Chapter 438
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Chapter 438: Ghost Valley
On the crisp morning of January 3rd, Bai Wei changed into fresh clothes and stepped out. Boarding the tram, he arrived at his destination by nine o’clock.
Ahead stood the Ming Country’s embassy in Yingzhou—a unique Ming-style structure that stood out amongst the local architecture. It wasn’t merely distinctive but also resilient, capable of withstanding earthquakes and even a direct attack from a second-grade heroic spirit.
Bai Wei entered the embassy effortlessly after presenting his identification. Curious Yingzhou citizens in line glanced his way with interest.
“May I help you?” a courteous receptionist inquired. “Are you here for a visa, or something else?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Wang Yu.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Something like that.”
“May I have your name?”
“Bai Wei.”
The receptionist’s demeanor shifted upon hearing his name. “Ah, Mr. Bai, Ambassador Wang Yu has been expecting you. Please follow me,” she said with a warm smile.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Bai. A master of your renown from the Ming Country deserves such respect.”
Bai Wei turned to her. “May I ask your name?”
“I’m just a humble staff member,” she said with a laugh. “But I’ve heard the counselor and envoy mention you often, Mr. Bai.”
She led him to an office on the fifth floor, politely stepping back after knocking.
“Come in,” a calm voice called from inside.
Within the Embassy
As Bai Wei entered, his ears caught the melodious strains of a guqin. A young man sat leisurely at the instrument, his elegant posture belying the workday’s hustle. He played a soft tune, humming along before pausing, seemingly dissatisfied. With a focused expression, he began tuning the guqin—a skill requiring both precision and artistry.
Without haste, Bai Wei settled into a chair nearby. A pot of tea and an empty cup awaited him. Pouring himself a drink, he watched the young man work.
After fifteen minutes of meticulous adjustments, the guqin’s sound emerged crisp and resonant, its muddiness gone.
The young man’s fingers bore shallow cuts from the strings. He sighed softly. “When the world is unjust, sound will rebel.”
Bai Wei’s gaze softened with admiration.
The man set the guqin aside and applied a bandage to his wounded fingertips. “Cheap instruments are always disappointing,” he remarked, shaking his head.
Bai Wei suppressed a smile. “Indeed.”
The young man turned, clasping his hands in greeting. “Apologies for keeping you waiting, Mr. Bai. I am Wang Yu, counselor at the Ming Country’s consulate.”
Bai Wei stood and returned the gesture. “No need for formalities. I am but a humble commoner.”
“Even humble martial artists rarely refer to themselves as such. Your modesty is admirable,” Wang Yu replied, a playful glint in his eye.
“And you, Mr. Wang, have attained your position before thirty. Is that not equally impressive?”
Wang Yu chuckled. “Politics offers shortcuts, unlike martial arts, which demand relentless effort. I owe my position to connections, not skill. Otherwise, I’d be stationed in Europe by now.”
“Europe?” Bai Wei raised an eyebrow.
“Indeed. The mountains and waters there are unparalleled. Their culture—concerts, tea parties, noble society—is fascinating. Wouldn’t it be wonderful?”
“Europe’s charms are exaggerated,” Bai Wei countered. “Noble society is nearly extinct, and the tea parties are exclusive. You might find yourself longing for home before long.”
“Have you been?” Wang Yu’s curiosity was piqued.
“Not yet, but I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Then we must travel together someday!” Wang Yu declared.
A Lighthearted Exchange
Their conversation veered into lighter territory. Wang Yu explained his fascination with the guqin, lamenting that his recent purchase—a replica—lacked quality. “It’s an inferior piece,” he admitted with a laugh. “But it passes the time.”
Bai Wei nodded knowingly. “What else do you do to pass the time?”
“Ah, just small hobbies, here and there,” Wang Yu said evasively.
“Such as?”
Wang Yu grinned but changed the subject, gesturing toward Bai Wei. “Your visit—did you predict this meeting?”
Bai Wei smirked. “Perhaps.”
“Martial artists perceive subtle signs,” Wang Yu said thoughtfully. “Whether it’s in nature or human behavior, the clues are always there. It’s a skill I admire.”
“And do you know why I’ve come?” Bai Wei asked.
Wang Yu offered a sly smile. “Brother Bai, I’ll let you reveal it yourself.”
Their discussion grew more animated, touching on philosophy, culture, and the challenges faced by those from Ming Country stationed abroad. Wang Yu revealed his frustrations with his role, admitting that he longed for more purpose. “The title of ‘Ghost Valley Master’ once held great prestige,” he mused. “Now, it feels hollow.”
Bai Wei regarded him solemnly. “The world has changed, but the wisdom of Ghost Valley remains. Those who understand its truths will always find their place.”
Wang Yu sighed. “Perhaps. But for now, I’ll continue tuning this guqin and sipping tea.”
The two young men shared a laugh, their conversation deepening into the realm of unspoken camaraderie.
