Chapter 43

The Bamboo Garden was bright with sunlight as the skies cleared after the rain.

Rong Mo had just returned from outside when he saw his little fiancée eating and drinking in his courtyard. A doting smile broke through his usually expressionless, handsome face.

“Ruyi, what brings you here?”

Cheng Ruyi finished a piece of dried meat. Seeing her fiancé’s tall figure appear before her, her eyes snapped bright with excitement.

“A-Mo, you’re back! I heard you saved a scholar.”

Recently, their relationship had progressed by leaps and bounds. Cheng Ruyi felt that calling each other by their names was more intimate, so she had asked Rong Mo to change how he addressed her, and she had done the same for him.

Rong Mo was delighted. Especially when he heard his little fiancée call him “A-Mo” so affectionately, his heart felt as if it had been dipped in honey, the sweetness seeping deep into his soul.

“Mm, I ran into him and saved him in passing.” Rong Mo dismissed the servants and strode forward to sit beside Cheng Ruyi. He gave her a lingering, affectionate kiss on the cheek, then took a slice of watermelon she offered and began to eat elegantly.

This watermelon was grown by his little fiancée using her mysterious ability. The taste was superb; not only did it clear the summer heat, but it also left one feeling refreshed and comfortable.

It was a highly coveted treat. His aunt and uncle loved it most of all.

“The capital is so lively lately,” Cheng Ruyi asked, puzzled. “Didn’t they say there’s a major natural disaster coming next year? Why hasn’t the Imperial Examination been cancelled? They should let everyone stay home and stockpile grain.”

Rong Mo smiled slightly. He placed the melon rind on the table, washed his hands in a nearby bronze basin, and then pulled his little fiancée into his lap before answering her unhurriedly.

“There is no disaster this year, so the exams won’t be cancelled. Stockpiling grain cannot be rushed. The Court has issued orders that no one dares to hike grain prices on the market, so people can buy and hoard with peace of mind. After the autumn harvest, everyone will store up food. It shouldn’t be difficult to survive the disasters of the next two years.”

Cheng Ruyi snuggled lazily against Rong Mo’s chest, nibbling on her dried meat every now and then.

“So that’s how it is. With grain prices so low, won’t other countries come to buy up our food?”

Rong Mo chuckled. If his little fiancée could think of it, the Great Zhou Court certainly had as well.

“The Court blocked trade routes with other nations last month; grain will not flow out. Now, many wealthy families have begun moving their households to provinces near the sea.”

Cheng Ruyi looked proud. “We have the Thousand-Year Ancient Tree, so we aren’t afraid of a great drought. We can store plenty of ice in the winter to last a year without a problem. There’s no need to trek all the way to the coast.”

Rong Mo gazed softly at his little fiancée’s spirited expression, the corners of his mouth curving upward.

“Indeed. Thanks to you, we don’t have to mobilize for a grand migration.”

His little fiancée truly was a great lucky star.

“Of course! Look who I am.” Cheng Ruyi lifted her chin, acting quite smug. Then, as if remembering something, she said with great enthusiasm:

“A-Mo, I want to learn to play the zither (Guqin).”

“Why the sudden interest in the zither?”

Rong Mo raised an eyebrow in surprise. His little fiancée had never shown interest in the “Four Arts” (zither, go, calligraphy, painting) typical of a noble lady. He was suddenly curious.

“There are so many scholars in the capital for the exams lately. I wandered around a bit and heard something very interesting—and very challenging,” Cheng Ruyi said, her eyes sparkling.

Rong Mo suddenly had a bad feeling. “What is it?”

“A scholar was telling a legendary story he read. He said there was a student who failed the exams repeatedly and was so poor his family could barely eat. But he was a master of the zither. Unfortunately, the commoners were poor and the wealthy had their own musicians, so his skills were useless. He ended up playing the zither for the two old hens at his house.”

“With that playing, the student discovered a path to wealth! It turns out the two hens laid eggs much more frequently after listening to his music. Before, they went days without laying; after hearing him play, they laid twice a day!”

Cheng Ruyi told the story with animated gestures.

“The student was overjoyed! He took his meager savings to buy more hens and played for them every day. They laid eggs even faster. Not only that, but the hens would dance to the music! Because they moved so much, their meat became firm and delicious, and all the big restaurants scrambled to buy them.”

“And so, the student became a famous professional chicken farmer!”

Excitedly finishing the story, Cheng Ruyi gave a slightly embarrassed smile, but her eyes were glowing like burning flames. “So, I want to learn the zither. That way, I can have mountains of eggs!”

She had always been obsessed with food.

In truth, the poultry she fed with vegetables accelerated by her wood-element ability was already delicious, but she felt that lacked challenge. She loved a challenge. She had heard the scholar say many people had tried it and failed, but she, Cheng Ruyi, was no ordinary person. She would surely succeed.

Rong Mo’s lip twitched. Isn’t that just a folk legend of the Great Zhou?

Who knew how many scholars that story had tricked into trying to strike it rich by raising chickens?

“Ahem… Ruyi, those legends are just stories. I heard many zither-playing scholars were fooled by that. Playing for hens is just a figment of people’s imagination; it’s baseless nonsense.”

