Nan Gong Jun Qing looked at me and slowly said, “Rong Shu Kuang, I heard your name long ago. One summer night, Lin Shao Ci sat atop my dragon boat, calling out your name to the vast sea. At that time, I wondered what kind of woman Rong Shu Kuang truly was.”
I knew the Rong Shu Kuang he mentioned wasn’t referring to me, yet I couldn’t help but ask, “What am I like?”
“You are a very interesting person.”
“Just interesting?” I was somewhat dissatisfied.
“Rumors say you’re reserved and taciturn, rarely smiling. To call you interesting is already high praise.”
Listening to his tone, I couldn’t tell if he was complimenting or criticizing someone—it was truly bewildering.
I was immediately speechless, and the smile at Yan Shao’s lips suddenly expanded several times.
Nan Gong Jun Qing stopped looking at me, his tone returning to its customary indifference, saying “farewell” before heading downstairs with his long robe fluttering behind him.
Yan Shao also replied coolly: “No need to see you out.”
Suddenly, I realized that Nan Gong Jun Qing and Yan Shao were extremely similar in certain aspects—both arrogantly viewing the world beneath them, with no dust in their eyes.
Four days after Nan Gong Jun Qing’s departure, we entered Jiangsu territory, the hometown of King Xiang of Chu. It was noon, and within an hour, Yan Shao received three carrier pigeon messages in succession, remaining silent with furrowed brows throughout the journey. By dusk, the news was finally confirmed: Emperor Zhu Gao Zhi had passed away!
According to historical records, after Prince Han Zhu Gao Hu received news of his brother’s death, he lacked the courage to attack Beijing. Instead, he secretly deployed troops to ambush Crown Prince Zhu Zhan Ji, who was returning to the capital for the funeral, intending to establish himself as emperor afterward. Unexpectedly, he didn’t encounter Zhu Zhan Ji but instead received news of Zhu Zhan Ji’s ascension to the throne.
Logically, Zhu Zhan Ji was stationed far away in Nanjing, while Prince Han was in Le’an, Shandong, much closer to Beijing. He had ample time and thorough preparations, so why didn’t he intercept Zhu Zhan Ji?
This remains an eternal mystery in history. However, if you’ve read a novel called “Sleeping with Yan Shao,” the answer would be self-evident. Hehe.
But that’s a story for another time.
At this moment, upon receiving the news, Yan Shao ordered Dudu Niao to stop the carriage and walked alone through the sprawling wild grass. His white robe in the dusk sunlight resembled a faint, cool mist—hazy and distant.
Dudu Niao asked me, “What is Master Chu doing?”
I didn’t answer him.
Feeling snubbed, he plopped down on the carriage, pulled out a wine flask, took a large gulp, and smacked his lips appreciatively.
Yan Shao walked for a while before suddenly stopping among a large field of golden rapeseed flowers. He turned around and gestured for me to join him. I walked over, and without a word, he held my hand as we wandered through the fragrant rapeseed blossoms. The crimson clouds on the horizon burned like fire, seven-colored rays illuminating everything, and a brilliant, massive red sun was setting with an irreversible posture.
Suddenly, I again felt the mystery of fate. I had traversed a hundred years through time and space to witness the death of one feudal emperor and the rise of another. I was even a participant in this major historical event—how marvelous!
Yan Shao gazed at the red sun on the horizon and suddenly sighed softly.
I also sighed.
He remained silent, then after a while, sighed again.
I once more imitated his sigh.
He glanced at me sideways, feigning anger: “You should be happy. Why are you sighing?”
I said ingratiatingly: “How could I be happy when you’re not?”
A hint of a smile appeared in his clear eyes, but he said nothing.
I smiled and casually found something to say: “Actually, Zhu Gao Hu isn’t worth your help. Think about it—he’s already getting on in years but still has thieving ambitions, trying to steal from his nephew like his father did. Never mind that he can’t get it, but even if he did, what’s the point when he’s nearly dead? Besides, he’s weak-willed and fickle, hesitant and indecisive when facing situations, not decisive enough…”
He had remained expressionless, but now his eyes suddenly brightened with surprise: “Oh? You know him so well?”
