Chapter 138: Of Life and Death

Le Wuya carried Xiang Zhi on his back, patiently listening as the performer finished singing this act and swept off the stage, before asking as if he didn't know: "May I ask, Seventh Prince, how is this supposed to be my play?"

"Assuming a false identity, pulling the wool over everyone's eyes..." Xiang Zhi rested his sharp little chin on his shoulder. "Isn't that precisely what Prefect Wenren excels at?"

Le Wuya shook his head with mock solemnity: "What a grave injustice."

"Still crying foul. But Prefect Wenren's love of flirting has never been wrongly accused, has it? First General Pei, then County Princess Qi—quite the ladies' man, truly." Xiang Zhi warned him, "Once we reach the crowd, your reputation will be ruined."

Xiang Zhi was dead set on ruining his reputation.

Yet, the closer they got to the place of music and festivity, the more restless he became, squirming and fidgeting like he had ants in his pants.

After passing a young servant carrying a stack of empty pastry plates—who kept glancing at him curiously—Xiang Zhi couldn't take it anymore.

He nudged Le Wuya, his face on fire: "Fine, you win. Put me down now."

Le Wuya's body in this life was that of a scholar after all, without the martial arts foundation from his past life. He didn't have much stamina, and carrying him all this way had left his legs trembling and his heart pounding.

But that didn't stop him from cooking up trouble.

He had sensed earlier that Little Seven was restless, and now hearing his voice tighten with a hint of trembling, his ears perked up and he figured out what he was up to:

This little one—petty, thin-skinned, all talk and no bite.

He was itching to cause trouble, so he played dumb: "What for?"

Xiang Zhi could hear the teasing in his voice, of course. "Put me down!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Le Wuya grabbed his legs, holding him steady. "Don't get down. You're my big shot—I've got to show you off to everyone."

Hearing this, Xiang Zhi was about to blow his top: "You're beyond shameless! You, you, you..."

He struggled to get down, but earlier, in his excitement, he had wrapped himself tightly around Le Wuya's waist, putting himself right in Le Wuya's grip.

Unable to break free, he fell back on tickling Le Wuya instead.

Le Wuya couldn't handle that at all. He immediately lost his balance, stumbled a couple of steps, and burst out laughing.

Xiang Zhi sensed trouble at once, froze, and clamped both hands over Le Wuya's mouth, trying not to draw any attention.

Seeing that the area where the officials were seated was just ahead, Xiang Zhi, for all his many talents, could do nothing at this critical moment.

"Teacher!" Xiang Zhi blurted out, panicking. "...Teacher."

Le Wuya's heart suddenly melted: "..."

Tch. Forget it.

He crouched down and gently set Xiang Zhi back on the ground.

Back on solid ground, Xiang Zhi said nothing, quickly straightening himself out with his head bowed. A long moment passed, yet the tips of his ears were still red.

Le Wuya pulled out his folding fan and gently fanned him, not a single serious word in his mouth: "What's the matter, Seventh Prince? Face all red?"

Xiang Zhi didn't look up.

Le Wuya went "ah" and said with a grin: "Maybe it's too hot? Want me to have Lord Feng bring you some iced custard with extra raisins?"

Xiang Zhi's shoulders heaved noticeably.

Seeing him so flustered and innocent, Le Wuya toned down his teasing a little.

...He seemed to have gotten ahead of himself.

In the past, Le Wuya had honestly thought it over and concluded that in his previous life, he'd given those two brothers his all—dutiful and wholehearted.

He'd taught them thoroughly, holding nothing back; and even when he was dying, he remembered to comfort the kid—enough to move heaven and earth, worthy of a shrine.

But after his adventures in Xingtai and the trip to the capital, he discovered that his impressions and understanding of Xiaoliu and Xiaoqi had been way off.

Xiaoliu was good with a streak of bad; Xiaoqi was naughty but obedient at heart.

As they say, an untaught son is the father's fault, but lax teaching is the teacher's too.

Should he change his approach and stop treating them like kids?

While Le Wuya was busy reflecting on himself, Xiang Zhi quietly kept his head down, one hand gripping his knee, the other over his heart, waiting for his face to cool down.

Last time he called Le Wuya "teacher" was when he'd picked up on the clues of his reunion with the Yue family, and after getting drunk, he'd thrown a big fit.

From then on, he'd just assumed that the Wen Ren before him was the reincarnation of his "teacher."

Whether the man liked it or not, whether he wanted it or not.

Though there were plenty of red flags, Xiang Zhi ignored them all.

Wen Ren Yue's concern for Xiang Zhi Jie—Xiang Zhi chalked it up to "natural bias."

Wen Ren Yue "remembered" the Yue family but didn't remember him—Xiang Zhi concluded that after reincarnation, he'd lost all his memories, that he still had some leftover fondness for the Yue family, and that he himself had never done anything good for him, only ever causing him trouble. That he didn't want to remember him was infuriating, but understandable.

Ever since he'd figured out who he was, Xiang Zhi had done no small amount of foolish things.

Not only had he quarreled with a foreigner out of jealousy on the main street, but he had even used his mother's family's name to come running to an official's birthday party.

But today, Xiang Zhi couldn't stop thinking about his teacher.

...The real one.

The one with the hypocritical smile, selfish and spiteful, who after killing his own master had nowhere to run and could only hide in his arms, patiently playing "guess who I am" with him.

The teacher who was gone.

Xiang Zhi looked down and clenched the little golden peanut in his palm.

He gripped it so tightly that he even snapped the chain clasp that had long since gotten weak.

This teacher in front of him had a bold, carefree smile, walked the line between good and evil, and had the makings of a pillar of the nation.

This was a teacher who was alive and kicking.

Before, it was always Le Wuya guessing who he was; now it was his turn to guess who the teacher was.

And Wen Ren Yue refused to give him a straight answer, leaving his heart in constant limbo.

Four years ago, Le Wuya had been the same to him—like a wind he could never pin down.

Yet that wind named "Le Wuya" had been captured by him, personally given a proper burial, lying securely within his small golden peanut, unable to go anywhere else.

Xiang Zhi looked up at Le Wuya, clutching his ashes in his hands, his gaze dazed and bewildered.

Le Wuya met his eyes and couldn't help but be startled.

What trick is this kid cooking up now?

Xiang Zhi's gaze gradually focused, seeing the man before him standing amid green trees and bright sunlight, radiant and spirited, his eyes and brows aglow.

"I called you by the wrong name just now," Xiang Zhi said. "The Prefect Wenren won't take offense, will he?"

Le Wuya keenly sensed the shift in his mood, and slightly puzzled, raised an eyebrow: "Of course not."

"Let's go." Xiang Zhi stretched lazily. "Your 'White Snake' is coming up."

Sure enough, Le Wuya looked into the distance and saw a woman dressed in white, playing the role of the White Snake, take the stage, her voice mournful, the tune melodious: "West Lake remains as it was back then; look at Broken Bridge, unbroken, yet my heart is broken inch by inch..."

Hearing this lyric, Xiang Zhi clenched the small golden peanut tightly, his gut twisting in pain.

But Le Wuya, that uncultured boar, glanced idly at the stage, then turned his head and nudged the captivated Xiaoqi with his elbow: "Is Xiaoliu's illness serious or not?"

Xiang Zhi, burning with rage, picked up the small peanut and hurled it, striking Le Wuya squarely on the forehead.

Whether it was this teacher or that one, they were all equally annoying!