Chapter 1042: One Flower Blooms, Spring Arrives Under Heaven
The village school was beside the water, an old stream with a single plum branch. People stood beneath the tree where the rain's feet met the cloud roots; the sound of water, the colors of the mountain, and the plum blossoms all vied to come before you.
In the mountains, ten thousand green bamboo stalks; one imagined that when night fell, it would be a different kind of scenery—flowing water and bright moonlight melting into a stream of snow.
Beneath the eaves of the school, Yu Mian performed a curtsy. Yu Yu, with none of her usual wildness, obediently clasped her hands and bowed respectfully to the young Hidden Official, her voice as faint as a mosquito's, following the Emperor's lead and calling out "Teacher Cheng."
Chen Ping'an nodded to them in greeting, then clasped his hands to the two fellow educators, smiling as he said, "Teacher Cheng, Teacher Feng, you two seniors have witnessed my teaching. If this junior has done anything improper in the village school, I hope you will not hesitate to offer your guidance."
With outsiders present, and since one doesn't strike a smiling face, the two tutors furrowed their brows and nodded. Having listened to half an hour of his lecture, this Chen Ji was indeed just as before—young, yet speaking with great boldness. Hah, a mere tutor who had never even gilded his resume at the county academy, yet he dared to boast about achievements and flaunt his essays? To attract village children and earn a few more coins, he resorted to every cunning trick. Did he truly think that qualified as upright conduct? It seemed that in order to make a good impression on this group of outsiders, he had thrown all shame to the wind.
Yunzhou Overseer Pei Tong and Yunzhou General Chu Liang each silently bowed in greeting, neither in a hurry to announce their identities. These two regional magnates each harbored their own thoughts. Pei Tong pondered: was the man before him the final disciple of the Sage of Literature, the junior fellow apprentice of Imperial Preceptor Cui Chan and Mr. Qi of Cliff Academy? The military man Chu Liang, however, was wondering whether this refined, gentle tutor in blue robes, long gown, and cloth shoes was truly the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, the one newly engraved with the character "Ping."
Noticing that fellow glance sideways at him with a half-smile, Zhao Yao felt somewhat helpless. You get along with everyone else, so why must you nitpick with me? Are you that grudging? Back in the Dali capital, didn't I just make an innocent little joke? Seeing that the other party had no intention of letting him off, Vice Minister Zhao had no choice but to steel himself and softly call out, "Junior Uncle Master." Seeing Chen Ping'an reveal a face of "elder relative seeing a promising youth," Zhao Yao sighed. With your high seniority, I'll bear with you.
During the fifteen-minute break between lessons, the village children, because so many outsiders had arrived—and wealthy-looking ones at that—became somewhat restrained. They weren't as rowdy as usual. The timid ones didn't even dare leave the schoolroom. They sat there pretending to flip through books while stealing glances at the new scene outside the window. The boys paid more attention to the scar on Chu Liang's neck, while the girls secretly observed the styles of the two women's clothing.
Chen Ping'an led the group to the main hall of his dwelling to sit down. There was an old, worn-out octagonal table that he had bought from a villager. He had Zhao Shuxia brew tea to entertain the guests. After introducing this disciple's identity to Song He, Chen Ping'an said with slight apology, "You arrived a bit early; it's not yet time to pick the pre-Ming tea. These are last year's Grain Rain teas. Please make do."
Tutor Han Wo and student Feng Yuanting were reluctant to leave too early. Hearing Chen Ji's invitation, they went along with it and entered the simple hall. The side room with its closed door was presumably Chen Ji's bedroom and study combined.
Ning Ji didn't dare disturb the teacher's hospitality, so he just stood by the stone sundial on the drying ground.
Two disciples: Zhao Shuxia was the type to serve his teacher, attending by his side. Ning Ji, however, was a proper, steady student, currently an interlude visitor in the village school, like the other village children.
Chen Ping'an beckoned to Ning Ji, who trotted into the room. Chen Ping'an said with a smile, "This is a student I just took in. Ning Ji—peace and good fortune. It's a good name."
Ning Ji blushed and bowed to everyone.
The people in the room mostly focused their attention on this dark-skinned youth named Ning Ji.
