Chapter 38: It is never wholly predestined by heaven and earth; human effort always claims a three-tenths share

The scent of decay lingered in the air for a long time, refusing to dissipate.

Looking up, the sweet osmanthus tree no longer needed an idle hand to shake its blossoms down; only a full crown of green leaves remained. Before Cheng Heng could sigh at how autumn turned into winter in the blink of an eye, a small child came running straight toward him.

"Whose family are you... You..."

Before Cheng Heng could finish his sentence, he watched the child walk right through him and into the study behind. Inside the study, sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air. Cheng Heng saw a young scholar surrounded by a group of noisy students, and the leading teacher was looking at them with a gaze full of expectation.

"Oh, is it time to move on to the next world, or... to go back?" Having experienced it once already, Cheng Heng was mentally prepared to be transported to a familiar yet unfamiliar place, or to be directly returned to real society. Other than wondering how the people here might turn out, there was nothing truly worth worrying about.

"Sir, I heard there was another teacher here before, one who taught quite a few capable students?"

"Yes, exactly so." The young teacher nodded, looking at the students before him. "You too will surely achieve success... even surpassing them."

Cheng Heng did not know when his perspective had shifted to the front of the young teacher's desk. Fixing his eyes on the latter, he found this face somewhat familiar.

"I heard the teacher always favored a student named Ruan Bi, though it's a pity that his career as a county magistrate turned out rather mediocre, leaving him with no choice but to return to his hometown and become a schoolteacher."

At this, Cheng Heng finally understood.

This young teacher—or rather, a schoolteacher merely younger than the Ruan Bi he had met once again later in life—was clearly Ruan Bi himself. Had he really returned to his hometown to teach?

Favoritism? Cheng Heng did not feel as though he had ever shown favoritism.

"What is wrong with being a schoolteacher? You are a schoolteacher, Sir, and rumor has it that you are a imperial scholar!"

"Teacher, I didn't mean..."

"I know." The young teacher, Ruan Bi, smiled. His gentle gaze carried a strange expression, something akin to helplessness mixed with self-reproach—emotions Cheng Heng himself rarely felt, making them hard to put into words. "Some of you might perhaps wish to become a schoolteacher in the future."

"Indeed, indeed, Teacher! This... Ruan teacher, do you happen to know him?"

"I..." Ruan Bi hesitated. In the end, he could not bear to tell these children, who had yet to grow up, such a cruel and embarrassing truth. Although unavoidable lies still ought not to exist, they could at least resolve many problems. "Though Ruan and I were fellow students, we did not cross paths very often back then."

The child did not know who Ruan Bi was and simply kept addressing him as "Teacher," entirely unlike modern students who might call their teacher directly by name. So Cheng Heng thought, and a large part of the anxiety that had just risen in his heart finally settled.

This story ought to have ended here. Yet as the sun climbed to its zenith, into noon, and even until the group of children rushed out toward the bustling streets, Cheng Heng did not leave this small world as he had imagined he would.

Just as Cheng Heng began to wonder if there was still something he needed to do, whether it was Ruan Bi's inner thoughts or a silent whisper, it traveled into his ears.

"Teacher, why did you place such high hopes on your student? Was it because you knew my disposition, knowing that I would one day return to this enclosed world to inherit your mantle?" Ruan Bi gave a bitter smile. "If that truly was the case, then Teacher, you guessed right. My personality is genuinely unsuited for officialdom; I am only fit to stay right here and be a schoolteacher who desires nothing else."

"Yet back then, Teacher clearly hoped that I would have a smooth and successful official career, didn't you? Otherwise, why didn't you try to dissuade me at all when I knelt to bid you farewell?"

Ruan Bi stood up and walked out into the courtyard. On the sweet osmanthus tree, the deep green leaves showed every vein with an extraordinary aged look. It was a withered sort of green—full of vitality, yet unable to go far no matter what, and even if someone with care were to transplant it from here to there, it would likely not survive long.

"Or perhaps Teacher wanted me to discover for myself that the path of officialdom was impassable, so that I would return to my roots?"

"Yet Teacher, you always said... that whatever one does should reap a corresponding reward." Ruan Bi stood still, gazing at the osmanthus tree before him, as if hoping to find a tiny tender bud upon it, though he ultimately failed. "Teacher, everyone knew you favored me. Why did you favor me? In the end, I never became the person Teacher hoped for."

What a massive sweet osmanthus tree, growing just high enough to slightly clear the top of the wall before stopping altogether. Surrounding houses had already built higher horse-head walls, yet this osmanthus tree produced no new leaves—and naturally, it could never cross a higher wall again to catch a glimpse of the world outside.

"Favoritism. The teacher truly showed favoritism."

"Favoritism!"

"The teacher is partial!"

Tens of thousands of voices overlapped in his ears, clamoring noisily. Cheng Heng found it beyond annoying.

Yet not long after, these sounds grew louder and louder. Entering Cheng Heng's ears, they ceased to sound like characters and transformed into a ringing, "Buzz!" akin to severe tinnitus.

"Watch where you're going!"

When an unfamiliar voice rang out, Cheng Heng was startled.

"Why don't you watch the road? Such a wide street, and you're walking right down the middle with your eyes closed... Could it be that you can't see anything at all?"

"Apologies, apologies, I'll move aside right now." Cheng Heng offered profuse apologies, yet his footsteps beneath him fumbled and patted the ground with tiny, hesitant steps, alternately retreating and advancing, completely out of sync with his apologetic words.

A whirlwind of events spun through his mind, rendering Cheng Heng momentarily incapable of gathering his wits.

"A grown man, acting like a bookish nerd!"

Someone gave Cheng Heng a fierce yank. As he stumbled onto the sidewalk, he barely managed to regain his senses—at the end of the street, two familiar figures came into view.

Before he could process that the two people were none other than the Ruan father and son, Cheng Heng's feet instinctively stepped away from the troublesome scene, hurrying back to his own quarters as fast as he could.

Clearly, aside from needing to sort out these inexplicable occurrences, Cheng Heng was still dodging the choice between what his heart longed to do and what everything around him was compelling him to do.

A knock sounded at the door, and Cheng Heng's heart began to hammer wildly. Not knowing how to face the Ruan father and son, he wanted to act like a turtle retreating into its shell and hide himself away first.

"Te—"

Opening the door, he was fortunate to find that the visitor was not the Ruan family, but a family seeking instruction. However, weighed down by the lingering oppression of the word "favoritism," Cheng Heng had no energy to deal with anyone at the moment.

"My deepest apologies, but I am feeling unwell today. Please return another day."

Cheng Heng despised teachers who showed "favoritism." Such teachers were not rare, and Cheng Heng had encountered more than one. If not for having enough people around him to keep him walking forward, Cheng Heng would not be the person he was today.

Yet when had he himself turned into the very kind of person he resented?

The sweet osmanthus tree put forth new buds, striving to grow taller, eager to catch more sunlight and flaunt itself against the sky.