Chapter 1067: Senior Brother and Junior Brother

Chapter 1067: Senior Brother and Junior Brother

Within Yingchuan Prefecture, three riders advanced side by side through a snowy day, following a map's instructions as they branched off from a relatively wide official road and turned into a mountain path.

It was around noon, and because the heavy goose-feather snow kept falling without stop, the three's vision was blurred, making the already rugged mountain trail even more difficult to traverse. Fortunately, their mounts were not inferior horses but fine steeds from the capital's Daoist academy, said to be descendants of mountain flood dragons. Although their bloodline was thin, they could cross mountains and rivers as if on flat ground. On this trip, besides their respective travel permits, the most important item was the official document personally written by the Minister of Personnel of their kingdom's capital, signed off by the Guardian True Man, and then verified and approved by the largest Daoist temple in Ruzhou.

The leading rider was a young woman wearing a black gauze cap and a thick, warm green-blue Daoist robe.

She had curved eyebrows and full cheeks, a figure that appeared slender but was actually well-fleshed, riding a light yellow horse.

Her embroidered shoes slightly protruded, lightly touching the golden stirrups.

The two riders behind were a man and a woman. The man rode a black horse, dressed in a simple green Daoist robe, with a bamboo hat on his head and a sword on his back.

The woman was burly, her skin naturally dark, and under the snowy sky it looked even more like charcoal. Yet her attire was gaudy—a rouge-red dress with gold-thread patterns and embroidered phoenixes on the sleeves.

As a maidservant, she was not old, but her figure was overly robust. At her waist hung a simple saber.

She also rode a tall horse, with an old box hanging on each side. One box held clothes, the other books.

There was also a priceless storage item that the young lady had entrusted to her care—a heavy treasure bestowed by the family's grandfather when the young lady entered the Cave Dwelling Realm.

With the storage item, they could travel light on this trip. Besides their slung bags and the two boxes hanging from the saddle, items like foldable stools, food boxes and small tables, as well as bottles and jars, were all stored in the storage item.

The woman coming to Changshe County in Yingchuan to serve as the abbess of a small Daoist temple was named Jian Su. She had just entered the Cave Dwelling Realm last winter and had no Daoist name yet.

Her senior brother, Chai Yu, styled Yuanjia, was at the Observant Sea Realm, with the Daoist name "Shengmo." His ancestral home was not in Nanshan Kingdom, which governed Yingchuan, but in Gulü Kingdom, where the Golden Coffin Sect's temple was located. That kingdom was known for its ancient towering trees and was very famous in Qingming's Ruzhou.

The maidservant Su Cheng, nicknamed Huaqiao, was a true "flower maniac." She excelled at planting various flowers, especially peonies. In the capital, the Jian family's garden was somewhat famous, and half the credit went to Huaqiao.

In the past year, the weather had been strange. First, there was a severe drought last summer, said to be once in five hundred years. The water gods and water immortals of all prefectures complained bitterly. It was said that many river earls had their golden bodies shattered by the scorching sun. Then, in winter, there were continuous heavy snowfalls. Even today, in late spring, snow fell like flowers. Chai Yu adjusted his bamboo hat and raised his hand to shield his mouth, saying, "Junior Sister, next spring, Jade Emperor City will issue Daoist names as usual. When you're at the Changshe County temple, make sure to come up with a few favorite Daoist names. It's best to send them to the capital's family and the sect's ancestral hall before autumn. Both sides can prepare early and scheme for you, trying to guarantee that a name you like gets approved by Jade Emperor City. At least exchange letters once. Take my advice: don't try your luck with names that are too grand—they definitely won't pass. Although each Daoist official can submit three names to Jade Emperor City for reporting, in the fourteen prefectures of Azure, this grand event happens only once every sixty years. Countless Daoist officials in the world pin their hopes on it—millions of them. Three names each adds up to tens of millions of Daoist names. The difficulty of successfully 'petitioning for a title' is unimaginable..."

Jian Su smiled and interrupted her senior brother's rambling, "Petitioning the White Jade Capital's Jade Emperor City for a title is a matter of luck anyway. Not passing is normal; passing is an unexpected joy. If the petition fails, we can just use our own backup Daoist names from Nanshan Kingdom."

Whether a Daoist official in any prefecture had a Daoist name was a dividing line. It meant that the ordained Daoist had found a master, like a commoner coming of age and receiving a courtesy name.

But in Azure Underheaven, getting a Daoist name was not easy.

Each kingdom's court had a dedicated archive for recording Daoist names, updated and supplemented every sixty years.

Because all temples of the fourteen prefectures, all forest monasteries, belonged to White Jade Capital, no Daoist official's name could ever be repeated.

So every sixty years, a grand "seeking the Dao" gathering occurred, like fish crossing a river. If one obtained a Daoist name personally issued with an official document from Jade Emperor City, it was considered "attaining the Dao," a great auspicious omen. Hence, Chai Yu and Jian Su called it "petitioning for a title." Moreover, the Daoist who founded Jade Emperor City was the Great Principal of White Jade Capital, the Dao Ancestor's first disciple, so such a Daoist name carried extraordinary significance.

Thus, Great Principal Kou Ming was like the "head examiner" of this once-in-sixty-years grand Daoist examination.

To compete and reserve Daoist names, at the beginning of spring, the White Jade Capital's Jade Emperor City, which managed the world's Daoist registers, would "open its doors" at midnight. Flying swords carrying messages and colorful talismans, like locust swarms, blocked the sun and sky, swarming in, all to seek early "auspicious" Daoist names for the Daoist officials of their respective kingdoms' temples.

In the fourteen prefectures, many great cultivators of the upper five realms still had no proper Daoist name, all "trying their luck," but after more than ten attempts, they still failed to obtain a title.

Huaqiao reached out to brush snow from her horse's mane and said, "Miss, the Ministry of Rites reserves Daoist names. From White Jade Capital to our Ruzhou, they've always been filtered through the Red Gold Kingdom. Then they might be screened by a few other major kingdoms before finally reaching our Nanshan Kingdom. By then, only about a hundred names are left, all leftovers. Their meanings are mediocre, very ordinary. Some are so obscure and unnatural that they don't even sound like Daoist names. I don't even recognize some characters, and there are even three-character and four-character names—is that proper? The slightly decent ones were already snatched up by the ancestral halls of those two sects, or the largest temples bribed the court and bought them secretly at high prices. The few barely acceptable names left are fiercely fought over."

Seeing that his junior sister was still somewhat distracted, Chai Yu said, "This often causes disputes. Many wealthy clans engage in open and covert struggles over it, leading to discord."

Jian Su reached out to catch a falling snowflake in her palm and murmured, "Aren't Daoist names external things too? Ordinary people fight for fame and profit, which is understandable, but we are Daoists."

Chai Yu shook his head, feeling helpless. He was about to argue, hoping to make his junior sister less naive and more practical.

Jian Su clearly didn't want to argue with her senior brother about this. She already smiled and said, "I know, I know. I'll take it seriously."

Additionally, the Daoist names of all upper-five-realm Daoist officials, even if they had already died and shed their bodies, could never be reused by later generations.

It was said that Principal Lu had long suggested opening up the Daoist names of those Jade Purity realm officials in history.

Rumor had it that this Principal also proposed that certain deceased earth immortals' Daoist names could be sealed and preserved by White Jade Capital for a hundred years.

If later disciples, grand-disciples, or family members of various temples successfully reached the earth immortal realm, they could fill the vacancy and inherit that Daoist name. Before that, the Daoist could follow the normal process and possess a conventional Daoist name, but upon reaching earth immortal status, if they wished to inherit the old name, they could go to White Jade Capital's Jade Emperor City, personally retrieve the temple's founder's or family ancestor's Daoist name. The two names would not conflict; they could have both simultaneously, like literati's pseudonyms or alternative names.

But unfortunately, neither proposal was approved. Everyone in the world knew that the only Daoist in White Jade Capital who could reject Principal Lu's suggestions was Principal Yu.

It was said that on Haoran Underheaven, there were no such strict rules. Only the registered cultivators of major immortal mansions had their Daoist names strictly reported and archived by the Central Plains Confucian Temple.

For registered cultivators of small sects, as long as they didn't publicize it, enjoyed the benefit quietly, didn't boast about it, and avoided taking overly famous "old" Daoist names, it was generally fine. The Confucian Temple academies couldn't manage it all, and local courts were unwilling to interfere. As for so-called wild cultivators of the mountains and marshes, they could take any Daoist name they pleased.

As for the Barren Wasteland Underheaven, it wasn't worth mentioning—it was a lawless place with no rules at all.

