Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 122: Showing Off Affection in Style
Oh, come on, what is this? If modern-day innuendo jokes were told, they’d probably have her dragged off to the authorities.
Li Shu, Hua’er, and the others were all embarrassed, blushing as they chided one another.
However, this also gave Zhu Ping’an a moment to choose a book. He quickly scanned the row and picked out two: one was a collection of insights Zhu Xi had left from his reading of the Four Books and Five Classics, and the other was a collection of model Eight-Legged Essays. These were classic essays from the current dynasty that had been preserved because examination papers were returned to the candidates after the exams. Both books interested Zhu Ping’an, and he wanted to borrow one to copy at leisure, but since he was only allowed to choose one, he hesitated over which to take.
“If you want to choose both, you could, but you’d have to tell us the rest of Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils that you didn’t finish earlier.”
While Zhu Ping’an was hesitating, Hua’er spoke up at Li Shu’s prompting.
Zhu Ping’an naturally wouldn’t refuse.
So they brought out peanuts, melon seeds, and other snacks and sat in a row. In particular, the scheming girl, Li Shu, had the little maid bring in the seafood that had been preserved in ice. Then they set up a small iron stove, placing expensive Silver Frost Charcoal in it, and started grilling the seafood right there. Once the Silver Frost Charcoal caught fire, it produced no smoke, and the grilled seafood, free of smoke and charring, had a pure, rich flavor. Zhu Ping’an, sitting not far away telling the Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils story, couldn’t help but glance over repeatedly.
Of course, the scheming girl seized this opportunity to tease him for being unrefined.
“You really have no shame. I can practically hear you drooling!” Li Shu glanced at Zhu Ping’an in mock annoyance, then waved Hua’er over and had her bring him a plate of grilled seafood.
Hua’er carried a small plate over to Zhu Ping’an’s table. Apparently still holding a grudge over the earlier Mulan joke, she glared at him and set the seafood down with unnecessary force. “You’re in luck! This Silver Frost Charcoal and seafood were only delivered by the master’s people today, so they’re fresh. You really picked the right time to come.”
“Watch your mouth!” Li Shu cut Hua’er off before she could say more. Then she lifted her chin at Zhu Ping’an and said proudly, “Wipe your mouth. The sound of you drooling is disgusting.”
Zhu Ping’an looked at the fragrant seafood in front of him in surprise. It was all fresh seafood preserved in ice, and he hadn’t expected to eat anything like this in a mountain village. Li Shu’s usual pride clearly wasn’t baseless. He had heard that her father, Landlord Li, did business in salt, rice, silk, and tea with Huizhou merchants and had made a great deal of money, but he hadn’t realized just how wealthy the family was. They were willing to ship seafood from the coast packed in ice simply to satisfy their daughter’s appetite.
He had thought Landlord Li was merely a wealthy local landowner, but it seemed he had underestimated him. In this era, the profits from the salt trade were beyond what Zhu Ping’an had imagined.
The Ming Dynasty was a significant period for the formation and development of salt merchants’ capital. According to historical records, with the help of the policy in the third year of the Hongwu reign (1370), where merchants were summoned to deliver grain in exchange for salt, salt merchants flourished. One of the most important groups of salt merchants were the Huizhou merchants, particularly the “big merchants” and “upper merchants,” who were mostly salt traders. The activities of the ancient Huizhou merchants coincidentally included this region, so it seemed that the Li family’s wealth was likely tied to this.
Who would have thought that Landlord Li was actually a major salt merchant? He was remarkably low-key, hiding away in a mountain village. Perhaps he had learned from the fate of Shen Wansan.
But that was irrelevant to Zhu Ping’an.
Zhu Ping’an picked up a grilled squid dipped in seasoning. There was no smoke or charring, so the seafood retained its fresh taste. The texture was perfect, and paired with the sauce, the flavor was simply exceptional.
“Are you done? If you don’t continue, I’ll throw you out. Don’t even think about coming back.” The scheming girl saw Zhu Ping’an savoring the grilled squid, and because he wasn’t finishing up quickly enough, she spoke with disdain.
She really had no patience. Good food requires patience; every piece of meat has its own temperament.
Under the scheming girl’s urging, Zhu Ping’an began again.
Every character in Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils was exceptional, and the plot was a series of peaks. This time, Zhu Ping’an finished narrating the battle at Shaolin Temple, where Qiao Feng faced three enemies and fully displayed his supreme martial arts.
After hearing this, the scheming girl was filled with excitement, unable to settle down.
“That’s enough for today. I need to go back and study.” Zhu Ping’an stood, walked toward the door, bid everyone farewell, and left.
“Don’t go! What happens next?”
“Yeah, it’s still early! Tell us more!”
The maids, who had been listening intently, all spoke up to try and keep him. Zhu Ping’an simply turned around, smiled, and said he’d continue next time, then left.
When he returned home, it wasn’t long before it was time to prepare dinner. His mother, Chen, had already started, and his older brother, Zhu Pingchuan, had returned from the mountains, bringing with him two wild rabbits and half a basket of mountain delicacies such as wood ear mushrooms and bamboo shoots.
Back in his room, Zhu Ping’an spread out the borrowed books on the table by the window and prepared the ink, brush, paper, and inkstone. He then began to carefully transcribe, one word at a time.
The first thing he copied was the classic Eight-Legged Essay (a traditional form of Chinese essay writing) that had been passed down from the current era. As he copied, he could feel that the Eight-Legged Essay from the Ming Dynasty was slightly inferior compared to that of the Qing Dynasty. After all, the Eight-Legged Essay had been practiced for hundreds of years in the Qing Dynasty, whereas it had only been around for a little over a hundred years in the Ming Dynasty. The Ming Dynasty was full of vigor, while the Qing Dynasty appeared more mature.
By the time he finished copying the third essay, he heard the sound of bells outside, signaling the return of his father, who was driving a cow-drawn cart.
As if by some kind of tacit understanding, his mother, Chen, had also just finished preparing dinner.
Dinner was very hearty, and his mother seemed to be trying to feed Zhu Ping’an so much that it felt as though she wanted to fatten him up with a single meal. Chicken, rabbit meat, and fish piled up in his bowl until it was full to the brim.
After dinner, Zhu Ping’an was about to help his mother wash the dishes, but Chen sent him out, using the excuse that a gentleman should stay away from the kitchen.
She had barely sent Zhu Ping’an away when she called Zhu Shouyi, who was still out in the courtyard, into the kitchen to scrub the pots.
“Isn’t a gentleman supposed to stay away from the kitchen?” His father’s voice, filled with grievance, came from the kitchen.
“Stop pretending! What kind of gentleman do you think you are? Just answer me: Are you going to scrub the pots, Zhu Shouyi?” Chen began her loud scolding in the kitchen.
“Yes.” Zhu Ping’an’s father replied quickly and succinctly.
Then Chen’s soft laughter drifted out of the kitchen.
Listening from outside the kitchen, Zhu Ping’an couldn’t help muttering weakly to himself: This is just another way of showing off affection!
Returning to his room, Zhu Ping’an lit the oil lamp and began to focus on his book copying again. Each neatly written small character seemed to come alive under his brush, neatly arranged on the rice paper, creating a pleasing sight.
When the moon reached its zenith and the night grew deep, the world outside fell silent. Zhu Ping’an tidied up his desk, blew out the oil lamp, and fell into a deep sleep.