The carriage wheels rumbled over the bluestone roads of Tiandu City, heading toward the Thousand Buddha Temple outside the city.
They had set out late. The streets were gradually growing lively, with crowds flowing back and forth like a tide. Their group blended into the stream of travelers, appearing quite ordinary and low-key.
Li Mu followed alongside the carriage window, constantly brushing shoulders with the passing crowds.
He did not look at those people. Of course, they paid no attention to a servant boy walking beside the carriage. He was like an utterly inconspicuous hoe, or a blunt knife already rusted through, breaking open the fields and slicing through flowing water.
Li Sinian wanted to hear a story, and Li Mu wanted to tell one too.
But what kind of story should he tell?
Because of his poor health, Li Mu had read countless tales of heroic wanderers and chivalrous warriors as a child. Yet he had no confidence in telling any of them. Given Cui Xiaoxin's vast reading, she might have read every story he had, and even the stories he had not.
Li Mu made up his mind. He would tell the story of his own experience.
"Once there was a poor scholar who fell in love with a rich family's beloved daughter. Not only was the young lady beautiful, she was clever, kind, and good-hearted, and she gave the scholar a great deal of help."
"A poor scholar falling in love with a rich young lady? Your story is so old-fashioned! Our family has hundreds of books like that. Who wants to hear you tell it?" Li Sinian shouted from inside the carriage.
Li Mu smiled at Li Sinian, understanding that she was worried this story would not move Cui Xiaoxin. He continued, "The poor scholar always