Li Xuanjing

Great Xia's government offices closed early. Chang'an County Office usually dismissed its staff at around four in the afternoon.

Li Nuo, who was used to early mornings, found it somewhat difficult to adjust.

In his previous life, he had worked more than twelve hours a day. Working overtime on Saturdays and Sundays had been the norm. He had never even dared dream of getting off work at four.

After returning from the county office, he read some Legalist classics and helped Mu'er with her studies. By then, it was time for dinner.

The Li Family's meals had always been lavish: eight dishes and a soup, despite there being only three diners.

Li Nuo, Song Jiaren, and Song Mu'er.

As for the master of this household—his father in this world—Li Nuo had been here for several days but had yet to see him even once. He had only heard Steward Wu mention that his father was usually busy with official duties and rarely returned home. Most of the time, he stayed at the government office, and even when he did come back, he arrived late and left early.

His official duties must truly have been hectic. At night, Li Nuo would go to sleep while he still had not returned. In the morning, Li Nuo would not yet be awake when he had already left.

The two of them were father and son who were destined never to meet.

Dinner at Li Manor was even more sumptuous than usual that day, with spicy rabbit legs and braised chicken legs. Those two dishes had been specially requested by Song Mu'er. The Li Family's cook was highly skilled; every dish was a feast for the eyes, nose, and palate, no less impressive than the work of famous chefs from later generations.

Li Nuo had attended several important banquets with the dean. In his opinion, the skills of those famous chefs from later generations were not even as good as his own household's cook.

Song Mu'er could not stop picking up food. With her little mouth puffed out, she said, "Brother Li Nuo, the food at your house is so delicious. It's much better than ours..."

Li Nuo had once heard Steward Wu mention that their household's cook seemed to be a highly paid member of the Gourmet school. The Gourmet school had no special abilities, but its members were unrivaled when it came to cooking. Without exception, the head chefs of the Imperial Kitchen all belonged to the Gourmet school.

Li Nuo had just picked up his chopsticks when he remembered something. Looking at Song Mu'er, who was eating with great relish, he warned her, "Mu'er, when you go home, whatever you do, don't say that the food at my house is delicious. Especially don't tell Ning'er..."

Song Mu'er raised her head, puzzled. "Why not?"

If she did not tell Song Ninger that she had eaten an especially delicious meal at Brother Li Nuo's house, would that mean she had eaten it for nothing?

Seeing her darting eyes, Li Nuo knew that she had already decided to go home and brag to Song Ninger. Given Song Ninger's temperament, she would probably come storming to Li Manor again. Just thinking about it gave Li Nuo a splitting headache.

He hurriedly said, "Don't ask why. In short, just make absolutely sure you don't tell Ning'er."

Under Li Nuo's strong insistence, Song Mu'er ultimately nodded obediently, albeit with some regret, and promised to keep it a secret this time.

After dinner, Song Jiaren sent Song Mu'er home.

Li Nuo returned to his room and continued reading.

Having only just arrived, he still had much to learn about this world.

Entering the Legalist school was indeed quite difficult, but once one crossed that threshold, setting aside offense, one's defensive and self-preservation abilities would improve tremendously. Even at the Initial Realm, one could unlock the Confinement Art. If Li Nuo had possessed the power of the Legalist school's Initial Realm outside the county office that day, he would not have needed his wife to intervene. That arrow would never have been able to harm him.

At the same Initial Realm, among all the various schools—including Martial Artists—only the Legalist school could achieve this.

A Martial Artist in the Body Sculpting Realm had no True Qi to protect the body and could not yet become impervious to blades and spears. Confucian school practitioners also had to reach the Third Realm before their Righteous Qi possessed sufficient defensive power. As for the other schools, their abilities leaned more toward support.

In terms of individual strength, at least in the early stages, the Legalist school stood alone, unrivaled.

Once one cultivated to the higher realms, however, each school had its own strengths. All possessed astonishing abilities, and there was no absolute distinction between strong and weak.

For example, the Agricultural school could control the weather; the Military School could greatly raise soldiers' morale and combat prowess; the Medical school could make one immune to every disease and even regenerate severed limbs; and the Mohist school could, through the power of a single person, control thousands upon thousands of mechanical puppets, taking cities and seizing territory with no obstacle in its path...

