Though the old physician was a bit long-winded, he was a kind soul. In this city of self-serving officials, it was rare for a stranger to offer such earnest advice.
Zhao Xunan lay on his back, chuckling softly. "Doctor, you've got me all wrong. I didn't get hurt in a fight."
"Injured not from a brawl? Then what? A cart ran you over? A donkey kicked you?" The old man squinted, then used bamboo chopsticks to pry open Zhao Xunan's mouth. Spotting two cuts inside, he shook his head and motioned for an apprentice to fetch ointment. With a silver spoon, he carefully applied it to the wounds.
After the treatment, Zhao Xunan explained the ordeal with a bitter smile. The old physician gasped, his tone turning grave. "A good man fears a shrew's clutches. Guard your heart—never marry her!"
"Wait?" Zhao Xunan blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Listen to me. No matter how pretty that woman is, never take her as a daughter-in-law!" The old man leaned in, lowering his voice. "You were beaten like this before marriage—if you'd married her, wouldn't she have killed you by now? Such a vicious woman shouldn't live in this world!"
"Doctor, are we talking about the same person?" Zhao Xunan asked, bewildered.
After bandaging the wounds, the old physician escorted Zhao Xunan out, calling after him, "Shrews are the worst. Even if you marry into a good family, you'll still face trouble. Remember—never let a shrew into your life!"
On the street, passersby paused to gawk as Zhao Xunan galloped home, his face burning with embarrassment. What on earth was the old man rambling about? he thought.
"Ping'er, I'm back—with pastries!"
Zhao Xunan strode into their rented courtyard. Zhao Ping'er bounded out, but her smile faded when she saw his bloodied face. She helped him sit, her hands trembling as she examined the cuts on his ear and around his eyes.
"Don't hide it from me, Young Master," she said, voice thick with worry. "Who did this? That black-hearted Miss Li again? How could she be so cruel?"
Tears welled in her eyes. "If only Father hadn't treated her back then—such a vile woman doesn't deserve to live!"
Zhao Xunan sighed, letting her cry as he recounted the day's events. When he finished, Ping'er hugged him, sobbing, "I hate her. I really do."
After cleaning his face and changing into soft cotton pajamas, Zhao Xunan lay in bed with a book. Ping'er curled up beside him, her head on his arm.
"You know, Young Master… Maybe being an official isn't all it's cracked up to be," she mused. "Uncle Li works day and night, never gets to go home—where's the joy in that? If you don't want to be an official, we could travel the world, write poems, and enjoy life. Who needs the stress of office?"
Zhao Xunan smiled, setting down his book. It wasn't easy to change Ping'er's mind—she'd always pushed him to succeed. But now, her words felt sincere.
"I've been thinking the same," he admitted. "The world's full of wonders. Why not wander, free from the chains of office?"
"Exactly!" Ping'er nodded vigorously. "Traveling's better than dealing with that shrew any day!"
Zhao Xunan laughed. In his past lives, he'd clung to power and status, fearing loss. But reborn thrice, his heart had softened. Now, he saw peace in simplicity.
A knock at the gate interrupted them. Zhao Ping'er ran to open it—and froze.
It wasn't the landlord or the rotund Lü Qingcai. It was Song Tuzi, the outspoken scholar who'd defended him earlier.
"Brother Song? This place is humble—forgive the mess," Zhao Xunan said, rising to greet him.
Song Tuzi waved it off, plopping onto a rickety armchair. "I heard you were battered by the Imperial Preceptor at Zhige Academy. Came to check on you." His eyes sharpened. "You look terrible. Internal injuries?"
Zhao Xunan forced a smile. "Nothing a few days of rest won't fix. The Emperor ordered her to act—I'm just grateful to be alive."
Song Tuzi sighed. "The Emperor and the Imperial Preceptor… No wonder you're struggling. But why not fight back?"
Zhao Xunan shrugged. "What can a lowly scholar do against a cultivator like her?"
As they talked, dinner was served. With his mouth sore, Zhao Xunan sipped warm porridge while Song Tuzi devoured his meal, his manner unguarded—almost like Ran Sheng, a friend from Zhao Xunan's past.
Curious, Zhao Xunan asked, "You're quite… direct. Any particular reason?"
Song Tuzi grinned, biting into a steamed flatbread. "My family's been military for generations. My father's the Vice Minister of War. We're called the 'Brave Clan'—too blunt for court politics, but honest."
Zhao Xunan laughed. "Honest? You called the Imperial Preceptor a 'shrew' to her face. That's more than honest—it's brave."
Song Tuzi winced. "Let's just say… I've got a knack for stirring the pot."
Over dinner, Song Tuzi revealed he'd come to warn Zhao Xunan: The Emperor had tasked him with keeping an eye on the scholar, but he'd never expected the Imperial Preceptor to intervene directly.
"Still, I support your choice to abandon the exams," Song Tuzi said. "Court officials are all schemers—you'd wear yourself out bending over backward for them. Wandering freely? That's the life."
Zhao Xunan nodded. Song Tuzi's candor was refreshing.
As the moon rose, Song Tuzi prepared to leave. Hesitating, he added, "If you still want to pursue cultivation, there's another path—the Martial Arts Academy. The court can't interfere there."
"The Martial Arts Academy?" Zhao Xunan frowned. "I've never heard of it."
"It's ancient—older than the four great academies. Founded during the Northern Rong Dynasty, even before the Great Qin Empire. The Founding Emperor decreed it 'eternal,' so it can't be shut down. No one talks about it, but it's real."
Zhao Xunan's eyes lit up. "Who runs it?"
"No idea, but my father says it's led by someone extraordinary. Tomorrow, check by the Luo River—you might find your answer."
With that, Song Tuzi hurried off, forgetting the hour.
Alone, Zhao Xunan closed the courtyard gate, gazing at the moon. Hope, he realized, was a stubborn thing. If the Martial Arts Academy was real… maybe his martial path wasn't over yet.