Only Zhao Yao took a few extra glances at the taciturn Zhao Shuxia, who nevertheless didn't give a sense of being aloof.
Because two tutors from the neighboring village were present, the host and guests didn't discuss much serious business. After drinking a bowl of tea, Chen Ping'an apologized and said he needed to continue teaching. He left the room with Ning Ji, telling Zhao Shuxia to stay and entertain the guests.
After Chen Ping'an left, Song He proactively asked the two elder tutors about the school situation in Wuxi Village.
With their colleague Chen Ji, the two old men would put on airs, but in front of these outsiders whose backgrounds were unclear, they weren't so casual. Especially the Song surnamed man who seemed to be the leader—somehow, he carried a weight of officialdom about him. Thus, the Q&A felt more like being questioned by a teacher about their lessons. Yu Mian tugged at the Emperor's clothes under the table, and Song He stopped his line of questioning, turning instead to idle talk about farming seasons and local customs.
After the village school let out for the day, the two elder tutors took their leave. Once far from the school, Feng Yuanting tugged at his Confucian robe collar, let out a breath, and tentatively said, "That Song fellow—could he be a high official serving in the prefectural office?" Han Wo feigned calm, smiled, and glanced back toward the school. "It's hard to say how high an official he is, but one thing is certain: this man must be from a noble family in the north." Feng Yuanting couldn't help but be curious. "How would those aristocratic scions know Chen Ji?" Han Wo thought for a moment and said, "Perhaps that man is Chen Ji's benefactor." Feng Yuanting muttered gloomily, "Good for him. He stepped in dog shit luck."
Chen Ping'an, as the host, naturally sat in the main seat facing the door. Song He and Yu Mian sat on one long bench, across from them Pei Tong, Chu Liang, and Yu Yu.
Zhao Shuxia and Ning Ji sat opposite their respective masters and teachers. Vice Minister Zhao, of the same generation, sat beside Zhao Shuxia, relatively close to the other side of the table where Yu Yu was.
After exchanging pleasantries, it was time for the meal. Chen Ping'an smiled and asked, "Simple home cooking—can you eat it? In this wilderness, laboring all year round, the food inevitably tends to be heavy on spice and salt. I've more or less adopted the same taste. It's not exactly 'when in Rome' for you all."
If they couldn't eat it, there was no helping it. Here, Chen Ping'an was just an ordinary tutor; he had no intention of making exceptions for this group or moving to entertain them at Luopo Mountain.
Song He immediately looked at the Empress beside him. She smiled and nodded. Then Song He said, "It's fine. None of us have any problem."
Chen Ping'an stood up. "Then I'll cook a few dishes myself. My skills might be lacking—please forgive me."
Seeing this, Zhao Yao felt somewhat relieved.
Chu Liang was a rough man, so he didn't think much of it. But Pei Tong was meticulous. He sensed that Chen Ping'an's aura had changed slightly, no longer carrying that cold, businesslike demeanor of someone who would finish talking and then show the guests out.
It wasn't long before Zhao Shuxia and Ning Ji, who had helped in the kitchen, brought the dishes to the table. They couldn't claim the dishes were perfect in color, aroma, and taste, but several seasonal vegetables looked quite light and fresh.
Chen Ping'an took off his apron in the kitchen. Ning Ji brought out two types of liquor: local distilled spirit and glutinous rice wine. Yu Yu cautiously watched the young Hidden Official's expression and, against her conscience, said she would just have a little rice wine.
Chen Ping'an picked up his wine bowl and said with a smile, "Everyone, as you please. I'll down this first."
Song He also followed suit and finished a bowl of the distilled spirit. The result was that he choked, his face turning bright red, and he quickly turned his head, covering his mouth. Pei Tong and Chu Liang wanted to say something but held back.
For some reason, after arriving at the school and meeting the tutor, they felt as if they had left the land and officialdom of Dali.
Chen Ping'an didn't say anything. He took the lead in picking up his chopsticks and urged everyone to eat.
Song He first explained why he had come here, to "filter out" the river god Gao Niang and Yu Huiting, so that Chen Ping'an wouldn't misunderstand them.
Chen Ping'an listened patiently, occasionally nodding.
