Chapter 1008: A Jar of Forty-Year-Old Wine
On the western foothills of Bottle Gourd Continent, within one of the numerous vassal states of the Great Li Dynasty, the capital of the Jade Xuan Kingdom, the night lamps were just being lit. A fortune-telling stall set up by the roadside featured a middle-aged Daoist slumped over the table, drunk and unconscious. He suddenly jolted awake, lifting his head, still looking dazed and intoxicated with unfocused eyes. He picked up the wine flask by his hand, took a swig of the "soul-restoring brew" meant to cure a hangover with more alcohol, then let out a long breath. He prepared to pack up and head home. The Daoist reached into his sleeve and covertly weighed his money pouch. He had earned some small silver pieces, but mostly copper coins.
On the streets, some eunuch sons and noble sons out on spring outings were returning late. The grass was green, the willows yellow — enough to intoxicate many frivolous youths. They rode their horses back into the city under the night, their horses' hooves seeming to carry the fragrance of spring grass.
The middle-aged Daoist began tidying up the bamboo slip container on the table, picking up a few copper coins used for divination. They were sleek and shiny from years of handling. He tossed them back into the container, then pulled up a tablecloth covered with surnames. On ordinary days, the Daoist would use this setup to read divination slips for good or bad luck, read palms for love fortunes, analyze characters, and even write family letters for others — all to supplement the household income. The cost of living in the capital was much higher than in the prefectures and counties of the Jade Xuan Kingdom, with prices that made one gasp.
As for guessing surnames, that was a fringe "survival skill" he had learned from Little Charcoal in his early years — a low-class river-and-lake technique. He still remembered that one of her childhood dreams was to drag him, her master, along to wander the jianghu and make big money together! Find a bustling thoroughfare in a market. First, she'd bang a gong and drum up a crowd. Once people gathered, the master would first perform a few moves with a blade, then pound a stone on his chest, selling dog-skin plasters and strength pills. There'd be no worry about sales. She knew all these trades inside out and was extremely skilled at them. Of course, it was a bit tough, but still... as for those lowly, shady businesses that couldn't be mentioned, the kind that went against one's conscience — better not to earn that silver.
Chen Ping'an smiled. It seemed unlikely he'd be wandering the jianghu with his first great disciple like that anymore. Even if he, as the master, were willing, Pei Qian herself would probably think it was nonsense.
This fortune-telling stall had now gained some small fame in this part of the capital's market district.
But naturally, it couldn't catch the eye of high officials and nobles. Fooling common folk was fine, but in the eyes of true qi refiners, it was no different from some swindling trick.
Apart from some odds and ends, the main gear consisted of a table, two long benches, and a banner pole. The so-called table had a detachable top and legs for easy transport. Behind the stall was a wooden pushcart. He could pile the table, benches, and banner on it and just go. A wandering Daoist, one person full fed, no worries. The sky was big, the earth vast, the whole world his home.
However, this Daoist had still rented a long-vacant, abandoned residence in the capital. It wasn't haunted — not the gloomy, murderous kind. It was just that anyone living there often felt like they were being pressed down by a ghost while sleeping, as if plagued by nightmares, making it hard to sleep well. Over time, this naturally led to listlessness, and eventually no one was willing to spend money to suffer there. It resembled a mischievous fox spirit recorded in strange accounts. The house's owners had invited so-called high-achieving Daoists to perform exorcisms, which worked but didn't work. Once the altar was set up and the rites performed, things would quiet down, but after a while, the trouble would start again. Truly hopeless. Besides, the owner family was wealthy, having dealt in the capital's rental and sale of residences for several generations. They had plenty of properties, so they didn't care much about one haunted house, especially since no one had ever died. So they didn't take it too seriously. Then finally, a sucker showed up — an out-of-town Daoist. Taking advantage of his unfamiliarity, they didn't lower the rent. Since he was doomed not to be a repeat customer, they made him pay half a year's deposit upfront. A cut was a cut.
Later, the Daoist indeed suffered consequences and immediately became unhappy. He went to argue twice but was easily dismissed. The shop bullying the customer? There was a contract, black ink on white paper, clearly written. Even if the case went to heaven, they would be in the right. What could a rootless, supportless Daoist do? Besides, the citizens of Jade Xuan Kingdom's capital were notoriously xenophobic. When the Daoist wanted to find a lawyer to seek justice from the county magistrate, no one dared to help write the petition. Later, as the fortune-telling stall's reputation grew, the house owner, perhaps thinking it better to resolve enmity than keep it, had his son, who had landed a job in the county office's document handling room, take the Daoist to a winehouse for a drink and return part of the deposit to smooth things over. During the drinking, that young master, a government clerk, put his feet up on the table, belched, and mocked the Daoist: "Aren't you a Daoist who subdues demons and exorcises evil? Why are you afraid of those dirty ghostly things?"
The Daoist just smiled and replied, "The living and the dead walk different paths, yin and yang follow different ways. If one always relies solely on immortal techniques to fight and kill, walking by the river often will eventually wet one's shoes. It's better to do good with both people and ghosts."
