Chapter 0134: Ancient’s Agile Leap, Su Qinghe’s Nosebleed Cascade

Jingcheng.

Ancient never expected to receive a letter from the Second Prince.

Spreading open the letter, he stroked his beard and cast his gaze upon it, only to be startled into an agile backward leap by the wild, claw-like scribbles covering the paper!

What was this?!

Could it be some kind of curse talisman?!

Narrowing his eyes cautiously for a closer look, Ancient finally discerned that these were actually written characters—just exceptionally poorly penned.

Well, not just poorly—they were utterly atrocious.

Letting out a slight sigh of relief, Ancient picked up the letter and began reading.

[“Ancient… I am in such misery! I am filled with such resentment! My heart is bleeding, my flesh is rotting, my soul is withering, my convictions are crumbling…”]

“What kind of nonsense is this?”

The frenzied handwriting and content made Ancient furrow his graying brows as he leaned closer to continue reading.

[“Ah! When will the nation prosper? I raise my cup to the blue heavens! Does Heaven know what year it is now? I wished to get rich through ice sculptures, yet skilled craftsmen look down on me everywhere. Crying torrents of tears, I wish to die right here on earth!

My heart grows cold, tears flow, sleep eludes me at night. I shouldn’t harbor hatred, but the people’s pockets are empty! The ice sculpture project delays again and again, the northern lands grow poorer and poorer, this matter truly seems impossible. I only hope Ancient will come and back me up!

P.S.: I’m craving Qinghe’s pastries, please bring some Ancient, or I’ll hang myself at the Ministry of Works’ entrance when I return 🙂

Come quickly come quickly come quickly!!!!!!”]

Ancient: …

Madman!

If he wanted help in Liaozhou, why not just say so directly? What was the point of writing all this drivel?

Ancient could already picture the red-clad youth prostrate on the ground, clutching his leg while weeping copiously, lamenting the discrimination and grievances suffered in Liaozhou.

He quickly shook his head, dispelling the horrifying mental image.

This was utterly unbefitting of a prince!

Still, what exactly were these ice sculptures?

Objects carved from ice?

Curious about how such things could bring prosperity, and wondering what the Second Prince truly intended—especially since the letter provided no elaboration—Ancient began considering a trip to Liaozhou to see for himself.

With heated kang beds now widespread in Jingcheng and his supervision temporarily unnecessary, a journey to Liaozhou to investigate these ice sculptures seemed feasible.

Ancient made decisions swiftly. He immediately prepared to pack his belongings for the trip to Liaozhou. Just before leaving, he suddenly remembered the Second Prince’s additional request.

What was it again?

Recalling the letter, oh right—he was supposed to bring Su Qinghe along.

…

The day Su Qinghe arrived at the Directorate of Celestial Observation was utterly ordinary.

The officials assumed he was merely a newly appointed administrator and paid him little mind. Based on past experience, newcomers to the Directorate typically had numerous questions requiring answers, so they prepared themselves to patiently address his inquiries.

Unexpectedly, several days passed without the newcomer speaking a word. He was often nowhere to be seen, let alone asking questions.

It wasn’t until the sixth day that this mysterious newcomer finally began moving about the outer hall, searching for required texts before settling at a wooden desk on that level, immersed in reading and calculations.

Quiet and composed, he remained focused within his own world like an uncut piece of jade, compelling unobtrusive observation.

Finally, someone couldn’t sit still anymore. Pretending to pass by, they deliberately stole a glance, only to see the white-robed youth’s calculation papers densely covered in characters that were completely incomprehensible.

Had Ti Ling brought back a fool? Even if the Directorate of Celestial Observation was short-staffed, they couldn’t just bring back anyone, could they?

The Directorate of Celestial Observation was surely in peril!

Soon, the rumor that Su Qinghe was a fool spread throughout the entire Directorate. Someone couldn’t resist going to Guo Tianheng to mention the matter, but Guo Tianheng simply waved his hand and said, “Don’t bother with him.”

Such blatant favoritism immediately filled the Directorate with discontent.

