The Lucky Farmgirl
Chapter 1033 - 112: Genuine Sentiments, False Intentions (August Monthly Ticket Bonus #5)

Chapter 1033: Chapter 112: Genuine Sentiments, False Intentions (August Monthly Ticket Bonus #5)

Chen Fulin smiled and asked, "So, have you forgiven me? Give me your address, and tomorrow I will bring mooncakes and fine wine to visit you."

Mr. Zhuang shook his head, "I trust you, but let’s not talk about old times. It’s best if we don’t see each other again in the future."

Chen Fulin: "Why is that?"

Mr. Zhuang sighed, "I’ve always feared meeting old friends. Don’t you ever fear it, Lord Chen?"

Chen Fulin was caught by Mr. Zhuang’s gaze and choked up, unable to speak for a long time.

Walking a long way off, Mr. Chen, Mr. Jiang, and others regrouped. Shaking his head with a smile, Mr. Chen said, "Lord Chen is known for being amiable, and Mr. Zhuang seems to be broad-minded as well. Why do they seem to not get along?"

Mr. Jiang laughed, "Perhaps it’s a matter of temperament. It’s like choosing a brush for writing; some may look good, but they just don’t fit your hand, and so you can’t work with them."

Mr. Chen: "...So which brush suits you better, Mr. Zhuang’s or Lord Chen’s?"

Mr. Jiang burst into a hearty laugh and said, "What a way to put it—careful, or Zhuangzi might come after you."

Fine, Mr. Chen didn’t need his answer to understand.

Meanwhile, still standing on the high ground, Manbao and two others stared at Mr. Zhuang and Chen Fulin, who were deep in conversation in the distance. "What exactly is the grievance between our teacher and him?" they wondered aloud.

Bai Shan, with sharp eyesight, noted their expressions and said, "It doesn’t look like they’re fighting, but our teacher is very polite, which doesn’t seem like he’s very close to the other party."

Bai Erlang: "Our teacher isn’t petty. It couldn’t possibly be a problem left over from a schoolyard fight. It must be a grudge."

Bai Shan was getting a headache, "What kind of grudge would it be?"

While they guessed, they saw Mr. Zhuang stand up and walk away, so the three of them immediately turned and dashed down, "Teacher, are we going home now?"

Mr. Zhuang smiled, "What’s the hurry? I brought you here for the poetry gathering. The results of the competition are not even out yet. How could we leave first? By the way, what poems have you all written today?"

Bai Erlang was the first to raise his hand, "Teacher, I didn’t write any poems."

Mr. Zhuang understood him, nodded, and said, "If you didn’t write, then you didn’t. However, when we return, you are not allowed to laze in bed anymore. Every morning after you rise, you must first go to the garden and read poetry for two quarters of an hour, and then you may have breakfast before going to school."

Bai Erlang: ...

Mr. Zhuang turned his head to the other two, "How about you two?"

The mentor and his three disciples were talking as they returned to the central courtyard, where everyone had finished writing their poems, and the judges were close to announcing the results. One by one, the poems were being unfolded for everyone to appreciate.

Zhang Hui brought out the top three poems they had chosen and smiled, "Today’s poetry gathering has been quite fruitful. I have three excellent poems to share with all of you, especially Bai Shan’s..."

Mr. Zhuang had not even had the chance to hear Bai Shan’s poem yet. Hearing Zhang Hui’s words, he turned to look at Bai Shan, and without needing him to repeat it, he went straight up to read the poem.

"...Under the moon, the fragrance of osmanthus speaks of my father. Our ancestral wish for new bamboo surrounds the phoenix pond..." Mr. Zhuang nodded in approval and said to Bai Shan, "You’ve finally touched the edge of poetry making. Hahaha..."

Mr. Jiang was standing not far away. Hearing his resounding laughter, he came over and joked, "Not bad, this disciple of yours. So he’s come first today?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the judges were already looking for Bai Shan.

Manbao and Bai Erlang immediately pushed Bai Shan up between them, beaming with joy.