Having spent years in officialdom, that young master immediately picked out the hidden meaning in the words. He tapped the table with his boot and laughed: "Daoist Wu, those words of yours have hidden implications. I wonder, in your eyes, are my father and I human or ghost? And the anomalies haunting the house — are they human or ghost?"
Tonight, the middle-aged Daoist pushed the wooden cart back to the residence. He came to the side gate, took out a key ring, and as there were no steps here, he could push the cart directly inside.
The Daoist had just bolted the gate when a woman in a red dress "floated" over without her feet touching the ground. She teased: "Daoist Wu, it's lucky our court isn't strict about this. Otherwise, a fake Daoist like you wouldn't even be allowed into the city, let alone settle down."
She wore a palace-style jeweled hair bun, skin like snow, seductive eyes, tender cheeks, and long side locks.
Unfortunately, she was not human.
The Daoist immediately retorted: "Miss Xue, that's not quite right. According to Jade Xuan Kingdom's laws, within the nation's borders, aside from the Dao Registry Office under the Ministry of Rites, private Daoist certificates issued by various ritual altars also count as official licenses, and the court has always recognized them. I spent connections and bribes — a full eighty taels of silver, hard cash — to buy my license. With this, I'd dare to go even to the Great Li capital, let alone here. This is called 'with reason, one can travel the world; with a straight body, one need not fear a shadow's slant.'"
Equivalent to using eighty taels of silver to buy a talisman. Without this identity, an out-of-town Daoist wanting to set up a stall to earn money would probably have been skinned several layers by those yamen clerks and runners.
The woman nodded and smiled: "Exactly. A purchased official is still an official, after all."
Her surname was Xue, given name Ruyi. She was a ghostly entity, but not the kind of vengeful spirit or vicious fiend. She could walk about freely even under broad daylight. Only when the county yamen next door held a session and the clerks' wooden sticks thumped the ground in a show of authority would she retreat into the house.
The Daoist pulled a paper-wrapped flower cake from his sleeve and handed it to the red-dressed female ghost. This was the second rent he needed to pay. Every day after setting up his stall, he had to spend a little money to buy some capital specialty snacks as tribute to the "lady of the house." Otherwise, she would raise a ruckus — not harming anyone, but making noise all night, rattling outside the window, giving him no peace. A peaceful sleep was a luxury.
As time passed, they got to know each other's temperaments. Now they were like well water and river water — each minding its own business, coexisting peacefully. They could even chat occasionally. The Daoist often asked her about the rules for ghostly beings traveling on the dark paths.
This aging-looking Daoist named Wu Di had supposedly already thought of his future Daoist name, a homophone: "Wu Di" meaning "Invincible."
She was a yin spirit, indifferent to food and drink, but there was a mortal neighbor in the residence who needed three meals a day. She complained: "Wu Di, why are you so late tonight? He's hungry. Hurry up and cook something good for Zhang Hou. He's at a growing age and can't just make do. Zhang Hou is about to take the prefectural exam. Whether he can enter the school depends on this. If he fails to become a scholar, I'll blame you."
The Daoist was naturally good-natured and had no airs. Since he was living under someone else's roof, he quickly agreed, saying he would go to the kitchen to start cooking as soon as he put away his gear.
This Daoist didn't mistreat himself. He liked to be finicky about small things. For example, when making a bowl of noodles, besides preparing cooking wine and various toppings, he had four or five kinds of chili oil alone, along with chopped ginger, scallions, and garlic... Then he'd pour it all over, sizzling, and serve it hot. The taste was amazing.
The Daoist went to the kitchen, worked with practiced skill, and soon made a table of home-cooked dishes. The red-dressed woman helped "carry" the dishes to the table, each plate floating through the air like a suspended stream of water and landing on the table.
The female ghost then called over the young scholar named Zhang Hou, who lived in the neighboring house. The reason she lingered here was because of a vow made in the mountains, to take care of his descendant.
As for how she, in the capital, with a county city god temple nearby, was allowed to turn a blind eye — that involved some secret guidance from a superior in the capital city god temple.
Just one street away from the residence was one of the capital's two county yamens. Behind the yamen office was a shrine to the officials.
At the dinner table, the Daoist was showing off his close connections with the salt room clerk of the county yamen, bragging about how well-informed he was. He said that yesterday, an internal meeting was held in the official shrine, and soon several "white clerks" who had repeatedly violated rules despite repeated admonitions would be expelled from the yamen by the county magistrate in a fit of anger. They could, of course, change their names and enter some other room to make a living, but without spending thirty to fifty taels of silver on guild fees and case fees, they wouldn't be able to pass the deliberation at the official shrine...
Zhang Hou was the kind who paid no attention to what went on outside the window and only focused on sage books. Every time he heard Wu Di chatter about such trivial nonsense, the youth would become impatient but force himself not to speak.
