Chapter 154 – A Little Praise Never Hurts

Now then, after bidding farewell to that young Daoist, Yue Shiru dared not tarry and set off in haste. On one hand, he was anxious about missing the appointed time; on the other, his injuries were not light. Although the True Person had used an exceptionally pure and profound stream of Innate Qi to restore him, his vital essence was far from fully recovered.

The miasma and baleful qi drifted without form or trace.

If by chance he were to stumble upon such things again, and with his strength insufficient as it was, he feared he would no longer be able to withstand them. So he forced himself to remain alert, relying on the last two Armored Horse Talismans to spur his speed. Each step he took carried him several zhang forward, and following the map, he finally saw from afar the towering and majestic walls of Zhongzhou Prefecture’s city. Only then did he let out a breath of relief.

He exhaled deeply first, and then unfastened the talisman, now nearly depleted of its spiritual power.

Fetching some water to quench his thirst, he ate some dry rations. At a roadside tea stall, he borrowed a ladle of well water to wash his face and tidy his appearance before entering the city. As a disciple of the Daoist sect, he required no pass or token to travel freely. Once inside, he followed his senior sister’s instructions to seek someone out.

What he came upon was a grand and lavish estate.

Knocking upon the gate, he was greeted by a youth clad in fine attire who stepped out with a bright smile and said: “Haha, is that a letter from Sister Cui?”

“Sister has been waiting quite some time already.”

“The Daoist Master must be weary from his long journey. Please, come inside and rest for a while…” The youth was warm and enthusiastic, reaching out to hold the Daoist’s arm, pointing the way forward with one hand, while laughingly instructing the attendants to quickly prepare a hot bath for the Daoist to wash and cleanse himself. He also sent someone to the Cui residence to report that the letter from their banished immortal had arrived.

And to ask—would Cui Shaoqing be coming to take a look?

The youth was exceedingly cordial and considerate in his manner, and Yue Shiru couldn’t help but develop a fondness for him. Led to a guest room to rest, he bathed and washed. Soon after, a tray of light fare was brought to him. Although Yue Shiru had gnawed on dry rations outside the city to avoid losing face for the Daoist sect, these dishes were exquisitely made and surprisingly delicious.

Unable to resist, he ended up eating quite a bit. As the food spread warmth through his stomach, the fatigue from the night before—of ceaseless slaughter and desperate flight—began to fade. Overwhelmed by exhaustion, he drifted into slumber before he even realized it. By the time he awoke, the sun had already dipped westward. The sky outside was dusky, and a pang of dread struck his heart.

Damn it! This is bad!

He sprang up, only to tug at his injuries, gritting his teeth in pain. Hobbling on one foot to the door, it took a while before the pain eased. As he opened the door, a graceful maid outside smiled with lips pressed lightly together and asked: “Ah, has the Daoist awakened? Would you not like to rest a little longer?”

Yue Shiru’s face flushed red. Cupping his fists, he said: “I was on the road yesterday and ended up making a disgrace of myself before you, miss.”

“I’m here today to deliver a letter. Might I trouble you to lead the way?”

The young maid said: “Then please follow me, Daoist.”

They walked at a steady pace and eventually arrived at the main hall. Even before reaching the door, they could hear hearty laughter within. A young man’s voice said: “I just knew my younger sister would send word back eventually. But why didn’t she write directly to the Cui family, and instead sent it to you?”

The finely dressed youth replied with a smile: “The letter wasn’t meant for me.”

“It was for my sister.”

“Ah, the Daoist has arrived—come in, come in. Liuxia, serve tea.” He called out to a maid at his side, who naturally came forward to prepare tea and offer a seat for Yue Shiru. The Daoist entered and, feeling slightly embarrassed, cupped his fists in apology. The young Qin Wang smiled and said, “The Daoist has traveled thousands of miles to be here—how could we not be deeply grateful? The journey must have been grueling. It’s only right that you rest.”

To one side, Cui Shaoqing of the Cui family said: “Where is my sister’s letter?”

“She didn’t return last year. She ought to come home this year at least, should she not?”

Yue Shiru replied: “You are…?”

