Chapter 4: The Poisonous Widow Who Brings Misfortune (Part 1)

Although such a situation is quite unimaginable, Tang Que had no more options. He understood that in the current circumstances, he must undergo a process of reformation in order to truly adapt to this new social environment. He needed to master the art of writing regular script with a brush here, to learn to proficiently recognize and write all commonly used traditional characters, and to relearn and systematically memorize the Five Classics as prescribed by the Tang Dynasty. Only in this way could the results of his more than twenty years of learning before his time travel be truly released and manifested.

The high-born lady of the Gao family, upon seeing the unexpected visitor at her door, was clearly taken aback. Thus, her words came out somewhat haltingly, "What brings you here at this time?" Although she posed the question, her body remained firmly planted at the entrance of the main hall, clearly indicating her reluctance to allow the woman inside.

Seeing her son eat happily, Tang Zhang's face was filled with wrinkles from her smile. She took out two coarse black pottery bowls to serve rice, and from the small grass basket hanging from the stove, she pulled out a steamed bun the size of a bowl: "Today, your elder sister and brother-in-law came to see you, and this steamed bun was brought by them. Look how white this flour is!"

Turning a slight corner, Tang Li saw from a distance two prematurely aged figures leaning against the wooden gate, peering outside. In the thickening dusk, these two figures appeared somewhat shrunken in the early spring night breeze

The son, who just days ago lay in bed unaware of life and death, has now walked all day and is still full of vigor. Tang Zhang's mother looks at him with eyes full of love and joy, holding an old handkerchief in one hand to brush off the dust from his body, while she chatters on: "The sun has already set, I was thinking you should be back by now. You must be tired from walking. I've already rolled out the dough for you; you can put it in the pot as soon as you go in"

Tang Que stood in the shadow of the house for a long time, quietly gazing at the warm and harmonious scene in the distance. It was only when he faintly heard voices coming from the road behind him that he finally took a step forward. After running back and forth for dozens of miles throughout the day, his legs no longer felt tired. Tang Que quickened his pace, moving faster towards the two figures.

After finishing his meal, Tang Que put down his bowl and said softly, "Father, I will go to work in the fields with you tomorrow." At present, the most pressing issue at home is the lack of food; it is essential to ensure a good harvest of this season's wheat, otherwise there will be no food to eat in the autumn and winter months. As for the matter of attending school in the village, it can only be postponed for the time being. Compared to this, the current food shortage that needs to last until the summer harvest is even more concerning.

The village school is situated in an open area surrounded on three sides by low earthen walls, encompassing a three-entry, three-room quadrangle building. In the twilight of the setting sun, the entire school appears exceptionally tranquil. Beyond the courtyard walls, the faint sound of children reciting their lessons can be heard drifting in the breeze.

The scene before him was peculiar. Tang Que tilted his body and peered through the crack of the door, observing a woman in the courtyard who appeared to be no more than thirty years old. She wore a plain six-pleated skirt that reached her ankles, and perhaps due to the cold wind, she had added a matching mud-colored collar to her shoulders. Unlike the loose and ample clothing styles of the late Tang dynasty, the current fashion for women still followed the customs of the Northern Zhou and Northern Qi, favoring narrow sleeves and fitted garments. This woman, with her naturally graceful figure, was further accentuated by the fitted skirt, which highlighted her alluring silhouette in exquisite detail. Perhaps due to the cold wind, she had added a matching mud-colored collar to her shoulders. Unlike the loose and ample clothing styles of the late Tang dynasty, the current fashion for women still followed the customs of the Northern Zhou and Northern Qi, favoring narrow sleeves and fitted garments. This woman, with her naturally graceful figure, was further accentuated by the fitted skirt, which highlighted her alluring silhouette in exquisite detail.

Before setting out for the county town this morning, Chuan Yue did not anticipate that he would once again step into a school, and moreover, into a school resembling a village primary school of later generations.

"Father, Mother." Compared to the expressions of gratitude from last night, Tang Que's address this time was devoid of much reluctance and awkwardness

The poetry of the Tang Dynasty, the Tang Dynasty of poetry, in this land of verse, in this realm where poetry serves as the standard for selection, in this country where literary talent is habitually measured by poetic ability, Tang Que did not lose confidence due to setbacks in the county town. He remained confident that he would one day live a good life, but the starting point of this good life was in the humble village school before him

The house before him was both dilapidated and impoverished, bearing no comparison to the later four-bedroom, two-living-room double professor's building. Yet, the laughter and affection that flowed within this humble abode captivated Tang Que immensely, a sensation that could never be felt in the cold professor's building.

