed his gaze, his eyes lighting up, and he scurried over on his short legs.

He lifted his chin, his face filled with envy. "Brother Xie, is this Uncle Wang's ox cart?"

Xie Yanzhi jumped down, nodded with a hint of pride, yet lowered his voice to sound nonchalant. "This ox cart is no different from the horses I used to ride—a piece of cake. Brother Fan, stick closely with your young master. Once I make a fortune, I'll treat you to all the best food and drinks!"

Had anyone else heard these words, they might have detected his youthful bravado and smiled helplessly. But Little Chubby Fan looked at Xie Yanzhi with eyes full of utter adoration and respect.

"Brother Xie, you are truly amazing! You can ride horses, drive oxen, and make so much money."

Flattered by such unsparing praise, Xie Yanzhi suddenly felt a bit embarrassed. He scratched the back of his neck and said, "Go back and thank your mother for me. I am quite satisfied with this odd job. Oh, right."

He pulled a purse from his robe, emptied a few copper coins and small pieces of silver into his palm, looked them over, and handed the largest piece of silver to Little Chubby Fan.

Little Chubby Fan tried to refuse, but Xie Yanzhi scolded him, "This is a business run by this young master! You are expected to pay it back once you place high in the imperial examinations. If you make this young master take a loss, you'll be sorry!"

Little Chubby Fan left with tears welling in his eyes. Xie Yanzhi pulled the ox, attempting to bypass Xie Tingjun, but was blocked.

Tilting his head slightly, Xie Tingjun muttered to himself for a long time before finally saying, "Come to my room tonight. We need to have a proper talk."

Xie Yanzhi froze. Remembering what had been said that morning, a wave of dread washed over him.

"Understood."

He led the old ox to the backyard. The chicken coop Xie Changzhi had previously built was quite spacious, and the old ox would have no trouble making do there for the night.

He cast a curious glance at the chicks; they had grown quite a bit, their eyes bead-bright and looking much more spirited.

Naturally, they were spirited—after all, the chickens in his household were fed on polished white rice!

Xie Yanzhi couldn't help chuckling, and suddenly a conversation from a couple of days ago flashed through his mind.

"Can you help me take care of the chicks? I'll pay you."

"No way. This young master is extremely busy outside; where would I find the time?"

Xie Changzhi hadn't pressed further, acting as if the question had never been asked. Yet it was he who, despite watching Madam Cheng feed the chicks until they were round and plump, still couldn't resist sneaking over to take a look at them every now and then.

A bowl of rice was kept warm in the kitchen, topped with vegetables. Without pondering who might have left it for him, Xie Yanzhi picked it up and shoveled it into his mouth.

He carried a small wooden stool and sat by the backyard entrance. Night had fallen, and snowflakes began to drift down once more. Many were caught by the wind and landed on his face, melting instantly into a chilly dampness.

The ink-blue night sky was profoundly quiet. Xie Yanzhi sniffed, scraped up the last two mouthfuls of rice, washed his bowl, and placed it back in the cupboard.

Just as he stepped out of the kitchen, he saw Xie Tingjun watching him from the corridor. Realizing his route of escape was cut off, he resigned himself to his fate and followed him inside.

Xie Yanzhi fetched a small stool, chose a random corner to sit in, staying as far away from Xie Tingjun as possible, and began pondering whether he should cover the left side of his face or the right side first when the beating started.

Xie Tingjun kept his back turned to him, internalizing his thoughts for a long time before turning around. He was momentarily startled to see Xie Yanzhi sitting a thousand miles away.

Predictably, his expression darkened. "Get over here," he said in a deep voice.

"Don't bother lecturing me, I won't listen anyway. You might as well just beat me directly," Xie Yanzhi averted his gaze, feigning indifference.

Back in the capital, whenever Xie Yanzhi disobeyed an order, Xie Tingjun would drag him to the ancestral hall and fiercely rap his palms.

He had been exceptionally rebellious these past two days—driving ox carts, taking up odd jobs. He had assumed Xie Tingjun was turning a blind eye, but it turned out the old man had just been saving up for a severe thrashing! Xie Yanzhi mentally deducted a few points from the old man's score.

"What nonsense are you spouting? Why on earth would I beat you out of the blue?" Xie Tingjun furrowed his brows tightly, pondering for a moment before asking, "What is it that you like to do?"

"Huh?" Xie Yanzhi's brain spun for a long time, failing to comprehend the question, and he replied in a daze.

"I asked, what is it that you, precisely, like to do?" This phrasing hardly sounded like Xie Tingjun's usual style; he spoke with extreme awkwardness.

Xie Yanzhi's mouth parted slightly, eventually forming the shape of a round "O".

"Father?" he probed tentatively.

Xie Tingjun frowned, his tone less than pleasant: "What is it?"

Xie Yanzhi finally breathed a sigh of relief. It was indeed his father; he hadn't been possessed by some stray ghost.

Yet, how could his father—a man so mired in rigid orthodoxy—ever pose such an open-minded question?

Xie Yanzhi pressed his lips together, fearing it might be a trap, and tested the waters once more: "Father, did someone say something to you?"

Xie Tingjun's brows knitted even deeper. He shot his son an exasperated glare, instantly regretting his lapse in composure, though he had to admit that dealing with Xie Yanzhi these past two days always seemed to push him to the brink of exasperation and impulse.

He took a deep breath. "No one said anything to me. Go ahead and speak your mind boldly."

Seeing that Xie Yanzhi was still hesitating, a slight pang of heartache struck him. Perhaps he had been too harsh on the boy in the past. His expression softened.

"Father has thought it over. Your life belongs to you to live. Whatever you enjoy doing, go ahead and do it; Father should not stand in your way. Today, let us father and son make things clear: from now on, whatever you wish to do—so long as it is not murder or arson—Father will support you."

Xie Yanzhi bolted for the door almost instantly. Pressing his back against it, he shouted, "What kind of demonic entity are you?! How dare you possess my father! Come out at once!"

...

"Father, you've finally seen the light!" Xie Yanzhi sat back down on the stool, clutching his forehead, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What is so great about studying? I simply have no fondness for books. If I can, I want to join the army!"

He placed one foot up on the stool and waved his arm enthusiastically. Xie Tingjun cast a casual, assessing glance at his slender legs and arms, remaining silent.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Xie Yanzhi quickly sat back down and smiled. "Father, does this mean you won't force me to study anymore from now on?"

Xie Tingjun didn't reply, but silence was the best answer.

Xie Yanzhi let out a joyful cheer and grabbed Xie Tingjun's arm. "Father, I knew you were a scholar of reason and broad-mindedness after all!"

Glancing sideways to catch the genuine smile on Xie Yanzhi's face, Xie Tingjun was momentarily lost in thought.

How long had it been since he had seen such a heartfelt smile on this son's face?

A quiet sigh escaped his heart.

What is past can still be pursued.