Chapter 145
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Morning light rose to the heights of the clouds. A young boy stepped off the hillside, kicking a stone away as he went. Glancing toward the distant grass thickets, he lifted his chin with pride and chuckled to himself.
“When one sees injustice on the road, one draws their blade to aid the weak. Such is the duty of those who walk the Jianghu.”
“Aren’t you afraid of bringing trouble upon yourself?”
Lu Liangsheng gestured for him to come closer. He rather liked this boy’s cleverness. Though the lad had indeed helped him, Lu Liangsheng was still worried that Yang Su might seek trouble with him later, given the outcome of their duel.
“What’s there to be afraid of? I only used a bit of croton juice. If that man wants to pick a fight with a pitiful orphan like me, he’ll only make a fool of himself…”
The youth fixed his gaze on the scholar for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, he dropped to his knees, placing both hands on the ground and knocking his forehead soundly against the earth.
“Sir, I humbly beg you—please take me as your disciple!”
The abruptness of it caught Lu Liangsheng completely off guard. Fastening the Veiled Moon Sword back at his waist, he quickly stepped forward to help the boy up, brushing the dust from his trousers.
“I’ve not yet considered taking on a disciple. You’d best go—Yang Su will be back soon. If he sees you, he’ll most likely lose his temper again.”
These words were spoken out of kindness. Whether Yang Su would truly come after the boy or not, giving him a good beating was well within reason. As for accepting a disciple, Lu Liangsheng himself was still just a disciple. How could he even begin to consider such a thing?
Hearing this, the youth grew worried at the thought of being struck and began to head back toward the inn, glancing over his shoulder every few steps.
“Sir…”
He couldn’t help but call out softly. From afar, he saw Mr. Lu raise a hand and wave at him. “Go on back first.”
“Alright…”
Li Sui’an lowered his head, dispirited, kicking at stones and dirt clumps as he trudged back toward the inn, step by reluctant step.
In no time at all, he disappeared beyond the slope.
Once the boy was gone, Lu Liangsheng retracted his gaze and walked over to pick up the magic sword Yang Su had left lying on the ground. Turning it over in his hand, he examined it. According to the descriptions in the [Treatise on Smelting and Forging] from the Qi Mountain Immortal Abode, the sword was made of excellent material. Unfortunately, it had only been refined using common sacrificial items. In the future, it would likely prove exceedingly difficult to bring forth a true spiritual embryo from it.
“Mmm… Once I recover the things stolen from Master, I should return to Southern Chen to meet my mentor. Then I’ll head back to Lu Family Village and study this forging method in depth. I’ll reforge those seven spiritual swords properly.”
Cough…
A dry cough came from behind, pulling Lu Liangsheng out of his thoughts. Yang Su was approaching, having tidied his robes and re-tied his topknot. His gaze lifted briefly to the spiritual sword in the scholar’s hands.
Lu Liangsheng smiled and returned the sword to him.
“Daoist friend, is your stomach feeling better?”
“Much better. Until one reaches the stage of fasting from grain, one must still eat the five staples—naturally, there are times when the stomach rebels.” Yang Su wiped the edge of the sword clean, then slid it back into the scabbard strapped to his back. With a gesture of his hand, he made a courteous invitation.
“Daoist Lu, after you.”
“Please.”
Lu Liangsheng smiled in return and echoed the gesture. This time, instead of leaping through the air, the two descended the hillside side by side on foot.
“Daoist Lu, allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Yang Su, clansman of Yang Jian, Grand Chancellor of Northern Zhou!”
“So, you are not of the Fire-Worshipping Sect… I nearly misunderstood.”
As they made their way back to the inn, the two exchanged a few casual words and cleared up the earlier misunderstanding. Upon their return, the shrewish innkeeper’s wife—who had been shouting moments before—immediately changed demeanor, putting on a smile and ushering them inside.
“There you are! The food’s gone cold—I’ll go reheat it right away.”
She dragged Li Sui’an, who seemed inclined to linger nearby, off to the kitchen. Watching the boy’s retreating back, Lu Liangsheng chose to speak plainly about the earlier episode with Yang Su’s stomach, offering his apology on the boy’s behalf.
“No need. The child is clever—just a pity he ended up in a place like this. In any case, I, Yang Su, am not so petty as to hold a grudge over such a thing.”
