Rong Chen Zi brought Ye Tian, He Bang, and Qingsu down the mountain. Considering that his junior sister and He Bang were both traveling together, he took along an additional disciple named Qing Ling to attend to them — this also counted as training outside the temple for the disciples.

He Bang had at first walked cheerfully enough ahead, but by the time they reached the mid-mountain slope, she had pulled her brows together, the smile entirely gone from her face. She clasped Rong Chen Zi’s arm, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears: “Rong Chen Zi, my feet hurt.”

Rong Chen Zi initially assumed she was simply throwing another tantrum, and paid no attention. Later, as she walked slower and slower with her brows knitted tight, he finally took it seriously: “We haven’t walked far at all — how can your feet already hurt?”

He had everyone rest at a level patch of ground. Ye Tian was deeply displeased, but with the younger disciples present she still minded her dignity and did not make a scene.

With his disciples present, Rong Chen Zi also found it inconvenient to inspect her feet himself, and so helped her to a sheltered spot thick with flowers and trees, then gently removed her cloth shoes. The moment the shoe came off, he frowned — that dainty, delicate little foot had been rubbed raw by the shoe, blood seeping out and staining the silk stocking a deep red.

Before the blood could congeal, Rong Chen Zi removed her stocking, and his voice carried a restraint that could not conceal a flash of distressed anger: “If the shoe didn’t fit, why didn’t you say so?!”

He Bang was already afraid of pain to begin with, and at this point her eyes were brimming with tears: “The shoes do fit.”

Rong Chen Zi immediately understood. That white feathered robe of hers must be a magical instrument, serving to protect the body in ordinary circumstances. But since her true form was curled inside the shell, and she would then adopt a human body also protected by the magical instrument, her skin was inevitably of an extraordinary delicacy — it simply could not withstand the chafing of coarse cloth shoes.

He Bang kept on whimpering that it hurt. Rong Chen Zi sighed — and then he suddenly bent down and took that large, warm jade-like big toe into his mouth. The tip of her foot was enveloped in a warmth and tenderness; He Bang looked down at him.

He was, by nature, an exceptionally fastidious man, and it was nearly impossible to imagine him doing such a thing. He bent his head low, drew out all the blood and impurities from her delicate foot with his lips, gently kneaded the swelling near the wound with his fingertip, and poured the medicine over it.

He Bang lowered her eyes slightly. He knelt there on the ground, still in his Daoist robe, his robes immaculate, his refined features bearing — after years of stern self-discipline — a quality that was just a touch too earnest and serious.

He Bang looked at him in silence. Rong Chen Zi felt it, and looked back up to meet her gaze. The skin of that little foot was truly too fine and soft — as though a single firm draw would sap it of all its essence.

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. He lifted He Bang into his arms, turned away his eyes to conceal a heart that had suddenly begun to beat faster: “We’re nearly at the bottom. Once we’re down we’ll take a carriage.”

He Bang was unusually compliant, pressing her face against his broad chest and giving a small nod: “Mm.”

Behind the veil of flowers and leaves, Ye Tian watched the two of them from afar, a spasm of pain moving through her heart — as if fire had burned a great hollow through it.

Below Lingxia Mountain lay a small town — not as prosperous as the capital, but a thoroughfare in all directions, an important crossroads. With the mountains at its back and water at its face, the scenery was beautiful, and it was the preferred retreat for many people of wisdom and discernment in their later years.

Grand Secretary Liu, for instance, the current Emperor’s personal tutor — after retiring from office he had brought his entire household to settle in Lingxia Town. Here, far from the mountains and far from the emperor, he was emperor himself. He spent his days raising birds, tending flowers, taking on a succession of fifteen or sixteen concubines, staying out of all affairs, living what could only be described as the life of an immortal.

Rong Chen Zi had dealt with Grand Secretary Liu on a previous occasion — before his retirement, Grand Secretary Liu had contracted tuberculosis, and all the imperial physicians were at a complete loss; it was Rong Chen Zi who had used Daoist techniques to cleanse and restore his lungs. From that point on, Grand Secretary Liu had treated Rong Chen Zi as a living immortal, holding him in the highest esteem in all words and conduct.

Rong Chen Zi had no interest in officialdom. The Grand Secretary had even recommended Rong Chen Zi’s martial brother Zhuang Shaoqin to the Emperor — but that is a digression for another time.

For this visit, the Liu Mansion had sent people early to receive them, but Rong Chen Zi had wanted to take Ye Tian and He Bang for a stroll through the market, and so had politely declined their good intentions. Now that He Bang’s feet would not carry her, Rong Chen Zi had no choice but to hire a carriage and bring her, Ye Tian, Qingsu, and the others directly to the Liu Mansion.

Arriving in this manner meant they were two days early. Grand Secretary Liu had taken his wives out for an autumn excursion and had not yet returned. The chief steward was also away from the mansion; the one in charge was a factotum surnamed Hai. This factotum was not familiar with Rong Chen Zi and, seeing his party arrive without any great display of ceremony, inevitably developed some contemptuous thoughts.

Rong Chen Zi didn’t trouble himself with any of it — settling He Bang and Ye Tian first was the most pressing matter. Factotum Hai was over fifty, still vigorous in appearance, save for a pair of eyes that rolled and darted about with a shrewdness that had gone a degree too far. Without even attending to Rong Chen Zi’s party, he immediately moved to take Rong Chen Zi to the construction site where Grand Secretary Liu planned to build a new residence.

Before Rong Chen Zi could say a word, He Bang pouted and spoke first: “Zhiguan, my feet hurt — I don’t want to walk anymore.”