The maidservant Huaqiao said worriedly, "Miss, when Hong Miao stepped down, he left a bit of a mess. Regarding that fugitive female ghost who committed crimes, her identity and origins are still undetermined. This ghost hasn't been captured yet, and its whereabouts are unknown. We still need to be careful. Let's stick to courier roads and official roads as much as possible and avoid these mountain paths."

The ancient mountain road was rarely traveled, narrow, and couldn't accommodate carriages. The ruts in the road were mostly hoof prints left by tea, horse, and salt merchants. The road was thick with snow, and if a horse accidentally stepped into a hole, it would limp. Chai Yu adjusted his bamboo hat and nodded, "Huaqiao is right. We still need to be careful."

Jian Su smiled and said, "According to the county records, there's an old abandoned temple in the mountains. Once we've seen it, we'll continue on the official road."

Chai Yu said helplessly, "Junior Sister, if I remember correctly, you said the same thing about the Huangting Temple at the foot of Jicui Peak earlier, and also about the two ancient ruins after that."

In Ruzhou, the biggest famous historic site was the Huangting Temple built at the foot of Jicui Peak. It was a grand temple, revered as the ancestral temple of the Huangting lineage branched off from White Jade Capital's Nanhua City. The enshrined ancestor within was highly virtuous and accomplished—none other than the deputy city lord of Nanhua City. She was respectfully called Lady Wei, with the Daoist name "Zixu," the foremost among female prime lords in Azure Underheaven.

Lady Wei was also one of the ten candidates for the world's most powerful.

Among her direct disciples was a female Daoist with a heaven-granted supernatural power, in charge of the blooming and withering of all flowers in the world. Historical records note that she once "ordered all flowers not to leave the mountain, so that no flowers bloomed in spring in the human world." For this, she almost had Principal Yu personally imprison her in the Misty Grotto of the Town Yue Palace for meditation. It was only due to the Great Principal's intercession, and her subsequent journey with him through all prefectures to return flowers to the human world as atonement, that the punishment was avoided.

Generally, large temples, especially those named "Palace," often preserved many ancient inscriptions, such as records of renovations in certain years, donation inscriptions from worshippers, property records of land yields, or incense records specifically documenting the lineage's heritage. During temple fairs, merchants gathered, shoulder to shoulder. During religious ceremonies, mortals and immortals mingled, with transformed spirits coming together to listen to the Daoist officials' hymns and treasures. Bells and drums sounded in unison, and jade chimes echoed melodiously.

The three riders arrived through the snow at the dilapidated mountain temple. They were all somewhat disappointed. According to the local county records, there was a poem on the wall of the inner hall, an anonymous "Dragon Snake Song" that recorded an immortal tale. It told of a young woodcutter who mistakenly entered this mountain, received immortal techniques through a karmic encounter, waded into water to slay flood dragons and catch dragons, married two immortal maidens, and finally saw through the mortal world in the marketplace. He returned to the mountains with his Daoist partners and built the temple. The temple master was skilled in painting and set up a screen in his own temple, personally painting a herd of horses with brush tips. The horses changed in a thousand postures, vivid and lifelike. Each year, one horse would "leap out" of the screen, becoming a spiritual creature galloping through heaven and earth, while the horse on the screen would fade in color. After a hundred years, all the painted horses had turned into white outlines. The temple master loved to play in the human world, often concealing his name. In various kingdoms' palaces, he would dot the eyes of dragons on dragon walls. During wind and rain, the stone dragons on the walls would shake their bodies and bristle their whiskers, soaring into the sky. Or on noble family's spirit walls or study desks, he would paint eagles and sparrows so lifelike that they seemed real, and only upon touching did one know they were fake. It was said that this immortal once painted a dragon on plain white silk and gave it to a certain last emperor of a fallen dynasty. When the silk was rolled or unrolled, clouds and mist would surround it. Stored in a painting box, it often emitted dull thunder... Eventually, the temple master and his two Daoist partners all ascended as immortals, leaving the empty temple. Passing woodcutters and traveling merchants often reported hearing horses neighing at night on the walls, as if asking for water or fodder from those lodging there...

But when they arrived at the temple, already reduced to ruins, they saw nothing.

Not to mention the screen, even the horse painting on the inner hall wall was covered with axe and chisel marks. Many bricks had been pried away, probably carved into brick inkstones, becoming elegant furnishings on later literati's desks.

Jian Su sighed, "It's a pity it was abandoned like this. It would have been more than enough to build a prefectural temple here."

Chai Yu smiled, "If the county records are true, and the temple master once painted a plain dragon for the former dynasty's emperor, then the founding emperor of Nanshan Kingdom, as the new sovereign, certainly wouldn't want to rebuild the temple here."

They rested briefly in the inner hall, barely sheltering from the snow by the broken walls. Huaqiao took out utensils from the storage item, started a fire, set up a pot to cook, and warmed a flask of yellow wine for Daoist Chai Yu.

Jian Su sat on a small embroidered stool, remembering something, and asked, "What's the specific situation at the Lingjing Temple?"

"Oh, Miss, you finally remember the main business."

The maidservant Huaqiao quickly put down her bowl and chopsticks, pulled out a small booklet from her sleeve, finally having a chance to be useful. It contained content she had meticulously compiled from various sources—item by item, piece by piece, recording everything in detail.

"After the previous abbess Hong Miao left, there are no ordained Daoists left in the temple. Only a few resident Daoists remain. The temple priest is Liu Fang, fifty-three years old, a local. His family has lived near Lingjing Temple for generations, with a clean background. Half of the temple's property is their Liu family's farmland. It seems there's a family precept that each generation of Liu descendants must allocate some 'incense fields' to the temple, whether it's a few mu or a fraction of a mu. The Liu family must do their part."

Jian Su smiled and nodded, "Very thoughtful. When we get there, we'll first settle in at the temple, then visit the Liu family with a decent gift to show our gratitude."

Chai Yu smiled, "Actually, as abbess, Hong Miao never had a Daoist patent. He was only a candidate Daoist official, in the same situation as Huaqiao. Serving as abbess was an exceptional appointment."

Jian Su said, "It wasn't exactly exceptional. After all, old Abbess Hong was a candidate Daoist official at the Observant Sea Realm. Coming to Changshe County to serve as abbess was hardly a good position."

Huaqiao grinned, "Ma Zhong is a distant relative of Liu Fang. He got into Lingjing Temple through connections. In his resignation documents, Hong Miao specifically mentioned one point: this Ma Zhong has a certain chance of cultivating. Of course, Hong Miao's resignation documents also included an appendix that didn't need to be archived with the government—naturally left for the new abbess's reference. It said that in his early years, temple priest Liu Fang had promised Lingjing Temple to allocate two mu of paddy fields and a mountain plot full of persimmon trees. The mountain plot had already been transferred, but the two mu of paddy fields had been delayed for years, suggesting a tendency to renege. Hmph, poor mountains and bad rivers breed ruffians."

"The guest receptionist Chang Geng is a local scholar from a family in decline. When he was young, his family was wealthy. In a few counties of Yingchuan, he was a known playboy, used to a comfortable life. Not skilled in commerce, with high annual expenses and income falling short, he became financially strained as he aged. It's said that Lingjing Temple owed him a debt from early years—a messy dispute involving a substantial amount. The temple had no choice, as it involved a former abbess. After Hong Miao took office, it was hard to pursue the matter, so Chang Geng was allowed to become the guest receptionist. He's been fairly honest and steady over the years."

"Chen Cong, sixteen years old. He's a relative of guest receptionist Chang Geng. They both entered Lingjing Temple in the same year."

"Lin Shu."

"Hmm?"

"Shu—the character with a hand radical plus 'lu' meaning consideration. His family owns three shops in the county town, fairly well-off, considered a prosperous household. His ancestors were local yamen clerks. In recent years, our Nanshan Kingdom heavily cut redundant clerk positions, so Lin Shu's father's generation couldn't continue and turned to business. Now they have good relations with county yamen staff, barely considered local powers—barely."

"Tu Gao. 'Yang Qi all steams, earth cream pulses and moves'—that Tu Gao."

Huaqiao smiled as she said this. Rain urges earth cream to move, ten thousand grasses and thousand flowers bloom in a moment.

Jian Su asked, "Tu Gao? Is that his real name?"

Huaqiao nodded, "It's his real name. But his background is ordinary. His ancestors migrated from another prefecture to Changshe County. They once ran a martial arts school for a few years but soon couldn't sustain it. They probably saved some money, allowing Tu Gao to enter the temple."

Chai Yu smiled, "A rare surname."

Jian Su frowned slightly, the more she heard, the more she felt something was off. "As small as Lingjing Temple is, it's still a legitimate temple recorded by the court and built with local government funds. Becoming a resident Daoist in such a temple doesn't seem like something you can just buy your way into, does it?"