A county yamen had six main rooms, plus the salt, granary, documents, and receiving rooms — ten in total. The clerks and runners serving there were divided into those "on the rolls" and those "off the rolls." "Off the rolls" only meant relative to the court; actually, there were two types, controlled respectively by the personnel room and each room's clerk. So, the number of runners could easily reach several hundred. Even a very diligent county magistrate might not know the exact count. But even the officially established clerks who "ate imperial grain" had little status, let alone those belonging to lowly trades in each room and squad. No wonder the youth was annoyed by these trivial, useless bits of news.
The red-dressed woman noticed the youth's displeased expression and immediately glared at the Daoist, hinting for him to stop talking about such boring matters.
The Daoist raised his cup, took a sip of wine, and laughed: "For someone like me, who roams the rivers and lakes, information is the path to wealth. Naturally, I have to deal with all sorts of people. That said, young master Zhang and you other scholars who diligently study the sages' books naturally aim to govern the people and realize your ambitions in the court and officialdom. But knowing a bit about the tricks below is also a good thing. If someday you actually pass the provincial exam and then the metropolitan exam, becoming an official, you won't be easily fooled by the aides and clerks around you. Otherwise, you'll be cut off from the common people outside the yamen. A single door's difference can be the difference between heaven and earth. As a local parent official, a close-to-the-people official, how can you truly understand the people's hardships?"
She rarely nodded in agreement: "Apart from Wu Di's 'ghost-tally' third-rate skills, this fake Daoist — even his name might be fake — these few words do have some real insight. More skills don't weigh you down, just as more money doesn't weigh your hand. As Wu Di said, knowing more about the inside story of officialdom, even if not good, isn't necessarily bad."
To tell the truth, she had lived on this street for hundreds of years. Sometimes when bored, she would occasionally "audit" the internal meetings at the official shrine or the city god temple. But when it came to the inner workings of the yang-world officialdom in a single county, she probably knew less than this out-of-town Daoist.
The youth kept silent, just eating his head down. Clearly, he wasn't listening, only thinking that the Daoist was a nag who liked to play the teacher.
The Daoist didn't mind. He raised his cup with both hands: "No unpleasant topics at the table. Miss Xue, let's have a drink."
The youth finished eating and left, saying goodbye to Sister Xue. He had to participate in the prefectural exam personally presided over by the education commissioner soon, and the pressure was considerable.
As the Daoist cleared the dishes and chopsticks, he asked with a chuckle: "Miss Xue, do you think Zhang Hou doesn't like listening to my reasoning because he thinks I'm a river-lake swindler? Or does he genuinely think I'm unreasonable, so he doesn't listen? Or maybe if some successful, famous person said the same things, then they would be considered reason?"
She frowned, but quickly relaxed her brow. Trying to sound casual, she said: "Zhang Hou isn't an old hand like you who's traveled north and south. He's a simple youth. How could he think that far?"
The Daoist smiled: "The word 'simple' cures all ills."
She immediately became displeased.
The Daoist quickly clarified: "Absolutely a compliment!"
After cleaning up the dishes and bowls, the Daoist finished his work in the kitchen, washed his hands, and flicked his sleeves. He saw Miss Xue leaning against the doorframe, looking worried.
The middle-aged Daoist was a shrewd one. He laughed: "With Zhang Hou's knowledge, let alone smooth passage through the prefectural exam, when he takes the provincial and metropolitan exams later, he'll only ride the spring breeze with rapid hooves. Why worry, Miss Xue? When the results are posted, I'll be the first to come and report the good news."
Xue Ruyi smiled and asked, "Do you think Zhang Hou will smoothly pass the exams and get his name on the golden list?"
The Daoist thought for a moment. "Passing the metropolitan exam and becoming a jinshi shouldn't be a big problem. I've read a few of Zhang Hou's examination essays. His brushwork is seasoned, and especially his official script style is upright yet charming. No matter who serves as the chief examiner for this spring's session, whoever sees it will like it."
At Xue Ruyi's request, the Daoist often went to the capital's book market to buy bound collections of model examination essays for the youth. The Daoist was slick and didn't miss the chance to pocket some price difference.
The Daoist walked to his own door. The female ghost floated along after him. The Daoist took out his key but didn't hurry to open the door. She laughed: "What's so secret inside? Could it be that Daoist Wu has a hidden beauty in this chamber?"
The Daoist said with righteous indignation: "Late at night, after all, men and women should not touch each other. A solitary man and a lone woman sharing a house requires avoidance of suspicion."
She sneered: "You're a Daoist, not some daysaying 'the Way' every day moralist."
The Daoist said with great righteousness: "I have also read many books of the sages. If I hadn't mistakenly entered the mountains in my youth and embarked on the path of cultivation, I would have already sought fame and entered the official career."
She took a brush holder out of her sleeve, shaking her wrist, and murmured to herself: "Such a fine study ornament, where should I put it?"
The Daoist's eyes lit up. With lightning speed, he opened the door, pushed it gently, then stepped aside and stretched out a palm: "Clear sky and bright moon, as long as the heart is clear, what fear of gossip? Miss Xue, please come in quickly."
