Chapter 31: The Gatekeeper
Xie Gou returned from Huimeng Mountain to the Great Li capital, first going to the Flower God Temple to frolic with the Phoenix Flower Goddess. The close sisters agreed to journey together to Ju Prefecture, because Wu Cai had decided to build her flower god temple there, on the grounds that the place was relatively poor and destitute, so even if her shrine and statue were shoddy, the local commoners wouldn't laugh at this impecunious Flower Goddess... Though she said that, Wu Cai had already read through that thick stack of county gazetteers multiple times, and she had even used the multicolored punctuation and annotation method currently popular among Great Li's refined literati. Xie Gou felt she could learn from it.
Xie Gou walked through the Thousand-Step Corridor in high spirits, dangling that special waist token, swaggering back to the National Preceptor Manor. Many along the way cast sidelong glances—whether because of the "Sword Cultivator Bai Jing" or because of her sable hat and flushed cheeks. Wearing a sable hat in the middle of summer was indeed eccentric.
She first went to report in at Alliance Leader Guo's place, then came over here to see the Mountain Lord reclining on a wicker chair in a daze. Xie Gou made solicitous inquiries while probing indirectly: Would it break the rules for our Fallen Mountain to add a Deputy Mountain Lord? Would it put the Mountain Lord in a difficult position? Did the Chief need to smooth things over first and then convene a Patriarch Hall deliberation?
Chen Ping'an couldn't be bothered to take up that subject, simply asking, "Is Xiao Mo doing alright?"
Xie Gou grinned, showing her teeth, "Not well. I gave Xiao Mo a thorough scolding."
Chen Ping'an teased, "Using the most cowardly tone to say the most vicious things?"
Xie Gou was full of admiration, then asked suspiciously, "Did the Mountain Lord secretly peek into the Snail Shell Dao Arena?"
Chen Ping'an chuckled, changing the subject, "That fellow Daoist from Qingqiu arrived at the Fox Kingdom, stirred by the scenery—crying and laughing?"
Xie Gou shook her head, "Don't know. Once we reached the mountain, I dumped her with Old Mr. Zhu and didn't bother anymore. Ha, kill but not bury."
Chen Ping'an said, "That's like a sheep walking right into a tiger's mouth."
Xie Gou said, "Her dao power isn't weak, and she has an impatient temperament. So in the courtyard, she saw through Old Mr. Zhu's true appearance at first glance. Scared her silly."
Chen Ping'an said, "Walking right into the trap."
Pei Qian came over, puzzled, "Master, back then when you came out of the painting scroll, wasn't that Old Cook's true appearance?"
Xie Gou kept her mouth shut. After all, it involved Old Mr. Zhu's privacy, so she couldn't casually spill it.
Chen Ping'an laughed, "Letting you all keep mocking Old Cook as 'the noble gentleman Zhu Lian'—who was it that always laughed till their belly ached, laughed the most exaggeratedly?"
Pei Qian said shamefacedly, "It was funny, okay."
Besides, Master himself had gotten plenty of amusement out of it back then.
Indeed, back then Little Charcoal, Little Rice, and the Blue-Clad Child laughed openly, while Chen Ping'an chuckled secretly.
They chatted idly about that bag of Grain Rain Coins' "hundredfold repayment." Loaning out sixty-five Grain Rain Coins, Xie Gou had effortlessly earned nearly six hundred.
Chen Ping'an clicked his tongue, "This is what you call 'fleecing your friends.'"
Xie Gou curled her lip, "That's only because I've learned well from following the Mountain Lord now. If I were still in the Barren Wastes and had known beforehand that she would show up, I'd have made arrangements long ago, invited one or two fellow daoists, set up an ambush, and after it was done, turned on them and eaten them up—ha, that's what I call real fleecing of friends."
Chen Ping'an was momentarily speechless.
Xie Gou suggested, "Mountain Lord, Qingqiu is still very strong, worth winning over. She has a whole host of followers at her feet, and they're all quite capable fighters. She's equivalent to a top-tier sect."
Earlier outside the city, Qingqiu had thrown out two puppets to entertain Bai Jing.
But they had been sliced through by Xiao Mo's sword light, making them seem paper-thin.
"Without Qingqiu, the Fox Kingdom is just a Fox Kingdom of the Lotus Root Paradise; with Qingqiu, the Fox Kingdom becomes the Fox Kingdom of the entire human world."
"As long as Qingqiu puts out the word, no matter which world the fox descendants are from, they will regard Fallen Mountain as a pilgrimage site they must visit in this life."
Besides, with so many celestial legends and strange tales, what scholar wasn't interested in the beautiful, alluring fox immortals?
Chen Ping'an said, "Whether to stay or leave, she can choose for herself. I can even allow her to move the Fox Kingdom out of the Paradise, taking Pei Xiang and the others with her to break away from Fallen Mountain. She can choose a site within Great Li's borders, with status equal to a Great Li vassal state, and she can raise the banner of 'Qingqiu' again to gather the world's foxes. I'll help mediate with the Central Earth Confucian Temple."
Xie Gou asked, "What are the conditions?"
Chen Ping'an said, "The precondition is that she must secretly make a trip to Zhengyang Mountain, find that Tian Wan, and see whether the latter's skill at tying red strings and matchmaking is stronger, or whether Qingqiu's innate technique prevails."
Xie Gou asked suspiciously, "Just that small a price? That's no different from letting a slutty vixen go on a pleasure trip or 'imperially dispatched to visit a brothel.'"
Momentarily stunned by Xie Gou's "imperially dispatched to visit a brothel" comment, Chen Ping'an rubbed his brow, "Tell her not to take it lightly before going down the mountain. Tian Wan is Zou Zi's junior sister. That woman is useless in mountain-top dao contests, but when it comes to manipulating red strings from behind the scenes and playing with people's hearts, she's a master hand."
