Chapter 16: Coaxing Part 2

“What…” Xun Yisu couldn’t suppress her gasp. The border prince was a woman? Did she plan to emulate Great Qi’s Condensing Origin Empress and the Previous Emperor, ascending the throne as a woman and subjugating the masses?

“But why marry me? It’ll be exposed once we return,” Xun Yisu’s voice weakened. Yuan Man’s hands grew even more restless, landing on her waist and pinching lightly—not painful, but itchily inescapable.

Discussing this now wouldn’t yield answers. Xun Yisu relaxed her own grip, only to hear a faint whisper by her ear: “Asu, I missed you. So much. So very much.”

…

On the day of the Winter Solstice, a ship docked at Lingyun Rear Mountain.

The vessel wasn’t large, resembling a cargo merchant ship, unremarkable amid the vast, boundless Yangtze River. People had been waiting at the docks below the mountain since early, gazing toward the distant water, awaiting someone’s arrival.

Xun Changqing lingered on the deck for a long time. After the servants unloaded the luggage, she still stood there, her gaze drifting far away. She had declined the sect master’s invitation but couldn’t avoid Wei Lingci.

Entering the mountain was easy; leaving was hard. The mountain was riddled with arrays—outsiders needed a guide from within, or nine out of ten would die inside. Thus, no one dared trespass Lingyun Mountain. The same went for leaving.

In Xun Changqing’s eyes, Lingyun Mountain was more like a man-eating place. It appeared a righteous sect of the martial world, but inside, people schemed and backstabbed, narrow-minded and selfish. After the current sect master stepped down, the new one, Wang Pingjun, turned that scheming toward the imperial court, far beyond the mountain’s bounds.

Martial artists generally cared little for money, but Wang Pingjun stretched his hand into the jianghu for silver to fatten his purse—assassin deals, sending disciples to kill and rob.

Wei Lingci packed in the cabin and emerged a step late. Seeing her little disciple standing dumbly on the deck, eyes hazy as she stared at the bustling crowd on the docks, lost in thought, Wei Lingci approached and patted the back of her head. “Why haven’t you gone down?”

After a few breaths of silence, Xun Changqing gathered her scattered thoughts, bared her teeth in a grin, and said, “Waiting for Master.”

“Good girl.” Wei Lingci suspected nothing, bent slightly to take her hand, and led her off the ship.

The early winter wind on the deck was chilly, cooling Xun Changqing’s cheeks, her little hand icy. Wei Lingci enveloped the plump back of her hand in her own warm palm and led her down.

At the docks, a youth in green directed the servants busily. Xun Changqing glanced at him and looked away. This was Lu Hengzhi, steward of the Literature Hall on the mountain—later Wang Pingjun’s disciple, no, currently the great disciple of the current sect master. A flatterer who sailed with the wind. For now, just a minor errand boy.

In her previous life, he often followed her, knew her secrets. When trouble struck, he spread word to the world that she admired Wei Lingci, drawing outsiders’ spittle and scorn.

Once off the ship, Lu Hengzhi hurried over. He was marginally handsome, but the gleam in his eyes reminded Xun Changqing of a phrase from plays: shifty-eyed. Tall for fifteen, he was half a head shorter than Wei Lingci. Approaching, he bowed to her. “Martial Uncle Wei, the journey must have been tiring.”

Martial Uncle Wei… Had Wang Pingjun already taken her as a disciple? Xun Changqing looked to Wei Lingci, her dark eyes filled only with confusion. Wei Lingci explained, “This is the Literature Hall’s little steward, handling miscellaneous tasks. You’ll meet him when you enter the Literature Hall. His name is Lu… Lu.”

“Lu Hengzhi,” he helpfully reminded her, eyeing the boyishly dressed Xun Changqing at Wei Lingci’s side—delicate brows and eyes, fair skin, rosy lips. He smiled. “This must be Martial Uncle Wei’s new disciple. Prettier than a little girl. The lodging is arranged in Pure Self Courtyard.”

Prettier than a little girl… The words sounded off. Xun Changqing glared fiercely, but caught Wei Lingci looking down at her and quickly schooled her expression, lowering her head and straightening her back in perfect obedience.

Wei Lingci’s gaze had already shifted to another person—a girl of twelve or thirteen, light-footed, always head down, in plain cloth unlike ordinary servants. She glanced once, then turned back to the fawning Lu Hengzhi. “No need. I’ve arranged it myself. No Pure Self Courtyard.”

Arranging new disciples’ lodging was Lu Hengzhi’s duty. Pure Self Courtyard housed newcomers; later, they got their own. He’d been the same—shared at first, independent after becoming steward. This broke the rules. Unhappy but smiling, he asked, “Then where?”

On Lingyun Mountain, the sect master reigned supreme, followed by elders, but most revered were his three disciples: eldest Wang Pingjun, second Mu Chen, and youngest Wei Lingci. After the master retired, one would be chosen as next.

Thus, Wei Lingci’s authority even surpassed some elders. Lu Hengzhi’s words carried subtle challenge, displeasing her. She glanced at him lingering before her and said coolly, “I have my own arrangements. Go handle the others’ lodging.”

Wei Lingci hadn’t smiled, her frown sharpening her chill aura, intimidating. Lu Hengzhi realized he’d overstepped, bowed awkwardly, and retreated.

A fifteen-year-old with such poise was rare, but Lu Hengzhi’s heart was crooked, dabbling in shady deeds. Grown, his ambitions would grow wilder, harming others.

The docks bustled—passengers boarding, porters hauling goods ashore.

Wei Lingci led Xun Changqing up the mountain. A cloth-clad girl looked up at them briefly before resuming with the luggage.

“That girl just now—is she yours? Planning to bring her to Lingyun?”

Xun Changqing knew she couldn’t fool Wei Lingci. She pursed her lips, thinking of an excuse, but her palm was pinched. Wei Lingci squeezed her hand, as if reminding: tell the truth.