Chai Yu suppressed a smile, "It's not hard to understand. Yingchuan isn't a major prefecture, and Changshe County is the poorest, remote. The temple is probably very poor."

Such situations were actually not uncommon. But his junior sister came from a major clan of a kingdom and had cultivated since childhood, so she naturally didn't understand such local customs.

In a kingdom's prefectures and counties, every household had its own difficulties. Some counties were wealthy, while some prefectures were so poor they could barely open their stoves.

Many prefectures with vast territories might pay less in taxes than a small county elsewhere.

Jian Su asked, "Did Abbess Hong mention in the documents whether he had taught them one or two basic immortal guidance techniques?"

Huaqiao nodded, "Yes, but with poor results. The only one who might be slightly related to being a Daoist official is Ma Zhong."

After all, becoming a Daoist official wasn't easy. Without a cultivation foundation, trying to pass the imperial examinations for a "second-class" Daoist official status and obtain a "turbid-stream" Daoist patent was even harder, requiring higher literary talent.

Jian Su sighed, "Since Abbess Hong didn't take anyone from Lingjing Temple when he stepped down, that says a lot."

Whether someone was a candidate for Daoist official, had cultivation aptitude, or how good their roots were—all temples and major clans had many secret methods to test.

Jian Su asked again, "What are the temperaments of these youths?"

Huaqiao hesitated, then said, "Lazy."

"They're all very lazy. With daily tasks and temple affairs, they shirk as much as possible. Not one of them is diligent."

"Miss, they're unreliable. It's fine—I'll handle daily sweeping and cleaning. If they did it, I wouldn't be at ease."

Chai Yu smiled, "After all, this is a land of fish and rice. There are still many scholarly families with a tradition of farming and reading. There's some literary fortune, but it's scattered, not gathered."

Chai Yu then transmitted his thoughts, "Hong Miao and the later-arrived Tan Sou handled things rather skillfully. Especially after Tan Sou's feng shui appraisal, there should be no major problems in Changshe County. At least near the temple, it's stable."

Huaqiao grinned, "I heard Tan Sou entered the Cave Dwelling Realm at thirty. Far behind our miss—not much of a genius."

Chai Yu shook his head, "The Tan family has deep foundations. They're a true prefectural-level prominent clan. Tan Sou, as the heir chosen by the family head, is certainly not as simple as she appears. You can't judge only by realm."

Chai Yu clearly remembered that when the Tan family head once visited the Golden Coffin Sect, the sect's founding master, who disliked social niceties the most, personally greeted her at the mountain gate. Moreover, the Tan family's most famous asset was a private ritual altar. This was extremely rare in the vast Ruzhou, where there were no more than twenty ritual altars with private ordination qualifications.

Jian Su said, "Huaqiao, you can buy a house in Changshe County town when the time comes. I'll visit you when I have free time."

As the abbess of a temple, she could decide the fate of the resident Daoists.

Not to mention her position as abbess, a formally ordained Daoist was as different from a resident Daoist who wasn't even a candidate official as an official in a yamen was from a clerk—like clouds and mud.

But Jian Su felt there was no need to enforce strict new rules as a new official. She preferred to keep the temple as it was. She would focus on reading and cultivating, and they could continue to idle away their days. No need for upheaval.

Huaqiao immediately became anxious. She hurriedly advised her miss, "Miss, without me by your side, no one to serve you properly—how can that be? Absolutely not! Besides, in Lingjing Temple, you're the only woman, and you're so beautiful. Those lazy fellows in the temple, though useless, are just at the age of hot-blooded recklessness. Who knows what despicable acts they might commit if they lose their senses? You're a cultivator, of course you're not afraid of them causing trouble, but daily life will still be inconvenient—bathing, using the toilet, washing and drying clothes..."

Chai Yu immediately nodded in agreement, "Huaqiao makes sense. Men and women differ. It's best to let Huaqiao stay as a visiting cultivator at Lingjing Temple. Just give some money; the county yamen won't bother about such trifles."

Although he wasn't worried about any... competitors in the temple, just thinking about those greenhorns staring fixedly at women's clothes drying on bamboo poles made Chai Yu, as the senior brother, very uncomfortable.

No, when they arrived, he would have to make those local lads understand the difference between mortals and immortals.

Jian Su teased, "You can only blame yourself. If you had a proper Daoist official status, I could take you with me to serve as something like a lecturer. But you, from childhood, fall asleep as soon as you open a book. Others read; you just drool all over the pages. If you weren't so slow, you'd have obtained an ordination patent long ago instead of still being a candidate official. If you put half the effort you spend on gardening and martial arts into memorizing texts, you'd have passed long ago."

The former abbess of Lingjing Temple, Hong Miao, belonged to that category—his realm was sufficient, but he couldn't pass the final assessment, never obtaining an official patent from the court.

Huaqiao said quietly, "If it really doesn't work, I could buy a private ordination patent from a ritual altar. Miss, rest assured, I've saved some money. I can pay for it myself..."

Jian Su glared, "You're still a candidate official, only one exam away from the capital's Daoist academy! How can you give up so close to the finish line? Can't you have some ambition?! Let me be clear: when we get to Changshe County, you will continue to study honestly. No slacking off. I'll check your homework every month. If you fail twice in a row, you're going straight back to the capital. Not even Grandfather will be able to beg for mercy!"

Obtaining a private ordination from a certain family's ritual altar and receiving a patent was considered "heterodox" in Azure Underheaven, but it was actually very common across the fourteen prefectures.

Moreover, many peak cultivators and high-ranking Daoist officials in history had established their own schools, built ritual altars, and passed down lineages that continued to this day.

Tan Sou's family, the prominent Tan clan of Xinmi Prefecture, was among them, possessing a private ritual altar.

So in Azure Underheaven, there was a saying that could be taken seriously or not: "Better to offend a sect's direct disciple than to make an enemy of a ritual altar's family."

Because without exception, the "ancestors" of private ritual altars had once been wealthy—and not just ordinary wealthy—at least starting from the Jade Purity realm.

Some unique cultivators, even after reaching the earth immortal realm or even the upper five realms, remained private ordained Daoists.

Although the patents issued by various family altars would never be recognized by White Jade Capital, White Jade Capital deliberately turned a blind eye. That is, these endless private ordained Daoists, because their status was illegitimate, could not serve as pure-stream officials in court or hold any position in official temples. But when traveling, calling themselves Daoists was still no problem. As long as they presented that patent, they could generally travel freely in the fourteen prefectures. However, if they encountered certain kingdoms that strictly prohibited private ordination and regarded all family altars as rebellious, these "illegitimate" Daoist officials would have to take detours.

In history, the largest private ordination altar was... the Rice Bandits of Yanzhou!

But this had become a taboo topic among all Daoist officials in Azure Underheaven.

Huaqiao made a bitter face.

She shouldn't have brought up private ordination.

Huaqiao wanted to say something but hesitated.

Chai Yu flipped through the booklet, which recorded various matters in an orderly fashion. Despite Su Cheng's... rugged appearance, she was actually very meticulous.

The reason she was wearing such bright red recently was unavoidable. In busy markets, she was often asked for directions or approached by passersby who would address her as "this strong fellow"...

Huaqiao complained, "Miss, the incense offerings at Lingjing Temple in Changshe County... are practically nonexistent! It's really poor! If it hadn't been renovated two years ago, when we go there, we'd be living on nothing but wind—literally! A heavy snow collapsed several rooms. Hong Miao had to beg and plead to the local gentry for donations. But the neighboring temple in Xu County? Not so strapped. Last year, they even expanded by several mu with a new Lingguan Hall and lecture hall. It's really disheartening to compare!"

Generally, temples had property income, and sermons and rituals brought incense donations. With many devotees, temples never lacked money. Some abbesses, if somewhat famous, could also serve as masters, giving the temple its own lineage. But Lingjing Temple in Changshe County had nothing—lacked everything!

If not for the renovation under Hong Miao, the temple hadn't had a single tile added in perhaps two or three hundred years since a benefactor's restoration in early times.

Jian Su couldn't help but laugh, "Look at it this way. When this remote temple called Lingjing was first built, it was truly sturdy. The craftsmen back then certainly didn't cut corners, did they?"

Chai Yu sipped his wine. Indeed, his junior sister's heart was big.

Jian Su said, "Isn't that good? No need to entertain visitors—peaceful and quiet."

This trip away from the capital was precisely to seek peace and quiet.

