The Scholar’s Unconventional Little Wife - Chapter 10

The light rain continued to drizzle incessantly. The next day, Lin Ruo’an returned from her studies just as evening was falling. Without taking a moment to rest, she grabbed the tea leaves Xu Fenggu had prepared and stepped out into the curtain of rain.

The fine mist felt cool against her skin. Walking alone through the rainy alley to visit a mysterious blind old man and inquire about past events that might involve official secrets, Lin Ruo’an couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. But when she thought of Zhou Wenyuan’s smug face and Xu Fenggu’s encouraging gaze, she straightened her back.

“What’s there to be afraid of? It’s just a chat with an old man,” she cheered herself up. “After all, I’m a modern soul who has experienced the information explosion. How could I be scared by something like this?”

Blind Liu’s residence was near the outskirts of town, a secluded and quiet spot.

Lin Ruo’an knocked on the wooden door.

Slow footsteps echoed from inside, and the door creaked open. Blind Liu stood behind the door, wearing an old padded jacket.

“Grandpa Liu, it’s me, Lin Ruo’an from the Xu Family Restaurant.” Lin Ruo’an quickly took off her bamboo hat and bowed slightly. “My mother sent me. She said you were a prominent figure in canal transport in your younger days… and wanted me to ask you about the great flood in Qingjiang Prefecture years ago.”

Blind Liu stepped aside. “Come in, the rain’s heavy.”

The interior was cleaner and tidier than she’d expected. Blind Liu gestured for her to sit on the only small stool in the room, then fumbled his way to the low table between them to light an oil lamp. He settled himself into the worn rattan chair opposite her.

“Your mother’s a piece of work, sending a young girl like you all this way in the rain,” Blind Liu said slowly, his tone unreadable. His cloudy eyes “stared” at the dancing flame.

Lin Ruo’an’s heart skipped a beat. Young girl? Did he see through my disguise? Or was he just speaking casually?

“Grandpa Liu, you’re teasing me. I’m a young man,” she replied, her voice steady and as natural as possible.

Blind Liu chuckled twice, neither confirming nor denying her claim. Instead, he asked, “The Qingjiang Prefecture flood? That was three years ago. Why bring it up now?”

“It’s a topic for a school essay,” Lin Ruo’an said, using the prepared excuse. She placed the wrapped tea leaves on the low table. “The books only give a superficial account. I wanted to hear a firsthand account from someone like you, Grandpa, to gain a more practical understanding. This is just a small token of my appreciation, to soothe your throat.”

Blind Liu didn’t glance at the tea. He tapped his fingers lightly on the rattan armrest, as if lost in thought.

“Qingjiang Prefecture… The river there is called the Canglan River. It’s powerful and temperamental. Three years ago, it rained for an entire month. The waters rose to terrifying levels. But the levee that actually breached wasn’t the old riverbed or the usual flood-prone banks. It was the ‘Yong’an New Levee,’ which had been completed less than two years prior.”

Lin Ruo’an listened intently.

“That levee was the Prefect’s crowning achievement at the time. His reports to the throne painted it as an impregnable fortress,” Blind Liu sneered. “The stone and mortar were exclusively supplied by the Yonggu Stone Company in the prefectural capital. The owner, a man named Zhou, is the Prefect’s concubine’s brother.”

Zhou? Lin Ruo’an’s mind raced. The Prefect’s concubine is named Zhou? That surname…

“The flood breached the Yong’an Levee, submerged three counties, and killed countless people,” Blind Liu continued. “The imperial court dispatched disaster relief funds, but by the time the money reached the refugees, it wasn’t even enough to buy a handful of sand-filled coarse rice. After the flood, they conscripted laborers to rebuild the levee, calling it ‘relief through labor.’ They withheld wages, fed the workers rancid food, and when people died from exhaustion or disease, they were wrapped in straw mats and dumped in mass graves without even their names recorded.”

