TTLJDFL Chapter 56

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Li Jin’s words were not spoken on a whim, nor were they meant to tease Qin Muwen.

He truly wanted to improve the young man's diet while making money.

Even when Li Zhuzi brought red beans, Li Jin’s first thought was to make red bean paste for Qin Muwen, rather than simply boiling them into a soup.

Qin Muwen had a preference for sweet flavors—something Li Jin had known since he first arrived in this world.

Red beans, only after being thoroughly cooked and mixed with maltose, needed to be carefully and continuously stirred for half an hour to fully integrate the sweetness.

There was still some maltose left at home, just enough to make red bean paste.

As for making tanghulu (candied hawthorn) and large hawthorn balls, using maltose to make the syrup would be too wasteful.

After all, a small bag cost twenty pennies, and Li Jin was still poor—he couldn't afford to be extravagant.

He planned to go to town to buy sugar cubes, dissolve them in water, boil them multiple times to remove impurities, and then cook them into a golden syrup.

Some of the syrup would be used to coat the hawthorns, while the rest would be used for making large hawthorn balls.

When Qin Muwen was young, he had tasted rock sugar-coated tanghulu once—a skewer of eight pieces—brought back by a maid when his father sent her out to buy goods.

Now, he could barely remember the taste of tanghulu.

Hearing Li Jin’s words, he suddenly recalled that such a treat existed.

After feeding the little bun rice porridge, Qin Muwen took the child from Li Jin’s arms, wrapping him snugly in swaddling clothes to shield him from the mountain wind.

He was sitting right next to Li Jin, but since there were people around, he felt too embarrassed to lean on Li Jin’s shoulder.

Qin Muwen said, “Ah Jin, I have so much I want to say to you.”

Li Jin's gaze fell on the cinnabar mole at the corner of Qin Muwen’s brow, and he nodded at him.

Although the young man had never deliberately concealed his origins, he had never explicitly stated where his family was from.

Based on what the villagers had said and his own fragmented memories, Li Jin pieced together a rough story.

However, he never directly confirmed it with the young man. After all, no matter how wealthy one used to be, it was all in the past.

Comparing their current poverty to the past prosperity would only be like rubbing salt in a wound.

So, he had been waiting for the young man to tell him voluntarily.

Because when the young man truly spoke of it, it would mean he had let go of the past—it would mean he believed the present was better than before.

Li Jin thought about how, in the village and even in town, few men were literate, let alone women and ger. Yet, Qin Muwen could read and write, and he was also more reserved in observing the separation between men and women.

All of this proved that the young man had been well-educated.

“Ah Jin, my family used to live in the capital. It was very large, with many clansmen. My father was the eldest in the family, followed by my second and third uncles.

My father was an official, very strict. He married a well-matched wife and had several concubines. My A-da was one of them.”

The young man spoke in a soft voice, and with the noisy surroundings, Li Jin had to lean in to catch each word carefully.

“My second and third uncles lived with us, and the children in the family were all named according to their generational characters. For daughters and ger, the character was ‘Mu.’

But I never really experienced the life of a noble household. Because there were many children in the family and my father was busy with official duties every day, I was never much valued.

Luckily, my a-da was there. He taught me to play the zither, to read, and he bought me all kinds of little trinkets.”

Li Jin watched his expression carefully, worried that he would start crying while recounting his story.

But to his surprise, the young man remained strong. Holding the baby bun in his arms, his eyes were filled with determination.

“Later, when I was thirteen, my a-da fell seriously ill and passed away. A year after that, my father made a mistake and was dismissed from office, implicated in a crime that led to the execution of the entire clan.

All the male members of the family were sent far away as laborers, and the daughters were forced into brothels.

I was the only ger. In the end, they decided to sell me.”

There was no need for Qin Muwen to explain what happened after that—Li Jin already knew everything.

Looking at Qin Muwen’s still slightly gaunt face, he had the urge to kiss him as comfort.

But they were outside, and it was broad daylight. With so many people around, he had to think twice even about embracing him.