I was momentarily stunned, then became proud, blowing a light breath skyward and laughing: “How would I know him? I just dislike him and spoke off the cuff, haha…”
Seeing him slightly frown, I quickly added: “But I’m not making this up! The history books say when he raised an army in rebellion, the emperor sent someone to persuade him to surrender, and he agreed. But one of his commanders disagreed, saying something like ‘better to die in battle than be captured’… Seeing his subordinate so unyielding, he immediately gave a speech declaring he wouldn’t surrender, but then…”
I deliberately paused here.
He played along, asking: “What happened?”
I smiled and said: “After giving his speech, he secretly slipped out of the city to surrender.”
He stared at me for a while before finally laughing.
Speaking fluently, I continued: “So, I think sending this treasure to Prince Han is really…”
He slightly raised an eyebrow: “Hmm?”
I quickly changed my tune: “Hehe… anyway, it’s all their Zhu family’s property, they can spend it however they want. If they want to use it for civil war, it’s not our business…”
He gave a smile that wasn’t quite a smile.
I continued ingratiatingly: “Besides, even without this treasure, Zhu Gao Hu would find ways to extort money from the common people. Looking at it this way, we’re doing a good deed, serving the country and people like true heroes…”
He finally laughed and scolded: “Chatterbox.”
I then fell silent.
At this moment, the evening breeze blew diagonally, and wisps of cooking smoke rose steadily into the pale blue sky from the distant villages. The vast expanses of heaven and earth appeared increasingly spacious and profound, while the solid ground beneath our feet remained peaceful and serene—it didn’t know that today, an emperor had departed from the world. Or perhaps it did know, but this was truly too commonplace for it. It had lain quietly since the beginning of primordial chaos, experiencing countless millennia. Human emperors had come and gone like fleeting sights, none truly immortal—only the earth was eternal.
Tomorrow I need to go out (if it rains, I’ll postpone), and I won’t be able to write for three to five days, so there won’t be updates. Please forgive me, my beauties.
Also, please vote and recommend more. What I hope most is to return and see long reviews, so I know how much you truly love Yan Shao… Going to sleep now!
The next evening, we arrived in Nanjing and found lodging at a high-class inn near the Confucian Temple. After settling my luggage, I dragged Yan Shao out to visit the teahouse where we had first met. Revisiting old places had a special flavor—the scenery remained the same, but the memories were vivid. I recalled how I had mistaken him for a dissolute playboy back then and couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.
He remained silent throughout the journey, but after sitting down in the teahouse, he also laughed: “You were adorably foolish then.”
While pouring tea, I replied: “Fools have their blessings.”
He laughed: “Money is the only standard for testing true feelings. Haha, you were direct.”
Just as I was about to expound again on my materialistic philosophy, I suddenly remembered Emperor Jianwen’s treasure and changed the subject: “Now that we’re in Nanjing, where do we find that treasure?”
He casually replied: “No rush.”
I was dumbfounded. He wasn’t the least bit anxious, while just thinking about such a fortune hidden somewhere made me incredibly nervous, as if I’d lost a huge sum of money and feared someone else would find it.
“Time waits for no one!”
He smiled, took a sip of clear tea, and finally said: “I’m waiting for Lin Wan Ci. Without her, we can’t find the treasure.”
I was stunned and asked curiously: “How do you know she’ll come?”
He remained silent, with an extremely serene expression between his brows. After a while, he simply said: “Intuition.”
I said nothing more.
All along, I’d been unwilling to admit my sense of inferiority when facing Lin Wan Ci. When I refused to become the master of Yu Chi Manor, fear had been a factor—I cared too much about him to test that bottom line.
Yan Shao once said that Lin Wan Ci’s demands made me uncomfortable. He was only half right. Strictly speaking, it was her as a person that made me uncomfortable. I never knew a person could be so flawless. That night at Yaoguang Water Pavilion, after she finished playing, Yan Shao clapped and recited poetry in admiration… I had never seen Yan Shao like that, nor had I seen him praise anything. He had never praised me, and I had no talents worthy of praise. I only caused him trouble, was too clever for my good, misunderstood intentions, and expressed wrong emotions… Lin Wan Ci’s appearance was a wake-up call. She was prettier than me, smarter than me, and understood Yan Shao better than me… In short, her appearance made me more desperate to retreat from the jianghu with Yan Shao…
Ultimately, I was just a selfish woman. But I couldn’t avoid her.
She was finally coming.
