Chapter 52: Jiang Ye

“What a coincidence.”

Jiang Ye stood on the steps, gazing down at the two familiar figures below, his aged eyes flickering with an extremely complex emotion.

There was relief, there was lament, and also a hint of indescribable... guilt.

Liu Qingshi seemed to sense something, looking upward, then his body subtly trembled, a faint, hidden change flashing in his eyes.

On the steps above stood an elderly man, clad in the robes of the Tianqing Sect, his hair streaked white, tall and slender.

There was an inexplicable sense of familiarity about him.

“Old Jiang... no...”

Unconsciously, he flashed the image of a hunched figure always sitting by the door, then shook his head slightly, dismissing the unrealistic thought.

This man before him was a steward of the Tianqing Sect, his aura steady and dignified, utterly unlike the frail, ancient Jiang Ye.

In appearance, physique, or bearing, there was not the slightest resemblance.

“Could it be that I miss Old Jiang so much I’m hallucinating...”

He chuckled faintly, shook his head, and continued climbing upward.

Behind him, Liu Yiyi followed her father’s gaze and, upon seeing the elder on the steps, her slender frame also trembled slightly.

She didn’t think of Jiang Ye, but recalled the elder who had “fought” her and Su Yan that night.

Because this elder’s tall, slender build was indeed similar to that one.

But their faces were quite different—this elder’s expression was calmer, unlike the other, whose face bore a menacing look, clearly dangerous, radiating power and aggression.

“What am I thinking...”

A faint sheen of moisture flickered in the girl’s cold eyes, a light blush spreading across her fair face.

Just thinking of that elder brought flooding memories of those disgraceful scenes, quickening her heartbeat, making her body burn.

Father and daughter, each lost in their own thoughts, passed Jiang Ye without notice and continued climbing the mountain.

Jiang Ye descended a few steps, then halted, turned, and activated the true essence of “Startled Deer Without Trace,” his entire form becoming a shadow merging with the mountain breeze, following them slowly and steadily.

He watched Liu Qingshi lead Liu Yiyi to the mountain gate.

Liu Qingshi spoke to the gatekeeper disciple, who immediately grew solemn and hurried inside the gate.

Not long after, he returned with a middle-aged man clad in Elder’s robes, his demeanor refined and scholarly.

The middle-aged man radiated a faint, watery aura, gentle and enduring—clearly a Bao Dan cultivator.

Seeing the man, Liu Qingshi’s face lit up with a warm smile as he hurried forward.

They clearly knew each other for years; upon meeting, they eagerly chatted, occasionally clapping each other’s shoulders, the ease of old friends reunited.

Soon, the Elder welcomed Liu Qingshi and Liu Yiyi inside the gate.

Their figures gradually vanished behind the grand gatehouse.

Far away, Jiang Ye stood silently beneath the shadow of an ancient pine, watching the disappearing backs, his aged eyes flickering with a strange light.

“I never expected the Sect Master’s old friend was actually a Bao Dan Elder.”

Jiang Ye nodded slightly, a hint of relief appearing in his eyes.

With this connection, Liu Yiyi’s admission into the Tianqing Sect was all but certain.

He did not follow them in, but found an inconspicuous corner near the gate and waited quietly.

About an hour later.

Liu Qingshi’s figure finally appeared at the gate.

He walked out alone, his usually composed face now glowing with an unrestrained smile, his steps noticeably lighter than when he arrived.

Jiang Ye watched from afar and understood at once—Liu Yiyi had surely succeeded in joining the Tianqing Sect.

Liu Qingshi, in high spirits, descended the steps briskly, clearly eager to return home and share the good news with his wife, Huang Xiyu.

He noticed nothing as a shadow-like figure followed him slowly, ten zhang behind, accompanying him all the way.

Jiang Ye trailed behind, watching the upright, joyfully light back, a faint smile appearing on his aged face.

Night fell.

Liu Qingshi turned into an alley.

Jiang Ye watched from afar, pausing in surprise—it wasn’t the direction of the Su family residence.

He remembered Liu Qingshi’s family had been staying at the Su Mansion, yet now Liu Qingshi entered a slightly smaller house nearby.

The gate was plain but clean and orderly, the lintel still without a plaque.

“Oh? Moved houses?”

