Chapter Two: Scholar Hu Zuo is Highly Praised for His Poetry; That Night, He Encounters Two Women and Shares an Intimate Moment

“Next, let’s visit Scholar Li’s family,” Xu Changshui said as if nothing had happened. “Though Li is poor, he’s always been diligent in his studies. Who knows, he might pass the examinations one day. I hear his daughter is also quite talented.”

This time, Xu Wenshan was more cooperative. “That’s someone worth meeting.”

When they arrived at Scholar Li’s home, his daughter did not stand on ceremony; she soon came out to meet Xu Wenshan.

But she came with a fierce momentum.

“I don’t know why I must meet you. You’re just someone with a few acres of land. I’ve heard of you before—nothing but foolishness and mischief. If you think you can use your family’s wealth and power to force me, let me tell you: you’re mistaken. Your money is useless to my family.”

Miss Li was thin, her face sallow and gaunt from malnutrition like the other villagers, and her looks were unremarkable. Yet, as someone who had read books, she was different—aggressive from the start, showing no fear of the Xu family.

Xu Changshui’s expression darkened. Scholar Li wiped the sweat from his brow and hurriedly tried to make peace.

Xu Wenshan smiled wryly. “I hear you can compose poetry?”

Her tone softened a little at the mention of scholarship. “You know poetry as well?”

“Yes,” Xu Wenshan replied, “I can write: ‘The Yellow River rises far away amidst the white clouds, a lonely fortress towers over ten thousand-foot mountains.’”

Her eyes brightened. “What is the Yellow River?”

“It’s a yellow river,” Xu Wenshan answered.

She suddenly retreated to her room, leaving the others puzzled, but soon returned with brush and ink. Carefully, she wrote down the lines Xu Wenshan had just recited.

Her handwriting was elegant and neat. When she finished, she shook the paper and read the lines twice, her eyes growing more admiring with each recitation.

“What’s the next line?” she asked eagerly.

Xu Wenshan thought, If I recite the real next line, she’ll just ask what the Jade Gate Pass is. So he recited, “This longing could become a cherished memory, but at the time it was only bewilderment.”

After hearing this, her gaze grew dreamy. She carefully wrote this line as well, then read aloud, “The Yellow River rises far away amidst the white clouds, a lonely fortress towers over ten thousand-foot mountains. This longing could become a cherished memory, but at the time it was only bewilderment… What a fine poem! But what does it mean as a whole…”

The vastness and desolation of the first couplet—what a majestic brushwork! Who would have thought this seemingly frivolous young master of the Xu family, beneath his unruly facade, would have such grandeur of spirit!

But the next line—so tender, so filled with emotion—the grandeur turns delicate, the heroism becomes sentiment. Such contradictory qualities, yet united harmoniously in one person… How fascinating!

Miss Li thought to herself: appearances are deceiving. This young master is truly a romantic spirit, misunderstood by the world, which is why he’s been maligned as foolish. If I marry him, it won’t be a waste. We’ll surely live in harmony, composing poetry together… He writes so beautifully—how much more talent must he have in daily life?

And so she asked eagerly, “Tell me, what name would you give our child?”

Everyone present: “Huh?!”

Her cheeks flushed bright red. Xu Wenshan scratched his head. “Sorry, I don’t intend to marry you.”

Miss Li’s expression changed instantly. “I am kind, intelligent, educated, and I can cook. I would care for you well—why won’t you marry me?”

“Because,” Xu Wenshan said awkwardly, “I like good looks.”

…

Miss Li retreated to her room and refused to see Xu Wenshan again.

Scholar Li, embarrassed, saw the Xu father and son out, holding the sheet of paper in his hand. “Though we won’t become in-laws, today’s meeting produced a fine poem. It will be a story to tell in the future… Young Master Xu, may I mount this paper?”

Xu Wenshan nodded. Scholar Li beamed. “The Yellow River rises far away amidst the white clouds, a lonely fortress towers over ten thousand-foot mountains. This longing could become a cherished memory, but at the time it was only bewilderment… Young Master Xu’s talent is truly beyond our reach.”

…

In the carriage, neither Xu father nor son spoke.

Xu Changshui finally broke the silence. “When did you learn to write poetry? I never saw you study before.”

Xu Wenshan replied calmly, “Poetry is a matter of talent.”

“I can’t judge if you’re good, but Scholar Li praised you—so you must be. As for marrying into the Li family, let’s forget it. I don’t care for it either. But as I told you today, you must give me a son soon.”

He especially stressed the importance of having a child.

Xu Wenshan fell silent.

In truth, he didn’t particularly dislike Miss Li. But at the last moment, he realized something.

Whether the Xu family would be trampled underfoot—how could that depend on his wife? Whether the Xu family would wither away—that was his decision to make.

He was, after all, a transmigrator.

…

Night fell and the lamps were lit. The old maid cooked, and the young servants shut the doors.

After dinner, Xu Wenshan bade his parents good night and returned to his own room.

No wifi, no phone—nothing to do but sleep.

Xu Wenshan entered his room, took off his clothes, puffed out his cheeks to blow out the candle, lifted the quilt, and climbed into bed—only to touch something soft and warm.

A cold sweat broke out over him, and he jumped out of bed. The thing on the bed shifted with a rustle. By the moonlight streaming in through the window, Xu Wenshan could just make out—it was a person.

A woman.

Thinking of what had happened during the day, and the kidney and chive dishes at dinner, Xu Wenshan suddenly understood.

This was Xu Changshui’s last ultimatum after the failed matchmaking.

“You must give me a son soon.”

Whether he married or not no longer mattered—he must produce a fat, healthy son. Not for the sake of a grandchild, but for the Xu family’s standing.

But Xu Wenshan had his own principles. Calmly, he picked up his discarded clothes and put them back on, piece by piece.

“What are you doing?” the girl on the bed sat up.

The brocade quilt slid away, revealing her body, a faint, alluring fragrance drifting over, stirring a powerful urge within him.

Yet Xu Wenshan remained composed. “I’m going to ask what this is about.”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s this about’?” the girl grew anxious. “Are you not satisfied with me?”

She exposed her body to him, and his breathing grew ragged.

Still, Xu Wenshan replied, “It’s not you I’m dissatisfied with—it’s the situation.”

The moral restraint of twenty-some years from his previous life weighed on him. He didn’t want to touch this girl, even if her presence here was legitimate.

The girl clung to him, hugging him tightly. “Please, don’t send me back.”

If she was returned, she might never marry. To be sent back would mean a lifetime of shame.

Xu Wenshan was torn—if he held to the morals of his previous world, he would ruin her in this one; if he followed the morals of this world, he would still be hurting her according to his old standards.

He wrestled with this contradiction for a long time, unable to resolve it. Sitting on the bed, his mind was a jumble. At last, he glanced at the girl—by the moonlight he saw a tear still glistening on her pale cheek…

And so, he stopped thinking, and let his body decide.