Of course, the Legalist school was not weak either. At the Fourth Realm, one could command the power of an Imprisonment Sentence, Drawing a Prison on the Ground and trapping someone alive in place until they died. At the Fifth Realm, one wielded the power of Penal Exile, forcibly moving one's opponent. Martial Artists of the same realm could not get close. Upon reaching the Sixth Realm, a single word—"death"—could make someone drop dead on the spot...

Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles.

Even if he did not cultivate these schools, he still had to understand them, lest someone schemed against him and he remained utterly unaware.

He went to sleep somewhat later that night. Only after drowsiness finally swept over him did Li Nuo extinguish the lamp and climb into bed.

A quarter of an hour later, a carriage moved slowly along the streets of Chang'an.

The curfew had long since begun, but not a single street constable patrolling along the way dared stop this carriage. Whenever it passed by, they would respectfully stand at the roadside and watch it go.

Before long, the carriage stopped outside Li Manor. A figure climbed down, and Steward Wu greeted him with a smile. "Master, you're back."

His expression held a trace of regret. "Young Master just went to bed. If only you had returned a quarter of an hour earlier."

The refined and handsome middle-aged man entered Li Manor and returned to his study. After writing for a while, Steward Wu looked at the two poems on the paper and smiled. "Master, you know what happened at Song Manor last night too..."

That morning, he had learned from one of Song Manor's servants what had happened at the birthday banquet the night before.

The birthday gift that the Young Madam had prepared for Old Madam Song had been secretly replaced with a stone. At the critical moment, Young Master had composed two poems in succession. Not only had he resolved the crisis, but he had also delighted Old Madam Song and earned unanimous praise from everyone.

He asked somewhat excitedly, "Master, are Young Master's two poems really that good?"

The middle-aged man nodded. "They cannot be considered particularly good, but they have some charm."

Steward Wu said comfortingly, "Heaven has eyes. This old servant said it long ago—how could the master's son possibly be a fool? When Young Master was little, he often played alone in the master's study. Could he have learned these things back then...?"

The middle-aged man looked at the two birthday poems on the paper. After a moment, he asked, "Tell me in detail again about the night Young Master was attacked..."

Steward Wu began, "That night, this old servant was already asleep. When I heard Young Master's scream, I rushed to his room at once and found that maid holding a dagger, just about to murder Young Master. Fortunately, this old servant arrived in time, and Young Master suffered only a minor injury.

"Afterward, Young Master's behavior seemed rather strange. First, he slammed his head against a pillar. Then, after waking the next day, he jumped down from the roof. He also no longer remembered anything from before. Ever since Young Master awoke, he became clever. Not only could he calculate, he could also adjudicate cases and compose poetry. It was as though he had become an entirely different person. If this old servant had not secretly examined the mole on Young Master's buttocks, I truly would have thought someone had switched him with another..."

He had watched Young Master grow up from childhood and knew every part of his body intimately. After conducting a careful examination in secret, he was utterly certain that Young Master was the genuine article.

The middle-aged man fell silent and said nothing more.

At that moment, Steward Wu remembered something and spoke with a troubled expression. "Oh, right, Master. Young Master seems to want to cultivate the Legalist school. These past few days, he has been adjudicating cases at Chang'an County Office and has even begun studying the Great Xia Codex..."

The middle-aged man was somewhat surprised. "Why does he suddenly want to cultivate the Legalist school?"

Steward Wu said helplessly, "It was all a misunderstanding. That day, the Young Madam mistakenly thought Young Master had improper designs on the female assassin and beat him up. Young Master seems to have been resentful ever since and kept pestering this old servant for ways to become stronger. He had no foundation in the Martial Dao, so this old servant told him about the Ways of the Hundred Schools. He chose the Legalist school himself."

The middle-aged man nodded slightly. "Among the various schools, the Legalist school is indeed the fastest to improve. Its strength is also the greatest of them all."

Steward Wu asked, "Master, what should we do now? Should we stop Young Master? Cultivating the Legalist school is simply too dangerous..."

The middle-aged man waved his hand. "Let him be. It is enough that he likes it."

Steward Wu said nothing more.

Cultivating the Legalist school was certainly dangerous, but with Master here, Young Master would remain safe and sound.

It was just that, after Young Master learned the truth, what would they do then?

He could not help worrying for both master and young master.

The middle-aged man rose and slowly walked to the window. Looking at the courtyard whose lamps had already gone out, he revealed a meaningful smile and murmured, "The Legalist school..."