Su Qinghe naturally sensed the dissatisfaction the Directorate’s officials felt toward him. Their gazes were just like those from the Su residence—dismissive, displeased, and disapproving. Fortunately, he had grown accustomed to such looks and no longer allowed external distractions to affect him, immersing himself fully in his calculations.

He couldn’t embarrass the Second Prince.

He needed to earn Guo Tianheng’s approval, as well as Gu Lao’s. When the Second Prince came for him, he had to be capable of assisting him.

He needed to work even harder.

Meanwhile, the officials’ dissatisfaction with Su Qinghe continued to accumulate. Within the Directorate, Su Qinghe was far too unconventional and peculiar—he didn’t socialize, didn’t participate in stargazing, and was nowhere to be seen during the day. Even when it came to taking turns clearing the heavy snow in front of the tower, Su Qinghe was never assigned.

Just as the officials’ frustration was about to boil over, an incident suddenly changed Su Qinghe’s standing within the Directorate.

One official had been trying to complete a precise water clock diagram drawn by a great master from the previous dynasty. All the components were ready, but dozens of assembly attempts had ended in failure.

While searching for books, Su Qinghe happened to see this official sitting at a desk, secretly wiping away tears of frustration. He stood silently behind, observing the blueprint and components on the table, already constructing a spatial diagram in his mind.

Though he dedicated himself to studying arithmetic diligently every day at the Directorate, he had never neglected his work at the Ministry of Works. After moving water each day, he would follow Gu Lao to observe and learn. Gu Lao was never stingy with his teachings, so Su Qinghe had also gained considerable knowledge in component assembly.

He realized that the blueprint was incomplete.

Recalling the instructional texts Xie Chengze had given Guo Tianheng before leaving—which contained formulas and arithmetic problems related to circles—Su Qinghe performed calculations that very day and derived the replacement parts and additional components needed.

He went to the Ministry of Works to have Gu Lao craft the parts, then sought out the official and assembled the water clock.

With that, he astonished everyone in a single stroke.

At that moment, the officials finally realized that Guo Tianheng’s eyes were not blind—the Directorate of Celestial Observation had gained a genius!

Gradually, people began approaching Su Qinghe with arithmetic questions. Su Qinghe would always say he needed time to think, and after two days of contemplation, just when everyone had given up hope, he would slowly approach with his calculation papers, dark circles under his eyes, and begin explaining the solutions.

His methods were remarkably innovative, almost like a different approach to arithmetic, and the officials benefited greatly. Their attitudes gradually shifted, and their gazes toward Su Qinghe grew increasingly appreciative and respectful.

At the Ministry of Works, Su Qinghe also earned recognition. His almost suffocating perfectionism and unparalleled dexterity allowed him to achieve a level of precision in crafting objects that even seasoned veterans couldn’t match. Coupled with his arithmetic skills, the officials at the Ministry of Works also praised him incessantly.

No longer surrounded by scorn, disdain, and contempt, he found himself increasingly admired, respected, and appreciated.

Everyone praised him as a genius.

In the past, only someone like his elder brother would be called a genius.

Could someone like him truly be called a genius?

But if he was a genius…

Why did the Second Prince never come to see him?

Was he not diligent enough, not outstanding enough, failing to meet the Second Prince’s expectations?

Late at night, when all was quiet, Su Qinghe would gently trace his fingers over the arithmetic manuscripts sent by Xie Chengze, his eyes downcast with melancholy as he recalled the blazing intensity and hopeful gaze of that person.

The Directorate of Celestial Observation was isolated from news, and it had been a long time since he had heard anything about the Second Prince. He dared not ask Gu Lao or Ti Ling Guo, afraid that he might learn from them that the Second Prince was dissatisfied with him.

Su Qinghe pushed himself even harder, studying those abstruse texts almost to the point of forgetting to eat and sleep. From arithmetic to astronomy, from geomancy to the art of yin and yang, he absorbed these subjects day and night. The dark circles under his eyes grew deeper, the bloodshot veins in his eyes multiplied, until one day…

Two streams of hot blood flowed from his nostrils, and he finally collapsed.

When he awoke again, he was already in a carriage heading to Liaozhou.