Chapter 42: Are You Afraid They'll Discover You Can Only Write Rustic Poems?

Uncle Lin looked utterly astonished. “Me?”

“Yes, yes! Don’t you want to try my cooking? Smell it—isn’t it wonderful?” Li Su’s lively expression made both Uncle Lin and Xi Sheng unable to hold back their laughter.

Uncle Lin couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. Ever since the young master arrived, the whole manor had become so full of life.

He glanced at Xi Sheng, who nodded to him. “If Su wants you to join us, then join us.”

Xi Sheng then turned to Li Su, saying, “I never expected you to have such skills.”

“Of course! There’s so much I can do,” Li Su replied, without a hint of modesty.

Xi Sheng looked at the table. “It does smell delicious, but it’s all raw. How do we eat this? And what are these things...”

He stared at the array of raw vegetables and meats, wondering if they were just going to drink soup. The long strips, the slices—they looked like offal.

“Just put everything in to cook. Meat needs to boil a bit longer, but vegetables are ready almost as soon as they’re in. Dip them in this sauce, have a bite of rice,” Li Su explained and demonstrated, savoring a mouthful with a satisfied sigh—he had missed hotpot.

Uncle Lin and Xi Sheng imitated him. When the food entered their mouths, their eyes lit up—what a flavor!

No one spoke, their hands moving rapidly.

“And try this iced fruit juice—take a sip, wow, yes, that’s it!” Li Su was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Uncle Lin and Xi Sheng quickly followed suit, tasting the colored drink. It was a delicacy beyond words!

Li Su left them with the impression of someone who truly knew how to eat.

The wild vegetables and meats, drenched in broth, mixed with rice, even the offal they’d previously avoided—seeing Li Su eat happily, the two overcame their reluctance and tried it, instantly falling in love.

Li Su secretly chuckled: hotpot punishes every stubborn tongue.

By the end of the meal, despite the heat and their usual lack of appetite, Uncle Lin and Xi Sheng had eaten themselves full.

Outside, the servants could only swallow hungrily at the aroma. “What has the young master cooked? It smells incredible!”

“Right? We’ve already had dinner, but my cravings have been awakened!”

All night, the scent haunted their dreams.

...

On the other side, when Shang Jinchuan received Xi Sheng’s letter, he thought at first his teacher was joking. But his teacher was far too solemn to joke like this—clearly, he wouldn’t.

That meant his teacher must have been tricked by this Li Su!

To dare deceive his teacher—this brat deserved punishment!

Anger flashed across Shang Jinchuan’s face, and Eunuch Wang hastily said, “Saltpeter is available at the Imperial Medical Institute. Why not try it, Your Majesty? If it turns out to be false, it’s not too late to punish him.”

Shang Jinchuan glanced at Eunuch Wang. “You seem quite invested in this boy.”

Eunuch Wang calmly explained, “If it is true, it’s greatly beneficial to Your Majesty. I’m thinking of Your Majesty’s interests, not that boy’s.” In fact, he did care a little; after all, he had once been an ordinary commoner himself.

Shang Jinchuan nodded. “Fetch some saltpeter.”

Eunuch Wang immediately sent someone to the Imperial Medical Institute to get saltpeter and had water brought.

Once everything was ready, Eunuch Wang followed the instructions step by step.

Gradually, his voice grew excited. “Your Majesty, the temperature really is dropping!”

Shang Jinchuan hurried over and saw with his own eyes ice beginning to form.

Shang Jinchuan: “!!” Ice was actually appearing!

Li Su was undoubtedly a genius rarely seen in centuries, always coming up with astonishing ideas.

Shang Jinchuan felt this person matched his ideal of an official perfectly.

He was already looking forward to Li Su entering court. He’d heard his teacher had already taken him as a disciple, so Li Su was now his junior?

A look of interest flashed in Shang Jinchuan’s eyes. Even if the teacher’s disciple was mediocre, passing the provincial exam would be no problem; but judging by Li Su, he was anything but mediocre.

Staring at the ice, Shang Jinchuan was barely able to contain his excitement. With this, the financial issues could be temporarily resolved, and it would allow him to suppress the Xiahou family.

His teacher still cared for him, unwilling to return, perhaps to cultivate a junior to assist him?

Shang Jinchuan’s lips curled slightly. Well then, he would start with the Xiahou family.

...

Li Su went to the private school and heard his classmates discussing a lotus-viewing event. He couldn’t help but marvel at their energy—one moment it was poetry gatherings, the next viewing lotuses.

“I heard Scholar Gu will be there. I must go! If he gives me any guidance, maybe I’ll pass the scholar’s exam smoothly.”

“Scholar Gu? Then I definitely have to go!”

Who was Scholar Gu? Li Su didn’t know.

Lin Ze approached and asked, “Su, Scholar Gu is Lin Xi’s teacher. I have a feeling he’s not here for good—could he be targeting you?”

Li Su thought to himself that he didn’t believe this Scholar Gu could match his own teacher.

“Who cares if he’s friendly or not? I’m not going.” Li Su had no intention of attending. He’d already seen the level of poetry among the scholars of this era; there was no need to join the excitement.

Rather than wasting time on such events, it was better to settle down and read more.

Actually, exchanging ideas could help break through bottlenecks, but only if one had accumulated enough. Li Su considered his own accumulation not yet sufficient for such breakthroughs through exchange.

So he wouldn’t go. As for making more friends, he didn’t think it necessary. Quality mattered more than quantity, and friendships depended on fate and mutual affinity.

Lin Ze, Qin Ming, and Ren Shuhua all chimed in, “We won’t go either.”

Chen Ping had been eavesdropping on Li Su and his friends, thinking that mentioning Scholar Gu would surely make Li Su attend.

If Li Su didn’t go, his and Lin Xi’s plan would fail.

That wouldn’t do—the whole thing was meant to expose Li Su. If Li Su didn’t attend, what was the point?

Chen Ping stepped out and addressed Li Su, “Li Su, you’re not going because you’re afraid everyone will see you only compose agricultural poems, right? Don’t miss the chance to learn from Scholar Gu. Opportunities like this are rare.” Chen Ping spoke as if he was looking out for Li Su.

Li Su raised his eyebrows, now certain that the event was indeed aimed at him. Lin Xi and Chen Ping, collaborating, clearly weren’t very bright.

But why did they think he could only write agricultural poems? Their guesses missed the mark, but they insisted they’d uncovered the truth—fools, both of them.

“Li Su only writes agricultural poems? Chen Ping used to be close to him, so maybe he’s right.”

“Regardless, Li Su’s ‘Pity the Farmer’ was excellent.”

“Li Su, it’s true that chances to interact with a scholar are rare. Even if you only write agricultural poems, you’re still impressive; we admire you and won’t mock you.”

Chen Ping smirked—now, even if Li Su didn’t attend, everyone would think he was afraid, unable to write anything but agricultural poems.

Li Su thought to himself: perhaps he couldn’t compose dazzling original verses, but he had thousands upon thousands of poems memorized in his mind.