After returning ho and finishing his al, Chen Yi opened the dressing cabinet in his bedroom and placed a small box inside.
Yin Tingxue, holding a book and reading, noticed the fine craftsmanship of this sandalwood box, with phoenix and orchid carvings on top, and couldn’t help but grow curious.
"What’s inside?"
She asked.
"A hairpin."
Chen Yi responded crisply and decisively.
Yin Tingxue tilted her head, puzzled as to why he suddenly bought a hairpin.
She didn’t believe the hairpin was for her. Won often marry by fifteen, and there’s a tradition to wear hairpins and receive their styled nas. She, though taken as a concubine, had never consummated the relationship and might never do so.
She thought, she hadn’t yet turned twenty either, so she couldn’t wear a hairpin nor claim a styled na.
Chen Yi glanced at the Lady of Xiang River briefly and smiled, closing the cabinet. Speaking of which, she hadn’t yet adopted a styled na, so she was technically still unwed.
For so reason, Yin Tingxue felt that this fleeting smile carried ulterior motives.
She turned her face away, avoiding his gaze, silently shifting her sight to the direction of Yintai Temple outside the door.
In that mont, she recalled the fine snow of late autumn and early winter at Yintai Temple.
She was born during that season. Her mother said she cried loudly amidst the sound of falling snow.
Her mother always remarked that the falling snow carried a sense of Zen, which was why she was given the na "Tingxue" (Listening to Snow).
Speaking of which, what does the sound of falling snow truly resemble? What, indeed, is the sound of flowers scattering in the breeze?
Yin Tingxue’s thoughts drifted.
Chen Yi glanced at the panel, realizing he still lacked five years of True Qi for the designated day to arrive.
He casually patted Yin Tingxue’s head before casting his eyes at the book in her hands.
It wasn’t so random novel but the very "Purple Herb Pill Appraisal" he had managed to wrest from Yin Weiyin.
She was actually reading such a book. Chen Yi shook his head and chuckled to himself, then sat cross-legged on the bed, silently reciting the Shangqing Heart thod, beginning to circulate his cultivation internally.
Clearing his thoughts, free of distractions, Chen Yi directed his True Qi down into his Dantian, unblocking the acu-points throughout his body, and sought to establish a resonance with the Primordial Qi between heaven and earth.
A sharp pain surged upward.
Chen Yi hissed, feeling an agonizing burn deep within his bones.
This pain stemd from the rare poison within his system—sothing Chen Yi was all too aware of. In Taoist cultivation, the further one progressed, the greater the hurdles posed by such poisons.
Suppressing the agony, he worked hard to empty his mind and continued sensing the Primordial Qi.
Taoist cultivation fundantally relied on the unity of man and nature. Its thodology centered on continually sensing innate Primordial Qi, gathering it into the body’s acu-points, then expelling it back into the world. Primordial Qi gathered brings life; scattered, it leads to death. By harmonizing Qi, one achieves balance. For accomplished practitioners, their Qi flows like an unending river.
Warmth erged in his Dantian, like relentless tides, surging endlessly. Chen Yi’s thoughts wandered erratically, floating high and low, giving rise to faint monts of transcendence—a feeling of detachnt from worldly concerns.
He snapped back to reality, finding it was now deep into the night.
Chen Yi wiped the sweat from his neck, looking down to discover Yin Tingxue was already fast asleep.
This resonance had taken him two to three hours.
As for the results...
Chen Yi held his breath and focused, silently reciting his ntal thod. He found his perception had slightly slowed by about half a second.
"The results are diocre; perhaps it’s because I’m fundantally a martial artist,"
Chen Yi muttered.
For martial artists, True Qi coursed through their ridians, accumulating in their acu-points, often occupying the channels ant for Qi.
Therefore, aside from schools like Yin Sword Mountain, which rare specialized in Taoist and Martial Dual Cultivation, most practitioners either pursued Taoism or martial arts singularly.
"I still need to learn Yin Sword Mountain’s Taoist thod."
Chen Yi mused aloud,
"If mory serves, encountering her only happens after obtaining Slay Evil Jiao..."
He recalled accurately that during this major plotline centered around the Praying Place, three great demons and ghosts circled the Capital City. Ghost General Deng Ai was one, followed by the rumored donkey-headed Crown Prince, son of Wu Zetian, and lastly the Foe-King lineage Dragon, protector of the Buddhist Sect.
To navigate the Praying Place perfectly, one would need to eliminate both the latter two entities, as well as the Ancestor of Fox Demons appearing on the final day.
Resolving Demon Extermination Day would also win further trust from the Empress Dowager, lifting the poison plaguing him.
No matter the case... eting Zhou Yitang was crucial.
After all, she wouldn’t rember the matters of her past life.
This lifeti... he would treat her better.
............