The residence had many rooms, but the Daoist had specifically chosen a small room as his living quarters. According to him, a house can be big, but a sleeping room must be small to gather qi.
Spring warmth had turned, and insect sounds penetrated the green window screen for the first time.
Entering the room, she placed the red-lacquer, gold-traced, entwined-lotus carved, openwork dragon-through-zhi six-sided brush holder gently on the table.
The Daoist took out a fire striker and lit an oil lamp on the table.
Earlier, in the main hall's flower hall used for receiving guests, this brush holder had been placed there. The Daoist was a connoisseur and was extremely envious.
At the time, he had said he wasn't envious, just that seeing a fine object, everyone has a love for beauty — appreciation, purely appreciation.
Actually, she also had a treasured bamboo flute that she had kept for many years, quite old, engraved with a vertical line of green-filled inscription: "Hero's heart for immortal's tune."
The Daoist had fallen for it at first sight and was willing to pay a high price. "High price" was relative to ordinary household expenses — two hundred taels of silver. She didn't even want to hear it.
On the desk lay a whole piece of glass mirror sheet covering the entire surface.
Seeing a stack of neatly copied sutras written in small regular script, she asked doubtfully: "You're a Daoist, why are you copying Buddhist sutras?"
The Daoist smiled: "Occasionally, to calm the mind."
The Daoist moved two chairs and sat far apart from each other. Xue Ruyi sat down, leaning sideways with her elbow on the armrest, just looking at that middle-aged Daoist.
The Daoist, uncomfortable under her gaze, asked: "Miss Xue, you honor my humble abode tonight — is there any instruction?"
Xue Ruyi said: "An old saying goes: 'A distant relative is not as good as a close neighbor.' Wu Di, do you think that's reasonable?"
The Daoist nodded: "Of course. These old sayings are the most reasonable, very chewy."
She hesitated for a moment and then said: "I do have a favor to ask. I hope you can help deliver Zhang Hou's poetry draft manuscript to a Hanlin Academy scholar."
The Daoist was speechless for a laugh. He pondered for a moment, glanced at the expensive brush holder on the table, "I'm afraid I'll only see the gatekeeper, not the esteemed scholar himself."
Xue Ruyi sighed faintly.
The Daoist wondered in his heart: Why was she so flustered? Did she so desperately want Zhang Hou to leap through the dragon gate via the imperial examinations? If it was about wealth, with her family background, she could ensure the youth several lifetimes of comfort. Even if Zhang Hou was already a covert qi refiner, before reaching the middle five realms, everything he needed could be provided by her. Besides, Zhang Hou was so young; if he wanted to advance through the examinations, there was no need to rush like this.
The female ghost Xue Ruyi and the youth Zhang Hou usually called each other brother and sister. It was clear that Zhang Hou had some awareness of her ghostly nature.
She said self-deprecatingly: "I'm like a sick person rushing to see any doctor. If Zhang Hou finds out about this, he'll resent me for life."
In the Daoist's view, the youth was undoubtedly a seed for scholarship, but not much of a good cultivation material. Ordinary aptitude, barring surprises, it would be hard for him to reach the Cave Abode realm.
Mortals, in wealthy families, being pampered and honored, focused on 'dwelling nourishes qi, movement nourishes the body.' On the other hand, qi refiners, whether human, ghost, or spirit, had a different subtlety: 'dwelling nourishes the body, movement nourishes qi.' Seeming to do the opposite, even if not secluded in a mountain cave dwelling, they just needed to sit in a clean room, gather scattered thoughts into one quiet thought, the body's sinews and bones unmoving, but the qi and blood travel with the soul in divine wandering, slowly absorbing the heaven and earth's spiritual qi, refining the hundred bones as if gold branches and jade leaves, thus creating the distinction between immortal and mortal.
This residence occupied a large area, especially the backyard with many ancient trees. In the dead of night, a few cries of the cuckoo sounded.
The female ghost stood up and smiled: "Wu Di, just pretend I never said this."
The Daoist also stood up, "It's fine. If someday such an action is needed, just let me know, Miss Xue. Let alone a high-threshold scholar's mansion, even if it's a mountain of knives or a sea of fire, I'll go."
The female ghost smiled brilliantly, "Daoist Wu, not becoming a hanger-on for those capital nobles is truly a waste of talent."
The Daoist said helplessly, "Hanger-on and lackey sound so ugly. Miss Xue could at least say 'strategist' or 'adviser.'"
She reached out, took the brush holder back into her sleeve, and drifted away leisurely.
The Daoist couldn't stop her and could only watch the cooked duck fly away.
The female ghost walked alone through the corridors and passages, arrived at the back courtyard, and climbed to the upper floor. From here, she could see the youth in the neighboring house, the yellow light from his study window.
A single moon aroused the sound of fulling cloth from ten thousand households, waking countless spring boudoir dreamers.
The Daoist tidied up the sutras he had copied on the table, opened a drawer, took out carving knives and stone material, and began to carve seals. Among them were a pair of identical book-collection seals whose bottom inscriptions had already been carved. He added two lines of side inscriptions to each.
