Chapter 30: The Yue Maiden
After the division of spoils—no, the division of swords—Zhe Xiu had no energy or interest in chatting with them. He closed his eyes again. Chen Changsheng took his pulse, confirming that his injuries were indeed improving, which relieved him somewhat. Yet he also noticed some new issues in his meridians; the rhythm of his "heart tide" was coming much slower than before. Could this be a sign of depleted true essence? Chen Changsheng dared not dwell on that possibility. He dimmed the oil lamp, sheathed the Sword Mountain once more, and gestured for Tang Thirty-Six and Xuan Yuan Po to follow him out of the Scripture Library.
“Is he going to be okay?” Tang Thirty-Six asked.
Chen Changsheng didn’t answer directly. Instead, he asked, “Zhou Tong… what kind of person is he, really?”
Earlier today, when they left the Qingli Department office and saw Zhe Xiu’s wretched state in the carriage, Chen Changsheng had already made a silent resolution. But he also remembered clearly: standing in that quiet little courtyard, with crabapple blossoms falling like snow, the spiritual pressure and sheer terror Zhou Tong’s red official robe had imposed on them. He wanted to know how long he would have to wait before he could truly face that terror head-on.
“Zhou Tong lied. He doesn’t have a sister.”
That afternoon, the Tang family of Wenshui had delivered the relevant intelligence.
Tang Thirty-Six continued, “He didn’t meet Her Majesty in front of some prince’s mansion either. It was at the Hundred Herbs Garden. Back then, he was probably still at the Meditation Realm, but his cultivation skyrocketed afterward, and he soon succeeded in Gathering Stars. Word has it that when he was carrying out Her Majesty’s orders to purge those prince’s estates, he secretly took many heavenly treasures and earthly rarities.”
“Doesn’t the Saint Empress care about such things?” Chen Changsheng naturally didn’t think the Saint Empress was unaware; he just used the word “care.”
Tang Thirty-Six shook his head. “Zhou Tong’s most formidable technique is called the ‘Great Red Robe.’ It’s a spirit-based cultivation method, said to be able to forcibly invade a cultivator’s Sea of Consciousness.”
Chen Changsheng and Xuan Yuan Po recalled the sea of blood they had seen in that courtyard today, and a chill crept over them again. Tang Thirty-Six went on, “When the Great Red Robe is activated, Zhou Tong can easily crush our Sea of Consciousness. Of course, he won’t do that—but if you two are thinking of avenging Zhe Xiu right now, you’ll definitely taste that feeling.”
This was both a reminder and a warning.
Chen Changsheng was puzzled. “Since he doesn’t dare kill us anyway, why did he activate the Great Red Robe in that courtyard today? Just to intimidate?”
“Zhou Tong is brutal and cunning, but his schemes are exceptional. Logically, he wouldn’t do something so pointless.”
Tang Thirty-Six couldn’t figure it out either, his sword-like brows lifting slightly. “At the time, I felt he was trying to shake our Dao hearts with that sea of blood, and then see something.”
“See what?” Xuan Yuan Po interjected. “Anyway, I’m not afraid. I have no secrets.”
Chen Changsheng fell silent, because he had many secrets.
In truth, when he first arrived in the capital from Xining Town, his secrets were only about his body. But as time passed, his secrets multiplied. The Heavenly Book Stele in the Zhou Garden. The black obsidian coffin in the Zhou Tomb. The two-sword technique inscribed on the coffin’s wall. And… the possibility that the Zhou Garden might not have been destroyed at all—that the path to it now lay inside his sword sheath.
Back in the small building, he bathed, calmed his mind, and then sat in stillness.
He went to the window, glanced at the sea of stars in the night sky, and sat cross-legged on the floor. Closing his eyes, he began to meditate, preparing for his nightly practice: drawing starlight to cleanse his marrow, and then attempting once more to find the path to the Zhou Garden through the phantom of that black stone stele.
But perhaps because he had grown used to cultivating in the Scripture Library, or because the spiritual shock from the Zhou Prison today had been too great, he found it unusually hard to enter a meditative state.
Then, a faint, elusive fragrance drifted to his nose, and he understood why he couldn’t calm his mind. It wasn’t those reasons—it was because someone had arrived.
Mo Yu floated out from the night forest of the National Academy, drifted directly to the window, and then floated inside.
Under the starlight, she was beautiful, as if untouched by the mortal world.
Her movements were so familiar, as if she had rehearsed them countless times.
But she hadn’t expected Chen Changsheng to be sitting cross-legged on the floor behind the window tonight. So when she floated into the small building and crouched down, she ended up right in front of him.
The distance between them was very close. Their noses almost touched. Eyes met eyes.
The scene was awkward.
Fortunately, Mo Yu’s breath was like orchid, and Chen Changsheng was as clean as the sky after rain, so neither felt too irritated.
A night breeze stirred, and a strand of black hair drifted onto Chen Changsheng’s face, tickling him. He frowned.
Mo Yu flew to the bed, her movements indeed very practiced, as if she had done it a thousand times.
Chen Changsheng knew about her peculiar habit, but he still couldn’t understand it, let alone accept it.
“You’re not planning to sleep in my bed again, are you?” he asked.
“Is that not allowed? You won’t be using this bed right now anyway.”
Mo Yu sounded perfectly justified, but under the starlight, a faint blush could be seen on her face.
Chen Changsheng said helplessly, “But I’m here right now. Why did you come?”
Mo Yu replied, “You’re usually cultivating in the Scripture Library at this hour. Who knew your brain would malfunction today and you’d come back so early?”