Cui Shaoqing answered: “I am Cui Yuanzhen’s elder brother.”

Yue Shiru suddenly understood. “So you are Senior Sister Cui’s elder brother…”

The young Qin Wang gave a curious laugh. “But come to think of it, Miss Cui only entered the mountain a little over a year ago. Why do you call her ‘Senior Sister’, Daoist?”

Yue Shiru explained: “Within our Daoist sect, each peak and lineage maintains its own order. Among one’s own branch, we address each other based on the order of entry, but when it comes to disciples of other peaks, as long as the age gap isn’t too large, we refer to one another based on cultivation and Dao attainment.”

“Senior Sister Cui was born with a sword in her embrace, and a strand of sword qi coiled endlessly about her.”

“Even in her childhood, one of our sect’s elders passed through the Cui household and imparted to her a method for nurturing the sword and cultivating qi. She cultivated it for ten years, achieving the complete Three Talents cycle. After entering the mountain, she obtained the purest stream of Innate Qi within a year, fused it with her sword, and transformed it into sword qi. If we were not both fellow disciples of the Daoist sect, I would have to call her ‘Elder’ rather than ‘Senior Sister’.”

These words made the corners of Cui Shaoqing’s lips curl upward slightly—clearly he was quite proud.

Yue Shiru then said, “However, Senior Sister Cui will not be returning home this year.”

Cui Shaoqing’s expression froze. “She said she would be entering seclusion last year. Now again this year? Just what sort of reasoning is that?”

Yue Shiru cupped his fists and said solemnly: “Senior Sister inspected the ancient records from Jinzhou, which detail the sword-drawing of our ancestral founder.”

The young master of the Cui family stiffened visibly.

The Daoist slightly raised his eyes and offered a respectful salute. “Senior Sister said: ‘When the balance of all things in the world is broken, they cry out in protest.’”

“She looked into the past and found injustice within her heart. First, the common people suffer in chaos. Second, the Five Clans and Seven Sects, when faced with crisis, remained silent—no different from consorting with corruption. Her heart was stirred, her sword could find no peace, and so she chose not to return home.”

“She has already written to inform her masters and elders. Sword in hand, she descended the mountain alone, entering tribulation of her own accord—she has gone to Jinzhou.”

“To Jinzhou?!!”

Cui Shaoqing’s face changed drastically. He slammed the armrest and shouted in fury: “Nonsense!”

“I’ll drag her back myself!”

The Daoist raised his eyes and met the gaze of Cui Shaoqing, who carried himself with high nobility and radiated the dense aura of worldly authority. Calm and composed, he answered with neither humility nor arrogance:

“Senior Sister Cui is a banished immortal—her sword qi is pure and boundless.”

“Her heart is just as unsullied.”

“With your means, even withdrawn from the human dynasties, you may not be able to withstand a single strike from her sword.”

“If you intend to employ secular power against her, then know this—Senior Sister has already passed the trial. She now holds the title of Young Master of one of the Daoist Sect’s Eighteen Peaks. One day, if she draws her sword in pure yang, she may well become the Sect Master of our Daoist lineage.”

“Are you prepared to provoke a conflict between the imperial court and the Daoist sect?”

Cui Shaoqing opened his mouth, then again, and fell silent. He thought of his sister—the one with a birthmark of vermilion between her brows, cold as frost and proud by nature. At last, he could only give a bitter smile, knowing well that Yue Shiru spoke the truth. If he were to try to stop her by force, he would likely be sent fleeing in disgrace by her blade.

As the heir of the Cui family, he had the right to know the true matters of Jinzhou.

And he could already sense that this matter was vast in scope, with deep and far-reaching consequences.

Not something that could be moved lightly—for any such movement would surely bring about a thunderous calamity.

Cui Shaoqing sighed and said: “When she grows older, she’ll understand. All this is for the greater good.”

Yue Shiru said nothing more. He merely produced the letter and handed it to the young Qin Wang. The earlier dispute had already left the atmosphere a bit unpleasant. The young prince still tried to persuade the Daoist to stay a while longer, but the Daoist declined, saying that delivering the letter had merely been a task done in passing while descending the mountain—his real duties within the sect still remained, and he could not linger.

