Legendary Son-in-Law: The Man with Poison Talismans

Seeing Gu An's hesitant expression, Lin Mu said nonchalantly, "It's alright, just say what you want to say."

Gu An cupped his hands and said, “Brother Lin, please don’t be offended. In my Mafa Empire, the status of a son-in-law is extremely low, even lower than that of a merchant. He would never be allowed to enter the imperial court. Not to mention the Hanlin Academy, he cannot even become a minor official in the local government. It’s a pity that you have such talent, Brother Lin.”

Gu An sighed as he spoke.

Lin Mu paused for a moment, his hand holding the wine pot still.

He recalled Qin Yumo's tone that day. It turned out that it wasn't just the Qin family that looked down on sons-in-law; the entire empire looked down on them.

“I see,” he said calmly.

Seeing that his expression didn't change, Gu An felt a mixture of admiration and pity. Orphaned, living under someone else's roof, and a son-in-law, such a person should have lived a life of despondency, yet he possessed such literary talent and bearing.

"Brother Lin," Gu An couldn't help but ask, "Don't you feel... wronged?"

Lin Mu thought for a moment, looking at the moonlight like shattered silver on the sea, and slowly said, "What's the use of feeling wronged? Your parents are gone, no one will support you anymore. If you want to live a decent life, you can only rely on yourself."

Gu An remained silent for a long time before raising the wine pot: "Brother Lin, a toast to you."

Lin Mu smiled, raised his wine jug, and clinked it against his.

The moon emerged from behind the clouds, shining upon the two of them and spreading a silvery-white path across the sea. The boat moved slowly forward, the lights on both banks long since gone, leaving only the sounds of water and wind.

At this moment, Gu An saw that the time was right and said, "Brother Lin, I would like to publish these few lines of poetry in the Bichon tabloid. I wonder if Brother Lin would mind?"

Lin Mu was taken aback: "Bichon tabloid?"

"It's like those tabloids that circulate in the market, publishing all sorts of stories, celebrity gossip, poems, and songs," Gu An explained. "I have a friend who works at a newspaper, and I occasionally recommend some good articles to him. Brother Lin's lines are expansive in scope and profound in meaning; they're more than enough for publication."

Lin Mu thought for a moment. Since it was all plagiarism anyway, it didn't matter. He shook his head and said, "I don't mind. You decide what to do."

Gu An was overjoyed, his face lighting up immediately: "That's wonderful! Brother Lin, let's go, let's talk inside the cabin. I brought paper and pen, so I can write this down."

Lin Mu hesitated for a moment, then followed him into the cabin.

Gu An's cabin was at the stern of the ship. Pushing open the door, a faint fragrance wafted towards him. It wasn't the typical woody scent of incense; it smelled more like… rouge?

Lin Mu twitched his nose. It was indeed the scent of rouge, mixed with a hint of unknown floral fragrance. It wasn't unpleasant to smell, but the fact that this scent was in a man's cabin was somewhat strange.

The cabin wasn't large, but it was spotless. There was a low table, a pot of tea, a few books, and an unidentified green plant in the corner. Compared to the large dormitory-style bed he squeezed into, it was like two completely different worlds.

Lin Mu glanced around, his gaze lingering on Gu An's face. It wasn't very clear in the moonlight, but with the cabin lights on, he realized how strikingly handsome Gu An was. He had long, slender eyebrows, fair skin, and a pointed chin. Occasionally, a hint of femininity appeared when he spoke, yet he was undeniably dressed as a man. And then there was the scent of rouge…

Lin Mu glanced around and casually asked, "Brother Gu lives alone?"

“Yes, I like peace and quiet, so I booked a room for myself.” Gu An smiled and invited him to sit down, completely unaware of Lin Mu’s little scheme. He took out paper and pen from the cabinet, sat down at the low table, dipped his brush in ink, and wrote down those few sentences.

"The spring river rises with the tide, level with the sea; the bright moon rises with the tide... I wonder how many people will return by moonlight; the setting moon stirs emotions among the trees along the river."

After he finished writing, he started a new line and added the two lines from the bow of the boat: "Enjoy life while you can, for tomorrow you may die."

Putting down his pen, Gu An looked at the words on the paper, nodded in satisfaction, then looked up again, his eyes filled with anticipation: "Brother Lin, this poem... it doesn't sound like it only has these few lines. Is there really no whole poem? If it's convenient, could you complete it?"

Lin Mu held the teacup, his fingers slowly stroking the rim.

The whole poem? Of course he remembered it. He'd memorized it in Chinese class back then, word for word. But the poem was too long, a single piece that surpassed all of Tang poetry—wouldn't it be too conspicuous to show it off?

He glanced at Gu An's expectant eyes, then thought about his status as a son-in-law. Let him be flamboyant; he was already a son-in-law, how much worse could he get?

“There is the complete text.” Lin Mu put down his teacup. “I’ll read it aloud, and you write it down.”

Gu An's eyes lit up. He dipped his brush in ink again, held the tip of his brush on the paper, and looked at Lin Mu.

