My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

Just as A Luo was about to drink her tea, she suddenly felt someone tug at the corner of her clothes.

She looked down and saw a chubby little baby who had somehow crawled under the table.

He was squatting at her feet, his pigtails sticking up high, his red bellyband covered in dirt, and his two dark eyes staring intently at the teapot on the table.

"A doll?" A'Luo was taken aback. "When did you get here?"

The chubby baby didn't answer; his eyes were still glued to the teapot.

The aroma of tea wafted from the spout, wafting into his nose and making his throat bob.

He swallowed hard and asked in a low voice, "Um... is it good?"

Seeing his greedy look, A Luo couldn't help but laugh and poured him a cup of tea.

The chubby baby held the cup in both hands; the cup was bigger than his face, and he had to tilt his head back to drink from it.

His eyes lit up as soon as the tea touched his lips. He gulped it down in a few mouthfuls, shoved the cup into A Luo's hand, wiped his mouth, and said, "I want more."

Aro poured him another glass.

This time he drank slowly, taking small sips, squinting his eyes, and smacking his lips, adopting the posture of someone savoring tea.

Lu Yang, watching from the opposite side, chuckled: "This little thing knows how to enjoy life."

The chubby baby ignored him and looked around with his cup in hand.

There was a rocking chair next to the table, but it was empty.

He walked over, tiptoed and started to climb up, but after a couple of attempts he couldn't make it, his bottom sticking out in the air.

Miao Gui reached out and lifted him up, then put him in a chair.

The chubby baby sank into the wicker chair back, completely buried, with only his head and two feet showing.

He shifted his position, found a comfortable one, put one leg on the armrest, and crossed the other leg, doing a very proper cross-legged pose.

He held a teacup in his left hand, rested his right hand on the armrest, and twitched his thumb back and forth.

A Luo burst out laughing when she saw his expression.

Lü Yang laughed so hard he slapped his thigh: "Look at him, look at him, he acts like an old man!"

Miao Gui laughed too: "This isn't an old man, this is a rich landlord."

The chubby baby ignored them, squinted, tilted his head back, and leisurely rocked his chair.

The chair creaked and groaned. He took a sip of tea, swayed slightly, took another sip of tea, and swayed again.

A little tea spilled from the rim of the cup, running down his chin and dripping onto his red undergarment, but he didn't care.

After Lü Yang finished laughing, he moved closer, squatted down next to the chair, and poked the boy's belly with his finger: "Little thing, who taught you that?"

The chubby child brushed his hand away, looking very serious: "I can do it myself."

Lu Yang poked him again: "You know nothing."

The chubby boy glared at him, put his legs off the armrest, sat up straight, held his cup, sipped his tea, and deliberately ignored him.

Lu Yang was amused by his appearance and reached out to pinch his cheek. The chubby boy tilted his head to avoid it, and some tea spilled out of the cup, splashing onto the back of Lu Yang's hand.

"Ouch!" Lü Yang shook his hand. "You little rascal—"

The chubby baby glanced at him and said slowly, "Is it hot? No, it's not hot. I don't even feel hot, so why are you yelling?"

Lü Yang choked.

Miao Gui was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up straight.

A Luo smiled and shook her head, then took a cloth to wipe the tea stains off the chubby baby's bib.

The chubby baby let her wipe him, took another sip from his cup, let out a long sigh, leaned back in his chair, squinted, and looked at the jujube tree above his head.

The shadow of the jujube tree fell on his face, swaying back and forth.

The aroma of tea, dates, and the fresh scent emanating from the small tea tree mingled together, drifting slowly in the wind.

The chubby baby sniffed, feeling that he had never felt so comfortable in his entire life—no, in his entire life.

The commotion in the yard reached the house.

Zhou Yan lay in bed, unable to fall asleep.

It's not that I can't sleep, it's that I don't want to sleep.

Sunlight streamed through the window paper, casting a pale yellow square on the wall.

He heard people laughing outside. There was Lü Yang's voice, Miao Gui's voice, A Luo's voice, and a delicate, tender voice that he had never heard before.

He slowly sat up; the wound still hurt, but it was much better than a few days ago.

He moved to the window, used his fingers to pry open a corner of the window paper, and looked outside.

The sunlight was so bright that he squinted.

A new table has appeared in the yard, made of woven vines and covered with leaves.

There were several chairs on the table, also made of woven vines.

He remembered that these things weren't in the yard yesterday; perhaps they were added this morning.

A branch of the jujube tree by the wall stretched out, just enough to cover the top of the table. The branch was laden with jujubes, red and white, weighing down the branches.

But he remembered that the jujube tree was bare yesterday.

Could it be that I remembered it wrong?

He began to doubt his own memory.

After all, he was injured, and perhaps his memory is having some problems.

It's impossible that these dates just grew.

That's impossible.

He held a high position and had met some great people, but he had never seen anyone who could make trees defy the seasons and directly bear fruit.

Therefore, I must have remembered it wrong.

A young Taoist priest sat at the table, wearing a gray-blue robe, holding a teacup, leaning back in his chair, swaying slowly.

The chair was also made of vines, swaying back and forth. The Taoist priest squinted at the jujube tree above his head, a slight smile on his lips.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves, falling on him in dappled patterns, like a painting.

Zhou Yan had met many Taoist priests in Lizhou Prefecture.

When the Taoist priests came to the Marquis's residence as guests, they wore brocade Taoist robes, white jade crowns, and carried sandalwood whisks.

When they speak, they quote classical texts; when they drink tea, they smell it before tasting it; when they walk, they keep their eyes straight ahead, upright and proper, like clay bodhisattvas in a temple.

But this Taoist priest is different.

He sat in that wobbly chair, drinking tea casually, and laughing casually as well.

But as he sat there, it was as if he had grown up with the courtyard, the jujube tree, and the sky above him.

When you look at him, you feel a sense of peace and tranquility, and all your worries disappear.

Zhou Yan thought back on his life over the years.

When I was in Lizhou Prefecture, I spent every day scheming—scheming against my political enemies, scheming against my subordinates, and scheming about when the emperor would notice me.

The people around him smiled at him, not because he was Zhou Yan, but because he was Marquis Anyuan.

He thought he was used to it, but looking at the Taoist priest sunbathing, he suddenly felt that he had never sat like this before.

I don't want to think about anything, I don't want to do anything, I just bask in the sun and drink tea.

But reality doesn't allow me to relax like that!

He doesn't yet know if the enemy is approaching, and he doesn't know much about the situation in the Ten Thousand Mountains.

But one thing is certain: if those troops find him in the village, they will surely slaughter the entire village.

A'Luo and the others are all good people; he can't put them in danger for no reason.

He plans to rest for two days and then leave.

And perhaps it was due to the local landscape, but his injuries healed very quickly, within two days, and wouldn't significantly affect his mobility.

In the courtyard, the chubby baby finished his third cup of tea, put the cup on the table, and let out a long sigh of relief.