Only then did Factotum Hai notice that behind this Daoist there was a pampered and delicate-looking Daoist apprentice boy, and his manner immediately turned even more disagreeable. Ye Tian was furious and was about to argue with him — Rong Chen Zi stopped her: “Never mind.” He turned to address the factotum: “When your Grand Secretary returns, tell him I am lodging at Qiuyun Courtyard.”

Factotum Hai gave an outward nod, but inwardly was rather dismissive — Who do you think you are, speaking so boldly!

So his reply was truly not particularly respectful: “That’ll work then — come back when our Grand Secretary gets back.”

Ye Tian could not contain her indignation and immediately lashed out: “What a short-sighted and arrogant servant! My Elder Brother is…” Rong Chen Zi stopped her, his expression gentle: “All right — let’s get settled first at Qiuyun Courtyard. The Grand Secretary isn’t in — there’s nothing pressing. I’ll take you all for a walk around.”

That evening, the party indeed took up lodgings at Qiuyun Courtyard. The Qiuyun Courtyard was a tranquil establishment, its guests mostly scholars and gentlemen of refined taste, its surroundings quiet and elegant — and its prices accordingly steep. Rong Chen Zi had booked an entire courtyard. He Bang’s feet were aching, and she turned in early. Qingsu and Qing Ling finished arranging the baggage and the like, then each retired to their own rooms.

That left He Bang and Ye Tian. Ye Tian asserted herself with force: “Elder Brother, at the temple she is your… cultivation vessel, so sharing a room goes without saying. But now that we are traveling outside, you sharing a room with her is hardly appropriate, is it?”

Rong Chen Zi frowned slightly: “It is only that she is always getting into mischief by nature. If she is left to sleep alone, Elder Brother truly cannot be at ease.”

Ye Tian planted herself between the two of them like a crab moving sideways: “Then I will share a room with her — Elder Brother can rest completely at ease!”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than He Bang set up a wail: “I don’t want to sleep with you!”

Rong Chen Zi was quite caught in a bind. Ye Tian turned and hauled He Bang into the room. He Bang was utterly aggrieved: “Zhiguan!!”

Rong Chen Zi hesitated. For the first time, Ye Tian spoke to him with real force: “You have given yourself over to the indulgences of the heart — I’ll leave that to you. But you cannot simply disregard the reputation of Qingxu Temple entirely, can you? If word gets out that Qingxu Temple’s Zhiguan accepted an invitation to perform a ritual and still brought a woman to share his room — what will people think?”

He Bang put on her most pitiable expression: “Zhiguan, I don’t want to sleep with her!”

Rong Chen Zi pressed his brows together: “Let her have her own room. I will set up a formation array to keep her from going in and out as she pleases.”

Ye Tian’s eyes went wide, her face full of anger: “You don’t trust me! You are afraid I would harm her!” Hurt and fury both shone in her eyes. Rong Chen Zi sighed softly: “Little Ye, how could Elder Brother not trust you? It is only that her temperament is difficult, she resists all authority, and furthermore she is not accustomed to dealing with strangers — it is better to let her have her own room.”

Ye Tian’s anger blazed. Over all these years, she and Rong Chen Zi had shared the warmth of close friendship, with nothing left unsaid. But this woman — on the strength of a single face — had made him so besotted he couldn’t even set her aside. She turned and walked back into her room, closing the door behind her with a decisive thud: “Do whatever you like!”

Rong Chen Zi sighed once more. He carried He Bang into the room next to his, drew fresh water, and gave her another careful and thorough scrubbing. While he tidied the room, He Bang played on the sleeping platform. Rong Chen Zi carried the water out to dispose of it — and then he inevitably looked again at the wound on her foot.

The medicine he had applied was spiritual medicine, extremely precious; by now the torn skin on He Bang’s small foot had already stopped bleeding, with only some redness and swelling remaining — like a scratch on a beauty’s face, it left a kind of harsh and striking beauty against that crystal-clear jade-smooth foot.

Rong Chen Zi held those two feet. He Bang sensed that his breathing had grown slightly uneven. He was suppressing it with great effort, and yet his fingertips were gently tracing each of her toes.

She leaned in close and called softly: “Zhiguan.”

Rong Chen Zi’s hands — bearing faint traces of calluses — rubbed gently at her feet. After a long moment he replied: “Mm?”

He Bang launched herself from the sleeping platform straight into his arms, and discovered that he was already physically affected. This reaction left He Bang momentarily puzzled — Wait — does this old Daoist actually want to… do things to my feet?!

She lifted her head and pressed a soft kiss to the underside of Rong Chen Zi’s chin. He was already mortified at himself for having allowed that trace of licentious thought to surface, and then unprepared, she provoked him further. He gently pushed her away, and his voice had taken on its habitual gentleness: “All right — time to sleep.”

He Bang curled up against him and played coy: “I’m afraid of the dark.”

Rong Chen Zi sat down at the edge of the platform and gently ruffled her dark hair: “Sleep — I’ll wait until you fall asleep before I go.”

He Bang was hardly so well-behaved. She lay with her head pillowed on Rong Chen Zi’s thigh, and in no time at all reached out to feel for that proudly raised presence. Rong Chen Zi’s face instantly turned red as his neck: “Stop that!”

He Bang was very eager to learn: “Rong Chen Zi, let me have a look.” Rong Chen Zi refused absolutely: “Stop that!”

He Bang slowly dragged her small foot across the back of his hand. Rong Chen Zi, afraid of touching the wound on her foot, held himself motionless and endured. That soft, tender jade foot drew across the back of his hand again and again. Rong Chen Zi’s breathing grew gradually more rapid. After a long moment, he suddenly swept his sleeve out and extinguished all the candles in the room.

He Bang was still protesting: “What the hell — you put the light out, how am I supposed to see…”

And not long after, she finally understood that Rong Chen Zi had never intended to let her look at anything, but rather had gone directly ahead and put it to use…