Chapter 40: Descendants of Heroes

Chapter 40: Descendant of a Hero

"Lin Dongze, Lin Dongze."

Someone was calling out. They sounded quite urgent. Shortly after, a voice replied, using the rare Minzhou dialect. The speaker sounded young.

Qin Yuan looked over with curiosity. It was a tall, thin young man in his twenties.

*Huh, he looks a bit like someone I know.*

"Brother Lin, I’ve finally found you! Several students have complained to the libationer again, saying they can't understand a word you say. The libationer told me to inform you: if you still haven't mastered the official dialect within half a month, you can stop being an assistant instructor."

The man who had called out scolded the young man for a moment before walking away.

*Lin Dongze!!!*

The name struck like lightning across a night sky. Qin Yuan remembered now. Song Yufu had mentioned that Lin Dongze, the son of Lin Yidong, would be coming to the capital. No wonder he looked like Lin Yidong.

Qin Yuan walked over, searching for a book while observing him. Nineteen years had passed; the child he had once rescued from a den of beggars had grown from a tiny boy into a man.

Lin Dongze looked up, offered Qin Yuan a smile, and then lowered his head to continue reading.

"Are you the new assistant instructor?" Qin Yuan asked.

"Yes," Lin Dongze replied. He looked up again, studied Qin Yuan for a moment, and then added, "You don't seem to be an instructor at the Imperial Academy."

"I am a recorder at the Office of the Left Historian. I occasionally come here to read."

There weren't many places in the capital with a large collection of miscellaneous books, and the Tianlu Pavilion at the Imperial Academy was one of them. Qin Yuan had been coming here for several years. His "occasionally" meant once every few months—which was a bit different from how most people defined the word.

"You are a court historian? One who records words and deeds?" Lin Dongze’s eyes widened. Thinking of something, he hesitated, then probed, "You must have encountered many famous people, then?"

"In the last twenty years, I have met most of those who have left their mark in the history books," Qin Yuan said. Knowing who Lin Dongze wanted to ask about, he continued directly, "There was a man with your surname, Lin Yidong, who left the deepest impression on me."

"Lin Yidong..." Lin Dongze’s breathing grew shallow. He was still too young to hide his emotions.

"You also share the surname Lin and speak the Minzhou dialect. Could you be his son?" Qin Yuan asked deliberately.

"Lin Yidong is indeed my father," Lin Dongze replied. There was nothing to deny. The dynasty had changed, and with the internal chaos within the rebel factions, his father’s rebellion was already a thing of the past.

"A hero’s son, indeed."

Qin Yuan’s comment left Lin Dongze stunned. "Why would you say that, Recorder?"

"Last year, didn't the demon that brought chaos to Minzhou die by your hand?"

Qin Yuan had heard this in the Eight Great Alleys. They said a young man named Lin Dongze from Minzhou had borrowed the spirit and energy of those around him to defeat a demon. Everyone treated it as a joke, but Qin Yuan did not think so. The world was full of wonders; it was entirely possible that Lin Dongze possessed some extraordinary methods.

"You know about that?" Lin Dongze was surprised. He had only chased away a minor demon, using the common methods of channeling faith that had emerged in recent years among Buddhist and Taoist Western sects.

"I am a court historian who records words and deeds; there is nothing I do not know," Qin Yuan said with confidence.

"There is something you couldn't possibly know," Lin Dongze shook his head, a look of reminiscence flashing across his face. Although much time had passed, the image of that golden-skinned man and the words he had spoken remained etched in his mind. "When I was a child, I fell into the hands of the Beggar Sect and was saved by a man with golden skin."

"A man with golden skin?" Qin Yuan feigned surprise.

"I suspect my benefactor practiced the same martial art as my father: the Indestructible Vajra Divine Art," Lin Dongze said, his expression dimming. "The Indestructible Vajra Divine Art is extremely taxing on one's lifespan. After all these years, it is very likely that my benefactor has already passed away."

"That is a great pity," Qin Yuan said, pretending to be regretful.

After a while, Lin Dongze asked, "Recorder, is the Office of the Left Historian short of staff?"

"Are you unhappy here?" Qin Yuan asked, knowing the answer.

"Yes," Lin Dongze nodded. "I am not very good at speaking the official dialect."

"Not being able to speak the official dialect is indeed a problem." Qin Yuan had pulled strings to get Li Shoumin into the Office of the Left Historian, but he still had standards. At the very least, Li Shoumin spoke the official dialect fluently.

"Oh." Lin Dongze felt dejected, assuming Qin Yuan was refusing him.

"You can learn the official dialect slowly. The fact that you managed to become an assistant instructor shows that you are a capable learner," Qin Yuan laughed.

Lin Dongze thought he had misheard and confirmed, "You... you agree?"

Qin Yuan nodded. Helping a junior when he had nothing better to do—why else would a life as long as his be worth living? Perhaps there would even be some unexpected rewards.

Lin Dongze immediately brightened and became quite talkative. Qin Yuan then learned that Lin Dongze had a fellow townsman who was an official at the Imperial Academy.

"Wait a moment," Qin Yuan looked at Lin Dongze in surprise. "What office did you say your fellow townsman holds?"

"He is a direct scholar in charge of money and grain, surnamed Yun." Lin Dongze became nervous, fearing Qin Yuan might have a grudge against his friend.

Qin Yuan smiled. He happened to know this man surnamed Yun.

"You know the direct scholar Yun?" the anxious Lin Dongze asked.

"Yes."

"Brother Lin!" A young lady ran in. Seeing an outsider, her radiant smile vanished, and she lowered her head.

"This is the daughter of Direct Scholar Yun," Lin Dongze said, his face showing the same awkwardness as Li Shoumin’s.

Clearly, it was another pair of young lovers. They were luckier, though; the girl’s family did not object, otherwise, she wouldn't be coming to see him so openly.

"So, it is Miss Yun. I am a recorder from the Office of the Left Historian. My surname is Qin," Qin Yuan introduced himself, observing the young lady. She had a small, round face and picturesque features—much prettier than Miss Sun, though with a bit of baby fat.

"Greetings, Recorder Qin," Miss Yun curtsied politely, then shot a glance at Lin Dongze, as if she had something to say.

"You two talk," Qin Yuan said, tactfully taking his leave.

Once Qin Yuan had disappeared into the depths of the bookshelves, Miss Yun whispered, "Master Zhao is at my house now."

"Master Zhao has returned?" Lin Dongze bolted toward the exit. He hadn't gone far before he turned back, calling out toward the bookshelves: "Recorder Qin, I have an urgent matter and must return at once. When would it be appropriate for me to come to the Office of the Left Historian?"

"Anytime is fine."

"Then I shall come tomorrow. I must go!"

"Yes."

After Lin Dongze and Miss Yun left, Qin Yuan emerged from behind the bookshelf. He stroked his meticulously groomed beard.

*Who is Master Zhao?*