And she came quickly.
When we returned to the inn, she was sitting in the elegant pavilion playing the zither. Dressed in simple, elegant clothes without makeup, her slender, fair fingers plucked the strings, releasing music that flowed like water, pure and exquisite.
I couldn’t help but glance sideways at Yan Shao. His face was calm, but his eyes held a look of appreciation.
After a while, Lin Wan Ci finished her piece and raised her face, as beautiful as the bright moon, speaking in a voice gentle as a spring breeze: “You’ve returned. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.” The last sentence was directed at Yan Shao.
Yan Shao remained silent.
I couldn’t help but ask: “How did you know we were staying here?”
She rose with a smile and candidly replied: “Our manor has many disciples, and since you’re the former master, naturally there’s extra attention.”
I closed my mouth and went straight to my room. After all, she came for Yan Shao, and Yan Shao was waiting for her—it had nothing to do with me.
I stayed in my room for half the day, not seeing Yan Shao come in, and Dudu Niao had disappeared to who knows where. Casually pushing open the window to look outside, I saw the Qinhuai River banks brilliantly lit, painted boats along the waves, with occasional songs and laughter floating over on the wind—truly luxurious and extravagant.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate the night scenery and only found it noisy, feeling inexplicably irritable. Just as I was about to close the window, I suddenly spotted a familiar figure in the crowd… Greatly surprised, I glanced around, then quickly slid down the wall and followed that white figure closely through the crowd. After walking for a while, the person suddenly boarded a painted boat that drifted downstream.
I walked along the Qinhuai River bank for a while, watching the boat drift further away, feeling increasingly anxious. Two boats followed that painted boat, and if I used qinggong (lightness skill), I could catch up, but I couldn’t swim and felt somewhat timid.
After deliberating briefly, I finally decided to try. I immediately leaped up and flew onto one of the boats, using my toes on the bow to leap again. The music inside the boat continued tinkling, completely unaware of my presence. I had only seen such skills on television before and couldn’t help feeling secretly proud. As I thought this, my feet had already landed on the red wooden deck of the painted boat, which continued moving steadily forward, not budging an inch.
“Impressive skills!”
A white-robed youth sat in the cabin, clapping in appreciation. With beautiful features, a rosy face, and long, fair hands clapping lightly, the sound was nonetheless quite loud.
I asked bluntly: “Why are you here?”
“Because of you.”
“Hmm?”
“I was originally ordered by the Crown Prince to bring you to the capital to meet him, but now—” she stood up, her beautiful eyes radiating murderous intent, “now, I’ve changed my mind.”
“Oh, because of Feng Ting Xie?”
She didn’t answer.
I said: “The emperor has passed away. You should know I spoke the truth. The Crown Prince will successfully ascend the throne, and I’ve helped fulfill Feng Ting Xie’s dying wish. Why must you pursue me so relentlessly?”
She stared at me with eyes like knife blades, coldly saying: “You are not Rong Shu Kuang.”
I was stunned upon hearing this, inwardly crying out in dismay: Sure enough, trouble has come as expected! But outwardly I remained composed, asking instead: “What do you mean by that?”
She stared at me intently but didn’t speak.
After we locked eyes for a moment, I suddenly had a flash of insight: “So, the assassins I’ve encountered along the way—you sent them?”
She nodded: “Correct.”
I couldn’t help but smile bitterly: “Miss Feng’s actions are truly unpredictable.” After a pause, I continued, “However, since the Crown Prince wants to see me, if Miss Feng kills me, how will you explain it to him?”
She said coldly: “That’s my concern.”
I sighed helplessly, then asked: “Why do you believe I’m not Rong Shu Kuang?”
She didn’t answer, her gaze seeming to pierce through my appearance to see my soul.
I asked again: “If I’m not Rong Shu Kuang, then who am I? And where is the real Rong Shu Kuang?”
By now, I had made up my mind—even if exposed, I would simply admit it, shed the identity of Rong Shu Kuang, and be rid of many troubles. To my surprise, she said: “I don’t know.”
I was stunned once again.
“I don’t care who you are or why you’re impersonating Rong Shu Kuang. But I absolutely will not bring a person of unknown origins to see the Crown Prince.”
I held my breath, silently waiting for what would come next.
