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***
Today, the Princess Consort left the city to enjoy the scenery. Prince Zhao Xun, the heir apparent to the Prince of Jing'an, personally escorted her to Xiangfan City Gate, then ascended the Fishing Platform to watch her carriage disappear into the distance. Only then, taking just one attendant, he took a circuitous route to the private residence where his mistress was kept. Inside this private residence, besides the "canary," there was only one maid and two old wet nurses; no other idle personnel, and certainly no men. As Zhao Xun pushed the door open, he immediately felt refreshed and at ease. This place was far less grand and imposing than the Prince of Jing'an's mansion, being only a two-courtyard dwelling. Yet, in the Prince's eyes, it was a long-sought-after paradise on Earth. That strictly regulated princely mansion, the Buddhist hall dedicated to Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva – every flower, every blade of grass, every brick and tile – exuded a suffocating aura of gloom that became increasingly unbearable to him as he grew older. That closest relative, his father, was so deeply scheming that even Zhao Xun, his son, dared not try to fathom him. Zhao Xun resented why this man hadn't brutally seized the throne and donned the imperial robes back then. He even feared the silent figure of this man as he recited Buddhist scriptures, turned prayer beads, and observed a vegetarian diet. But what most tormented the Prince was why this man had married her, only to show no affection once she was wed. Their marital relationship was as cold as ice, at times even like two soldiers facing each other – a monumental irony.
Zhao Xun took a deep breath, savoring the unique fresh air of the small courtyard, which was filled with orchids – her favorite flowers. This woman, who was a Princess Consort yet was treated worse than a prostitute from Xiangguo Lane, had only two opportunities a year to leave the city, both to visit the expansive reed marsh. In spring, she would observe the tender green shoots, and in autumn, the old reeds swaying like flying snow in the wind. Pei Nanwei, Pei Nanwei – was it simply because her name contained the character 'wei' (reed) that she loved to watch those most uninteresting, tedious, scattered, and fragile reeds?
The woman, kept by the Prince in the courtyard like a pet, had been stripped of her name from the very first day she arrived. Zhao Xun certainly enjoyed her body, which was like warm mutton-fat jade, exuding a comforting warmth in winter and coolness in summer when held. But what truly obsessed and maddened him was her demeanor. Just like now, when Zhao Xun, upon seeing her, respectfully said, "Xun'er has come to pay his respects," she merely gave a slight, haughty snort, and Zhao Xun's bones immediately felt several ounces lighter – it was so alike. Zhao Xun revealed a cruel sneer and cursed, "You son of a bitch, Pei Nanwei, daring to feign purity before me, your Prince!" Then, without another word, he rushed forward, tore off her clothes – which were identical to Pei Nanwei's – carried her to the large bed in the inner chambers, and mercilessly whipped her. Afterward, Zhao Xun returned to normal, lying on the bed, squinting in pleasure as the 'fake Princess' massaged his shoulders. He regretfully remarked, "Your skin and figure are still a bit off. Your speaking voice is almost indistinguishable, but once we're in bed, there's still something lacking. Pay more attention next time. If you expose yourself like this during my next visit..."
The woman sitting on the bed responded with a delicate, nasal "Hmm." Zhao Xun glanced up, then grabbed a handful of her smooth dark hair, pressing her head into his lap. He said with a dark, violent tone, "My good 'Wei'er, I've been driven mad thinking of your little mouth!"
After two rounds of physical pleasure, Zhao Xun donned an outer robe and lay directly on the sandalwood floor beneath the eaves outside the room, quietly gazing at a string of wind chimes that remained still in the absence of wind. At this moment, the Prince of Jing'an's heir truly seemed like a gentle, amiable young master, detached from worldly strife, harmless to others, and refined in demeanor. The 'fake Princess' knelt beside Zhao Xun, accompanying this madman as he watched the wind chimes. In fact, when Zhao Xun was quiet and silent, he was a rather approachable young man. Seeing him lost in thought, she finally had a chance to examine his handsome face, which was said to resemble the Prince of Jing'an by ninety percent. Zhao Xun stared at the elegant wind chimes, strung with pieces of shattered jade, and softly chuckled, "Are they beautiful? She would never look at me like this in her lifetime. She doesn't even think much of my father, let alone me, a Prince who doesn't even have a guaranteed hereditary title."
