Governing the country, enriching the people, an unparalleled imperial tutor

Lin Yanzhou opened his eyes as night seeped in through the cracks in the window.

The lingering sensation of being instantly compressed and then released during his transmigration still lingered in his chest. He took a few breaths before sitting up. His travel bag lay beside his calves. He reached for his phone—the screen was cold and silent; there was no signal in this world. He got up, placed the bag at the foot of the bed, and stepped barefoot onto the cool, blue brick floor.

The door to the side hall was ajar, letting in a faint sliver of light through the crack. He didn't push it open immediately. No one should have lived in this side hall during the three months he was gone, but the floor was clean, and a half-burnt candle remained in the bronze cup on the low table. The wick had been trimmed, indicating that someone came every few days to replace it with a new one, waiting for his possible return.

He walked to the door, and just as his hand touched the lintel, the door was pushed open from the outside.

Lin Xiaoyu stood outside the door, holding an oil lamp in her hand. She was dressed in a dark-colored dress, her hair casually tied up with a wooden hairpin, as if she had just crawled out of bed and thrown on an outer garment. The light from the oil lamp flickered across her face, illuminating the lingering drowsiness in her eyes, but the moment she saw him, that drowsiness vanished as if licked by a flame, instantly transforming into a bright, awake light.

She didn't call out, but softly said, "Grand Preceptor, you're back," then turned and walked quickly in another direction down the corridor. Her footsteps were light and hurried, as if afraid of missing something if she slowed down. Lin Yanzhou stood in the doorway and saw her turn a corner along the corridor, push open the door to the west wing, where a lamp lit up, followed by another series of even more hurried footsteps.

Before long, Lin Xiaolan arrived.

She was dressed more neatly than Xiaoyu; her hair was tidy, and her clothes were buttoned up properly. She was carrying a copper basin with a cotton towel draped over the rim, and the water was still steaming slightly. While Xiaoyu went to call her, she had casually boiled a kettle of water. Xiaoyu followed behind, carrying a set of clean clothes for a change of clothes.

The two stood under the eaves, their shadows long cast by the oil lamp. Xiaolan entered the side hall first, placed the copper basin on the low table, tested the water temperature, and stepped back half a step. Xiaoyu followed, placed the clothes at the foot of the bed, and also stepped back to stand beside her sister. The two stood side by side, like two new bamboo shoots with intertwined roots.

Xiaolan handed him a hot towel. Xiaoyu took it and draped her coat over the screen. Lin Yanzhou sat on the edge of the bed and wiped his face; the water temperature was just right, neither too hot nor too cold. Xiaoyu knelt down and took off his boots for him.

"Do you come here every night?" Lin Yanzhou asked.

Xiaoyu lowered her head and folded his coat, her voice muffled by the fabric: "My sister and I take turns keeping watch at night. Every night, we change the lamp in the side hall, and we don't let it go out when the Grand Preceptor isn't around."

Lin Yanzhou didn't ask any more questions. He raised his hand and touched Xiaolan's fingertips. She stopped, then leaned down. Her fingertips slowly slid down the line of his nape, stopping at the edge of his shoulder blade.

Xiaoyu leaned closer from the other side, her shoulder touching his. The moment her body touched his, she radiated warmth. Her breath brushed against his neck, like a lamp gently swaying in the night breeze, yet never extinguishing. Xiaolan's hand slid from his shoulder blade to his waist, her thumb pressing against the hollows on either side of his spine, slowly massaging downwards with steady, even pressure. At the edge of his hairline at the back of his neck, there was a taut muscle nodule. Starting with the lightest pressure, she probed further, and sensing a change in his breathing rhythm, she gradually increased the pressure, pushing away the muscle layer by layer.

Since that mineral crystal entered his brain, his body seemed to have been recalibrated. The back injury and old knee problems he had from working on construction sites had long since stopped flaring up, and his energy was more abundant than he himself had ever imagined. This feeling was particularly vivid at this moment—his body was full, as if something was flowing continuously and steadily under his skin, requiring neither rest nor replenishment.

Xiaoyu's fingers slipped inside the edge of his shirt, her fingertips slightly cool. They landed on the center of his abdomen, recoiling as if burned, then returned to his hand, slowly unfolding, her palm pausing briefly on that spot. Her hands were small, just enough to cover that small area, slightly damp with sweat between her fingers, the warmth transferring from her palm to his skin. Xiaolan moved closer from the other side, her fingers tracing from his waist to his abdomen, lightly touching and releasing, her fingertips tracing a faint line along the edge of his abdominal muscles, like drawing a mark. When she withdrew her hand, her fingertips still carried the lingering warmth of his skin.

"You don't need to call me Imperial Advisor, just call me 'Husband'! Come on, let me see how much you've improved. Who wants to go first? Husband will give you a reward later!"

The night breeze swept through the corridor, lifting and lowering the copper bells on the eaves. There were no lights in the side hall; the only source of light was the oil lamp that Xiaoyu had placed by the threshold, casting a narrow strip of warm light through the crack in the door, which fell just into the gap between the three pairs of shoes at the foot of the bed.

As dawn broke, the curtains were lifted slightly by the wind, and morning light streamed through the gap onto Xiao Lan's shoulder. She lay face down, her face turned towards the pillow, her breathing even and deep, her fingers still resting on his wrist, not letting go. Xiao Yu curled up on the other side, her forehead against his shoulder, her hair cascading over his arm, her knuckles gently holding his little finger, as if afraid he would leave in the middle of the night.

Xiaolan woke up first and went to the corridor to fetch another basin of hot water. Xiaoyu also woke up when she got up, rubbed her eyes, took the basin of water, placed it on the low table, wrung out a hot towel, and handed it to her.

Lin Yanzhou took the cotton towel and wiped his face. Xiaolan stood behind him and draped a coat over his shoulders, her fingertips pausing briefly on his shoulder before she withdrew them. Xiaoyu handed over the other folded clothes and then took out the tube of moisturizing cream Lin Yanzhou had given her the night before from her sleeve pocket, squeezing a little onto the back of her hand and rubbing it to test its texture.

Xiaolan also turned her head to look at the white tube, reached out and took it, flipped it over: "Honey, I want one too."

"Alright, Xiaoyu was better at talking than you last night, so I'm rewarding her. As for you, here's a bar of soap as a reward. Keep up the good work in the future."