Chapter 38.1
In the Fanjiang Ju courtyard, the damaged evening mist flowers had all been removed by Wen Liubing, and new seeds had been sown, waiting to sprout.
Shen Guorong sat on a stone bench, holding a bamboo flute and tapping his palm absentmindedly with it.
Across from him, Wen Liubing sat with his back straight, gripping his brush and frowning as he wrote furiously at the stone table. Nearby, Mu Zhe and Yu Xinghe sat obediently with spiritual fruits that Su Xiyan had sent yesterday placed before them, occasionally taking careful bites.
Shen Guorong glanced at him sideways and said coolly, “How many times now?”
Before Wen Liubing could answer, Yu Xinghe raised his little hand high, speaking up for his senior brother: “Reporting to Master, fifty-seven times!”
Wen Liubing frowned: “Nonsense, you miscounted by a hundred.”
Shen Guorong looked at him: “Lying again? Hold out your hand.”
Wen Liubing reluctantly extended his hand, and Shen Guorong struck it hard with the bamboo flute.
The sharp crack made the two little ones beside them jump in fright.
Sword cultivators were thick-skinned, so being hit once didn’t hurt Wen Liubing much. From his expression, it seemed he’d rather take a few more hits than continue copying those wretched characters.
Wen Liubing did exactly what he was thinking, saying seriously to his master: “Master, let me go to the Discipline Hall for a whipping instead. I really don’t want to copy anymore.”
Shen Guorong: “…”
He’d never seen anyone so eager to get beaten.
Shen Guorong tapped his shoulder with the flute: “Straighten your back and keep copying. Do you lack this same perseverance when practicing swordwork?”
Wen Liubing said solemnly: “I can swing my sword ten thousand times daily without complaint.”
Shen Guorong scolded him: “Then why can’t you copy two thousand passages properly?! Aren’t you embarrassed in front of your junior brothers?”
Wen Liubing was horrified: “Master, wasn’t it nine hundred times?”
“You made your junior brother help you copy, so it’s doubled.”
San Shui looked as if the world had ended.
Yu Xinghe and Mu Zhe sat to the side eating fruit, watching their senior brother sweat profusely while copying, feeling oddly satisfied.
Seeing that Wen Liubing had resumed copying, Shen Guorong turned his attention to Mu Zhe and Yu Xinghe, his voice immediately softening.
“What did you learn in morning lessons today? Was there anything difficult to understand?”
Yu Xinghe quickly raised his little hand. He never missed an opportunity to speak with his master, and would create opportunities even when none existed.
Today’s morning lesson was Lou Bugui’s herb class. Yu Xinghe said: “Uncle Lou taught us about a ‘Soul Separation’ formula today, saying even Great Vehicle stage masters could easily separate soul from body. Master, what would happen if the soul were separated from the body?”
Shen Guorong’s face stiffened, thinking expressionlessly: The consequence is being dazed for two days.
Mu Zhe lowered his head to hide the laughter in his eyes.
Shen Guorong didn’t answer that question, instead raising an eyebrow slightly: “Your Uncle Lou is teaching you poisons again?”
Yu Xinghe blinked: “Yes.”
Shen Guorong said: “Don’t attend his classes anymore.”
Yu Xinghe was startled and said timidly: “But if we don’t attend morning lessons, the Sect Leader will scold us.”
Shen Guorong thought for a moment: “I’ll speak with him.”
Yu Xinghe quickly nodded.
As they were talking, Wen Liubing began growing restless and agitated again.
Strangely, while Wen Liubing had the patience and perseverance to swing his sword ten thousand times daily, he had no patience whatsoever for simple copying. After copying several times, his characters would practically fly off the page. His “和” (harmony) looked forcefully like “杀” (kill).
Seeing that he could barely sit still, Shen Guorong picked up the bamboo flute and said: “Since you can’t calm your mind, let Master play a tune to settle your spirit.”
Mu Zhe: “…”
Mu Zhe immediately moved to jump down from the stone bench to take his leave, but his master didn’t give him the chance. San Shui and Yu Xinghe both looked expectant.
Mu Zhe closed his eyes in despair, wishing he could close his ears too.
Shen Guorong tentatively brought the bamboo flute to his lips.
A moment later, Wen Liubing sat with a blank expression, his face clearly asking “who am I, where am I, what am I doing?”
Yu Xinghe was a complete little fool who, like his master, was tone-deaf and couldn’t even remember the flute’s name. He clapped joyfully: “Master’s bamboo… bamboo flute sounds heavenly!”