Xie Gou said, "Rest assured. Once Qingqiu truly calms down and familiarizes herself with the customs and general rules of the present-day Haoran world, she'll become a different person—meticulous in thought, experienced in action."
Chen Ping'an smiled, "You think so highly of Qingqiu?"
Xie Gou said seriously, "The former master of Qingqiu was more troublesome than the White Bone Daoist."
Chen Ping'an nodded, "You can go back to Fuyao Slope now. Focus on healing your injuries. Don't worry about me."
Xie Gou grinned, "What's the hurry? The matter of protecting Daoist Ding's path won't go wrong. As for my own cultivation, heh."
Chen Ping'an opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped. He lay back in the wicker chair, picking up his tobacco pipe.
Xie Gou asked, "Mountain Lord, do you find it hard work taking care of others?"
Chen Ping'an was taken aback for a moment, then laughed, "Of course I do."
Xie Gou asked again, "Do you ever regret it?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head, "Of course not."
Occasional regrets only came from failing to do things well, from the outcome not being as flawless as expected. Like those dead-end alleys in the capital—the house at the very end was named "Regret."
"Don't keep thinking that Sword Cultivator Bai Jing is going against her dao heart, forcing herself to be 'Xie Gou.' That the Xie Gou in this era is fake."
Xie Gou rubbed her sable hat, smiling, "Have you ever considered that I might actually have always been this way? It's just that era back then, rushing past, didn't allow Bai Jing to be anything other than a pure sword cultivator."
Chen Ping'an was silent for a long time, then said in surprise, "Doggy, were those words taught to you by Old Cook?"
Xie Gou imitated someone's sigh, complaining, "If someone's writing books, they've got to have some real talent, right?"
In the ancient shaman's room, besides the faint sound of turning pages, there were occasional cheers and desk-slapping.
Xie Gou was greatly surprised. She had thought Chen Yi would be reading with eyes blazing, fuming in anger.
He called for Zhu Su. Chen Ping'an carefully told her some matters to note for the trip to Northern Jambudvipa, including which immortal estates and dao arenas were close to Fallen Mountain, and which were "mutually mindful" of each other.
Zhu Su had participated in the National Preceptor ceremony, been acclaimed by the multitudes, possessed the lifebound flying sword "Three Harmonies," and had found the opportunity to break through her realm. She had secluded herself three times, twice withdrawing early. For the final seclusion in the lakeside thatched cottage of Yellow Lake, Ning Yao had helped protect her path. She succeeded.
Having entered the Immortal realm, she came here to watch the battle. Upon seeing the White Bone Daoist's techniques, she became impatient. Fortunately, Xie Gou noticed the sign, used a short sword to help her eliminate the hidden danger, and Zhu Su was still able to leave behind that water script—a blessing in disguise.
Staying in the National Preceptor Manor, the Cavern Master of Azure Sky had gifted her a dao book—a manuscript by "Cloud-Deep Daoist" Yan Shi, the foremost in Haoran talisman arts.
Chen Ping'an said calmly, "Still don't understand?"
In fact, Zhu Su had already figured it out. She said with a dark expression, "It's a calamity."
Chen Ping'an said, "Since it's a calamity, avoiding it is not the mark of a master. Next time I go to the Barren Wastes, you'll come with me to visit Yan Shi's dao arena—no excuses. In short, don't let the 'Minor Three Calamities' evolve into the 'Major Three Calamities.' For minor calamities, others can help, offer a few pointers. But when the major three calamities come upon you, they're imperceptible, without any warning. How is that different from a mortal walking in the rain, knowing to hold an umbrella, yet being struck by lightning?"
Zhu Su's heart was heavy, "Rest assured, Hidden Official. When I reach the Barren Wastes, I won't avoid anything. Whatever difficulties I encounter, I'll definitely face the calamity head-on."
Chen Ping'an shook his head, speaking to himself, "Among the sixty-four hexagrams, which one is bad? Immortal Zhu Su, your sword heart is biased."
Zhu Su's eyes lit up, suddenly enlightened. She simply needed to view calamities as opportunities to hone her sword heart—why fear difficulty, why be trapped?
This was the reason mountain-top cultivation required a wise teacher's guidance. A thousand books of false transmission, but one sentence of true transmission.
Zhu Su took her leave and departed.
Chen Ping'an had been staring blankly at her just now.
Like watching those "sword immortals" on the city wall back then.
Chen Ping'an lay back in the wicker chair, asked Xie Gou casually, "In ancient times, did Qingqiu ever have a grand romance?"
Xie Gou plopped herself down on the railing, swinging her feet, thought for a moment, then shook her head, "Doesn't seem like it. A daoist like Qingqiu, who excelled at manipulating others' desires and passions in ancient times, seems to have been rather reticent about her own 'true heart.'"
Chen Ping'an said, "Then she'll have her own calamity too, most likely a love tribulation. Birth, aging, sickness, death; resentment, hatred, meeting; love, parting, seeking, and not getting."
The nameless owner of that halberd, the ancient shaman who had become a ghostly being, the Three-Courtyard Dharma Master who was left with only a skin and a sliver of true spirit, finally seeing the former master of Qingqiu in the Fox Kingdom... Towering trees and lowly flowers all endure wind and rain, biting firmly into the green mountain and never letting go.
Xie Gou scratched her sable hat, "Then wouldn't I have screwed over Old Mr. Zhu?"
Chen Ping'an smiled, "Zhu Lian can handle it properly."
Song Yunjian asked, "It seems the National Preceptor is very concerned about the East Sea?"
