Naturally, Fan Xian would not tell the girl beside him what he was thinking. He just unconsciously sucked in a breath of cold air, as if he had a toothache. Haitang glanced at him and said nothing. She continued to walk along the Yuquan River. After walking for a short while, she came to the outskirts of a small garden. The bamboo fence was the door, the well was at the side of the courtyard, and the stone table was under the shade of the west. Yellow, mottled chicks were silently making a fortune from rice.
This was, of course, where Haitang grew vegetables.
Fan Xian shook his head helplessly. "People can't be compared to each other. To be honest, Miss has always put on an act of being close to nature, but compared to the stinking pigsty in the village, this elegant place, only now do I know that planting vegetables and raising chickens also need to pay attention to the realm. "
These words were clear praise, but they were actually derogatory. Haitang only smiled and said, "Do you think I'm happy to stay in Shangjing? But my teacher has orders, and the palace has a request, so I can only ask for a quiet garden nearby. "
Fan Xian laughed. "I'm afraid that Shen Zhong and the others plotted this garden for you to grow vegetables. What kind of good people and rich gentry did they harm?"
Haitang said, "That is what I do not know, and cannot control." She spoke indifferently, and Fan Xian also listened indifferently. This was one of the things he admired about Haitang. As a transcendent figure in Northern Qi, she did not forcefully pretend to be a fairy. She was not sour, not impatient, not deliberately indifferent. She just followed her heart, which was good.
Before the empress dowager's birthday banquet, there was a rare moment of leisure. Fan Xian temporarily cast aside the gloomy mood of these days. He rolled up his sleeves and rolled up his trousers. He took out some tools from behind the grindstone and began to help Haitang turn the soil. After the delicate yellow soil was turned, he scooped up a bowl of millet. Like a greedy dragon king, he stingily scattered it on the ground bit by bit, making the chicks squeak and follow his footsteps as they ran around the little courtyard.
Haitang crouched down to tidy up the branches and leaves of the fruits. She smiled as she watched Fan Xian play. Her gaze would occasionally land on his left leg.
Halfway through, Fan Xian was tired and a little hot. He picked up a bucket of water from the well and stuck his head in to drink a few mouthfuls. Just as he was about to touch the surface of the water, he glanced at Haitang out of the corner of his eye. He found that the girl was very skilled at tending to the vegetable beds. She must have done this often these past few years.
Fan Xian had never done farming since he was in Danzhou. Holding a hoe in his hand was not as comfortable as holding a dagger. When he was watering, it was not as refreshing as it was when he sprinkled poison. Clumsily, in the end, he was reduced to a spectator. Even so, he was so tired that his forehead was covered in sweat, and steam rose from his head.
As the sun rose higher into the sky, Haitang moved two reclining chairs and placed them under the trellis. Hanging on the trellis was some kind of melon or fruit. The leaves were huge and glossy green, blocking out all the sunlight.
Fan Xian let out a breath of hot air and sat down on the reclining chair. He bluntly accepted the herbal tea Haitang handed him, drank a few mouthfuls, and then fell back down, causing the chair to creak. He closed his eyes and began to take an afternoon nap, relaxing as if he were in his own home.
Haitang looked at him and smiled. She pulled off the flower scarf on her head and wiped the sweat from her forehead, then lay down as well.
Two bamboo chairs and a green canopy, a cool breeze, and two idle people.
...
...
After some time, Haitang suddenly broke the silence. "You really are a strange person."
"You are also a strange person." Fan Xian's eyes were still closed. "At least, up until now, I have not been able to see through you."
As the two spoke, they had already dropped the honorifics of "Sir Fan" and "Sir". Haitang felt a little more comfortable. She smiled. "Why must you see through someone? And what do you mean by see through? "
"Everyone does certain things for a certain purpose." A smile rose to the corner of Fan Xian's mouth. "And I do not know what your purpose is."
"My purpose?" Haitang fanned herself with the flower scarf. "Why must one live with a purpose?"
Fan Xian closed his eyes. He stretched out a finger and shook it. "Living is not about having a purpose. Everything we do, everything we want to achieve, is for the sake of living."
Haitang said, "I'm not used to talking in circles like this."
"I'm just talking nonsense, that's all." Fan Xian stretched. "I really like talking nonsense with you. It's a feeling that allows me to convince myself that I am indeed living, and not being controlled by the purpose of living."