Qin Muwen lifted his gaze to meet Li Jin’s eyes and said seriously, “I really like my life now, Ah Jin.”

Li Jin didn’t respond immediately. He was never one to make promises in advance—because even if he said things like “I’ll buy you a big house in the future” or “I’ll make sure you never suffer again,” right now, Qin Muwen was still taking care of household chores every day, looking after him and the baby bun.

Saying such empty promises now would feel too ironic.

Instead, Li Jin simply said, “Wenwen, I’ve made you work too hard.”

The moment he heard those words, the strong Qin Muwen could no longer hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

He tried to suppress his sobs, afraid that others would notice him crying, but Li Jin suddenly pulled him and the baby bun into his embrace and whispered, “Don’t be afraid. Cry if you need to. No one will notice.”

Li Jin was right. The Double Ninth Festival was a time for families to climb high places and pray for blessings together.

But separation from loved ones was inevitable, and on this day, those who missed their family would always shed a few tears.

All around them, faint sounds of sobbing could be heard. Qin Muwen finally buried his face in Li Jin’s shoulder, letting his tears soak through the fabric.

The baby bun, sensing his a-da's sorrow, was also affected. But unlike his a-da, who shed silent tears, the baby bun’s way of crying was all about making noise. Whether or not he actually produced tears was another matter entirely.

Li Jin quickly scooped him up in his arms.

Strangely enough, Li Jin wasn’t someone who made funny faces or exaggerated expressions. At most, his face could be considered ‘gentle’ when holding the baby bun. But for some reason, the baby wasn’t afraid of him at all—in fact, he seemed to like him quite a bit.

Qin Muwen’s sadness was interrupted by the baby bun’s antics, and it gradually faded.

Li Jin then asked, “Did you have any particularly close friends before?”

Qin Muwen thought about it carefully, then nodded—but he quickly shook his head.

“Not exactly close. At most, just acquaintances. But since my family fell apart, I haven’t been in contact with any of them.”

Li Jin nodded, then turned to the baby bun and said, “Your a-da is feeling sad. Bun, give him a big smile.”

The baby bun didn’t understand the meaning of the words, but he knew his father was speaking to him. So, he beamed brightly.

That’s how children were—they loved attention. As long as they felt noticed, they wouldn’t fuss too much.

After that, Qin Muwen took out some food and shared it with Li Jin. While the midday sun was still warm, he carried the baby bun down the mountain and headed home.

The baby was only three months old and couldn’t be exposed to the wind for too long.

On the way back, the baby bun fell asleep in Li Jin’s arms.

Qin Muwen’s bundle was now empty, and as he watched his husband treat the baby with such tenderness, his heart gradually felt full.

He remembered when he was a child, clinging to his a-da’s robes, asking, “Why doesn’t father come to see Wenwen? Wenwen has memorized so many poems.”

His a-da would always scoop him up and say, “Once you finish memorizing this book, your father will come and see you.”

But even after he could recite Three Character Classic backwards, his father had never once praised him.

Later, he learned that because he was a ger, his father had never cared for him. And being born of a concubine, he held no value in political marriages either…

So, in his old home, he had almost no presence at all.

Qin Muwen once thought that all men disliked having children who were ger.

But Li Jin was different. Ever since the baby bun was born, he had washed more diapers than he could count.

Qin Muwen had been utterly shocked.

Not to mention, Li Jin always made sure to get fresh goat’s milk for the baby, woke up in the middle of the night to feed him, and coaxed him to sleep.

Li Jin naturally noticed the young man's gaze on him, but since the young man had already laid bare all his inner thoughts today, he wouldn't further provoke his emotions.

After returning home, Li Jin washed all the hawthorns clean and set them on the cutting board to dry.

Feeling inspired, he went to his study and composed a seven-character regulated verse, revising it several times before he was satisfied.

He was well aware of his own literary abilities—poetry and verse were skills that, without natural talent, could only be honed through practice.