The Prince of Jing'an's heir closed his eyes and murmured, "I truly envy those common folk."
Zhao Xun left, but before he did, he slapped her, claiming it was because she had stolen a few glances at him from under the eaves. With one cheek swollen and red, the 'fake Princess' carefully lay down where the Prince had been, without a trace of resentment. Like him, she looked up at the wind chimes. As the wind blew, the bells chimed, ethereal and pleasant to the ear. Suddenly, she sat up and looked towards an old man who had, unnoticed, seated himself on the railing. She was filled with profound reverence. The Prince of Jing'an's heir had astonished her with his celestial appearance. Upon first entering the small courtyard, she had been frequently whipped. The slightest misstep would earn her a stinging slap, and in bed, she endured all manner of humiliation. Yet, she feared none of these things. Sometimes, late at night, holding the sobbing Prince, she would even feel a sense of sorrow. Only the old man before her, who had never once laid a hand on her, instilled fear deep into her bones.
The old man, who had been elusive for years, quietly asked, "Have you fallen for this pathetic creature born into a princely family?"
The 'fake Princess' prostrated herself on the ground, her delicate body trembling.
The old man chuckled lightly, "It's alright. Zhao Xun isn't a fool either. If you don't show a bit of genuine affection, he'll eventually grow tired of you."
Kneeling on the ground, she finally managed to catch her breath and looked up with a puzzled expression at the old man, who seemed to her half-celestial, half-demonic. He was like a divine being because his calculations were flawless; almost every move Zhao Xun made was within the old man's predictions. Yet, the more she realized this, the more terrifying she found him. She had originally mimicked Princess Pei even more accurately, but the old man had not allowed it, only permitting her to be a little more skilled with each performance. Reflecting now, she finally understood that if she had been perfect from the start, the Prince of Jing'an's heir would not have enjoyed coming here so often. Was the old man's skill at manipulating people truly masterly? What kind of person would scheme so meticulously against a feudal prince?
The old man looked at the string of shattered jade wind chimes. He had asked the 'fake Princess' to hang them, and indeed, Zhao Xun liked them immensely, more than anyone could imagine.
The old man softly chuckled, "Hollow I am, above, below, left, and right; no matter the wind, from east, west, north, or south, I always speak of Prajna, ding-ding-dong-dong, ding-ding-dong."
The 'fake Princess' dared not speak.
The old man stood up and smiled, "Whether your luck and that poor fool's luck will be good or bad depends on today. It's a pity you can't see it."
Before the old man left with his hands behind his back, he calmly uttered a prophetic remark, "Should you ever face the furious Prince of Jing'an, make sure to speak well of Zhao Xun, even if it means risking your life. This might save you."
The 'fake Princess'' face was blank.
The wind rose again, and the chimes rang once more.
Ding-ding-dong-dong, ding-ding-dong.
Gone was the ethereal quality; only a killing aura remained.
***
Wudang Mountain was abuzz with activity, all because some bastard had arrived.
It was tolerable that this scoundrel came from Longhu Mountain, but he even dared to fight fiercely with the young Martial Uncle-Grandmaster, who had become the widely acclaimed sect leader. Well, did he get beaten? Dozens of large and small Daoists in the temples and monasteries on the mountain were discussing this. The older ones were relatively worried, as that fellow was after all "Little Lu Zu" on the martial arts rankings, one of Longhu Mountain's three "Young Celestial Masters," Qi Xianxia, whose transcendent swordplay cultivation was no mere boast. The younger Daoist novices, however, couldn't help but jump around and curse, wishing they could roll up their sleeves and fight "Little Lu Zu," who was temporarily residing in the bamboo hut on Great Lotus Peak. The young Daoists, after all, hadn't witnessed the immortal grandeur of Qi Xianxia wielding his whisk as a sword to cleave purple bamboo. Actually, only the sect leader, who rode an ox, was watching nearby. His original intention was to lend a hand and fulfill his duty as host, but the Young Celestial Master didn't appreciate it. In that battle outside the hall, the young sect leader snatched the whisk with one hand, and then Qi Xianxia's sword energy caused a statue of Emperor Zhenwu to sway for half a day. A thousand-year-old camphor tree was completely uprooted by "Little Lu Zu." If the young sect leader hadn't casually picked up a thousand-jin incense burner to block a few strikes, his brand new Daoist robe would have been ruined. Several of the sect leader's elder martial brothers heard the commotion and rushed over, watching from outside the gate with great enthusiasm. They felt no pity for the uprooted camphor tree or the damaged incense burner, nearly cheering and whispering to each other, focused only on critiquing the merits of the combatants' moves.
In front of the bamboo hut, Qi Xianxia sat on a green rush mat, practicing breathing exercises. Not far away, a young Daoist, holding a handful of cow grass, fed an ox. He said somewhat awkwardly, "Those few senior martial brothers of mine are indeed a bit out of line. Their conduct as masters doesn't compare to your Longhu Celestial Master Mansion. My brothers are used to seeing me make a fool of myself, so please forgive them."
Qi Xianxia truly couldn't be bothered with this persistent fellow.
The young Daoist, who had grown up riding an ox, chuckled, "Are you really planning to stay on Wudang Mountain? The ancient sword of Lu Zu, hanging under the eaves of the Grand Geng corner of the Supreme Emptiness Palace – if you truly want it, just take it. I'll pretend I didn't see anything. Anyway, ever since I was a child, I've felt that sword was too pitiful; it's best if someone uses it."
Qi Xianxia opened his eyes and glared, saying angrily, "How can a relic of Lu Zu be treated as child's play!"
The young Martial Uncle-Grandmaster said helplessly, "But it's also not right for you to keep challenging me to fights."
Qi Xianxia sneered, "I can only descend the mountain once a victor has been decided."
The young Martial Uncle-Grandmaster patted the back of the large green ox and quietly mumbled, "His magnanimity is even less than Xu Fengnian's."
The white-tailed whisk in front of Qi Xianxia suddenly twitched.
Hong Xixiang said with a wry face, "I'm afraid of you. You Longhu Mountain practitioners really don't seem like Daoists; where does all this competitiveness come from?"
Qi Xianxia scoffed, "If you Wudang Mountain practitioners had no desire to win, why did you erect the 'Xuanwu is Prospering' archway at the foot of the mountain?"
Hong Xixiang laughed, "It looks impressive, doesn't it? And it's Lu Zu's calligraphy – how rare!"
Qi Xianxia snorted coldly. Trying to reason with this Daoist in a serious manner was truly like playing a lute to an ox.
Hong Xixiang quietly said, "To learn the Dao, one must be utterly poor, with only a few coins in one's purse. This is an admonishing proverb left by Lu Zu. Now look at your Longhu Mountain; Huang Sanjia once joked that you should have millions of coins in your purses."
Upon hearing this, Qi Xianxia surprisingly became neither angry nor annoyed.
From time to time, interesting colloquialisms circulate among the martial arts world and the imperial court. Often, they're vivid examples of scholars using vulgar language and brutes speaking refined phrases. Huang Longshi's jab at the Celestial Master Mansion, implying they cultivate Dao but not their hearts, is one such example. This time, when Prince Xu Xiao of Beiliang entered the capital for an audience with the Emperor, he severely beat a third-rank official outside the palace after court was dismissed, roaring, "If you weren't carrying a bird in your trousers and missing two lumps of flesh on your chest, you'd truly be a woman!" The current Grand Libationer of Shangyin Academy also has a famous saying that spread across the land, which he used in his youth to tease an esteemed senior Confucian scholar from Jiangnan: "Nothing tastes better than dumplings, nothing's more fun than your sister-in-law." A swordsman from the Kongtong Sect, who was once besieging a demonic leader with fellow martial artists, became fearful before the enemy. In utter desperation, he found a clumsy excuse, saying, "I just heard my wife is pregnant, so I'm heading back." It was truly hilarious.
Hong Xixiang, leading the large green ox, said before leaving, "You can stay if you wish. Perhaps in the future, you can descend the mountain with me. With a companion, I'll be a bit bolder." After walking a few steps, the sect leader turned back and shamelessly chuckled, "Hey, hey, don't be so stingy. Tell me about Hutun Prefecture."
Qi Xianxia reached out to grab his horsehair whisk.
Hong Xixiang mounted the ox and rode off.
The usually humorless Qi Xianxia actually let a corner of his mouth curl up.
The tension instantly vanished.
This is Wudang Mountain.
No matter who comes, they are met with harmony.
Harmony begets celestial aura.
***
Liangchan Temple.
Two women ascended the mountain. Along the way, monks greeted them. Some of the younger monks, lacking self-control, would turn their backs to the abbots and secretly make faces and snicker at a little girl.
The little girl, however, didn't bother to respond. Bald heads, bald heads, everywhere you look, nothing but bald heads! Who wants to see that!
"Mom, please let me go down the mountain. It's so boring here, always looking at Dad and 'Silly Nanbei' – two big bald heads."
"Daughter, bald heads are great, you don't even need to light a lamp at night."
"Mom, don't make me laugh; it's not ladylike!"
"Who's joking? I'm earnestly telling you a profound truth. Otherwise, with my stunning looks, do you think I would have taken to your father?"
"Mom, the women down the mountain are much prettier than you. I really don't know why Dad decided to spend his life with you."
"You impudent girl, would you exist without your mother? And besides, honestly, put your hand on your chest and tell me, is your mother not beautiful?!"
"Sigh, daughter, when you're older, you'll understand that as long as you're beautiful in one man's heart, you're the most beautiful girl in the world."
"Huh? But Xu Fengnian said I look ordinary! Oh no!"
"My daughter has truly grown up, and I'm very pleased. Daughter, am I really not beautiful? No, I must go down the mountain again and buy some more rouge and powder. A little more on my face will make me pretty."
"Mom, you're wasting money again. Dad will definitely go to the corner with 'Silly Nanbei' to nag. They're so annoying when they drone on and on together."
"Let them nag. It would be worse if they didn't."
These mother and daughter, they seemed quite worldly.
It was fortunate that the bald-headed men who admired them both were so Buddhist in their demeanor.
***
Thirty li outside Xiangfan City, that vast, boundless, and vibrant reed marsh, for some unknown reason, had lost its vitality today.
In the central area, a wealthy young master sat on the "Heavenly Waves Reflecting Like a Mirror" archway within the reed marsh, with four red-armored talismanic generals beneath his feet.
To the northeast stood a robust middle-aged man, unremarkable in appearance, like a farmer, with a bundle of golden-yellow soft swords wrapped around his waist. It was said that there was a master in the world who had ranked eleventh in two consecutive martial arts ratings. He was proficient in all eighteen types of weaponry, including sabers, swords, spears, and lances, and had dabbled in all three religions—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—and all walks of life. He was so intelligent and versatile that he didn't know which weapon to choose, so he ended up with a soft sword which, when imbued with internal energy, could function as a saber, a spear, or an arrow.
To the southwest, a man in a green robe slowly approached, carrying a bamboo pole on his shoulders with both hands.
Suddenly, hoofbeats sounded.
Thousands of birds soared up from the reed marsh.
The old man, who had trained both the 'fake Princess' and Li Shuangjia, acquired a pot of coarse rice wine from a fishing family at the edge of the reed marsh. He squinted, listening to the sound of husking rice, took a sip of wine, and muttered to himself, "This truly is a good place for dead men."
[19 seconds from now] Chapter 499
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[1 minute ago] Chapter 184: Returned a Fart
[6 minutes ago] Chapter 150: Abandoned Pawn
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