414: Chapter 414 Are You Going to Tell Me the Answer? — Bonus Chapter for <Xi Mu Qian tide Who Likes Round Australian Turtles>

The next morning, inside the Second Ring Road of the capital.

Lin Que stepped out of a taxi carrying two simply packaged gifts and stood at the entrance of a deep alley paved with gray bricks.

The alley was narrow, with half-withered Boston ivy climbing the gray-tiled walls on both sides.

October in the capital was starting to feel chilly, and the edges of the leaves were curled by the autumn wind.

From deep within the alley, the occasional sound of bicycle chains clicking could be heard;

otherwise, it was so quiet it felt as if the entire alley was taking a midday nap.

Xu Changge was already waiting at the entrance of the alley.

Today, he had changed into a navy blue thin sweater, the white collar of his shirt peeking out.

Standing in the morning light, he possessed a sense of 'at-home' relaxation that was more pronounced than usual in the dormitory.

"You're quite early."

Xu Changge walked up to meet him, his gaze sweeping over the two gifts in Lin Que's hands.

He didn't say anything, but the curve of his lips was softer than usual.

"I was afraid of traffic."

Lin Que switched the bags to his other hand and followed Xu Changge deeper into the alley.

The path wasn't long; after turning two corners, a wooden door with mottled vermilion paint appeared before them.

There was no plaque over the lintel, only a pair of brass door knockers polished bright by touch, their oily luster holding the warmth of countless years of hands.

Xu Changge pushed open the door and stepped aside to let Lin Que enter first.

The courtyard wasn't large.

There were no rockeries, no koi ponds, and none of the ostentatious clutter typical of the nouveau riche.

Behind the screen wall was an old scholar tree so thick it would take three people to encircle it. Its trunk was as stout as a city wall pillar, and its leaves were turning yellow, rustling in the early autumn wind.

Beneath the tree sat a pair of bluestone drums, their surfaces worn to a faint patina.

Xu Changge walked ahead, his pace slower than it was on campus. He pointed to a section of low wall next to the stone drums.

"When I was a child, I used to recite the collection of ancient prose here. If I couldn't recite it, I'd be punished by having to stand on the stone drums. In winter, my toes would go numb from the cold."

He then raised a finger toward the lowest horizontal branch of the old scholar tree.

"When I was six, I climbed up there to raid a bird's nest and fell, knocking out half an incisor.

I didn't get scolded, though; instead, I was punished by having to copy 'Preface to the Prince of Teng's Pavilion' twenty times."

At this point, Xu Changge let out a laugh.

It was a short laugh, carrying a trace of nostalgia he hadn't even realized himself.

Lin Que listened without interjecting, nor did he show the typical curious staring expected of someone visiting a home for the first time.

He withdrew his gaze from the scholar tree and let it fall on the neatly laid square bricks beneath his feet, where a thin layer of moss grew in the cracks.

Xu Changge noticed his gaze.

"What is it?"

"The moss in your brick cracks is well-tended."

Lin Que made a seemingly nonsensical remark.

Xu Changge paused for a beat, looked down at the layer of moss, and suddenly seemed to understand something, yet couldn't quite put it into words.

He didn't press further.

Passing through a winding corridor, the two arrived at the inner courtyard.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the carved window lattices.

Xu Zhengqing was standing before a writing desk by the window.

He wore a plain buttoned cloth shirt, almost identical to the one he wore in class yesterday, only the ink stains on the cuffs were in different places.

His wrist was suspended as his right hand held the brush, the tip moving across the spread-out Xuan paper.

Lin Que stopped at the end of the corridor and didn't move forward.

Xu Changge stopped as well.

The two of them just stood there, watching the old man write.

The brushwork was steady, the force entering the paper never wavering from the first stroke to the last.

Every finishing stroke was crisp and clean, without any dragging, yet without being deliberately ostentatious.

That vigor wasn't something practiced; it was something that grew out of the bones.

Lin Que's gaze lingered on the Xuan paper for a few seconds before moving to the old man's fingers holding the brush.

The knuckles were large, and there was a callus at the base of the thumb, worn down by decades of holding a brush.

Xu Zhengqing set down the final stroke and placed the brush on the edge of the inkstone. He turned his head toward the corridor and smiled.