As for lodging, arrangements had already been made.

No need to trouble yourselves.

The Daoist took his leave. Cui Shaoqing too departed with unease in his heart, sighing as he walked away. After sending them off, the young Qin Wang returned inside. He went to see his elder sister, who had been feigning illness and avoiding guests. Today, however, her expression showed a rare trace of surprise, prompting him to ask with a grin: “So, what did that letter from Sister Cui say, Elder Sister?”

Li Qiongyu replied calmly, “Just some ordinary things.”

“She spoke of her experiences in the Daoist sect. There was, however, a poem—it was rather well written.”

She handed him the second page of the letter.

The young Qin Wang unfolded it and read. The note said:

“When the Daoist Ancestor of our sect entered the Death Seclusion, he once saw, in a dream, an elder debating the Dao with a youth. The youth composed a poem, and as a result, the couplet at the sect’s mountain gate was changed. Knowing your fondness for the literary arts of the human world, I sought the original words from the patriarch and have copied the youth’s handwriting below.”

Startled, he read on with curiosity. Upon seeing the lines, he unconsciously recited aloud:

“In the White Jade Capital of Heaven, twelve towers and five cities stand tall.”

“An immortal strokes my head. Tying my hair to grant me immortality…”

He fell silent for a long while, hand caressing the letter, then let out a long and wistful sigh. “What magnificence. What ethereal grace.”

“First, there was that Master Wuhuo you spoke of. Then I met my teacher—a rare marvel of the mortal world.”

“And now this—such mysterious wonders of the Daoist path.”

“If I had never left the capital, how could I have known the world was so vast? How could I have imagined there were so many heroes and talents across the land, far more than within the capital alone?”

This thought rose from him instinctively, an involuntary sigh from the heart. Then suddenly he remembered—his elder sister had always been cold and aloof in manner, her demeanor ever composed. Yet toward that figure known as Master Wuhuo, she held a rare and high regard. If he so much as uttered a word of criticism about the Master, no, even if he merely suggested that someone else in the world might be able to stand alongside him in brilliance, his sister’s brows would faintly crease… and his coursework would increase by threefold afterward.

Wait—surely today won’t count toward that again?

Just as he was inwardly lamenting, he looked up—and saw that his sister was not angry at all. She simply gave a quiet nod.

Li Qiongyu glanced down at the letter again, at the page that had copied the handwriting of that dream-born young Daoist—the ethereal, solitary script, each character like a stroke of white jade. Her slender fingers lightly brushed across the parchment and she murmured: “There have always been ‘many’ brilliant minds beneath the heavens.”

With that, she carefully tucked the poem away into her sleeve. Then, with fingers that held a silver hairpin, she gently stirred the charcoal in the incense burner. Her voice was calm and indifferent as she said:

“So—”

“You may praise them more.”

“It’s no matter.”

The young Qin Wang was baffled. “Huh?”

The young lady’s fingers fell to rest lightly upon the letter, her gaze lowered as she said plainly:

“Praise.”

“Huh? Ah—ah, oh! Understood, understood!”

“I’ll praise! I’m praising right now…”

Meanwhile, Yue Shiru made his way slowly through the vast red-dust world of Zhongzhou. He had been taken to the mountains for rigorous cultivation from a young age and had rarely wandered through such bustling places. At this moment, everything felt dazzling, like the chaos of countless blooming flowers threatening to bewilder the eye. Only just before the evening bell sounded did he, after several rounds of inquiries, finally locate the place his teacher had told him to find.

Looking up, what he saw before him was a Daoist temple.

Though not large, it had an air of antiquity and elegance about it, steeped in rustic charm. The plaque above bore three characters: [Lian Yang Temple]

Yue Shiru admired it for a moment, then withdrew his gaze and knocked on the temple door. A short while later, the wooden door creaked open just slightly. A young novice Daoist poked his head out, a huge three-yellow chicken nestled in his arms. With wide, curious eyes, he looked Yue Shiru up and down and asked: “You are…?”

Yue Shiru gave a slight bow with cupped fists and replied: “Yue Shiru, disciple of the Daoist sect. I’ve come by my master’s command, seeking temporary lodging in this esteemed place.”