“The most laughable part is that just a few months after the disaster, the Prefect was promoted for his ‘meritorious service in disaster relief,” Blind Liu said. “Now, he’s the Minister of Works, a Third Rank official.”

“The current Minister of Works? Zhao Huaiyuan?” As a Xiucai, Lin Ruo’an knew a little about the court officials.

“That’s the bastard,” Blind Liu sneered.

He fumbled behind him, pulling an oilcloth-wrapped bundle from a worn rattan chest. He placed it on the small table and pushed it toward Lin Ruo’an.

“This was left to me by a sworn brother of mine, Chen San. He was a boatman in Qingjiang Prefecture at the time. He was swept away in the flood, and they never even recovered his whole body. This is his private journal, sent back to me through a messenger. It contains… things he saw and heard with his own eyes and ears. Things you won’t find in official reports, and certainly not in the history books they teach in schools.”

Lin Ruo’an stared at the oilcloth bundle, her heart racing. She could feel that this thin volume weighed more than a thousand pounds.

“Grandpa Liu, this is too precious…”

“Precious?” Blind Liu scoffed. “To me, it’s nothing but a pile of waste paper, fit only to accompany me into my coffin. To you, it might actually be useful, making those high-and-mighty officials, who only know how to recite flowery prose, understand the blood and tears shed by the common people.” His cloudy eyes “stared” at Lin Ruo’an as if piercing through her skin to see her true nature. “You’re a good child. In this world, it’s not easy to speak the truth. Take it, and be careful. Don’t let anyone who shouldn’t see it lay eyes on it.”

With things as they were, Lin Ruo’an no longer refused. She took the oilcloth bundle with both hands and carefully tucked it into her robes, pressing it against her chest.

“Thank you, Grandpa Liu. I will not let you down.” She rose and bowed deeply.

Blind Liu waved his hand. “Go on, the rain has let up. Tell your mother… things are getting restless in town lately. Keep the doors locked and be careful with fire.”

Lin Ruo’an’s heart tightened. Blind Liu’s words were no casual warning.

“Yes, I will remember.”

She left Blind Liu’s dim little room and stepped back into the rain.

As she neared home, the warm glow from the eatery’s window in the distance calmed her heart slightly.

She pushed open the door, bringing the damp chill of the outdoors with her. Xu Fenggu emerged from the kitchen, her gaze sweeping over Lin Ruo’an’s face and chest.

“Did you get it?”

Lin Ruo’an nodded, took the oilcloth bundle from her robes, and said in a low voice, “Grandpa Liu also warned us that there are strangers from the north wandering the town lately. He told us to be careful.”

“I see. Go change into dry clothes first. The porridge is warming in the pot.”

Lin Ruo’an changed her clothes and came out to find Xu Wangyou already out of her room, sitting at the table and sipping hot water. Seeing Lin Ruo’an, Xu Wangyou blinked and asked softly, “Is it cold outside?”

“Not too bad.” Lin Ruo’an sat down beside her as Xu Fenggu brought over bowls of porridge.

The simple meal of plain porridge and a few pickled vegetables felt exceptionally warm and comforting. The dining table was quiet, the only sounds the faint clatter of bowls and chopsticks and the steady patter of rain outside.

Xu Fenggu ate quickly. After finishing, she picked up the oilcloth bundle and said to Lin Ruo’an, “Put this away safely. Don’t betray Blind Liu’s trust. Do you have a better idea for the policy essay now?”

Lin Ruo’an set down her bowl, her eyes clear and bright. “With Grandpa Liu’s guidance and Chen San’s private notes, I at least know which direction to dig in.”

“Good.” Xu Fenggu nodded. “How you write it is up to you. But remember, a brush can sometimes be sharper than a sword, and it’s far easier to cause trouble with. Use your discretion.”

“I understand.”

Xu Fenggu then turned to Xu Wangyou, her tone softening. “Be extra vigilant tonight.”

Xu Wangyou nodded obediently. “I will.”

As night fell, Lin Ruo’an lit a small oil lamp and carefully opened Chen San’s private notes.

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