Knowledge changes destiny! It may sound a bit clichéd, but it is indeed a profound truth. Murmuring to himself, Tang Que glanced once more at the academy shrouded in twilight before setting off towards home

Eating steamed buns with the sour soup poured over the rolled noodles is quite delightful. While Tang Que was enjoying his meal, he suddenly noticed that both Tang and Zhang had neither steamed buns in their hands nor any substantial noodles in their bowls, which contained only thin broth.

After washing his hands and face with hot water, Tang Que casually pulled over a small stool made from an old tree root and sat down. Naturally, he did not mention the difficulties he faced while looking for work in the county town, but instead shared a few things he had seen in the city. Even so, both Tang and Zhang listened with great interest, occasionally bursting into laughter.

After Tang Que fell seriously ill, he had less than a month of rest before he had to go up the hill to farm. Just as the Zhang family was about to persuade him to take more time to recuperate, they heard a commotion of footsteps outside, and then a well-dressed woman pushed the door open and entered.

Tang Que saw that the two elderly men were reluctant to eat even a single steamed bun. Looking at his father's rough hands, which resembled both firewood and a hoe, he felt a complex mix of emotions that was hard to describe. He reached out and took the steamed buns from the hands of the Tang Zhang family, and without further ado, he pressed them into the bowls of the two men. Once the buns were soaked in the broth, there was no way to take them back.

Tang Que noticed this and suddenly felt a flush on his face under the dim light. Having grown accustomed to living separately from his busy parents, he inadvertently revealed his feelings in this moment.

By the time Tang Que walked away from the academy, the sky was already shrouded in twilight. He made his way along the yellow mud path in the village towards the dilapidated house where he was temporarily residing.

Tang Que's sudden behavior left the Tang Zhang family feeling both heartbroken and delighted. They were heartbroken that the two good steamed buns could not hold up after being dipped in the soup, yet delighted by their son's filial piety. "Sigh... look at this..."

To conserve lamp oil, only one wick was used in the oil lamp inside the house. It was a dilapidated house borrowed for temporary stay, and there were not many formalities in the countryside. The large stove was built in the main room, and Tang Zhangshi added firewood to boil water. After preparing a basin of water for his son to wash his face, he began to boil water for noodles while inquiring about Tang Que's trip to the city.

"You all should eat quickly; if you wait any longer, it will become mushy," Tang Que said as he sat back down on the small stool and began to eat.

"Eat solid food when busy, and eat light when free. It's almost time to go to bed, so don't waste good things." Tang Zhangshi took the steamed bun handed to her by the man, and while walking towards the stove, she said, "You are in good health, so you must manage your diet carefully; save these for you to replenish slowly."

The Tang Zhang family indeed serves excellent tea and meals. The noodles are rolled to a perfect thickness, with a chewy texture that is quite satisfying. Paired with a spoonful of the sour broth underneath, it truly is a delicious farmhouse dish. Tang Que was indeed hungry, and after bringing over a bowl, he quickly devoured half of it in just a few bites, mumbling "delicious" as he ate.

Tang Que almost stopped in his tracks upon seeing the two figures, and the phrase "longing for homecoming" suddenly surfaced in his mind. In the more than twenty years that followed, he had learned this term early on, yet he had never truly felt its meaning. Because of this, this perfect expression of familial affection became his deepest regret and longing. He never expected that something he had desperately yearned for in later years would so unexpectedly present itself before him from thirteen hundred years ago. Thus, this perfect expression of familial affection became his deepest regret and longing, and he never imagined that something he had longed for in later years would so suddenly appear before him from thirteen hundred years ago.

Confucius said: "Why do you not learn poetry, young ones? Poetry can inspire, can be appreciated, can unite, and can express grievances. It pertains to the affairs of one's father in close proximity and the affairs of one's ruler at a distance, allowing one to understand the names of birds, beasts, grasses, and trees..."

As for Father Tang, although he looked at his son with a face full of affection, his hands were clasped in his sleeves and he said nothing. It was only after Tang Zhangshi finished speaking that he muttered a couple of phrases: "Next, go in and then below."

Putting down the bowl and steamed buns in his hands, Tang Que took out two steamed buns from the grass basket and unceremoniously stuffed them into the hands of Tang Zhang and another person.