As someone with experience, Li Jin had already guessed that Mr. Song would likely have him and Chen Xiran compose poems on the spot the next day. This probably wouldn’t count as… cheating.

According to Mr. Song, the next step was for them to go through every sentence of The Four Books and The Five Classics, as he wouldn't have time to explain them in full.

Mr. Song said, "Although the eight-legged essay has a rigid structure, its content requires you to have a thorough understanding of the texts you've studied. Only then can you properly develop your arguments, transitions, and conclusions, using factual evidence to support your viewpoints.

From now on, I'll be focusing on teaching you the format of eight-legged essays rather than their content."

Li Jin understood—this was just like essay writing in his previous life’s college entrance exams. At most, teachers would emphasize the importance of a strong opening and conclusion, but the actual content depended entirely on the student's knowledge base.

However, the eight-legged essay was even stricter. Every line had to be properly paired in couplets, follow tonal rules, and cite classical texts, all while presenting unique insights.

It was no wonder so few people passed the xiucai examination each year.

Sure enough, the next morning, Mr. Song simply left them with the task: "Write three poems on the theme of the Double Ninth Festival," before heading next door to give a lecture.

An hour later, when he returned, Li Jin had already finished his three poems and was copying down notes.

But this time, as he wrote, he also added annotations to the key points.

When Mr. Song glanced over, he was so surprised that he forgot to stroke his beard. He hadn't expected Li Jin to be so meticulous in his efforts.

Mr. Song thought to himself, If only I had put in this much effort back in the day, perhaps I might have been able to take the juren examination as well.

Then, he picked up the three poems Li Jin had set aside.

Li Jin had written two seven-character regulated verses and one five-character quatrain. The quatrain clearly followed the structured approach he had previously mentioned, but its emotional expression was deeply melancholic.

Mr. Song thought of Li Jin’s family situation—both parents had passed away. If not for the birth of a new child this year, the household would have been even more desolate.

He assumed that Li Jin must have recalled past Double Ninth Festival memories, when his parents had taken him up the mountain to place dogwood sprigs.

Now, with no parents to do this for him, the familiar scene must have stirred sorrow in his heart.

Had Li Jin known Mr. Song’s thoughts, he probably would have shaken his head helplessly.

That particular poem had actually been written from Qin Muwen’s perspective. Li Jin himself had always been emotionally reserved—whether expressing grand ambitions (which he didn’t have) or longing for distant family, he felt he couldn’t quite capture those emotions.

The poems that had endured through the ages were either rich in dazzling literary flourishes or imbued with sentiments of separation, exile, or national tragedy.

Li Jin couldn’t achieve the first, and as for the second… he simply didn’t share those feelings.

So this time, he had tried a different perspective—and unexpectedly, it had resonated with Mr. Song.

The two regulated verses also marked a departure from his previous style. One was the poem he had written the day before, revised multiple times until it became eloquent and elegant.

The other adopted a more understated pastoral tone—simple yet evocative, painting a scene of sunrise toil and sunset rest, gently stirring a longing for rural life.

Mr. Song fell silent, overwhelmed by astonishment.

He simply couldn't believe that just recently, Li Jin had been using formulaic methods to write poetry. Not long before that, he had even struggled to come up with a matching couplet.

Mr. Song found Li Jin’s rapid progress downright startling.

Since he still had the chance to teach him, he decided to offer his feedback right away.

"Your quatrain is excellent—well-structured and genuinely heartfelt.

This regulated verse shows your attempt at a stylistic change, but your exposure to literature is still too limited. Some lines may appear ornate, but they don’t hold up under scrutiny."

With that, Mr. Song circled several points with red ink. "Here, I assume you were trying to use a classical allusion, but it doesn’t quite fit the Double Ninth theme—it needs revision."

He continued pointing out several more areas for improvement before pausing to carefully hold up Li Jin’s final pastoral poem with both hands.

"This poem—you've written it exceedingly well!"

T/N: Thank you for the support, it's a big help really🌸🌸🌸