Cheng Ruyi waved him off dismissively, looking confident. “A-Mo, don’t pour cold water on me. I won’t be fooled. Those scholars failed because their skills weren’t up to par. It’s normal for them to fail.”

Big Sister once told me that before the apocalypse, Kobe beef from Japan was world-famous because the cows listened to music and got massages every day. That’s why the beef had such ‘extraordinary character’ and ‘exquisite taste.’ So, hens laying more eggs to music isn’t nonsense at all. Cousin just hasn’t seen enough of the world.

Rong Mo: “…”

His little fiancée was certainly confident. Well, fine; only after trying it herself would she know the truth.

“Tomorrow, I will find you a master zitherist.”

Cheng Ruyi happily kissed Rong Mo’s handsome face. “A-Mo, you’re the best!”

Rong Mo gave a helpless smile.

The news that the eldest Miss of the Marquis of Changle’s Manor wanted to learn the zither spread quickly.

Many noble ladies in the capital heard this and wanted to watch the “uncultured” Miss make a fool of herself. It gave them a great sense of superiority. Lately, Cheng Ruyi had been far too popular. If it weren’t for her “poor taste” in choosing a cousin living under her roof as a fiancé, these ladies—all skilled in embroidery and the arts—would have felt trampled under her feet.

Cheng Qingyao, who had been busy building her reputation among the scholars, was overjoyed. Ruyi is starting to court disaster in new ways again. Wonderful!

She had heard that Ruyi’s wedding dress was entirely done by seamstresses, with Ruyi only handling the final thread—how humiliating. Yet Ruyi was still so smug about it.

Cheng Ruyi treated the outside gossip like a breeze past her ears; it left no trace. Her mindset was incredibly resilient.

Rong Susu had worried her daughter would be affected, but seeing Ruyi’s calm demeanor, she felt relieved. Truly her daughter.

“Daughter, Rong Mo has invited a zither master. Apparently, this master’s playing attracts birds and butterflies. He is the most popular musician in the Palace.”

Cheng Ruyi was overjoyed. “Is he really that amazing?”

Rong Susu nodded, a hint of excitement on her beautiful face. “Very. Even the current Emperor loves listening to him.”

“A-Mo is so capable, to even be able to invite such a master,” Cheng Ruyi’s eyes sparkled.

“It wasn’t Rong Mo; it was Prince Pingnan’s doing,” the Marquis of Changle said as he strolled over, casually deflating the praise.

Cheng Ruyi huffed unhappily. “…It’s still A-Mo’s credit! Prince Pingnan only invited the master because of A-Mo.”

Marquis of Changle: “…”

It hurts… my daughter’s heart is leaning more and more toward that Rong Mo brat.

Rong Susu covered her mouth and giggled. Her husband was regressing with age, actually getting jealous of Rong Mo.

When she thought of the noble ladies who had come to curry favor—only to turn green with envy and bitterness upon learning that her daughter’s teacher was the most famous master in the Palace—she felt extremely gratified. It was a wonderful feeling of vindication.

The invited Palace master was named Gongsun Yi. Master Gongsun was born into a family of musicians, and his zither skills were divine. Teaching the famous “ignorant” Miss Cheng was, in many eyes, a massive waste of talent—like using a dragon-slaying blade to kill a chicken.

It made those who had begged to be his students feel utterly indignant.

Cheng Qingyao had wanted to laugh at Cheng Ruyi, but when she learned that someone who knew nothing could actually secure Master Gongsun, her eyes turned red. Jealousy spread through her heart like wildfire.

Why does that useless Cheng Ruyi have such good luck?

She recalled when she had tried to apprentice under a much lower-ranking musician from Master Gongsun’s clan, and even that master had looked down on her. She couldn’t even compare to a blockhead like Cheng Ruyi…

Struck by this blow, Cheng Qingyao once again spat blood and fainted.

In the Marquis of Jian’an’s Manor, Cheng Wanru—who was preparing for her own marriage—heard of Cheng Qingyao’s fainting spell and curled her lip in a mocking smile. A flash of satisfaction crossed her elegant features.

For the next few days, Cheng Ruyi studied zither seriously under Master Gongsun Yi, starting from the very basics.

Master Gongsun was a handsome, refined middle-aged man. When he smiled, he gave off a feeling like a warm spring breeze. Cheng Ruyi quite liked him; he looked a bit like her father from the post-apocalyptic world. Because of this, she was very close to him. Every time the Marquis saw his daughter being so friendly with the master, he was overcome with jealousy.

His daughter was being snatched away!

It’s all that Rong Mo brat’s fault. Of all things to find, why bring over a handsome old man who looks just as good as he does?

Gongsun Yi lived up to his title as a master. He was not only good-tempered but also possessed great grace. He taught Miss Cheng with his full heart and infinite patience. Even the Marquis sitting nearby, staring at him like a hawk, didn’t bother him.

After several days of hard work on theory, the highly spirited Cheng Ruyi—relying on her powerful mental strength—quickly passed Master Gongsun’s tests and finally got to actually play the strings.

It was so exciting!

Looking at the zither before her, Cheng Ruyi seemed to see the future Marquis of Changle’s Manor filled with mountains of eggs.

Just thinking about it made her thrilled!

Sansukini: I swear Chen Qingyao will perish from loss of blood. 😂😂

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