He Bang was sullen and downcast, and naturally Rong Chen Zi felt anxious and unsettled as well. The skies over Qingxu Temple seemed to have turned cloudy once more. The young Daoists this time had no idea what had happened, yet even their footsteps had grown careful and cautious, as though the ground beneath them were laced with buried landmines. In an attempt to improve the atmosphere, the young Daoists employed every roundabout method they could devise — cooking He Bang all manner of dishes and buying her toys. Qingsu even went so far as to disguise a cat as the divine beast Fei Fei to cheer her up.

Despite everyone’s tireless efforts, she at last regained a little of her spirit — yet she still disliked being touched by Rong Chen Zi, and in particular, once night fell, she would sooner sleep in the secret chamber than share a bed with him.

Rong Chen Zi found himself at something of a loss. He had read countless scriptures and subdued ten thousand demons and monsters, but coaxing a girl into sharing his bed was, in truth, simply not among his strengths. Yet there were certain matters where others truly could not lend a hand. Setting aside all dignity, he quietly dug out two volumes of chamber arts from among the many Daoist texts, and on a pitch-dark, windswept night when not a soul was around, he shamefacedly flipped through them.

The two volumes of secret arts were nothing like the vulgar literature one might find hawked on street corners. Their descriptions were, it must be said, rather proper, and their illustrations had taken care to apply a kind of censorship — yet even so, Rong Chen Zi’s face was flushed scarlet. A pitch-dark, windswept night, not a soul around, a man who ordinarily carried himself with the most impeccably righteous and solemn bearing, a man who had left the secular world behind — leaning against his headboard reading this sort of book… however one thought about it, there was something rather unsavory about it, wasn’t there?

Ah, no — not rather unsavory — it was absolutely, irredeemably unsavory, wasn’t it?!

After much internal deliberation, Rong Chen Zi finally glanced in the direction of the secret chamber, steeled himself, opened the pages, and read through them carefully. As the saying goes, within books there are beautiful women — some of those techniques were unlike anything he had ever heard of. Turning through a few pages, he could not help but feel a certain sense of wonder. The knowledge in this world truly did require broad and thorough study; who could have foreseen, back then, that these methods would one day prove useful?

While he was on his side studying the secret arts, He Bang on her end could not keep still. The weather had been growing gradually warmer, and she had become more dependent on water. Ordinarily, Rong Chen Zi guarded against every threat — be it fire, theft, or the Dragon King himself — and kept her right beneath his watchful eye, forbidding her from leaving Qingxu Temple, and even forbidding her from going alone to play in the stone spring on the rear mountain. When she grew truly bored, she would go to the dining hall and plunge headfirst into the water vat, not stirring for a long while.

In the beginning, an early-rising young Daoist would pass by innocently, see her kneeling before the vat with her entire head submerged in it and not moving for what felt like ages, and nearly be frightened out of their wits. Eventually, however, they grew accustomed to the sight, and simply replaced her vat with a larger one.

Later on, Qingxuan, taking decisive action, led his fellow disciples in digging a large pond in their master’s courtyard. They lined all four sides with green stone slabs, filled it daily with water drawn from the spring on the rear mountain, and dedicated it entirely to her enjoyment. Only then did she grow happy. She stopped diving into the water vats, and spent her days soaking in the pond, blowing bubbles.

Rong Chen Zi sighed inwardly. Before, when she had stayed in the secret chamber, he could at least go spend a while keeping her company to sleep at night — but now that she was in the pond…

Yet since He Bang liked it, he raised no objections. He even soul-traveled to the South Sea one evening and secretly picked some lotus flowers to plant in the pond. These lotuses needed no mud, they bloomed the moment they touched water, they flowered in every season, and they were of incomparable, luminous beauty. He Bang tucked herself beneath a great pink lotus bud and peeked out from between the lotus leaves, half her face emerging from the water to look at him. The radiant bloom reflected in the water, and the person within more beautiful than the flower itself — Rong Chen Zi could not help himself, and slipped into the water.

She played and drifted beneath the lotuses in the water, her garments like gauze, appearing and disappearing. Rong Chen Zi made several attempts to catch her and failed each time, until finally he seized hold of a corner of her robe. She struggled and could not pull free, and was at last drawn to his side. Rong Chen Zi gazed quietly at her. The green water and the lotus blooms cast their reflection across her face, and her eyes, even more than the gentle, jade-clear water, were soft and tender. His heart stirred faintly, and he quickly reined in his thoughts, murmuring softly to coax her: “Come inside. You can play again tomorrow.”

He Bang refused to comply. In the water, she was radiant in a way that shone from her very core — rippling light and laughter tracing her movements, her form like a soaring swan. Even Rong Chen Zi, deep-rooted as his foundations were, found himself somewhat unable to keep his composure. He drew He Bang beneath a lotus leaf and kissed her softly on her moist, warm lips.