"Practice all good deeds, avoid all evil acts. Give kindness without remembering, receive grace without forgetting."
With practiced skill, he finished carving the seals. Then, by lamplight, he flipped through a local gazetteer. The woodblock printing in the Jade Xuan Kingdom capital was extremely developed. He had bought many good books here.
Reading new books was like a long drought meeting a timely rain. Flipping through old books was like a short separation meeting a newlywed.
Copying books requires sitting upright; flipping through miscellaneous books was more casual. The Daoist crossed his legs, took out a handful of melon seeds, and cracked them while turning pages.
Outside the window, the cuckoo's call sounded again.
The middle-aged Daoist muttered to himself: "A thousand generations of people, worn away in a few sounds. Diligence and serenity, not too bitter nor too withered."
On this journey, this "Daoist" who learned to set up a stall from Lu Chen was here to collect an old debt from a certain household.
Thus, on one of those seals, the bottom inscription was two characters: "After Autumn."
Chen Ping'an took out the Sword-Nurturing Gourd, walked to the window, and for a long time looked up. He drank the wine inside in one go, his eyes growing brighter.
He closed his eyes, as if listening to the sound of a torrential rain from many years ago.
——
Beyond the sky, seven or eight stars.
On the outskirts of the capital, by the roadside, there was a thatched hut wine shop. A noble young master dressed in a fox-fur robe lay drunk, his limbs sprawled out. He held a gold-wrapped horsewhip in his arms, his head pillowed on the thigh of a woman beside him.
By the stall, a woman was like the moon, her white wrists like frozen snow. The beautiful woman sat on the ground, her skirt spread like a red flower. Her hands moved gently as she leaned over and helped massage the young master's brow.
On the official road in the night, the sound of horse hooves rang out. The lead rider was a young woman riding a magnificent blue stallion, followed by a group of spirited, healthy young girls, all wearing swords.
Moreover, these young girls, not very old, breathed long and deep, definitely not just a show. A connoisseur would know they were martial artists trained by a clear teacher.
She dismounted and looked at that noble young master hiding there enjoying himself. She was furious. Her slender eyebrows shot up, and she raised her horse whip high, giving it a fierce crack, like a firecracker.
The beautiful woman selling wine here looked up at the young woman coming to demand an explanation. She smiled seductively, extended a finger to her lips, and gently shushed, signaling not to disturb the young man's spring slumber.
The young woman didn't even look at that vixen; one more look would dirty her eyes. She strode quickly into the wine shop and kicked the young man, who was sleeping like a dead pig, hard. "Ma Yanshan! Stop pretending to be dead!"
This young man and woman bore some resemblance. The noble young master called by his name opened his eyes, yawned, rubbed his sleep-filled eyes, sat up, and asked with a smile: "What now? Who's gotten on your nerves? Just tell your second brother, I guarantee it won't last overnight."
The woman was angry at his lack of ambition. In the future, would the family have to rely on such a lazy guy to shoulder the heavy burden? She wished she could slap the whip across his face. "Ma Yanshan, look at you, a hopeless drunkard! You're not even fit to hold Ma Che's reins!"
Ma Yanshan grinned cheekily: "Little cousin? He's just been studying dead books since childhood. Three years old shows the old. I'm not cursing him, but I think he won't amount to much in the future."
"Even if, by some chance, he studies well and becomes a high official, so what? Besides, wasn't I a tanhua graduate myself? That little brat Ma Che, if he's got the skill, let him achieve a top-three overall. I, as his older brother, will personally throw him a banquet. Six ministries, nine court ministers — how many chief officials does he want to toast him? Five enough? If not, I can call ten..."
Here, the noble young master raised the arm holding the gold whip, shook it, then raised his other hand, laughing: "I'm just afraid Ma Che won't appreciate it."
Ma Che was a recognized child prodigy, a typical white-robed scholar who already had the reputation of a minister.
Unlike this sloppy "Ma Tanhua", Ma Che grew up in a wealth of flowers, a money-sinking den, having already read ten thousand books as a youth.
Seeing that the woman was about to hit him, Ma Yanshan could only beg for mercy: "Ma Yuemei, good little sister, I'm afraid of you. Tell me, what earth-shattering matter is worth you personally coming to drag me home?"
Ma Yuemei glared and scolded: "Family matters! Go home and talk!"
Ma Yanshan smiled: "It's fine. Madam Song is not an outsider."
The beautiful woman looked helpless. She certainly didn't dare to meddle in the Ma family's household affairs.
The capital of the Jade Xuan Kingdom, about twenty years ago, had a family surnamed Ma move in. As soon as they arrived, they bought a former prime minister's mansion at a high price.
Within a country, so-called wealthy families were divided into three categories. The first type was known to many commoners — there were many such rich families. The second type was known to all commoners, but countable on one hand. The last type was known neither to all the commoners nor to almost the entire local officialdom — they hadn't even heard of them.