As a clansman of the Grand Chancellor, not only in Northern Zhou but even within the capital of Chang’an, Yang Su held great power and status. If he were to truly take offense over such a trivial matter, it would reflect poorly on him. Before Lu Liangsheng, such pettiness would be beneath him.
“Then I thank you on behalf of that young fellow.”
Lu Liangsheng’s respectful and measured words left a favorable impression on Yang Su, who returned the gesture with a cupped-fist salute. “You are too courteous, Daoist Lu. That invitation to spar earlier—it was simply that I saw the bearing of a true expert from Chang’an and could not resist testing myself.”
Before long, the innkeeper’s wife brought out the reheated dishes. Two tables were pushed together into one, and the two men sat down across from each other. After a few polite exchanges, Yang Su spoke more directly of his purpose.
“Daoist Lu, you seem to be enjoying a life of leisure, wandering through mountains and streams. But I wonder—do you have a place you call home?”
The phrase “place of return” carried layered meaning, and Lu Liangsheng understood it well. He took a bite of food, then lifted his cup in a toast.
“What I’m about to say may sound somewhat sentimental, but at present, I harbor no ambitions. I only wish to live as a drifting cloud or a wild crane. When I’ve grown weary of wandering, I’ll build a thatched hut on Mount Qixia, tend to flowers and herbs, and offer aid to the villagers below.”
Their cups met with a light clink, and Yang Su lifted his drink and downed it in one gulp.
“Daoist Lu, what you just said—one could call it lacking in ambition. As for your situation, I’ve heard bits and pieces. Was it not merely a muddle-headed ruler? The realm has two emperors… but hidden among the people, there are still those who bear the bearing of a true enlightened sovereign. You, Daoist Lu—versed in the classics, refined in Daoist arts—to let yourself be buried in obscurity would be an utter shame.”
There it is.
The moment Lu Liangsheng heard the words Grand Chancellor, and then enlightened sovereign in hiding, how could he not understand why the other had come chasing after him?
The scholar set down his wine cup. After a brief pause, he still chose to decline.
“My home lies in Southern Chen. My kin and friends are there as well—some even serve in the court. If the day comes when swords are drawn between our states, the entanglements will be too complex to speak of. Your regard honors me, Daoist Yang—but I dare not accept it.”
“Narrow-minded!”
Yang Su slapped his palm loudly against the table, drawing the attention of the aunt and nephew peeking out from the kitchen doorframe.
“Sui’an, you think they’re going to fight?” “Even if they do, I’m sure Mister Lu will win.”
“Why’s that?”
“Hmph—he’s good-looking! Isn’t that always how the chivalric tales go?”
Back in the hall, Yang Su’s tone eased. Realizing he’d lost his composure, he offered a cupped-fist salute toward Lu Liangsheng. He had pursued him for two days, eating wind and sleeping under the stars. Aside from the days of his youth in training, when had he ever suffered like this?
“Think nothing of it. Daoist Yang was simply swept up in the moment.”
Lu Liangsheng had always been of a temper well-honed by cultivation, seldom given to anger. He picked up the wine flask, poured a cup for Yang Su, then filled his own.
Setting the flask aside, he raised his cup.
“There are so many cultivators in this world. My presence makes no difference—one more or one less. If your elder cousin truly seeks worthy aid, why fix his eyes on me alone?”
“Alas…”
Yang Su clinked his cup against Lu Liangsheng’s but did not drink. Instead, he sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile.
“Daoist Lu is right. But most cultivators today shut themselves behind their mountain gates, seldom venturing forth. And to find one like you—a cultivator who still holds the people, the nation, and the world in his heart—such men are rarer still. I could count them on one hand, perhaps even fewer.”
…This Lu Liangsheng neither yields to pressure nor responds to persuasion. Even my glib tongue can’t sway him.
Perhaps only my elder cousin appearing in person could do it… But judging from his manner, he’s unlikely to return with me to Chang’an.
What to do…
…Ah—got it.
The hall fell silent for a moment. Yang Su pondered how to phrase his next words, then poured himself another drink and took a long swig before setting the cup down gently.
“Daoist Lu, are you versed in the art of physiognomy and reading qi?”
“Aren’t you?”
Yang Su gave a somewhat awkward laugh, then offered the pretext he had prepared.
“Somewhat. But most of what I’ve studied lies in swordsmanship, military strategy, and battlefield formations.”
