Li Shu sat down quite naturally at Zhu Ping’an’s writing desk, flipping through the manuscript pages he had written. As she turned page after page, she asked in a seemingly casual, almost absentminded tone,

“You still remember, right? In two more days, we newly appointed Hanlin scholars will be on leave. When it’s time to go, just tell me—I’ve already packed everything.”

Zhu Ping’an was chewing on his breakfast as he listened. He looked up at Li Shu across the table and nodded, his words coming out a little indistinct through the food in his mouth.

“I remember. Two more days. I’ll let you know when we leave.”

Under the hazy, gently swaying candlelight, Li Shu’s delicate face gained an added touch of allure. Her lips were a soft cherry red, her skin pale and fine as porcelain, and paired with the noble grace she had carried since birth, she seemed like a pearl glowing with inner light, a piece of jade shimmering faintly in the dark.

As the ancients once said: view mountains from a tower, watch snow from the city walls, admire flowers by lamplight, and behold a beauty beneath the moon—each is a scene unto itself.

Truly, they spoke no falsehoods.

In this candlelit moment, Li Shu was breathtakingly beautiful. If this were the modern world, a “fair, rich, and beautiful” woman like her would exist only on a screen—someone his former self could do nothing more than stare at and admire from afar, with no possibility of their lives ever intersecting. Her figure, her face, her bearing—everything aligned perfectly with the goddess he had once dreamed of.

It was only natural to appreciate beauty; everyone did. To claim he had no thoughts about Li Shu at all would be a lie.

Remove AdsBut once her willfulness, her sharp tongue, her occasionally venomous temper came to mind… he could only keep his distance. He liked the cup, yes—but the tea inside was not the tea meant for him.

“Hey! Why are you looking at me like that?” Li Shu lifted the book in her hands to shield her chest, baring her small tiger teeth as she glared at him, fierce and indignant.

Just like that—this kind of willful little girl was not cute at all. Weren’t the refined young ladies of ancient times supposed to be gentle and soft-spoken, elegant and demure? How did this one end up acting like a modern-day barbaric girlfriend instead?

Judging by temperament alone, he felt more like a native of this era, while she seemed like the one who had transmigrated here.

Of course, Zhu Ping’an knew Li Shu well enough. She was a genuine, authentic Ming-dynasty girl through and through. This temper of hers had simply been spoiled into existence by Li the wealthy patriarch and her several doting elder brothers.

He pursed his lips, chewing the food in his mouth methodically, deliberately ignoring Li Shu as she continued to show her little tiger teeth. It made her feel as though she had thrown a punch straight into a pile of cotton—utterly powerless. All she could do was glare at him fiercely.

As Zhu Ping’an lowered his head and returned his attention to breakfast, he heard Li Shu speak again from across the table.

“Hey, the route back home has changed a bit.”

“Switched to land routes?” Zhu Ping’an asked.

The route had changed? He was slightly surprised. Had water transport been replaced by land travel? If so, they would have to ride horses or carriages. Even with careful arrangements, the journey would take at least ten days of constant jolting and fatigue—far more exhausting than traveling by boat along the Grand Canal.

“No. Yesterday my uncle was appointed Jiang Overseer of the Left Military Commission of Yingtian, concurrently commanding the Left Guard of the naval forces…” Li Shu had barely finished that sentence when Zhu Ping’an suddenly sprayed out a mouthful of food, as if struggling desperately not to laugh.

Zhu Ping’an was having a very hard time holding it in.

The moment he heard that Li Shu’s uncle, Li Tingzhu, had been appointed Jiang Overseer, he was caught completely off guard. Before he could stop himself, he spat out his food—fortunately turning aside in time so it landed harmlessly on the empty floor.

What an outrageously domineering official title!

Back in his modern dormitory days, he and his friends had jokingly given each other absurdly crude “island-nation-style” names, filled with shameless innuendo. But upon hearing the title “Jiang Overseer,” Zhu Ping’an suddenly felt that they had all been far too innocent back then.