Mu Zhe: “…”
San Shui: “…”
Shen Guorong had practiced secretly before and thought he was ready to perform publicly after feeling he could manage it. Seeing Yu Xinghe’s enthusiastic praise, he felt a bit embarrassed.
But his bashfulness only lasted a moment. Soon, Shen Guorong’s confidence soared.
I really do have talent. I’ll go find Senior Brother later, Shen Guorong thought happily. I’ll have him replace Tenth Senior Brother’s poison class with my music class.
Mu Zhe: “…”
Mu Zhe’s pupils dilated in shock.
Under Shen Guorong’s torturous music, Wen Liubing’s brush flew across the paper, completing the two thousand repetitions that normally took a full day in just half a day.
Shen Guorong had even taken a nap beside him. Glancing at the dragon-like scrawl, he grudgingly accepted it as passing.
Wen Liubing fled in panic, never wanting to touch a brush again in his life.
But before he’d gotten far, he heard his master say: “Starting today, San Shui will attend morning lessons daily.”
Wen Liubing turned back in horror.
Shen Guorong looked at his writing with disgust: “Your characters are too ugly. Even your junior brother writes better than you. San Shui, did you hear?”
Wen Liubing couldn’t hear and ran off.
The spiritual fruits had been finished, and Mu Zhe was quietly cleaning the table.
Yu Xinghe thought his master was praising him and looked at Shen Guorong expectantly.
Seeing his gaze, Shen Guorong patted Yu Xinghe’s little head: “Xinghe, with diligent study and practice, I’m sure you’ll soon master good calligraphy.”
Yu Xinghe was startled, realizing his master wasn’t praising him. He pursed his lips grievously and nodded: “Yes.”
Mu Zhe stood to the side, seemingly indifferent to Shen Guorong’s criticism and praise, but in a corner no one noticed, his hands hanging in his sleeves were clenched tightly, his knuckles somewhat pale.
Shen Guorong looked at the sky: “It’s getting late. You should all return now.”
Yu Xinghe nodded and went back somewhat dejectedly.
After Mu Zhe finished tidying the fruit pits and bowed to leave, Shen Guorong suddenly called out to him.
“Mu Zhe.”
Mu Zhe stopped and turned back.
Shen Guorong asked the question he’d been pondering all day: “Do you still want to continue cultivating in the future?”
Mu Zhe seemed unprepared for this question, freezing in place with confusion flickering across his face.
Since entering Li Ren Peak, his life had always been arranged by others. Even if he had objections, he couldn’t make a splash. This was the first time in over a year that Shen Guorong had asked for his own wishes.
Mu Zhe murmured: “What if I don’t want to?”
Shen Guorong said: “If you don’t want to, then stay peacefully on Li Ren Peak until you come of age, and I’ll send you to the mortal world then.”
What Mu Zhe had always wanted was to leave Li Ren Peak and live out his life peacefully as an ordinary person.
Shen Fengxue had saved his life and given him a place to shelter, and for this he was grateful. But when Shen Fengxue forced him to cultivate against his will, causing him countless sufferings, resentment filled Mu Zhe’s still-immature heart.
However, after just these few days, when Mu Zhe desperately tried to recall his previous hatred for his master, he couldn’t remember it at all.
Those bone-deep painful memories seemed to have vanished without a trace, replaced by the scene of him in the fire all those years ago.
Surrounded by the searing heat of near-death, in his despair, Shen Fengxue in green robes descended like an immortal, rushing into the flames without regard for anything to embrace his filthy form.
When Shen Fengxue held him, both arms trembled slightly. Mu Zhe initially thought it was from compassion at seeing a child being burned, but later learned that his master was simply afraid of fire.
Mu Zhe had wondered countless times: if he was afraid of fire, why did he rush in to save me?
This single thought allowed him to maintain a thread of clarity through over a year of painful struggle, preventing him from becoming gloomy and turning against his master.
Now, when Shen Guorong gently told him he didn’t need to cultivate or suffer, that he could peacefully live out a mortal’s natural lifespan in the mortal world, Mu Zhe felt no joy.
Seeing him freeze, Shen Guorong asked puzzledly: “Mu Zhe?”
Mu Zhe startled back to awareness, looking at Shen Guorong with complex emotions.
Shen Guorong encouraged him: “It’s fine, follow your heart. Whether you want to stay or not, I’ll comply with your wishes.”
After long hesitation, Mu Zhe said hesitantly: “I… don’t want to leave Li Ren Peak.”