Haitang spat. "You're still talking nonsense."
"I just like your … way of doing things." After saying this, Fan Xian couldn't help but laugh. "People like you and I who have no friends always want to find someone to talk to."
"Sir Fan, your talent is unparalleled, and your name is world-shaking. How can you not have friends?" For some reason, Haitang returned to calling him "Sir".
Fan Xian fell silent. After a while, he said, "I truly have no friends. And you are a proud son of Northern Qi. You and I are in opposing camps, but I feel that I can treat you as a friend. After all, when I was in Northern Qi, you couldn't have killed me. "
Haitang glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. This official from the south was so pretty that he was indeed a bit of a bastard. "Sir, you are of noble birth. After entering the capital, you have flourished. Your life has been straightforward, your career unhindered. The monarchs of both countries value you. What is there to be dissatisfied with?"
"Lonely. Lonely." Fan Xian didn't seem to think that these two words were a bit pretentious and nauseating.
Haitang laughed. "Sir Fan, you have someone as powerful as Yan Bingyun under your command. In the south, you are a powerful official of the Overwatch Council. You have a beautiful wife, and your sister is a famous talented woman. Your father is in a high position, and the people you associate with are all outstanding. How can you be lonely?"
"A father is a father, a wife is a wife, and a sister is a sister. Yan Bingyun is a subordinate, and the people I associate with all have conflicts of interest." Fan Xian didn't know why he was so magnanimous in front of Haitang. "You can think of me as pretending to be lonely, or pretending to be desperate. In any case, my position as an official is not easy, and my... son is not happy either. “
Haitang's eyes were as bright as the sky. "Sir Fan, could it be that you want to be friends with me?"
"Let's not talk about friends for now," Fan Xian said. "At least staying with you is more relaxing. This is an enjoyment that is hard to come by for me."
"What if I have other plans for you?"
"You won't," Fan Xian replied with great confidence.
"Sir, you seem to have forgotten that there is enmity between us."
"It doesn't matter. At least right now, if someone wants to kill me, you will certainly help me." Fan Xian's long-hidden weariness finally revealed some of it.
…
…
"Sir Fan, I've always been curious. Why... why were you willing to come to Northern Qi?" Haitang looked at him with a smile. Actually, the affairs of the southern officialdom were no secret in the north. Of course, she knew about the mysteries and the relationship between the Emperor's family.
Fan Xian laughed. "... I'm not telling you."
Haitang was speechless. Fan Xian turned over and got off the deck chair. He stretched. "I'm hungry."
Haitang replied, "There is rice in the house, water in the well, and vegetables in the garden. You can make it yourself."
Fan Xian sighed. "When a man... says to any woman other than his wife that he is hungry, he is usually saying that the liquor bug in his stomach is hungry."
— — —
The most luxurious, quiet, and well-organized restaurant in Shangjing was the Centenary Pine House. Today, an honored guest had arrived. This guest was quite expensive, so the owner of the Centenary Pine House personally waited outside. He respectfully asked all the guests to leave, leaving behind a spacious and quiet three-story building.
The owner of the restaurant was naturally surprised, but the owner did not explain. He was also a high-ranking person with informants in the court. He had long seen through the identity of the man and woman. The man was the immortal poet of the southern court, and the woman was the Emperor's aunt. The two of them together were characters who could take a stroll on the stone streets of the palace, let alone a restaurant.
In a private room facing the street, Fan Xian squinted at the scenery as he poured wine into his mouth. After drinking three cups, he frowned and called for the owner to come in for a change.
The owner saw that his complexion was not good, and immediately gave up on the idea of asking for the immortal poet's calligraphy. He went to Northern Qi's most famous green rice.
Fan Xian took a sip and nodded.
Haitang was a little annoyed. "Before, it was Wuliangye, the best liquor in the world. Is Master Fan not satisfied?"
"I do like to drink strong liquor." Fan Xian turned his head to look at her. His expression was a little strange. "But right now, I don't want to drink Wuliangye, because there's something else about it. I can't relax too much."
Wuliangye had the taste of Qingyu Hall, the taste of Ye, and the taste of Fan Xian. He didn't like it today.
Haitang fell silent again. She just watched Fan Xian drink. Her eyes grew brighter and brighter, as if she was enjoying something very interesting.