Chen Ping'an nodded, "It can't be said that Chen Qingliu and Wang Zhu can completely decide the fate of the world's water tribes, but one has to admit that their relationship greatly influences the direction of a massive portion of the human world. Mountains and waters involve billions of water tribes—how could that be a small matter?"
Chen Ping'an recalled something, had Song Yunjian inform Rong Yu to register the reckless Daoist of the Flying Immortal Temple lineage under the East Sea, Lu Qingqiu and others, in the records. Additionally, they might come ashore in the future and choose a location on land to build a "lower courtyard." Chen Ping'an had promised they could seek out the Great Li Dynasty's National Preceptor then.
Chen Ping'an sat up, took the inch-measuring object from his sleeve, and smiled, "All of you, come together and help me appraise these treasures."
He had originally thought he'd have to be a "thieving housekeeper," but unexpectedly he'd run into a wealthy squire like the White Bone Daoist who was laden with cash and generous in dispensing wealth.
The corridor of the National Preceptor Manor immediately became lively.
Chen Ping'an felt as if he had formally declared himself the new martial arts lord.
Symbolizing the Great Li dynasty's reign years, two hundred new peach blossoms bloomed.
After a boxing exchange with Cao Ci, each gained benefits for their martial arts. They would walk different paths in a more magnificent new world.
The ancient divine altar that Xie Gou had refined into a pair of pure white seal-stamps, plus thirty-six ancient ritual vessels.
The White Bone Daoist, styled Three-Courtyard Dharma Master, had left behind a substantial "Fourteen-Realm inheritance"—329 treasures, with their grades yet to be examined.
The National Preceptor Manor had gained a ghostly being who had fallen in realm, "Chen Yi," dropping to the Jade Mystery and the Qi-Surging level.
On Great Li's Earthly Branch lineage, Yuan Huajing now had a Flying Ascension realm attendant as mutual path-protector.
An inscribed plaque for the Guan Dao Daoist Temple. That meant a convenient door opened for future trips to the Azure Underworld. More far-reaching significance, not yet apparent, required nurturing energy and storing vigor, waiting patiently to see.
----
The East Sea Water Mansion.
The Golden Carp had hurried back to this newly built undersea Dragon Palace, no slower than the Reckless Daoist and the others, entering the palace together to pay respects to the Water Lord.
Wang Zhu stood in a corridor with her hands in her sleeves, looking at the hanging fish ornaments on the distant palace, and asked casually, "Win or lose?"
The Golden Carp said with a charming smile, "Hard to say. The Hidden Official had a hole stabbed through his belly by Cao Ci's spear—looked even more gruesome. Cao Ci was also quite injured; at least he waited for the swelling on his face to go down before leaving the East Sea."
The Reckless Daoist, in white armor and colorful robe, pressed his hand on his sword. Strange: the one who won didn't win, the one who lost didn't lose?
Among his subordinates who had accompanied him on patrol, most of the Dragon Palace elite guards who had their swords borrowed and not returned were overjoyed. Those who carried knives and spears on patrol were a bit glum—they had lost a topic for bragging over drinks. There were also a few simpletons who foolishly asked whether the peerlessly martial National Preceptor Chen would return their long swords, or whether they could be compensated at a discounted price... They immediately got a slap from the Reckless Daoist, making them spin on the spot. He then told them to go to the treasury archives and pick out new top-grade swords—the expense would come from his Flying Immortal Temple.
The Golden Carp deliberately called Yu Guo, whose face was fair and pale like a handsome youth, and Lu Qingqiu, with her jeweled sword and jade robe, to get their faces familiar with the Water Lord.
This trip, master and disciple might not have outstanding merit, but they had hard work, right?
Wang Zhu was listless, saying carelessly, "Luo Xiu, the central section of the great river on Tongye Continent is about to be joined. You'll lead a separate inspection force to monitor the situation there. Choose a location for stationing troops along the coast, pick your own personnel, estimate your own troop strength. As for additional official titles, go request them from the Ritual System Department yourself."
"And pass a message to Qiu Du of the Green Duckweed Sword Sect: that quota, the East Sea Water Mansion has given it."
"When you ride the tides and patrol the waves, don't have your eyes on the top of your head, constantly provoking conflicts with shore-bound cultivators. If you encounter some deliberate troublemakers, endure it for now. Just silently note down their dao titles and sects. The days are long; when the great river rises in the future, you'll have plenty of opportunities to get even."
The Reckless Daoist clasped his fists and said in a booming voice, "Your subordinate receives the decree!"
Wang Zhu smiled slyly, "Do I need to have Elder Jin repeat it before you'll willingly carry out the decree?"
The Golden Carp covered her mouth and laughed.
The Reckless Daoist looked embarrassed, said in a gruff voice, "Water Lord, those words wound the heart. Your subordinate's loyalty is truly pure, as clear as the sun and moon..."
The Golden Carp gave a light cough—too much, man.
Wang Zhu was distracted, holding her hands in her sleeves as she looked at the circular Dragon Palace architecture, row upon row, built on a circular mountain range. The Water Mansion coiled like a dragon, like a jade bracelet engraved with palindromic poems.
She suddenly asked, "Golden Carp, Reckless Daoist, let me ask you: in the ancient poem 'I too have drifted long, ten years passed, deep kindness unrequited, life and death, teacher and friend'—if 'ten years' were changed to 'a thousand years,' would it be better or worse?"
The Reckless Daoist felt a headache. His subordinate only buried himself in studying military strategy; he was unfamiliar with poetry and prose and probably couldn't hit the mark.
The Golden Carp smiled, "When human poetry takes on the flavor of green lyrics, it gains more immortal aura and loses human flavor—each has its pros and cons."
