Chapter 15
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- The Imperial Preceptor of Great Sui Dynasty
- Chapter 15 - Compassion for the Deep and Secluded Flowers, Whose Home Is the Melody That Never Returns?
[TL_Note: This is from a famous poem:
Huanxisha: Compassion for the Deep and Secluded Flowers
Compassion for the deep and secluded flowers, Whose home is the melody that never returns? The fragrance enters the curtain, the water reflects the cold mountains.
Lonely in the deep boudoir, the fragrant blossoms urge the days, The two swallows still fly, how many times the spring chill.]
The clear moon hung high in the sky.
As the night wind blew through the long street, the mist rising from the ground swirled around. By the hour of the pig, there were few pedestrians on the street. The night vendors were hurriedly packing up their stalls and leaving. The faint mist enveloped the area, and a lantern with a flickering flame approached.
[TL_Note: Hour of the pig = around 9 p.m.]
Dong, Dong, Dong…
“Be careful with candles, keep doors and windows tightly shut to prevent theft. Next door, Wang Sheng…”
Dong, Dong—
In the thin mist, the night watchman’s figure slowly came from the end of the street. The lantern he held in his hand swayed gently, and an occasional distant dog barked. The night watchman paused, lifted his lantern, and peered down the street.
The light flickered inside the paper lantern, revealing eight or nine people lying side by side. The sight startled him, and he shivered in place. Among the people lying down, a slightly shorter figure lifted its face, glanced at him, and then buried its head back down.
There was a faint rustling sound of writing and the sound of snoring.
The night watchman let out a sigh of relief and continued walking, turning back to look.
“Goodness… You could scare someone to death. Out on the street at this hour, be careful that the evil spirits from Fule District might take you away.”
His grumbling faded as he disappeared into the mist.
Dong, Dong… The ethereal sound of the clapper echoed faintly in the distance. Lu Liangsheng straightened up, rubbed his somewhat dry eyes, and picked up the petition paper he had spread out on the ground, blowing on the yet-to-dry ink.
With the aid of the moonlight and his excellent vision, he finally managed to clearly write down the village’s dispute with the northern village, following the format of the sample article. Fortunately, he had previously read <Southern Waters Collection of Lost Arts> and <Emerald Heart Dream Nourishment>, which, aside from the technical aspects of spell techniques, mostly contained short stories about the origins of spells.
By mimicking the descriptions from these texts, he was able to clarify the matter to the best of his ability. This was Lu Liangsheng’s utmost effort.
After folding up the petition paper and tucking it into his clothes, Lu Liangsheng suddenly remembered the Toad Daoist in the bundle. Amidst the snoring of Lu Pan and the others, he gently opened the bag.
“Master…” He called out in a low voice, glancing at the eight men asleep nearby.
After a while, seeing that the toad had not reacted, Lu Liangsheng assumed it was still asleep. He closed the bag, let out a soft sigh, and reached into the bundle to pull something out.
Lu Liangsheng moved to the edge of the street and, by the light of the moon, spread out his palm to reveal a sharp, hard object over an inch in length. It was dark green with a hint of black, and running his fingertips over it, he could feel tiny, densely packed granules. The other end was wider, with a distinct break.
“When did I get this…”
“It’s from the head of that little demon from last night, severed by the inscription of the mountain god. If I were in my complete state, I wouldn’t allow such a demon to act recklessly…ribbit.”
Looking back, Lu Liangsheng saw the Toad Daoist emerging from the bundle, standing with forelimbs behind its back and looking at the strange object in the boy’s hand.
He then turned his gaze toward the cold moon in the sky.
“This item from the little demon is rather insignificant, but you might find it useful.”
“How should I use this demon’s remains?”
The toad raised a webbed hand and pointed to the brush Lu Liangsheng had placed on the ground. “Use it as a brush handle, it can be put to some use.”
The young man sat by the street, contemplating the piece of the centipede’s head he held, deep in thought.
“Master, is this what you meant by the strange fate you mentioned that day?”
“See through it but don’t speak of it…ribbit!” The toad put his webbed hand on his back again, shaking his head, but cursed in its heart: If this old man had known this strange fate would lead to such a mess, I wouldn’t have summoned that little centipede demon, making such a fool of myself.
The Purple Star Daoist made a toad face.
“Let’s put those words aside.”
He changed the subject: “When you reach the Foundation Establishment realm, I will teach you artifact forging…”
“…Raindrops fall on the eaves, chillingly cold… The wind is piercingly sharp… This servant longingly gazes at my Father, crying my heart out,… All kindness and affection is now severed…”
The voice gradually grew quieter. Lu Liangsheng, who was about to speak, frowned slightly and looked toward the end of the long street. “I think I heard someone singing opera just now…”
The mist filled the air, the faint opera melodies mixed with the clang of gongs, echoing through the empty street. The lights in the houses that were still on were quickly extinguished.
“…A precious hairpin and jade beads adorned on the head… Dressed in a colorful flower robe, releasing that voice to attract a thousand guests with a single song… Who would have known… Who would have known, ah, ah…”
The mournful “ah” dragged on, sending shivers down Lu Liangsheng’s spine.
“Master… At this hour, with such sorrowful singing, could it be that some woman has some pain in her heart she can’t express?”