...
...
As he got tipsy, Fan Xian's eyes became a little hazy, and his smile became more relaxed. "Don't you think I've lived a happy life, and yet I'm pretending to drown my sorrows in wine? Is that funny?"
"Young people don't know the taste of sorrow …" Fan Xian tapped his chopsticks on the bowl and sang. This was the first poem he had "copied" since his reincarnation. Now that he thought back to the past, he felt even more complicated.
He sang softly again. "Stay in Qing, stay in Qing, suddenly meet my benefactor. Fortunately, mother, mother, accumulated a shady merit. Advise life, help the needy and help the poor. Don't be like my evil uncle and treacherous brother, who love money and forget his own flesh and blood. It is multiplication, division, addition and subtraction, above the firmament. "
This was the verdict of Sister Qiao in Dream of the Red Chamber: Leave Yu Qing.
Haitang's eyes shone even brighter.
Fan Xian let out a long sigh. He raised his cup and drained it in one gulp. "Miss Haitang, don't mind me. Just let me get drunk."
Why should I get drunk? There were many reasons why a man wanted to drink. The most adequate reason was that he was depressed and under pressure. On this trip to Northern Qi, Fan Xian had obtained the secret of the Temple, forged the friendship between the two countries, and successfully gathered the spy network in the North. No matter how one looked at it, it was a beautiful spring day. Why was he so gloomy? Where did that pressure come from?
It was actually very simple. He was gloomy because he had nowhere to go. Fan Xian had told Xiao En in the cave that he was a passer-by in this world, and so he had always viewed this world as a tourist. Even after 18 years of ups and downs, he still felt somewhat estranged from this world. If there was no Wan'er, if there was no sister, if there was no Wu Zhu, Fan Xian would have wanted nothing more than to be free and go to the world to enjoy himself.
The pressure came from the conversation in the cave. Chen Pingping had made Fan Xian set his sights higher, even higher than the world. After Fan Xian found out where the Temple was, he began to understand. He began to bear this pressure alone. And this secret, which concerned the world, had squeezed Xiao En for decades. Who knew how long it would continue to squeeze Fan Xian?
If he went to the Temple, of course, he would die a hundred times and survive. What about the people he wanted to protect? If he did not go, he would never know what had happened in the past. Fan Xian was very angry. Before he knew, he wanted nothing more than to dig Xiao En's head open. Now that he knew, he wished he never knew.
Originally, for the sake of safety, he should have returned to the capital and enjoyed a few years of glory in the officialdom and the business world, and buried the matter of the Temple forever in his heart. But he was always somewhat unwilling — so he somewhat hated himself for thinking so much about Ye Qingmei... and the mother of this body. So he did not want to drink the Five Grain Liquor. He even looked at the glass in his hand and felt the urge to throw it to the ground and shatter it.
The verdict given to Qiao Jie in Dream of the Red Chamber really seemed to be written for him.
Fortunately, he had been reborn, fortunately, he had met his benefactor, fortunately, he had his mother who had accumulated a shady skill, allowing him to easily and effortlessly obtain a large sum of wealth and the help of a large group of powerful people.
What should he do in the remaining years of his life?
...
...
Haitang's bright eyes seemed to be able to see through a person's heart. She slowly said, "Advise life, help the needy and comfort the poor."
Fan Xian was startled awake. Although he knew that even if he was dead drunk, he could not reveal his secrets in front of anyone, but... why would Haitang say this?
In truth, Haitang had only said this by chance. She looked at Fan Xian's slightly deranged expression and thought of the legendary banquet in the palace of the Southern Dynasty, when the immortal of poetry first appeared in the world. She thought that Fan Xian's path of life had been set, and endless prosperity had come along the way, but he had developed a world-weary and decadent heart.
This kind of situation was very common in scholars, so Haitang had said this quietly purely from the bottom of her heart. She wanted to advise Fan Xian to wholeheartedly serve the people of the world... because Haitang had always believed that Fan Xian was, in his bones, a scholar!
"The world is bustling with activity, all for the sake of profit," Fan Xian said mockingly. "Miss Haitang cultivates the way of the gods. She is close to nature and cherishes the people, but she does not know that they only want profit. I have no ambition to open up new territories, and I also want the people of the world to live a bit more comfortably. But that must be me first... but to let the people live a bit more comfortably, I must hold power in my hands. But in the court of this world, if you want to hold a high position, how can you live comfortably? "
Haitang heard the cold intent in his words and was slightly startled. "Master Fan, you hold power in your hands. Please remember the word 'righteousness'."