Her face was cold, her tone frigid: “How did you learn about inner palace affairs? How do you even know the details of the emperor’s illness… Do you have an organization? What is its purpose?”
Hearing this, I felt an absurd mixture of wanting to cry and laugh.
“If you won’t speak, the Qinhuai River will be your grave.”
As she spoke, she clapped her hands, and suddenly four men in black appeared on the boat. The surrounding air abruptly filled with a heavy sense of weaponry.
I looked around and realized the boat had somehow drifted to an extremely wide expanse of water. Moonlight reflected on the water, rippling beautifully, yet making one slightly dizzy.
Feng Jing Li laughed lightly and said: “In single combat, I’m certainly no match for you, and these four Brocade Guard brothers might not defeat you either. But I’ve discovered your fatal weakness—fear of water.”
I steadied myself and said: “It seems you’ve meticulously plotted against me…”
“Indeed.”
At this moment, the boat suddenly rocked violently, and I quickly used my internal energy to stabilize myself. Those four silent men in black suddenly attacked together, four streams of cold, glinting weapons swift and fierce. Unarmed, I could only deploy my qinggong to dodge left and right, but the boat’s limited space, combined with the four first-class masters whose movements were agile and whose swords moved unpredictably, plus the increasingly violent rocking of the boat, made me feel the situation was dire even before the confrontation.
As soon as this ominous thought arose, things truly turned dire. With a flash of a sword and a cracking sound, the painted boat suddenly split open, and icy river water instantly seeped into my soft shoes. This made me even more panicked. I waved my palm to force back an oncoming sword, while another person’s soft whip attacked my lower body. My foot slipped, and I nearly fell into the river. Immediately another sword flashed past my face, and I hurriedly threw my head back and bent my waist…
Thus, I successfully fell into the river.
My last bit of consciousness was that the water of the Qinhuai River had a faint sweet fragrance, perhaps congealed from the rouge-tinted tears of the golden powder of six dynasties.
I haven’t updated for several days. I stayed home during the May Day holiday to seriously write a few more chapters… Also, below I want to switch back to third-person narrative. Telling the story in first-person is driving me crazy…
News of Rong Shu Kuang’s death seemed to spread throughout the jianghu overnight. Regarding this matter, friends in the jianghu unanimously believed: she deserved to die, for she dared to betray the Number One Manor in the world. If she hadn’t died, it would have been strange indeed.
Every day in the jianghu, countless rumors circulate—some true, some false, half-true, and half-false—neither to be fully believed nor completely disregarded. People hear things and pass them on, eventually distorting them beyond recognition. If the person concerned unfortunately hears them, those with small temperaments might fume with rage and die vomiting blood, while even those with greater temperaments would find it both laughable and lamentable.
Lin Wan Ci’s expression at this moment was somewhat between laughter and tears.
She sat in the elegant pavilion of Wan Qing Tower, her ears catching all the news from every direction without missing a drop. These rumors certainly portrayed Yu Chi Mountain Manor as supernatural and inviolable. However, if the person sitting across from her were Yan Shao, it would be a different matter entirely. Even someone as typically calm, self-possessed, and resourceful as she couldn’t help feeling somewhat embarrassed and awkward.
“I’ve already ordered the Wind Shadow agents of our manor’s Tian Division to investigate the source of the news with full force. I believe we’ll have results soon,” she said, looking at Yan Shao in a comforting tone.
Yan Shao didn’t speak. His face was very calm, showing no trace of joy, anger, sorrow, or pleasure, his deep eyes becoming even more unfathomable.
Lin Wan Ci continued: “With Shu Kuang’s martial arts skills, there aren’t many in the jianghu who could kill her. Perhaps she’s been delayed by something…”
Yan Shao waved his hand to interrupt her: “Anything is possible.”
“Do these words from Master Chu mean you truly suspect me?” Lin Wan Ci asked uncertainly.
“You did have the intention to kill Shu Kuang,” Yan Shao stated frankly.
Lin Wan Ci was silent for a moment before replying: “True, but that was in the past.”
She paused, gazing at the Qinhuai River below the window, and continued: “Human emotions are unlike ocean waves; they change with time. Before, I disliked her and wanted to kill her, but that was out of desperation. Now there’s naturally no need. That was then, this is now…”
She suddenly stopped speaking.
Yan Shao asked impassively: “How is it now? And how was it then?”
