The Village Schoolmaster

Chapter 466: The Reason

Face to face with Master Wu’s words, his wife didn’t even acknowledge him. She walked straight outside, picked up a winnowing basket, and nimbly climbed the bamboo ladder to the roof to collect the white radishes.

Master Wu dawdled as he dressed, then turned to head in for dinner. His expression finally softened a little when he saw the egg sitting in his bowl of noodle soup.

After finishing his meal, he dropped his chopsticks and bowl onto the table with a clatter, tucked both hands behind his back, and strode out.

Outside, it was just dusk. The yellow-orange sunset light fell across his face, making it look even more sallow.

A cold, slick strip of white radish peel came sailing down from the rooftop, slipping right down the back of his neck. “Wash the dishes! What are you standing there gawking for?”

“Ow! Ow!” He fumbled inside his clothes, trying to dig out the peel, as he scurried toward the courtyard gate.

He walked all the way to the left side of the Bai family ancestral hall, then snorted at the direction of his own house. “Hmph! The Sage was right—women and petty men are the hardest to deal with~”

He smoothed the wrinkles on his robe with a leisurely air. Just as he turned, he was startled by a fawning old face directly in front of him.

“Hehehe~ Master Wu, off to teach? Mind if I walk with you?” Lü Zhuangyuan, cradling his grandson, asked with an ingratiating smile.

Master Wu gave Lü Zhuangyuan a somewhat contemptuous once-over and started walking toward the schoolhouse.

“Teach? That’s giving them too much credit. Teaching them can only be called ‘opening the ignorant mind.’ Every last one of them has terrible comprehension—playing the lute to a cow day in and day out.”

“Hehe, of course, of course. They’re no good, they’re all past the right age. None of them are cut out to study and pass the imperial exams. Our little one, though—now he’s at the perfect age to start learning his characters!” Lü Zhuangyuan proudly lifted the infant in his arms and gave him a little bounce.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t bring a baby that hasn’t even reached his first full year to the schoolhouse! He can’t understand a word I say!”

“Ah, but Master Wu, a child at this age is just learning to speak! A little exposure to the words of the sages can’t hurt, can it? Maybe some of it will sink in.”

“Tch. Playing the lute to a cow. Playing the lute to a cow.” Master Wu kept shaking his head as he walked toward the schoolhouse.

By the time he arrived, the others were already waiting. As soon as they saw the Master, the chatter died down.

Master Wu’s gaze fell on a figure in the corner of the room—a man in a conical hat and a straw rain-cape—and his brow furrowed slightly.

Compared to before the Heavenly Calamity, this man had grown taller and sturdier. Even standing perfectly still, the oppressive aura radiating from him made Master Wu feel deeply uneasy.

More importantly, during the Calamity, he hadn’t been blind. He had seen the supernatural abilities those people unleashed.

Thinking back on that, Master Wu didn’t even dare to imagine what might be under that straw cape right now.

The Sage once said: A learned man respects ghosts and spirits, but keeps his distance from them.

He, too, wanted to keep his distance. But he didn’t dare. He was terrified that if he didn’t follow their orders, his fate would be miserable.

He had lived a long life and had read plenty of storybooks about wicked men who had mastered supernatural powers. Once they gained their abilities, they ran amok, bullying men and women alike, treating human life like grass.

Every time he imagined the horrors from those books happening to him, his body would start trembling uncontrollably.

So for now, all he could do was muddle through from day to day. The only consolations were that the silver was still being paid on time, and the villagers still treated him with respect.

He swept his gaze quickly across the room, then frowned slightly. “Eh? Why are there fewer people than usual today?”

“Master, Gao Zhijian is recruiting village militia. Word is, if you pass selection, you get paid. So everyone went.”

“But Gao Zhijian’s standards are strict. A lot of people won’t make the cut. They’ll probably be back soon.”

Master Wu’s tone softened slightly as he looked at Zhao Wu, the only one among them who could be called diligent in his studies. “I see. So why didn’t you go?”

Zhao Wu patted his own feeble legs with a bitter expression. “Master, you jest. With a body like mine, I don’t need to try to know the outcome.”

Master Wu nodded in understanding. With a light cough, he began the lesson.

Throughout the session, people came and went from the schoolhouse. Whether they were bored or needed to relieve themselves, Master Wu paid them no mind, focusing entirely on his own work.

Before he knew it, the night had grown deep. His throat dry from lecturing, he looked at the yawning faces below him and waved a hand.

“That’s enough for today. Remember: review the old and learn the new. I’ll be asking questions tomorrow.”

His day’s work done, Master Wu picked up his lantern and headed home.

The streets were quiet and deserted at this hour. Walking down them, Master Wu had to admit he was a little nervous—especially after the recent Heavenly Calamity.

But he didn’t dare show it. He was terrified that his cowardly expression might be seen by those dull-witted students of his. He was a learned man, after all.

As he walked, he reached the Bai family ancestral hall. His steps became lighter.

Living in the village, it was hard to avoid the rumors. Word had it that many people had met violent deaths inside that hall.

“I am a learned man. My body is filled with righteous qi. I do not speak of strange forces and chaotic spirits. All evil shall retreat before me!” Master Wu muttered, stringing together contradictory phrases as he tried to reassure himself.

Just as he passed the Bai family ancestral hall and let out a sigh of relief, a wooden mask suddenly lunged out of the darkness.

Half of Master Wu’s startled shriek was cut off as a vermillion wooden hand clamped firmly over his mouth. “Shut it. I’m not here to kill you. I’m looking for someone. Do you know where a man named Erjiu lives in this village?”

Seeing the Master frozen stiff as a board, Liu Zongyuan asked again. “What? Don’t know? Wears a red Daoist robe. Always has two swords strapped to his back.”

Following the trembling finger pointing in a certain direction, Liu Zongyuan cast a contemptuous glance at the man’s now-soaked trousers, then turned and headed that way.

He hadn’t gone far before he spotted an open second-story window in a large courtyard. “Brother Liu, I’m not in a position to move easily at the moment. Come in and we’ll talk.”

Liu Zongyuan moved with the agility of a monkey, planting a foot against the wall, hooking his right hand, and slipping straight inside.

No sooner had he entered than he saw the red-robed Daoist sitting there like a warlord on a throne. A horrifying, skinless beast crouched silently at his left hand, staring at him with lidless eyes.

“Brother Liu, you’re looking well, I trust?” At Erjiu’s inquiry, Liu Zongyuan snapped out of his daze and looked at the man’s gauze-covered eyes.

“What happened to those peepers of yours?”

“A few things happened during the Heavenly Calamity. I lost my eyesight. No matter, it’s a minor injury. I’m just a bit surprised that Brother Liu came back.”

“Well, I rushed over as soon as I got your letter. You’re holed up in this place, you wouldn’t know—things are a mess outside.”

“Yes, I imagine so. And regarding this Heavenly Calamity, Brother Liu, do you have any news? Two Heavenly Calamities in the span of two years… it seems like an ominous omen.”

“Sigh.” Liu Zongyuan let out a soft sigh and sat down beside Li Huowang. “You don’t need me to tell you. Anyone who isn’t blind can see it. What I’ve heard is that the big shots in the Supervisory Heavenly Office already knew about this Calamity long before it happened.”

“They knew in advance? Isn’t the Supervisory Heavenly Office’s job to monitor the heavens? If they knew, why didn’t they stop it? Or was the extent of their intervention limited to what we saw?”

“Slap!” Liu Zongyuan smacked his hands together in frustration. “You think they didn’t try? You think all that commotion in the capitol was for show? Pah! Those goddamn Zuowandao sabotaged it all!”