Dream of Yellow Millet

With a click, the mechanism in the Red-clad Girl's hand fell onto the carriage carpet, landing with a dull thud, as if she hadn't yet processed her father's words.

After a moment, her face pale, she said, "Father is joking, right?"

Su Shengyuan said seriously, "Marriage is a major matter—how could I treat it lightly? The truth is, this child's talent soars like a dragon in the wild; it only needs its time, and within a few years, he will ride the clouds and soar across the nine provinces and four seas."

"By then, he'll be renowned across the land, and even the noble families in the capital will be scrambling to claim him as a son-in-law..."

He meant to say that by then, his daughter would find it hard to associate with him.

But his voice paused, and he didn't speak those words, only saying, "He has a straight and principled character. Though he's poor now, it won't last long. If you treat him sincerely in his hardship, when he rises to fame and moves the world, he will never betray you. He is a good match."

Su Shengyuan spoke slowly.

A parent's plans for their children run deep.

This dragon stranded in the shallows was the best future he could foresee for his daughter. But the Red-clad Girl's face was ashen, her fingers twisting together. Finally, meeting her father's gaze, she bit her lip and slowly shook her head, saying, "Daughter... does not wish it."

Su Shengyuan was stunned. He didn't get angry, but asked gently, "Why?"

The Red-clad Girl was about to answer, but she couldn't find a single flaw in the young man's conduct or character. His appearance wasn't handsome, but it was resolute and composed, with its own integrity. Hesitating, she bit her lower lip and spoke her true thoughts: "He... his family is poor, and he has no elders to guide him. Even with talent, how far can he go in officialdom?!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was wrong, but she couldn't take them back. She steeled herself and continued, "Father has me read history books. Since ancient times, geniuses appear in every generation, but how many reach the top? As for the Five Clans and Seven Sects, even the mediocre among them gain official positions and move among the nobility."

"Is his talent greater than theirs?"

"Daughter... daughter does not wish it..."

Su Shengyuan was silent for a long time, looking at his daughter with complex eyes: "Having you read history... it seems you've indeed learned something..."

The carriage curtain was lifted, and a handsome young man in a brocade robe and jade crown entered, laughing brightly, "Uncle Su, what Sister Yue'er said, though a bit off, isn't it partly reasonable?"

"That Qi WuHuo may have talent, but the world is vast. Where can he find a way in with his learning? And though I'm not exceptional, I pride myself on some skill. Even without my family's backing, I'm not necessarily worse than Qi WuHuo."

This handsome young man smiled with charm and grace. He was from Su Shengyuan's wife's family, sent specially to pick them up, and rumored to have some connection with the Cui Family, one of the Five Clans and Seven Sects. Su Shengyuan saw the young man's arrogance and noticed a faint blush on his daughter's cheeks. He sighed inwardly, said, "Of course," and never brought up the matter again.

Qi WuHuo saw Mr. Su off, watching their carriage rush away, its wheels churning through the wind and snow, speeding down the town's only wide road, before he turned back.

He opened the bundle. Inside, besides a few clothes, there were some loose silver coins, about three strings of cash. Rice was a bit expensive now, ten coins per catty; pork and mutton, a whole hind leg, cost just over a hundred coins. A servant in the city cost only five taels of silver. Three strings of cash were more than enough for a family to get through the winter.

There were also a few books, filled with annotations.

Qi WuHuo held these things, feeling they were heavier than before.

Suddenly, the old man in the courtyard tapped the table and laughed, "Boy, what are you standing there for?"

"The tea is brewed. Come over and have a few cups with me."

Qi WuHuo put the things away and replied, "I haven't cooked yet."

The old man didn't mind. He poured two cups, picked one up, and watched Qi WuHuo prepare the meal. After the boy put the rice on to cook, he washed his hands and sat down at the stone table.

The old man's tea-making skill was excellent; the fragrance was ethereal and distant. Even Qi WuHuo, who had never drunk good tea, could tell this was far better than the small jar Mr. Su treasured so much.

The old man took a sip, glanced at the house, and chuckled, "That Mr. Su earlier—was he teaching in this little town? I heard he had high hopes for you."

"What, little one, you don't fancy rooms full of Gold and Silver, nor beauties like fairies, but want to study for the imperial exams instead?"

Qi WuHuo sat upright, drinking tea, and nodded.

The old man stroked his beard: "Why?"

Qi WuHuo ran his fingers over the cup, and after a long silence, said, "When I was young, my father would read and pat my back, saying a man should study to display his talent, to serve his country above and fulfill his ambitions within."