Otherwise, with her family background and cultivation talent, if she wanted to go to a royal temple with an imperial-bestowed mountain title, enshrining scriptures personally copied by the emperor and empress dowager, becoming abbess in one step was a pipe dream. Even filling a vacancy for a prominent position was somewhat difficult. But if her great-grandfather was willing to use his influence in the Ministry of Personnel, plus the Golden Coffin Sect's added support, for Jian Su to secure a "leisurely, comfortable" position in a major prefecture's official temple without real power would be effortless.

Chai Yu remembered something. For some reason, it seemed that in recent days, larger temples in various kingdoms, down to the prefectural level, were all expanding their Lingguan Halls with great fervor.

"The snow has stopped."

Jian Su said, "Then let's continue. We'll try to reach Xu County, next to Changshe County, before dusk and find an inn to rest. Tomorrow morning, we'll visit the temple in Xu County first, then head to Lingjing Temple."

Along the central axis of temples in various places, the architecture was similar. After the mountain gate came the Lingguan Hall, then the main hall enshrining an image of the Dao Ancestor and the three Great Principals of White Jade Capital, and so on. However, descendant temples differed slightly from forest monasteries. In the former, the ancestral hall often replaced the Principals' portraits with the "founding surname" ancestor of the temple. But the side halls on east and west varied greatly among kingdoms, often enshrining different Daoist deities and immortals: Wenchang Hall, Medicine King Hall, Thunder Department Heavenly Officials, Dragon King Hall, Marriage Temple, Civil and Martial Wealth Gods, and so on.

Chai Yu pulled out several pouches. "Junior Sister, take these. You'll need them later. Among them, the face mask I obtained from a female martial artist from Crow Mountain. She once passed through our sect's territory, and I happened to meet her. According to Crow Mountain's seniority, her master's master is Lady Qi."

One pouch of gold leaves, one pouch of silver pieces, plus a finely crafted "face mask."

Before this trip, his junior sister had rarely handled gold or silver in her life.

Jian Su smiled, "I'll accept the gold and silver. As for the face mask, forget it. I'm not a wandering martial artist. Am I really that shameful to show?"

Chai Yu smiled faintly, "It can save you a lot of unnecessary trouble."

Huaqiao exclaimed in wonder, "Lady Qi! A Stopping Realm martial artist! She's one of our Teacher Lin's second disciples!"

Throughout Ruzhou, whether Daoist or martial artist, mountain or commoner, everyone prided themselves on having a "Teacher Lin."

This stalwart maid was always like this—hearing about strange tales of various immortals made her drowsy, but when talk turned to martial arts grandmasters of Ruzhou, she perked up.

Jian Su exited the dilapidated temple and turned to make a Daoist bow.

They descended the mountain and reached the official road. The three rode swiftly to Xu County, where they found an inn to stay.

The county yamen of Changshe had already received official notice from Yingchuan Prefecture that the new abbess of Lingjing Temple would arrive today to assume her post.

The county magistrate, Magistrate Han, had to be a Daoist official by background, but his relationship with Lingjing Temple had always been lukewarm, with almost no interaction.

This was mainly because the former abbess Hong Miao, as a candidate Daoist official, had never visited the county yamen in all his years as abbess. This secretly irked Magistrate Han. If a candidate official doesn't come to pay respects, should I, as magistrate, go to Lingjing Temple to see him? That's not the custom!

Because it was said the new abbess, Jian Su, came from a high-ranking capital family and was very young. Generally, such Daoist officials came to the provinces to "gild their resumes" and would transfer elsewhere in a few years. Local officials knew this well and didn't want to sour relations. So this time, the Changshe county yamen gave Lingjing Temple some face by sending both the Assistant Magistrate and the County Commandant simultaneously. These positions, unlike clerks, were registered with the Ministry of Personnel and required a candidate Daoist official background. In larger counties, without sufficient family background, one couldn't even become Assistant Magistrate or County Commandant. Early that morning, two distinguished guests arrived at Lingjing Temple. If memory served, it might have been their first time setting foot inside.

It got cold when snow melted, but didn't when it was snowing. Another heavy snow had fallen yesterday. That morning, the youths in the temple were shivering like quails, heads drooping, hands in sleeves, stomping their feet.

With two high-ranking yamen officials present, the youths didn't dare bring out charcoal braziers to warm themselves.

Lin Shu thought it a rare opportunity. He braced himself, stepped up to the guest hall entrance, and boldly shouted "Uncle Huang" to the County Commandant sitting by the fire inside.

The County Commandant was bewildered. Where did this relative come from?

The Assistant Magistrate, however, stroked his beard and smiled. "You must be Manager Lin's son. Good, good. Now you're a resident Daoist here. Keep it up, study hard, and strive to become a candidate official. That would bring glory to your family."

Lin Shu's face flushed with excitement. He hadn't expected the Assistant Magistrate to recognize him. He wisely didn't disturb the official's rest, replied softly, bowed, and retreated to the corridor under the eaves. The youth felt warm all over.

Seeing that Lin Shu could even chat with the Assistant Magistrate, Ma Zhong and Tu Gao were envious. Tu Gao quickly squeezed next to Lin Shu and whispered questions.

Lin Shu asked, "Where's that Chen Cong fellow?" Ma Zhong replied irritably, "Crafty as ever. He waited a while, then slipped off to warm himself in Uncle Chang's room."

The two officials drank tea in the room, but on duty, they couldn't drink alcohol.

By noon, they still hadn't seen the new abbess. They began to mutter. Could she have gone straight to the county yamen to pay respects? Unlikely. If so, since they both were loyal confidants of Magistrate Han, surely a clerk would have informed them. Then she must still be on the road to the temple? Lingjing Temple was too small, and the guest receptionist Chang Geng doubled as cook. When mealtime came, the old man quickly prepared lunch with a few extra dishes. The officials picked at their food and then moved back to the guest hall to await the new abbess, said to be from an excellent background. Young, but with quite an air. Right, no matter how small the temple, being an abbess required real ability, not just a good family.

From early morning until almost dark, the new abbess never appeared. Even the best patience wears thin.

Chang Geng boiled water again and again, changing tea leaves repeatedly. If the two yamen officials kept drinking like this, with the temple's meager resources, they'd soon be down to plain water.

The County Commandant frowned, picked up iron tongs to stir the charcoal, and said quietly, "This is infuriating. Elder Brother Qin, what do we make of it? Just because she's from the capital, does she think she can disregard all rules?"

The old man said calmly, "Let's wait another half hour. If she doesn't show by then, we leave. We're not going to wait on her hand and foot. If she wants to come to the county yamen later, let her try."

At dusk, the temple priest Liu Fang and guest receptionist Chang Geng stood in the corridor outside the guest hall, chatting casually. Liu Fang mentioned that Yang Mazi's family had just slaughtered a pig—not too lean, nearly two hundred catties with the hide. "When you have time, we brothers should have a few drinks."

Chang Geng rubbed his hands and nodded eagerly. "That sounds great, sounds great."

He glanced at the two officials' grim faces inside and shook his head. "Same old story. It's going to be tough."

Abbess Hong was never good at networking, but at least Lingjing Temple and the county yamen maintained surface politeness. Now, this new abbess hadn't even shown her face and had already thoroughly slapped the entire county yamen in the face. How would they get along in the future?

Old Chang grinned. "Good thing Magistrate Han didn't come today."

Liu Fang sighed heavily. "Our temple is going to be wearing little shoes from now on. The new abbess doesn't have to worry about that, but we resident Daoists caught in the middle will suffer."

The relationship between a temple and the local government usually leaned on the temple relying on the government. Many poor temples that couldn't sustain themselves on incense offerings depended on county yamen funding. Whether the money came or not, how much, was all about connections. Unfortunately, Lingjing Temple was in that category.

A horse won't get fat without night feed. Under Hong Miao, it was the guest receptionist Chang Geng who, as a behind-the-scenes advisor, figured out how to ensure the temple could at least issue two Daoist robes per year—one for winter, one for summer—to the youths. Otherwise, with only incense money? The last fundraising for temple renovations was done by Old Chang going out to coordinate. That was probably why Hong Miao, in his evaluations of resident Daoists, described Chang Geng as "honest and steady" as a token of gratitude.

As Chen Cong put it, if a devotever tossed two copper coins into the donation box, it was like a thunderclap.

In Liu Fang's eyes, Chen Cong was lazy but clever, and his chatter was amusing and helped pass the time.

The youth looked honest and simple but was actually quite sly, full of ideas. He had even once advised Abbess Hong, "Better to rely on yourself than on others. Our temple's incense is weak—why don't you try offering high incense?"

In the twilight, the hill where Lingjing Temple sat was an unremarkable mound, but the old locust trees lining the road had some presence.

At the foot of the hill, the three dismounted together. Jian Su led her horse and looked up with a smile. "The temple's scenery is much better than I imagined."

Huaqiao sighed helplessly. "Miss is too easygoing."

