“Clatter!”
“Clatter!”
Lu Zheng served tea and snacks to the women, stopping Xiao Cui when she tried to get up, urging her to keep playing.
Near noon, Xiao Cui went to prepare lunch, and Lu Zheng took her place at the table.
They chatted while playing.
“Uncle An and Uncle Qian aren’t here. Seems the Peach Blossom Shrine is quite busy?”
Shen Ying nodded, “Yesterday and today, there’ve been many visitors. The people are devout, hoping for a better year.”
“Congratulations, Sister.”
“Thanks to your Lu Lang for suggesting *Peach Blossom*, by the way, hasn’t he written a poem for you, Qingyan?” Shen Ying smiled, glancing at Lu Zheng.
Liu Qingquan blushed but didn’t press Lu Zheng, shaking her head, “Lu Lang already painted me a picture.”
“Oh!”
Shen Ying feigned surprise, smiling as she drew a tile, “One Dot.”
…
“I’ve won again! Pay up, pay up!”
Mahjong without stakes lacks soul, so they played for small coins, one or two wen, just for fun.
Liu Qingquan was the weakest at strategy, but her luck was unbeatable. Liu Qingyan and Shen Ying only won small amounts, while Qingquan frequently won hands, pocketing dozens of coins.
Wait, three out of four players won money?
Lu Zheng smacked his lips, handing another copper coin to Liu Qingquan.
She grinned, happily tucking it into her bulging purse, likely filled from New Year’s Eve wins.
Looks like Qingquan won’t need to ask Qingyan for snack money anymore.
But with Lu Zheng around, would she ever lack snacks?
“Lunch is ready!”
Xiao Cui’s voice interrupted Qingquan’s winning streak.
They finished the round, ate in the front hall, then returned to the side room to continue, clearly not yet satisfied.
The day passed without chess or forest strolls, entirely consumed by mahjong.
Truly a time-killer…
By mid-afternoon, it was time for Lu Zheng and Liu Qingyan to leave.
“It’s really fun. I’ll have Xiao Cui carve a peachwood set, so you won’t need to bring one next time,” Shen Ying said.
Xiao Cui packed the mahjong set and returned it to Liu Qingyan, who didn’t protest. Yesterday afternoon, they’d played at home, and if not for today’s visit to Peach Blossom Plain, with too few players at home, Madam Liu might not have let her bring the set.
Shen Ying saw them to the gate, waving as their carriage departed, then returned to the manor.
In the carriage, they swayed back, resting and snacking, quite relaxed.
“Lu Lang.”
“Hm?”
Liu Qingyan hesitated, “I’m planning to help at Benevolent Heart Clinic tomorrow.”
“Not resting a couple more days?”
“I’ll check if there are patients, and if Father’s busy.”
Lu Zheng nodded, “Good. I’m heading to White Cloud Temple tomorrow to see Master, maybe pick up a new technique.”
“By the way, when you’re free, we could visit White Cloud Temple together. Shaotong Mountain’s scenery is nice.”
Liu Qingyan blinked, thought, then said, “Sure.”
…
At midnight, Lu Zheng visited Peach Forest, and a touched Shen Ying treated him to the tender care of a peach blossom fairy until dawn.
The next morning, invigorated, Lu Zheng carried stalactite spring water and lingzhi wine up Shaotong Mountain.
“Last time was scorpion wine, now lingzhi wine. You’re thoughtful.”
Taoist Mingzhang sipped, “The City God sent a thank-you note, saying you helped destroy Night Mountain?”
Lu Zheng nodded, “Night King had become a Nether Stone Ghost Corpse, and Lady Shen got the Nether Heart, making them mortal enemies. Since his avatar was destroyed, I took the chance to test my skills.”
Mingzhang shook his head, “You’re bold, not even a year into cultivation, yet daring to follow the City God into the Netherworld.
Still, it’s good to experience it, feel the Nether qi. It’ll help you spot ghosts in the mortal realm.”
Lu Zheng and Mingzhang played chess and drank, chatting casually.
Mingzhang didn’t probe Lu Zheng’s cultivation. Now that Lu Zheng had achieved qi refinement, constant checks would seem intrusive.
Lu Zheng didn’t ask for new techniques either. His current skills sufficed, and asking every visit felt too utilitarian.
During the New Year, coming up to play chess, drink, and chat with Mingzhang, building their bond, was plenty.
“Your *Peach Blossom* poem was excellent. Not planning to take the scholar exam this year?”
The Jing Dynasty’s imperial exams were similar to ancient China’s but simpler and more flexible.
First, annual local exams in one’s registered county or prefecture. Passing granted the scholar title.