Lin Mu cleared his throat, looked at the moon outside the window, and read it out word by word.

"The spring river rises with the tide, level with the sea; the bright moon rises with the tide. Rippling waves stretch for thousands of miles; where on the spring river is there no moonlight?"

The river meanders around the fragrant fields, the moonlight shining on the flower forest like scattered snowflakes. Unnoticed, frost seems to flow in the air, and the white sand on the riverbank is invisible.

The river and sky are one, without a speck of dust; the bright moon hangs alone in the sky. Who first saw the moon by the riverbank? In what year did the river moon first shine on humankind?

Life goes on endlessly, generation after generation; the river moon appears the same year after year. I wonder for whom the river moon waits, as I only see the Yangtze River carrying its flowing water.

A white cloud drifts leisurely by, while sorrow overwhelms me on the shores of Qingfengpu. Whose boat is that tonight? Where does the moon shine on the tower of longing?

The moon lingers sadly above the tower, its light surely shining on the dressing table of the one who has departed. The jade curtain cannot be rolled up to block its light, and it returns even when brushed away from the washing stone.

We gaze at each other from afar, yet cannot hear each other's voices; I wish I could follow the moonlight to shine upon you. Wild geese fly far, but the light cannot reach you; fish and dragons leap and dive, creating patterns on the water.

Last night, in a dream by the tranquil pool, fallen blossoms drifted by; alas, spring is half gone, and I cannot return home. The river flows on, spring is almost over, and the moon sets again in the west over the river pool.

The waning moon sinks deep into the sea mist, the road to Jieshi and Xiaoxiang stretches endlessly. How many will return by moonlight? The setting moon stirs emotions among the trees along the river.

Gu An's handwriting was very neat, with strokes flowing like dragons and snakes, one sentence after another falling onto the paper.

When he read the last line, "The setting moon stirs emotions among the trees along the river," Gu An trembled all over. After finishing writing, he put down his pen, stared at the poem on the page, and remained silent for a long time.

"Brother Lin," his voice was hoarse and trembling, "what is the name of this poem?"

"Spring River, Flowers and Moonlight Night."

Chapter 48 Drinking Song

“What a beautiful poem, Spring River Flower Moon Night…” Gu An then recited it again.

His voice trembled slightly.

Then he read it again: "Spring River Flower Moon Night." His voice was even softer, as if he was savoring the weight of those words. He looked down at the poems on the paper, his gaze slowly moving from the first line to the last line, "The setting moon stirs emotions, filling the trees along the river," and then started reading again from the beginning.

"Who first saw the moon by the riverbank? When did the river moon first shine on man..." he murmured, his voice growing softer and softer, his hands beginning to tremble. The paper trembled gently between his fingers, like a leaf in the wind.

"Life goes on endlessly, generation after generation, but the moon over the river looks the same year after year..."

As he read this, he suddenly looked up, his eyes reddening. There was a light in his eyes that Lin Mu couldn't understand, a mixture of shock, excitement, and something else entirely.

"Brother Lin." His voice was hoarse, "Brother Lin..."

He lowered his head to look at the poem again, his finger lightly tracing the lines "I wonder how many people will return by moonlight, the setting moon stirs emotions among the trees along the river," reciting them over and over, his voice growing more and more urgent, as if he were chewing up and swallowing every word.

"The moon sets, its light stirring emotions among the trees along the river... The moon sets, its light stirring emotions among the trees along the river..." He recited it four or five times, then suddenly put down the paper, stood up abruptly, and pushed the chair back with a jarring sound.

He grabbed Lin Mu's hand.

"Brother Lin!" His voice was loud and clear, his eyes blazing with passion. "How can such talent be buried! So what if you're a son-in-law? Can't a son-in-law rise to prominence? I don't care about any of that! I will definitely recommend you to His Majesty!"

His hands were clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Lin Mu was stunned.

It wasn't because of his words, but because of those hands. They were so small, a whole size smaller than his own; he could easily envelop them with a single grasp. And so soft, softer than a man's hands. Slender fingers, warm palms, skin as delicate as fine silk; holding them felt like holding a ball of cotton, or a piece of warm jade. The scent of rouge was even stronger, mixed with a faint, elusive fragrance, wafting from Gu An and entering Lin Mu's nostrils.

Gu An was completely unaware and was still excitedly saying, "Brother Lin, you don't know how good this poem is! You don't know! I've read so many poems over the years and I've never seen such lines before, 'Who first saw the moon by the riverbank? When did the river moon first shine on man?' This is no longer a poem, this is... this is..." He couldn't find the words, his face turned red with anxiety, and his hands tightened.

Lin Mu looked down at his hand being held, then at Gu An's face, which was slightly flushed with excitement. His Adam's apple was flat and there was nothing there.

He felt he had probably guessed something.

He gently pulled his hand away. "Brother Gu, calm down."

Gu An was stunned for a moment before realizing he had lost his composure. He released his grip, took a step back, his ears were bright red, and even his neck was tinged with a faint pink.