Chen Changsheng felt innocent. He thought, *So it’s my fault?*
Then he thought of Luo Luo. He realized he hadn’t seen much of her lately, and they rarely spoke. For some reason, his mood sank.
Mo Yu noticed his expression and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Zhe Xiu’s injuries are too severe. He’s resting in the Scripture Library. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I came back early.”
Mo Yu looked at him, then furrowed her brow slightly. “I thought you’d be angrier by now.”
She and Chen Changsheng hadn’t met many times, so they weren’t close. Before Chen Changsheng left the Heavenly Book Mausoleum, their statuses were too far apart. But for some reason, ever since their first encounter in the palace, she found that Chen Changsheng easily provoked her anger. Anger was an emotion, which meant he could easily affect her feelings.
This was something she couldn’t understand.
Even more puzzling was how a sixteen-year-old like Chen Changsheng could control his emotions so well.
Chen Changsheng didn’t answer her question.
What happened today in the Zhou Prison—especially Zhe Xiu’s horrific state—naturally affected his emotions. But since childhood, Senior Brother Yu Ren had taught him a simple truth, and later in Xunyang City, he had understood it even more deeply. Some things should be silently remembered, not displayed. They only needed to be done. Impulse and passion were never synonyms. Calmness never meant cowardice. Even if everyone thought him a coward, he wouldn’t care—especially not with Mo Yu standing before him.
He and Mo Yu were not friends. He knew very well how terrifying this famous beauty of the Great Zhou Dynasty was, especially after today.
The entire continent knew that Mo Yu and Zhou Tong were the two people the Saint Empress trusted most. If Zhou Tong was this terrifying, how could she be any different?
“Shouldn’t you say ‘long time no see’?” Mo Yu said.
Strictly speaking, they hadn’t met since the Grand Examination ended.
But Chen Changsheng didn’t see the need to say that, because he had never wanted to meet her. She just kept appearing before him.
Three sentences in a row, and Chen Changsheng hadn’t responded. This soured Mo Yu’s mood. Her eyes narrowed, sharp… like willow leaves outside the palace walls—very beautiful.
“You’re hostile toward me,” she said.
Chen Changsheng replied, “You should be very clear about the current situation in the capital.”
Mo Yu laughed, a hint of mockery in her voice. “Do you really think you’re qualified to be considered Her Majesty’s enemy?”
Chen Changsheng said, “Even if I were qualified, I wouldn’t want to be Her Majesty’s enemy. But clearly, the people on your side don’t think that way.”
He was referring to the new rules of the Academy Competition, and the suppression of the National Academy by the Tianhai family and the new faction of the National Church.
Mo Yu’s smile faded. “What others think has nothing to do with what you do.”
Chen Changsheng said, “I came to the capital only to cultivate and learn. I never thought I’d get involved in these great affairs. But do you think I can avoid it?”
Mo Yu’s voice turned cold. “Why can’t you avoid it? Just because you’re the sole heir of the National Church’s orthodox lineage?”
That was certainly a strong reason, because people couldn’t deny their sect background and past—that would mean denying themselves. But it wasn’t the whole reason. Chen Changsheng had once cared more about his cultivation speed and defying fate to change his destiny. Later, he found he had to care about whether Luo Luo’s meridians could be unblocked, whether Xuan Yuan Po’s right arm could be healed, whether Zhe Xiu’s “heart tide” problem could be solved, when Tang Thirty-Six would finally get a name he was satisfied with, and most importantly… whether the gates of the National Academy could remain intact.
He hadn’t forgotten what Bishop Meilisha had said to him before he died.
Besides pursuing what he wanted and what he had to obtain, wasn’t the process of growing up about taking on one responsibility after another?
Mo Yu stood up, looking down at him with an indifferent expression. “Her Majesty is invincible.”
Now she had transformed back into the formidable figure who could silence a hundred officials. But Chen Changsheng’s attitude toward her didn’t change. Thinking of the storm in Xunyang City, and Wang Po’s plain words when Zhu Luo and the Stargazer appeared together, he said, “…I want to try.”
Of course, he could never defeat the Saint Empress. That didn’t even need testing.
He just wanted to try, to see if he and the National Academy could withstand this raging tide.
Mo Yu suddenly lost the desire to talk. She walked toward the exit of the small building, still habitually treating the window as the main door.
As she passed by him, a thought struck Chen Changsheng. He asked uncertainly, “When I was in the Heavenly Book Mausoleum and the Zhou Garden… were you sleeping in my bed the whole time?”
Mo Yu was a bit flustered and angry. “So what if I was?”
Chen Changsheng was helpless. He had no way to deal with this. Young as he was, he was still a man, and there was no one to reason with about this. Besides, he couldn’t beat her.
“Then…” He hesitated for a long time before finally saying, “In the future, remember to bathe often. It’s best if you come after a bath.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was wrong, because it sounded very suggestive.
Sure enough, Mo Yu’s delicate brows shot up, her beautiful face full of murderous intent. “Do you want to die?”
Chen Changsheng knew he had overstepped and quickly said, “Sorry, sorry.”
Mo Yu’s expression softened slightly. “If apologies were useful, would you be able to spare Zhou Tong in the future?”
Chen Changsheng said seriously, “Of course not.”
Mo Yu said, “So, words are never as sincere as gifts.”
Chen Changsheng was stunned. He thought, *With your status in the Great Zhou Dynasty, except for someone like Tang Thirty-Six, who dares to claim they’re richer than you? What could I possibly give you?*
“I heard… you have a Yue Maiden Sword here?”
Mo Yu smiled at him, a radiant smile. “Isn’t that a coincidence? When I was little, Her Majesty just happened to teach me that sword technique.”
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