"When our hometown suffered a great disaster, I traveled and saw hundreds of thousands of displaced people. The officials at the time did nothing. If they had acted, I think many fewer would have died there."

"If I can become a civil official, I'll amend laws in the court, implement good policies, and benefit the people. If I become a general, I'll lead elite troops to campaign against the Demon Kingdom and avenge the people who died at the hands of demons."

"I can fully realize my ambitions."

He paused, then added, "I'll also meet the heroes of the age, see the splendor of The Human World, never live in constant fear, achieve fame, and leave my name in history."

The old man just sneered.

The young man said, "Is there something wrong with what I said?"

The old man stroked his beard and shook his head: "All wrong. Utterly wrong."

"You talk of being a civil or military official. If you become one, you're just a blade in the emperor's hand, a kept hawk or hound. The emperor points where you go, and you go. Your so-called relief for the people and defense against the Demon Race all require the emperor's approval to mobilize resources. If the emperor has no such will, even with heaven-defying abilities, you're useless."

"When you've outlived your usefulness, you'll be cast aside."

"You say you won't live in constant fear."

"Serving a ruler is like sleeping beside a tiger—how can you know which is more terrifying, the schemers at court or the demons beyond the mortal realm? Hah, why not let it go? Fame and fortune are nothing but worldly desires."

The old man sighed. "You have talent, able to discern good from evil, know honor from disgrace, disdain wealth and riches, view beauties as fleeting smoke, and resist the temptations of wine, lust, greed, and anger. Why, then, can you not see through the word 'fame'?"

Qi WuHuo pondered for a long moment, then said frankly:

"Your words come from the heart, old sir."

"But I am still young."

"There is so much splendor in this world—talented scholars and lovely ladies, mutual affection, heroes and warriors—I have yet to experience it all. Perhaps after I have seen these things, I will reach the same conclusion as you, old sir. But by then, I will be old as well."

Qi WuHuo murmured to himself:

"As for the word 'fame,' I will break through it in this lifetime."

The old man chuckled. "Break through it in this lifetime? Why must it be so?!"

Having said this, he spoke no more on the matter, instead inviting Qi WuHuo to drink tea and chat idly. If so, three rounds passed, and in an instant, the pot of tea was drained. Qi WuHuo suddenly felt drowsy, his eyelids heavy, while the Millet Dream Rice on the other side was still far from ready.

The old man smiled. "Are you sleepy, WuHuo?"

"If you are, go and rest."

Qi WuHuo initially intended to refuse, but his weariness was too overwhelming, so he had to agree. As he rose, his steps faltered. When he returned to his room, he found his pillow missing and searched for it for a long time without success.

He was about to sleep without it when the old man produced another pillow, seemingly made of jade—Flawless White Jade—and called out to him with a smile:

"Come, come, come. I have a pillow here, given to me by a wandering Taoist priest. They say it lets you see many wonders in your dreams. Take it and sleep. Don't worry—I'll call you when the rice is ready."

Qi WuHuo's drowsiness grew even stronger. He nodded, took the pillow, and went back to sleep. The old man sat in the courtyard, stroking his beard and smiling, saying:

"Fame, fortune, wine, lust, greed, and anger—today I grant you an opportunity. Let's see whether you sink into profit and gain or break free from worldly desires."

"Go and have a grand dream."

The old man poured tea for himself alone. Though the pot had just been emptied, it now flowed endlessly. He looked up and murmured to himself: "What a pity—there is tea, but no flowers to admire."

Suddenly, the earth broke open, and a Strange Herb grew with the wind. In an instant, it transformed into a Winter Plum Blossom, blooming in a flash. Its fragrance drifted far and wide, blending perfectly with the tea's aroma—truly exquisite.

He added: "What a pity—there are flowers, but no snow."

In an instant, snowflakes began to fall, yet they did not touch the courtyard. The tea's fragrance, the winter plum, the drifting snow—it was an indescribably wonderful scene. The old man drank his tea, ethereal and solitary, as if not of this world. He tapped the stone table lightly with his cup, each tap accompanied by a murmured word:

"Beauty, hero, fame, fortune, wealth, status."

"Hah..."

He shook his head and laughed. "All are nothing but illusions, bubbles, and shadows."

He drank a cup of tea, held the cup in his hand, and gazed down at the withered winter grass. After a moment, he recited softly and plainly:

"See through the splendor."

"Then you may enter the immortal gate."