Song He hesitated, then went straight to the point: "Mr. Chen, I've taken the liberty of coming here this time, still hoping to persuade you. Regarding what happened at the wedding banquet in the capital last time, I hope Mr. Chen will reconsider."
Chen Ping'an picked up a bite of vegetables, chewed slowly, and nodded. "From today onward, I will give it serious thought."
Song He was full of surprise. He had been prepared to be shut out today, but instead he had eaten a home-cooked meal at Mr. Chen's table, drank wine with him, and hadn't even been outright refused. Last time, when Chen Ping'an brought "the stranger" into the palace and strange phenomena occurred, the Dali Bureau of Astronomy had been quite frightened. Song He had mistakenly thought that Chen Ping'an had completely fallen out with the Dali Song clan. As a result, in recent days, the Empress Dowager Nan Zan, seeming somewhat guilty, had been unusually polite—whether toward him or toward her daughter-in-law Yu Mian—so much so that she no longer acted like a mother-in-law still in charge.
Pausing for a moment, Chen Ping'an continued, "The reason I hesitated before—aside from needing to sort out some personal grievances and old scores—was mainly because Senior Brother Cui Chan once said some harsh words to me in person. He spoke very directly, bluntly and to the point. His gist was that I was completely unsuited to be the Imperial Preceptor of Dali. He believed that when it came to national strategies and battlefield tactics, I was an outsider spinning my own cocoon, with only a 'kind-hearted disposition' like a self-cultivator. I had no right to talk about expanding horizons or creating new atmospheres. He also said that at the Sword Qi Great Wall, my modest achievements were due to borrowing power from the Great Sword Immortal and the strategic arrangements of the entire Summer Resort Palace. So for the Sword Qi Great Wall, I was just icing on the cake, not coal in the snow. If he had been in my position, doing the same things, then my role in the Summer Resort Palace would have been that of someone who was nice to have but not essential. In short, I was irrelevant to the big picture."
When Chen Ping'an laid this out—perhaps because he was paraphrasing Cui Chan, or perhaps because the words "Sword Qi Great Wall" and "Summer Resort Palace" carried such weight—it pressed heavily on everyone's hearts. Whether it was Emperor Song He or regional magnates like Pei Tong and Chu Liang, who aspired to titles like Pillar of State or Patrol Envoy, they all unconsciously held their breath and straightened their backs.
Chen Ping'an smiled to himself. "That's the logic. But I think I've done a passable job at keeping the legacy going. Entrusted by others, I've fulfilled my promises. Not too bad."
Everyone present today wasn't stupid. Except for the inexperienced youth Ning Ji, they all understood that Chen Ping'an's subtext was actually about his senior brother Cui Chan's subtext.
When the big senior brother says you're not up to the task, then you're not. Don't argue just because you've achieved a little. But these were words spoken behind closed doors between fellow apprentices, about the matter itself. Still, you are ultimately my junior fellow apprentice. When something comes up, you still have to step up.
Saying you're not good enough—it's worth Cui Chan's time to say a few words. Others are even worse. Those few in the Dali dynasty who think they are good enough, and those who think they are not—none of them are.
So when Chen Ping'an went to the Dali capital last time, aside from resolving the matter of the Destiny Porcelain fragments, he also wanted to see with his own eyes whether Senior Brother Cui had arranged a candidate to succeed him as Imperial Preceptor—someone like Zhao Yao, for instance.
After the meal and drinks, it was the Empress Yu Mian and Yu Yu, who felt she had to put on a show for the young Hidden Official, who took the initiative to clear the dishes.
After the table was cleared, Chen Ping'an invited the Emperor and the two regional officials in charge of the province's military and civil affairs—along with his fellow apprentice nephew Zhao Yao—to go to his study for tea and casual talk.
Only then did he learn that Overseer Pei Tong's grandfather and father had both come from the old Cliff Academy in the capital, where Qi Jingchun had served as mountain chief. Of course, now it had been converted into the government-run Spring Mountain Academy.
Seeing his colleague Overseer Pei chatting and laughing freely with the young Hidden Official, Chu Liang grew a little anxious. After much thought, he really had nothing to offer to ingratiate himself with Chen Ping'an.
Yu Mian stood at the door of the side room, bent her finger, and knocked softly.