She didn’t answer for quite a while, then sighed: “Back then, she betrayed our manor and should have been dealt with according to manor rules, but we couldn’t afford to offend Master Chu, so we had no recourse…”
Yan Shao showed an impatient expression: “Miss Lin if you truly feel you can’t afford to offend me, you should tell me the truth.”
Lin Wan Ci was slightly startled. She quickly regained her composure and smiled: “I’ve already handed over the treasure map with both hands. Why does the Master still not trust me?”
Hearing this, Yan Shao suddenly smiled and said: “I have two questions for Miss Lin. Please answer truthfully.”
“I wouldn’t dare deceive the Master.”
“First, what’s the truth behind Lin Shao Ci’s public rejection of marriage on Biyu Peak three years ago? Second, what’s the truth behind Shu Kuang’s poisoning in Suzhou back then?”
Lin Wan Ci remained silent for a while. Suddenly she said: “Three years ago, Shao Ci and Feng Jing Li had already been intimate. To take responsibility for Feng Jing Li, he could only reject the marriage. As for the second question… Feng Jing Li going to Suzhou to find Rong Shu Kuang was indeed under my instruction. It was a plan to kill two birds with one stone—eliminate Rong Shu Kuang and drive away Feng Jing Li. Unfortunately…”
She tilted her head back slightly, exhaling a breath like an orchid, and sighed despondently: “Unfortunately, in this world, no one can truly control all the details of a plan.”
Yan Shao frowned slightly: “Why did Miss Lin do this?”
Lin Wan Ci looked at him with a half-smile and said: “If I hadn’t done so, how could Master Chu have married his lovely wife? Master should thank me.”
She finished with a smile, her lips blossoming with the brilliant smile of a March sun.
Yan Shao was momentarily dazed, remaining silent for a while before saying: “Miss Lin is truly exceedingly clever—”
Lin Wan Ci sneered, cutting him off: “Clever? What use is cleverness? Rong Shu Kuang has been foolish and taciturn since childhood, her greatest virtue merely being diligence. Yet all the senior brothers always indulged her, taking her up the mountain to catch rabbits and pick wildflowers… They never played with me. As a child, I always thought it was because of my illness. Only when I grew up did I realize it wasn’t… Hah! They didn’t play with me because their little tricks could never fool me…” Her emotions became slightly agitated, and she paused to take a deep breath.
Yan Shao nodded and said: “Men feel somewhat timid in the face of overly intelligent and quick-witted women.”
A blush rose on Lin Wan Ci’s crescent moon-like face, making her appear even more enchanting and alluring in the sunlight. Her lips carried a hint of a smile: “Those are just mediocre men. Master Chu is a person of lofty and transcendent nature, naturally you wouldn’t…”
She suddenly stopped speaking, her nearly transparent face growing increasingly red like rouge.
Yan Shao looked at her, feeling his heart stir. He coughed lightly and asked: “Your original purpose in marrying off Shu Kuang was for that list, so why did you want to kill her in Suzhou?”
Lin Wan Ci raised her head, with a half-smile: “Master Chu can consider it as my jealousy if you wish.”
Yan Shao appeared slightly embarrassed. After a moment of silence, he smiled and said: “Miss Lin is someone who considers the bigger picture. Even if you truly were jealous of Shu Kuang, I believe you wouldn’t act this way without a compelling reason.”
Lin Wan Ci laughed. “I always thought Master Chu understood women well.”
She paused, directing her gaze to the Qinhuai River outside the window. The river sparkled with golden light under the sun, but her voice inexplicably conveyed a sense of cold loneliness.
“A woman’s emotions are the most difficult to fathom. Sometimes I can’t even control myself—yes, I hate her. This hatred is somewhat unreasonable, but I can’t help it.”
She laughed coldly, “Do you think Rong Shu Kuang doesn’t know I hate her? She knows she knows everything, but she won’t resist. She’s eternally obedient and loyal to the Lin family. Since childhood, she’s been prepared to sacrifice for the Lin family. Back then, my mother recognized this quality in her and decided to adopt her. My mother never misjudged anyone in her life. They all say Lin Wan Ci is clever, haha… They don’t know that my cleverness doesn’t amount to half of my mother’s.”
As she spoke, a dreamy expression appeared on her face, her eyes suddenly gentle as water.