The Ma family belonged to the last type. Clearly both rich and noble, they were not famous. Only a small group of top ministers and a few mountain sects in the central court had heard of this immigrant family. Their precise origins were mysterious, with only a few unverifiable rumors. Some said the Ma family was the "money bag" of a certain Great Pillar of State surname in the Great Li Dynasty. Others said it was because the current head of household had a very accomplished eldest son who had gone up the mountain to cultivate, extremely talented, already a land immortal at a young age.
When one person attains the Dao, even his chickens and dogs ascend to heaven. The entire family rose with him.
The biggest restaurant in the capital, an immortal inn, and the immortal ferry in the capital's suburbs — all were private properties of the Ma family. Additionally, they had numerous banks and mines, but these were registered under various puppets that the family had fostered. They might be the servants of some prince or princess, the beloved son of some vice minister, or a distant relative of a grain transport governor.
For instance, this slacker Ma Yanshan had participated in the imperial examinations as a youth, overcoming all obstacles, riding a white horse, becoming a tanhua in the capital.
But in fact, it was his sister Ma Yuemei who took the exam for him. He, as the elder brother, got the tanhua status for free. Now he held a post in the Hanlin Academy but was too lazy to even show up. As for assessments, they never reached him. In the Jade Xuan Kingdom capital, from the Ministry of Rites to the Hanlin Academy, from top to bottom, not a word was leaked.
This showed how exaggerated the Ma family's power was.
Back when the whole clan moved to the Jade Xuan Kingdom capital, after twenty years of branching out, with four generations under one roof, plus several branch houses, the latest compiled genealogy had over a hundred people.
Although the Ma family was an outsider, if they wanted to control the court, they could have, but they had no such intention. This was actually thanks to the shrewd mother of Ma Yanshan and Ma Yuemei.
Ma Yanshan squinted: "Let me guess. Could it be... he's finally come home?"
Ma Yuemei was silent.
Ma Yanshan said calmly: "We two have this biological older brother, not a cousin or a relative. A true biological brother. Hey, Yuemei, tell me, after all these years, from the time we were born until today, has he ever seen us even once?"
Ma Yanshan shook his head, extended one finger, and smiled: "If I remember correctly, seems, maybe, probably, not even once, ah."
The noble young master wrapped in white fox fur leaned back, crossed his legs, "Such a family-minded good big brother. Where can you find one like that?"
Ma Yuemei said darkly: "Stop spouting nonsense! Get your ass home now!"
In her heart, she had always revered that older brother she had never even seen as a god. If Ma Yanshan weren't her second brother, she would have whipped him already.
Actually, after the great war that swept half the continent ended and the world returned to peace, both siblings had thought of going back to their hometown to pay respects at the ancestral graves in previous years. But their parents, who usually doted on them immensely, were absolutely opposed to this one thing, making all kinds of excuses. They only said that the family had moved out so many years ago and the journey was far. They were probably worried that Ma Yanshan and Ma Yuemei would sneak away, so they strictly forbid the siblings from returning home without permission, threatening family law if they did.
The two had brought it up several times with their parents, but it didn't work, so they dropped the idea.
Because the family had an immortal ferry and two private ferry boats running trade to the south, they could often get news bulletins from the mountains. So both siblings were curious about their ancestral hometown. But unlike his sister Ma Yuemei, who yearned for that Lithe Pearl Cave Heaven, Ma Yanshan wasn't interested in the mystical mountain stuff. This idle, drunkard, wastrel only was curious about one thing: the Night Wandering Banquet at the North Sacred Peak Piyun Mountain. Ma Yanshan wanted to attend it in person once, just to see the world and be satisfied.
Ma Yanshan stood up, laughed: "Fine, fine. Go back and tell Mom and Dad I'll definitely come home tonight. If you don't see me within two hours, send someone to break my legs!"
Ma Yuemei turned and left. Ma Yanshan secretly winked at a sword-wielding girl on horseback. She was expressionless, but immediately received a harsh whip from Ma Yuemei, leaving a bloody gash on the girl's face. The girl remained motionless.
Ma Yanshan was also unmoved. When they had ridden off into the distance, he lay back on the floor and casually asked: "Is my big brother very powerful?"
The beautiful woman smiled seductively and nodded: "Of course. So powerful it's unimaginable."
Saying this, her eyes clouded, and she sighed faintly. What a pity she had never been able to meet him.
She was the local mountain god.
The mountain was named Ere.
According to the current landscape registry, she was of the seventh-rank divine position.
In a vassal state, it was better than some, worse than others.
Ma Yanshan looked dazed: "Since he's my real brother, why doesn't he care whether we do well or badly?"
She smiled and explained: "According to the mountain's teachings, when one enters the mountains to cultivate, the ties with the six relations are thin. It's not appropriate to get too involved."
Ma Yanshan snorted: "Just say 'abandon relatives entirely.'"
She hesitated for a moment, then leaned down, using two fingers to gently massage Ma Yanshan's temples, and whispered: "It's better not to say such petulant words in the future."
For her, a mountain god of such a small country, that sibling's big brother was an existence so far away, so unattainable.
A forty-something Jade Pure realm cultivator, certain to become an Immortal realm, possibly even a Flying Ascension realm.