Chen Ping'an, sitting on the edge of the bed, turned his head and called out with a smile, "Yu Yu, bring a bench in."
Chen Ping'an sat cross-legged with his hands clasped around his knees, but as he spoke, he put both feet on the floor.
There were only two official-style armchairs in the room, so Chen Ping'an and the Emperor let Pei Tong and Chu Liang take them, while they themselves sat on the bed edge.
Chu Liang wanted to give up his seat to the Empress and Yu Yu, but Pei Tong stopped him with a look. Mind your manners—who would sit on a seat you've warmed with your backside? How improper!
Yu Yu moved a long bench from beside the octagonal table into the room and sat shoulder to shoulder with the Empress.
Song He, guessing her thoughts, shook his head, indicating that Yu Mian's matter could wait.
But the Empress rarely insisted so stubbornly, her gaze resolute. Song He sighed softly and nodded in agreement.
Yu Mian said, "There's something I need to apologize to Mr. Chen for, and also ask for your help."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Speak freely."
Yu Mian took out a bracelet made of spirit rhinoceros beads from her sleeve. Yu Yu quickly grabbed it, stood up, and handed it to the Hidden Official.
Chen Ping'an took the bracelet and said, "A few of these indeed have restrictions set by Xiao Mo with his sword techniques. Later, I'll have him remove the restrictions and ask Mountain Lord Wei to help return it to its owner."
Yu Mian breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Mr. Chen.
Song He was even more relieved.
That messy account—the old scores Mr. Chen mentioned—could it be considered settled? Every family has its own hard-to-recite scriptures. Many matters are truly beyond even an honest official's ability to judge family affairs. Even though he was the supreme ruler, the sovereign of the Dali dynasty, he was still Empress Dowager Nan Zan's son.
Since Chen Ping'an had mentioned Wei Bo, Song He took the opportunity to bring up the matter of the Five Peaks enfeoffment.
Chen Ping'an didn't go into details, but Yu Yu laughingly teased, "You only need to see Mountain Lord Wei's true face once to understand why men on the mountains love watching mirror flowers and moon water."
Pei Tong pretended not to understand the young Yu girl's jest, since the Empress was present. Chu Liang, with fewer twists in his gut, grinned openly. But out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Overseer Pei sitting there with a composed expression, eyes fixed on his nose. That made him a bit nervous, afraid of being "improper before the throne." However, when he shifted his gaze and saw the young Hidden Official and even their Emperor enjoying themselves, Chu Liang laughed heartily too. We're all grown men here; Overseer, why are you pretending to be such a gentleman? You pen-pushers, no matter how big the official hat on your head, you're never as straightforward as us real men who wield swords on horseback.
Zhao Shuxia and Ning Ji were busy in the kitchen washing dishes and scrubbing chopsticks.
The boy lowered his voice and asked cautiously, "Senior Brother Zhao, those people?"
Zhao Shuxia said indifferently with a smile, "You guessed right. That's the Emperor and Empress. As for the two officials beside them, they're probably Overseer Pei and General Chu from Yunzhou here."
The boy smiled. "Senior Brother Zhao, wouldn't you say that Master matches what the books say—'in his laughter, there are great scholars; in his comings and goings, no common men'?"
Zhao Shuxia laughed silently.
Ning Ji quickly changed his words. "No, that's not right. Master is 'in the deep mountains, he has distant kin,' and even more so, 'My heart has long been at ease; the clear stream is thus serene.'"
Zhao Shuxia couldn't help teasing, "Ning Ji, you're quick to learn and use. Little Senior Brother will definitely think you're promising material. He'll probably end up teaching you a few Luopo Mountain secret techniques."
Ning Ji stretched out his palm—it was covered in sweat.
Zhao Shuxia smiled. "You've already seen Palm Master Lu. You don't need to be this nervous."
Ning Ji thought about it for a moment and felt that Zhao Shuxia's argument did make sense.
Ning Ji asked curiously, "Senior Brother Cui is clearly Master's first student, so why do they call him Little Senior Brother and Senior Sister Pei as Big Senior Sister?"
