The thirty-fourth year of Jinghe.
This year, many major events occurred.
First, Cabinet Minister Fang Yingqiu unfortunately passed away during an experiment, plunging the entire nation into profound grief.
This grief reached its peak when Fang Yingqiu's student made her experimental manuscripts public.
In the manuscripts, there was a deafening statement that struck a chord in everyone's hearts.
Fang Yingqiu wrote:
“With this body of dust, I pursue the truths of the stars. If I cannot witness them in life, I shall dissolve into them in death.”
No one could read these words and feel her absolute devotion to chemistry within the lines and remain unmoved.
Even though she knew chemical experiments would damage her body and shorten her lifespan, Fang Yingqiu had still thrown herself into the laboratory without a second thought.
Even when she fell ill due to her experiments and suffered immensely, her only thoughts had still been of her unfinished research.
How could anyone not admire such dedication?
Following that, countless people pursued Fang Yingqiu's path, dedicating their lives to the nation to complete the experiments she had left unfinished.
The commoners also spontaneously erected monuments and wrote books for Fang Yingqiu, remembering the massive, quiet contributions she had made to Great Xia throughout her life.
Not long after, Great Xia's Medical Sage, Lin Xun, also tested medicines on himself in order to fully comprehend the celestial book of medicine gifted by the Divine Lady. This triggered his old ailments caused by years of drug-testing, and he went to his eternal rest in the apricot grove.
The practical medical texts he left behind became an undisputed treasure of Great Xia, widely distributed among physicians throughout the realm.
Sometime later, people realized that the Kunpeng had disappeared.
Everyone knew the Kunpeng was the Divine Lady's spirit beast, so they all adored it. The fishermen living along the coast, in particular, loved it to their very bones.
Whenever the fishermen sailed out to sea, they would always spot the Kunpeng. Sometimes, when storm waves rose on the sea, it would even emerge to rescue them.
But recently, the fishermen going out to sea had not seen the Kunpeng even once. The mortal food they brought to the island where it nested no longer vanished as it used to.
Even after seven days, the food remained completely untouched.
“Has Lord Spirit Fish left the South Sea?” a fisherman muttered sadly as he packed away the food on the ground.
Another person nearby replied, “No. Lord Spirit Fish has been waiting for the Divine Lady in the South Sea all these years. How could it possibly go anywhere else? Perhaps it's just sleeping on the ocean floor?”
Another month passed.
The Kunpeng was still nowhere to be found.
Some said the Kunpeng had migrated to other waters to live, while others said it had departed to follow the Divine Lady...
In any case, no one could say for certain what had happened.
As soon as this news reached Xindu City, it caused a massive stir throughout the city, leaving everyone deeply saddened.
But life had to go on. It would not grind to a halt because of any person or any event.
Last night, heavy snow fell again for the entire night, burying the bluestone steps of Xindu City's school in a blanket of white.
A schoolboy knelt in the snow, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed, his tears falling onto the snowy ground in front of his knees.
He wept bitterly.
He did not even notice the footsteps approaching from behind.
The newcomer bent down and helped him up from the snow.
The schoolboy looked at the newcomer in a daze.
The man had a clean and refined face, with a tranquility in his eyes that did not match his age, and a demeanor as gentle as jade.
The wind and snow whipped his loose white hair.
He unfastened his own fur coat, draping it over the shivering schoolboy's shoulders with utmost gentleness.
“What is the matter?” He squatted down to look the schoolboy in the eye, his voice warm and gentle. “Why are you kneeling here all by yourself and crying? Did the school teachers punish you, or did your classmates bully you?”
“Master Shen, no, the teachers are very good, and my classmates are good too. No one bullied me,” the schoolboy said between sobs, his eyes red and swollen. “It's just that I'm too stupid. I'm letting down the teachers who instruct me, and I'm letting down my parents. To afford to send me to school, they work from morning to night, leaving before dawn and returning late at night. Yet I can't learn anything at school, and I get the worst grade on the exams every single time...” As he spoke, his voice grew softer and softer until he was almost crying again.
Shen Yu did not speak immediately, only raising his hand to gently brush away the snowflakes clinging to the schoolboy's shoulders.
Then, he tilted his head slightly, his gaze falling upon an old plum tree in the courtyard, its branches heavily laden with snow.
“Take a look at that plum tree.”
The schoolboy was slightly startled. Following Shen Yu's gaze, he looked over, not understanding why the master wanted him to look at a tree.
Shen Yu's eyelashes fluttered slightly as he spoke, “Plum trees have always grown very slowly, unlike peach and plum trees that sprout and bloom within a single year. For the first few years, you might not even notice it getting taller.”
He gradually withdrew his gaze and looked toward the schoolboy. “But it will sink its roots very deep, burrowing into the frozen soil. Only when all the other flowers have withered does it brave the snow, bursting with blossoms all over the tree.”
At this point, he reached out again, pulling the fur coat tighter around the schoolboy. “Learning slowly does not mean you cannot learn. Being able to remember your parents' hard work and feeling sad over your own shortcomings is a form of intelligence in itself. Truly foolish people never shed tears over such things.”
