In David Thompson's memory, he could no longer recall what his older brother looked like. In the eighteenth year of the Kaihuang era, he was only two years old. According to his mother, he used to ride on his brother’s shoulders all day to watch the soldiers. Later, his brother was also conscripted, and after that, all that remained in his memory were his father’s sighs and his mother’s tears...

To David Thompson, the county school’s Old Mr. Smith always seemed so wise. When he murmured that he was preparing to quit his studies and go beyond the frontier as a merchant in his father’s stead, Old Master Smith immediately cried out, “Is there going to be another war? You don’t even have time to study?”

“Sir, it’s my father’s order, and I cannot disobey!” David Thompson blushed to the tips of his ears, lowered his head, and spoke in a voice as soft as a mosquito.

“It’s no wonder, it’s no wonder. You’re already the only son left at home. And your esteemed father is nearly fifty. If you were to become a bleached bone in Liaodong, the Thompson family line would be cut off. Alas, it’s just a pity about your talent for writing. I had written letters to a few old friends, planning to ask them to look after you after next year’s Mingjing exam!” There was no blame in Old Master Smith’s words, only an indescribable sense of regret.

“Thank you, sir, for your kindness. Though I am not blessed with good fortune, I will never dare forget this favor!” David Thompson bowed deeply, his hands reaching the ground. Over the years of study, Master Smith had looked after him quite a bit, often giving him extra lessons in private. From the classics and mathematics to poetry and essays, he had taught him everything he knew. He even allowed this nominal disciple to read the notes he had written during his campaigns with Lord Yang Su in the south. But given David Thompson’s age and experience, while he could recite them fluently, he truly understood only a fraction.

Old Master Smith waved his hand and let out a long sigh. “Enough. Your father has his reasons for doing this. This eastern campaign will end in defeat, not victory. Even commoners can see it, but the officials at court are willfully blind!”

“I have received your teachings for many years and have nothing to repay you with. These few jars of mild wine are not even enough for a good drink!” David Thompson sighed, pointing to the jars of old wine placed outside the courtyard. The success or failure of the eastern campaign no longer concerned him. After today, he would no longer be considered a gentleman’s son. According to the rules since the Han dynasty, merchants were of low status, and for such national affairs as the eastern campaign, merchants had no right to comment. From now on, unless he had business to request, he could no longer visit Old Master Smith’s home as he used to. Otherwise, even if the Yang family did not drive him out, other learned scholars would mock Old Master Smith for keeping company with merchants.

Old Master Smith had always felt a special affinity for this disciple who had clung to his door and now was voluntarily leaving. Having weathered many storms in his life, he no longer had so many attachments in his old age. Smiling, he said, “People say being a merchant is a lowly profession, but I have never seen it that way. A person’s worth lies in their heart. If the heart is noble, even a peddler or porter cannot hide their righteous spirit. If the heart is base, even standing in the halls of power, one is still despicable and infamous. Your courtesy name was given by me, so you are naturally my disciple. Once a teacher, always a teacher. Whether you become a merchant or a bandit in the future, my door will always be open to you!”

“Thank you for your guidance, Master!” David Thompson lifted the hem of his long robe and bowed. Since childhood, he had studied the classics, and the hierarchy of professions had long been engraved in his heart. So ever since learning last night that he could not escape the fate of being a merchant, David Thompson had been troubled by it. Old Master Smith’s words were like opening a window above his head, letting him see a ray of sunlight in a sky that had suddenly turned gray.

“Get up. Of all my students over the years, you are not the most talented, but you are honest and kind-hearted.” Old Master Smith, having observed people for many years, could easily hear the unwillingness in David Thompson’s words. Wanting to give him one more piece of advice, he said earnestly, “I’m afraid that in the future, your honesty and kindness will be your downfall! You must know that life is full of uncertainties, and right and wrong, good and evil, are not always as they seem. What you see with your eyes may not be the truth, and what you hear with your ears may not be the real story!”

Looking at David Thompson’s bewildered face, the old master knew that it was still too soon to say these things. Although poor children mature early, David Thompson was only fourteen, and some things he simply could not understand. Even if he could, without the corresponding twists and turns in life, he would not be able to grasp their true meaning.

Life is like a jar of wine; only after being aged by time can it develop its mellow flavor. Young people are like freshly brewed wine—no matter how fine the grain or pure the spring water, there is always a lingering rawness that cannot be shaken off.

“If I gain anything in the future, I will surely come to seek your advice!” David Thompson, being perceptive, smiled, a hint of embarrassment on his face.

“If you can come, come early. After next year, I fear my peaceful days will also come to an end, and it will be time for me to move on!” Old Mr. Smith shook his head with a smile.

“Master, are you planning to travel far? Or is it a summons from the court?” David Thompson asked in confusion, not noticing the faint bitterness in Master Smith’s smile.

“It is probably fate for me as well. After all, I have received the kindness of others!” Old Master Smith continued to shake his head, unwilling to explain further.

“That’s true. Master once taught me: ‘A drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring of gratitude!’” David Thompson replied, following his teacher’s words.

“That saying is not entirely correct, but in this life, who can truly break free from the bonds in their heart?” The old master laughed heartily, deliberately changing the subject. “Let’s not talk about it. Do your best and accept fate. Since you haven’t left my door yet, let’s discuss the prospects of the eastern campaign!”

“Is Master testing me?” Freed from his worries, David Thompson asked with a smile. Last night, he had heard his father say that the court was investing heavily in the eastern campaign, already preparing provisions and armor, and planning to conscript able-bodied men across the country next spring, with the army setting out in winter or the following spring. In his understanding, with such a large country spending two years preparing for a war, there should be no reason for defeat. But today, from his teacher’s mouth, he heard a completely opposite judgment.