Zhao Shuxia shook his head. "Not too sure. It seems that when Little Senior Brother first met Master, he didn't want to be called Big Senior Brother. He insisted on being called Little Senior Brother, and he called Senior Sister Pei Big Senior Sister. Different roles, different titles."
---
Spring breezes filled the mountain passes, unable to be confined. Sun set, moon rose. Birds flew above the eaves, clouds drifted out of windows, and the wind passed, stirring the pines with a sound for you.
In Luopo Mountain, in the old cook's courtyard, Xie Gou sat on the steps, watching Xiao Mo weave a bamboo dustpan together with Old Man Zhu. She thought that Xiao Mo, focused on his work, looked ridiculously handsome. She swallowed, restraining the urge to pounce like a hungry tiger, and rubbed the sable hat on her head, her spirits high. Out of nowhere, she blurted, "Xiao Mo, last time when I left Luopo Mountain without permission, you weren't worried about me. You let me go handle things alone. I'm really happy!"
Xiao Mo hesitated, then said honestly, "At the time, it was the master who told me not to follow you."
Zhu Lian lowered his head and rolled his eyes.
An unenlightened blockhead, hard to teach. If you, Xiao Mo, had even one ten-thousandth of your sword technique's skill in matters of men and women, you wouldn't have stupidly blurted out the truth.
Xie Gou seemed still overjoyed. She crossed her arms, lifted her chin high, and said loudly, "I don't care about that! As long as you didn't follow, I'm happy!"
Xiao Mo said, "The master advised this way, and I myself thought there was some sense to it."
All true.
Xie Gou sniffled, her voice softening. "Xiao Mo, Xiao Mo, saying that makes me even happier!"
Zhu Lian shook his head and continued skillfully weaving the bamboo dustpan.
Look at this pair—one older than the other, with over ten thousand years of Dao age, but in the garden of romantic love, weren't they just two fledglings?
One had to raise her voice to hide her disappointment, saying she didn't care, but of course she cared. The other couldn't tell at all—wasn't that just a fool?
Still, they matched each other. Very well suited.
Xie Gou had sharp eyes. Suspiciously, she said, "Old Mr. Zhu, do you have a different opinion? Between us, who's who, tell me."
Zhu Lian chuckled. "No opinion. I just think it's nauseating to see you two lovey-dovey in my yard."
Xiao Mo blushed.
Xie Gou laughed heartily, shaking her shoulders. She took the old cook's comment not as an insult but as a compliment. "Heh, I'll nauseate you to death."
Zhu Lian didn't argue with the sable-hat girl. He just reminded Xiao Mo, "Xiao Mo, you only look young. You're old enough. Take it easy. Don't let an old house catch fire."
Xiao Mo became even more awkward. What was all this about?
Xie Gou pounded her fist into her palm. Old Mr. Zhu's words were truly learned. They might sound harsh at first, but every sentence hit the spot, every word landing right on her heart!
This Luopo Mountain of ours—a great place. The longer I stay, the more comfortable I feel. Every day is so pleasant. Truly, birds of a feather flock together. Even if they tried to drive me away, I wouldn't leave!
Xie Gou asked, "Old Mr. Zhu, if I were to have a sword duel with that Chen Zhuoliu, would I have any chance of winning?"
Zhu Lian smiled and asked in return, "Are you going to risk your life?"
Xie Gou grinned. "As a guest, why risk my life? Just a spar."
Zhu Lian said, "No chance at all."
Xie Gou asked, "What if I risk my life?"
Zhu Lian said, "No chance at all."
Xie Gou looked at him with resentful eyes. "Then why waste words?"
Zhu Lian laughed. "You wasted them first."
Xie Gou surprisingly didn't get angry. She nodded to herself. "It seems I really need to practice swordsmanship well."
First, that Lü Yan with the Dao name Pure Yang, then the scholar Li Xisheng, and now Chen Zhuoliu, who had set a grand vow similar to the Buddhist ones to attain the Dao.
Well, the masters of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism were all present.
Xiao Mo asked, "Mr. Zhu, will the master take on the role of Dali's new Imperial Preceptor?"
The happenings in Yunzhou and Yanzhou couldn't be hidden from Xiao Mo on Luopo Mountain.
Zhu Lian paused in his work, thought for a moment, and said, "Probably."
