If I'd Had This Talent Back Then, I'd Have Been a Hundred Times Wilder Than Your Grandson!

At Feng Yan's words, Wei Nisheng visibly faltered for a moment.

Feng Yan did not look up. He continued writing, his tone as casual as if he were making small talk.

"Since you're clever, I won't hide it from you. At this morning's court session, quite a few people wanted this old man driven out of the Capital!"

With that, he said no more and quietly continued writing.

The flower pavilion fell silent, save for the rustle of his brush across the Xuan Paper and the occasional birdsong in the distance.

Wei Nisheng stood to one side, watching Feng Yan's back as his thoughts raced.

Feng Yan's meaning was plain: because of you, I intervened in the matter of Wei Mingde and the Cui Family, and now I've been impeached!

But why did he sound so relaxed?

Wasn't he worried?

Wei Nisheng's gaze fell on the words Feng Yan was writing.

[A gentleman should sit as solemnly as a ritual personator and stand as reverently as one observing purification; observe rites as circumstances require, and follow local customs when serving as an envoy.]

These words came from the Book of Rites and described how a gentleman ought to conduct himself.

He should sit as upright as the personator receiving ancestral offerings, stand with the solemnity of one observing ritual purification, adapt his etiquette to the occasion, and follow local customs when sent abroad.

"A gentleman..." Looking at that line, Wei Nisheng suddenly smiled, and relief eased his heart.

Then he stepped forward and said softly, "I believe you aren't worried, Lord Feng."

"Oh?" Feng Yan's brush paused. He raised his head and looked at him. "Why do you say that?"

Rather than answer directly, Wei Nisheng pointed at the writing on the desk.

"The words you just wrote, Lord Feng-'a gentleman should sit as solemnly as a ritual personator and stand as reverently as one observing purification'-teach people to be true gentlemen."

"But if you truly were such a gentleman, you wouldn't be sitting here talking to me today."

Feng Yan said nothing, gesturing for Wei Nisheng to continue.

"Since retiring, Lord Feng, you've kept your doors closed to visitors, playing the 'true gentleman.'

"But given your standing, even if you hadn't helped that 'father' of mine, he wouldn't have dared complain."

"Yet Lord Feng helped him anyway."

"Because Lord Feng knew..." Wei Nisheng spoke with deliberate emphasis. "His Majesty doesn't like gentlemen."

The words "doesn't like gentlemen" made Feng Yan's pupils contract slightly, and his expression began to change.

"You've been far too quiet since retiring, Lord Feng, wanting to be a true gentleman. But is that really what His Majesty needs you to be?

"Lord Feng, you've retreated in order to advance, but in His Majesty's eyes, that could have precisely the opposite effect.

"His Majesty won't be able to help wondering: What does this former chief grand secretary do at home every day? Is he plotting something?"

After all, if His Majesty truly wanted Lord Feng to retreat in order to advance, why would he have kept him in the Capital?

"So if you play the 'gentleman,' His Majesty will take the initiative to suspect you whenever anything happens."

"And that is precisely what you had already realized before I came to see you, Lord Feng."

"That's why I said..." Wei Nisheng looked at Feng Yan, his gaze clear as water. "You aren't worried, Lord Feng."

"Because His Majesty will surely retain those impeachment memorials without acting on them."

"And through this matter of mine, Lord Feng, you've gained on both fronts."

"You've dispelled His Majesty's suspicions and settled the debt of friendship you owed my grandfather."

After hearing him out, Feng Yan remained silent for a long time. As he looked at the ten-year-old boy before him, his gaze changed completely.

He was no longer looking at an "interesting child," but at "timber worth shaping"...

After a long while, Feng Yan put down his brush and suddenly smiled.

"How on earth did a child like you grow up?"

Wei Nisheng smiled faintly without answering.

Instead, he approached the desk, looked at the sheet Feng Yan had been practicing on, and asked softly, "Lord Feng, may I borrow your brush?"

Feng Yan nodded. "Go ahead."

Wei Nisheng picked up the brush, loaded it with ink, and began a new line beside Feng Yan's writing.

His brush touched the paper, and he wrote: "A man without an obsession is not worth befriending, for he has no depth of feeling. A man without a flaw is not worth befriending, for he has no true spirit."

These words came from the Ming dynasty, but in this age, no one had yet spoken them.

Feng Yan's gaze sharpened as he studied the two lines.

On the left were his words: "A gentleman should sit as solemnly as a ritual personator and stand as reverently as one observing purification." Dignified, disciplined, beyond reproach.

On the right were Wei Nisheng's words: "A man without an obsession is not worth befriending, for he has no depth of feeling." Unrestrained, genuine, their sharp edge laid bare.

The two lines stood side by side, just like the conversation they had shared.

Looking at that line, Feng Yan let out a deep sigh.

Then he raised his head and looked at Wei Nisheng, his eyes filled with complicated emotions.

"You mean... what I did today was precisely such an 'obsession' and 'flaw'?"

Wei Nisheng nodded. "You could have been a true gentleman who 'sits as solemnly as a ritual personator and stands as reverently as one observing purification,' Lord Feng, closing your doors to visitors and remaining aloof from worldly strife."

"But you didn't. You chose to help me. You chose to let a 'flaw' stain you, Lord Feng."

"That is precisely your 'depth of feeling' and 'true spirit,' Lord Feng."

"Only when His Majesty sees you like this, Lord Feng, will he feel reassured."

"And that is what you need most right now, Lord Feng. So you helped me, and I helped you in turn."

"Hahahaha!" After hearing him out, Feng Yan suddenly burst into hearty laughter.

When his laughter subsided, he looked at Wei Nisheng with eyes full of admiration.

"Good! What splendid words: 'A man without an obsession is not worth befriending'!"

"Wei Nisheng! You are truly impressive!"

Wei Nisheng bowed. "You praise me too highly, Lord Feng. I don't deserve it."

Feng Yan waved a hand. "It isn't excessive praise. It's the truth."

"Come, no more talk of anything else. I'd still like you, with your supposedly haphazard scribbling, to teach this old man how to write in the Slender Gold style!"

Wei Nisheng spent another half day chatting with Feng Yan and practicing calligraphy with him before finally leaving the garden.

Wei An was waiting outside. Seeing Wei Nisheng emerge, he hurried over and asked in a low voice, "Young master, how did it go?"

Wei Nisheng smiled faintly. "Very well."

The two walked out of the Feng Residence side by side.

Meanwhile, Feng Yan stood in the flower pavilion, gazing at the two lines on the Xuan Paper atop the desk without looking away for a long time.

The spring breeze passed, and petals drifted down, scattering over the desk and the two lines of writing.

Sunlight streamed through the latticed window and fell across the two lines, the left upright and restrained, the right fierce and sharp.

"Brother Wenyue, this grandson of yours is even more formidable than you were back then! And he knows what he wants, too."

"If I had to name a fault..." Recalling how Wei Nisheng had made no effort to conceal his intentions, Feng Yan smiled helplessly.

"That boy really doesn't want to endure even the slightest hardship!"

"But I like him."

"After all, a talented man without pride is no ordinary man! If I'd had this talent back then, I'd have been a hundred times wilder than your grandson!"