Shen Guorong blinked, seeming surprised by this answer, but soon he smiled softly and said: “Good.”
Mu Zhe stared at Shen Guorong’s rare smile, his body moving beyond his control as he stepped forward and suddenly embraced Shen Guorong’s slender waist.
Shen Guorong was startled, then smiled and patted Mu Zhe’s soft hair, thinking: Children should act spoiled more, that’s cuter.
Mu Zhe: “…”
Mu Zhe’s face reddened as he immediately released his grip and stepped back half a pace, his ears turning bright red.
While embarrassed, he couldn’t help but think: No wonder he treats Yu Xinghe so well. Master really does like children who act spoiled.
Seeing him blush, Shen Guorong was about to tease him when he caught sight of Xi Guxing leaning against the doorframe of Fanjiang Ju with a disgusted expression. He coughed and patted Mu Zhe’s head: “Go back now.”
Mu Zhe nodded, bowed, and left.
Only then did Shen Guorong walk over: “Why are you here?”
“Fifth Junior Brother said you were disturbing the peace and asked me to check.” Xi Guxing frowned: “Weren’t you quite stern with Mu Zhe before? Why are you being gentle now?”
Shen Guorong didn’t stand on ceremony with him: “How I teach my disciples doesn’t require your interference.”
Xi Guxing glanced at him and reached out to grab the bamboo flute from the table: “Weapon of mass destruction, confiscated.”
Shen Guorong: “…”
Shen Guorong quickly approached, reaching to snatch it back: “Give it back.”
Xi Guxing used the bamboo flute to tap his hand—crack!
Having just used the flute to hit Wen Liubing, Shen Guorong now received immediate karma, wincing and pulling his hand back.
“Wait your turn,” Xi Guxing said. “I’ll find you a proper flute teacher someday. Learn for a few years before tormenting people again.”
Shen Guorong glared at him.
Xi Guxing pocketed the bamboo flute: “Come, we have questions for you.”
Shen Guorong puzzledly stepped forward. We?
Leaving Fanjiang Ju and walking just a few steps brought them to Lotus Lake, where Su Xiyan sat under the bodhi tree making tea, while Lou Bugui crouched by the lake shore, tossing plump fish meat into the water.
Zhao Jiuxiao was too large in his true form, so Xi Guxing had forbidden him from thrashing about in Lotus Lake, lest he splash out all the water within days.
With no choice, Zhao Jiuxiao was forced to shrink to the size of two people, coiling around a stone in the water with his head slightly raised to catch fish.
Seeing Shen Guorong approach, Zhao Jiuxiao casually spat out a complete fish skeleton.
Shen Guorong stopped mid-step, frowning: “Is he spitting at me?”
Su Xiyan quickly mediated: “No, he’s spitting out bones.”
Previously, Zhao Jiuxiao would swallow fish whole, bones and all. But when Shen Guorong came, he’d eat one fish and spit once, his disdain overflowing.
Shen Guorong: “…”
Shen Guorong couldn’t be bothered arguing with him and sat across from Su Xiyan, gathering his robes.
Su Xiyan poured two cups of tea and placed them on the small table: “This year’s new tea from Youzhou, try it.”
Shen Guorong recalled the things Su Xiyan had brought from Youzhou. Either trinkets made from demon beast jawbones and hide, or strange, useless formations. Looking at the tea that seemed poisoned, he held the cup without drinking, lest he be poisoned to death.
Xi Guxing was even more direct. When Su Xiyan went to serve tea to Lou Bugui, he poured his tea to the side and put on an “the tea was excellent, I drank it all” expression.
Shen Guorong: “…”
When Su Xiyan returned, he naturally poured Xi Guxing another cup.
Xi Guxing: “…”
Su Xiyan said: “Shiyi, do you know why we’ve come to find you today?”
Shen Guorong hesitated, glancing at Zhao Jiuxiao who was still spitting fish bones, and tentatively said: “Because of my half golden core?”
Su Xiyan nodded.
Shen Guorong fell silent too.
After a long pause, he said quietly: “I don’t know.”
Su Xiyan said gently: “Guxing told me that you recently suffered cultivation madness and your personality changed greatly. You don’t remember many things clearly, but the golden core matter concerns your Great Dao. Shiyi…”
Before he could finish, Xi Guxing impatiently interrupted: “He’s never left Li Ren Peak before. The other half of his golden core must be on the mountain. Since he doesn’t remember, then we’ll search. We’ll find it eventually.”
Shen Guorong instinctively refused: “No need.”
He was startled by his own words.