The schoolboy stared at Shen Yu, only half-understanding. Although teardrops still clung to his dark eyelashes, he forgot to keep crying.
Shen Yu slowly stood up and extended his hand to the schoolboy. His palm faced upward, catching a few fine flakes of snow that quickly melted away.
“Alright, let us go. Go back and write the characters you learned today three more times. I will write them with you.”
The schoolboy sniffled, placed his hand into that warm palm, and nodded vigorously.
In the quiet study, the schoolboy sat before the desk, writing slowly stroke by stroke, but with utmost earnestness.
Shen Yu sat opposite him, holding a scroll in hand. He would occasionally look up at the schoolboy, never rushing him.
The three iterations of writing were complete.
Outside the window, the snow had stopped, and the sky had darkened.
The schoolboy rubbed his aching wrists, then carefully blew on the Xuan paper to dry the ink. When he looked up, he met Shen Yu's smiling eyes.
“Are you finished?”
“Master Shen, I am finished!” The schoolboy presented the Xuan paper to him, his voice tinged with a hint of pride.
Shen Yu took it and examined it carefully. “Yes, it is neater than yesterday. It is getting late, so go home early. Be careful on your way back. The snow is melting, and the ground is slippery.”
The schoolboy gave an understanding reply and ran out the door.
Upon reaching the academy entrance, he looked back and saw Shen Yu still standing under the veranda, watching him leave the academy.
“Thank you, Master Shen! See you tomorrow!” he shouted, waving at Shen Yu before turning around and running off.
Shen Yu stood under the veranda for a while longer. Only when that tiny figure had completely vanished did he step away from the corridor.
Outside the school.
A carriage had already been waiting in the snow for a long time.
Shen Yu walked over and lifted the carriage curtain.
“Your complexion is so terrible. Have you been coughing again?” Lu Sui pulled him into the carriage, handily passing him a hand-warmer.
“I am fine.”
Shen Yu settled into his seat, gathering the fur coat over his knees.
The carriage slowly rolled over the accumulated snow, heading outside the city.
The interior of the carriage suddenly fell into a quiet silence.
Lu Sui stared at Shen Yu's excessively pale profile. Looking at his head of white hair, his heart felt heavy and stifled.
On the day the Divine Lady fell, Shen Yu had spat blood and collapsed on the spot. Everyone had assumed that he would surely not survive.
And yet, miraculously, Shen Yu pulled through and survived.
At the time, everyone believed it was a blessing from the Divine Lady that allowed Shen Yu to claw his way back from the gates of death.
Only Lu Sui knew that this was no blessing. These years of living had likely been far more agonizing for Shen Yu than death itself.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
Shen Yu said with a smile, “Could it be you are still wondering how a weakling like me has managed to outlive everyone else?”
Lu Sui forced a smile. “Is that not the truth? Your life is as tough as stone. Even Young Physician Lin, who claimed all those years ago that you wouldn't live past five years, was laid to rest by you not long ago.”
“My fault, my fault.” Shen Yu could not help but laugh, but his laughter soon dissolved into a fit of coughing.
Lu Sui quickly rubbed his back to help him catch his breath.
Shen Yu waved his hand. “My usual ailment, it is nothing.”
Then, he lifted the carriage curtain and gazed outside.
The evening snow had just cleared, leaving the distant mountains cloaked in white. The outline of Creek Valley slowly came into focus before his eyes.
“We are finally almost there.”
He said, his voice softening.
The carriage stopped in front of the Divine Lady Temple in Creek Valley. The temple doors were half-closed, and two lanterns hung from the eaves, swaying gently in the wind.
Shen Yu stepped out of the carriage. Lu Sui reached out to support him, but was refused. Shen Yu climbed the steps on his own.
Inside the temple, the statue of the Divine Lady looked down with eyes full of sorrow and compassion for the common people.
On the altar, fresh flowers and fruits were displayed, renewed daily.
Shen Yu stood before the Divine Lady statue for a moment.
Then, he slowly knelt down.
He prostrated, his forehead touching the cold stone floor.
After bowing three times, he did not rise. He simply lay prone before the Divine Lady statue, whispering softly, “Divine Lady, this time, I truly can support myself no longer...”
Lu Sui stood at the temple entrance, waiting for a long time.
Seeing that Shen Yu remained slumped before the statue, he walked inside, squatted down, and softly called out, “Fuyan?”
There was no response.
He reached out, wanting to help Shen Yu up.
Only to find that Shen Yu's hands were already icy cold.
“You certainly left in peace.”
Shen Yu's funeral arrangements were handled by Lu Sui alone. Keeping it a secret from everyone, he buried Shen Yu in Creek Valley.
There was no monument, only a small mound of earth.
This was exactly what Shen Yu had begged of him during his lifetime.
Lu Sui sat beside the small mound of earth, looking up at the sky full of stars. He muttered to himself, “You and Zirang are truly too much, throwing off your responsibilities one after another. Who could possibly be better at slacking off than the two of you?”
“How about this, one of these days I'll dig Zirang up and bury him right next to you so you two can keep each other company?”
As he spoke, a stream of tears quietly slipped down from the corner of his eye.
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