"I... Gu, I apologize for my rudeness." He lowered his head, his voice returning to that of a gentle and refined young man, though his fingers were still trembling slightly, unconsciously gripping his cuffs.

Lin Mu rubbed his hand, still feeling the soft touch of his hand. He glanced at Gu An, then at the poem on the table, and suddenly realized that the world was far more interesting than he had imagined.

Gu An's fingers were still unconsciously twisting his sleeve. After a moment of silence, he looked up again, a hint of embarrassment in his eyes, and said softly, "Brother Lin... earlier on the bow of the boat, that poem you recited... 'Life is short, so seize the day and enjoy it to the fullest; let not the golden goblet stand empty before the moon,' do you have the complete version?"

At this moment, Lin Mu relaxed and then laughed.

"It seems that Brother Gu saw both my smugness and my embarrassment just now."

Gu An's face turned even redder, and he quickly waved his hands: "No, no! I didn't mean to. I was attracted by Brother Lin's literary talent and that's why I came here..." His voice grew softer and softer, like a child who had done something wrong. "As for the rest, I apologize for my intrusion. Please don't take offense, Brother Lin."

Lin Mu looked at him, his gaze lingering a little longer on that overly delicate face. Her features were exquisite, her lips red and teeth white, the tips of her ears bright red, even her neck tinged with a faint pink, like a crabapple blossom about to open in spring. This was no young master; she was clearly a girl, but he wondered why she was dressed as a man.

He picked up his teacup and took a sip.

The strange feeling he had earlier dissipated considerably, and he slowly said, "The whole thing is there."

Gu An raised her head, her eyes sparkling, waiting for him to continue.

Lin Mu glanced at him, a slight smile playing on his lips: "However, it seems Brother Gu is hiding something from me."

Gu An was stunned for a moment, and the blush on his face spread to his ears. His fingers unconsciously clenched his sleeves, his eyes darted away, and his lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

Lin Mu didn't press further, but simply smiled and said, "Alright, I won't ask anymore. Here, take this poem."

He put down his teacup, gazed at the moon outside the window, and his mind drifted back to those years when he would spend all night in internet cafes, occasionally flipping through the poems he had saved on his phone to pass the time, and bragging to his buddies that he was a graduate of a prestigious university. "Don't believe me? Let me recite a poem for you."

And "Bring in the Wine" is one of his favorite poems. Those lines are etched in his mind, and he can't forget them even if he wants to.

"This poem is called 'Bring in the Wine'."

Gu An's eyes lit up, and he immediately dipped his brush in ink again, the tip hovering over the paper, waiting.

Lin Mu cleared his throat, his gaze passing through the window and landing on the full moon over the sea.

"Have you not seen the Yellow River's waters come from the sky, rushing to the sea never to return?"

His voice wasn't loud, but he pronounced each word very clearly.

"Have you not seen the bright mirror in the high hall reflecting the sorrow of white hair, which was like black silk in the morning but turned to snow by evening?"

Gu An's pen moved, the handwriting neat and tidy, each sentence following Lin Mu's voice.

"Enjoy life while you can, for time will not let your golden goblet stand empty before the moon. I was born with talents that will surely be put to use, and though I spend all my money, it will come back again."

When Lin Mu read the line "Everyone has their own unique talents," his voice unconsciously became a few decibels louder. Gu An paused for a moment, then looked up at him.

"Let's slaughter sheep and oxen for a feast, and drink three hundred cups in one go. Master Cen, Master Danqiu, let's drink, don't stop the cups. I'll sing you a song, please lend me your ear."

Lin Mu's speech gradually quickened, as if he were intoxicated, becoming more and more fluent as he read.

"Bells and drums, delicacies and jade are not precious; I only wish to be drunk forever and never wake up. Sages and worthies of the past are all lonely; only drinkers leave their names behind. Prince Chen once feasted at Ping Le, drinking ten thousand cups of wine and indulging in merriment. Why does the host say he has little money? Just go and buy some more to drink with you. My dappled horse and thousand-gold fur coat—call the boy to exchange them for fine wine, to dispel with you the sorrows of ages past."

"Let us together dispel eternal sorrow!"

After the last sentence was uttered, the cabin remained quiet for a long time.

Gu An put down his pen and looked at the densely packed words on the paper. His fingers gently stroked the phrase "Heaven has endowed me with talents that will surely be put to use; though a thousand pieces of gold are spent, they will return again," and then stroked "Together we dispel eternal sorrows," over and over again, as if he wanted to engrave these words into his heart.

Chapter 49 Tokens

Then he started reading again from the beginning. His face flushed, his breathing quickened, his chest heaved, and his eyes were fixed on the paper, as if he wanted to swallow every word. He read it over and over again three or four times before finally looking up. His gaze fell on Lin Mu's face, even brighter than before, with a heat that Lin Mu had never seen before, like a flame, or as if it held a thousand unspoken words, burning so intensely that Lin Mu dared not look directly at him.