Chapter 550: A Date in the Mausoleum of Books
Hot Recommendations: , , , , , , ,
"Men really are all lechers. They say Dean Chen doesn't care for women, but that's clearly false now. The moment he saw how beautiful the Holy Maiden is, he immediately regretted it, didn't he?"
The ones saying such things were all married women.
"Who could keep a heart as hard as iron after seeing the Holy Maiden's true face? Besides, Dean Chen and the Holy Maiden were already betrothed. How could he control himself?"
Those expressing cautious understanding of Chen Changsheng, yet still speaking with teasing undertones, were all men.
"Do you think the Dean was foolish back then, insisting on breaking off the engagement?"
"Who said the Dean broke off the engagement? Wasn't it always just a rumor, never confirmed?"
"News has already spread from the Li Palace. Over at the Zhechong Hall, there's no trace of the marriage contract anymore."
"So what if he broke it off?"
"I'm just curious about what really happened back then."
"It's a long story. They say two years ago, in the spring, the Dean came from Xining Town to the capital and knocked on the door of the Eastern General's Mansion..."
"Tsk, tsk. To suffer such humiliation and suppression from the General's Mansion—even I couldn't bear it, let alone the Dean."
"The Dean worked hard and rose to prominence later. Maybe it was the shock of that treatment that drove him. Now that he's succeeded, of course he wants to slap the General's Mansion in the face. So they say, don't bully a youth for being poor. As long as we study hard and cultivate, we too can be just as spirited one day."
"But... according to those rumors, isn't the Dean regretting it now? Wouldn't that mean he's slapping his own face?"
"You're the one who said that."
The above conversation took place among the students of the National Academy.
Raising one's cultivation level brings many benefits, but also many unexpected troubles. For instance, your five senses become much sharper. Even the gossip of market women covering their mouths, the teasing whispers of neighborhood men, or the quiet discussions of your own students—all of it clearly reaches your ears.
Chen Changsheng sat in the carriage, watching the snowflakes drift past the window. He looked very calm, but his slightly clenched hands revealed that he was actually quite embarrassed at the moment.
Tang Thirty-Six had sent someone to return the dancer. Now he sat across from Chen Changsheng, watching his expression with a cold sneer on his face.
Chen Changsheng seemed focused on the snow, but he was actually very aware of the reactions around him. Ever since that rumor had spread, he had become somewhat sensitive.
"What are you laughing at?"
"At how stupid you are."
The carriage fell silent again—an awkward silence. Tang Thirty-Six looked at him with utter disdain and said, "Back at the Plum Garden Inn, I said that you and Xu Yourong were both people who left others speechless. Now it seems you're also textbook examples of self-destruction."
Every time this topic came up, a casual remark from Tang Thirty-Six was enough to leave Chen Changsheng speechless.
Having nothing to say on the matter, he changed the subject and asked seriously, "I once asked Luoluo to help me look into that Xiuling girl from the Garden of Zhou. Now that I know it was a misunderstanding, I want to write to her and explain, but I feel it might not be appropriate. What do you think?"
Tang Thirty-Six looked at him with contempt. "What do I think? If you don't see how inappropriate that is, then you really are a pig."
"Then what should I do?"
"I'll write a letter to Lady Luoluo, and then you can mention it in the letter."
Tang Thirty-Six offered his suggestion.
Chen Changsheng thought about the whispers he had heard outside the mansion earlier and still felt frustrated. "Why doesn't she agree to let me go to the General's Mansion to propose?"
"Propose?" Tang Thirty-Six asked him. "And then what?"
Chen Changsheng said matter-of-factly, "I go to propose, she agrees, and then these rumors will end, won't they?"
Tang Thirty-Six asked, "What makes you think she'll agree to marry you?"
Chen Changsheng was stunned. He thought, isn't it obvious?
"If you go to the Eastern General's Mansion to propose, will Xu Shiji agree? Or are you counting on Xu Yourong to insist on it herself?" Tang Thirty-Six looked at him angrily. "Back then, you were the one crying and begging to break off the engagement. Now you want her to cry and beg to marry you? Have you considered how humiliating that would be for her?"
Chen Changsheng had never thought about this before. Now that he did, he realized it made a lot of sense.
"Then... what should I do?"
"Endure it. Bear it. Let the gossip and mockery fall on you like snowflakes, until she feels sorry for you and relents."
...
...
Because of the affairs brought by the unification of north and south, and the rumors swirling around the capital, it became increasingly difficult for Chen Changsheng to see Xu Yourong.
Just as he was watching the snowflakes fill the sky, somewhat dazedly wondering when this would end, he received a letter with no signature.
It wasn't from Su Li. It was from Xu Yourong. Standing under the newly built wall by the Snow Lake, after reading the letter, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a genuine smile. Then he went to the library, and under the slightly curious gazes of the students, he quickly wrote a letter.
This letter wasn't a reply. It was a letter to His Holiness the Pope.
In it, he said that to prepare for next year's Cauldron-Brewing Conference, he wanted to stabilize his cultivation realm and lay a solid foundation for Gathering Stars. He wished to enter the Mausoleum of Books again to observe the steles and comprehend the Dao.
