Chapter 008: Awake, Yet Unaware of Love’s Allure; Speaking of Teaching Between the Lines and Through the Sweetness

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“Drip... drip...”

“Drip!”

“What...?”

The moment he opened his eyes, Guan Yin saw Sanheng standing before him. He was still dazed and disoriented.

Everything that had just happened had been a dream. Guan Yin desperately wanted to find Cheng Heng. At the very least, if he could see him, then in this strange land and unfamiliar age, he would not truly be alone. It was like meeting a fellow countryman in a foreign land: regardless of whether their views coincided, Guan Yin still regarded Cheng Heng as the only person he could genuinely trust when life and death hung in the balance.

“Has Madam still not returned?”

The familiar figure of Liu Jiao'an was nowhere in the room. Recalling the thunder that had rumbled moments ago, Guan Yin had yet to fully emerge from the dream.

“With rain coming down so heavily, Sanheng, go and meet Madam.”

“Husband, where is this rain you speak of?”

“There is no rain?” Guan Yin muttered absently. “Then that means...”

It meant that he was indeed alone. Perhaps seeing Cheng Heng had only been a dream. Or perhaps Cheng Heng had crossed over as well, only to arrive in a different world from his own, alone just as he was.

“It was not raining outside just now?”

Sanheng shook his head, giving precisely the answer Guan Yin did not want to hear.

“Could it be that you encountered rain in your dream, Husband?”

Sanheng realized that this had been a nightmare and that his husband had probably not yet come fully to his senses. He merely smiled, set down the kettle in his hands, and patiently explained, “Madam has already returned. She asked me to pour you some water and said that she bought something you like.”

As the two of them spoke, Liu Jiao'an entered and placed a paper packet on the table.

“Do you remember how much you liked these when you were little? I saw someone selling them today, so I bought you a small packet.”

Character bean candy, a specialty of Qimen. Guan Yin had loved it as a child. Now, with the packet placed before him and the words “when you were little” spoken aloud, he was suddenly lost in a strange reverie.

“What is it?” The momentary change in his expression alarmed Liu Jiao'an. “Have I made you remember something...?”

“No.”

Though he said no, the faint redness around his eyes betrayed him.

When he was young, both his paternal grandparents and his maternal grandparents had remembered this tiny preference of his. Very often, what truly moved a person was not some luxury car or grand house, but a small fondness such as this.

Later, he had left home and traveled far away in pursuit of his studies. He was not often in touch with his parents, but whenever a parcel arrived from his hometown, there was always a packet of character bean candy inside.

Until, one year, the character bean candy stopped coming.

Guan Yin had called home, and, as expected, heard the terrible news that had been kept from him for more than half a year...

“Go on, try some. I wonder whether they still taste the way they did when you were little.”

Guan Yin reached out and carefully unwrapped the paper packet. He studied the characters printed on the candies.

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The most common was the character for “blessing.” They melted into a sweet, sugary taste, the fragrance of beans and sesame rising around him. Yet what made them truly sweet was the heart of the person who had remembered to buy him such a little treat—a heart nothing else could replace.

“Thank you.”

Liu Jiao'an stared at him for a moment after hearing his thanks. When he turned away to give Sanheng some instruction, he felt something lightly poke his hand.

“You should have one too.”

“I... cannot eat them.”

“Why?”

Guan Yin, still not entirely himself, looked at Sanheng in confusion before turning back to Liu Jiao'an.

“I am sorry. I may not remember...”

“It is nothing. It is only that when I ate one as a child, it nearly cost me my life... Perhaps, perhaps...”

Looking at the characters on the candy, Guan Yin thought that perhaps he understood the meaning behind Liu Jiao'an’s hesitant “perhaps.”

And perhaps it was precisely because of these simple little candies that Guan Yin, who had originally intended only to leave, found himself wanting for a brief moment to persuade the person before him.

But he could not allow himself to form any attachment in the slightest sense.

If his appearance altered the course history was meant to take, who knew how much upheaval would follow? A butterfly flapping its wings—no one could know whether the result would be good or bad.

“Sanheng said you awoke from a nightmare just now.”

Before Guan Yin could voice even half of his intended comfort, Liu Jiao'an met his eyes.

“Do you feel unwell anywhere? Shall we go to the medical hall and have the physician prepare a calming draught?”

Guan Yin’s distracted and troubled state over the past several days had long been noticed by both Madam and Sanheng.

When Guan Yin woke from his dream that day, Sanheng had taken it for the result of a troubled mind that could find no peace even in sleep. He had embellished the matter when reporting it to Madam, hoping Liu Jiao'an would urge her husband to take better care of himself.

“There is no need.”

“Husband?”

“Husband? Madam is calling you.”

Only then did Guan Yin return to himself and realize that he had drifted away again.

Just now, he had been thinking that what people here called being “absent in spirit” was perhaps precisely what soul transmigration truly was.

He wanted to know whether a physician at the medical hall could see that he did not belong here and send him back to the modern world. Yet he was also afraid that some so-called soul-settling decoction might truly anchor him here, never to return him to the world that was his own.

Beyond the window, green mountains stood beneath the light. With whom would he greet each dawn, year after year?

Guan Yin suddenly conceived an idea that was not entirely moral. He knew little about verse drama, but he was familiar with the famous work The Injustice to Dou E and could still recall a line or two.

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The injustice and suffering in the original protagonist’s story seemed to leave plenty of room for him to add whatever he pleased. Since the tale had already been written in dozens of sections, surely one more seemingly unrelated passage would not matter.

Guan Yin decided to alter The Injustice to Dou E. He would deal with the crisis before him first and worry about the rest afterward.

“At a time like this, who cares whether it is moral or immoral? Staying alive is what matters!”

He repeated the words silently several times, trying to persuade his conscience.

Back in school, his adviser had warned him never to plagiarize his thesis. When Guan Yin had worked as a teacher, he had also known that his fellow language teachers were not afraid of students writing poor essays. What they feared was students copying one sentence from here and another from there.

“An essay may be badly written, but a person must still be good.”

“They patch together a sentence from here and another from there, thinking the teacher will not notice... In reality, it is like putting a golden rim on a chamber pot!”

Looking at his own handwriting—reasonably square and neat, though not the least bit graceful—Guan Yin felt the flush in his face grow hot.

“Husband, are you running a fever?”

Sanheng’s voice reached his ears. Guan Yin lifted his head blankly and looked at the two people in the room. Then he heard Liu Jiao'an say, “Once you have written the draft, I will copy it out for you. You should rest early.”

“But...”

“Husband, why are there so many buts?” Sanheng knew nothing of Guan Yin’s worries and continued speaking on his own. “Madam has said that since you are husband and wife, no matter what happens, you should face hardship together.”

Guan Yin did not know whether Guan Hanqing existed at this point in history, nor whether he was about to steal words that rightfully belonged to him. He had once found the tales of literary plagiarists thrilling to read. Only now, with the matter resting upon his own shoulders, did he discover how unbearable the guilt of conscience could be.

“Husband truly has a gift for writing. Look, even Madam... Ha, ha, ha.”

“Sanheng, do not speak nonsense.”

“Yes, yes, I shall obey Madam in everything. Sanheng... slap your own mouth!”

Watching their laughter and teasing, a world into which he could not quite fit, Guan Yin had no idea what was passing through his heart at that moment.

He merely raised his head toward the distant sky. Clouds glowed above green pines, and the setting sun rippled across the azure heavens. It was a beautiful scene, yet one that stirred his heart into unrest.