Chapter 50: The Troupe (Please Continue Reading)

Day of the Ten-Day Rest.

Early in the morning, Chen Ping sat upright at his desk, locked in a fierce battle with his books. The futile effort of making cement a few days ago had wasted a good deal of time, and he needed to make it up quickly.

He Qingxuan was deeply engrossed in an ancient mathematics text, one that had been acquired from somewhere unknown. He pondered over it intently, scribbling calculations here and there, occasionally scratching his head in confusion, completely absorbed in his studies.

Only Ye Chongwen was the child unwilling to apply himself on this rare day of rest. Instead of enjoying the break, he felt lost without playmates.

Glancing at the two who were so focused, Ye Chongwen rolled his eyes and whispered next to Chen Ping.

“Do you still remember that teahouse we went to last time...?”

Before he could finish, Chen Ping already knew he couldn’t sit still any longer and wanted to go out to play again.

So he tossed aside his book and turned to He Qingxuan, saying, “Why keep reading? Chongwen wants to go to the teahouse to guess riddles. Are you coming or not?”

Caught in his little scheme, Ye Chongwen didn’t mind at all and even spoke louder with confidence.

“Exactly! We’re not horses or carriages. On a rare day off, reading books isn’t relaxing at all; it just wears you out.”

“We should balance work and rest. I think listening to stories and guessing riddles at the teahouse sounds just perfect.”

He Qingxuan didn’t refuse Ye Chongwen’s encouragement.

After all, having been cooped up in the academy for so many days, he was feeling the strain too.

Play and fun were the nature of children, and just because He Qingxuan was four years older didn’t mean he could sit still any better.

The three quickly agreed and set off together into the streets.

He Qingxuan looked at Ye Chongwen’s eager expression and laughed, “Looks like Chongwen’s changed his tune; he hasn’t mentioned the storybooks even once today.”

“Who knows if the newest storybooks at the bookstore have sold out already?” Ye Chongwen, who had been focused on the teahouse riddles, suddenly grew anxious.

Riddles could be guessed anytime, but storybooks were hard to come by!

Popular storybooks were snapped up immediately upon release. Regular customers familiar with the shopkeeper could reserve a few copies in advance, but kids like them, arriving late, could only watch and wait for the next batch.

Thinking of this, Ye Chongwen jumped up and shouted, “Right, right! Let’s go to the bookstore first to buy storybooks, then head to the teahouse. The day’s still early; it won’t take long!”

He looked at He Qingxuan pitifully, afraid he might refuse. Without storybooks, the day would drag endlessly.

He Qingxuan arrogantly lifted his chin and snorted coldly, pretending to be difficult, acting as if things couldn’t go their way. It made Ye Chongwen itch with frustration.

So, Ye Chongwen had no choice but to look to Chen Ping for help.

“Good brother, help me persuade him. The storybooks at the bookstore are almost sold out!”

Chen Ping cleared his throat mysteriously and, turning toward the teahouse, smiled, “I’m more interested in the riddles at the teahouse. Storybooks are just children’s playthings.”

Chen Ping and He Qingxuan exchanged glances, seeing the teasing spark in each other’s eyes.

He Qingxuan looked ahead and spotted a vendor hawking candied hawthorns, then said casually, “Going to the bookstore first isn't impossible, but it’s a bit of a walk and might get boring.”

Chen Ping winked and took up the thread, smiling, “Boring is one thing, but without something to munch on, it’s just not satisfying.”

“For example, if we had a stick of candied hawthorn, a few extra steps wouldn’t matter.”

Hearing this, Ye Chongwen grinned, catching the hint immediately.

Though he knew they were deliberately teasing him as payback for mocking his cement-making, he decided to play along. To hurry to the bookstore, he dashed to the vendor and returned in a flash with three sticks of candied hawthorn.

“Delicious!”

“So sweet!”

Chen Ping and He Qingxuan praised the treats while keeping pace with Ye Chongwen’s hurried steps toward the bookstore.

When the candied hawthorns were finished, Chen Ping suddenly seemed to remember something and said, “Almost forgot, I’m running low on paper and ink. I planned to go to the bookstore today anyway. Thanks for reminding me, or I might have forgotten.”

Ye Chongwen, walking at the front, stopped abruptly with a look of grievance and helplessness.

Chen Ping shook a small wooden stick in his hand and said playfully, “Cheapskate, here you go. There’s still some sugar residue on it; don’t waste it, just lick it off.”

“Also, watch out, don’t poke anyone with it.”

Ye Chongwen looked as though Chen Ping had stabbed him with the stick, his face turning red with anger. He snorted coldly and turned away.

He Qingxuan struck while the iron was hot.

He also shook his wooden stick apologetically, adding, “Actually, I’m out of paper and ink too. I was planning to go to the bookstore today as well.”

Ye Chongwen stared at his two friends in disbelief, trembling with silent frustration, feeling as if the whole world had lost its color.

Why was he always the one getting hurt?

Fortunately, when the three arrived at the bookstore, they found the newest storybooks had not yet sold out.

Had they been teased so much only to fail at buying the latest storybook, Ye Chongwen might have burst into tears right there.

Seeing the storybooks, Ye Chongwen immediately cast all unpleasantness aside.

With lightning-fast reflexes, he became a blur, grabbing the last copy under the astonished gaze of the shopkeeper and clutching it tightly to his chest.

If not for Ye Chongwen being a regular customer well known to the shopkeeper, the clerk might have nearly tackled him to the ground.

Dealing with such a young troublemaker required no call for the city patrol.

Each took what they needed, then left the bookstore satisfied, heading toward the teahouse.

Guessing riddles at the teahouse was truly one of the most entertaining things in Qingsong Town.

As they walked enthusiastically forward, suddenly the street ahead erupted with the sounds of drums and gongs.

“Bang, bang, bang...”

Accompanied by the crashing sound of cymbals, the crowd on the street was drawn in.

Chen Ping looked puzzled, but Ye Chongwen jumped up excitedly, shouting, “Quick, quick! It’s street performers!”

He grabbed Chen Ping and He Qingxuan’s hands and pushed forward desperately, eager to catch a glimpse of the troupe’s performance.

Qingsong Town was such a small place; people weren’t lavish with their spending. It was rare for a troupe of performers to come by.

Chen Ping naturally knew what a street performing troupe was; in his previous life, he had watched many varied acts on television.

But he wasn’t particularly interested in the performances of this world.

After all, in ancient times, acting troupes and performing groups were considered lowly trades, often dens of vice.

Respectable families, if they had any way to make a living, wouldn’t enter such professions, wandering across mountains and rivers with uncertain incomes, sometimes not returning home for years.

However, seeing Ye Chongwen’s enthusiasm, Chen Ping didn’t want to spoil the fun and followed along, squeezing forward with the crowd.

Luckily, the three arrived early and, being not very tall, managed to weave through the crowd swiftly to the front.

Before they could even steady themselves, a thunderous cheer erupted beside them.