In the county, there were no particularly good inkstones. Li Fei had picked a simple round one—plain and unadorned.
But when Li Feng chose one in the shop, he selected an inkstone carved with a landscape. It resembled the one owned by Shun Ge’er, though it lacked the warmth of a village scene and instead looked more like a refined landscape painting—elegant and tasteful.
Li Feng had not read many books. He simply told Li Fei, “Studying is dull. It’s not as free as life back in the mountain寨. If you ever feel like you can’t keep going, look at this inkstone. Treat the mountains carved on it as our Western Mountain. You’ve come all this way—if you only learn a couple of characters, how could you show your face when you go back?”
Li Fei took it to heart. “My grandfather took me to worship the mountain, and we visited many lonely households. Later we went to the threshing ground and even looked around shops in the county. He asked me if I still remembered what the prefectural city looked like. I know why I’m here, Brother Dafeng. Don’t go easy on me—my grandfather said if I deserve a beating, just give it. He’ll only thank you.”
Li Feng liked what he heard. He patted Li Fei’s shoulder. “Since you’re living with us, set an example for my two kids. Make them love studying too—be diligent.”
Li Fei agreed readily. Taking care of kids? Easy.
Back in the mountain寨, the older children always looked after the younger ones. If you wanted the little ones to willingly follow behind you like tails, you had to be impressive—someone they could admire.
Li Feng, who had also once been a “king of kids,” felt the same. Though they were more than ten years apart in age, they chatted like equals, boasting back and forth until their tall tales practically reached the sky.
Li Feng liked children with that kind of temperament—quick-witted and open.
He took Li Fei to the private school to deliver tuition. Along the way, he coached him on what to say. Once inside, when they met the teacher, Li Fei spoke for himself and even performed a proper student’s bow.
The teacher asked the usual question: “Why do you want to study?”
The old scholar had taught Li Fei a long, formal answer full of classical phrases—he could recite it perfectly. But standing before the teacher, aside from following the proper etiquette, he didn’t repeat a single line of it.
Instead, he said simply, “I want to learn to read and understand books, to grasp some principles, and to gain some skills.”
His tuition was sufficient, and since his behavior was proper, he was allowed to present tea and formally enter the teacher’s tutelage.
There were no classes that day. The teacher assigned him a task: write down all the characters he knew, and reread any passages he could already recite smoothly. The next day, the teacher would assess his level.
On the same day, Xie Yan also visited his own teacher, bringing a gift as well. But compared to Li Fei’s generous tuition, his own offering looked rather… modest.
When he returned home, he was first cornered by Lu Liu, who demanded to know where the beeswax had gone. Then he was mocked by Li Feng for his “poor” gift, teasing that he hadn’t even brought his teacher a piece of meat.
At the doorway, Luo Dayong overheard and asked, “What did you give your teacher?”
Li Feng loudly exposed him, “Three jars of pickled vegetables!”
That did it—no one felt the need to be polite to a newly minted scholar anymore. Everyone who heard burst out laughing.
Lu Liu had been angry, but the moment he heard that, he laughed too, his momentum completely gone. Still, he forced a stern face and said, “The candles I prepared for my brother—you took them and gave them away. What is my brother supposed to use? You don’t care about him at all!”
“Who says I don’t care?” Xie Yan argued. “I bought him good lamp oil! You don’t know—it burns bright and barely smokes. It’s much more expensive than beeswax!”
Lu Liu shot back, “Then why didn’t you give that to your teacher?”
Xie Yan: “……”
His teacher probably didn’t lack lamp oil…
And if he didn’t lack oil, he probably didn’t lack candles either.
Xie Yan pressed his lips together, blinked at Lu Liu, then turned and went inside to find his husband, pretending to cry as he buried himself in Lu Yang’s arms, fishing for comfort.
Lu Yang knew he was faking it, but let him cling anyway. When Xie Yan finally looked up with a grin, Lu Yang asked, “Using my name to trick my younger brother—what were you thinking?”