He Bang, astonishingly, showed no sign of resistance. Rong Chen Zi lingered over that breathtaking, world-overturning beauty, and could not help but embrace and kiss her for a long while. When he finally came back to his senses, he was overwhelmed with self-reproach. In broad daylight, in the clear light of heaven and earth, he had actually — in the courtyard — with her… what a breach of propriety this was! He released He Bang. The corner of her robe, soft and light as a cloud, slipped through his palm, and the girl swam away playfully once more. Rong Chen Zi gave a quiet sigh, the silken smoothness of her garment still lingering in his hand.

The very next morning, the mayor of Lingxia Town made a special trip up the mountain to request an audience with Rong Chen Zi, respectfully inviting him to preside over a ceremony at Lingxia Town’s altar to the heavens. It was because of the keel-serpent incident — the townsfolk had all been badly frightened, and now that they had at last recovered their vitality, they wished to hold a ritual prayer service: first to pray for the town’s blessings, and second to settle people’s hearts and minds.

This was, of course, a perfectly reasonable matter, and Rong Chen Zi naturally did not decline. He Bang, the sort of person who showed up at nine out of ten events regardless of whether she was invited, naturally intended to go along as well. Rong Chen Zi knew he could not resist her persistence, and simply agreed readily to bring her along. But before they departed, he still found himself giving her many instructions: “The people in the town below are simple and honest in their customs, and they are especially strict about proprieties between men and women. If you wish to accompany me, you may — but you must not behave as freely and willfully as you do in the temple. Moreover, I am making this trip to perform the altar ceremony, which is a solemn affair. You must be well-behaved and absolutely must not cause any trouble.”

He Bang stared at him with her wide, dewy eyes, giving no indication of whether she had actually taken any of this in. Rong Chen Zi let out a sigh. Seeing that no one else was passing through the courtyard, he drew her into his arms and held her lightly for just a moment: “It is not that I am unwilling to allow you to be close to me. It is simply that I am, after all, a man of the Daoist order, and today I am presiding over Qingxu Temple’s gates. Even with private desires, I absolutely would not dare, through my own actions alone, to bring disgrace upon the traditions of the Daoist faith. If you have any doubts, once the ceremony is concluded, I will remove my headpiece and return to secular life — and after that, whatever you wish, I will go along with.”

His expression was grave and earnest. He Bang’s body had not yet fully matured, and her mind did not always work at its sharpest. She thought about this for a long time, and finally managed to work out one conclusion: “You mean — if I tell you to return to secular life, you won’t be allowed to go watch the ceremony this time?”

Rong Chen Zi was somewhere between tears and laughter: “Mm — though afterward, I would take you to many places.”

He Bang began calculating: “But if you don’t return to secular life, I can still go watch the ceremony, and afterward you’ll still take me to many places anyway!” She finally arrived at her answer. “Then you should not return to secular life — I want to go watch the ceremony!”

…

Rong Chen Zi began to pack his things. In the wake of the keel-serpent disaster, this ceremony was to be especially grand, and a great many ritual implements needed to be prepared. Rong Chen Zi brought nine of the senior Qing-generation disciples down the mountain with him, leaving the temple’s affairs in Ye Tian’s hands. Ye Tian had no objections whatsoever — she had attended more ceremonies than she could count, and found them thoroughly boring. It was far more pleasant to stay in the temple.

Still, she was a little uneasy about Rong Chen Zi taking He Bang out, and just as she had done before, she packed a full chest of food, clothing, and toys for He Bang to bring along. He Bang, just before she left, snuck over and whispered something into her ear that set her laughing loudly. After the ordeal they had been through, the tension between the two of them had dissolved completely — He Bang treated Ye Tian even more warmly than she treated him.

Rong Chen Zi, meticulous as he was, still managed to give Ye Tian another round of instructions before finally bringing He Bang and the disciples down the mountain.

Below the mountain, a crowd of people had come to receive them. There were so many people that Rong Chen Zi, afraid He Bang might wander off, instructed her to stay in the carriage and not go anywhere. He Bang pouted, her face full of displeasure. Rong Chen Zi had no choice but to signal wordlessly to his disciple Qingyun. Qingyun’s scalp prickled, yet he did not dare go against his master’s wishes.

As Rong Chen Zi stepped down from the carriage, he caught sight of Minister Liu. The Minister had connections at the top, and the authorities had naturally taken great care of him — his entire household had come through the disaster without a single casualty. However, Liu Qinfang, the young daughter of the Liu family, had gone missing. When the town had been struck by the sudden calamity and evil spirits had run rampant, he had not been in a position to see to this daughter of his. Now that Rong Chen Zi had arrived, the minister was as effusive as ever: “Zhiguan! It has been a long time — are you keeping well?”

