Chapter 2: The Eldest Son of a Noble Family (1)

  The autumn sunlight filtering through the paper window spilled onto Zhou Wenbo's body, bringing a warm feeling. Zhou Wenbo, who had finally cleared his mind, sat up, startling the girl beside him.

  The girl was about seventeen or eighteen years old, wearing a dark green autumn outfit, her pale skin had a bright luster under the sunlight, and her oval face wore a deep worried expression. Although she wasn't wearing makeup, she looked even more stunning than those modern girls who were skilled in using cosmetics and PS techniques.

  Seeing the young master who had been unconscious for several days suddenly sit up, a pair of bright eyes staring at her firmly, made Qing'e, who had served the young master for many years, feel a strange sense of shyness. For a moment, the words that had already reached her lips couldn't be spoken.

  In Zhou Wenbo's eyes, the girl's face, which was originally bright and radiant, suddenly flushed with a red glow, attracting people to an exponential degree. The two of them were staring at each other in such a sudden and strange way, but Zhou Wenbo couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia in his heart, thinking that such a pure and innocent girl might only be encountered during his school days, while the girls of the new era had already evolved into another kind of creature.

  The brief awkward atmosphere between the two people was quickly broken by another girl who walked in, this one obviously much younger, about 13 or 14 years old, with a pink dress and delicate features, her skin as white as fine porcelain, almost like a doll. If she were around today, she'd probably be photographed by her classmates and become an internet sensation, just like the "Milk Tea Sister".

  Qing'e, Hong Zhuang. From Li Bai's poem "The Girl on the Jade Rock by the Stream": "Jade-faced girl from Ye Creek, Qing'e with red makeup." These are the names given to the two maidservants by Zhou Wenbo.

  In the year 923, after Li Cunxu overthrew the Later Liang, he selected some of the remaining palace maids and awarded them to his meritorious officials. Zhao Guogong Zhou Deyan was awarded ten palace maids, among whom Qing'e and Hongzhu were assigned to be personal attendants of Zhou Wenbo and lived in the outer quarters every day.

  This time Zhou Wenbo fell into the water, and the two of them were naturally nervous and worried that Second Master would have an accident. Now seeing Second Master actually sitting up, with eyes full of spirit, they couldn't help but feel relieved and surprised.

  After a moment, the door curtain was lifted by someone, and Mrs. Lü walked in first.

  Lü Old Lady, as Zhou De-yuan's first wife, is now fifty-eight years old. The rise of the Zhou family originated from Zhou De-yuan, and Lü was skilled in farming and household management. Even though she had become a noblewoman for three years, she still personally tilled and weeded the half-acre vegetable garden at home. Therefore, although she was approaching sixty, she was still light and healthy, except for her speckled white hair, which did not show any signs of aging.

  Mrs. Lü sat at the head of the bed, rubbing Zhou Wenbo's forehead with her hand: "Is my son better?"

  Zhou Wenbo straightened his body, but his head leaned forward slightly: "I'm sorry to trouble Mother to worry, the child is already fully recovered. This time falling into the water, because winter is approaching, the bridge surface is icy, and I accidentally slipped into the water, please Mother punish me."

  Mrs. Lü glanced at the door, and Qing'e and Hongzhuang were standing with their hands down, not speaking. She knew that Wenbo had a good relationship with these two maidservants and did not want them to be punished.

  "Be careful in the future, don't be so careless again." Since Wenbo has recovered, Old Lady Lü also didn't want to come forward and play the villain. After entrusting a few words, the group finally walked out of this small western wing.

  Throwing off the thick bedding, Zhou Wenbo was thinking about how to wear these ancient clothes when Qing'e and Hong Zhuang had already brought over the cotton-padded jacket, headscarf, and leather boots.

  At this scene, Zhou Wenbo could only let out a long sigh and stand up straight according to his memory, waiting for the two girls to dress him. As he felt the slender fingers of the girl sliding over his body, he couldn't help but feel infinite emotion: "This corrupt life is really great!"

  He put on his padded jacket, fixed his hair knot, tied his headscarf and wore his leather boots. Zhou Wenbo couldn't wait to see how he looked after being reborn. Qing'e carefully brought over a copper mirror and held it up in front of him.

  Although it can't compare to the dressing mirrors of later generations, the mirror's surface is clean and bright, and one can make out their general appearance. It's a fitting description: refined, elegant, and cultured, with a good complexion.

  At just over 1.7 meters tall, Zhou Wenbo, who was well-read in ancient history, knew that this height already exceeded the average height of men in ancient times, but still felt a little disappointed. However, he is not yet sixteen years old this year and should still be able to grow a bit taller.

  Zhou Wenbo had originally planned to take a good stroll around the Zhao State Duke's mansion, but thinking that he had just "recovered from a major illness", he was afraid of causing worry, so he decided to go to the study.

  The study was named "Listening to the Pine House" by Zhou Wenbo, because it is surrounded by several tall pines, and when the wind blows, it makes a rustling sound.

  Pushing open the door, I entered a study of over thirty square meters. After passing by the screen, my first glance fell upon the bookshelves stacked with books. "Three hundred volumes of bamboo slips, eight hundred scrolls of paper books." It's no wonder that the Zhao State Duke's residence could collect so many books in this chaotic world where martial heroes reign supreme.

  Zhou Wenbo has been reading books since he was five years old. In the past ten years, he has roughly read through the classics, histories and collections of various schools of thought. Now these knowledge have become second nature to him, sinking deep down, and are inherited by Yan Lu who comes from another world.

  In the center of the study is a large mat woven from reeds, and in front of the wooden window is placed a long desk with all the necessary writing utensils. On a low table at the side are placed a guqin and a Go board, while on the wall above hang several framed paintings.

  Yan Lu was also young and had practiced calligraphy classes, regular script imitated Yan Zhenqing and Liu Gongquan, running script imitated Mi Fu, and had also worked hard for many years. Zhou Wenbo's studies over the past decade were precisely the calligraphy of Yan and Liu two masters.

  Due to many years of war, countless books were scattered or damaged. Fortunately, Yan and Liu left behind many inscriptions on stone steles, which allowed rubbings to be made and passed down, so that even today people can only rely on these rubbings to practice calligraphy.

  Grinding ink and moistening the brush, Yan Lu's hand, which had not touched a brush for nearly ten years, was inexplicably shaking slightly.

  As time progresses, modern people almost never use hard-brush pens, let alone brush pens. At that time, when the pen was sealed, the young Yan Lu was still lamenting the decline of calligraphy over the years, but unexpectedly, after typing tens of millions of words on the computer, there would be another day to pick up the brush again.

  After putting down the pen, my hand was much steadier than I had imagined. One by one, plump and vigorous characters fell onto the paper. A moment later, a poem "Plum Blossom" by Wang Anshi appeared on the paper: "A few branches of plum blossoms in the corner of the wall, bravely blooming alone in the cold. From afar, I know it's not snow, for there is a subtle fragrance coming."

  The soul that traversed time and space blended surprisingly well with this diligent book-loving youngster. After signing his name, Zhou Wenbo carefully appreciated the dozens of characters on the paper, which were quite elegant and refined in style. Whether compared to himself ten years ago when his calligraphy skills had not yet matured or to the young man who had studied hard for ten years, they both surpassed him by a margin of three parts.