Chapter 18: Pursuing a High Quality of Life (Part One)

Fang Jun had been living quite comfortably for the past two days.

Madam Lu, fearing that her son might have suffered internal injuries from his fight—and knowing that with his personality, he would never admit it even if he had—ordered the kitchen to prepare a rotation of nourishing meals. She insisted on anything that offered strong replenishment, leaving Fang Jun’s cheeks glowing with a healthy, rosy flush.

The young maid, Qiao'er, seemed to feel that she had fallen short in her duties as a personal attendant. Consequently, she had been incredibly diligent lately, anticipating his every need—from handing him clothes to serving his meals—allowing Fang Jun to fully enjoy the decadent, pampered life of a young master in a feudal landlord’s household.

Seeing her young master’s complexion improve day by day, Qiao'er felt immensely gratified. Her only complaint was that the young master adamantly refused to let her brew tea for him, even though she had secretly learned several techniques from the senior maids serving Madam.

His elder brother, Fang Yizhi, also came to visit and offered a few words of encouragement.

Fang Yizhi was several years older than Fang Jun, had married the previous year, and resided in a different courtyard. Given their vastly different personalities, they did not interact much, spoke little, and suffered from a generation gap.

Fang Yizhi was a man of utmost sincerity and strict adherence to protocol. He never did anything improper and never spoke unnecessary words. His exhortations for Fang Jun to apply himself to his studies were filled with obscure classical jargon, leaving Fang Jun dazed and confused. Seeing this, Fang Yizhi could only sigh that "rotten wood cannot be carved" and depart, deeply disappointed.

Overall, life after transmigrating to this ancient era seemed quite pleasant. The only regret was that he had yet to hear any rumors regarding whether the Emperor intended to call off the marriage. This left a lingering shadow in Fang Jun’s heart.

Rome was not built in a day, and the path to annulling his engagement remained long and arduous.

With the four treasures of the study on his desk, Fang Jun grew bored. Recalling how the magistrate Zhou Fu had been struck with awe at the sight of his "Zhao-style" calligraphy at the Chang'an County office, he felt a surge of inspiration. He called for Qiao'er to grind the ink and began to practice on rice paper.

"The marriage annulment is not yet successful; comrades must still strive..."
"The road ahead is long and arduous; I shall search high and low to find my way..."

After writing two pieces, he felt increasingly in the zone and decided to compose a couplet:
"Success belongs to the determined, like the burning of the boats, the two hundred Qin passes eventually fall to Chu; the heavens will not fail the painstaking, like sleeping on brushwood and tasting gall, the three thousand soldiers of Yue can swallow Wu."

The Zhao-style calligraphy was elegant and streamlined, blending the ancient with the modern. His brushwork was clear and deliberate, with every stroke—from the beginning to the end—perfectly defined.

This final couplet was particularly outstanding, reaching the peak of Fang Jun’s abilities. It captured seven or eight parts of the true essence of Zhao Mengfu, and Fang Jun was extremely satisfied. However, fearing that if these pieces were to circulate, he might accidentally earn the reputation of a "literary giant"—which would complicate his grand plan of annulling the marriage—he had to destroy the evidence.

"Qiao'er, burn all of these."

He crumpled them into a ball and handed them to the young maid to dispose of.

"Oh."

The maid responded with a look of confusion. Qiao'er was literate enough to recognize some characters; while she didn't understand the nuances of the Zhao or Fang styles, she knew what looked beautiful. In her eyes, the characters her young master had written were magnificent, no worse than those of the renowned masters. It was a pity to burn them.

But since the young master had ordered it, she could only gather them up and head out to find a brazier. There was one in the study, but she didn't want to fill the room with smoke and soot.

As Qiao'er stepped out of the courtyard toward the kitchen, she ran into Fang Yizhi, who was walking in her direction. She quickly bowed and offered a greeting: "Greetings, Eldest Young Master."

Fang Yizhi, being a humble man who held no airs with the servants, asked, "Is your young master in the study? And what is that you are holding?"

As a scholar, he was fond of calligraphy and stationery. Seeing the crumpled ball of rice paper in Qiao'er’s hand, he felt a flicker of annoyance, assuming the maid had ruined perfectly good paper.

Qiao'er quickly explained, "It is the calligraphy the Second Young Master just wrote; he ordered me to take it away and burn it."

Fang Yizhi asked curiously, "Why burn it?"

Qiao'er looked innocent and replied, "I do not know, sir..."