The number one among the continent's young talents under forty.
Behind him were Liu Baqiao, the Nascent Soul realm sword immortal from Wind Thunder Garden, the disciple of the Immortal Liu Laocheng from True Realm Sect, and a young vice-mountain head of Guanhu Academy...
Isn't that unattainable?
The most incomprehensible thing was that this person could command many ancient gods!
She was even worried that if she were lucky enough to see him someday, and said something wrong, he might just snap his fingers and her golden body would shatter.
Noticing the woman's subtle unease, Ma Yanshan sat up again, managed to pull a flask of wine from under her skirt. The woman chuckled. He took a big gulp of the immortal brew, wiped his mouth with his thumb, "I've heard that my big brother has a bad temper. It's a known fact across the continent. I heard that when he was studying at the Military Ancestral Court, he even attacked his own fellow disciples, crippling several so-called cultivation prodigies. He's a troublemaker of the highest order."
The mountain goddess, pretending to be a wine seller here, said softly: "Having such a big brother is a blessing cultivated over several lifetimes. Yanshan, take my advice. If you ever meet him, don't sulk with him."
Ma Yanshan ignored her advice. For some reason, he seemed worried.
The woman asked, puzzled: "What's wrong?"
Ma Yanshan shook the wine flask, looked up at the night sky: "Do you think it will rain tomorrow?"
The woman covered her mouth and laughed: "Certainly not."
Ma Yanshan murmured: "But one day, it will definitely thunder and rain, won't it?"
If an ordinary drinker had said something so foolish, the mountain goddess would have just pretended not to hear. But she knew very well that this Ma Yanshan, outwardly rotten, was not simple.
Just the western foothill's crown mountain's god, Madam Song's immediate superior, thought highly of Ma Yanshan and often privately entertained him.
She thought for a moment and said: "Rain will definitely come eventually. But as long as you have a big umbrella to hold up, even if the sky rains knives, there's no fear."
Ma Yanshan's expression was still gloomy. He pulled his fox-fur collar tighter and cursed softly: "Damn late spring cold."
Although Ma Yanshan spent his days amid pleasures and had a notorious reputation, he had a sharper intuition about human affairs than his seemingly smarter sister.
To be honest, Ma Yanshan saw his sister Ma Yuemei as a fool. But she was still his own flesh-and-blood sister. She had a bad temper, but Ma Yanshan never held it against her.
Ma Yanshan remembered when he was little, one late night he was taking a walk, following the light, and passed by his father's study. He found his parents talking inside. His father was inexplicably furious, repeatedly cursing "bastard," saying that a little brat who deserved an early death and early transcendence had stepped in dog shit to attach himself to a mountain lord... The more he talked, the angrier he got, and he even smashed an expensive official kiln brush holder. His mother then complained that it was three hundred taels of silver, just smashed away. She said his ability to waste was greater than his ability to earn.
Then his mother started badmouthing that man surnamed Wei, saying he wasn't anything good. According to the news sent back, he seemed to be a lowly earth spirit from near Chess Pier Mountain in Red Candle Town...
A child, at that time, just silently crouched at the base of the wall, ears perked up.
Perhaps moving back then was like hiding from someone?
Especially in recent years, this anxiety of his parents became more apparent. Because at the immortal inn and ferry, people had been assigned to gather intelligence on the old Dragon Province of the Great Li Dynasty. News about Piyun Mountain and Oxhorn Ferry, regardless of size or detail, was secretly recorded.
Logically, this made no sense. Ma Yanshan knew best the Ma family's foundation. His father was extremely skilled at management, a born merchant. His mother also had great insight and boldness, often even more decisive than his father. In Ma Yanshan's words, she was particularly "good at making things happen." Among the capital's noblewomen of sufficient rank, there were few, less than a handful. They weren't ordinary wealthy or noble, yet now they all seemed to "look to the Ma family as their leader." Hey, "look to the Ma family as their leader" — that phrasing was great, perfect.
If it weren't for him, this unfilial son who liked to cause trouble and was beyond saving, the Ma family, with its interwoven powers, would have long stepped from behind the scenes in the Jade Xuan Kingdom to the front stage.
Of course, in a big forest, there are all kinds of birds. A few branch-line young masters outside the main clan seemed even worse than him. They were masters of eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling, and even caused several deaths. Over so many years, he had cleaned up after them plenty. There were also some things that couldn't be exposed. He just pretended not to know. For example, there was an imperial manor in the capital's suburbs that had secretly set up a prison, used specifically for killing for pleasure. A group of Jade Xuan Kingdom capital's wealthy young masters often held so-called "autumn hunts," going in groups to several small countries to the south. Led by local noble sons, they rode horses with bows on their backs, specifically targeting rural villages, either slashing with swords or shooting arrows... Afterward, the local authorities would close the case under the pretext of bandits, even swindling the court into giving military funds for "training." Among these powerful young masters, there were two Ma branch-line members.
