Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 417 - 91 Repaying Human Sentiment (4000-word Chapter) (2/2)_2

Right hand holding a plum branch at an angle.

The cold plum was straight.

Sharp as a sword.

Mr. Lin’s expression was calm, as if he had not seen the old man’s vertically furrowed brows, and he said lightly,

"You’ve come..."

The Master looked up at Mr. Lin under the pavilion, slowly starting to speak. He wasn’t as casual as in the Academy, nor as unconcerned as he was facing Ren Changge. His voice was low and calm, like distant thunder rolling over a snowy plain:

"This matter, you must have known before the time it took to burn a stick of incense."

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"Lin Zizai."

His gaze fell on the already extinguished sandalwood on the stone table.

Looking at the remaining traces.

He had anticipated this point earlier, but for some reason, even knowing about it, he still had to come, had to see this face. This overt self-assumption, forcing one to follow his calculations, this ’obvious strategy,’ made his expression somewhat solemn.

He wished he never had to see this person for the rest of his life.

Mr. Lin’s expression remained unchanged, he fell silent for a moment, and eventually simply said,

"Everything seeks harmony, everything returns to impermanence, you and I can glimpse but a fraction."

"Thinking oneself at ease, yet never achieving ease, just ordinary people after all."

"Let’s drink."

The Master snorted coldly, stepped forward, the plum branch still held at an angle in his hand, walked down to the pavilion, and as he sat down, Mr. Lin had already poured him a cup of wine. Just as the Master sat down, the final drop of the wine fell, neither a minute too early nor a second too late.

The Mast looked at the wine.

This wine was brewed by Mr. Lin himself, buried underground for a year, and though it was fruit wine, with a rich and unparalleled fragrance, it still had some slight impurities remaining in the liquid, like tiny green ants.

Green ant new fermented wine, red clay small furnace, late evening snow imminent, can one drink a cup without?

The Master picked up the cup with a gesture, and muttered to himself,

"Although the wine is fragrant, it has so many impurities, how can it be drunk?"

Mr. Lin calmly sipped his wine, glanced at him, and said,

"A few impurities, though unsightly, are harmless to the body, and the drink has its own unique flavor."

"The Master might as well try it."

The Master laughed, a look of sentiment appeared on his face, as if he was moved, but ultimately, he placed the cup back down.

He stood up, casually inserting the plum branch back onto the stone table.

And walked away with long strides.

"One does not tire of well-refined food, of finely cut fish."

"This wine, I cannot drink."

The plum branch was inserted into the table, without any force or violence, as if it naturally grew out of the Qingyan stone table, spreading its branches and stretching its body, and blooming on some cold winter day.

Not sure if it was an illusion, the flowers seemed to bloom more vibrantly.

As if Lin Zizai had not seen the Master leave, beneath the pavilion on this winter’s day, he was still alone, quietly drinking, serene and unflustered, taking the last sip of wine into his throat, standing up, looking at the plum branch in the ground, gently touching the petals.

The perfectly blooming cold plum withered completely.

"Adhering to old ways, after all, is just being an ordinary pedantic scholar."

His robes fluttered, like flowing clouds pouring down, Lin Zizai walked slowly in the direction opposite to where the Master had left.

This secluded ’world’ suddenly made contact with the outside world.

Silently, the hundred-yard radius of the garden, the ground, the lake, the cold plum, the pavilion.

Collapsed directly downwards by an inch and three tenths.

No one noticed.

............…

Fufeng Deputy Chief Arrestor Zhu Jian’an was in the inner courtyard, conversing with several members of the Noble Clan. Not just talking about something, laughing out loud. By his side, stood several legitimate daughters of the Noble Clan, beautiful in appearance, their smiles as stunning as the cold plum, their eyes intensely fixed on Zhu Jian’an.

Yan Ling watched from a distance, discerning a ’fake smile’ on his superior’s face.

Lifted his hand to straighten the constable’s Vermilion Clothes on his body.

He had entered this Imperial Family’s separate courtyard, telling the Imperial Guards that he needed to take someone out to handle a case. If alone, he definitely would not be able to leave; at this moment, he could still feel the relentless scrutinizing gazes on him.

In any case, he needed to take someone out.

Wang Anfeng or the Deputy Chief Arrestor, either way, and moreover…

Seeing Zhu Jian’an’s continuously secret pleas for help, Yan Ling suddenly felt the impulse to pretend he hadn’t seen it and turn away. This would allow him to witness the Deputy Chief Arrestor’s embarrassing moment, which would surely be interesting. But thinking of the consequences, he forced himself to suppress this tempting idea.

His lips slightly pursed, putting on a somewhat impatient and stern look.

He quickened his pace, walking briskly towards Zhu Jian’an.

As he walked, he brushed past a rather tall man. Almost instantly, a strange feeling of coldness crept up his spine. Yan Ling paused slightly, but showed no outward sign, nor did he look back; he simply continued walking, perhaps adding a bit more genuine urgency to his quickened steps.

Li Sheng, known as the Laughing Tiger, noticed the young patrol officer’s movements and felt a flicker of appreciation.

However, this fleeting approval was quickly swallowed up by his usual demeanor, and taking advantage of Li Changxing being behind in the main hall, absorbed in a precious collection of poems, he changed his appearance and hurriedly made his way.

Shortly after, he appeared outside a different courtyard, where inside the pavilion flowed water, the cold plum had it all. No one else was present, not even the continually accompanying armed Martial Artist, only an old man in a gray double-breasted long shirt stood before the plum, seemingly lost in thought, perhaps waiting for someone.