AGN -Chapter 120 Liang Zhu (Part 6)

Luo Jun’s life in Shu was no different from his life in Shanghai—he didn’t go out, didn’t socialize, and every day he simply sat on the sofa reading novels.

Qin Huai followed him and spent the entire afternoon reading novels as well, noticing that there were fewer gossip-filled domestic dramas and more cultivation and martial arts stories where people resolved conflicts through fighting.

For these different genres, Luo Jun treated them all equally—he read everything. Once he reached the latest serialized chapter, he would go to the study to write letters. The letters he had already written and saved up to send together were stacked nearly a foot thick. It was clear that even without real-time updates, he never missed the chance to comment.

Delayed commentary was still commentary.

Compared to Luo Jun’s unchanged, homebody lifestyle before and after marriage, Liu Tao’s married life was much more varied.

Luo Jun’s household did not employ servants to clean the house; all daily cleaning was handled by Liu Tao. However, there wasn’t much furniture or decoration in the house—mostly newspapers and book cabinets—so Qin Huai suspected they didn’t hire servants to avoid them messing up Luo Jun’s precious newspapers.

All the newspapers in the living room were neatly arranged by publisher and date. To prevent mold, Liu Tao regularly had to take them out into the courtyard to dry in the sun.

Today wasn’t a day for drying newspapers, but Qin Huai overheard Liu Tao telling a child outside to bring more kids over tomorrow to help dry them.

On non-drying days, Liu Tao would sit in the courtyard, bask in the sun, and listen to stories.

Liu Tao was illiterate—she only recognized numbers and dates. It was someone’s ingenious idea to hire a female student to come every afternoon and read novels to her, specifically works by Zhang Henshui.

Unlike the simple interior and cluttered newspapers inside the house, the small courtyard where Liu Tao listened to stories presented a completely different scene.

Large blue stone slabs paved the ground. A frame structure supported climbing vines of morning glories and gourds. In addition, the courtyard was filled with lush plants whose names Qin Huai didn’t know. There was a small tea table with chairs set beside it.

If Qin Luo came here to take photos, the caption would likely read: “Free time with tea—peaceful years.”

Unfortunately, this beautiful courtyard had nothing to do with “peaceful years.” In fact, it was somewhat noisy.

Every afternoon when the reading session began, the courtyard would be full of people—children, young women, and married women. The only thing they had in common was that none of them appeared wealthy.

Those slightly better off wore cotton clothing; others wore coarse linen. Their clothes were all washed until faded, some worn and patched. Still, they all looked clean—clearly they had deliberately washed up and changed into clean clothes before coming.

The female student reading aloud had a very gentle voice with clear pronunciation. Perhaps to help Liu Tao understand, her speech blended local dialect, Wu dialect softness, and traces of standard Mandarin.

Liu Tao followed along quite well, but for the listeners, it was much more difficult. Qin Huai often saw the audience look confused, then when the reader paused to drink water, they would chatter in dialect among themselves, asking whether anyone understood what had just been read.

Although they didn’t fully understand, it didn’t stop them from enjoying it.

Qin Huai understood this feeling—it was like Liu Tao had privately bought the only television in the village. The villagers might not fully grasp what was being broadcast, but that didn’t stop them from loving to watch.

As dusk began to fall, the reading session ended.

The audience who had come to listen thanked Liu Tao in a mix of dialects and soft Wu speech. The books were bought by Luo Jun, the reader was hired by Luo Jun, and they had come empty-handed without bringing gifts. All they could offer were words of blessing.

Books were expensive in those days. The cost of a single novel could sustain a poor household for one or two months. Hiring someone to read aloud was also a significant expense—an entertainment most families could not afford.

After the listeners dispersed, the female student who had been reading remained in the courtyard. Liu Tao went inside to get her payment. When she entered, she noticed Luo Jun wasn’t reading newspapers—he was eating the leftover mian-guo’er from lunch.

“Was it too noisy today?” Liu Tao asked. “If it bothered you, I won’t invite them tomorrow.”

