xymnovel Chapter 96 Wang Zhihuan Remains Calm
Chapter 96 Wang Zhihuan Remains Calm
Chapter 96 Wang Zhihuan Remains Calm
Wang Huan remained silent for a long time before slowly sitting back down on the stone bench.
He didn't look at Wang Luo again, but turned to Wang Zhihuan, his tone much softer: "Zhihuan, don't pay attention to your third uncle. He's always been like this, he speaks like he's about to kill someone."
He picked up the teacup, only to find the tea had gone cold, so he put it down again.
After a pause, he adopted a more mature and relaxed tone, like an elder, and asked, "What have you been doing all this time in Lantian? Do you still read? I remember you loved to squat in the study when you were little."
Wang Zhi glanced at him and nodded: "I mostly farm and raise pigs. Uncle, you know I have to support myself. I read books occasionally, but mainly it depends on whether I have time."
"What kind of books do you usually read?"
"Most of them are medical books."
"The medical book is good, which proves that you have not let your master down."
Wang Huan nodded. "Actually, your father also loved reading medical books back then, but unfortunately he didn't learn anything of value."
You are better than him, of course, after all, you have a teacher who taught you, that makes a difference.
It's just a pity your master passed away so young. If he had lived two more years, your achievements today would be completely different.
He then asked, "You live alone now, are you lonely? Do you have any friends you can talk to?"
"It's alright," Wang Zhihuan said, "Friends occasionally come over to visit."
"Are they all from this area?"
"Some of them came from Chang'an as well."
"That's good," Wang Huan didn't press for details about which family in Chang'an the friend was from, but simply nodded. "You young people should interact with other young people and make more friends. Only then can you broaden your horizons and open your mind."
"Back when your father was in Taiyuan, he spent all his time indoors writing, becoming increasingly withdrawn and having few friends. In this respect, you are better than your father, which is a good thing."
When he said this, there was a hint of relief in his tone, and he was genuinely happy for his nephew.
Then he sighed, his tone turning somber: "To be honest, your uncle has always been worried about you."
You traveled alone from Taiyuan to Lantian. You know what people in the clan said when you left. Your uncle couldn't speak up for you, and he's always felt bad about it.
Your uncle hopes you won't blame him; after all, you know there are some things he can't control.
He looked up at the courtyard, then at Wang Zhihuan, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes smoothing out slightly: "Now that I see it with my own eyes, your courtyard is tidy, and you look much plumper and more energetic than when you were in Taiyuan. It means you're doing better here than in Taiyuan, so I'm relieved."
Wang Zhi was still listening. Wang Huan spoke in a very calm tone, without any deliberate attempt to be sentimental. It was estimated that he had been holding these words in for more than half a year and was finally saying them to my face.
Wang Zhihuan could fully sense the relief on his uncle's face.
In fact, he never blamed his uncle, because he knew that in such a large family, his uncle's ability and prestige were insufficient to help him.
"Thank you for your concern, Uncle," he said.
"We're family, no need for thanks." Wang Huan waved his hand, asked a few more questions about the farm, and then got up to take his leave.
Before leaving, Wang Zhi also invited them to stay for a meal, as is customary.
He looked at Wang Huan and said sincerely, "Uncle, Third Uncle, you've come from afar. Please have a meal before you leave. Although the manor doesn't have much to offer, we can still provide a simple meal."
Wang Huan smiled and waved his hand gently, "No, thank you. Seeing that you are all well puts my mind at ease. We won't trouble you any further, we'll head back now."
Wang Luo awkwardly replied, "We still have a long way to go."
His servants placed the wooden box on the stone table, and Wang Huan opened the lid himself.
The box contained several books, an inkstone, several boxes of dried fruit, and a piece of plain-colored fine cloth.
"These are some of the books your father used to love reading," he said, placing the books in Wang Zhihuan's hands. "The inkstone is also an old item he used. Your uncle has been keeping it for you for more than half a year, and now he can finally give it to you in person."
Wang Zhihuan looked down at the Duan inkstone. The inkstone was warm and smooth, with a faint scratch on its edge.
When his father was grinding ink, he probably rubbed his fingertips against this scratch countless times.
He turned the inkstone over, and two small characters were engraved on the bottom: "Shou Zhuo" (守拙).
"Thank you for your trouble, Uncle," he said.
This time, his tone was more sincere than before—Wang Huan could have easily not given him the inkstone. He appreciated the sentiment of bringing it all the way from Taiyuan to Lantian.
"Don't worry about it," Wang Huan patted his shoulder. "Just live your life well, and your uncle will be at ease."
Wang Luo was the last to leave the courtyard.
He paused as he stepped across the threshold and glanced back at Wang Zhihuan.
"Kid," he said, "think carefully about what I just said. I hadn't thought it through at first, but then I realized you're stubborn, so I rushed over."
You should know that it's better to give the prescription to the clan than to let it fall into the hands of others. Don't side with outsiders.
After saying that, he mounted his horse, flicked the reins, and the gray horse reared up and galloped towards the official road.
The yellow dust kicked up by the horses' hooves lingered outside the courtyard gate for quite some time before dissipating.
Wang Huan's mule cart had already gone far away. The blue cloth curtain was drawn down, obscuring his face.
Wang Zhi stood at the gate of the courtyard, watching the dust on the official road gradually settle.
Ah Huang ran over from under the jujube tree, rested her chin on his knee, and pressed her wet nose against the back of his hand.
Grey jumped down from the windowsill, walked to his feet, rubbed against his ankle, and made gurgling noises in his throat.
He bent down and rubbed Ah Huang's head before turning and going back into the yard.
They put the books on the stone table into a wooden box, along with the inkstone, and carried it into the main room, placing it on the top shelf of the cabinet against the wall.
Then he went outside and continued feeding the geese wild grass.
During dinner that evening, Zhou Xia asked him who the two elders who had come to visit were. He replied that they were family members from Taiyuan who were just passing by. Zhou Xia simply said "oh" and didn't ask any further questions.
After finishing their meal, Zhou Xia went to the backyard to change the dressing for Uncle Zhou's son. Wang Zhi sat alone under the jujube tree, slowly sipping a bowl of cool tea.
He went through the events of the day from beginning to end.
He was a time traveler. Although he inherited the original owner's memories and emotions, the one in charge was the soul from the previous life, so there was always a layer between them.
These two people, whether they are the eldest uncle or the third uncle, are ultimately just relatives of the original owner.
He was grateful for his uncle's kindness, but he wouldn't become dependent on him. Of course, having an elder who cared about him was still a good thing in this unfamiliar world.
He loathed his third uncle's wickedness, but he wouldn't show it. After all, harsh words couldn't hurt him in the slightest, and besides, to be a father, one must first be a son.
If I hadn't been so shrewd, I'd probably be over a meter tall on my grave by now, right after I transmigrated.
In this world, he only has himself. Farming, brewing wine, practicing medicine, and making a good life are the most important things for him.
As for how deep the waters are in the Wang family's quagmire in Taiyuan, he'll leave that aside for now and doesn't plan to wade into it.
When you lack ability, you must learn to be subservient.
He put the bowl in the kitchen, washed his hands, and turned to go back into the house. The candlelight flickered, then steadied.
A few croaks of frogs came from the distant field ridges, lasted for a while, and then stopped.