What followed was the usual routine of a poetry gathering, with the senior poets giving encouragement to the juniors and then presenting the prizes they had won in front of everyone.

As the winner, Bai Shan received the designated prize from Mohui Garden. With that, Zhang Hui clapped his hands, and someone brought up a pot of flowers. Bai Shan took a closer look and saw it was the ink chrysanthemum they had admired earlier that morning.

Zhang Hui, with a beaming smile, said, "Chrysanthemums pride themselves against the wind, and this ink chrysanthemum is even more rare. Its ink-like color is noble. Young Master Bai, I hope you can be like this pot of ink chrysanthemums, fearless of the autumn chill and bloom freely in the realm of literature."

Bai Shan: "...Yes, I shall certainly not disappoint your expectations."

He looked at the ink chrysanthemum placed in the center of the table for all to admire, then turned his head to catch a glimpse of the envious glances from the crowd, and finally could only silently retract his gaze back to Manbao.

Manbao had her mouth wide open, exchanging wide-eyed stares with him, both feeling they had somehow drawn the short straw.

Bai Erlang also had his mouth wide open, but then he lowered his head and couldn’t help but laugh.

Manbao couldn’t resist pinching him, whispering, "What are you laughing at, fool? You’ve lost out just as much, you know?"

Bai Erlang murmured, "If there’s any benefit, it’s for you first. I don’t care for it at all."

Mr. Zhuang also stared at the ink chrysanthemum for a long while, speechless, while Mr. Jiang next to him looked on with envy, "That chrysanthemum looks like it’s about to bloom. Zhuangzi, I must visit your place later to appreciate the flowers."

Mr. Zhuang glanced at him and asked, "Do you like it?"

Mr. Jiang nodded, "I do like it."

"Then it’s yours."

Mr. Jiang: "..."

He looked at Mr. Zhuang with doubt, "Are you joking, or...?"

Mr. Zhuang: "I’m serious."

"Aren’t you going to ask your disciple?"

"He’ll be willing." With that, he summoned Bai Shan, who had just stepped down from the stage, saying, "Mr. Jiang likes the ink chrysanthemum."

Bai Shan immediately responded, "Then, let’s give it to Mr. Jiang, shall we? Shall I have the servants move it out to Mr. Jiang’s carriage later?"

Mr. Jiang, seeing no reluctance in his reaction, finally believed that he truly did not seem to care much for the ink chrysanthemum; but why?

His gaze shifted back and forth between the master and his disciples, asking, "Is it that you don’t like black?"

No, it wasn’t that they didn’t like black chrysanthemums from Manbao; they did enjoy flowers and plants, as long as they weren’t the ones Manbao had bought from outside.

So, everyone turned to look at Manbao.

Manbao cleared her throat and nodded, "That’s right, we all like bright colors, like reds and yellows, the brighter the better."

Mr. Jiang: ...He had not expected Mr. Zhuang, who seemed somewhat cultured, to favor such vulgar colors.

Since that was the case, Mr. Jiang was very happy to accept this gift.

He turned his head and saw Chen Fulin conversing with others, though his gaze kept falling here, and decided to be entirely generous, inviting Zhuangzi and his disciples along, "The top prize has also been decided, and your disciple, without a doubt, has made a name for himself today in this area. Just spread this poem outward, and fame is just a moment away. So, there is no need to linger here any longer. Shall we all go out for lunch?"

Mr. Zhuang took the opportunity to invite, "Why not come to my place? Not only do we have a cook to prepare meals, but I also have some osmanthus wine that I brought from my hometown. Today is the Mid-Autumn Festival, just right for a drink."

Mr. Jiang couldn’t help but laugh, "I thought you had stopped drinking?"

"Hmm, it seems I will have to break that vow today."

The two men looked at each other and burst out laughing heartily.

Manbao, Bai Shan, and Bai Erlang, who were not too fond of drinking, looked at the two men with puzzled faces, not understanding what was so funny.