Under the Bamboo Parasol

A few days later, the meeting for scholars would soon commence. All scholars of respectable talent would be going to Duke Ming Xiang's manor to have a few cups of tea, and share their thoughts with peers of the same caliber. It was a relatively safe meeting, considering that Duke Ming Xiang held no actual power in court and was a man who liked to travel most of the year, perhaps only returning once or twice a year. Now that he had returned, he decided to hold a meeting of scholars.

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It was not that everyone knew of the matter, only the scholars of various institutions got wind of this matter, and made sure not to tell outsiders.

Such secrets were nothing to Lin Qinghui, who had access to all channels of information.

Tonight he would go to the meeting of scholars.

This night, he changed his clothes and dressed as a scholar his face was also changed as he no longer resembled Lin Qinghiu anymore, instead, there was a man with pale skin and a face that could easily blend anywhere that stood in his place. The only thing that could never be changed was the eyes that were bright as the stars itself, seemingly able to search a person's soul.

Lin Qinghui waited until he could not hear any footsteps before he disappeared into the night.

Arriving shortly at Duke Ming Xiang's manor, just before the doors opened. The scholars congregated around the front of the manor, organizing themselves in small groups, talking to each other about the current political status of the state. It was as though at that moment they had no fears of what may happen to them as they spoke out, a strange yet unforeseen world that may only exist in the future.

Lin Qinghui let out a slight smile as he gazed upon them, seemingly entranced by their conversation.

As he listened, he carefully took a few steps closer, wanting to listen more, having been entranced by what they were speaking of.

That was until he felt a sudden tap on his shoulders. Turning around calmly, he was met with the face of a smiling scholar dressed in pale yellow robes. The robes were made with a fine mulberry thread, with the embroidery of bamboo leaves stitched at the hem. This entire getup gave him the air of a scholar, even being next to him would cause a person to smell the scent of recently ground ink.

Lin Qinghui did not speak first, so the man could only whip out his fan and say, "Hello dear friend, my name is Han Louyang, a student of the imperial academy, I have never seen you around here, and I've been to every gathering, yet I wonder why I have never seen your face before." The man asked questionably and produced a stretched smile, grandly fanning himself many times to not seem so awkward.

Lin Qinghui could not even begin to wonder how he caught the attention of this person who seemed to be filled with suspicion. Perhaps one day this man would be a high ranking official in the court, as of now, he was merely a scholar attending a meeting of scholars. Nothing too important.

"My name is Qing Hui, a scholar of Huang Quan Academy in the southern provinces, I have just arrived." Lin Qinghui said calmly and collectively.

Han Louyang clasped his fan closed, and used it to massage his back, "Huang Quan Academy, never heard of it before, southern provinces did you say?"

"Though you may not have heard of it does not mean other people have not, perhaps you should look for your friends and talk to them, perhaps they wouldn't have heard of such a small academy with barely more than thirty people, it was pleasant to meet you scholar Han." Lin Qinghui cupped his hand in a farewell manner as he walked away.

"You too scholar Qing. May fate allow us to meet again." Han Louyang did the same as the departing man walked into the crowd, blending seamlessly in.

"May fate allow us to meet again." Lin Qinghui said as he raised his hands in a dismissive manner. He could not help but give a smile.

This meeting was giving him an excitement that he never felt before. Perhaps it was that he had something to look forward to or the meeting of flesh and blood for the first time since he had ever been alive.

Seeing a person etched unmovingly on a piece of paper was one thing, while the reality conveyed so much more than the emotion of the person painting it.

He truly wanted to see what this so-called father of his truly looked like in person, and would he have an undeniable connection when he saw him, or would it be the same as every other person he has seen.