"Too vulgar, too vulgar." Fan Xian knocked his chopsticks against the ground, but the porcelain bowl did not shatter.
...
...
"How many people are different from animals?" Haitang continued to frown. "Only righteousness is in the ears of the people. Although Master Fan and I live in different countries, the people of the world, whether the people of the Kingdom of Qing or the people of the Kingdom of Qi, are all unique creatures. If you still have any reverence for the word 'righteousness', I hope that after you return to your country, you will do your best to stop the world from fighting again. "
Stopping the world from fighting - this was Haitang's goal, the goal that Fan Xian had always guessed! It was a very large memorial archway. If someone else had said it, they would have found it disgusting. But coming from Haitang, it seemed very natural and easy to believe.
Fan Xian laughed mockingly. "Then Xiao En is not a living creature?"
Haitang said, "Killing one Xiao En can save tens of thousands of people. Why not?" If Xiao En escaped from prison and joined forces with Shang Shanhu and his son, his imperial power would soar. Then he would spit out the secret of the temple. With the ambitions of the young Emperor of Northern Qi, the world would probably be plunged into the fires of war in a few years. So what she said made some sense.
Fan Xian had no awareness of a politician or a moralist. He laughed coldly. "If a hundred people have to die, kill forty-nine, and live fifty-one. Will you kill them, or not?"
Haitang was silent for a long time.
"So, you and I are both heartless." Fan Xian suddenly did not want to talk about such uninteresting topics, and rather stiffly changed the subject. "How different are humans from animals? ... good at pretending. “
Haitang raised her head in surprise.
Fan Xian said, "My martial cultivation is not as good as yours. But if we were to fight to the death, you might not be able to kill me so easily."
Haitang nodded.
Fan Xian drank a cup of wine and looked into her eyes. "Why?" he said quietly. "Because I am good at using all the tools I have."
"In martial cultivation, the most important thing is to cultivate the heart. The power of external objects cannot be relied on for long," Haitang replied quietly.
Fan Xian shook his head. "Those who value righteousness do not necessarily use it to their fullest potential. Those who seek profit do not necessarily lack righteousness. Righteousness is great profit. As long as the goal is correct, why care about the means? "
After saying this, Fan Xian was stunned. This small talk was meant to divert the topic, but it had inadvertently touched upon his own heart. It was like a ray of light had suddenly struck his heart, and he immediately understood what his true feelings were. A heartless person? Perhaps he was a sentimental person at heart.
All his life, he had always said that he wanted to live well, but he never knew how to live well. Today, he finally had a chance. At this moment, his heart was sober, but his eyes were strong with alcohol. He stared at Haitang and slowly said two words. "Thank you."
Haitang was at a complete disadvantage in terms of words today, but it was not like He Shiran. Hearing the word "thank you," she felt a little lost in her heart. Looking at the determination in Fan Xian's drunken eyes, she suddenly felt a little uneasy. She thought for a moment, and her eyes became clearer. "Given your talent, the south will be a good stage in the future. Since you do not wish to fight, you are my friend. I hope that when you rise to the Thousand Mountains, you will be careful and think of the people. Do not have the slightest complacency. This is the right path. "
Fan Xian gently placed his wine cup on the table and said quietly, "Don't worry, I have just started."
…
…
Other than Ku He, Haitang was the number one ace in Northern Qi. With such a beautiful woman guarding him, all of the hesitation in his heart was dispelled. Fan Xian drank to his heart's content. Although he was a bit childish and refused to drink Wuliangye, he had drunk too much green rice. In the end, his throat was dry and spicy, his chest swelled, and his mind was muddled. He floated back to his senses and happily collapsed on the table.
This was the first time since Fan Xian had opened the chest that he had become so drunk that he had lost consciousness. It was in a restaurant in the enemy country of Shangjing, and in front of Haitang, who he did not know was friend or foe. Acting like this was really old-fashioned and stupid.
"You really are a person who cannot be seen through." Haitang looked at Fan Xian, who had collapsed on the table and was sleeping sweetly like a child. She smiled. "I have always wanted to see Sir Xueqin."
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