"You've arrived."

Lin Que stepped forward and gave a slight bow.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Elder Xu."

Xu Zhengqing waved his hand.

He glanced at Lin Que, then at the gifts in Lin Que's hands, his gaze open and honest.

"No need for formalities. I specifically asked Jingwen to invite you today."

Hearing this, Lin Que's gaze naturally shifted half an inch toward Xu Changge beside him.

Xu Changge didn't avoid his gaze.

He nodded slightly, his back even straighter than it was at school, his expression solemn.

"Grandfather greatly admired your insights during yesterday's class.

Furthermore, since we share a dormitory, I also wanted to take this opportunity to officially thank you for the inspiration you've given me regarding my writing these past few days."

Lin Que gave a composed smile.

"My level is limited; we're just learning from each other. I just hope Student Lin hasn't led your thinking astray."

Hearing this, Xu Zhengqing nodded appreciatively and gestured for the two to enter and take a seat.

The morning passed at a leisurely pace.

Xu Zhengqing led Lin Que around the courtyard, walking slowly and speaking little.

He stopped by the water vat in the corner of the courtyard and tapped the rim twice with his knuckles.

"This vat is from the Republican era; the walls are thick, so it doesn't crack easily in winter.

But it's heavy; it smashed a square brick when it was being moved in."

The old man paused and looked up at Lin Que.

Lin Que looked down at the base of the vat; there was a thin, long old crack on the side,

patched with lime, the mark already blended with the color of the gray tiles.

"It was mended a long time ago."

Xu Zhengqing's gaze lingered on his face for a beat.

"That was thirty years ago."

He said no more and turned back toward the corridor.

Lin Que followed, hands in his pockets, maintaining a distance of half a step from the old man.

There was movement from the courtyard gate.

Xu Changge's father and mother entered one after the other.

Xu's father had an upright posture and wore a well-tailored dark jacket.

His shoulders were perfectly level as he walked, and each stride was almost identical in length.

That innate sense of discipline required no words to establish.

Xu's mother followed behind, a thin gray cashmere coat paired with a silk scarf, looking capable yet poised.

The first thing she did upon entering was change into soft-soled slippers; the second was to look at Lin Que standing next to Xu Zhengqing.

"Is this Changge's classmate?"

Xu's mother's voice carried the characteristic warmth of an elder, and she had already reached out her hand as she walked over.

"Come, come, don't be formal. I've heard Changge mention you for a long time now."

The family's old nanny, Aunt Lu, brought out a table of dishes.

Braised lion's head meatballs, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, a bowl of slow-cooked chicken soup, plus several exquisite cold appetizers. It wasn't flashy, but every dish showed great skill.

The five of them sat around the table.

As Xu's mother placed a meatball into Lin Que's bowl, she sighed with a smile.

"Changge, this child, took a leave of absence from school early and usually doesn't even have any friends his age.

This is the first time in his life he's brought a classmate home for dinner."

Xu Changge's chopsticks froze in mid-air, a faint flush creeping up to the tips of his ears.

He lowered his head and took a mouthful of rice, not responding to the comment.

Unaware of her son's embarrassment, Xu's mother continued.

"When I called him a couple of days ago to ask if he was getting used to the training camp, he actually praised his excellent roommate for once."

Xu Changge's chopsticks tapped lightly against the rim of his bowl.

"Mom, let's just eat."

A flash of amusement crossed Lin Que's eyes as he took the opportunity to speak.

"Student Xu does indeed take good care of me in the dorm.

Last time, someone knocked on the door in the middle of the night to ask about my manuscript. He just posted a note on the door saying 'Do not disturb after midnight unless it's an emergency.' He's more responsible than the dorm manager."

Xu's mother was amused and tapped her chopsticks on the table twice.

"That does sound like him. When he was little and doing homework, he'd lock his door and wouldn't open it for anyone."

Xu Changge looked up at Lin Que.

There was a hint of helplessness in that look, but beneath it was the kind of understanding found only between peers.

Lin Que returned a very faint smile and lowered his head to drink his soup.

Xu's father set down his chopsticks and picked up his teacup, his gaze passing over the rim to rest on Lin Que.