Wang Zhu shook her head, "If it says 'for a thousand years,' then in the eyes of the world, it's someone who has already attained longevity. What else could they be unsatisfied with? Supposed endless sorrow, hatred, bitterness—though it seems long, it's actually short. All meaning is lost."
The Golden Carp praised, "Princess has a brilliant insight."
The Reckless Daoist chewed over this remark and also found it reasonable.
Wang Zhu turned to look at the pair of exquisite beauties, like a golden boy and jade girl on a mural, and asked, "What are your names?"
Yu Guo bowed his head and clasped his hands, "Reporting to the Water Lord, I am a second-generation disciple of the Flying Immortal Temple. My dao title and name are both Yu Guo. My realm is shallow, only Nascent Soul. The one beside me, Lu Qingqiu, is my direct disciple. She formed her core only a few years ago, and she's a sword cultivator. She doesn't know the rules, always speaks without restraint, and likes to boast."
He figured he'd get that out of the way first, so his disciple wouldn't be rude before the Water Lord.
Wang Zhu nodded, "Good sect traditions. No wonder the Reckless Daoist was able to become the head of Flying Immortal Temple."
But the Reckless Daoist and the others had miscalculated: the temple was not the alchemy chamber of an ancient true man.
Rather, it was the ascension ground of an ancient Golden Immortal—a true hermit who had hidden from the world. She remembered that the Dragon Palace's secret archives had once had a separate entry recording that secret. A patch of azure cloud, carrying a golden palace and jade hall, drifting on the sea... Wang Zhu, having recovered her memories, had seen that scene in her previous life. Later, that Golden Immortal failed in his dao union, and his dao arena was destroyed in the heavenly tribulation. In fact, the entire Flying Immortal Temple was the remnant shell of that Golden Immortal, or perhaps a manifestation of his dao heart obsession, with the Daoist thus dissolving into water.
In the old days, the Lady of Lucun Pit, who dominated the East Sea waters, didn't cause trouble for her neighbor the Reckless Daoist—of course because she knew full well that even if she got her hands on this Flying Immortal Temple, it would be a hot potato she couldn't refine into her own possession, and might even incur the enmity of a "Flying Immortal Temple."
Wang Zhu dismissed the Reckless Daoist and the others, keeping only the Golden Carp for a walk. She seemed moved, and said softly, "Golden Carp, officialdom is like a battlefield. Having a few confidants and a pile of heavenly materials and earthly treasures isn't enough to manage a Water Mansion. Chaotic times require chaotic methods; peaceful times require peaceful tactics."
"Killing enemies on the battlefield is straightforward—whoever has money, grain, and armor, whoever understands military strategy, dares to lead from the front and scorns death, has the bigger winning chance. But in the jostling for power of officialdom, everyone has biases, each their own selfish desires. The civil and military officials under you—some are greedy for money, another kind for power, another for fame. Some can manage themselves but can't manage those around them or their family descendants. Some think themselves completely selfless but end up harming the country and the people. Some have bad reputations but are pragmatic and efficient. You call it ambition, he calls it aspiration... In this officialdom, killing and being killed—it's all human nature."
"How many pure characters like the Reckless Daoist can you find across the entire East Sea?"
Hearing this, the Golden Carp felt both comforted and sorrowful. She said softly, "Princess, you've grown up."
Wang Zhu mocked herself, "I still have some theoretical knowledge and insight."
The Golden Carp reached out toward Wang Zhu and said playfully, "There's this too."
Wang Zhu was annoyed and slapped the Golden Carp's hand away, snorting, "Go find yourself a dao companion."
The Golden Carp withdrew her hand, put it in front of her mouth, her eyes seductive, and deliberately teased, "The Princess should find herself a consort too."
Wang Zhu said calmly, "In the dust motes of the world."
----
After a cosmic revision, just like the previous scattering of the Three Teachings' patriarchs, countless opportunities surged forth in the human world again, like bamboo shoots after rain.
Now another extraordinary treasure appeared.
Back then, the nameless Daoist had tossed his halberd into the seabed, causing quite a stir, drawing gazes. The halberd drew a brilliant, multicolored arc across the sky between Bottle Gourd Continent and the East Sea, lingering for a long time. In an instant, it stirred the dao hearts of many peak figures, who one by one emerged from their private dao arenas to observe the celestial phenomenon over sea and land. Each used their inherited or family secret methods to deduce, and soon confirmed without doubt—it was an artifact of immortal weapon rank?!
Some great cultivators personally left their mountains, concealing their auras and movements, using every means, traveling with lightning speed, quietly rushing to the halberd's splashdown point.
There were also strange experts proficient in fate calculation who didn't personally seek the treasure. Instead, they relied on yin-yang creation, the five-element mutual generation and restriction, or prophetic sayings, sending their fated disciples to try their luck at sea. The more spiritual a divine object, the less it could be seized by brute force alone—such was the profound dao opportunity.
In just the time it takes an incense stick to burn, over a hundred cultivators from several continents had already gone to the East Sea in search of the immortal weapon.
Speaking only of Bottle Gourd Continent, more than thirty cultivators had set out for the East Sea treasure hunt.
Zhengyang Mountain alone dispatched three high-ranking sword immortals, their momentum formidable—it seemed they were determined to obtain it.
Besides Yu Lin of Rain-Foot Peak, there was an old Golden Core who had been stuck at a bottleneck for many years...
Actually, Su Jia from Dogwood Peak had also gone, but she had been secretly instructed by Tian Wan, concealing her tracks and quietly heading to the East Sea.
As for Wind Thunder Garden, there was a certain Liu Baqiao, who had been dragooned by his senior uncles into leading a few young sword cultivators to try their luck there, treating it as a training trip down the mountain.