Xiao Mo asked, "Why?"
Zhu Lian smiled. "The master always likes to make things difficult for himself."
Xie Gou muttered inwardly—what kind of answer was that?
Gao Jun was taking a walk alone here. She hesitated, then stepped into the yard. Familiar with the place, she picked a bamboo chair and sat not far from Zhu Lian.
Zhu Lian smiled and nodded to her, then continued with the previous topic. "To be a good person, don't you always need to make things difficult for yourself?"
Xiao Mo nodded. "When you hear good deeds, you suspect them; when you hear evil deeds, you believe them—that is a heart full of killing intent. Once such intent arises, goodwill recedes. So, practicing all good deeds and avoiding all evil deeds—that is both wonderful and difficult."
Zhu Lian nodded. "Knowing is easy, doing is hard. The difficulty lies in truly realizing a principle; you need to set up many other principles beside it and dismantle many original ones. Back and forth, it becomes harder and harder."
Xie Gou quickly praised, "Xiao Mo, Xiao Mo, you really were someone who personally listened to the Buddha's teachings!"
Xiao Mo said helplessly, "I only heard it in passing; it never settled in my heart. Looking back now, it is indeed regrettable."
Gao Jun's eyelids twitched.
That sable-hat girl might be talking nonsense.
But "Mr. Xiao Mo," who left a good impression on everyone, was never the type to boast like a frivolous scholar.
Then Zhu Lian asked a strange question. "Xiao Mo, Miss Xie, Head Gao, do you enjoy studying arithmetic?"
Xiao Mo said, "I can't say I love it. Being by the master's side, I've absorbed some knowledge through osmosis, but I'm still a layman."
Xie Gu was unusually silent. Among the three teachings and the hundred schools, arithmetic was the one she was least interested in.
Actually, most mountain Qi refiners, more or less, couldn't avoid arithmetic and divination.
But Xie Gou might be one of the few exceptions. When it came to sword techniques, you just practiced with your eyes closed; no need to read books.
Gao Jun said, "There are similar lessons in the sect, but I only occasionally study arithmetic and hexagrams."
Zhu Lian said calmly, "Perhaps all cessions of freedom are seeking a greatest common divisor."
Xiao Mo was thoughtful.
Xie Gou glanced at Xiao Mo and pretended to be thoughtful too.
Gao Jun couldn't help but ask a question that had been bottled up inside her for a long time. Ever since she left the Lotus Root Paradise on the first day and climbed Luopo Mountain, learning that the old cook was named "Zhu Lian," she had wanted a definitive answer.
"Zhu Lian, are you really Zhu Lian?"
Xie Gou couldn't help laughing. Such a stupid question to ask!
Zhu Lian asked in return, "Why does Head Gao ask that?"
To everyone's surprise, Gao Jun's pretty face flushed slightly, and she hesitated.
It turned out that in the secret vault of the Lake Mountain Sect in the state of Song Lai, there were several portraits of a certain person, all painted by senior female members of the sect—all of whom had been recognized as great beauties.
Nobleman Zhu Lian, most like an immortal banished to earth, with unparalleled talent and unmatched elegance, peerless in style.
Coupled with this "Martial Lunatic," who had been the world's number one before Ding Ying, a figure not too long ago in history, the Lake Mountain Sect often talked about Zhu Lian.
Zhu Lian smiled. "If there's no mistake, I should be the Zhu Lian Head Gao is referring to."
Gao Jun looked at the "old cook."
Zhu Lian chuckled. "Beauty fades like a mirror's reflection, flowers fall from trees—it has always been thus. Aging and losing one's looks isn't limited to women. I'm afraid I've disappointed Head Gao."
Gao Jun let out a quiet sigh. She only regretted being born a hundred years late in the martial world, unable to witness that "Zhu Lang's countenance," rumored to be impossible to fully capture even in a thousand portraits.
According to martial lore, in the peak battle at the capital of Southern Garden State in bygone days, the world's number one, Zhu Lian, had an appointment with the other nine top martial artists of the world amidst a heavy snowfall.
The nine dared not enter the city alone, so they arrived together. On the city wall, someone sat cross-legged, one hand supporting his chin, wearing a silver lotus crown.