Nearby, the Toad Daoist merely grunted, seemingly uninterested in the source of the opera. Just as he was about to return to the previous topic, the mournful opera voice suddenly changed.
“…Who would have known that Chen Lang a proper scholar… A half-inch red lily buries my body, maggots in the mud drain my blood, and who knows the inscription on the tombstone above the mud…”
The tone turned icy, and a cold wind swept by.
Lu Liangsheng stood up, and the chill seemed to disappear. However, the eight sturdy men asleep nearby instinctively hugged their arms and rubbed them, as if feeling a cold draft.
The Purple Star Daoist glanced at them and looked in a certain direction.
“Hmph… After traversing this world for so many years, what demons and ghosts haven’t I seen? Such insignificant spirits aren’t worthy of my…”
At this point, Lu Pan’s voice rang out: “Liangsheng, why are you still awake?”
Before the toad could finish speaking, Lu Liangsheng suddenly pressed him down, its limbs splayed out and pinned to the ground.
The young man turned around and smiled: “Just finishing up, I’m going to sleep now.”
“Then get some rest quickly. If you’re cold, come closer to the center.” Lu Pan said as he wrapped himself more tightly in his short coat, curled up his arms, turned over, and went back to sleep.
Lu Liangsheng let go of his hand, and the toad sprang up, its eyes widening angrily.
“You press your Teacher down again, just…”
At that moment, there was a noise from under the wall, someone had sat up. Lu Liangsheng quickly reached out to press him down again, and the toad’s voice, as he was about to say the last word “try”, was abruptly cut off as he was forcefully pinned to the ground.
The Purple Star Daoist’s face was pressed against the ground, his features distorted.
“Evil disciple…”
The groggy Lu Qing got up, stumbled to the edge of the street, undid his pants, and after hearing a splash of water, shivered a couple of times and shook his body before lying back down.
The long street quieted down, and the previously eerie opera singing vanished. In the distance, the sounds of dogs barking and the night watchman’s gongs could be heard.
The young man lifted his hand, and the toad beneath it remained motionless. Lu Liangsheng poked him with his hand, and the Purple Star Daoist, still lying face down, spoke up.
“Don’t bother me!”
He climbed up, fuming, and walked angrily towards the bundle.
“I never finished my words. Either I was interrupted by that or by this, and now you, my unworthy disciple, press me down and rub me on the ground. I’m done with this!”
After stepping into the package and covering the opening of the bag, he said: “Don’t bother me, I’m going to sleep.”
Lu Liangsheng, unsure how he offended his master, chose not to disturb him. He sat beside the package, leaned against the wall, and began to ponder over various things, including the eerie opera singing he had heard earlier. Eventually, he fell asleep.
The next morning, the nine travelers were awakened by the patrolling constables, who scolded them. Faced with the authority of the officials, Lu Pan and the others could only nod in repeatedly. They then led Lu Liangsheng to a nearby street to find a well and wash up but found that the well was surrounded by people.
The crowd was whispering to each other, their faces troubled.
“Did you hear it last night?”
“I heard it. It was really creepy… My spouse mentioned it before, but I didn’t believe it. There really was that sound. It was terrifying.”
“…I covered my head and didn’t dare to stick out even a bit.”
“What are they talking about? What happened last night?” Lu Pan and the others, waiting nearby, looked at each other with puzzled expressions.
At that moment, someone ran into the alley, waving at the crowd.
“I just heard the news. There was another death at Landlord Chen’s house. Everyone from the yamen has gone there.”
The discussion among the townspeople erupted into chaos, and they stopped drawing water, gathering together to talk about the incident.
For the nine travelers, however, there were more pressing matters to attend to. Since it didn’t concern them directly, they simply fetched water from the well, quickly washed and rinsed their mouth, and then headed towards the county yamen.
Upon arrival, Lu Pan took the written petition from the young man’s hands. He couldn’t read it himself, but the densely packed characters looked very formal and beautiful. Trusting his nephew, Lu Liangsheng, who was from the same village, he had faith in the document.
They handed the complaint to the gatekeeper, who took a glance at it and nodded: “The writing is good, but it will take some time for this complaint to be reviewed and for you to be summoned to the yamen…”
Just then, the heavy footsteps of someone approaching were heard behind the gatekeeper. The two guards quickly stepped aside, standing tall and straight.
A figure clad in a close-fitting blue robe emerged from the yamen, dragging a cloak behind them. They wore brown leather armor over the robe, with a slender knife with a black shark-skin handle hanging at their waist. They stepped down the stone stairs in black boots with white patterns, paying no attention to Lu Liangsheng and the others standing by. Mounting the horse brought by the guards, they swiftly mounted and rode off. On their back were two imposing long-handled broadswords, their blades glinting coldly in the morning light, as white as snow.
With a tight rein on his horse, the man, accompanied by more than a dozen constables, rode off down the street.
“You just saw it, didn’t you? That’s our county’s Head Constable Zuo, who’s about to be promoted to a position in the prefectural city’s criminal department. He has taken action personally because something major has happened at the Landlord Chen’s family estate. All other matters have to be put aside for now. We’ll handle them later.”
The gatekeeper returned to his post and began waving people away.
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