Chai Yu crouched down, wiped away the thick snow on the road, grabbed a handful of soil, rubbed it between his fingers, and sniffed. He nodded. The soil and water here were acceptable.

Huaqiao wasn't surprised. Her miss's senior brother Chai was actually a good match for her in family status, but her miss didn't seem to have any feelings for him.

At the temple, the two yamen officials were about to head home, full of pent-up anger. But as they stepped out, they saw three strangers approaching.

Lin Shu's eyes lit up. Just by their positions, he guessed that the new abbess was the young, beautiful... sister in the middle?!

She was their new abbess?! The youth suddenly felt life had meaning. With such a beautiful woman around daily, he would definitely take morning and evening lessons seriously!

Tu Gao asked curiously, "Which one is the abbess?"

Ma Zhong stared blankly at the fairy who seemed to have stepped out of a New Year painting.

Chen Cong quickly scanned their attire. Oh, those three horses were impressive—you wouldn't see them in the county town!

Jian Su handed the reins to her maid, made a Daoist bow to the group, and said, "Jian Su, the new abbess of Lingjing Temple, greets all fellow Daoists."

Chai Yu thought about introducing himself but decided against it. As a seventh-generation disciple of the Golden Coffin Sect and an ordained official from the ancestral hall, he still carried weight in local prefectures.

The maidservant Huaqiao deliberately put on a fierce expression, scanning the youths. Good—they were all outsiders with turbid breathing. They probably had the heart but not the courage.

Lingjing Temple wasn't a hereditary descendant temple; it could open its doors to traveling Daoists from all directions. But it was so poor that no outsider would bother them, suffering from hunger and staring at each other in vain.

Chai Yu planned to stay for a while. After all, his ostensible reason for leaving the mountain was to travel and accompany his junior sister on part of her journey.

Guest receptionist Chang Geng quickly returned a proper bow, pulling the temple priest beside him. "Guest receptionist Chang Geng and temple priest Liu Fang welcome Abbess Jian. These two gentlemen are our Changshe County's Assistant Magistrate Qin and County Commandant Huang. They arrived at our temple at the hour of Chen to await you. Growing anxious, Assistant Magistrate Qin, seeing the late hour, suggested they wait outside. The temple is small, and once it gets dark, if no one says a word, Abbess Jian might have trouble finding her way."

Seeing the graceful young female Daoist, the two officials' anger vanished instantly.

Chang Geng's polite words were also pleasing.

This tiny Lingjing Temple had talent. They would visit often in the future to drink tea and discuss Dao with Abbess Jian.

Chang Geng's cooking wasn't bad either. They would ask the county yamen's household office to send some seasonal vegetables to the temple. A distant relative isn't as good as a near neighbor. Shouldn't the county yamen support Lingjing Temple's incense?

Jian Su smiled apologetically. "Jian Su has no Daoist name yet. Greetings, Assistant Magistrate Qin, County Commandant Huang. I apologize for keeping you waiting, but I am honored. This is the official document. Please review it."

She took the document from her sleeve and handed it to the two yamen officials.

Assistant Magistrate Qin took it, squinted in the dim light, and scanned it. He nodded. "Confirmed. On behalf of Changshe County yamen, I welcome Abbess Jian to her post."

The document clearly stated the date by which she had to arrive at Lingjing Temple. But Jian Su hadn't expected the county yamen to send two officials to greet her at the temple, nor that they would be waiting from early morning.

After a moment's thought, she smiled. "By rights, as a newcomer, I should have visited the county yamen to pay my respects to everyone."

She transmitted her thoughts to Huaqiao: "Watch how I talk to them. If needed, ride ahead to the county town and find a decent restaurant."

Chai Yu had done this intentionally. Ultimately, he hoped his junior sister would return to the sect for cultivation. If she insisted on tempering her heart in the mortal world, she should at least choose a major temple close to the sect.

The Golden Coffin Sect ranked among the top three temples in the kingdom, but in recent years, it had been squeezed hard by the two leading sects. If placed across all of Ruzhou, it was barely a third-rate immortal mansion. Daoist officials across the continent might have "heard of" the Golden Coffin Sect in Nanshan Kingdom, but probably couldn't recall the name or Daoist name of its master. At most, they'd say, "Oh, that sect that produces quality timber." The other two sects, strictly speaking, weren't native to Nanshan Kingdom. They had vassal peaks outside their ancestral mountains, bordering Nanshan Kingdom, and the emperor treated them as honored guests. Meanwhile, the "native-born" Golden Coffin Sect's master hadn't even become the Guardian True Man. It wasn't that the Nanshan court was unwilling to support the Golden Coffin Sect, but it was difficult to antagonize the two behemoths lying "next to the bed" of the kingdom.

These inside stories never concerned his junior sister. Even if she heard them, they went in one ear and out the other. But Chai Yu, as a disciple of the Golden Coffin Sect's current disciplinarian, was deeply valued by his grandmaster and loved by his master. Once he reached the Dragon Gate Realm, they planned to appoint him as a Vice Minister in the Ministry of Rites. After gaining some experience in officialdom, if he showed signs of forming a golden core, he would immediately return to the mountain to seclude. If he formed the golden core, at the same ceremony as opening a new peak, he could take charge of the Ministry of Works.

The two officials declined Abbess Jian's dinner invitation, saying they needed to return to the county yamen immediately to inform Magistrate Han. Certain procedures required processing through various offices.

Jian Su saw them off to the foot of the hill. The temple was indeed simple, not even having a mountain gate or archway.

There was no stable, but temple priest Liu Fang said his village at the foot of the hill had a place to tend the horses. Huaqiao, worried, went along to lead the horses.

Hearing that the abbess had already eaten dinner, guest receptionist Old Chang secretly sighed in relief. The noon meal had eaten into the temple's meager reserves, originally prepared as a welcome banquet for the new abbess. But the officials, in a bad mood, barely touched the food, leaving it for the little rascals who pounced on it once the officials left the dining hall. Even old Liu Fang had eaten his fill, leaving the table with a burp, walking slowly to the guest hall, picking meat fibers from his teeth—a meal almost like New Year's.

Old Chang led the new abbess to a room. Worried she might feel uncomfortable, he emphasized that the bedding, basin, and other items were newly purchased from the county town.

Jian Su smiled and thanked the meticulous old man. She had a good impression of this guest receptionist—honest and steady, observant without being oily.

The old man stood by the door the whole time. Only when Jian Su sat down on an official's hat chair did he take his leave, carefully closing the door behind him.

Jian Su stretched. Compared to the capital's family and the sect's temple, everything here was new.

An ancestor was said to have been a legendary Nascent Soul immortal. Her great-grandfather, the current patriarch, was a Golden Core earth immortal. But with his realm, as he himself said, he had exhausted his energy and was at the end of his rope. Forget the Nascent Soul—even the second floor of the Golden Core's three levels was beyond him for life. Outsiders praised him as a young Golden Core, but he called himself an old Golden Core.

Nevertheless, becoming a Golden Core earth immortal made her great-grandfather the undeniable revival patriarch of the family. Although there was a Nascent Soul ancestor, the Jian family still wasn't a hereditary, aristocratic clan. That was because the ancestor's path to enlightenment was shrouded in mystery, with some unspoken secrets not recorded in family registers or biographies. In Nanshan Kingdom, whether in the middle five realms, forming a golden core, or even reaching the Nascent Soul, that ancestor never truly focused on establishing a sect or expanding in officialdom. He just cultivated behind closed doors, took few disciples, and when he silently passed away, the Jian family, never having formed a real climate, quickly declined. Only when Jian Su's great-grandfather, a rare genius, successfully formed a golden core through an indecipherable family transmission did the family revive. Her grandfather and two granduncles gradually obtained Daoist offices, and the Jian family established a foothold in the Nanshan court.

But by her father's generation, a gap appeared. None of the branch descendants had cultivation aptitude, and none became Daoists.

Only with Jian Su did this embarrassment change. The family could hold its head high again.

But regardless of gender, aristocratic children couldn't avoid marriage when of age. The Jian family prided itself on being a scholarly family, and Jian Su's parents didn't want to be seen as currying favor with the powerful. But reasonable marriage alliances were unavoidable. Coupled with Jian Su's excellent cultivation talent, her parents weren't anxious, but the elders in the family ancestral hall had some ideas. They wanted to find her a good match—not only the capital's elite who were formal Daoists, but also her fellow disciple Chai Yu from the Golden Coffin Sect, a perfect match right before their eyes.

So when Jian Su volunteered to go to a distant post and finally chose Lingjing Temple in Changshe County, Yingchuan Prefecture, as abbess, Senior Brother Chai Yu openly followed her.

