Old Master Cui kept his gaze fixed on the wooden float bobbing on the water, ignoring him entirely.
Xie Yan had originally been standing respectfully, but after a while, his back ached, so he squatted down beside him. He looked at the float, then at Old Master Cui’s serious expression, and, after holding it in for some time, finally asked, “Master… you don’t know how to fish either, do you?”
Old Master Cui snorted coldly.
Xie Yan glanced between him, the water, and the middle-aged man beside them. “Is there even any fish in this pond?”
The middle-aged man: “……”
Seeing the two of them occupied, Xie Yan pulled out two books of game records from his bosom, along with a letter, and pressed them into Old Master Cui’s hands.
“You just continue fishing. I’ve come by anyway, and if you’re fine, I’ll take my leave.”
He glanced at the middle-aged man by the water, then once more at Old Master Cui.
Finally, Old Master Cui acknowledged him. “Why so rushed? You’ve already seen Erge, why act like this?”
Xie Yan was confused. “Then why did you call me over? For me to kowtow to you?”
Old Master Cui nodded. “Yes. I called you over to kowtow to me.”
Xie Yan paused for a moment, then, with a bit of common sense, immediately turned back inside. There was a pot of hot tea in the teahouse. He brought the tea pot and cups out, knelt, and poured tea for Old Master Cui, performing the formal master-disciple salute.
“Master, I, your student, pay my respects!”
Old Master Cui said, “No need to use my tea for a salute.”
Xie Yan smiled. After Old Master Cui finished drinking, he refilled the cup.
“If that’s not enough, there’s more!”
Old Master Cui glanced at him, a faint smile breaking his stern expression, and gestured for Xie Yan to bring over a stool and sit.
Xie Yan sat down, and a servant brought over fishing rods, bait, a bamboo scoop, and a half-filled bucket of water. He was going to fish as well.
Xie Yan didn’t know how to fish and cast his line haphazardly. Barely two minutes had passed, and he’d caught three fish. Flustered, he fumbled with the line and the bamboo scoop. When trying to remove the hooks, the slippery fish wriggled. Fearing they’d escape, he scooped the hook and line into the bucket, handing it to his right hand, looking to Old Master Cui for guidance. Now, he even called him “Master.”
“There are actually fish in this pond! So many! And they’re all going for my hook—I can’t keep up!”
Old Master Cui, with an empty bucket, “……”
He removed the hooks and tossed the fish back into the pond.
Xie Yan watched his movements carefully. A carp about the length of a palm swam away, disappearing beneath the surface. He was silent for a while, wondering at the old man’s deep sense of grievance.
After a moment, Xie Yan asked if Master wanted to play chess.
Immediately, Old Master Cui set down his rod, praising Xie Yan for his perceptiveness, and shot a disapproving glance at the middle-aged man.
Introduced by Old Master Cui, the middle-aged man was named Ling San, Xie Yan’s fellow disciple. Xie Yan simply called him Senior Brother Ling.
The three of them walked into the teahouse, washed their hands, and rubbed incense powder over their hands five or six times before touching the chess pieces.
Because their hands smelled of fish, Old Master Cui had them use an inferior set of pieces.
The board was set, the incense lit, servants brought tea and snacks, and, behind a screen, someone played music.
Xie Yan rubbed his hands and began daydreaming. Serving as an official, life could actually be this comfortable—so wonderful.
Old Master Cui liked to take back moves. There was no set order in their play. Xie Yan knew his patterns, and as soon as the old man touched a piece, he grabbed some and scattered them across the board, adjusting positions casually, placing fifteen pieces at a time.
Ling San watched, speechless. This junior brother was extraordinary.
Old Master Cui’s eyes narrowed, and he scattered two more pieces, adjusting by hand as well.
Xie Yan added chaos, tossing in a white piece, both of them gesturing with their hands.
The black-and-white pieces moved like beans in a pan, scrambled and rearranged across the board. Though the board was nearly too small to contain them, they stayed within rules—they never took each other’s pieces by chance.
After about the time it takes to finish a cup of tea, the board settled into a balanced opening. Old Master Cui made the first move, and the game officially began.
Old Master Cui asked Xie Yan, “What tributes did you bring me?”
Xie Yan answered honestly. To Old Master Cui, it amounted to three jars of pickles.
“They’re the fungus paste you like, for wraps and mixed noodles. Better than what we bought before, good ingredients. The salted duck eggs are excellent—oily and fragrant, perfect for congee or soup. And the sour radish, open it and you’ll see, the flavor’s unique and the radishes are all white—very tasty!”
While Xie Yan spoke, Old Master Cui quietly took five of Xie Yan’s white pieces and replaced them with black pieces.
Xie Yan didn’t mind; he placed and played however he liked. Until the board reached a deadlock, this game could last forever.
Old Master Cui admired this trait in him, using Xie Yan to teach Ling San.
“Unlike you, every time you come it’s just to fish. Is it your wish or mine?”
Ling San, more respectful than Xie Yan, immediately bowed. “Student acknowledges his error. I will not fish next time.”
He promised not to fish, but said nothing about playing chess.
Xie Yan glanced at him, thinking his senior brother lacked tact. Old Master Cui really likes people without tact, he mused.
Xie Yan’s style was steady, just like at the academy. No matter how Old Master Cui moved, he remained composed, adjusting to the changing board.
Ling San asked, “You can play like this?”
Xie Yan: “It’s difficult, but manageable.”
Ling San asked again why he could play.
Xie Yan thought for a moment. “As long as you can let go in your heart, you can play. Don’t dwell on how much effort you put in the last game, or how close you were to winning. If you didn’t win, you didn’t. Focus on the new game.”
Taking back moves could frustrate one, but it trained the mind. Xie Yan learned much from this, tempering his mindset.
Now, thinking of playing against Old Master Cui, he sometimes felt a surge of excitement. His mind raced, simulating dozens of scenarios in an instant.
It was exhausting, but also exhilarating once finished.
They had arrived late in the afternoon, and this game would be Xie Yan’s last before heading home.
He won, leaving Ling San raising his eyebrows repeatedly.
When tidying the board, Old Master Cui asked Xie Yan about his plans.
“Next year, will you go to the capital?”
Xie Yan shook his head. “I need to consider.”
Having achieved the top in the preliminary exam, he didn’t complain about the difficulty, knowing the best choice was to keep pushing forward. Mentioning he needed to think left Old Master Cui and Ling San puzzled.
Xie Yan explained, “My roots are unstable. My family is small, my reputation unestablished, my personality reserved, and few friends. After achieving top rank, I joined my peers in drinking, which I couldn’t fully manage. For next year’s exams, beyond academics, I must prepare to transform—from a scholar into… someone capable of standing on their own.”
He would no longer just be a student.
Old Master Cui frowned, holding pieces in his hands, asking how he planned to prepare.
Xie Yan shared his intentions. He’d teach in the provincial capital to build reputation. From the academy to the outside, dealing with various people, competition shifted from grades to influence. Training here would give him a skillset, making him self-reliant once in the capital.
Ling San said, “You’ve studied under the examiners and clerks. Many peers could help you.”
Xie Yan replied logically, “No. They are all people to mutually leverage. If I have value, I can form alliances, share good and bad fortunes together. If I have no value, I’ll be pushed aside. Who knows what could happen—I might not survive.”
Xie Yan would return home once, coming back by mid-October. This year was nearly over.
The provincial exam would be in mid-February, so they would set off shortly after the Lantern Festival. The final imperial exam would follow in March.
