Gu Jinghong offered no further explanation. His main purpose for this visit was to check on An Jiu’s physical reconstruction.
Mo Sigui hadn’t disappointed. Although An Jiu’s meridians couldn’t be fully restored, if she continued down the path of external cultivation, she would likely achieve significant accomplishments.
In the dim lamplight, An Jiu’s expression gradually calmed, but her gaze remained sharp and vigilant, like a hidden blade.
It was this very expression that had caught Gu Jinghong’s attention in the plum garden. At that time, she had managed to remove his mask despite having almost no inner strength, which delighted him immensely. This girl possessed a natural killing aura—she was born to be an assassin! With proper training, she would soon become a lethal weapon.
However, An Jiu’s current wariness made Gu Jinghong feel uneasy. It seemed urgent to improve their relationship.
After brief consideration, he identified the cause and said, “You might not believe what I’m about to tell you. Your mother has never served in the imperial bed, nor will she in the future.”
An Jiu frowned, her gaze tinged with mockery.
Gu Jinghong pondered for a moment before revealing the truth, “I proposed rebuilding another branch of the Dragon Guard. This branch only executes missions and isn’t responsible for serving in the imperial bed. His Majesty approved this, as he’s still human and needs to address worldly affairs. Besides His Majesty, the Crane Controller, and myself, you’re the fourth person to know this. You can pretend you never heard it, but if you leak this information, I’m sure you can imagine the consequences.”
Even as the emperor sought immortality and enlightenment, he couldn’t completely ignore state affairs. As the person responsible for the nation’s safety, he indeed needed protection and people to handle various matters, including assassinations.
Gu Jinghong spoke with conviction, leaving An Jiu half-believing. However, even if Mei Yanran didn’t serve in the imperial bed, An Jiu wouldn’t consider joining the Dragon Guard. She was all too familiar with Gu Jinghong’s gaze. In her previous life, her organization’s commander often looked at her the same way, exclaiming, “Thank God! An, you’re the perfect weapon He has given me to conquer the world.”
An Jiu had always lived a precarious life, only able to see the present and tomorrow. With missions, she would navigate through bloodshed; without them, she would hide. She was accustomed to receiving and waiting for orders. Losing her commander was like losing direction. However, after experiencing many things, An Jiu seemed to slowly rediscover herself. Although still uncertain about the future, she had formed a clear idea—in this life, even if she couldn’t escape the fate of becoming a killing tool again, she would become her weapon!
Gu Jinghong hadn’t expected An Jiu to believe him, so seeing no reaction from her, he simply said, “Until we meet again,” and left of his own accord.
Gazing into the darkness outside, An Jiu fell into deep thought.
What exactly did Gu Jinghong want to do? He didn’t seem entirely loyal to the emperor, yet he was so eager to rebuild the Dragon Guard. His motives were highly suspicious.
An Jiu also thought of Chu Dingjiang, who seemed to be constantly recruiting people. Was it purely to consolidate his position within the Crane Control Army?
She couldn’t understand or guess their objectives. However, just from the turmoil within the Crane Control Army, she could sense the hidden turbulence beneath the Song Dynasty’s calm surface. Perhaps once unrest began, it would lead to a dynastic change.
“Heh,” An Jiu chuckled to herself.
In the deathly silent room, only her abrupt laughter could be heard.
An Jiu, with an attitude of “if I can’t be well off, neither should others,” anticipated the potential upcoming chaos with great excitement.
This was the happiest moment since she had entered the assassin profession, bar none.
Over the next few days, An Jiu remained in high spirits, practicing martial arts with particular enthusiasm.
Her skin, like that of a newborn, changed daily, gradually becoming fair and delicate. This made her appear even younger than girls her age. When Mo Sigui woke up and saw her, he was startled, exclaiming, “I didn’t know external cultivation reconstruction had a rejuvenating effect!”
After finishing his porridge and wiping his mouth, Mo Sigui said, “I’ve decided that after I turn fifty, I must reconstruct my body too, going from fifty to fifteen.”
“I support you,” An Jiu responded, actively affirming his idea.
Hearing her tone and recalling his miserable state at the time, Mo Sigui raised his hand to smooth his robe. Shamelessly changing his mind, he said, “On second thought, never mind. For a man like me who mainly relies on inner charm to captivate others, appearance is just icing on the cake. Maturity has its allure.”
An Jiu snorted, wanting to mock him, but then remembered she still needed Mo Sigui’s help to practice the Meridian-Breaking Palm. She took out the tattered booklet, placed it in front of him, opened it to the third page, and said stiffly while pointing at the text, “It says one needs to understand human meridians. This is your specialty, right? Explain it to me.”
It was rare for her to ask someone for help, and her expression was awkward.
“Looking down on me, are you?” Mo Sigui stroked his eyebrow, deliberately making things difficult. “This isn’t just a specialty; it’s ingrained in a doctor’s bones. It’s too simple, not interesting enough.”
An Jiu frowned, pursed her lips, and clenched her fists, trying hard to restrain herself.
Just as Mo Sigui thought An Jiu would either bow her head to beg or explode in anger, he heard her calmly ask, “Is being cheap ingrained in your bones?”
“What?” Mo Sigui raised an eyebrow, tapping the table surface in displeasure.