The world was white like a crystalline realm. When that man slowly rose, two female grandmasters among the nine were secretly heartbroken before even making a move.
Gao Jun had grown up in the Lake Mountain Sect listening to many such "stories." Most martial women like her were the same; few were exceptions.
As for the century when Ding Ying became the world's number one, some thought Zhu Lian must have been exaggerated, while others believed his reputation was well-deserved. Opinions varied, and people often argued over a figure who had left the martial world over a hundred years ago—women argued with men, and women argued with women.
Zhu Lian, who had been weaving a basket with his head down, suddenly looked up and said in exasperation, "Xiao Mo, take care of your Miss Xie!"
Xiao Mo was bewildered. Xie Gou, the culprit, was playing dumb. Gao Jun stared blankly at Zhu Lian, her face full of shock, even a trace of fright.
Xie Gou saw that she couldn't fool Xiao Mo, so she covered her mouth with her hand and said as if seeking credit, "Xiao Mo, last time I saw Old Mr. Zhu's true appearance, I wasn't as flustered as Head Gao."
Xiao Mo laughed angrily. "Stop using your sword intent!"
Xie Gou pouted and withdrew the sword intent that had been washing away the "mask" on Zhu Lian's face like rain.
Zhu Lian smiled. "Head Gao, when the first heavy snow falls in the capital of Southern Garden State this year, I will have a boxing match with my master. If Head Gao is free, you can watch from the sidelines."
Gao Jun was speechless, stunned.
Xie Gou coughed a few times to remind her, "Head Gao, Head Gao, wake up."
Gao Jun silently stood up. Without even taking her leave of Zhu Lian, she walked straight out of the yard.
Xie Gou still sighed to herself, "If Luopo Mountain were willing to hold mirror flower and moon water shows, how much spirit coin would they earn!"
Xie Gou asked softly, "Xiao Mo, are there any fourteenth-realm female cultivators who hold grudges against Luopo Mountain?"
That way, they could send Old Mr. Zhu. Dress him up a bit, peel off the mask, and just let him stand there—guaranteed to be more effective than anything else.
Xiao Mo glared at her. "Mr. Zhu is generous and won't hold this joke against you. You'd better know your limits and not go too far."
Xie Gou said, "Oh," then asked with a cheeky grin, "Has Mountain Lord Chen ever seen Old Mr. Zhu's true face?"
Zhu Lian smiled and shook his head.
But Xiao Mo knew a secret he had heard from Mountain Lord Wei. He didn't reveal the truth to Xie Gou, afraid she would spread it around carelessly on the mountain.
Xie Gou asked, "Why did you think of having a boxing match with Mountain Lord Chen?"
Zhu Lian said, "For the master, it might just be stretching his muscles. For me, I have to go all out. Beyond identity, boxing has two schools. A stone from another mountain can polish jade."
At the gate, two people were tiptoeing away. Guo Zhujiu pounded his fist into his palm. "Old cook's looks aren't bad! Compared to master, the difference is only a hair's breadth!"
The white-haired youth, tagging along beside Alliance Leader Guo, opened his mouth wide. No matter how good the Hidden Origin Ancestor was, to say he could rival that guy in the yard in terms of looks was a bit of a stretch. Even the white-haired youth, as tough as he was, couldn't bring himself to say it.
Lucky, lucky—tonight, by chance, he had glimpsed the old cook's face. The white-haired youth shook his sleeves, marveling. If only the world's debates and boxing matches were about faces.
If someone claimed to be number one in looks, no one would dare to claim number two. If Zhu Lian claimed to be number one, no one would dare to claim number two.
Gao Jun's mood was extremely complicated. She reached her own residence but didn't push open the door. Instead, she walked all the way to the white jade square at the peak of Dusk Color Peak.
It wasn't that she, a cultivator, would fall in love at first sight with "Zhu Lian." But a man could be so ridiculously good-looking—such an unreasonable thing.
She gathered her thoughts, gradually calming her Dao heart. Gao Jun smiled. Though separated by a century of martial world, she never expected to meet a fellow countryman in a foreign land.
Involuntarily, Gao Jun heavily slapped the white jade railing and murmured to herself.
To have seen this countenance—one flower blooms, spring arrives under heaven.
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