Yan Shao couldn’t help saying: “As far as I know, Madam Lin passed away very early. Miss Lin was quite young at that time…”
Lin Wan Ci laughed coldly: “Indeed, my mother did pass away very early, but she anticipated everything, even events twenty years later.”
“The events twenty years later refer to…” Yan Shao frowned slightly.
“For instance, her falling in love with Shao Ci. Hehe, in her last words, mother instructed that Rong Shu Kuang must never marry into the Lin family.”
“Oh, why?”
Lin Wan Ci didn’t answer. Her clear gaze fixed steadily on Yan Shao, and she suddenly smiled: “Originally, there would be no harm in telling Master Chu these things, since Rong Shu Kuang is no longer the Rong Shu Kuang of the past, but…”
Yan Shao’s expression changed slightly as he interjected: “When did you know?”
Lin Wan Ci smiled: “Master Chu shouldn’t forget that I’ve known her for twenty years. She might fool others, but she can’t fool me.”
The sun slanted westward, its light skimming over the Qinhuai River, casting the shadows of houses, trees, and pedestrians onto the clear rippling water. The river flowed forward without a sound.
Yan Shao remained silent, his entire face hidden in shadow, his brows slightly furrowed, eyes half-lowered, his gaze obscure. There seemed to be a bewitching mist in his eyes that made it difficult to see clearly. He held an exquisite celadon cup in his hand, his slender middle finger absently stroking the cup’s pattern, as if unconsciously.
The tea in the celadon cup had long gone cold, its original cyan color changing, gradually revealing a thick, astringent base.
In the silence, Lin Wan Ci suddenly laughed, then sighed: “It seems rumors aren’t to be trusted.”
Yan Shao raised his eyes slightly to look at her.
She said in a slightly mocking tone: “Rumors say the master never shows emotions on his face, yet at this moment I see the word ‘fear’ in your eyes. This is thousands of miles from the rumors. Is it because concern confuses the mind? Hehe.”
Yan Shao said nothing, but the corners of his mouth curled into a bitter smile.
Lin Wan Ci couldn’t help laughing again, almost scornfully: “I don’t understand what’s so special about this Rong Shu Kuang that makes Master Chu—”
Yan Shao’s gaze suddenly turned cold and sharp.
Lin Wan Ci immediately coughed lightly and said no more, but the atmosphere inevitably became awkward.
Yan Shao undoubtedly realized this too. After a moment of silence, he said: “Indeed, Shu Kuang has many shortcomings. Compared to you, she’s not clever enough. So you look down on her—but if you think that being beautiful and intelligent gives you more reason to be happy, then you’re wrong.”
He paused, staring at Lin Wan Ci: “Happiness has always belonged only to ordinary women. You’re too outstanding; fate doesn’t allow you to be ordinary.”
Lin Wan Ci said nothing, but her beautiful face turned frightfully pale. Her hands, hidden in her sleeves, clenched tightly.
Yan Shao continued: “For someone like Miss Lin, it’s difficult to find a matching man in this world. Some resentful words are understandable. However, I don’t like hearing people criticize my wife to my face.”
Lin Wan Ci quickly regained her composure. Her jade-like hands lightly brushed her sleeves as she stood up, smiling: “I’m sorry for my presumption just now. I will remember the master’s words in my heart.”
Yan Shao smiled faintly: “That would be best.”
Lin Wan Ci maintained her composure and continued: “Since Madam Chu’s fate is uncertain, let’s put the treasure hunt aside for now. Yu Chi Mountain Manor’s people will continue to assist in investigating this matter. As soon as there’s news, we will inform Master Chu. I have matters to attend to. I’ll take my leave.”
Yan Shao said impassively: “Thank you for your trouble, Miss Lin.”
Lin Wan Ci smiled brightly, bowed slightly, and departed.
Yan Shao watched as her figure gradually disappeared down the vermilion stairs. His sword-like eyebrows slowly unfurled like two leaves in spring.
The voices in the teahouse gradually quieted down. As the remaining sunlight completely faded, they quickly rose again. People came and went upstairs. Only he remained sitting in the elegant pavilion without moving. He still held the teacup in his hand, and the tea water, which had been cold for some time, suddenly began to emit a trace of steam.
He seemed not to notice even when Dudu Niao entered, appearing absorbed in his thoughts.
