Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 125: The News

The Ministry of Revenue, Accounting Office.

The air was thick with the musty smell of aged paper and the fresh fragrance of new ink. Abacus beads clattered incessantly, like an unending torrential downpour.

Xu Qing sat behind piles of archives, his expression focused. The tip of his brush danced swiftly over the grain transport ledgers, each number inscribed with clear, forceful strokes.

A junior clerk entered with quick, short steps, holding the newly arrived government gazette. His voice was neither too loud nor too soft, just enough for everyone in the room who was already listening intently.

"Have you heard? An urgent dispatch has come back from the Northern Frontier."

"That Su Ming, the former Hanlin Academy compiler exiled a few days ago."

"He was waylaid by mountain bandits en route. Not a single soul survived, neither him nor the escorting officers. Not even their bones could be found."

*Tap.*

A soft sound.

The brush in Xu Qing's hand slipped from his grasp and fell onto the open ledger.A dense, dark blot of ink rapidly spread, like a blooming, ominous black flower, utterly defiling the page filled with neat, elegant calligraphy.

The surrounding clamor, the clatter of abacuses, the chatter of his colleagues—all of it faded away in that instant.

Xu Qing's world was left with nothing but deathly silence.

He froze in place, the color visibly draining from his face until it was as pale as paper.

Li Wei, the colleague at the neighboring desk who had always been at odds with him, glanced sideways at his lapse. A gloating smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh dear, Clerk Xu, my condolences."

Li Wei's voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"Some people just aren't destined for an official's fortune. The capital isn't a place for just anyone to stay. Going back to the countryside to feed pigs is still better than being fed to wolves halfway there."

Xu Qing didn't move. He didn't look at him.

He just slowly, inch by inch, turned his head. Those eyes, usually clear and bright, were now terrifyingly hollow.

He gave a dry chuckle, hunched his shoulders, and turned back to continue

Xu Qing stood up.

paid no heed to the soiled ledger, nor

turned, took a step, and walked out of the

ramrod straight, like a spear that

returned to his own cramped, dimly lit room in the corner of

door closed and

of light was shut

panel, his body slowly sliding down until he slumped to the

string had finally

his face deep into his knees,

was no wailing, no roaring, only a choked, stifled sob forced from

"Brother Su..."

was me... I killed

my memorial... If not for

wave of immense grief and self-blame, enough to drown a man, instantly engulfed

man, always optimistic, resilient, and believing in "Heaven rewards the diligent," broke down and wept uncontrollably for

...

Manor,

burned brightly in the beast-headed bronze brazier, without

drew forth a decadent melody. Dancers with enchanting

couch, resting with his eyes closed. His fingers tapped lightly

and whispered a

eyelids

maintained that same unhurried, rhythmic

"Understood."

waved a hand as if shooing away a

bowed

slowly open his eyes, pick up the warm

Qianshan fellow handled things

him, his tone flat, as

ignorant ant who didn't know his place has finally been

tune. Something

...

Imperial College, Director's Residence.