Actually, for someone so young to become abbess of an official temple—regardless of how shabby Lingjing Temple was—just the Jian family's connections weren't enough. The family patriarch disliked official dealings, so the Golden Coffin Sect's ancestral hall secretly exerted influence. In fact, any official abbess appointment in Nanshan Kingdom's official temples was a contest between the Golden Coffin Sect and the other two sects.

Jian Su was only nineteen, not yet twenty, and already at the Cave Dwelling Realm, having successfully entered the middle five realms—like a carp leaping over the first Dragon Gate.

Moreover, she was exceptionally intelligent. From childhood, she had read through the family's library. The dozen rare Daoist texts not widely circulated, she often had unique insights on from a young age.

So at fourteen, she passed the capital's Daoist exam with high honors, causing quite a stir in the capital.

To draw a comparison, among mortals, it was like someone passing the imperial examination for a doctorate at fourteen and placing among the top three.

Unfortunately, her cultivation progress was still a bit slow. Compared to true "Dao seeds" on the mountain, she fell short.

Otherwise, the number of marriage proposals to the Jian family would have been even greater, likely breaking down the threshold.

Having an earth immortal in the family had one advantage: descendants were broad-minded. The more accomplished, the less arrogant.

Jian Su stood up, hung a scroll on the wall—a portrait of a middle-aged Daoist wearing a distant-travel cap, sitting cross-legged on a cushion.

Inscribed on the painting was a cinnabar-written poem, ending with eight characters meaning something like "Leave the realm, forget in meditation; honestly cultivate the Dao."

The signature was Azure Mist True Man. That was the Daoist name of Jian Su's family's Nascent Soul ancestor.

What a beautiful Daoist name.

But Jian Su had checked the Ministry of Rites archives. No such Daoist official ever existed in Nanshan Kingdom's history.

However, the Daoist official currently holding that name was famous—like thunder in her ears. He was a Celestial Immortal Daoist from the Hongnong Yang clan in Youzhou.

Hearing the door push open, Jian Su withdrew her gaze. It was Huaqiao returning to the temple. The burly maid skillfully took out brushes, ink, paper, inkstone, water holder, brush rest, bamboo wrist rest, and other scholarly items, placing them on the table. Dozens of Daoist texts from book boxes and baskets were also set on the table, along with a full set of porcelain tea utensils and some precious mountain-made letter paper—the "beauty" of papers, unaffordable for ordinary wealthy people, not necessarily due to cost but because they were hard to find.

A set of polychrome floral nine-compartment dish sets for fruits and nuts.

Luckily, the room wasn't large, and the desk by the window was quite big.

The maid even took out pre-prepared hammer and nails, noisily selecting positions on the wall to hang vases for flowers. The half-moon wall vase design was specifically for hanging on walls.

Despite her large stature, Huaqiao was dexterous. The sachets she embroidered were favorites among the Jian family women.

On the table was an old inkstone, close to a celadon wall vase, with the inscription "When the vase flowers fall, the ink fragrance returns to the characters."

Abruptly wealthy nouveau riche families and scholarly book-reading families each had their own decorative styles.

Huaqiao stepped back a few paces, looked at the wall vase, then leaned close to the wall to adjust it. She muttered, "Miss, tomorrow I'll go to the county town and get you new bedding for summer and winter, mosquito nets, this bed is too small. Why don't I commission a custom bed from a skilled carpenter? I'll keep my promise and not reveal martial arts or family techniques here. I'll hire a cart to the foot of the hill at dusk, then carry it up myself. It's just a short mountain path—I'll climb over the wall, no one will know!"

"No need. I'm not here for a spring outing. Didn't Grandfather always say, 'If you're a Daoist, who else should be poor if not you?'"

Jian Su smiled and shook her head. "Besides, if you carry such a big bed up the hill, how do you get it into the room?"

Looking at the items on the table, Jian Su laughed at herself. "This isn't exactly poverty. I might as well be hiding away to enjoy comfort."

Huaqiao glanced under the desk and transmitted, "Hong Miao said there's a family talisman from Tan Sou secretly pasted under the desk, lasting for months. Miss?"

Jian Su transmitted back, "Better safe than sorry. Keep the talisman."

She sighed softly. Where outside is there not officialdom?

This favor was owed. And she couldn't refuse it.

Huaqiao nodded, a bit frustrated. "Miss, I've seen those youths—Lin Shu and the others. Their eyes are shifty. When they look at you, it's like charcoal fire in their eyes."

Jian Su smiled. "You knew that?"

Huaqiao suddenly remembered a face. "Especially that youth named Chen Cong. He looks fairly decent, but his eyes are sly, hiding many thoughts."

Jian Su teased, "Harboring evil intentions?"

Huaqiao shook her head. "No, not that. He's the only one who doesn't seem like a lecher reincarnated. He pays more attention to your clothes and accessories."

Jian Su dismissed it with a laugh.

Huaqiao said seriously, "Miss, the human heart is hard to fathom. We need to guard against others not because we want to harm them, but because we must protect ourselves. If there are those who are attracted by appearance, there are certainly those who are attracted by wealth."

Jian Su smiled casually. "Oh? So the youth is a money-grubber? Then you two should have a lot to talk about."

Huaqiao rolled her eyes. "Look at his thin arms and legs, shivering in the cold. If I walk past him a little fast, I might create a draft that blows him over."

Jian Su suppressed a laugh. "Then take it easy."

Huaqiao was a naturally strong martial arts prodigy, but the Jian family had neither a martial arts master as a family retainer nor suitable martial arts manuals for her. Her great-grandfather felt guilty about this. He often said that if only Huaqiao could have gone to Crow Mountain in the Red Gold Kingdom as a child to try her luck—but she came to their family after ten, too late for martial arts. Or if she had been placed in a top sect like Bingjie Mountain, she might have achieved great things.

There was only one chair. Jian Su let Huaqiao sit while she sat on the edge of the bed, hands supporting her on the mattress. "Don't dawdle. Go quickly to the county town, find an inn, and buy a house."

Huaqiao, who seemed to fill the chair entirely, asked tentatively, "Miss, you really won't let me stay in the temple? I asked. Temple priest Liu Fang has a room he doesn't use often. I could rent it from him."

Seeing her pitiful look, Jian Su softened. But before she could say anything, Huaqiao laughed. "Miss, I've already agreed on a price with Liu Fang! I'll go fix up that room right now!"

Senior Brother Chai's advice was indeed a brilliant strategy!

Jian Su sighed helplessly. "Fine."

Though they were mistress and maid, they were like sisters.

Huaqiao beamed. "Miss, want to chat a bit more?"

Jian Su nodded.

Huaqiao pulled out a book from the pile. She didn't like reading, but this Daoist text held treasures.

Jian Su, watching her gentle movements, couldn't help teasing. "Meeting your lover again? Isn't it 'a day apart feels like three years'?"

Huaqiao grinned. "I'm not worthy of him, miss... To be honest, you're not worthy either."

Jian Su nodded. "That's certain."

Huaqiao took two "pages" from the book—clippings from two landscape gazettes.

The Jian family wasn't one of the capital's most wealthy and powerful, so they carefully preserved every costly landscape gazette. Huaqiao had asked her miss's help to collect these two pages. As for "lover," that was just her miss teasing her, because both gazettes featured the same pure martial artist.

From another world.

His name was Cao Ci.

One gazette told of how he broke through realms and defeated enemies at a place called Fuyao Continent in Haoran Underheaven. The second told of his triumph in the White-Green Dispute of the Central Plains Confucian Temple.

He won again!

This was somewhat related to Ruzhou's flourishing martial arts. Rumors of this Cao Ci circulated on the mountains. In other prefectures, only those at the peaks would have heard of him.

But such a distant figure was truly far away for Huaqiao.

In her eyes, Cao Ci of Haoran was unattainable, like the city lords of White Jade Capital's five cities and twelve towers.

Perhaps due to first impressions, she had a bad impression of another peer of Cao Ci's—accurate to say, very bad.

Lost again and again—how could he still shamelessly pester Cao Ci? If she ever saw this thick-skinned fellow, humph, she wouldn't even address him as "Master Chen"!

Huaqiao began muttering again. "Miss, can you imagine? Cao Ci is just over forty years old, and he's already a Stopping Realm grandmaster."

"Calling him the second Teacher Lin isn't too much, is it?"

"The gazette says Cao Ci has never lost a single fight, and he'll never lose to anyone in the future."

Hearing this, Jian Su laughed. "Doesn't he have a master? Haven't they sparred? If there's sparring, teaching, there must be wins and losses, right?"

Huaqiao's eyes widened, blank. She shook her head gloomily. "How would I know about their teaching sessions? Anyway, everyone says Cao Ci never lost."