Dudu Niao didn’t dare disturb him. He poured himself a cup of tea, but it was cold to the touch. He was startled, looked up at the teacup in Yan Shao’s hand, then at his own, and suddenly understood, his eyes wide with astonishment. He knew the man before him had powerful martial arts, but didn’t realize they were this formidable.
At this moment, Yan Shao asked calmly: “How did things go?”
Dudu Niao came back to his senses. Boasting and exaggerating were almost his innate talents: “Oh, that? A small matter. With me taking action, of course, it was an immediate success…”
Suddenly noticing Yan Shao’s serious expression, he stopped and took out a package from his bosom, handing it over.
This object was wrapped in cyan fabric with a white silk ribbon tied around it in an elegant butterfly knot. Yan Shao took it but didn’t open it to look. He merely felt it with his hand, slightly furrowed his brow, then felt it again. His expression changed, and a smile that seemed like crying appeared at the corners of his lips.
In all the time Dudu Niao had known him, he had never seen such rich expressions on his face in an instant. He found it strange, not knowing what the object was—to him, it had just felt like a small bundle of fabric. “Master, what’s inside?” he asked.
“How many hours did it take you to obtain this?” Yan Shao asked instead of answering.
“About four or five hours.”
“Be more specific.”
“Nearly five hours. I can’t be more specific. I… I took a nap in between, hehe…” He laughed dryly. Seeing no reaction from Yan Shao, he timidly admitted: “All right, I confess, I also went to Zui Hong Tower for some wine. But I didn’t mess around! I just had a little drink, then I took the thing and went back to sleep…”
Yan Shao’s eyebrows knitted tighter as he interrupted: “So, do you know what you should do next?”
Dudu Niao quickly nodded: “I know, I know…”
Yan Shao snorted, suddenly released his palm, and went downstairs.
The celadon cup fell onto the table without a sound, and there wasn’t a drop of water left inside. Dudu Niao couldn’t help bending down to look. After a moment, he exhaled: “Wow! So impre—”
Before he could finish speaking, the celadon cup suddenly cracked. Fragments like fine dust scattered in all directions with his breath—the celadon cup had turned to powder but was maintained by a force, still appearing intact, yet unable to withstand even the slightest external force.
This time he was truly astonished, his eyes wide with shock, genuinely admiring Yan Shao from his heart. For the next ten years and more, he would restrain his nature, concentrate wholeheartedly, and follow Yan Shao to learn martial arts, eventually becoming a martial arts master of his generation.
At this moment, he came to his senses, rushed downstairs in a few steps, but had already lost sight of Yan Shao. The Qinhuai River was brilliantly lit under the night sky, flowing with light and colors, appearing increasingly lively.
Dudu Niao went west along the teahouse, then turned to wander east along the Qinhuai River bank. He walked, stopping now and then, flirting with pretty girls whenever he saw them. After walking for about an hour like this, the songs and laughter from the Confucian Temple were left far behind, gradually becoming inaudible. A bright, clear moon hung in the sky, casting an icy luster like a jade plate, mutually admiring its reflection in the deep blue water. The night breeze by the water carried a hint of coolness, and the sounds of frogs and insects rose and fell among the lush, abundant water plants.
He stood among the weeds by the water, looking around. The river divided the houses on both shores into two. Unlike the city, this rural area had only a few dim starry lights, appearing overall shadowy and indistinct, with vague outlines. Not caring whether the place was right or not, he squatted down among the weeds, kicked off his shoes, and began rubbing his feet. After a while, greatly annoyed by the biting insects but not daring to disobey Yan Shao’s instructions, he couldn’t help feeling resentful—in the middle of the night, being sent to this godforsaken place to wait for a passing boat, waiting until now without seeing even a ghost.
Waiting is the most unbearable experience. After another half hour, he became truly impatient. Just as he put on his shoes and was about to leave, after walking a few steps, he suddenly stopped, cocked his ear, and listened carefully.
A light sound came from the vast water’s surface, faintly the sound of oars cutting through the water.
He quickly bent down, parted the lush water plants, and peered intently. He saw a layer of white mist over the water’s surface. Nearby, he could see the moon’s reflection in the water, but in the distance was only hazy fog. However, as the sound of oars approached, a boat came through the mist across the water.
When he saw it, his mouth fell open in astonishment.