Jiang Ye’s eyes flickered with surprise.

It seemed Liu Qingshi had bought the house himself and moved out of the Su household.

Given his nature, he’d never wish to remain a long-term guest.

He walked slowly near the courtyard, listened for a moment, confirmed Liu Qingshi’s aura had entered the inner chamber, then lightly stepped—his body like a nimble swallow, silently leaping over the wall.

The moment his feet touched ground, not a speck of dust stirred.

The true essence of “Startled Deer Without Trace” had long become his instinct.

“You said that Xie Tang was your old friend from youth—why did you give him fifty thousand taels in silver notes?”

Inside, Huang Xiyu’s voice carried both concern and confusion.

“Xiyu, you don’t understand,” Liu Qingshi’s voice was steady but weary: “My relationship with Xie Tang is good, but some money must be given.”

“He’s now an Elder of the Tianqing Sect. At his status, fifty thousand taels is nothing. Him accepting it is giving me face.”

“Sigh...” Huang Xiyu sighed softly, her voice thick with complex emotion: “We do have some savings, but this house cost a lot, and you bought so many elixirs for Yiyi... Qingshi, can we even afford this...”

“Yiyi’s in the Tianqing Sect now—it’s nothing like the Wu Academy! The competition will be far fiercer!”

Liu Qingshi’s voice carried resolve and the weight of fatherhood:

“We can’t hold her back. Whatever we can lift, we lift.”

“I know that’s true...” Huang Xiyu’s voice lowered, tinged with sorrow and helplessness.

“Wife, don’t worry,” Liu Qingshi’s tone softened, soothing: “I’ve already arranged it with Su Chen. He’s opened a new trade route and needs someone to guard it along the way—he’s offered it to me.”

“Guard a trade route?!” Huang Xiyu’s voice instantly grew anxious: “Qingshi, won’t that be dangerous? This Fucheng isn’t Anxi County—Hua Jing experts are everywhere, and there are even Bao Dan cultivators...”

“Xiyu, don’t rush,” Liu Qingshi cut in calmly: “I received a letter from Zhao Gang yesterday. He finally broke through to Hua Jing.”

“Zhao Gang?!” Huang Xiyu’s voice brightened with delight: “That big oaf finally broke through? That’s really...”

“Not just him,” Liu Qingshi’s voice carried a hint of amusement: “He wrote that he’s bringing Shi Lei with him to Fucheng to join me. With both of them, I’ll have help.”

“I trust Zhao Gang—he’s dependable, hardworking, strong as an ox,” Huang Xiyu’s voice grew noticeably lighter: “I’ve seen Shi Lei a few times too—he’s honest, his eyes are clear, he’s reliable. With them helping you, things will be much easier.”

Inside, Liu Qingshi’s steady laugh echoed, filled with relief.

Outside the window, Jiang Ye stood silently in the shadows, absorbing every word.

“Zhao Gang broke through to Hua Jing...” His aged eyes flickered with surprise.

That senior brother from the Wu Academy, honest and steady, had finally taken this step.

And Shi Lei as well.

The boy he once enlightened with “Flowing water doesn’t compete for precedence” was coming to Fucheng too.

He nodded slightly, a hint of relief appearing in his eyes.

With these two helping him, Liu Qingshi’s burden would indeed lighten considerably.

Moments later.

Inside the room, the voices faded into silence.

Liu Qingshi stepped out, his steps steady as he crossed the small courtyard and opened another door.

Jiang Ye followed soundlessly, a shadow merging with the night, standing just outside the half-open window.

He glanced casually inside.

The next instant, his pupils contracted sharply.

The room was small, sparsely furnished, yet spotlessly clean.

On the wall directly opposite the door stood a spirit tablet.

Made of black wood, on a plain white base, with a simple incense burner and offerings before it.

Smoke curled gently from the burner—clearly, someone paid tribute often.

But what stunned him most was the inscription on the tablet—

“Spirit Tablet of the Benevolent Lord Jiang Ye.”

The characters were upright and forceful, each stroke deeply carved—clearly hand-carved, with utmost devotion.

Jiang Ye stood frozen outside the window, like a stone statue.

His own spirit tablet.

Liu Qingshi had... erected a spirit tablet for him.