Ma Yanshan had once witnessed a timid, well-born youth. Originally, he could probably be considered a study seed similar to their own Ma Che. After participating in one autumn hunt aboard an immortal ferry, the youth's gaze when meeting others became unusually sharp.
His sister Ma Yuemei had found this strange. Ma Yanshan only joked that boys grow up and wake up at the right time — what was so strange? Didn't believe him? Look at him now when looking at women — does he only look at the face? He's also looking at chests and butts and long legs!
The Ma family wasn't conspicuous in the capital. The street where they had carefully chosen their residence was actually filled with fallen noble families whose ancestors had once been wealthy. Many neighbors for twenty years even mistook the Ma family for nouveau riche with some money. In daily interactions, they might even look down on the Ma family for just having a few stinking coins.
But the painted door gods on the Ma family gate, the family's enshrined cultivators, and the several fifth- or sixth-level boxing masters acting as bodyguards...
Ma Yanshan had roughly estimated that, with the Ma family's visible and hidden foundation, dealing with a business rival or enemy in the Jade Xuan Kingdom was too easy. Even flattening a third-rate immortal mansion on the mountains of Bottle Gourd Continent would be enough.
Ma Yanshan shook off his scattered thoughts, reached out, and patted the beautiful woman's cheek: "I'll definitely help with the mountain renaming."
This mountain goddess had always felt the name Ere Mountain was ugly and wanted to change it to "Eyao."
The woman wasn't angry but smiled. She performed a bow and thanked Ma Yanshan.
Ma Yanshan walked out of the wine shop, put his thumb to his forefinger, and whistled. Soon, a bay horse without a halter came running.
The drunken noble young master climbed onto the horse skillfully, slapped the gold whip hard, and galloped wildly down the official road.
On a hill near the Ere Mountain shrine temple, a young man sat on a branch of an ancient pine tree. He looked at the wine shop at the foot of the distant mountain. The riding party came and went, finally leaving just that noble young master in the fox-fur robe, whipping his horse and galloping.
He stood up. The view was wide. Ere Mountain had always been famous for its steep height in both court and society. All the surrounding mountains were within sight. Distant mountains stretched like court officials holding jade tablets; near mountains were beautiful like ladies with coiled black hair.
This body felt as if in a giant sea, green waves raising their heads and then bowing.
This young man, setting foot on the Jade Xuan Kingdom's landscape for the first time, was utterly alone. He clasped his hands behind his head, gazing into the distance at the bustling capital, bright as daylight.
He pulled at the corner of his mouth and murmured to himself: "Immortality is the cage of immortality; eternal life is the price of eternal life."
His form flickered and vanished.
At the foot of the mountain, at the wine shop, the beautiful woman was closing the door. She turned to look at the young man walking slowly towards her and smiled seductively: "Honored guest, I'm sorry, the wine shop is closing."
The young man laughed: "Since you open for business, a little while won't matter."
The woman frowned. If she couldn't see through the other's cultivation depth, she wouldn't care about this little wine money. She forced a smile: "Young master, the shop is small, but the wine is expensive."
The young man nodded: "No matter the price, just put it on Ma Yanshan's tab."
The woman's heart tightened. An embroidered shoe lightly ground the soil, barely perceptibly, as she tried to connect with the golden statue in the Ere Mountain shrine.
The young man slowly walked towards the wine shop. But when his first step landed, the mountain goddess was horrified to find she had lost contact with the shrine.
Just as the young man was about to brush past the stiffened mountain goddess, he suddenly reached out, hooked his arm around her neck, and dragged her backward. After a few steps, as if finding her a burden, he pushed her gently. The beautiful woman fell into the shop. The young man walked in, sat down on the ground, propped himself on one knee, then waved his hand: "Hurry up, brew two pots of the shop's most expensive wine. The older the vintage, the better."
The woman staggered to her feet, trembling with fear, and stammered: "Little god Ere Mountain Song Yu, dare I ask the immortal master's name?"
"I had good luck, was born into a good family. Same surname as Ma Yanshan."
The young man grinned: "Since you're so close to my precious younger brother, just call me by my name: Ma Kuxuan."
Song Yu's face turned pale.
Ma Kuxuan asked: "What, do I have to brew the wine myself and serve you?"
While the Ere Mountain god was busy brewing wine, Ma Kuxuan faced the shop's open door, propping his chin on one hand, staring fixedly at the dense clumps of wild grass growing thick by the roadside.
If he hadn't come to the Jade Xuan Kingdom capital, he'd probably only be here to collect the bodies.
Funny, wasn't it. The Alley of Apricot Flowers, him, and that Mud Vase Alley mud-legged surname Chen — one was considered a fool by peers, the other a jinx everyone avoided like the plague. Later, they left their hometown around the same time, it seemed. Both seemed to enjoy wandering far from home; they had actually spent little time in their homeland.
New grudges turned into old hatreds. Resentment like spring grass, the wanderer goes further and further, still growing.
It was also like a jar of wine aged for forty-odd years, placed on a table by someone. Both parties at the table had to drink whether they wanted to or not. The one who gets drunk dies; the one who stays sober lives.