Now then, let us speak of the Crown Prince, who hastily departed and made his way to the capital. Zhongzhou was not far from the imperial city to begin with, being tasked with its defense as an outlying stronghold. The Fourth Prince, surprisingly, did not pursue him along the way—but the Seventh Prince, with burning zeal, did give chase. He showed no regard for the endurance of his spirit beast. The Crown Prince had been truly frightened out of his wits. Without hesitation, he summoned the clouds beneath his feet, ascending into the sky and drawing along his cloud chariot, managing to forcibly travel from the Zhongzhou Prefectural City to the imperial city within a single day.

“Hah! Eldest Brother is far too cowardly.”

So sneered the Seventh Prince. Though he had also ridden hard along the way, he still made time to seek out the sons of meritorious military families residing within the capital.

They arranged to gather the next day again for merriment.

At dawn the following morning, the Seventh Prince stretched lazily, washed, and reclined idly in the garden of his manor. His muscular upper body and arms lay bare, while beautiful maidens stood at his sides, massaging his limbs and relaxing his physique. Both were exceedingly lovely. Just then, a servant came to report that the sons of the Marquis of Poyuan, the Duke Zhenguo, and other martial clans had already gathered at the finest pleasure boat in the capital. They had invited the flower courtesans from all eighteen of the city’s most renowned brothels to accompany them, and now awaited the arrival of the Seventh Prince.

“These brothers have spared no expense.”

“There are eighteen courtesans in attendance today, Your Highness. Let’s hope such a sight doesn’t scare you away.”

The young man who delivered the message spoke with a sly, suggestive smile.

The Seventh Prince burst into hearty laughter:

“Hahaha! Fine brothers indeed!”

“Let’s go, let’s go!”

“Today, I’ll show them what it means to be a true man in his prime! Eighteen of them? Hah! Even if you doubled that number, this prince would remain unflinching! Go and tell them for me—have those brats stay put and wait honestly where they are!” With that, the Seventh Prince gave the young man a playful kick and laughed as he cursed him away.

Only then did he rise slowly and languidly, allowing the two beauties at his side to dress him. Of course, their hands could not help but wander, and he did not refrain either.

The maidens let out coquettish protests, though such details need not be dwelt upon.

Afterward, he dismissed them both and sat lazily at the main table, popping grapes into his mouth as he said: “Already there’s news? Speak—what exactly have you found?”

Even before departing the Central Province, he had already issued orders in his capacity as the [Warfare School’s Chief Commander] to investigate the matter of Jinzhou. [TL_Note: School here is used as one of the one hundred schools of thought.]

Though the School of Warfare excelled in such matters, it had been many years since the incident, and the trail was faint.

However, the campaign in Jinzhou back then had involved hundreds of thousands of Xuan Armor Cavalry. In the past, the Seventh Prince had shown no interest, so no one had dared to bring it up. But now that the head of the Warfare School himself had set the investigation in motion, with so many former participants still alive—though some dared not speak—with the secret methods of the Warfare School’s agents, it was not difficult to piece together the rough truth from countless hidden threads and fragments.

Yet at this moment, the military spy of the School of Warfare—one who had faced blades and steel without so much as a frown—remained silent for a long while.

At last, he merely took out a dossier and, in a hoarse voice, said, “Your Highness, best you see for yourself…”

“Hah! Haven’t you always been the one to tell me these things in the past?”

The Seventh Prince laughed boisterously. “What now? A stalwart man of the Warfare School turning bashful all of a sudden—like some songstress on stage? Hand it over!” He reached out and snatched the document from the agent’s grasp, but in that very instant, he caught a subtle flicker—the agent had, almost by instinct, tried to pull the dossier back.

The Seventh Prince chuckled and scolded, “What? Am I not allowed to see this?”

“Don’t go making me late for my grand battle with those eighteen courtesans.”

“It’s just a few pages—won’t take a moment to finish.”

“I’ll glance through this Jinzhou affair now, and when I head to Drunken Heaven Pavilion later to drink with that rowdy bunch, I’ll at least have a tale to share.”

He opened the dossier with a grin, raising his eyes to read.