Chapter 247 - 137: Secret
"Alright, alright, stop explaining. I believe you, I believe you graduated from Tsinghua. So, what was your major?"
"English."
"...Master Qin, let’s just drink."
"You..."
Uncle Qin could tell from Su Ran’s expression that he didn’t believe him.
"Fine, you don’t believe me, right? Okay, then. I’ll recite a little something for you. Ahem... Listen closely... ’Death and life are rich, and Zicheng said. Hold your hand and grow old together with you.’"
HOLY SHIT????
When a person is so shocked they’re at a loss for words, the only thing that fits is ’holy shit.’ The heavier the tone, the more badass and profound the shock. That was Su Ran at this very moment.
He was completely stunned.
It was just that Old Qin’s tone didn’t have a trace of a rustic accent; it was a pure, standard British accent. And the most crucial part was that it had actually come from Uncle Qin’s mouth.
It was simply unbelievable.
Su Ran’s English was at an average high school level. Since he hadn’t majored in English in college, it was naturally just so-so. Of course, Su Ran’s specialty was Chinglish; when it came to tests, he’d pound his chest and guarantee he understood how to use ’be’ verbs better than most people from the United States.
As for his spoken English, it was definitely lacking.
’I guess I need to find an American girl to kiss to improve my speaking skills.’
"So, Su Ran, what do you think?"
Old Qin tossed a peanut into his mouth, took a small sip of Maotai, and said smugly, "I told you I graduated from Tsinghua, but you just wouldn’t believe me."
Hiss—
Su Ran sucked in a sharp breath, still not having recovered from the shock. ’Our village is hiding a Tsinghua graduate?’
Tsinghua graduates from decades ago were all pillars of the nation.
"Uncle Qin, were you really a teacher before?"
"That’s right. After graduating, I was a teacher in the Imperial Capital for a while. Then the Up to the Mountains and Down to the Countryside Movement came along and delayed things for a few years. After I went back, I passed the civil service exam, became a translator, and went to London to work as a diplomatic translator for over a decade."
Holy shit.
Su Ran was truly astonished.
’If it’s not fake, then it must be true.’
"Then what happened? What about your wife and kids?"
"Wife? Kids?" Hearing those two words, Uncle Qin’s entire expression changed. His eyes lost their focus. He seemed to have been triggered by something. He gave a foolish grin, then burst into a wild cackle, and ran off with a "HAHAHA..."
"Shumin!"
He shouted into the night sky before collapsing to the ground.
Su Ran hadn’t expected to trigger him like that, so he helped him back to his room.
’If this is all true,’ he thought, ’then there might be a way to trace where Uncle Qin came from.’
Su Ran was more than willing to help this crazy old man find his family, but there was a problem. All he knew was that his surname was Qin, he claimed to be from Tsinghua—though who knows what year—and he had worked as a translator. That would be very difficult to look up.
’Shumin? That must be his wife’s name, right?’
With that thought, Su Ran left the room and returned to his own small courtyard. He sipped his liquor, wondering about that English phrase Old Qin had recited earlier.
He only remembered the first part, "Something, something, ’Death and life are rich...’"
He searched online and quickly found the original source.
It wasn’t originally English, but a line from a Chinese text that had been translated into English.
To be precise, the line came from the *Classic of Poetry: Bei Wind: Drumming*.
[Through life and death, parting and meeting, this I pledge to you. To hold your hand, and with you, grow old. Death and life are rich, and Zicheng said. Hold your hand and grow old together with you.]
Su Ran savored the words. It was a beautiful line of poetry. Shan Weizi liked to say it, too.
As for why Old Qin recited the English version, it was probably because of the "Shumin" he spoke of.
"So Old Qin is a devoted man, just like me."
After finishing his drink, he saw the cured meat was done smoking. He took it out and hung it under the eaves, then went back inside, lay on his bed, and started searching. "Shumin," "Famous Tsinghua student with surname Qin," "Diplomat from Tsinghua," "Translator from Tsinghua"... He found nothing. In the end, he just searched for "Xiaobao’s Talks" and watched two episodes where the female guests got thoroughly schooled by Xiaobao before going to sleep.
...
「The next morning.」
Su Ran got up, went for his usual run, and came back to make some noodles—intestine noodles, using the leftover pork intestines from last night.
As he was eating, he saw Old Qin come out of his room.
"Uncle Qin, you’re awake?"
"Hey, did I drink too much last night?"
"Not too much. By the way, Uncle Qin, last night you said you were from Tsinghua. What year did you graduate?"
"Tsinghua? What Tsinghua? I went to Peking University."
PFFT—
Su Ran spat out a mouthful of noodles.
"Then who taught you English?"
"I’m from China, why would I learn that foreign gibberish? I’m a patriot."
Uh...
Good grief, he’s really lost it.
However, it was certain that he had been lucid last night, and now he was back in a half-crazed state.
Su Ran didn’t dare ask more, afraid of triggering him again.
Knowing he was from Tsinghua, had been a diplomatic translator, and had been to London—that information was enough. He could investigate slowly. If he asked too many questions and triggered a complete breakdown, the loss would far outweigh the gain.
"Uncle Qin, I’m heading out to travel in a bit. I have some meat left in my fridge, I’ll bring it over for you."
"No need, I can come get it myself."
"Let me bring it over."
Su Ran wanted to use the opportunity of delivering the meat to check his hut for any clues.
He grabbed the meat and went to the hut. The thatched-roof hut was small and dim; you needed to turn on the light to see anything clearly. In truth, everything inside had been provided by Su Ran. And "provided" just meant things Su Ran had moved over from his own house for him to use.
The old man was stubborn. If anyone else gave him things, he would throw them out, thinking they were looking down on him, and even curse them out.
Only when Su Ran gave him things would he accept them cheerfully.
What a strange old man.
Inside the hut were classic books like the *Jin Yong Collection*, *Jin Pingmei*, and others.
There was also a yellowed photograph by the bed.
Su Ran had never paid attention to these things before. After all, who would pay attention to what a Village Guardian had in his home? He wouldn’t even have been curious about a photo. But now that the man clearly had a badass background, Su Ran was naturally curious. And a photograph could reveal everything.