HE With the Cold Male Protagonist C26

Chapter 26: Injured While Making Tea, A Bestseller Story

Jiang Baiye’s breath caught.

He turned his gaze toward the one who had just written those three words, and his eyes crashed into a pair of clear, glasslike shallow eyes, pure and without the slightest blemish. He couldn’t help but murmur softly, “No need to thank me.”

Lu Lizhi laughed at once, his refreshing moonlit face gaining a touch of brilliance, dazzling Jiang Baiye for a moment—until he noticed that the man’s smile had turned a little sinister.

Only then did he realize belatedly that he had exposed himself.

——Copy it two hundred times as punishment.

Lu Lizhi wrote, then circled the “Jiang Baiye” and “bastard” on the paper, signaling him to copy those.

Jiang Baiye immediately wailed in misery. “Lizhi, good Lizhi! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have tricked you about knowing characters, but I really can’t write, that’s why I wanted you to teach me… Don’t be angry, can’t you let me copy fewer times?”

Hearing the first half, Lu Lizhi still felt a little appeased, but the last sentence made his face harden again. He turned, took a long box from the bookshelf behind him, and pulled out a ruler, slamming it down in front of him with a crack.

“So fierce!” Jiang Baiye chuckled, behaving for once. The next instant, however, he stretched out his palm. “How about you just smack me twice to vent your anger?”

Lu Lizhi glared. He really didn’t know how to deal with this man. Seeing that it was getting late, he simply threw a warning look at him and went to the kitchen.

These past two days, he had gained quite a lot, bringing back many food items from the prefectural city. He had no intention of always using Jiang Baiye’s things or living off him. Even though his most important jade pendant was still pledged at Jiang Baiye’s place, he intended that once he had saved enough, he would “redeem” it back.

In the past, the house had only an empty rice jar and one or two eggs at most. Now there was meat, eggs, and ample rice and flour. Lu Lizhi thought for a moment, then made a vegetable and meatball soup, and along the sides of the pot, stuck two onion pancakes with eggs mixed in.

He was never particular about food; filling his stomach was enough. But under Jiang Baiye’s influence, this time he spent effort seriously considering how to make it more decent, at least presentable…

When he awkwardly brought the finished food out, he saw Jiang Baiye leaning slightly over his desk, tall frame bent, writing with utmost seriousness.

Stroke after stroke, deliberate and forceful—just like his own childhood when he had first learned to write.

Lu Lizhi’s lips curved despite himself. Clearly such a flamboyant, spirited man, and here he was, tucked in a corner, brow slightly furrowed, earnestly practicing, so focused he hadn’t even noticed him approaching.

As he leaned closer, wanting to see how Jiang Baiye was doing, he discovered page after page, even the sheet under his hand at the moment, all filled with—

Lu Lizhi, please forgive me.

Lu Lizhi’s chest burned hot, fingers curling as he pressed down on Jiang Baiye’s hand. Truly, how could there be such a person!

He set the food before him, signaling him to eat. Seeing Jiang Baiye’s face light up with delight, his own heartbeat quickened uncontrollably.

It surely couldn’t compare to Jiang Baiye’s own cooking. He wasn’t one to compromise on food, clothing, or comfort. What Lu Lizhi had made was rougher, far less refined.

Yet Jiang Baiye still asked with some disbelief, “This is really for me?”

Lu Lizhi had already begun eating on his own. He thought it wasn’t bad. Perhaps not as rich as Jiang Baiye’s meals, but it should have its own flavor?

But time passed and there was no response.

Although Jiang Baiye devoured every last bite he had prepared, even asked for more, and even ate what Lu Lizhi had saved for his own supper, reluctant to throw away…

Still, the man—usually so glib—suddenly said not a word. Lu Lizhi knew the verdict.

His heart chilled. He decided he would never again cook such things for him. Showing off his paltry skills was pointless!

After lunch, Jiang Baiye was forced to practice writing all afternoon before being dismissed. He shook his sore hand. “Teacher, are you still angry?”

Lu Lizhi shot him a cool glance, continued reading at the desk, ignoring him.

Jiang Baiye grinned, eyes both hopeful and mischievous. “Teacher, don’t forget to check my homework.”

Lu Lizhi wanted him gone immediately. He had never known himself to have such a temper. Just because Jiang Baiye ate his food without praise, he’d sulked for so long.

Lu Lizhi, since when have you become so petty?

He sighed. When the man finally left, he set aside the book and went to the window.

The spring breeze drifted in, carrying April’s gentle warmth, ruffling the thick stack of paper on the desk.

Lu Lizhi froze, staring at what was written all over them—

So delicious. So delicious. So delicious…

He bit his lips, but the coolness of his brows couldn’t stop a smile from spreading bit by bit, vitality coursing through him.

Flipping through, he found more—I want more. Please make it for me again. More, more, you’re not allowed to refuse.

Truly… scoundrel!

When Jiang Baiye returned home, he found his parents dusty and exhausted from outside, rushing straight to the water jar filled with spring water. His father barely lifted a ladle before his mother snatched it, gulping down several scoops at once.