Jian Su smiled slyly. "I heard there's a peer surnamed Chen who lost several boxing matches, but in their latest bout, he beat Cao Ci's face so badly it swelled?"

Huaqiao snapped angrily, "Pah! Someone without martial virtue like him, how is he fit to be called a martial grandmaster?!"

Jian Su teased, "If you ever see that Chen Yiguan, dare you curse him to his face?"

Huaqiao's anger deflated. She said dejectedly, "Of course... I wouldn't dare."

That Chen fellow, besides being a young Stopping Realm martial artist, was one of the ten young masters of several worlds. Chen Eleven? And he seemed to be an official, Chen Yiguan?

Hmph, flashy and hollow. Look at our Cao Ci—just Cao Ci. Does he have nicknames or titles?

Just the name Cao Ci is enough.

Thinking this, Huaqiao brightened.

As night deepened, with nothing to do, Chai Yu carried a money bag filled with nine imperial coins selected from the national treasury.

Opening the bag's knot, he spread his five fingers, and nine coins sprang out—various types of "mother" coins with auspicious reign names, each representing a period of national prosperity and peace. In his robe sleeve was another bag containing several coins carved from snow-white ivory. But there was no need for such fanfare tonight. He only planned to inspect the temple's surroundings to be safe.

These treasures came from his family line.

Chai Yu's ancestral home wasn't Nanshan Kingdom but a vassal kingdom bordering the Red Gold Kingdom. There, the court had an official position called Coin Law Vice Minister, managing coin casting at the Stellar Spring Bureau and Precious Source Bureau. Both the Ministry of Works and the Ministry of Revenue had such positions, usually held by their Right Vice Ministers. Occasionally, a department director served as Coin Law Hall chief, usually a sign of impending promotion. Some large prefectures also set up coin casting bureaus, leveraging local resources, with officials dispatched from the two ministries to oversee production. Relatively, the Coin Law Vice Minister in the Ministry of Works had more authority. The coins they cast circulated throughout the kingdom and even neighboring states. In Chai Yu's homeland, whenever the court changed a reign name, a skilled imperial Daoist would carve a coin pattern from ivory and submit it to the Ministry of Works for appraisal. Then they would carve a "grandfather coin," then a "mother coin." Even the mother coins had a beauty far surpassing ordinary circulating coins. As for the grandfather coins, especially those carved from ivory, each was carefully recorded, numbered, and sealed in the imperial treasury, never to be leaked. Chai Yu possessed these treasures because his ancestors served as Ministers and Vice Ministers of Works, and his family owned several forbidden texts treasured in secret. One was a "Book of Rites, Earth Official" chapter, discussing such taboo content as measuring earth veins with earthen sundials and building royal cities in the earth's center.

Thus, Chai Yu's family had deep scholarly roots, and almost all family Daoists had an innate intuition for metals and earth veins.

Ma Zhong and Tu Gao found it interesting. Chai Yu didn't stop them as the two rustic youths watched from a distance as he repeatedly scattered coins on the ground and picked them up.

Behind the small temple, near the vegetable garden, was a dry well.

Chai Yu had put away the nine mother coins. He took a talisman from his sleeve. The two youths were startled as the Daoist lightly blew on it, and the yellow paper talisman instantly ignited, glowing like a lantern, illuminating the entire vegetable garden.

Chai Yu stood by the well, raised his arm with the talisman, and looked down. Not too deep—just some snow at the bottom.

He pinched the talisman between two fingers, murmured a spell, and finally tossed it into the well. The talisman sped like an arrow into the snow at the bottom, the flame spreading like a slender fire dragon hanging in the well.

Nothing unusual.

To be safe, Chai Yu waited until the talisman at the bottom burned out. He circled the well, took out a golden rope from his sleeve, and then a miniature copper coin sword, barely over a foot long. He tied it to one end of the golden rope, intending to lower the sword into the well.

If any dark creature lurked there, seeing this sword would be like a grave ghost suddenly encountering the blazing sun.

He couldn't say the sword would slay demons on the spot, but driving it out of the well would be easy.

Chai Yu decided to give each of the youths a relatively ordinary copper coin before leaving the temple.

If they knew enough to find an immortal ferry or a large county temple and sell them, they'd get a considerable windfall.

Tu Gao secretly glanced at Ma Zhong.

Ma Zhong seemed a bit distracted.

In the temple's drum tower, Chen Cong lay flat, watching the firelight at the well.

Lingjing Temple in Changshe County and the temple in Xu County were both small county temples, not qualified by ritual to hang large bells or drums. So the "opening great stillness" on the first and fifteenth of each month and the "closing great stillness" on the thirtieth and fourteenth were only heard of by generations of resident Daoists. Either someone took a long journey to a major temple and boasted about it upon returning. Former Abbess Hong Miao once said that the morning bells and evening drums of those great imperial temples rumbled so far they could be heard dozens of miles away.

For these rural youths, it was all like hearing a heavenly book.

All the elaborate ritual requirements of proper temples were, at Lingjing Temple—where during the annual pig slaughter, the guest receptionist had to help pull the pig's tail and then bring back two strips of meat to let the temple have a taste of meat—were a matter of making do. If you didn't make do, how would you get by?

Just as Chai Yu produced the miniature copper coin sword, the temple's evening drum sounded.

Chen Cong was startled but too lazy to turn around. It was definitely Old Chang at work.

Chai Yu paused, then smiled dismissively. As a Daoist official and a first-time "visiting monk," he had to follow the rules. He tucked the miniature sword back into his sleeve.

He glanced at the dry well, turned, and bowed toward the drum tower.

He had been overly suspicious. If it reached his junior sister's ears, she might laugh at him.

The night passed uneventfully.

The newly installed abbess Jian Su read through several account books from Lingjing Temple by lamplight. It didn't take long, and she and her maid Huaqiao chatted in their private chamber almost all night.

Chai Yu stayed in a Spartan guest room, too restless to sleep. Besides his nightly breathing exercises, he could hear the youths in the next room. Other than some loud snoring, it was bearable.

When the morning bell sounded, Chai Yu opened his door. He saw the guest receptionist Old Chang sweeping the courtyard, using his broom to knock down icicles hanging from the eaves, shattering them on the ground.

Chai Yu felt helpless. A broom? A bamboo pole would have been better.

But he said nothing, just greeted the old man.

Old Chang quickly stopped and respectfully called him "Daoist Chai."

Chai Yu looked at the main hall. "Guest Receptionist Chang, could I take a look inside the main hall?"

Old Chang grinned broadly. "Not just look—if you see something you like, take it away. Just don't let me catch you. All the temple's valuables are in the main hall. Every item is thoroughly recorded with the county yamen. The officials from the Household and Works offices come annually to inspect. If something needs repair, we report it. But nothing's been changed for years. Losing them might even be better. The year before last, the Works director visited and said, 'Strange, is Lingjing Temple really that sturdy? Everything's solid.' The Household clerk heard and didn't say anything."

Obviously, the hint was that the temple should report even borderline repairs as needed—squeaky wheels get the grease.

That way, the Works office could profit.

The Household office could also get a small share. Even if the money was small, they could treat colleagues to drinks and meat to build relationships.

Chai Yu was momentarily speechless.

Truly lacking in courtesy.

Was the local folk custom a bit... rustic?

Then he reconsidered. This Chang Geng was a genuine scholar in his youth. No wonder.

It was good to have this old man as guest receptionist.

Maybe he could help his junior sister handle temple affairs?

But one thing bothered Chai Yu, even as an outsider. He hesitated, then asked, "Guest Receptionist Chang, you don't seem particularly skilled at striking the temple's bells and drums?"

Old Chang looked embarrassed. "Old Abbess Hong taught me a few times—tight striking, loose striking—but I'm old, I can't remember, can't learn."

Chai Yu was left speechless. Whether the old man couldn't learn or didn't want to, who knew?

Chai Yu didn't even bother asking if he knew the content of the bell and drum inscriptions.

He simply asked another simple question. "Old Chang, does the temple have Daoist cymbals and chimes, like lin and lang?"

Old Chang was confused. "What did you say, Daoist? Cymbals, boards, and bronze chimes—we have them, but rarely used. Since Abbess Hong left, they've been gathering dust in the storage room."

Chai Yu patiently explained. "The ritual bells on the left are called lin, on the right lang, often engraved with talismans and cloud patterns. Generally, county temples should have them, maybe just simpler."

The old man chuckled. "Just say long-handled big bells! Yes, we have them. Old Abbess Hong would shake them and chant—it sounded nice."

This gave the youths a chance to sleep in. Ma Zhong and Tu Gao had even developed the skill of sleeping with their eyes open.

