Hezhou was really far from Shangyang.
Someone asked Zhao Ger if the goods were almost sold out.
Zhao Ger said, "Yeah! More than half. It's also because you aunties bought so much."
"Will you come again next time?"
"Not sure yet. Even if we do, it'll have to wait until next year." Hezhou was really too far from Shangyang. Just getting here took over half a month.
What?
Now the common folk panicked. They came knocking before dawn, wanting to buy several boxes of instant noodles and sweet potato noodles to stock up, afraid that if they suddenly couldn't buy any, the children and elderly at home would throw a fit.
As soon as the door opened, everyone rushed to buy like they were robbing the place.
Boss Qian went from being stunned at first, then envious, to now completely numb.
Fang Zichen helped Zhao Ger sell for three days. On the fourth day, he refused to come down and help no matter what.
"That big sister came again yesterday." Fang Zichen lay on the bed speaking worriedly. "She blushes whenever she sees me. I suspect she's already taken a fancy to me."
Zhao Ger: "...Are you sure? That's exactly what you said last time."
Fang Zichen saw him giggling and naturally thought of what they had done back then too, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Stop laughing. How am I supposed to keep my dignity when you're like this? Take Uncle Tang with you to sell today!"
Zhao Ger got up and put on his clothes. The small inn had few guest rooms, not quite enough to go around, so Zhao Ger slept with the children. The bed in their room was big—about two meters wide—but with six people it was still a bit cramped. At night the whole family had to sleep sideways. Right now Guaizai, Gungun, and Dandan were still dreaming. Zhao Ger lay down next to Fang Zichen again and lowered his voice: "Husband, the instant noodles and sweet potato noodles are almost sold out. What about the xuan paper?"
So far not a single sheet had been sold. Zhao Ger could see Zhang Fan was anxious beyond words.
"I'll go to Huai'an Academy today and push sales there." Fang Zichen pinched his cheek, unable to keep his hands off him. "With me personally taking action, everything can be handled with ease. Don't worry. A few sheets of paper—are we afraid we can't sell them?"
Zhao Ger gave him a kiss. His round face was so cute when he smiled: "I knew my husband was the best."
"Keep a low profile, keep a low profile." Fang Zichen turned his face over. "One more."
Zhao Ger buried his face against his neck and laughed again.
Yesterday Fang Zichen had the imperial guard deliver a letter to Academy Head Zhang. Today, knowing Fang Zichen was coming, Academy Head Zhang led a crowd of teachers and students to wait in person at the academy gates.
After waiting half a shichen (1 hour), the students were about to be roasted alive. Those who could afford to study came from extraordinary families. These people ordinarily lived refined lives—when cold, charcoal was burned in their rooms; when hot, a servant fanned them at their side; when traveling, it was always by carriage. They were used to being pampered and held up by others, and had never been sunned like this. Now they were so hot their whole bodies were sticky, unbearably uncomfortable. These young masters spoiled by their families simply couldn't hold out.
"Who is the academy head waiting for?" Someone wiped sweat and asked in a low voice.
"Don't know." But for the academy head to personally wait respectfully and mobilize so many people, the visitor's background must be considerable.
"Is Lord Yan coming?"
"Probably not. Last time Lord Yan came, our academy head wasn't like this."
Then who on earth was it? Such a grand air, even their academy head came out personally to welcome him—but why was the person so late? They had already waited most of a shichen. Was he delayed, or did he look down on their Huai'an Academy and act this way on purpose?
Everyone whispered and murmured, and the more they talked, the more heated they became. Their tone grew dissatisfied—it had actually turned into a "denunciation." Academy Head Zhang turned his head and scolded them once.
The students had just quieted down when a carriage drove up ahead and stopped at the academy gates. Driving it was the imperial guard who had come to deliver the letter the day before.
Academy Head Zhang could not hide his excitement and was about to step forward when a child jumped down from the carriage first, followed by a handsome scholar with an air of luminous elegance.
Earlier they had only heard that Lord Fang was peerless in both talent and looks, and that when he rode through the streets on parade, crowds of girls and gers chased after his horse shouting and howling. Not only that—even men blushed when they saw him.
Academy Head Zhang had originally thought the rumors were exaggerated, but now, seeing him, the rumors were truly not false!
The crowd of students and several teachers behind him were also dazed.
Academy Head Zhang stepped forward in three strides and bowed: "Lord Fang."
"Oh, Academy Head Zhang." Fang Zichen helped him up. Seeing his head covered in sweat and his brows slightly furrowed, he couldn't help looking up at the sky. "This official is late?"
It shouldn't even be two o'clock yet, right?
He had left early.
"No, no." Academy Head Zhang said excitedly, "It is not yet the end of weishi. It is this old man who couldn't wait, wanting to catch a glimpse of Lord Fang's elegance."
[Weishi: 1-3 PM]
Fang Zichen laughed and patted Academy Head Zhang on the shoulder: "Academy Head Zhang, you're quite savvy!"
"Not at all, not at all. Lord Fang came all the way to Shangyang, and to grace our academy—my Huai'an Academy is truly honored beyond measure, fortunate beyond three lifetimes."
This flattery made Fang Zichen feel wonderful all over. He laughed: "Saying things like that—now you're being too polite."
The other party seemed to have not the slightest official airs, nor did he put on the aloof bearing of a civil official. Although Academy Head Zhang was also a scholar, he was neither fussy nor a pedantic bookworm stuck in old rules. Fang Zichen being like this actually made him breathe a sigh of relief.
Guaizai was still carrying a small schoolbag, standing by Fang Zichen's leg, his big eyes dark and bright, held by Fang Zichen's hand. Academy Head Zhang smiled: "This must be Young Master Guaizai."
Guaizai was very surprised: "Grandpa knows Guaizai?"
How could he not recognize him!
He had fought the Beimang people and won glory for Da Xia. One sentence—he could eat two chickens per meal—had overawed everyone. In the imperial garden he had dug like a mouse making holes, turning it beyond recognition, and still kept his head on his shoulders. In all of Da Xia there was only this one. Moreover, Fang Zichen's fame spread far, and everyone naturally knew his family circumstances clearly.
But Guaizai calling him grandpa truly made Academy Head Zhang feel flattered beyond expectation.
Yet the several teachers and numerous students behind him were even more stunned, unable to recover.
Lord Fang?
Was it the Lord Fang they were thinking of?
But then again, although Academy Head Zhang held no official post, as head of an academy his disciples were spread across the realm, and his son still served in the Ministry of Revenue in the capital as a fourth-rank official. For Academy Head Zhang to treat someone so favorably, either the person's official rank was quite high, or his literary talent was especially outstanding.
But for an official above fourth rank, and surnamed Fang, they only knew one.
It was probably him.
Who didn't know Lord Fang? The legendary Six-Time Champion — like diarrhea, nonstop and unsettled, he took one imperial exam after another in quick succession and in just three years passed as the top scholar. After entering the Hanlin Academy he advanced triumphantly all the way, going from sixth rank to third rank in less than a year. They wouldn't even dare dream such a daydream. This man was the model of their generation!
Wasn't Lord Fang in Hezhou? How could he appear at their academy gates?
A legendary figure—today they finally saw him. But he was even younger than they had imagined, looking no more than around twenty, still with the appearance of a youth when he smiled, like an easily fooled little brother at home.
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