Chapter Thirty-One: Reading Characters

  On this side, the temple is bustling, while on that side, Cheng Jiaoniang and Dan Niang have already left the mountain gate with Chen's children.

  A poem that doesn't make a sentence, the author Chen Dan Niang has long since cast aside her body, and the writer Cheng Jiao Niang has expressed her thoughts freely and no longer remembers, but the two people involved in the commotion behind them have become unknowing.

  At the same time, Qin Lang also returned home with Zhou Si Lang after hunting in the mountains.

  The Qin estate is located in the central district of the capital, although Grandmother's house, Ning Gongzhu, has passed away, the Qin family still retains the imperial bestowed princess mansion, pavilions, towers, gardens and winding paths, exquisitely constructed, one of the top residences in the capital.

  However, there are not many people living in the mansion, only Qin Langjun's family. The Qin family has been living in Chuanzhou for generations, and if it weren't for Qin Langjun's father working in the capital, they wouldn't have moved here either.

  Qin Lang returned home and followed his habit of first coming to pay respects to his parents, but unfortunately, both parents were not at home.

  "The young master has been busy running around all year, can he have eaten yet?" asked the servant woman.

  Qin Lang pointed behind him, and a small servant was holding two wild chickens in his hands.

  "I'll cook it and we can have a stew later." He said with a smile.

  The thirteenth prince is very easy-going despite having a disability.

  "Be careful, Young Master Number Thirteen, don't cut your hand." The servant woman hastily said.

  Qin Langjun smiled and sat in a sedan chair, carried by a young servant, arriving at his own courtyard.

  The woman and the maid in the courtyard had already received orders and arranged the knives, scissors, stove, and pot.

  Qin Langjun simply washed up and then came to the yard, personally slaughtering and cleaning a wild chicken.

  Two women came together and were stopped by a servant at the door.

  "Sixth daughter and seventh daughter, thirteen young masters beat a wild chicken and are preparing to cook it." The servant woman said in a low voice.

  Two women showed a hint of disdain on their faces.

  "What's wrong with Sanlang, why does he always want to cook for himself?" one of them said, "How dirty."

  "Yes, eating, drinking, using, everything has to be done by oneself, and there's no one at home to serve." Another one also said.

  The two of them looked this way and seemed to smell a bloody smell, finally covering their mouths and noses.

  "Never mind, we'll come another day." They said, turning around and walking away surrounded by the maids.

  The women let out a sigh and turned their heads to look back at the courtyard.

  "...boil water...it's better to scald it a bit to remove hair..."

  A clear and gentle male voice came from inside.

  "Yes, how come it's always this weirdo." A low voice sighed.

  "After all..." another one said in a low voice, raising an eyebrow and patting his leg, "people like that are always a bit strange..."

  He first busied himself with washing her hands.

  "What are you talking about? If this gets back to the mistress, you're done for." She hissed in a low voice.

  The woman made a silencing gesture with her hand, shrinking her head, but there were several degrees of smile on her face.

  The lights in the courtyard were lit up, and Qin Langjun put a handful of wild mushrooms into the casserole.

  "All right, I'll be back with a full load in half an hour," he said, dropping his rolled-up sleeves.

  The girls responded in unison and watched as Qin Langjun reached out to take his cane.

  The crutch was pushed aside just now because it was in the way, and Qin Langjun couldn't reach it for a while. The servant girl quickly went over to pick it up and handed it to him.

  Qin Langjun's smiling face seemed to freeze for a moment, but then immediately returned to normal.

  He stretched out his hand and grasped the crutch, with Yatou's support he stood up, and slowly limped towards the room.

  Four maids inside held up clean clothes to change into, while three other maids came forward and helped Qin Langjun take off his layers of clothing one by one, until only his undergarments were left, and then supported him as he went in to wash up.

  After washing and rinsing, two maidservants knelt behind him to wipe his hair. Qin Langjun leaned against the back of a chair with his eyes closed, as if he had fallen asleep.

  "The thirteenth young master, the soup is ready." The voice of a servant woman came from outside the door.

  Qin Langjun suddenly sat up, and the maid behind him didn't let go, grabbing his long hair, scaring her into hastily knocking her head.

  "It doesn't matter, withdraw." Qin Langjun smiled and waved his hand, sitting up straight, "Come quickly, come quickly."

  Steaming hot mushroom stewed chicken is served on several plates, with fragrance overflowing everywhere.

  "Delicious, delicious." Qin Langjun smiled and took a deep sniff before picking up his spoon and chopsticks to slowly start eating.