Scholars could study at official county or prefectural schools, or privately at home or in academies.
Second, every three years in autumn, the court held the provincial exam, far tougher. Passing made one a provincial graduate, eligible for low-level local posts, like Tonglin County’s Clerk Li, a Lingbei Province graduate.
By the way, the Jing Dynasty divided regions into three levels: province, prefecture, county. Tonglin County was under Yizhou Prefecture, part of Lingbei Province.
Much like modern provinces, cities, and counties, governance converges across systems.
Wait, does that mean I haven’t even left the beginner’s village?
Others, a year after transmigrating, invent nuclear fusion or sky fortresses, or single-handedly topple nations. Am I slacking, dragging down the transmigrator reputation?
Forget it. Still in the beginner’s village, facing a boss like Night King, with masters like Shen Ying, Mingzhang, and Xin Zhanting around, what’d happen if I ventured out?
Play it safe. Unless I’m out of fortune light for cultivation, I’ll stay in Tonglin County, enjoying romance.
Maybe dabble in flower arrangement art. Isn’t that nice?
Back to the topic…
Third, the spring after the provincial exam, the court held the metropolitan exam in the capital for provincial graduates not yet in office. Passing made one a jinshi, entering the court’s central view, a leap to prominence.
The emperor personally selected the top three, and institutions like the Imperial Academy were just supplements to the Jing Dynasty’s vast exam system.
…
“No thanks,” Lu Zheng shook his head, “I’m not interested in being an official. I can take the exam later if I change my mind.”
Mingzhang felt a slight pity for Lu Zheng’s literary talent but preferred him not going. With cultivation, as long as he stayed lawful, officials wouldn’t target him. His family’s wealth covered expenses, so focusing on the Dao was ideal.
“Fair enough. With your qi refinement, the court might make an exception for you to serve, but unless your achievements stand out, colleagues from the exam system might ostracize you,” Mingzhang cautioned.
Lu Zheng nodded, understanding.
Others climbed through years of study and built networks of classmates. An outsider dropping in would naturally face resentment.
Never mind that cultivation was hard work; they wouldn’t care, as it’s a different system.
Luckily, Lu Zheng had no interest in officialdom.
Joking aside, a Tonglin County household registration wasn’t foolproof. If he passed the exam and the court ran a background check, his lack of “personal history” would expose him.
Best case, an unclear background meant no appointment. Worst case, he’d be deemed a spy from another nation or faction, facing immediate execution. That’d be a disaster.
Don’t underestimate the Jing Dynasty’s court. This was a unified dynasty akin to ancient China, not a chaotic pirate society like the Anglo-Saxons.
So, until he could single-handedly topple the Jing Dynasty, Lu Zheng would steer clear of power centers.
Avoiding core interests meant no one would bother digging into his background.
Once his strength was sufficient, if he wanted to serve…
Heck, achievements? He could rack up as many as he wanted.
…
After a vegetarian meal at White Cloud Temple and another chess game with Mingzhang, Lu Zheng took his leave.
As he left the rear courtyard, he saw Yuanjing, pale and clutching his chest, supported by the guest-greeting Taoist Yuanning.
Lu Zheng hurried forward, grabbing Yuanjing’s other arm, “Brother Yuanjing, what happened?”
Yuanjing sighed, shaking his head, “Alas, I was careless!”
Lu Zheng, “…”
Yuanning, “…”
Lu Zheng glanced at Yuanning, who showed no surprise.
Seeing Lu Zheng’s look, Yuanning explained, “Three days ago, Squire Zhang from Pingtian County sought help, saying his old mansion was haunted. So, Senior Brother went to exorcise the ghost.”
Yuanning glanced at Yuanjing’s pale face, “Was the ghost strong?”
Yuanjing shook his head, then nodded, “Average cultivation, but I didn’t expect it to know a blood-curse technique. It drained twenty percent of my blood, a heavy loss.”
“And the ghost?”
“Dead,” Yuanjing said.
Lu Zheng nodded. Though Yuanjing was often careless, his strength was solid. Despite the ambush, he completed the mission.
“I’ll see Master first, then rest for five days to restore my qi and blood.”
“There’s some scorpion wine left from Junior Brother Yuanzheng’s last visit. I’ll pour you a jug.”
“Great!”
Lu Zheng, having just left, helped Yuanjing back to Mingzhang’s meditation room.
After paying respects and reporting the exorcism, Mingzhang, exasperated, poured a jin of Lu Zheng’s lingzhi wine for Yuanjing to aid his recovery.
Helping Yuanjing to his room and chatting briefly, Lu Zheng left, using his divine movement technique to return to Tonglin County.