Jiang Overseer—an overseer who didn’t even spare the rivers themselves. What overwhelming dominance!

Remove AdsOf course, he knew perfectly well that “Jiang Overseer” was simply a type of supervisory military post. Still, his first instinct was to think of it in a decidedly improper way.

“What are you doing, Zhu Ping’an?!” Li Shu shot him a sharp glare.

“Nothing—I just choked. Please, go on,” Zhu Ping’an shook his head, though the corners of his mouth were still twitching.

Li Shu’s uncle being appointed Jiang Overseer of Yingtian and concurrently commanding the Left Naval Guard was well within Zhu Ping’an’s expectations. In his memory, Li Tingzhu would later primarily serve in Nanjing. The Left Military Commission was one of the Ming dynasty’s Five Military Commissions—the others being the Front, Rear, Right, and Central Commissions. Together, they functioned much like modern military regions, with the Left Commission overseeing the Southern Directly Governed areas.

During the Jiajing era, “Overseer” was not yet a fixed, standardized post. Positions like Overseer of the Capital Garrison were often filled by meritorious nobles or eunuchs. As a descendant of a distinguished family, it was only natural for Li Shu’s uncle to take up such an appointment.

Still, Zhu Ping’an couldn’t quite see what this appointment had to do with changing their travel route.

“Hmph. Since my uncle is now Jiang Overseer of Yingtian and commands the Left Naval Guard, and because His Majesty has temporarily relaxed the sea ban and issued an edict allowing official ships to sail along the coast, my uncle plans to head south by sea. He wants to familiarize himself with coastal waters so naval drills will be smoother once he takes office. So this time, we’ll be traveling by sea. On a very, very big ship,” Li Shu explained, her chin lifting slightly with pride.

So the court debate over the sea ban had borne fruit astonishingly fast—just as Yan Shifan had said the night before. The sea ban was temporarily eased. And Li Shu’s uncle had been appointed Jiang Overseer at precisely this moment. It seemed clear he had successfully aligned himself with the Yan father-and-son faction.

For most people of the Great Ming, massive seagoing vessels were still something unfamiliar and even intimidating. But to Zhu Ping’an, this was nothing remarkable. In the modern world, aircraft carriers existed—how could a Ming dynasty ship surprise him?

The sea ban would surely be reinstated and relaxed again in cycles. Taking advantage of this brief window to see the unspoiled ocean of the Ming era was nothing but a blessing. The modern seas were choked with industrial waste and garbage; the pristine waters of this age must be breathtakingly beautiful.

“All right. Sounds good,” Zhu Ping’an said, nodding without hesitation.

Seeing him agree so readily, without a moment’s thought, Li Shu was a little surprised—but inwardly delighted. Having this “toad” Zhu Ping’an accompany her home would make the journey far more interesting.

Blue skies, white clouds, an endless azure sea—and a toad who had plucked the laurel of success. Just imagining it made her wish they could depart this very instant.

After discussing their return, Li Shu grew quiet. She sat calmly at the desk, reading through Zhu Ping’an’s manuscripts. The only sound in the room was the steady crunching of Zhu Ping’an eating his breakfast. Every time she heard that sound, the corners of Li Shu’s lips would unconsciously lift.

Breakfast that morning was lavish, its flavors unmistakably those of the Li family’s master chef. After eating his fill, Zhu Ping’an bid farewell to Li Shu and the little maid Baozi. He then went to the stables, led out his jet-black horse with the flamboyant mane, and rode toward the Hanlin Academy.

Remove AdsWhen Zhu Ping’an arrived, there were only two officials present—both having been on night duty. Seeing him arrive so early no longer surprised them. In recent days, Zhu Ping’an had been coming at this hour without fail.

Why come so early?

To read books and drink tea, of course.

Watching his brisk figure disappear toward the library pavilion, the two officials shook their heads quietly.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep