Chapter 1029: Minglun Hall

"Wang Changxu has been dead for a hundred years?" Upon hearing this news, Zhuge Yuan's mouth dropped open.

He truly hadn't expected this situation. It was clear that Wang Changxu was indeed his Master's old friend, but his Master hadn't considered that this old friend was a human, and a human lifespan wasn't that long.

There was no way he could go back. He had already boasted so much; if he returned now, where would he put his face?

But the person was dead. What now?

"Um, honored elder," Zhuge Yuan said, raising his hands toward the old man with hair tied up, dressed in black and white robes. He immediately thought of a countermeasure.

"Elder, what Zhuge Yuan says is absolutely true. My Master is indeed that esteemed elder's old friend. If you don't believe me, may I ask if Elder Wang Changxu has any descendants? Perhaps you could inquire with them."

"My Master... my Master has a peculiar appearance. If Elder Wang Changxu ever mentioned him, his descendants would surely remember."

Hearing Zhuge Yuan's words, the old man remained standing without immediately replying, instead continuing to eye the young man before him with suspicion.

It wasn't until the sky gradually darkened that the other party finally relented. "I suppose you wouldn't dare cause trouble in Minglun Hall. Come with me."

Upon hearing this, Zhuge Yuan was delighted. Regardless, getting inside was the first priority.

He had expected the main gate behind them to open, but unexpectedly, the old man walked towards a small side door. "What is your status? You expect to use the main entrance of Minglun Hall? This way."

"Minglun Hall certainly has a lot of rules," Zhuge Yuan mused to himself as he followed the old man towards the side entrance.

By the time they entered the gate, the sky outside had already grown dark. The buildings near the entrance were quite dim, making it difficult for Zhuge Yuan to see clearly, though he could sense that the distant structures were layered endlessly.

Following the old man, Zhuge Yuan stepped into a blue-tiled covered walkway, heading deeper into the compound.

As they walked, the surroundings brightened. The light came from square white lanterns hanging on both sides of the covered walkway, each adorned with poems and songs written in various calligraphic styles.

Zhuge Yuan had learned some of the poems from his Master, but others he had never seen, and he found himself staring at them, captivated.

When he came to his senses again, he found himself with the old man in front of a two-story, exquisite private courtyard.

"Follow me. Don't look at what you shouldn't, and don't say what you shouldn't," the old man said coldly, then stepped over the threshold and entered.

Walking through the small garden, Zhuge Yuan saw in the main hall a handsome young man writing something with a brush in one hand, grinding ink with another, and fanning himself with yet another hand.

His lips curled slightly upward. His face had soft features, and his skin was fair. If not for his scholar's attire and blue robes, Zhuge Yuan might have mistaken him for a woman.

"Wait, three hands?" Zhuge Yuan couldn't help but feel excited.

Before he could enthusiastically approach to chat, the old man spoke again.

"Yuting, prepare the planchette. Let's find out this boy's true background."

After saying this to the young man, the old man turned to Zhuge Yuan. "If he's lying, then he won't be leaving once he's entered!"

No sooner had he spoken than the square white lanterns outside extinguished one by one, from a distance to nearby, plunging the outdoor environment into instant darkness.

This sight made Zhuge Yuan a bit nervous. He couldn't help but quietly reach into the bamboo basket on his back and grip his self-defense weapon.

"Master wouldn't trick me like this, would he? I just came to study; why is the situation so grand?"

But the old man at that moment had no interest in what Zhuge Yuan was saying. With a single slap of his hand on the tabletop, a Y-shaped peach wood branch with two prongs, sitting in the brush stand, was directly jolted upward.

Before the branch could fall, he and the young man named Yuting each grabbed one end, suspending the branch in mid-air above the writing desk.

The suspended branch suddenly slid, and the ink from the characters written on the calligraphy paper quickly drained from the paper, seeping into one end of the branch.

As it absorbed the ink, the peach wood branch surprisingly began to sprout new buds. And as the new buds grew, the ink absorbed within the branch began to transform from black to a ghastly green.

The light inside the room flickered, as if the single light source wanted to split into several. Moreover, as another hand extended from beneath the old man's armpit, the room became terrifying.

"Rise!" Both men simultaneously switched hands, each using their extra hand to grasp the peach wood branch and shake it.

But soon, the peach wood seemed to break free from their control, trembling as it descended onto a blank sheet of Xuan paper and began to write.

"Even chickens and dogs here are immortals; truly, this Peach Blossom Spring is a heaven of its own. It feels as if the spring breeze is deliberate, green willows picturesque, and catkins like mist."

The writing stopped, and the chaotic lights extinguished. The moment it finished writing, everything around them fell silent, save for Zhuge Yuan's somewhat frantic breathing, rising and falling in the room.

He lifted his sleeve to wipe his forehead, only then realizing that his forehead was covered in cold sweat.

"Honored elders, I truly didn't lie. My Master genuinely is an old friend of Wang Changxu. Even if not, at most I've just come to the wrong door." Zhuge Yuan tried hard to explain.

"Hmph," the old man wanted to say something more, but he was interrupted by the other person.

"Oh, come now, it's fine, it's fine. Since Elder Wang Changxu's spirit writing says this person is harmless, then he's probably fine. Martial Uncle, please read the characters." The young man named Yuting spoke for the first time.

His voice wasn't as soft as his appearance suggested; instead, it was remarkably clear and cheerful.

The old man and the young man murmured to each other around the green characters, completely ignoring Zhuge Yuan.

"Did I really not come to the wrong place? Is this what Master meant? Why does it feel so off?" Zhuge Yuan wondered silently, looking at the lights outside that had mysteriously turned back on.

"It should be right, shouldn't it? They both have three hands." But when Zhuge Yuan looked again, he found that their extra hands had vanished.

Grumbling to himself, Zhuge Yuan paced slowly around the room, examining the strange rocks on the bamboo cabinet and the paintings on the wall. This was quite different from the grand ambitions he had held when he left the village.

"Yuting, you keep an eye on this boy tonight. I'll go consult with Master." As the old man waved his sleeve over the green characters, the four lines of green script floated off the Xuan paper and settled into his cuff.

The old man seemed to have no interest in Zhuge Yuan, walking coldly out of the room.

Zhuge Yuan started to speak but stopped. He turned to the young man named Yuting and bowed helplessly. "Perhaps you could open the door and let me out? I'll go look around some more."

"Oh, no worries, no worries. Uncle Sigong is just like that." Compared to the old man's demeanor, the young man named Yuting was much more easygoing. "You can stay here tonight. We'll talk tomorrow. By the way, young man, what's your name?"

"My name is Zhuge Yuan. My Master gave it to me the day he found me."

"Pleased to meet you, little brother Zhuge. My name is Li Jinshu, courtesy name Yuting. Don't worry, Elder Wang Changxu is a great Confucian scholar, and his prestige must be respected. You can enroll tomorrow, and from now on, you'll also be a disciple of Minglun Hall."

As Zhuge Yuan chatted casually with the young man named Li Jinshu, the apprehension in his heart gradually subsided.

It seemed he truly hadn't come to the wrong place; it was just that the old man earlier was unusually harsh.

After chatting for a while longer, Zhuge Yuan, tired from a day of travel, asked Li Jinshu for directions to his quarters and prepared to get some good rest.

As Zhuge Yuan was about to leave, Li Jinshu began to write again.

Reaching the doorway, Zhuge Yuan curiously glanced over from afar: "Pink butterflies flutter their wings, trembling the calyx; dragonflies skim the water, scenting the blossom chambers."

"Uh..."