Snowy Night with Charcoal Fire, The Butterfly Lovers' Nighttime Tale

Sun Datian shouted in a loud voice, "Good!"

He turned his head and glanced at his son, Sun Yuangui, as if to say to his son: You've made a good friend!

Xiao Zhen looked at Liang Shanbo, remained silent for a moment, then suddenly picked up his cup and raised it towards Liang Shanbo.

Zhu Tao remained silent, his gaze towards Liang Shanbo filled with admiration mixed with a hint of scrutiny.

In his view, if Liang Shanbo's generosity was entirely from the heart, it was sincerity; if it was intentional, it was also prudent and steady.

Chen Mao then cupped his hands to Meng Wenlang and said, "Sir, you have such a fine student under your tutelage; there is a worthy successor."

Meng Wenlang smiled slightly and bowed in return.

In fact, Liang Shanbo's reason for spending so much money was not to become some kind of young scholar.

He understood the principle that wealth can lead to disaster.

In his view, it was already the best he could hope to receive 20,000 coins today, as a poor man. If he were to accept 40,000 coins in public on such a occasion, it would inevitably arouse jealousy and even cause trouble.

Giving away 20,000 coins would benefit his reputation and also make the prominent people of Qiantang look at him with more respect.

Twenty thousand coins would be enough for him and his mother to live on for a long time.

Moreover, of the 20,000 coins he distributed, 10,000 were given to his mentor Meng Wenlang for the Wansong Academy, and the other 10,000 were used to help the poor students in the academy. He did it all willingly.

Outside Zhuyun Pavilion, the snow has stopped.

But then the wind picked up.

……

……

It was already night.

Outside the school building, it was a dark, snowy night.

Inside the schoolhouse, a single lamp was lit.

A rough pottery lamp sat on a small table, its orange flame flickering slightly, casting a dim, hazy glow on the walls.

There was also a charcoal fire burning.

Since the beginning of winter, Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai had been burning a charcoal fire in the schoolhouse to keep warm. Zhu Yingtai always paid for the charcoal. When Liang Shanbo offered to pay, Zhu Yingtai refused, saying only, "Brother Liang, why bother with such things?" and then dropped the subject.

At this moment, both of them had washed themselves, changed into clean clothes, and sat on their own wooden beds, warming themselves by a charcoal fire between the two beds.

Zhu Yingtai is still in a state of emotional turmoil.

In today's "Collection of Pure Sounds in the Cold Winter," she herself did not stand out. She did not rise to speak, and her poem was not selected in the top three, but she felt no regret whatsoever. Because Brother Liang shone brightly, and in her eyes, Brother Liang's brilliance was even more gratifying than her own.

This is a deep affection where "the person she loves achieves something makes her happier than if she herself achieves something."

However, perhaps she herself doesn't quite understand this feeling yet, or perhaps she's deliberately avoiding thinking about it.

"Brother Liang," she called out.

Liang Shanbo was poking at the charcoal fire with an iron fire poker. The fire flickered and a few sparks flew up, flashing between the two of them before going out.

"Hmm?" He looked up.

Zhu Yingtai's eyes sparkled: "Today, as you stood in the Zhuyun Pavilion, the center of attention, I sat on the mat watching. Besides being happy, I also had a strange feeling, as if I were the one standing there."

Liang Shanbo placed the iron fire tongs beside the charcoal brazier, straightened up and looked at her: "Today, as I stand in the pavilion, thinking of my virtuous brother beside me, I feel especially at ease."

Hearing this, Zhu Yingtai was even more delighted.

She lowered her head, looked at the charcoal fire for a while, then raised her head and continued, "Brother Liang, was that old man we saw fishing by Qiantang Lake the other day truly Lord Zhu today?"

Liang Shanbo nodded: "That's right. Lord Zhu told me this himself today."

A hint of reminiscence flashed in Zhu Yingtai's eyes: "That day, Lord Zhu was wearing a straw raincoat and a bamboo hat, sitting alone in a boat fishing. At that time, Brother Liang said that he was of noble birth. I never expected that he would be the elder of the Zhu family of Qiantang who had served as the prefect of Wu County."

She paused, then continued, "The other day I saw Lord Zhu fishing on the lake, and I thought it was just an ordinary scene—an old man fishing in the snow. How could Brother Liang see poetry in it?"

Liang Shanbo smiled slightly, his smile appearing especially gentle in the glow of the charcoal fire: "Poetry is the expression of feelings by things. If one can find a point of understanding in the scenery before one's eyes, that is the realm of poetry."

Zhu Yingtai then asked, "Brother Liang, you've distributed the reward money today, are you really not regretting it? It's 40,000 coins."

Liang Shanbo looked at her calmly: "I also love money, and besides, I am just a poor scholar from a humble background. With forty thousand coins in front of me, it would be a lie to say that I am not tempted at all."

But loving money doesn't mean being greedy. If I were to accept all 40,000 coins today, that would be greed. In this world, money is important, but some things are also important, such as respecting teachers and being filial to parents.

Zhu Yingtai said admiringly, "Brother Liang's act of distributing money today has made many well-dressed young men here pale in comparison. His demeanor is truly that of a renowned scholar."

Liang Shanbo shook his head: "I don't aspire to be a famous scholar. Whether I am or not is not important. What is important is to have integrity. True integrity lies not in being unrestrained and unconventional, but in maintaining one's integrity in the face of wealth and honor. If I accept all 40,000 coins today, I will lose my senses; if I refuse them, I will be hypocritical. Keeping one for my mother and one for myself will put my mind at ease."

Zhu Yingtai was silent for a moment, then softly repeated: "Integrity!"

Then she raised her head, her eyes filled with curiosity and inquiry: "Brother Liang, what was it like for you when you were a child in your hometown of Shanyin? I can't imagine that someone as calm and composed as you could have been mischievous as a child. Could you have been this mature and steady all your life?"

Liang Shanbo paused for a moment, then laughed: "When I was mischievous? Of course I was. There's an old willow tree by Mirror Lake, its trunk so thick it takes two people to encircle it, and its branches are all crooked, just the right size to climb up and sit on. When I was a child, I often loved to climb that tree, sit on it and look at the lake, the boats, and the distant mountains."

Once, when I was climbing a tree, I accidentally fell and was badly hurt. My mother was terrified and cried. My father was also very frightened and rushed to fetch a doctor to examine me. Fortunately, it wasn't anything serious, and neither my parents scolded me. They just told me never to climb that old willow tree again.

As Zhu Yingtai listened, a scene flashed before her eyes: under the old willow tree by Mirror Lake, a boy had fallen to the ground, but he gritted his teeth and refused to cry. A woman held him, tears falling drop by drop, while a thin scholar hurriedly ran off to fetch a doctor.

She couldn't help but smile, "Brother Liang can be so mischievous too."

Liang Shanbo smiled and said nothing more.

Actually, those were things the original owner experienced.

However, after he traveled through time, he wandered alone under the old willow tree by Mirror Lake, climbed up the tree, and sat there for a long time. The scenery of the lake and mountains was real, and the branches of the willow tree were real too. Only the boy who fell from the tree back then was no longer there.