If Liu Baqiao, that lazybones, could even attract one or two sword cultivation seedlings up the mountain, it would be a huge unexpected bonus—burning incense to the heavens.
Within the former White Frost Dynasty's territory, a small sect with only two registered disciples—the sect master and the discipline master—had mobilized their entire strength.
Some cultivators native to East Sea island sects were the first to spot that extremely long "light ray" starting from Bottle Gourd Continent's sky, trailing between sea and sky. They hastily flew up into the air, approached that immortal trace, but all dared not act rashly. Most cautiously tested it first, sending a technique or two—and they passed through unobstructed. After hesitating, they touched the light ray with their carried weapons—still nothing unusual. Then, when they drove their lifebound objects or reached out to touch the ray, they suddenly felt pain, their souls shuddering violently. Either their lifebound objects were severely damaged, or they fell into the sea.
One lucky fellow chose a spot along this "immortal road." He saw where the light ray "connected" with the formless river of time, like glazed glaze, condensing into glazed beads that fell toward the sea. He hurriedly offered a lifebound object, a white jade plate, to catch those multicolored beads. Big and small pearls fell onto the jade plate, tinkling, streaks of treasure light shooting into the blue sky.
Receiving such an opportunity was huge. It was a beautiful dream he wouldn't dare dream. Looking back on his path through life, drifting from place to place, the cultivator was suddenly overcome with mixed joy and sorrow. His eyes red, he wailed loudly, then broke into sobs, and abruptly shouted in a tearful voice, "Thank the heavens and earth for creation! Thanks to my parents for giving birth! Thanks to my master for showing the way! Thanks to the patriarchs for blessing and protecting!"
In the distance, the Great Heavenly Master surnamed Liang from Dragon Tiger Mountain, the old true man Liang Shuang, was journeying across the sea with the Chouchun Daoist of Xiefeng Palace on Golden Armor Continent and a small daoist boy carrying a huqin. Seeing this scene, the old true man also sighed with emotion.
Chouchun Daoist smiled, "That halberd that sank to the seabed is currently masterless, easy enough to find. Just follow this light ray like a vine and you'll get to it. We happen to be passing by, and we're free anyway. This is an opportunity right before us—how about we go take a look?"
Liang Shu waved his hand, "If you want to go, go. Try your luck, whether fated or not. I won't join the excitement."
Chouchun Daoist said, "Then let's continue the journey."
Liang Shu stroked his beard and smiled, "I'll stay here and see how the East Sea Water Mansion operates and how deep the dao hearts of this new batch of ascendants are."
Chouchun Daoist said freely, "Fine."
----
In the night, Rong Yu had just obtained a list of names. They had different identities and different native places. The only common point was that they were all related to the Green Jade Capital's Sect Leader Lu.
She came to this corridor and had reviewed and annotated nearly a hundred official documents. The National Preceptor came here to lie on the wicker chair, taking a brief moment of leisure.
Chen Ping'an rubbed his brow, "The others are all manageable, but Shi Jiachun's side is hard to broach."
Shi Jiachun owned a cute little golden abacus, which she had grabbed as a child during her first birthday grasping ceremony. That object was actually secretly given by Lu Chen, who had set up a fortune-telling stall in the small town back then.
In the Hehuan Mountain region, Lu Chen had once taught a deathless technique to Bai Mao of the Xizi Ridge Qingbai Mansion. Lu Chen "sold" a flower-and-bird album at a high price, taking a Snow Flower Coin from a ghostly being. Now that Mansion Master Bai was still in his own dao arena, greatly missing that young Daoist who had cheated him out of some money and wondering if he was safe.
Besides the Hundred Flower Lake shrine, there was the old tortoise carrying a stele that had sought Lu Chen's help to "turn into a human."
And there was Lu Mo, the female martial artist whom Lu Chen had beaten "half to death" with a single sleeve strike in a mean alley.
And on Mount Pu, the Middle March's reserve mountain, the mountain god Fu Dechong seemed to have been given a dao book by Lu Chen as well.
Chen Ping'an might also need to visit a certain small, neglected temple on the Divine Revelation Sect's grounds.
Rong Yu also found it tricky, with no ready solution. If the National Preceptor Manor actually made the request, she believed that Shi Jiachun, who came from the same hometown as the National Preceptor, or her husband Bian Wenmao, or the entire family, wouldn't hesitate. Bian Wenmao had recently left the capital for an external post as the Education Commissioner of Chu Prefecture. Although it wasn't a promotion, the newly established prefectural Education Commissioner had a low rank and wasn't considered a regional official, but it was a pure and noble post that regional officials couldn't interfere with. In short, once his term ended and he returned to the capital, Bian Wenmao and the other education commissioners would likely be promoted soon.
Chen Ping'an placed his hands on his abdomen, chuckled, "Worries of tomorrow can wait until tomorrow. I'll just go knock on their door tomorrow and get scolded."
A young woman with a bun hairstyle was leading several youths and an old man through a shortcut. They didn't take the brightly lit Thousand-Step Corridor but detoured toward the National Preceptor Manor. She had just fished them out of the Ministry of Justice prison but didn't say who she was, just told them to follow.
Keeping a distance of five or six paces from the strange, silent woman, a tall youth whispered to the others, "Relax, doesn't look like we're being taken to the execution ground. If they wanted to torture us privately, they wouldn't bother."
The road was lined with thick pines and cypresses. At night, it was cool and not stuffy, but it looked a bit eerie.
He reasoned to himself, "The timing's wrong too. Beheadings are usually at high noon. Even if someone's wrongfully killed, they can't become vengeful spirits. Don't the plays always say 'execute in autumn'?"
A handsome youth frowned, "She likes to play deaf and dumb. I can't get anything out of her. If we just knew her identity, we wouldn't have to guess blindly."
