He really envied the times when he was studying in his previous life. He had fantasized about reading at night, so he had dragged Sisi along to accompany him to write for half a day. Smelling the incense in the room, the fragrance of a woman's body, and the soft brush tip touching the paper, he enjoyed the wonderful feeling of tranquility.
But he was afraid that if word got out that he was writing a book, it would bring him a lot of unnecessary trouble. So he decided to quietly write on his own in the future.
Fan Xian always felt that he had to prepare for his future life in the capital, both materially and spiritually. And for a long story like "Dream of the Red Chamber", it was impossible to be like plagiarizing a poem and blurt it out at a banquet. So it had to be prepared in advance.
For some reason, he always felt that his future life would be inextricably linked to the heart of the Kingdom of Qing, the faraway capital. Perhaps it would be his father who was a high-ranking official in the court, or perhaps it would be the silly little girl in his mind, or perhaps it would be his mother who he had never met, but was always curious about.
He thought for a while, then put pen to paper and finished writing about the unspeakable things about Bao Yu and Qin Zhong'er. When the ink dried, he put it in an envelope, ready to mail it to Fan Ruoruo in the capital.
Fan Xian did not keep any manuscripts in his mansion in Danzhou. Every time he wrote one, he would send it to the capital. Because it was really difficult for him to suppress his desire to share the beautiful experiences of his previous life with the people of this world. It was like someone who possessed the most beautiful jade in the world, one that no one had ever seen before, and hid it under his bed for many years. His heart must be itching to die, and he would always want to let the whole world — no, at least one person — know of the breathtaking beauty of the jade.
A collector who kept a famous painting for a lifetime and never showed it to anyone, if he was not a pervert, then he was a thief who stole the painting.
And Fan Xian knew that he was definitely not a pervert. Although he was indeed a thief, the wonderful thing was that no one in the world knew about it.
So Fan Xian completely ignored Fan Ruoruo's age and sent her the manuscripts every month. He told her that the story was called "Story of the Stone," and that it was written by a man named Cao Xueqin, whom he had met by chance. Every month, he would get a few manuscripts from him to share with his sister, and so on.
Although in the first fifteen chapters of Dream of the Red Chamber, Qin Keqing met Baoyu in her dreams and Baoyu had his first love affair, Fan Xian was certain that the little girl, under the influence of his letters for so many years, would not see it as a scourge or a ferocious beast, nor would she see her brother as a perverted person.
Sure enough, when Fan Ruoruo received Grandmaster Cao's writing, she read it ignorantly and chewed it as if it was a peony. She slowly tasted some flavor, especially after she saw Dai Yu enter the mansion, she began to feel good. Every month she would write letters to her brother urging him to ask more from Grandmaster Cao.
When Fan Xian received the letter, he couldn't help but feel depressed. Now that the manuscript was gone, he couldn't update it too quickly. In the future, when he copied 70 or 80 chapters, he would still end up as a eunuch.
…
…
After finishing his task of plagiarizing for the day, Fan Xian began to read as usual. There were many miscellaneous books in his study, all of which had been sent by the Count in the capital. Every time he thought of this, his impression of his father, whom he had never met, would change. At least his father knew what was most important in the process of a person's growth.
In a country without AV or scams, the only way Fan Xian could distract himself from his boring life, other than playing hide-and-seek with the powerful zhenqi in his body every day and making the maids blush in embarrassment, was to read the miscellaneous books in the study.
The contents of the books covered a wide range of topics, from farming to the laws of the Kingdom of Qing. There was nothing that was not covered. There were also some scriptures from this world, which filled the entire bookshelf like bricks.
Fan Xian had made this bookshelf according to the style he had in mind. It was a very simple design. Each layer was filled with rue grass from Yaozhou. This grass was the best at preventing moths from corroding books. However, few people in this world knew about it, so it was only used as a common perfume in the manor.
After reading these books for many years, Fan Xian discovered many traces of what he had learned in his previous life. The only difference was in the way they were expressed. This understanding made him put an end to the idea of plagiarizing Han Feizi, Xunzi, Laozi, Sun Tzu, and Sun Tzu to become a great scholar.
No matter what aspect of learning, whether it was poison discerning, cultivation, or reading, Fan Xian was very serious. With a steadiness and hard work that did not match his age, he continued to accumulate knowledge. This was because he understood that he was not much more than other people. He had not come to a perfect world with an average IQ of 50. The only advantages he had were the little bit of knowledge that had settled down in society on Earth, and the fact that he had awakened much earlier than most children.
There was a light sound from the oil lamp, and a small ball of flame jumped out. It suddenly became a little brighter. Fan Xian bent over the table and read, gradually falling asleep.
The next morning, after waking up and washing up, Fan Xian first went to the old lady's bedroom to pay his respects before going to the hall for breakfast. Ever since the incident with the assassins, the way Fan Xian looked at his grandmother was very different from before. Apart from the morning and afternoon greetings that he had insisted on for many years, he would often chat with his kind-looking grandmother, telling her a few jokes to make her happy.
"I heard that one day, His Majesty summoned the Prime Minister, the Consular Ministers of the Council of Elders, the Director of the Overwatch Council, the head of the palace eunuchs, and a group of high-ranking officials to the great hall to discuss state affairs. In the end, a meteor fell from the sky and smashed through the roof of the hall, crushing all the ministers who were kneeling below. His Majesty hurriedly summoned the imperial physician, who was waiting outside the sickroom. Not long after, the imperial physician came out. His Majesty asked, "Imperial physician, can the Prime Minister be saved?" The imperial physician shook his head, "The Prime Minister cannot be saved."
At the beginning of the joke, the old lady's face was full of suspicion. She did not know why the child was talking about the affairs of the capital. She had personally experienced the treacherous aspects of power, so she had always been cautious.
"His Majesty asked," What about the Consular Ministers? " The imperial physician shook his head dejectedly, "Alas... they cannot be saved." His Majesty asked, "Eunuch Hong?" The imperial physician still shook his head. His Majesty was furious, and shouted, "Then who can be saved?" The imperial physician's spirits rose, and he said, "Your Majesty, the Kingdom of Qing can be saved!"
Hearing the last sentence, the old woman suddenly woke up. She laughed so hard that she almost cried. Pointing at Fan Xian's innocent face, she laughed and scolded him. "You little mischievous brat. If this was in the capital, you'd be arrested by the Overwatch Council for this joke."
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