The gaze wasn't aggressive, but it carried the steady pressure common to those in high positions,

as if he were quietly measuring a person's worth.

"Xiao Lin, this Qinglan Project is the highest-specification one to date."

He took a sip of tea and placed the cup back on the table.

"Your Dean Dai and I were university classmates. In our phone calls these past few days, he hasn't stopped praising you talented youngsters in front of me."

The words were said casually, but they carried significant weight.

What kind of networking level did the words "university classmates" imply?

This casual drop of information was itself a subtle evaluation.

Lin Que set down his soup bowl and sat upright, but not stiffly.

"Dean Dai and the seniors indeed have high expectations for us.

I've learned more in the training camp these past few days than I did on my own over the past year."

He nodded slightly and looked toward Xu Zhengqing.

"Especially Elder Xu's class yesterday; it made me re-examine many things I thought I already understood."

When he said "re-examine," his speaking pace slowed by half a beat.

It wasn't a deliberate emphasis, but rather giving the word a bit of breathing room.

Xu's father's gaze lingered on his face for two extra seconds.

He placed his teacup back on the table, his movement half a beat slower than before, as if he were mentally replaying the words just spoken.

"Mm."

Just one word. But the tone was a layer more relaxed than when he first spoke.

Xu Changge kept his head down, picking up some vegetables, his lips pressing together without looking up.

Throughout the entire family banquet, Lin Que noticed one thing.

Xu Zhengqing, the head of the household, had not interjected a single word from beginning to end.

The old man simply wore a smile, watching him handle Xu's father's scrutiny and Xu's mother's warmth, occasionally taking a bite of food or a sip of soup.

Every time Lin Que's gaze met his, Xu Zhengqing would only give a slight nod.

Something was settled in those clouded eyes that Lin Que couldn't see through, nor was he in a hurry to do so.

After the meal, Xu's mother called Aunt Lu to clear the table.

Xu Changge led Lin Que, following behind Xu Zhengqing, through a moon gate and into the study at the deepest part of the inner courtyard.

The study wasn't large.

Upon entering, the first thing Lin Que noticed wasn't the bookshelves, but the row of books on the very bottom shelf.

That row didn't contain rare ancient texts; it was filled with internal publications from various Provincial Writers Associations.

Some had curled edges, others had been flattened and then splayed open again, clearly having been flipped through repeatedly.

Only the layers above were what outsiders would imagine—

ancient texts and thread-bound editions from various eras, their spines yellowed and characters faded.

The wall by the window had no bookshelves; it only held a faded map, a topographical map of Huaxia.

There were several pencil marks on the paper that hadn't been erased cleanly, leaving faint gray impressions.

The air held the dry scent of aged paper and ink, mixed with the aroma of the scholar tree leaves from the courtyard outside.

Xu Zhengqing sat down behind the red sandalwood desk.

The familiar chipped thermos sat on the desk, beside an open thread-bound book.

Lin Que sat in the guest chair, his back straight and hands resting naturally on his knees.

Xu Changge pulled up a chair to sit at the side, his gaze moving between his grandfather and Lin Que.

The study was quiet for a few seconds.

Xu Zhengqing picked up his thermos, took a sip of water, set it down, and looked at Lin Que, suddenly speaking.

"Student Lin, aren't you full of curiosity as to why I insisted Changge invite you as a guest today?"

Lin Que's posture didn't change, and his expression remained steady.

"Perhaps some reckless remark of mine in yesterday's class piqued Elder Xu's interest."

He paused, his gaze falling directly on the face of this pillar of the literary world.

"Or perhaps Elder Xu wants to probe where exactly these 'eyes' of mine were trained?"

The air in the study froze for a moment.

Xu Zhengqing was stunned for a beat.

The next second, the old man burst into a hearty laugh.

The laughter echoed in the study filled with ancient texts, causing a loose page in a book on the shelf to flutter.

Xu Changge looked back and forth between the two in shock. He had never seen his grandfather laugh like this.

The laughter gradually subsided.

Xu Zhengqing leaned forward slightly, resting his folded hands on the desk, pushing the thermos to the side.

He looked at Lin Que, most of the gentleness in his gaze receding to reveal the true substance beneath.

"So, do you plan to tell me the answer today?"

...