A jade token was tied at her waist, but she deliberately kept the side with writing hidden.
Earlier, when they left the Ministry of Justice prison, the handsome youth had exchanged glances with his companions, without any need for words. He deliberately tripped, trying to grab the jade token and flip it over, but the woman, who seemed to have eyes in the back of her head, easily dodged.
They simply couldn't understand how this thin, frail-looking woman could casually lead them out of the Ministry of Justice prison without any obstruction, without even a single question, as if the Great Li Ministry of Justice belonged to her family. How was that possible? When they first came to the capital, swaggering through the streets and carefully learning about Great Li's officialdom, they knew that only the Ministry of Personnel was run by a single person. No other yamen was ruled by one person. No wonder the short youth had guessed earlier that maybe her family had been executioners for generations, and she wanted to test their worthless heads on her blade. The executioner trade had few rules, but it was eerie. Maybe she had taken money privately, sharpened her knife, and was testing its sharpness so she could cut off valuable heads properly, to avoid mistakes—like a single chop that only half-severed a head, causing the noble families' relatives to cry themselves silly.
The more the youth thought, the more afraid he became. He felt that the trees were hung with hanging ghosts sticking out their tongues, and if he looked up, they'd smile at him, so he sidled closer to the handsome youth.
The old man kept his hands in his sleeves, head drooping, neck hunched, surveying the surroundings. He chuckled, "You haven't read many books. You don't know that in unofficial histories, there are stories about painted beauties and fox spirits that bring ruin to kingdoms. They say their flesh is rarer than gold—an ounce of their flesh is worth an ounce of gold. Consorts and such—they weren't satisfied with debauching the palace; they liked to grab tender-skinned handsome youths, or even sturdy traveling merchants—they weren't picky. They'd have their governesses or maids go out to find people, then blindfold them and lead them to a secret room where they'd see a coquettish woman with skin like white jade, and spend the night in bliss. I just wonder if you all will be so lucky tonight."
The old man knew that these sayings were mostly made up by frustrated impoverished scholars, or else disgruntled readers of the previous dynasty. But in his heart, he also felt that tonight's journey might end badly, so he wouldn't say anything real that would scare the children. They weren't like him—someone with one foot in the grave, who didn't care if tomorrow was sunny or rainy.
The handsome youth smiled, "Old Hong, what are you thinking? This is the Great Li capital. If we were back home, I'd believe your bullshit."
He thought for a moment, raised his arm and sniffed it, then continued, "Besides, if there really was such good fortune, wouldn't they force us to bathe first? With our stench, who could stand it?"
The old man said he was a fishkeeper for some prince's mansion, specially raising fish for the prince. He used to earn quite a bit. Later, the prince was said to have become a porter, and the mansion's thirty-odd bird-and-fish keepers ended up in trouble. He was good-hearted, so every now and then he gave them a few silver coins.
That's what he said, but they didn't believe him.
Old Hong said the most valuable goldfish in the world all had major diseases.
Only the cleverest handsome youth could read between the lines—that he was cursing those in power, officials. But that was all past dynasty business.
In reality, after the change of dynasty, they could have survived. There were many ways to make a living. But these friends who had grown up together didn't want to spend their whole lives muddling along in a daze, idling away their days. They had lofty ambitions. After some discussion, they decided to pull off a big job. Back home, they used to hang around the courier station, seeing many officials and many envoys heading to the capital to meet the emperor. They carefully planned for two full years, then brought Old Hong, who was good at pretending to be a high official, into the scheme. They would be missing this old man who bragged all year round, the show couldn't go on.
What big job? They were going to the Great Li capital to cheat the emperor's money!
They had ideas for how to spend the gold and silver once they tricked it out of him. Each had their own ambition—one wanted to apprentice at a martial arts academy and eventually open his own escort agency; another wanted to buy a big mansion, marry a pretty wife, and take five or six concubines. As for Old Hong, he hadn't said what he wanted to do. Given his frail old body, even if he wanted to do something, he probably wouldn't have the strength. The old man just told the youths that after the money was obtained, aside from a share to the traveling opera troupe, the rest would be split equally among the four of them. They absolutely couldn't cross the bridge after crossing the river and go back on their word.
So they did it. They forged seals, impersonated a mission, arrived early in the capital, and checked into an inn under the Court of State Ceremonial. Every day they swaggered around, eating and drinking lavishly, with Old Hong putting on airs. The officials of the Great Li Court of State Ceremonial were sharp-eyed and experienced—they had seen all kinds of missions—yet they still didn't see through their disguise. Then again, the reason they got away with it was also because the Court had seen so many bizarre, oddly behaved tribute missions over the past thirty years that they often had to ask the Northern and county offices to help catch people.
And Old Hong was truly skilled. His acting was better than any career actor. He perfectly portrayed the greedy, lecherous, outwardly strong but inwardly weak type. Or maybe it wasn't acting—poor scholars from small towns, who had never seen the world but tried to put on airs, weren't they just like that?
The woman turned and smiled, "As bold and meticulous as you are, you were still doing a beheading offense. Why didn't you quit while you were ahead and wait for the Ministry of Rites and Imperial Clan Court to verify? Even if you didn't get to see the Emperor, the Court of State Ceremonial would have followed procedure and sent you off with a few hundred taels of silver and some goods. If you had left the capital two days earlier, you could have at least escaped the capital region."
The handsome youth smiled, "To answer the sister's question, we hadn't seen the big money yet, so we were reluctant to make a run for it."
The truth was they had considered quitting with the gains, but the opera troupe had suddenly disappeared. They wanted to wait for them to return to the inn before leaving the capital together. If they slipped away first, it would certainly expose them, and they would have harmed the troupe members' lives.
None of them had much education, but they still had to uphold some sense of brotherhood.
As a result of that wait, the Great Li Court of State Ceremonial officials received word from the real mission.
The woman smiled, "You were impostors. But do you know that traveling opera troupe of five people, who spent every day playing emperors, generals, ministers, and beauties—those roles were their true stories? They came to the capital this time intending to assassinate... a high official in the capital. They carried the bitterness of a fallen nation, single-mindedly seeking revenge. When they left the inn, they didn't consider brotherhood with you."
The old man was stunned. He stamped his foot, filled with regret, his intestines twisting, "I knew they weren't acting! Should have run long ago."
The tall youth's face turned pale, and he muttered, "It was my fault for being obsessed with waiting for her to come back. I dragged you all into this."
Knowing the truth, the short youth was no longer afraid. He rubbed his cheeks and said, "Heh! Now it's really 'man dies, balls up to heaven.'"
They thought it was just a money-scamming job. How were they supposed to know it involved assassinating some big shot in the Great Li capital?
Don't the plays always say, "In eighteen years, I'll be a good man again"?
The problem was, they had only lived fifteen or sixteen years. Seemed like a bit of a loss.
The woman was also strange—she actually told them the flaws in their tribute mission, certain details that were off and how they should have been done. The youths exchanged glances. Could she be a fellow criminal? No, clearly a senior, an expert!
If only they had recruited her earlier...
The old man was a bit regretful. He had almost seen the Great Li emperor!
That would have made his life not lived in vain.
But it was a pity about these clever children. They still had their best years ahead. They should have lived to see the bright sun decades later. Even if they spent their whole lives in mediocrity, with their intelligence, they could still marry, have children and grandchildren.
Earlier, the old man had taken all the blame upon himself. He said he had instigated them, that he was the mastermind, and they were just deceived by his sweet talk. What did country youths know about serious matters? They just thought it was fun. Too bad those sharp Great Li Ministry of Justice officials were hard to fool.
But there was one thing the old man still couldn't understand—the look in those young officials' eyes when they looked at them. It wasn't the kind of loathing, disgust, or contempt that seeped from their bones. On the contrary, when they interrogated the case, there was an indescribable meaning in their faces and eyes.
The old man understood officialdom well. "A magistrate ruins a family, a prefect destroys a gate"—did he really think that was just play-acting?
If not for this earth-shattering farce, the youths were lucky. They were born after the change of dynasty, when the imperial surname was Song.
Maybe it was because the old man, who had served the previous dynasty's nobility for half his life, felt he had never truly lived.
That's why he was moved by the youths' burning eyes, why he was foolish enough to agree to come with them to the Great Li capital.
The crops in the homeland stood in the fields, the little bridge stood over the stream, the homeland's great mountains stood on the earth, and perhaps a certain youth's beloved foreign girl stood in the center of his heart.
They could already faintly make out the outline of a huge building, like a dragon coiled in the Great Li capital.
The old man stopped, suddenly howled miserably—maybe he had never spoken so loudly in his life—"Miss, I know you are noble, that you stand in the sky of our Great Li... I can die, but they cannot be killed!"
The old man's voice was shrill, like an old, sick, solitary crane with broken wings, flapping hopelessly in the mud, struggling desperately.
The youths' eyes reddened instantly. Only tonight did they realize that this thin, bragging Old Hong was actually such a hero.
Pei Qian stopped and turned, smiling, "Who said anything about killing you? Don't scare yourselves. I'm just taking you to meet my master. He wants to have a chat with you."
The withered old man wouldn't believe it. He just spread his arms, shielding the youths behind him, his eyes begging the gentle woman, "Miss, please, let them go."
He was afraid. Compared to the old man's long-familiar stories of the previous dynasty, the Great Li officials—those of the Court of State Ceremonial, those local officials—were too formidable. They didn't kill out of personal spite. They even explained the legal statutes in detail. Even when they clearly knew the old man was talking nonsense, they listened patiently and then refuted him point by point until he was speechless.
This made it so that those who were killed couldn't even find a reason. They couldn't say the world was filthy, that justice was unfair, that officials treated lives like weeds.
The old man, somehow stirred by sad memories, began to sob. But he still shielded the three youths.
The life or death of nobodies like them was like the blooming and withering of wildflowers by the roadside. Only the neighboring wildflowers knew, and they too would quietly disappear.
Pei Qian said helplessly, "My master's surname is Chen, given name Ping'an."
The old man was stunned, puzzled. The youths looked at each other blankly—they didn't recognize the name either.
Since it was such a rustic name, he must be one of those self-made big shots, not from a noble lane like Yichi Lane or Chier Street?
The problem was that the old man knew one thing better: people from humble origins were often the most ruthless. Ruthless at making money, ruthless in officialdom, the most ruthless in life and deeds.
Pei Qian had to flip the jade token over.
The old man rubbed his eyes hard. The handsome youth was sharp-eyed and recognized the three characters first: "National Preceptor Manor."
The handsome youth tested, "Is Sister named Rong Yu or Fu Qing?"
The Great Li National Preceptor Cui Chan, the Embroidery Tiger—who didn't know him? An incredibly formidable big shot.
They had done some homework, especially after arriving in the capital. They had even heard the names Rong Yu and Fu Qing.
But since they had been caught and thrown in prison, how could they know the current state of the Great Li court?
Pei Qian smiled and shook her head, "No."
A woman in a round-collared silk dress came over. She seemed to walk slowly but was upon them in an instant. She smiled, "I am Rong Yu."
She waved her hand, and the hidden agents who had been lurking in the street quietly withdrew.
Rong Yu asked softly, "What happened?"
Pei Qian smiled, "This old gentleman was afraid I was taking them to the gates of hell, so he fought desperately to protect the three of them."
