Claiming the Throne of Gods, Starting from the Rebirth of Nezha

At one end of the Li Mansion's courtyard, Li Jing was in bed with Miss Lv Ping, helping the girl figure out how to become the mistress of the house.

The pitiable Lv Ping didn't know that if Li Jing insisted, it would just be a matter of him being ruthless and saying a few words. But Li Jing wasn't a fool.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the courtyard, inside a room lit by a copper oil lamp shaped like a golden crow looking up, Cuiyu was accompanying Lady Yin, braiding Nezha's hair.

Nezha was lying in front of the oil lamp, holding the bundle of annotations on "Chengtang" brought by Mr. Fan, writing and drawing with a charcoal pen on an oak board.

"Am I seeing things, Madam? The third young master who didn't want to get out of bed to study in the morning is now burning the midnight oil reading. Mr. Fan really has a way."

"My son has been working hard. It's already late at night. Get some rest early, don't tire yourself out."

"Mother, don't worry. I'm strong and healthy. If you're tired, you can go rest first."

"I'm not tired. I've been resting at home all day. Watching my son study makes me happier than anything."

Hearing the mother and son's conversation, Cuiyu covered her mouth and chuckled beside them.

As Lady Yin's personal maid, she had often been on the receiving end of gossips led by Lv Ping these past two years because of Nezha. It was fortunate that Nezha had changed and was working so hard. It seemed the master would value him more now.

The charcoal pen scribbled and sketched on the board, writing over it, then washing it clean with water two or three times until the white wooden board turned pitch black.

Nezha sighed and complained, "If only there was paper."

"Paper? What paper?"

"Nothing, mother. I'm tired today. You should go rest first."

Cuiyu assisted Lady Yin out, and as they left, she poked her head back from behind the door and said, "Nezha, I'll come get you up tomorrow morning!"

"Got it."

Early the next day, just past the Hour of Chen, Cuiyu arrived. Just as she was about to knock, she heard the little voice inside saying, "Sister Cuiyu, just push the door open."

Cuiyu pushed open the door, seeing Nezha, already dressed, wiping his face with a warm towel.

"Oh my, our third young master who always sleeps late has learned to wake up by himself. What kind of magic does Mr. Fan have to enchant our little Nezha like this?"

"Nonsense! There's no such thing. If a person has no credibility, they cannot stand. I've already promised Mr. Fan I won't be late from now on, and naturally, I have to keep my word."

Cuiyu helped Nezha sit in front of the copper mirror, helping him comb and tie his hair, saying, "Children will always be mischievous."

"Sister Cuiyu, why do you always stick two little buns on my head when you tie my hair?"

"In the fishing village nearby, all the boys have this hairstyle while growing up. Unless there's a festival, you can see kids running everywhere with little buns in their hair."

"Festival?"

After hearing it from Liu Feng, Nezha heard about the festival from a second person. He still didn't quite get it, but time was running short, so he just quickly ate something and went to class.

And so it was every day for the next seven days.

Nezha didn't waste his afternoons during these days either, calling upon a few older sisters in the house to help with some kite flying.

"Nezha, what are you doing?"

"Making paper."

"What is paper?"

"For writing."

"Can't you write on wooden boards and silk?"

Glancing at the little girl's bright and sparkling eyes, Nezha sighed and said, "Never mind, just help me make it. Maybe our names will appear in the history books later."

"I don't want that unless you help me find some candied fruits. If not, then we won't help you!"

"Exactly, exactly!" A few little girls nearby heard about the candied fruits and nodded like pecking chicks, their tasks momentarily forgotten.

Nezha had no choice. These little girls were children of the household help; they hadn't signed any contract nor received any wages, so he had no authority to command them. He had to go to the kitchen and fetch a big bowl of candied fruits for the girls to eat.

What he wanted to make was paper from bamboo. The method seemed simple, but he had never tried it himself, so he wasn't confident about the process.

The raw material was bamboo, cut to about seven feet and bundled together, then soaked in lime water for about half a month.

During this period, Lady Yin, Cuiyu, and others came to watch. Li Jing, usually busy with official duties, came for the first time today.

As he looked at the large water vats in the courtyard, his already furrowed eyebrows frowned deeper. He said coldly, "Instead of studying and practicing martial arts properly, you're fooling around again?"

Since he was at home, Nezha didn't bother arguing with Li Jing, because, up till now, there was no significant hostility between father and son.

Nezha bowed respectfully and said, "Father, this is an assignment Mr. Fan gave me."

"Mr. Fan?"

"Yes, Mr. Fan said that scholars engraving books on bamboo slips is too slow and difficult to pass down. If a more convenient substitute for bamboo slips can be made, it is sure to leave a mark on history." Nezha spouted nonsense, using Mr. Fan as a shield.

Regarding Mr. Fan, Li Jing had seen him before. When Mr. Fan previously served as an official in Zhaoge, Li Jing had held deep respect and esteem for him, but times have changed.

He said, "Trivial inventions, not worth using. The world is unrestful, after you finish studying, focus more on practicing martial arts and don't cause trouble for me."

Nezha assented outwardly, but in his heart, he thought if he really was like in the tales, training in archery and horseback every day, and killing the Sea Patrol Yaksha today, and shooting dead Shi Ji's disciples tomorrow, his father probably wouldn't urge him to focus more on practicing martial arts.

Oh, father, a father I never had in past or present lifetimes.

Alas.

Watching Li Jing walk towards the storeroom, Nezha looked at his back and, for the first time, asked, "Father, are you going to the storeroom?"

"Yes, do you need something?"

"Nothing, just curious as Father usually never goes to such places."

"I'm preparing gifts for Lords Fei Zhong and You Hun in Zhaoge. I don't trust the servants to handle it."

These two names Nezha had recently heard frequently from Mr. Fan's mouth. Fei Zhong and You Hun were favored ministers of King Zhou, who wielded power and were given gifts by many vassals hoping to become acquainted.

As they say: Before approaching the Son of Heaven, first visit the Prime Minister.

Yet Nezha didn't expect that living as far as Chentang Pass, three thousand miles away from Zhaoge, would require laborious trips to send these two gifts.

He asked, "Father, what do you think of these two lords?"

"What kind of people?" Li Jing snorted, "Two troublemakers. There's a rumor that the Marquis of Jizhou, Su Hu, rebelled against the Shang dynasty because he failed to send them gifts and was schemed against, ending with having to present Daji to King Zhou. Past events should teach future lessons; I can't follow Marquis of Jizhou's path."

Mumbling, Li Jing entered the storeroom. With each visit, the family's treasures would decrease by some amount. Nezha didn't care; for him, the most important thing was the annotations on "Chengtang".

Three days later, one morning, Nezha told Mr. Fan, "Reporting to sir, Nezha has memorized the annotations on 'Chengtang' by heart."

Upon hearing this, Mr. Fan raised an eyebrow and said, "If that's the case, write it from memory."

Nezha had worked hard reading by lamplight these past days, and finally, he was able to write out from memory the nearly five thousand words of the annotations on "Chengtang".

Mr. Fan nodded after reading it and said, "I initially thought you'd take three months to learn these annotations on 'Chengtang'. Seeing your cleverness, I later thought two months would suffice. I didn't expect you to do it in just ten days. Obviously, you've put in great effort."

Nezha smiled and said, "All thanks to your excellent teaching, sir."

"No need to downplay your efforts. Hard work is hard work. Being too modest might lead to fools truly thinking you're a fool."

"I will adhere to your guidance, sir."

Seeing Nezha restless, Mr. Fan knew what he was thinking and smiled, "What I promised you before still stands. Don't hold back, ask what's on your mind."