Rong Chen Zi pressed his palms together in a gesture of greeting by way of reply: “All is well. Thank you for your concern, honored minister.”

Minister Liu walked alongside him arm in arm, still wanting him to divine his daughter’s whereabouts. And how could He Bang be anyone who kept still? Sitting in the carriage was like sitting on a cushion embedded with thorns. Qingyun, afraid she might cause a scene in public and humiliate his master, could only rummage through his bag and produce a few dried vegetarian duck necks to appease her. This was his latest culinary creation — he didn’t taste them himself, but he could tell from He Bang’s expression what sort of flavor they were. These things were a diamond-grade treasure, and he had not made many.

With the dried vegetarian duck necks to occupy her, He Bang’s patience increased enormously, and she lost interest in whatever was happening in front of the carriage, settling in to gnaw on them slowly.

The minister’s inclination, as before, was to invite Rong Chen Zi to stay at his private villa. Rong Chen Zi felt that the Liu household was too crowded and full of eyes — who knew what complications might arise this time around? Moreover, He Bang was lively and always on the move, and sharing a residence with others would inevitably be inconvenient. With this in mind, he politely declined and brought his disciples to stay in the guesthouse the town mayor had specially arranged for him.

Although the guesthouse was not as luxurious as the Liu estate, its surroundings were pleasantly serene. The carriage came to a stop before the vermilion gates, and Rong Chen Zi paused in his steps as well. He had long enjoyed considerable prestige in Lingxia Town, and coming as he did in the aftermath of a great disaster while the townsfolk were still shaken with lingering fear, an even larger crowd had gathered at the gates to await him. In those times, the people were simple and honest in their customs, and since he had worked tirelessly on their behalf, they inevitably pressed upon him gifts of fruits, eggs, and the like.

Unable to refuse them, he simply let his disciples accept the offerings. The townsfolk, having presented their gifts, felt at ease, and surrounded him asking questions about all manner of unrelated matters — whether his wife’s current pregnancy would be a boy or a girl, whether the neighbor Old Yu’s sow having bitten its own piglets to death a few days prior might be an omen of ill fortune, and so on.

Yet all of these questions came to a halt in an instant. Before the guesthouse gates, where several hundred people had gathered, silence fell so absolute that a pin could have been heard dropping. Rong Chen Zi turned his head. Through the carriage curtain, He Bang lifted the flap and descended. That morning, eager to go out, she had stubbornly refused to let Ye Tian style her hair, and had on her way out simply reached up and plucked a few sprigs of lily of the valley, weaving them into a hair ring. The small, snow-white lily of the valley blossoms bloomed across her hair and forehead, and as the breeze caught her feathered robes, the brilliant morning light gilded her silhouette — she looked like a spirit born from the blossoms of early morning.

Everyone gaped. The crowd fell utterly silent. After a long moment, someone asked in a low voice: “Who… who is that? Which family’s immortal maiden is she?”

Someone answered in an even lower voice: “You don’t know her?! She’s the sacred vessel of our Zhiguan — her beauty is enough to make fish sink and wild geese fall from the sky. I’ve seen her out playing when I went up the mountain to burn incense before. Little Master Qingxuan used to run after her trying to coax her, heh heh. Though she seemed older back then… could the arts of dual cultivation truly be so extraordinary that they can make a person appear to grow younger?!”

“Psh, what do you know? Zhiguan himself is a divine being — she has received so much of his grace and dew, ahem, she naturally would be twenty this year and eighteen the next!”

“With looks like that, even a goddess would pale in comparison — no wonder even a being as extraordinary as Zhiguan has been moved…”

Rong Chen Zi was so mortified by all the chatter that he wanted to die, yet He Bang herself was completely oblivious. She bounced her way over to Rong Chen Zi’s side, the golden bells on her anklets chiming pleasantly: “Zhiguan, is this where we’re staying today?”

Rong Chen Zi had been working up his composure for quite some time but still couldn’t bring himself to take her small hand, only giving a low sound of assent. She immediately turned and ran toward the courtyard ahead: “Then I’m going to sleep for a while first — I’m exhausted after walking so far!”

She ran like a rolling snowball. The hearts of every person present seemed to tremble along with that rhythm. Rong Chen Zi still stood rooted in place, the faint trace of her fragrance lingering at the tip of his nose, unable to follow her inside. Since the master could not go, Qingyun could only chase after her, thinking privately: Mistress, you did not walk at all today! After we came down the mountain you rode in the carriage, and on the mountain path before that, the master carried you for half of it and you rode a donkey for the other half…