“You said it’s ingrained in your bones, so it should be precious. Yet you look down on it yourself. Doesn’t that make it worthless?” An Jiu tried hard to express her meaning clearly.
Mo Sigui suddenly understood. “Can’t you just speak normally? If you mean worthless, just say worthless. Why say ‘cheap’?”
An Jiu seriously corrected him, “This is a more sophisticated usage.”
Worthless equals not expensive, not expensive equals cheap. Three words condensed into one! How amazing, how profound!
Previously, An Jiu could only speak simple Chinese. Since inheriting Mei Jiu’s accumulated knowledge, her vocabulary had suddenly become so rich that she didn’t know where to start. She had gained this accumulation, but unfortunately, her time with Mei Jiu had been short, so she hadn’t fully learned how to use it. Most of the time, she just grabbed words that seemed to have similar meanings, often choosing expressions she thought were profound.
“I don’t see how that’s sophisticated!” Mo Sigui, unaware of her thoughts, assumed she was deliberately insulting him in a roundabout way.
Never mind, a great man doesn’t hold grudges against petty people! Mo Sigui poured himself a cup of tea, intending to suppress the frustration in his chest.
“It’s okay, I’ll teach you slowly in the future,” An Jiu said confidently, deeply believing that Mei Jiu was particularly cultured and that her astonishing vocabulary surpassed all the languages she knew combined. She was equally convinced that her way of speaking was sophisticated. “In return for you teaching me about human meridians.”
Her tone was so sincere that Mo Sigui couldn’t help but look at her carefully. Seeing her tender face full of “sincerity,” he thought to himself, could there be a fool inhabiting this body?
“The water is overflowing,” An Jiu said without looking, her spiritual sense already detecting it.
Mo Sigui put down the teapot and said after a moment of silence, “I’m quite interested in your sophisticated word usage.”
In reality, he was more interested in An Jiu’s “condition.”
“Deal?” After Mei Jiu’s death, An Jiu gradually discovered that she wasn’t entirely useless.
“Deal,” Mo Sigui agreed.
And so, the matter was happily settled. Mo Sigui began to explain human meridians to An Jiu.
With the guidance of a legendary doctor, mere meridians were child’s play. Mo Sigui was also very satisfied with An Jiu’s comprehension ability, making the teaching process both enjoyable and smooth.
But An Jiu wasn’t very satisfied with Mo Sigui. When she explained the usage of certain words to him, he never seemed to understand precisely. When listening to her explanations, he either looked shocked, completely bewildered, or lost in thought. Additionally, he would check her pulse at random times throughout the day.
“You’ve been checking my pulse quite frequently lately,” An Jiu remarked.
Mo Sigui’s fingers lightly pressed her wrist, his true qi dividing into four streams penetrating along her pulse. After probing for a moment, he looked perplexed.
“Is there something wrong with my body?” An Jiu asked again.
Mo Sigui snapped back to reality, not wanting to voice his suspicions about her mental state. His gaze wandered over her as he searched for an excuse, finally saying slowly, “You’re sixteen now, but your chest still hasn’t developed well. I’m checking if it’s due to a weak spleen or insufficient qi and blood…”
“I think it’s fine,” An Jiu said. This body had started menstruating two years ago, and although not very regular, she estimated there wasn’t a big problem. As for her chest, it was neither too big nor too small in proportion to her body, just a handful. “Too large would hinder movement.”
“If you think it’s fine, then I’m relieved,” Mo Sigui stood up. “I’m going for a walk.”
An Jiu nodded, noticing he looked quite melancholic. Thinking it was because he couldn’t learn vocabulary well, she rarely formed deep connections with others and felt she should cherish this one. So, she earnestly consoled him, “You can learn things slowly. I won’t mock you.”
Mo Sigui grinned, clearly smiling, but looking desolate with deep resignation. He silently recited to himself, “In life, who doesn’t encounter a hurdle or two…”
Unable to diagnose An Jiu’s “condition,” temporarily at a loss for how to restore her meridians, and having failed to separate the two souls in one body earlier… Mo Sigui felt he had encountered unprecedented challenges in his medical career.
He went out for a walk, basking in the scorching bright summer sunlight, pondering An Jiu’s consistent behavior. He carefully categorized people into four types: men, women, eunuchs, and An Jiu.
Mo Sigui decided that in the future, he would focus his medical practice on the first three categories. The last category, being extremely rare, would only be studied as a side project. He couldn’t abandon an entire forest for the sake of one crooked tree.
Having figured this out, his mood lightened a bit.
At this very moment, the “crooked tree” was using the token given by Gu Jinghong to review historical records of high-level external cultivators under the guidance of Librarian Sheng.
Observing her increasingly clear eyes, Librarian Sheng smiled faintly. “Divine Doctor Mo is indeed extraordinary.”
After reading the records of several ninth-rank external cultivators, An Jiu asked, “Why did some of them die after completing just one mission?”
It was certainly no coincidence that ninth-rank external cultivation masters had easily perished, with the highest record being only twelve completed missions. An Jiu didn’t know how ninth-rank internal cultivators performed on missions, but Gu Jinghong was a ninth-rank internal cultivator and was practically invincible. While others might not match him, they shouldn’t be too weak either.