Chapter 260.2: Hello Chang'an
Chapter 260.2: As Long as He Can Have His Student Back
Spring examinations were approaching, and as the chief examiner, if he were to gather with the various students and candidates, any mischief could be made of it, potentially causing trouble.
He himself did not fear trouble, but the candidates could not bear it.
The National Academy was the same—just celebrating the new year—but the officials had not yet taken leave, and the students should study diligently rather than taking frivolous holidays.
Otherwise, he could not even view the paintings!
Thinking of this, he also recalled that the girl had ultimately never given him a painting, which irritated him further.
“Faithless!” Grand Tutor Zhu blurted out. “Exactly the same!”
Upon saying this, he suddenly paused.
Faithless in exactly the same way.
The painting resembled his student, and her temperament increasingly reminded him of the student.
Now, even on the battlefield…
“How can it be so alike…” Grand Tutor Zhu murmured absentmindedly. “Truly strange.”
In just a few days, the deeds of the Chang family girl, having been confirmed by the court, spread even more widely.
As New Year’s Eve approached, the court, wishing to stabilize the people’s hearts, tacitly allowed the notion of a “general star descending to the world” to circulate.
On one such day, Grand Tutor Zhu was at home resting when he heard his children and grandchildren preparing to offer incense, praying for divine protection, peace in the coming year, and the swift end of military conflicts, inviting him to join.
Grand Tutor Zhu frowned: “I will not go.”
What use was there in praying to the gods? If the divine viewed all beings equally, why would they favor certain mortals? As for war, the gods would not intervene.
Those who save the world have always been mortals, never beings above.
And such mortals are often somewhat foolish, willing to sacrifice themselves again and again, endlessly, to rescue the world from fire and tiger’s jaws.
A young family member boldly urged, “Grandfather, it is the New Year—just go for good fortune…”
Grand Tutor Zhu opened his mouth to say “I will not go,” but suddenly, a nightmare from the previous night flashed through his mind.
Perhaps due to constant thoughts, in recent days he had dreamt repeatedly of the girl facing danger on the battlefield…
Seeing his furrowed brow, the young relative forced a laugh, not daring to press further: “Since grandfather does not wish to go, then…”
“Who said I do not want to go?” Grand Tutor Zhu glared at him. “Let’s go.”
The young man was momentarily stunned… he had persuaded his grandfather?
Such a rare occurrence deserved a record in the family history!
The Zhu family went to Dayun Temple.
Grand Tutor Zhu, together with his family, offered incense at the main hall, then went alone to seek Wu Jue for a discussion on Buddhist teachings.
Before any teaching could begin, upon meeting, Wu Jue smiled: “You have finally come. Something has awaited you for a long time.”
Grand Tutor Zhu, puzzled, watched as Wu Jue turned and produced a painting box, handing it to him, explaining that it had been entrusted during Chang Suining’s departure from the capital.
Grand Tutor Zhu’s eyelids twitched; he almost cursed: “…Why hand it to me only now?”
Wu Jue had been a secretary to his student before death, and by rank he could easily have received a slap from the old tutor.
Wu Jue looked innocent: “I was entrusted by another, a matter of loyalty… I only intended to deliver it when you came to offer incense.”
Grand Tutor Zhu: “And if I never came in my life?”
Facing the tutor’s anger, Wu Jue did not flinch, even wearing a mysterious smile: “But you came, did you not? That is the guidance of fate.”
Hearing this, Grand Tutor Zhu ceased arguing, clutching the painting as he departed, still fuming.
Wu Jue breathed a sigh of relief.
He admitted he had been forgetful. Seeing the old man had suddenly reminded him of the painting.
Thankfully, the subtle Buddhist protection had shielded him, opening his mind—truly, Amitabha Buddha.
Wu Jue clasped his hands, facing the half-open window, looking south, whispering a prayer: “May all heavens and deities protect His Highness, and may the chaos soon be pacified.”
Regarding the receipt of the letter by Qiao Yang’s family, he felt no envy.
One only needs letters to explain the truth to those who do not understand it. He and the sovereign were mutually acquainted; no letter was needed.
Grand Tutor Zhu had just mounted his carriage back home when he could not wait to open the painting box.
He unrolled the painting, stopping suddenly halfway.
Then, with increased urgency, he fully revealed the painting before him.
It was a depiction of secluded mountains with bamboo and rocks.
When he had sought a painting at Dengtai Tower, he had requested one with bamboo and rocks for his bedside, to cultivate calm.
He loved bamboo and stone; moreover, his late student had excelled at painting plum, orchid, bamboo, and rock, with a distinct personal style.
Having seen the tiger paintings by the girl reminiscent of his student, he had subconsciously wondered how similar her bamboo-and-rock painting would be.
Now, he finally saw it.
Grand Tutor Zhu stared in disbelief, his hands trembling on the scroll.
How could it be so alike?
He hurriedly examined the painting and its details, seeking any trace of imitation.
After some time, he found none.
A flood of astonishment and doubt filled his chest, a buzzing in his ears, leaving him unnervingly unsettled.
The old man suddenly threw back the thick winter carriage curtain, shouting: “Stop!”
Outside, the cold wind swept in, mixed with the first falling snowflakes.
The coachman hurriedly restrained the horse: “Master?”
Other carriages halted in turn. The Zhu family’s young relatives dismounted and gathered around.
“Grandfather, what is the matter?”
“Father, are you unwell?”
Looking into their anxious eyes, Grand Tutor Zhu gradually found a trace of reality, then, through them, gazed toward the distant south.
“I am fine…” he explained, lowering the carriage curtain: “Proceed on the way.”
He returned to his seat, holding the painting again, feeling the icy cold of the scroll at his fingertips, yet sensing it burn as though aflame.
He had never believed in spirits or gods; if others mentioned them, he would sneer and feel disdain.
Yet at this moment, he fervently wished that such beings existed.
Even if it shattered the beliefs he had upheld his entire life, he would pray, hoping heaven, gods, and all spirits might open their eyes… whoever could return his student to him, he would kneel and bow before them!
As long as he could have his student back!
In the capital, the snow fell intermittently until New Year’s Eve.
In the Northern Lands, the snow had stopped, but ice and snow remained frozen in many places.
Within this frozen landscape, one man rode ahead, leading a troop, dismounting outside the Anbei Protectorate.
“The Grand General has returned!”
Messages relayed this, and a series of guards and officials came to greet the young man, who had been away for half a month, personally inspecting defenses.
Accompanied by his attendants, he walked into the Protectorate, asking: “Has any news come from the south?”
This was his first question upon dismounting.
Note: This excerpt sets up the chapter properly: Grand Tutor Zhu viewing the painting, while Sixth Young Master Cui has yet to read the letter. Next, the narrative will switch to Chang Suining’s camp for New Year’s celebrations.