Rong Yu nodded, "Good."
The old man subconsciously rubbed his hands together, then didn't know where to put them. He said in a trembling voice, "Are you really Miss Rong Yu of the National Preceptor Manor?"
Rong Yu smiled, "Who would dare impersonate anyone right in front of the National Preceptor Manor? I'm not as bold as you all."
The handsome youth looked up. So this was the Great Li Dynasty's National Preceptor Manor. Could he really chat with that Embroidery Tiger? What would he say when they met?
He'd heard that the smartest young people in the world were officials inside there.
The short youth was curious. This woman named Rong Yu clearly looked like a martial artist. He wondered if she was one of the legendary martial arts grandmasters.
Hmph, no matter how powerful she was, could she be stronger than that "Zheng Qingming" or "Zheng Sowing Money," Grandmaster Zheng? She'd probably be knocked down with one punch.
This woman called Rong Yu, the National Preceptor's maid, was beautiful, of course, but not as beautiful as her. Just thinking about his beloved, the tall youth's heart almost broke.
He wondered how she was doing. Had she managed to escape the capital? If she had, would she still remember him in this life?
Rong Yu smiled, "Hong Tao, Ding Hao, Ma Buhai, Hu Jin. Don't just stand there. Come with us to the National Preceptor Manor to meet the National Preceptor."
The old man named Hong Tao said timidly, "Could we change our clothes first? We could buy them from you, nothing too expensive or nice, or else we'll have to go into debt."
After all, they hadn't gotten any money out of this. They'd almost lost their lives instead.
Rong Yu smiled, "No need to change clothes. When the National Preceptor sent Miss Pei to the Ministry of Justice prison to fish you out, he said that after reviewing the case files, Mr. Hong is an expert at reading romance novels. The National Preceptor was afraid you'd let your imagination run wild on the way, fill your head with fancies, and then when we meet, you'd find nothing there and lose all interest in talking."
Old Hong's face turned red, so embarrassed he wanted to dig a hole and crawl in.
The three youths were even more stunned. The National Preceptor's calculation was divine!
No wonder he could be the Great Li National Preceptor, able to drive back those ferocious Barren Wastes beasts back then.
The Great Li Song family's ancestors must have had green smoke rising from their graves to get such a National Preceptor.
But maybe you couldn't say it that way. The Great Li emperor was also extremely decisive. All along their journey, whenever anyone mentioned this emperor, it was always good words. Old Hong was right—good words that were never meant to reach the ears of the one being praised were certainly true good words.
Following Rong Yu and the woman who was probably Fu Qing toward the National Preceptor Manor, the old man asked softly, "Are there any rules we need to follow?"
He didn't know how to address them properly, so he just omitted it.
Rong Yu smiled, "Nothing special to note. Don't be nervous either. Just treat the National Preceptor as a public official who draws his salary every year. When you meet him, you'll understand naturally."
The old man's heart was stirring wildly. He scratched his ears and cheeks—it was really clawing at his heart and liver! Tonight felt like a dream.
Rong Yu asked, "Ding Hao, after you serve your sentence, would you like to study at Spring Mountain Academy?"
Ding Hao, with his handsome features, shook his head, "Studying is useless. We can't compete with those rich kids in the exams. Besides, we're not the scholarly type."
The short youth named Ma Buhai nodded vigorously, "What would we do at Spring Mountain Academy? Studying only makes people stupid. Ding Hao and I are going to apprentice at a martial arts school first, learn some martial arts, then after we finish, we'd like to open our own martial arts school. Then take on disciples and open an escort agency. We'll not only make a name in the jianghu but also make a lot of money. One day, I'll make that martial arts grandmaster Zheng Zhengdao know that there's a guy named Ma Buhai in the jianghu."
Pei Qian rubbed her forehead.
Rong Yu deliberately asked in surprise, "Grandmaster Zheng? Male or female? I've never heard of her. How is she such a peerless martial artist?"
Ma Buhai gave her a look of disdain. A National Preceptor Manor maid? Was she a phony? So short-sighted—didn't she know the "Zheng Money," one of the four grandmasters on the martial arts ranking?! The youth folded his arms and sneered, "I heard Grandmaster Zheng's killer move is a set of demonic sword techniques that has never appeared in the world. After I've learned martial arts, made enough money, and am famous enough, I'm definitely going to find a jianghu elder to arrange a meeting with her. Preferably, I'll have a face-to-face contest of her boxing and sword techniques."
The youth saw the young woman with the bun hairstyle turn to him and smile gently, "Focus on practicing your basic moves. Stop listening to such baseless gossip. You believe that? How stupid."
Ma Buhai said impatiently, "Sister, of course I respect you. I'm very grateful that you pulled us out of jail. That's a life-saving grace, and I'll find a way to repay you someday. But don't disparage Grandmaster Zheng. Otherwise, I'll have to argue with you and lay it all out neatly..."
Ding Hao secretly tugged at Ma Buhai's sleeve, signaling him to shut up. Youths from noble families never put their arrogance on display. Don't anger them with a few careless words, or they'd secretly hold a grudge, and you wouldn't even know how you died.
The old man took a deep breath. A dreamlike scene—he was really going to see such a far-off figure?
When they were so close, what could a coarse, lowly nobody like him say to the Embroidery Tiger?
In the night, before the Great Li National Preceptor Manor, the old man and youths from the countryside were so nervous their palms were sweating. They subconsciously slowed their steps.
The old man praised silently in his heart: This was indeed the Great Li Dynasty's National Preceptor Manor. The gatekeeper had such a bookish air, like a scholar.
On the steps at the entrance sat a middle-aged man in blue shirt and cloth shoes, as if he had been waiting early for them, these self-proclaimed nobodies.