“Leave some for me, don’t drink it all…” Jiang Dazhu looked at the jar nearly empty already, about to cry.

“Ahhh, refreshing!” He wiped water from his chin, tossing the ladle back at him. By then, the jar was nearly dry.

He had no choice but to refill from the bamboo pipe. As they did, they asked him about what they had heard: “Changshui, what’s this about a workshop, preparing medicine and such…?”

Jiang Baiye knew they would ask sooner or later. “Haven’t I always been the type to wander? I met all sorts of people, and through chance, learned many skills.”

It wasn’t a lie. He had transmigrated when the original was still a child. Even though in his last life he had amnesia, forgetting his modern life, his nature remained—curious, always wanting to learn.

Weaving, carpentry, carving, smithing, tool-making, dyeing, even archery and riding—if he was curious, he would learn it.

Others hadn’t known what he was doing, thought he was out idling. Even his parents, overly indulgent, had raised him laissez-faire.

Now, hearing this, they believed at once. “I knew my boy could do everything, but they wouldn’t believe me!”

“That’s right. And now I’m even learning characters with Lu Lizhi. I might need it later.”

Their eyes lit up. “Good! With learning, you won’t be cheated easily, and no one will call you ignorant. Good, good, we must thank Student Lu properly!”

Jiang Dazhu asked, “What about the tuition gift? You must be respectful—he’s preparing for the exam this year, and still makes time to teach you. That’s rare.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll give him something more precious than tuition as a gift.”

The next day, Jiang Baiye diverted part of the spring water toward their house, then headed to the mountains.

By now, he had mapped out the beasts’ paths, avoiding danger easily.

He gathered herbs as if pulling weeds, filling a basket larger than his own body. Roots carefully dug, leaves harvested at the right maturity, whole plants when necessary. Many herbs were easily confused—like Shechuangzi (Cnidium seeds) mistaken for wild carrots by the inexperienced.

Most herbalists were elderly, too frail to climb high. They collected only the most accessible plants, selling wild ginseng maybe once in a lifetime.

For Jiang Baiye, making money was inevitable.

He worked until dusk, then hid in a cave without beast tracks.

Night in the mountains was frigid, dangerous. He built a large fire, heating the cave until warm. He could have gone home, herbs enough for eighty or a hundred taels.

But he wanted fresh tea leaves for Lu Lizhi.

The night echoed with wolves and insects, chilling any normal man into terror. Jiang Baiye slept soundly.

At dawn, he stretched and went toward the peak where he’d found ancient tea trees.

The mist was heavy, paths easy to lose. Luckily, he’d marked the way.

Exhausted, he sat, panting. “This mountain is too big.”

Then he remembered, “Oh. But this whole mountain is mine.”

A rabbit and fawn tilted their heads at his muttering.

After resting, he tied a claw-hook to a rope, securing it to a cliffside tree, and began climbing.

Why was he doing this? In the prefectural city, he could buy the best tea. Why risk his life hand-picking and frying tea for Lu Lizhi?

Even if he didn’t like it…

No, he has to like it. I risked my life for this. He scowled, yanking at the tea bushes like stripping them bare.

Ancient wild tea was different from cultivated—grown in clouds and forests, said to absorb heaven and earth’s essence, richer and finer.

Only such tea was worthy of Lu Lizhi…

…

Meanwhile, Lu Lizhi waited all day for him to come practice writing. By nightfall, unease gnawed at him. He guessed Jiang Baiye had gone into the mountains again.

When days passed with no sign of him, Lu Lizhi rushed to his home at dawn, desperate. Seeing his tools gone, dread filled him. He nearly collapsed—until Jiang Baiye, battered and bloodied, suddenly appeared at the door, smiling, asking:

“Were you worried about me, Lu Lizhi?”

…

Later, when Jiang Baiye presented him with hand-picked wild tea, Lu Lizhi brewed it with spring water. One sip struck him to the core, reminding him of rare Dragon Well tea his father once received—but this, somehow, suited him more.

And so, though his heart softened, he punished Jiang Baiye with two hundred more lines.

“Why?” Jiang Baiye gaped.

——If you dare do something this dangerous again, it won’t just be lines next time!

…

From then, as Jiang Baiye began work on the workshop, he caught the attention of Liu Gong, a master craftsman. To everyone’s shock, Jiang Baiye freely shared his ideas for heated brick beds (kang), heated walls, and even floor heating.

“If only the rich use it, it benefits the few. If everyone knows, it benefits all.”

The crowd was stunned. Lu Lizhi, passing by, froze at his proud figure, realizing—Jiang Baiye had this side too.

Footnotes:

1. Shechuangzi (蛇床子, Cnidium seeds) – A traditional Chinese medicinal herb. Easily confused with wild carrot by novices.

2. Kang (炕) – A heated brick bed common in northern China. A flue system runs beneath to keep it warm in winter. Mentioning “heated walls” and “floor heating” shows Jiang Baiye’s advanced ideas.

3. Dragon Well (龙井, Longjing) – One of China’s most famous green teas, prized for its delicate, refreshing flavor.