  The two maids behind her exchanged a glance.

  Is this considered delicious? In an ordinary household where meat is rarely seen, perhaps it's a delicacy, but in the Qin Manor, a bowl of chicken soup is nothing.

  They looked again at the young man in front of them, wearing a white robe with fluttering sleeves, his long hair reaching the ground, one hand wiping his sleeve and the other drinking freely, his face like white jade with a hint of intoxication amidst the rising steam.

  "I did it." Qin Lang murmured, "I did it, I did it, I did it, myself, did it."

  He lowered his head, put a piece of meat into his mouth, and slowly chewed it with big mouthfuls.

  Returning from a pleasant trip, I had a good night's sleep.

  Jiangniang came again to Old Man Chen's place for her regular acupuncture treatment and couldn't help but be asked about her travel experiences.

  "It's okay." Jingniang said calmly.

  "It seems that the temple is indeed a place of spiritual elegance." Old Master Chen said with a smile, looking at Jingniang, "You look much better now, young lady."

  The maid subconsciously looked at Cheng Jiaoniang, still dull and expressionless. In the eyes of others, she seemed to have a few more points of mental illness, but there was no change.

  "The young lady was a bit depressed at first, but now she seems to be better." Old Master Chen said.

  Is she unhappy? The maid couldn't help but look at Cheng Jiaoniang again. Can her expression reveal unhappiness?

  Jiang Yao slightly nodded her head, without saying a word, neither refuting nor denying, and picked up the golden needle.

  Mrs. Zhou walked into the room, looking a bit tired, and sat down.

  "Mother." Saturday's incoming asked, "Is she making excuses again?"

  Mrs. Zhou took the tea handed over by the maid.

  "Whether or not she sees it, whatever," she said. "Anyway, I've done my part with a clear conscience, whether or not she accepts it is her business."

  Zhou Lang had a sullen face.

  "It's all because of me that Mother has been troubled." He said with a bow.

  Mrs. Zhou hurriedly helped him up.

  "What's it to you, anyway? She's just a servant girl, and besides, she's the one who doesn't know her place. It's not our fault that she can't tell good people from bad, but instead blames us for being impolite."

  Out of his parents' yard, he went to the martial arts arena and practiced with a staff. The sweaty young man returned to the yard, also at lunchtime.

  Just as I was about to pick up my rice bowl, Qin Langjun rushed in from outside, supporting a young servant.

  Because his legs and feet were diseased, he always walked slowly and rarely lost his composure in such a hurry.

  Zhōu Líu láng zuò zhí shēn zǐ.

  Translation: Zhou Liu Lang sat up straight.

  "On Saturday, it was all your fault that I missed out on a good thing." Qin Langjun said.

  "What's wrong?" Shūroku asked with a sigh of relief.

  "Yesterday, I came up with a good poem at the Temple of Stopping," said Qin Lang.

  Zhou Lang pouted and said, "These idle people just spend their days writing poetry and doing nothing."

  "What's good poetry?" he asked absent-mindedly.

  "The mountain temple awaits the plum blossoms." said Qin Langjun.

  Zhou Lang picked up his bowl of soup and waited for a moment, but didn't hear Qin Lang recite again.

  "What's next?" he asked, taking a big gulp.

  "It's gone." Qin Lang said.

  Zhou Lang spat out a mouthful of water, splashing Qin Langjun's entire body.

  He didn't mind at all and still had a smile on his face, as if he was savoring the aftertaste of a good poem.

  "Is this good poetry?" Zhou Lang shouted, pushing away the servant who had hastily come to wipe it clean, and himself taking a handkerchief to roughly wipe it off. "Are you intentionally trying to mock me? Although I am a martial man, my Zhou family is not one that cannot afford to hire a teacher! Come, listen to a good poem I've also composed."

  He said, putting his handkerchief aside and staring.

  "A bowl of tea is good." He said word by word, "Mountain temple waiting for plum blossoms to open, a bowl of tea is good, look, I've closed it again."

  Qin Langjun burst out laughing.

  "Good fellow," he said with a smile, carefully taking a piece of paper from the hand of the young servant beside him and unfolding it.

  "Waiting for plum blossoms at a mountain temple." Zhou Sixiang recited, "Indeed, it's a good poem."

  On the one hand, he shouted for pen and ink to come, he wanted to add what he had just done, gilding the lily.

  Qin Langjun smiled and snorted.

  "Look at the words." He said, pushing over a few cases.