Chapter 24: Undercurrents Part 2

Wei Lingci lifted her eyes to glance at her. Seeing her wide peach-blossom eyes, clear and spirited, filled with admiration, Wei Lingci pursed her lips. She, who never showed emotion, retained her serene poise, but her face rarely flushed three shades. She said softly, “This master does not.”

The Wei family could be called a scholarly lineage; her ancestor had been the Previous Emperor’s teacher, quick-witted and well-read. Though not versed in martial arts, she had mastered arrays—a rare talented woman. Unfortunately, by Wei Xiao’s generation, though skilled in literature, arrays weren’t involved.

As Xun Changqing had expected, she pursed her lips and said nothing, eating the fish from her bowl.

“What I know involves mountain arrays. If you want to learn battlefield formations and troop deployments, ask your father.”

There was still hope, then. What Xun Changqing yearned for were the mountain arrays—the simplest being the main gate, though she feared it wouldn’t work, leaving only the back mountain.

Zi Jin had tried; the back mountain arrays were eerie and unpredictable, with sheer cliffs. A slight misstep led to death. High martial skill gave an edge, but triggering a mechanism would summon the mountain’s people, leading to capture.

Battlefield arrays were useless to her now anyway; escaping came first. She scooted to Wei Lingci’s side with a beaming smile, diligently picking a piece of fish for Wei Lingci’s bowl, chuckling lightly, “Mountain arrays will do. I’m not a ma—not, I mean, I’m not like my two brothers, boys who go to battlefields. Learning some basics is enough for me, just to go up and down the mountain conveniently.”

She secretly bit her tongue, feeling tense. In her agitation, she’d nearly revealed her secret as a girl—good thing she reacted quickly. Observing Wei Lingci, she seemed not to notice the slip, so Xun Changqing secretly sighed in relief.

Wei Lingci focused on something else, looking at her: “You want to go down the mountain? You can leave openly through the front gate—no one will stop you. Why breach the mountain arrays?”

“There are times the front gate isn’t convenient. Besides, you just mentioned it to me, so you must intend to teach me.”

Indeed, Wei Lingci had brought it up first. The pedantic academy teachers likely wouldn’t know—these were Lingyun Sect’s secrets; how could outsider scholars uncover them? Perhaps Wei Lingci didn’t know the academy’s curriculum, hence the question.

Each harbored their own thoughts. Wei Lingci took the steps Xun Changqing had laid and said smoothly, “Tomorrow, ask the teacher for half a month’s leave. When you return, wait for me in the study. In the morning, I’ll teach you.”

Xun Changqing nodded eagerly. After dinner, she returned to her room and waited for Zi Jin. She hadn’t come during the day, so she surely would at night.

In the evening, stars dotted the black night like a child’s bright, crystalline eyes.

After bathing, Wei Lingci changed into a willow-green gauze skirt, her long hair flowing. She moved like drifting clouds at night, carrying a cup of tea to Xun Changqing’s room. When the latter opened the door, her surprised gaze fell on the tea. She refused, “Master, tea at night makes it hard to sleep.”

“It’s just ginseng tea; it won’t keep you awake. I had the kitchen brew it specially—drink it and go to bed quickly.” She finished, then scanned Xun Changqing’s neatly dressed clothes and the still-glowing dim lamp in the room. “You’re dressed so neatly—planning to go down the mountain at midnight?”

Xun Changqing frowned, cautiously negotiating, “Must I drink it?”

Wei Lingci countered, “It’s not poison. So hard to swallow?”

Of course she wasn’t afraid of poison. With no choice, Xun Changqing took it and drank it down. It tasted like ordinary ginseng tea. She returned the empty cup to Wei Lingci.

Wei Lingci only instructed, “Rest early.”

This minor ripple didn’t catch Xun Changqing’s attention; similar things had happened before. When she first arrived, Wei Lingci had ordered ginseng tea from the small kitchen too. Once the opposite room’s lights went out, she opened the window and waited for Zi Jin.

She waited a long time with no sign of Zi Jin. Drowsy on the table, she figured Zi Jin would wake her upon arrival, so she boldly dozed off with eyes half-closed.

Autumn nights no longer heard cicadas; moonless tonight, a few stars hung distantly in the ink-black sky. Mountain paths were treacherous. Zi Jin climbed up and waited long outside Purple Ying Pavilion. Seeing no one around, she flipped over the high wall.

This wasn’t her first time; she knew the way and ran straight to Xun Changqing’s room. The window was open—clearly, the person inside had waited long. She trotted over, but as she moved to climb in, the opposite room’s light suddenly lit.

Walls surrounded them; only a parasol tree offered hiding. As she stepped to climb it, a voice rang unusually clear in the midnight hush: “No need to climb the tree. Come inside.”

Recognizing Wei Lingci was waiting for her specifically, Zi Jin’s eyes froze, icy snowflakes seeming to float in them. She didn’t move, standing opposite Wei Lingci.

“You can choose to stand there. I don’t need to call others; I alone can keep you in Purple Ying Pavilion.”

Her voice matched her—extremely cold, like a sword blade shattering millennial ice, chilling to the bone.

Zi Jin gripped her broken blade. Five years ago in the Lingyang battle, Wei Lingci had defeated dozens of assassins alone, emerging unscathed, her martial prowess shocking. Even if more came, she couldn’t escape intact now.

After a moment’s thought, she glanced at the window behind, gritted her teeth, sheathed her short blade, and stepped into Wei Lingci’s bedroom.

A single lamp burned dimly inside, light pooling thinly at the wick yet bright there. Wei Lingci took a lamp from the bedside, lit the wick, and sudden brightness pierced the dimly yellow room.

She placed both lamps together, her face sternly cold. “Changqing is asleep. Even if you go to her now, it’s useless.”

Wei Lingci’s gaze was very indifferent, unreadable. Zi Jin removed her black face mask, revealing a handsome face, but her eyes were equally cold—dark guards had no personal emotions. She said nothing; without knowing Wei Lingci’s intent, she wouldn’t speak first, putting herself at a disadvantage.