“I see.”
Lu Liangsheng could already guess who Yang Su wanted him to read. But he himself still had important matters to attend to—doubling back to Chang’an now would certainly delay things greatly.
Noting the hesitation on his face, Yang Su quickly followed up: “Then let’s not trouble you, Daoist Lu. How about this—I’ll return first and ask my elder cousin to come meet you. Would that be acceptable?”
“I’m afraid that won’t do. I’ll be departing soon—I have matters that must be handled.”
He took a sip of wine, his gaze briefly sweeping over the aunt and nephew peeking at them from the kitchen. After a moment’s thought, Lu Liangsheng drew out a small scroll from his sleeve and unrolled a map.
“How about this—in half a month’s time, we meet again, ten li outside Shangyong City in Jin Prefecture.”
“Hah! Excellent!”
Yang Su laughed heartily, the sound so bold it made the crockery in the inn tremble. Lu Liangsheng chuckled as well. From there, the two continued eating and drinking, discussing the Dao and techniques of cultivation. By midday, Yang Su, still slightly tipsy, did not forget to settle the bill before mounting his horse and riding off, carrying the message back to Chang’an.
Finally gone…
Lu Liangsheng looked at the scraps left on the table. He couldn’t very well let his master eat this mess. With a slight flush from the wine, he stood and asked the innkeeper’s wife to prepare another serving of red-braised pork and send it to the guest room.
“Sir! Sir! I’ll help you carry the bookshelf upstairs!”
Seeing the sensible, well-timed eagerness in the boy, Lu Liangsheng couldn’t help but smile. He followed him into the room, handing him a tip—but the boy politely refused, closing the door gently behind him as he left.
The Toad Daoist pushed open the small side door and let out a long sigh. “Hmph—nearly suffocated me in there.”
Drawn by the aroma, he crawled over to the round table and rolled up a glistening slice of fatty meat with his tongue, then sprawled out in satisfaction, using one webbed foot to scoop rice from a small bowl into his mouth. Casting a sideways glance at his disciple sprawled out on the bed, he grumbled:
“And he didn’t even think to bring his master a cup of wine.”
From the bookshelf scroll, Honglian drifted over to the washbasin stand. She wrung out a towel and gently wiped the scholar’s face, then removed his shoes and socks and tucked him into the bed.
“Toad Master, Young Master is truly exhausted—please don’t scold him anymore.”
“Hmph. You’re the only one who knows how to dote on people.”
The toad shifted his gaze, puffed out his cheeks with effort, and chewed the fatty meat thoroughly before gulping it down. Seemingly content, he smacked his webbed feet across the floor and made his way to a patch of light cast through the window lattice. Curling himself into a lump, he lay there basking in the sunlight.
Ahhh… this peace in the afternoon… how comfortable… he thought.
As time passed, the golden sunlight slanted westward. The warm hues of sunset slowly gave way to encroaching darkness.
Night deepened. Within the inn, a shadowy figure crept silently down the corridor, gently pushing open a door and tiptoeing toward one of the guest rooms. Glancing around to be sure no one was watching, the figure leaned in and whispered in a hushed voice:
“Sir…”
“Sir!”
Inside, the Toad Daoist opened one eye lazily. Hearing the childish voice, he gave a bored yawn and then settled back against his wooden pillow, resuming his nap.
Lu Liangsheng stirred groggily, a dull ache still lingering in his head. He waved off Honglian, who had risen to open the door, then slipped on his shoes and walked over. Pulling the door open, he asked:
“…It’s the middle of the night—what are you doing here instead of sleeping?”
Outside, Li Sui’an looked up with his small face, showing no sign of fear.
“But, sir, you told me to come.”
“When did I ever say…”
Lu Liangsheng’s words faltered—then he smiled. Indeed, earlier he had said, “You go on back first.” Normally, that would be the first half of a sentence. Since the second half had gone unsaid, the boy naturally took it as an open invitation to follow up.
“Clever little thing. Very well—tell me, what is it you wish to learn?”
Outside the doorway, Li Sui’an’s face flushed red. He clenched his fists tightly, staring at the figure of the gentleman who had already turned and walked back inside with his hands behind his back. Gathering his courage, he forced the words from his throat, his voice trembling with excitement.
“I want to learn swordsmanship from you, sir! The kind that can fly through the sky!”