“I was testing him,” Xie Yan replied, completely self-assured.
Lu Yang sighed. “Then is Li Feng testing me too?”
Xie Yan immediately rejected that idea. He knew better now.
He took a jin of lamp oil next door. After hesitating between Lu Liu and Li Feng, he handed it to Lu Liu instead—wisely avoiding provoking Li Feng—and told him to use it for studying at night.
But Li Feng saw right through him. “Do you really enjoy burning the midnight oil to study?”
Xie Yan lifted his chin proudly.
Li Feng waved Li Fei over and pushed him toward Xie Yan. “Then tutor him tonight. He starts school tomorrow.”
Xie Yan: “……”
There went his chance to roll around on the kang with his husband.
He hated beeswax now. He would never use it again!
Meanwhile, Lu Liu waited for Li Feng to come inside so they could light the expensive lamp oil together.
He fanned the scent toward his nose, trying to catch it. Failing to smell anything, he declared, “This smells like silver.”
Li Feng blew at the lamp. It didn’t go out. “The flame’s steady.”
Lu Liu extinguished the candle and looked around the room in amazement. “Wow—it’s really bright!”
With light this good, not studying would be a waste.
He grabbed a book and even brought the children over. Each of them held one child, teaching by example, letting them absorb the atmosphere so they would grow up loving learning too.
But the children had a routine—once it was time, they got sleepy.
Holding the heavy little bodies made even turning pages difficult. In the end, they laid the children down on the kang to sleep.
The couple sat back at the table. Their eyes met—and they nearly burst out laughing. They forced themselves to keep reading, practically burying their faces in the books.
After a while, Lu Liu leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs—and kicked Li Feng.
He looked up. Their eyes met again.
Lu Liu let out an awkward chuckle. “I didn’t mean to.”
Li Feng said nothing. But a moment later, when Lu Liu stretched again, he kicked him once more.
Li Feng looked up. This time, Lu Liu smiled sweetly. “That one was on purpose.”
Li Feng told him to kick again. Lu Liu refused.
Clearly disobedient, yet he said, “I couldn’t bear to.”
“What are you doing then?” Li Feng asked.
Lu Liu was just tired from holding the child and couldn’t focus on reading. But instead of admitting it, he said, “I’m testing you.”
Li Feng closed his book, a finger tucked between the pages. “If you keep this up, I can’t read.”
Lu Liu was absolutely convinced he was in the right.
“When you hunt in the mountains,” he said, “you can wait in one spot for days. Bugs crawl over you, you ignore them. Even if you itch or ache, you don’t move. You have such discipline then—why not when reading? That’s not good. Let me help you.”
As he spoke, under Li Feng’s increasingly dangerous gaze, he quietly stretched his foot out and kicked him again.
This time it was lighter—so light it felt like a tease.
If this was “help,” then it only made things worse. The itch spread straight to Li Feng’s heart.
“So this is how you’re helping me?” Li Feng asked.
Lu Liu grinned. “This is called the ‘beauty strategy.’”
Since he couldn’t focus on the book anyway, he stood up, walked around the table, and stopped beside Li Feng. Resting a hand on his shoulder, he bent down to look at him face-to-face in a teasing posture. Then he switched sides and repeated the same move, before slipping behind him and gently covering his eyes with both hands.
Lowering his voice—but unable to hide the laughter in it—he murmured, “Dafeng, Dafeng, guess who I am. If you guess right, I’ll let you keep reading!”
At this point, what reading could Li Feng possibly do? He was completely charmed senseless.
“What if I guess wrong?” he asked.
Lu Liu let go of his eyes, then leaned over his shoulder from behind, his cheek brushing his ear as he spoke, sweetness woven into his voice.
“Dafeng, I’m testing you. You’re not supposed to talk. Whether you guess right or wrong, asking questions means you noticed me. Your mind isn’t steady—you’ve failed the test. I have to punish you.”
Li Feng had already spoken. Now he simply waited for his punishment.