The Praying Place had entered its fifth day, with nurous Daoists from Shangqing Temple and Yin Sword Mountain arriving in the Capital City. Besides them, various wild cultivators had also flocked to Great Yu’s capital. For a while, incense burned fervently at three temples and seven Daoist observatories, resembling a grand Taoist festival.
Yuxiu Manor had been bustling during these days.
The Ding’an Party, long regarded as incorruptible paragons, often received admiration and praise from scholars and literati. As the Scenic Prince Mansion’s property, Yuxiu Manor naturally beca a haven for cultured elites.
In Great Yu, Taoism had always been esteed above Buddhism. Since its founding by the first Emperor, Taoist temples had sprung up across the land like bamboo shoots after rain, each bearing centuries of heritage. As long as Great Yu endured, they would, too.
This atmosphere had steeped Great Yu’s literati into favoring taphysical cultivation even more. Although Confucianism was a worldly philosophy, since Dong Zhongshu, it heavily emphasized the connection between heaven and man, while apocryphal texts had flourished from the Zhou Dynasty onward. By now, Great Yu’s scholars held ghostly and divine phenonon in vast regard, reminiscent of the ethos of Wei-Jin.
To thrive amid the scholarly favor, Yuxiu Manor had funded a cadre of Taoist practitioners to teach alchemy and cultivation techniques.
However, Yuxiu Manor’s prominence wasn’t solely owed to scholarly endorsents. Ink graced its pens, but blood marked its blades. Yuxiu Manor had grown from being the second-ranked Yuxiu Martial Arts School in the Capital, with experts who wielded astonishing mastery. Its elder son, Feng Luo, was even hailed as an exceptional young talent in the city.
The autumn breeze was brisk. With the poetry gathering yet to comnce, shadows outside Yuxiu Manor were sparse. Only so disciples and guards patrolled near the gates.
Within the manor, Master Feng Ying sipped tea, occasionally tossing pieces of dried at from a jade plate to the black-haired wolfhound at his feet.
His son, Feng Luo, sat beside him, holding a sword, resting his eyes, pondering martial arts.
"Master, the ssage has been delivered. That man nad Min Ning hasn’t made any moves; he must be scared."
The housekeeper said respectfully from a distance.
"I expected this. The Chancellor’s case is a major and old one, conclusive even during the late Emperor’s reign. Even the Lin Party wouldn’t dare tread its grounds. He’s rely a minor officer—what does he amount to?"
Master Feng Ying said calmly.
His son, Feng Luo, opened one eye and remarked:
"Father, I’ve heard of him. He holds so renown in the Capital, his martial arts talent perhaps even rivaling the forr Garrison Commander Min."
"Luo’er, let remind you that the late Commander Min died over this case. If this man dares push further, his entire family across three generations may perish, extinguishing their line. Young and reckless, unable to discern what’s worth investigating—such n court death."
Master Feng Ying sneered.
"Master and Young Master speak truly. Wearing a brocade guard uniform, he fancies himself an official. But what kind of officials has the Master not seen? Such minor ones can’t even step through Yuxiu Manor’s halls."
The housekeeper flattered effusively.
Master Feng Ying laughed heartily, drained his tea, and threw the remaining at down to the wolfhound, which eagerly devoured it and barked joyfully twice.
"That reminds , how is the latest batch of goods?"
"Master, the last batch of Immortal Pills and powders sold beautifully. The current shipnt is sizable, now docked at the port, being unloaded and transported to the estate."
"Already being brought in? Excellent, excellent. Now then,"
Master Feng Ying turned his gaze to his son,
"Luo’er, you say this Min is sowhat famous. How does his skill stack against yours?"
Feng Luo smiled slightly; there was no need for modesty between father and son, so he boasted:
"I am the disciple of the Xique Pavilion Master; he is without lineage. No matter how exceptional his skill, it is nothing special."
Yuxiu Manor sat on the Capital’s western outskirts, spacious, surrounded by mountains and rivers, blessed with natural beauty. Now deep in autumn, the grounds were strewn with fallen crimson leaves, creating a tapestry visible even from afar.
Outside the main gate, two guards of the Brocade Guard appeared. One followed closely behind the other, leading his horse.
The thousand-household captain rode atop a tall horse, long blade at his waist, as the dried leaves cracked beneath his hooves.
The few guards at their posts quickly beca alert, with the leader stepping forward, raising his spear to block the two n.
"Who are you? Approaching Yuxiu Manor ard? Whosoever you may be, you are not to disturb this estate!"
The captain didn’t dismount, sweeping his gaze over the assembled guards from his elevated position before glancing at Yuxiu Manor. Only when the leader spoke again did he give the latter his attention.
"Approaching Yuxiu Manor ard—why?"
"There’s a dog barking inside. Go deal with it."
The captain said coolly.
The guard leader asked bewilderedly:
"What does barking inside have to—"
The thousand-household captain pressed his long, slender fingers onto his sword’s hilt and replied with a teasing smile:
"What does carrying a weapon have to do with you?!"
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