“No,” Luo Jun said indifferently, a hint of melancholy in his tone. “I finished reading.”

Liu Tao chuckled. “You read so fast. It takes me a month to finish one book. With so many newspapers, you finish them in just a few days.”

As she spoke, Liu Tao took two bills from her wallet and walked outside: “I’ll settle the payment with Miss Zhang. After that, we’ll go to Chef Jiang’s place for dinner. I’ve already asked Uncle Liang to buy and deliver the ingredients.”

Luo Jun nodded slightly.

Liu Tao took the money and quickly walked into the courtyard, handing it to Miss Zhang. Miss Zhang accepted it, glanced at it, folded it neatly, and placed it into her pouch close to her body—without any intention of leaving.

“Madam Luo, after I finish reading this book, I’m afraid I won’t be able to continue reading for you,” Miss Zhang said.

Liu Tao was surprised. “Why? Is the pay too low? I’ve checked—it’s very reasonable. Your salary is about half that of a female schoolteacher.”

Miss Zhang shook her head repeatedly. “It’s not about the pay. You and Mr. Luo are very generous to offer me this job—it’s respectable and easy work. The issue is on my side. My father’s business failed, leaving a large debt to loan sharks. In two months, I will be married off to a wealthy man in the Central Plains as his third concubine, and I won’t have the chance to continue reading for you.”

Liu Tao fell silent for a moment. “Your future husband… how old is he?”

“Forty-seven.”

Liu Tao could only sigh softly. After thinking for a moment, she removed the gemstone earring from her right ear and handed it to Miss Zhang.

“According to novels, at a time like this I should give you a book. But the books were purchased by my husband, and all the jewelry I wear was given by him. Only this earring was bought by the troupe leader when I got married to help me present myself properly. It was expensive, so I could only afford one at the time—the other one was later given to me by my husband.”

“I came from a lowly profession as an opera singer, looked down upon all my life. Even after marrying my husband as his lawful wife, the other ladies I played mahjong and watched operas with still looked down on me.”

“When we were in Shanghai, my husband also hired other female students to read novels to me. Some wanted to become his concubines, some came from families hoping to do business with him, some thought I was uncultured and disliked the books I listened to, some advised me to pursue freedom and democracy, and some even urged me to divorce him. But none of them ever stopped to explain the story to me like you do when I couldn’t understand.”

“You, like my husband, are both educated people, and you have never looked down on me.”

“When the troupe leader gave me this earring, he wished me a lifetime of peace, hoping I would never be cast out—and that even if I were, I could sell this jewelry to avoid starving.”

“I give this earring to you as well, and wish you a lifetime of peace.”

Miss Zhang silently accepted the earring and whispered, “Thank you.”

“You will live a peaceful life.”

Miss Zhang left.

Liu Tao turned to go back inside to call Luo Jun, only to find him already standing at the doorway, smiling as he touched her now-empty earlobe.

“I gave the earring to Miss Zhang,” she said.

“Just buy another one,” Luo Jun replied nonchalantly. “Do we need to find someone new to read novels?”

Liu Tao nodded.

“Then find another one. This time, pick someone who’s already married—less trouble.”

“And next time, don’t buy that carrot. It’s terrible. How can something taste that bad?”

“I heard Dr. Chen say carrots are good for the eyes—improves vision.”

“If you want better eyesight, eat a pheasant. It’s much more effective than carrots.”

“What’s a pheasant?”

“A bird called ‘xi’ from the Classic of Mountains and Seas. It looks like a crow with white markings. Pretty useless bird.”

Qin Huai: “……”

Wait—you’ve been insulting plants and spirits, fine—but now you’re insulting your own kind too? And even suggesting it as food?

“Are there any for sale?” Liu Tao, unfamiliar with the Classic of Mountains and Seas, thought it was a cookbook. “Should I have Uncle Liang look for one and buy it to stew soup for you?”

Luo Jun: “……”

“No need,” Luo Jun said stiffly. “I’ll just eat carrots.”