Chapter 65

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The weariness gradually faded, and as Lu Liangsheng regained consciousness, he slowly opened his eyes. His surroundings felt soft, cushioned by bedding, and through his blurred vision, he saw Honglian’s silhouette seated by the bed. She lightly tapped his hand, bringing his senses fully back. A gentle warmth in his dantian flowed through his body, filling him with a comfortable, tingling sensation, as well as a newfound solidity in his cultivation.

“Young master, young master?!”

Beside the bed, her soft voice called him, and he felt her cool touch.

Fully awake now, Lu Liangsheng sat up, surprised to find he felt even better than he had before he collapsed.

“Honglian, don’t worry. I’m fine. Just look if you don’t believe me.”

He jumped off the bed and bounced lightly on his feet, spreading his arms. “Don’t you think so?”

The female ghost floated up, half-amused and half-annoyed by his carefree demeanor. She fetched a robe from the wardrobe and helped him put it on, gently securing his belt as she spoke, her voice soft but tinged with a bit of reproach.

“You suddenly collapsed; I thought something had happened to you. You really frightened me.”

She paused briefly before adding: “…And you frightened your Toad Master as well.”

“You female ghost, if you’re so concerned, just be concerned on your own—why drag this old man into it?!”

A grumble came from the desk nearby. The Toad Daoist sat perched by the window, eyes closed, basking in the sunlight. Lu Liangsheng glanced at Honglian, smiling sheepishly and at a loss for words, while looking out at the bright, cheerful sunlight outside.

“How long was I out? Now that I woke up, I feel a little different than usual.”

The Toad Daoist opened one eye slightly. He could sense the faint energy radiating from Lu Liangsheng—it was indeed stronger than before. With a soft snort, he turned around slowly.

“Hmph, that power was supposed to be mine… Two days of hard work, and I got nothing but leftovers… ungrateful disciple.”

In the room, the person and the ghost were unaware of the old toad’s mutterings. Honglian straightened the scholar’s collar, seeing his pleasant expression, with a faint smile on her cheeks.

“Young master, you’ve been asleep for two days. The master of the house came to check on you twice. It was lucky Daoist Sun was here; otherwise, they would have taken you into the city to see a physician.”

It’s been so long?

Lu Liangsheng was still puzzled about why he had collapsed, yet the only thing he felt upon waking was a substantial improvement in his cultivation level.

How strange…

Lu Liangsheng originally wanted to ask his master, but the Toad Daoist seemed uninterested, ignoring him entirely.

“Master, I’ll go greet Elder Zhou.”

Lu Liangsheng cupped his hands respectfully toward the toad on the desk, then gave Honglian, who stood in the shadow of the room, a reassuring look before stepping out.

The side courtyard was small. As he stepped outside, he saw Daoist, still wrapped in some bandages, with one foot propped on a low stool, focused on a game of chess with an old man across from him.

As the scholar stepped out from under the eaves, Sun Yingxian loudly placed a white piece onto the board with a snap.

“Old man, it’s your turn! Don’t even think about cheating—my winning formation is already set, and this move will decide the game!”

Opposite him, Zhou Zhen chuckled as he placed a black piece on the board.

“The outcome is already clear.”

“Oh, come on… how about letting me take that back…” Sun Yingxian circled the board, scratching his head, trying to understand how he had somehow lost.

Seeing the scholar emerge from the room, the old man chuckled and said to the Daoist:

“Playing chess is like observing a person’s character. Daoist Sun, you’re too hasty. If you’d been steady, the result might have been different.”

Then, he stood up and approached Lu Liangsheng.

“Liangsheng, are you feeling any discomfort?”

“Thank you, Elder Zhou, I’m perfectly fine now.”

Lu Liangsheng cupped his hands in thanks, understanding the elder’s usual strictness but recognizing his genuine concern. He invited him to sit together, and as they spoke of the incident of his sudden fainting, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m not sure why I collapsed. But when I woke up, I found my cultivation had advanced significantly.”

The Daoist, who had been studying his chess pieces, turned around and looked at the scholar with wide eyes.

“Foundation Establishment?”

Lu Liangsheng nodded. “I’m not entirely sure, but if I’m not mistaken, I believe I’ve reached that stage.”

The Daoist rushed over, feeling his pulse and observing his aura, before stepping back with wide eyes.

“Good heavens, you just slept for two days and now you’re on par with me.”

An expert sees the essence, while an outsider only sees the spectacle. Zhou Zhen, knowledgeable and well-read, with a broad understanding, sat nearby, watching the lively explanation from the young Daoist, and felt his curiosity piqued.

Unable to resist, the elder asked; “Liangsheng, what is the path of cultivation truly like? And what do spells look like?”

“Elder  Zhou, didn’t I demonstrate it for you the other day?”

Squeak, squeak…

The relentless chirping of cicadas echoed from the ancient pine tree, as beams of sunlight filtered through the branches, casting light on the three figures. For a moment, silence settled around them. Lu Liangsheng, resting his hand on his knee, let out a slight laugh.

“To be honest, I don’t really know what the path of cultivation is truly like. My master never explained much—just guided me along, occasionally offering a pointer or two. Honestly, it feels… it’s a lot like how ordinary scholars bury themselves in books. It might sound funny, but I still think my honored teacher, Shuhua, said it best: ‘This world, after all, is nothing but a few mountain peaks.’ ”

Sun Yingxian’s eyelid twitched, and he turned his head aside.

“There he goes with that scholar talk again.”

Zhou Zhen chuckled and nodded. “Just like something he would say.”

Shuhua had been an old friend of his, and only such a bold statement could come from that fellow’s mouth. But the old man’s curiosity remained unsatisfied, so he pressed on.

“Then what about demons and spirits? In this household, many people—even my wife—have seen the old woman who spits water, but I haven’t caught so much as a glimpse. Now that I think about it, I’m quite curious.”

Having been retired for so long, Zhou Zhen mostly kept to his studies, exchanging letters with old friends from the capital and passing time with books on strange tales and legends.

That day when a fierce wind swept through the mansion, with the scholar and young Daoist fighting off unseen forces in the side courtyard, his interest in cultivation had piqued, leading to these questions.

“Hm…”

Not wanting to refuse any longer, Lu Liangsheng paused, then went inside to find a piece of blank paper. Dipping his brush in ink, he turned to the elder.

“Elder  Zhou, don’t be alarmed by what you see. It’s merely an illusion I’ll be conjuring.”

The old man straightened his posture and took a deep breath. Standing under the eaves, Lu Liangsheng lowered his brush, and in that instant, the cicadas’ cries fell silent, and the tree branches extending over the courtyard walls froze still.

The light gradually dimmed, and Zhou Zhen looked up just in time to see a mass of dark clouds blocking out the sun.

Whoosh…

Whoosh…

The quiet pine branches swayed as a sudden cold wind arose, rustling the old man’s beard and robes. Quickly, he raised his sleeve to shield himself.

“Little Daoist, what’s with this sudden gust?”

Zhou Zhen’s voice called out from behind his sleeve, but there was no reply. Turning his gaze, he realized the young Daoist who had been seated nearby was nowhere to be seen.

The entire courtyard was silent, save for the eerie whistling of the wind, as if he were the only person there.