Liu Qingyan, being trained in medicine, had a deep understanding of the body’s vital points and mastered various techniques. After a session of massage, Lu Zheng felt utterly relaxed and refreshed.
“Lu Lang~”
“Hmm?”
“That water-repelling pearl is your betrothal gift to me. From today, I am your…” Liu Qingyan’s words trailed off into a soft murmur.
…
The next morning, Lu Zheng felt invigorated, his fatigue completely gone.
In the morning, Liu Qingyan dressed first, then helped Lu Zheng dress and wash before they had breakfast at home. Only then did she prepare to return to her own home.
“Lu Lang,” Liu Qingyan took a sachet from her sleeve and handed it to him. “I’ve noticed you’re often away at night. I won’t disturb your cultivation or affairs. This sachet contains a strand of my tail hair. If you miss me, hold it and call my name, and I’ll come to you.”
“Alright,” Lu Zheng accepted the sachet, carefully tucking it into his chest. He then held back Liu Qingyan, who was about to leave. “By the way, I have something to pick up today. Don’t go to the clinic yet. Come with me to Qingshan Studio first.”
“Qingshan Studio?” Liu Qingyan paused, immediately understanding, her face lighting up. “You finished writing it?”
“Of course. Let’s see if you’re satisfied,” Lu Zheng smiled.
“Your running script is well-structured and flows freely. It’s bound to be excellent,” Liu Qingyan said, beaming with joy that Lu Zheng had taken her matter to heart.
As she spoke, Liu Qingyan obediently stayed, walking side by side with Lu Zheng to Qingshan Studio in the south of the city.
“Young Master Lu is here!”
The shopkeeper of Qingshan Studio, a middle-aged man with a thin moustache named Zhu Yitang, was a scholar by training, renowned in Tonglin County for his calligraphy and painting. Having repeatedly failed the autumn imperial exams, he opened a calligraphy and painting shop.
Some time ago, Lu Zheng had brought a piece of calligraphy for framing. The work was fluid and seamless, captivating Zhu Yitang so much that he refused payment, asking only to make a rubbing to study and admire.
What could Lu Zheng do? He agreed, of course.
For those who love calligraphy, a fine piece naturally earns their enthusiasm and respect, as Lu Zheng did with Zhu Yitang.
“Is the calligraphy framed?” Lu Zheng asked.
“It’s done, it’s done,” Zhu Yitang said eagerly. “I used silk from Li’s Cloth Shop in the prefecture, phoenix wood infused with Yaozhou incense, and had our master craftsman handle it. It’s guaranteed to last a century without fading or decaying, a treasure for generations.”
“Thank you for your care, Brother Zhu,” Lu Zheng said, clasping his hands in gratitude.
“It’s only right. Any oversight would be an injustice to your masterpiece,” Zhu Yitang said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Lu Zheng smiled, thinking his effort to infuse a few strands of fortune light into the calligraphy wasn’t wasted. With his current skill in running script, he might not rival Wang Xizhi, but he wasn’t far off.
“Let’s see it,” Lu Zheng said.
Zhu Yitang led them to the back room, where a wooden plaque covered with burlap stood.
“Behold!” Zhu Yitang announced, pulling the burlap aside.
The plaque was eight feet square, framed in dark red phoenix wood, intricately carved with various herbs in a simple yet masterful style, not a divine work but certainly exceptional.
The frame held dark yellow silk as backing, with a three-inch border. At the centre was Lu Zheng’s calligraphy.
*Benevolent Heart of a Healer!*
“I should’ve guessed it was for Renxin Hall,” Zhu Yitang said, smiling at Liu Qingyan. “With such profound medical skill and compassion, the calligraphy and the healer are perfectly matched!”
Liu Qingyan gazed at the work, the four characters free and expressive, dynamic yet serene. Her heart stirred, her eyes shimmering, her lips curving into a delighted smile, clearly very pleased.
“Brother Zhu, please have it sent to Renxin Hall today to be hung,” Lu Zheng said.
“Right away!” Zhu Yitang called two assistants to carry the plaque to Renxin Hall.
He then invited the pair to the front for tea, saying to Lu Zheng, “Your calligraphy is like clouds from beyond the heavens, free and inimitable. Won’t you consider consigning a few pieces to my shop?”
Liu Qingyan smiled slightly, sensing from Zhu Yitang’s words that Lu Zheng had already declined him before.
Lu Zheng waved his hand. “I don’t lack money and don’t make a living selling calligraphy. Let it go to those who need it more.”
“But without your work, wouldn’t the world lose a treasure?” Zhu Yitang said regretfully.
Goodness, this is just a calligraphy shop in Tonglin County, Yizhou Prefecture, Lingbei Circuit of the Great Jing Dynasty. Lu Zheng might be exceptional, but to claim a worldly treasure so boldly?
Lu Zheng only smiled, unmoved. Zhu Yitang knew Lu Zheng owned a house and a shop, living comfortably, so he sighed and pressed no further.
After a brief chat at Qingshan Studio, Lu Zheng and Liu Qingyan took their leave and returned to Renxin Hall, where the plaque was already hung.
“Lu Lang,” Old Man Liu greeted with a smile.
Lu Zheng licked his lips, unsure what to call him. Father-in-law? He and Liu Qingyan hadn’t formalised things. Uncle Liu? He’d just spent the night with his daughter.
Liu Qingyan stifled a laugh, seeing Lu Zheng’s awkwardness, and whispered, “Just call him Uncle Liu, like before.”
“Uncle Liu.”
“Come, come,” Old Man Liu said, unbothered by the title, pulling Lu Zheng to the newly hung calligraphy in Renxin Hall’s main room. “You wrote this?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent work! I never knew you had such a hand for calligraphy.”
“You flatter me. Isn’t writing a basic skill for scholars?”
Two scholars, who happened to be admiring the calligraphy while visiting the clinic, turned sharply, staring at Lu Zheng with strange expressions.
What academy did this man come from to say something so outrageous? Did his teachers and peers know? Hadn’t they beaten him for it?
To write at such a level and claim it’s a basic skill was as absurd as a top scholar saying, “Passing the imperial exam is just a matter of having hands.” Utterly infuriating!
Lu Zheng glanced at the scholars, ignoring their indignation, and nodded with a smile.
The scholars immediately smiled back, clasping their hands and expressing admiration.
…
A day passed. Lu Zheng dined at the Liu household again, taught Hu Zhou knife techniques for half an hour, then sent him home.
That evening, Lu Zheng sat alone on his bed, wrestling with his thoughts. After much deliberation, he took out the sachet, held it in his palm, and softly called, “Qingyan… Qingyan…”
Just testing if it works, nothing more.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
The door sounded. Another sleepless night.