That very night, he received a reply from His Holiness. In the letter, the Pope expressed admiration and relief for his diligence, blessed his return to the Mausoleum of Books, and added at the end that if he wished to enter the Mausoleum in the future, he only needed to register at the Li Palace—no need to write to him personally.
Reading these words, Chen Changsheng truly felt a certain change.
The Mausoleum of Books was not a place one could enter casually. Countless cultivators across the continent fought to gain entry—either by accumulating military merit in the north against the demons, or by striving for the top three in the Grand Examination. Yet only a few ever succeeded.
But for him now, the Mausoleum of Books was a place he could enter whenever he wished.
He was no longer that young Daoist from Xining Town.
He was the Dean of the National Academy, the Pope's junior nephew, the future Pope.
Though still young in age, he was already a great figure.
...
...
The heavy stone door slowly opened, and the ground trembled slightly.
Looking at the mausoleum before him, still lush and green in the depths of winter, Chen Changsheng naturally recalled the awe he had felt when he first arrived here a year ago.
The priests and cavalry stationed at the Mausoleum of Books saw the youth standing before several red-robed cardinals and guessed his identity. Their feelings were somewhat mixed.
Chen Changsheng entered the Mausoleum of Books. This time, he was neither a visitor nor a stele observer. He was more like an inspector.
This feeling became incredibly real because of the respectful demeanor of the red-robed cardinals beside him.
He declined the lodging arranged by the Li Palace and went directly to the thatched cottage left by Xun Mei.
The cottage had been uninhabited for a long time. Dust had gathered on the edges of the pot, the cured meat hanging from the beam was still unfinished, but the fence around the yard was much sturdier than when he had lived there. He didn't know if Tang Thirty-Six or Guan Feibai had repaired it.
Thinking back to the days when he had cooked, watched the sunrise, and observed the steles here, a sense of nostalgia welled up in his heart. He saw Tang Thirty-Six and Zheshe every day at the National Academy, but he hadn't seen Gou Hanshi and the others for a year. He wondered how they were doing at Mount Li.
A voice sounded outside the fence. Perhaps because the wintersweet in the grove was in full bloom, it carried a crisp, fragrant scent.
"Is this Senior Xun Mei's dwelling?"
Chen Changsheng snapped out of his memories and turned to see Xu Yourong standing outside the fence.
Beyond the fence, in the grove, the plum blossoms were in full bloom. She stood there, bathed in the morning light, as beautiful as a flower.
Chen Changsheng could now enter the Mausoleum of Books freely. As the Holy Maiden, she could too.
He said, "Yes, we lived here for a long time back then."
Xu Yourong didn't step inside the fence. Looking at the dilapidated cottage in the morning light, she said calmly, "Sometimes I think about it and wonder—back then, you and the senior brothers of the Mount Li Sword Sect were at odds, yet you had to live under the same roof. Didn't you fight every night?"
Chen Changsheng said, "Gou Hanshi is a true gentleman."
Xu Yourong said, "But my senior brother doesn't have such a good temper."
Chen Changsheng thought of the first night, when Tang Thirty-Six and Guan Feibai had nearly come to blows over a clean blanket, and he laughed.
"The Grand Examination doesn't start until the day after tomorrow. The Mausoleum of Books is still very quiet now."
He looked at Xu Yourong and said, "This is a really good idea."
The rumors in the capital were spreading like wildfire. Though they mostly mocked Chen Changsheng, they were also a nuisance for Xu Yourong.
It was hard for them to meet, and even harder to talk quietly. Her letter inviting him to the Mausoleum of Books was indeed a brilliant idea.
Of course, using the Mausoleum of Books—a place that cultivators across the continent struggled to enter—as a dating spot was a bit extravagant.
Only she and he could pull it off.
Xu Yourong saw that he understood her intention and had said it so directly. A hint of shyness arose, but no annoyance.
Because when Chen Changsheng said these things, his eyes were clear and his expression sincere.
He had passion, but beneath the calm, his eyes were bright without being scorching.
If Qiu Shan Jun was a sun, radiating warmth and light, utterly righteous and grand,
Then Chen Changsheng was a gentle breeze.
Everyone loved the sun.
But she preferred to walk freely amidst the caress of the breeze.
In the deep winter of the capital, the land stretched for miles like silver, yet the Mausoleum of Books remained lush and green.
Walking through the groves among the tombs, the breeze that brushed their faces felt like spring—fresh and utterly pleasant.
Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong followed the mountain path toward the Zhaojing Stele Hut.
A middle-aged man appeared in the middle of the path, blocking their way.
His gaze was deep, his cultivation level clearly very high. He stared at Chen Changsheng, his eyes filled with endless coldness. If one looked closely, they could even see traces of venomous hatred.
...
...
(We'll be setting off for home soon, then driving back to the northeast. The journey might take half a month... I've been frantically stockpiling chapters these past two days, but I'm still a bit uncertain. Updates will slow down. Of course, as you all know, I'm a bit neurotic. If there's a second chapter each day, I'll let you know. If I don't mention it, it'll just be one chapter, same as before. Thank you.)