Chai Yu rubbed his forehead and said nothing.

This old guest receptionist had been a scholar in his youth, but probably not a diligent one. Most likely, he had never even considered becoming a Daoist official—either self-aware or too scared to dream.

Old Chang glanced toward the dormitory. Unusually early, the door opened. Lin Shu and the others looked energetic, all spruced up. Tu Gao had even changed into a brand-new Daoist robe.

As for the younger Chen Cong, he looked the same—sleepy-eyed. He spun his eyes, saw the courtyard already swept, strode toward Old Chang, grinning, and reached for the broom.

Abbess Jian Su came out of her room, looked over the resident Daoists, nodded lightly, and was the first to enter the main hall to offer incense.

Except for Chai Yu and Huaqiao, the outsiders, the rest waited.

As for temple priest Liu Fang, he hadn't come up the hill. He had practically been treating the horses like honored ancestors, hardly sleeping all night for fear they might run away or be stolen.

Hearing the temple bell, he finally went to sleep, head hitting the pillow. Nothing could wake him now—he had to sleep it off.

Jian Su began her first morning Daoist lesson.

Though addressing only youths, the content was thoroughly familiar to her. Before, she had listened; now, she was teaching.

Before coming to the temple, she had prepared some lessons and consulted a family retainer who belonged to a major temple's lineage. Still, she was a bit nervous at first.

But whether the youths were listening or just "watching the lesson," and Old Chang in the corner was already nodding off, it actually eased her tension. As she taught, she found her stride. After all, she had been a licensed Daoist at fourteen—teaching here was like a top scholar teaching village children.

Chai Yu and Huaqiao, standing at the door, also breathed a sigh of relief.

After the morning lesson came the vegetarian meal.

Old Chang had gone to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

In official temples, besides rituals and ceremonies, vegetarian meals were required on the first and fifteenth. Besides no meat there were also restrictions on five pungent roots and four strong-smelling vegetables. Other restrictions depended on the temple's rules. Some lineages were strictly vegetarian all year, forbidding meat, alcohol, and even marriage. But ordinary government-built temples like Lingjing Temple were not included. Moreover, sometimes the court's various temple dietary allowances depended on the emperor's or the Guardian True Man's personal preferences.

A large round table could seat over ten people. The meal consisted of steamed buns, plain congee, a few plates of pickled winter vegetables, and a large jar of chopped chili and garlic.

The youths held their breath, waiting for the new abbess to give the order to start eating.

Jian Su smiled. "Guest Receptionist Chang, according to Daoist rules, today is the fifteenth, and garlic is among the four strong-smelling vegetables. Better remove it."

Old Chang quickly apologized, rubbed his hands, and took away the jar.

Chai Yu felt a bit helpless. Had Hong Miao never taught these rules?

The youths' eyes followed the jar.

That was their only flavoring. Without it, the bland food was unpalatable.

Huaqiao was curious. Was that stuff really so good? If they didn't rinse their mouths after, wouldn't their breath reek of garlic?

"Everyone, eat. We can be casual, even chat at the table."

Jian Su smiled, took a sip of congee, and was the first to pick up a piece of pickled vegetable with her chopsticks, chewing carefully. Hmm, the flavor was surprisingly good.

With the abbess present, the youths ate very politely.

When Jian Su put down her chopsticks, the youths were still gnawing on buns and drinking congee. Huaqiao noticed that Chen Cong, though seeming to eat slowly, had actually eaten a lot!

When Daoist Chai and the big woman said they were going to the county town to buy some things, Lin Shu eagerly volunteered to guide them.

But finding that Abbess Jian wasn't going with them, the youth immediately wilted. Once out the temple gate, he became listless.

Jian Su began exploring the temple. Besides the main hall, there were guest rooms, dining hall, kitchen, and a storage shed for farm tools and odds and ends—just a few rooms.

Tu Gao and Ma Zhong eagerly showed the abbess around.

Only Chen Cong sat squatting under the eaves, hands in sleeves, basking in the warm sunlight, yawning lazily.

He always followed one principle: slack off whenever possible.

All day, except for the change of abbess, nothing seemed different to this lazy youth.

Compared to the other youths' excitement, Chen Cong's curiosity focused on unspeakable matters.

Would the new abbess's room have chamber pots and urinals? Did she use the public latrine during urgent needs? Would her intimate clothes drying in the courtyard, fluttering on the pole, affect her dignity? After much thought, he concluded that the abbess would likely have the charcoal-skinned maid rent a house outside the temple—either in the village or county town—solving many problems at once. If only he had asked Old Chang if he had spare cash to rent an empty house in Liu Fang's village first, then sublet it to Abbess Jian. Earning a few silver coins a year wasn't unreasonable? But alas, a copper coin can defeat a hero, and he had missed out.

Dinner was another truly vegetarian meal. But before picking up her chopsticks, Abbess Jian smiled and said that except on the first and fifteenth, there were no restrictions on meat or strong flavors.

Chen Cong wanted to say something but was silenced by Old Chang's glare. He barely held back from blurting out, "Abbess Jian, is it about whether we allow meat or not? It's about whether we can afford it!"

Except on sexagenary days without morning or evening lessons, the temple held evening classes daily. First, incense and candles were lit, then scriptures recited. The first step-up hymn of the temple's evening altar had fixed content, but whether sung by old Abbess Hong or young Jian Su, the same rhythmic chanting made Lin Shu and the others seem energetic—at least on the surface. Chen Cong still droned along drowsily. The subsequent scriptures were selections from court-approved Daoist texts, year after year, century after century: "Ritual the ten directions, connect with understanding, inspire pure will, resolve grievances, save from suffering, ascend to heaven, attain the Dao, leave confusion..." It seemed the Daoist rituals had been passed down like this for ages.

When the evening lesson ended, Ma Zhong and the others found Daoist Chai outside, asking where he came from, whether he knew cloud-riding immortal arts, and whether he really cultivated in mountains above the sea of clouds as described in books.

Chen Cong went to Old Chang's room. After the evening drum, it was time to sleep. But times had changed—Lingjing Temple had a new boss. Former Abbess Hong never cared about such things. At night, the temple gate was closed, but the back door wasn't locked. Anyone could slip out and wander. Sleeping in during morning lessons was fine—nothing beats a nap in bed—just don't snore, or you'd be washing chamber pots for a month.

The old man continued reading an old book with no title on the cover.

Chen Cong remembered that years ago, whenever he wanted to read it, Old Chang would hand it over and even explain a few passages when in a good mood. But since last spring, or maybe the winter before last, he hadn't let Chen Cong see it. His reason was, "You've got a decent memory; reading it again won't do much."

It wasn't just this book. Chen Cong remembered that as a child, Old Chang loved to talk, telling him everything. But over the years, he had become more and more reticent.

This made the youth a bit sad. As he grew up day by day, Old Chang grew older.

Chen Cong did remember the contents. The first chapter seemed to be on Daoist ritual music—something about "the drum is the master of music," "transforming customs, bringing peace to the world, harmonizing beauty," and "bells are the head of metal instruments, used in Buddhist and immortal halls to illuminate the sincerity of worshippers and summon ghostly songs in the dark." These things he only vaguely understood—knowing was just knowing. He wasn't interested. The only intriguing part was that at the end of each section came a phrase like "Mozi disapproves" or "What to do about Mozi's disapproval." The word "Mozi" kept appearing.

Earlier, when he asked Old Chang, he learned that Mozi was a person.

The youth asked curiously, "Old Chang, did the old scholar who wrote this have a grudge against that Mozi fellow?"

So confrontational—he had to write an essay to "argue." If they met, would they roll up their sleeves and fight?

As the youth spoke, Old Chang adjusted the lamp wick and shook his head. "No grudge. On the contrary, they were quite good friends."

Chen Cong asked doubtfully, "How do you know that?"

The old man smiled. "I read it in other books."

Chen Cong sighed. "Old Chang, you've read too many miscellaneous books."

The old man corrected him. "'Too many' is an overstatement. 'Relatively many' is more accurate."

The youth grinned. "Fine. I'll carve a seal for you one day—'Seen by Old Chang,' or more formally, 'Reviewed by Old Chang.' How about that?"

The old man said, "It's better to change 'seen' to 'read.' You need to read books when young. When you're older, you can just skim."

"The ancients said reading a hundred times reveals the meaning. There's depth in that."

"In the past, people wrote books to transmit the Dao, and readers took it seriously. As time passes, books become easier to access, and the truths in them become more numerous, but they lose value."

Chen Cong didn't like such talk. He just whispered his most pressing question. "Will Abbess Jian really not kick us out?"

Old Chang shook his head. "No."

"Why?"

"Look at her—she's from a wealthy family."

"What kind of