Fang Yizhi said, "Let me see it." He was curious; had his younger brother written something treasonous that required burning?

Qiao'er handed the paper to Fang Yizhi. He straightened the sheets, and his eyes widened in shock.

The ink was still fresh on the rice paper. Each character possessed a rounded, robust appearance, with internal strength hidden within the strokes. The dots and lines were vigorous and elegant, the structure wide and graceful. They were tightly interconnected, appearing soft on the outside but firm on the inside—a display of both aesthetic beauty and structural integrity.

Fang Yizhi was stunned, muttering, "The marriage annulment is not yet successful; comrades must still strive... Success belongs to the determined... The heavens will not fail the painstaking... The verses are excellent, and the calligraphy even better. Did my younger brother write this?"

Qiao'er replied, "Yes, the Second Young Master wrote it himself. I was just grinding the ink for him."

The little maid felt a spark of pride. The Eldest Young Master was renowned throughout Chang'an for his scholarship; if even he said it was good, then it truly was! She hadn't expected the usually quiet Second Young Master to possess such a talent for calligraphy.

Fang Yizhi shared her sentiment, exclaiming, "I always thought my younger brother was unlearned and lazy. I never saw him write, yet he possesses such skill and can compose such brilliant verses. My brother is truly talented; I am far inferior to him..."

As he spoke, he actually carried the papers away, reading them as he walked. He was so absorbed that he nearly walked into a courtyard wall; had Qiao'er not cried out, he might have ended up with a bloody forehead.

There was no helping it; the impact of these pieces was simply too great for Fang Yizhi. In an era where the imperial examination system had yet to fully flourish, being able to write beautiful calligraphy and compose poetry on the spot marked one as a man of culture, and to develop one's own style was to be considered a master of literature.

In Fang Yizhi’s eyes, with both his calligraphy and poetry, it was no exaggeration to call his brother a literary giant.

...

Back in the study, Fang Jun was giving instructions to Fang Sihai.

"Look at this map. I drew it based on the description of a wandering Taoist. It might have some discrepancies with reality, but they won't be significant."

Fang Jun pointed to the map he had drawn with his brush on the rice paper, explaining in detail to Fang Sihai.

"...Deep in the Wuyi Mountains, there should be a Zen temple called Tianxin Yongle Zen Temple. The name might differ, but that’s not important. What matters is a valley not far from there called Jiulong Ke. The cliffs on both sides of the valley are undulating and steep, shaped like nine dragons. The locals liken the valley to the lair of a wandering dragon, hence the name. Your mission is to go there and search for several tea trees on the cliffs along this valley..."

Fang Sihai looked at the map, scratched his head, and said, "This looks like the area of Jianzhou Prefecture in the Jiangnan East Circuit."

Fang Jun asked in surprise, "You know this place?"

Fang Sihai shook his head. "I haven't been there, but the year before last, the Censor Geng Wenzhong fell into disgrace. Fortunately, the Master pleaded with the Emperor on his behalf, so he was merely demoted to a local post. When he came to bid the Master farewell before leaving, I overheard that Magistrate Geng was heading to Jianzhou."

Fang Jun was overjoyed. "That’s perfect! Take the seal of the Fang household and go straight to Geng Wenzhong. With his help, your work will be twice as effective with half the effort."

Fang Sihai agreed immediately, though his heart was racing: *The Second Young Master stole the Master’s seal. If this is discovered, I wonder if the Master will beat me to death...*

However, as the son of the old steward of the Fang household and a self-proclaimed elite among the second generation of servants, he would do anything for the Second Young Master.

*Who will run this household in the future if not the two young masters? Even if the Second Young Master is a bit dull, he will be the Master one day. As long as he puts in a good word for me, I’ll be the head steward of the Fang household...*

Indeed, Fang Jun had sent Fang Sihai to the Wuyi Mountains to find the Dahongpao tea.

Fang Jun didn't have grand ambitions. With his father, Fang Xuanling, as his backing, while they weren't necessarily the wealthiest in the world, the family had ample assets and he had no worries about his livelihood. He didn't need to struggle to make money.

The current Emperor was Li Er, the "Heavenly Qaghan," an emperor for the ages. Fang Jun wasn't tired of living yet; he certainly wouldn't dare rebel under the nose of such a formidable man.

Since he had no political aspirations and no need to worry about the economy, the most important task was to elevate his quality of life to a level he found satisfactory and to ensure his days in the Tang Dynasty were as comfortable and carefree as possible.