Chapter 101: The Deal with Jin Lian

That morning, Xiao Yu leapt onto the roof to practice swordplay.

Before she finished the Nine Flower Sword Form, she suddenly sensed a watching gaze coming from afar.

It was not Hongqu in the front courtyard—the gaze came from behind Xiao Jingxuan.

She glanced with the corner of her eye and saw a young woman, seventeen or eighteen, on the opposite side of the alley.

The Liang River, flowing in from the southwest into Tianmen Town, split into two branches south of Xiao Jingxuan: the eastern one called Qingshui River, the western one called Xiao Liang River.

From Liang River to Qingshui River and Xiao Liang River, it resembled the character “ Ren .”

The “Qingshuiwan” where Hongxiu Fang stood lay precisely on the left leg of that “ Ren .”

Xiao Jingxuan sat at the very edge of Qingshuiwan, as if lodged right in the crotch of the “ Ren .”

Standing on the roof of Xiao Jingxuan and looking south, one first saw a small rocky hill—no more than one or two mu—blocking the southern Liang River and forcing it to branch off.

Beyond the rear wall of Xiao Jingxuan, to the west, lay a narrow alley less than two meters wide—Jiangyou Lane.

Across the alley was another household, whose main gate likely faced directly onto Xiao Liang River.

Without a sound, Xiao Yu glided like a bird spreading its wings—light as air, yet swift—leaping over the alley and the opposite courtyard’s wall, crossing seven or eight zhang, and landing before the young woman.

“Oh! What do you want?”

The woman startled, shrinking back, her voice loud with alarm.

“Yu Fengxian greets this elder sister!”

Xiao Yu still held her sword, tip pointed downward, hands clasped in greeting.

The young woman instinctively bent her knees in a wanfu bow and said, “Cui’er greets you, little sister. How did you fly over?”

This time her voice lowered, and her expression returned to normal.

“Elder sister Cui’er, you don’t know—watching others practice martial arts is improper,” Xiao Yu laughed.

“Oh? Is that so? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Cui’er blushed and bowed repeatedly in apology.

“But you were standing on the roof—I couldn’t help seeing you!” Cui’er suddenly realized.

Xiao Yu gripped her arm and laughed heartily: “Hahaha, I was just teasing you, Elder Sister Cui’er. You may watch however you like—even learn, if you wish.”

I came here today to pay a visit to Master Wang.

It’s early morning—Master Wang should be at home, right?

By the way, who are you to Master Wang?”

“I’m a maid in the Wang household,” Cui’er said, sizing her up.

Her face was rosy and soft, her features delicate, eyes bright, teeth white, long black hair glossy, a silk ribbon tied around her forehead, another tied at the ends.

She bore a hint of Shama traits.

She frowned oddly: “My master’s surname is Wang, but he’s not called ‘Chushi.’”

Xiao Yu was puzzled: “But last night I heard it straight from General Zhang’s mouth.”

Cui’er suppressed a laugh: “‘Chushi’ isn’t a name—it’s a title, like ‘Squire.’”

“Ah, I see. Thank you, Elder Sister Cui’er, for the clarification,” Xiao Yu smiled calmly, showing not a trace of embarrassment.

Cui’er found this strange and asked: “Why do you want to see my master?”

Xiao Yu said: “A few days ago, soldiers were searching everywhere for the Thousand-Handed Bandit Sage—have you heard?”

Cui’er nodded.

Xiao Yu continued: “I was practicing swordplay on the roof then, and the soldiers mistook me for a thief. Your master vouched for me, spoke up on my behalf.”

She quickly and thoroughly recounted the events of that night.

“I have no ulterior motive—just seeing you, I felt a sudden impulse to come thank Master Wang.”

Cui’er shook her head: “Fengxian, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a young girl jumping over walls into a man’s private courtyard—even if he’s an old man—it’s improper.”

If you truly wish to thank him, first go through the front gate; second, don’t demand to see the master—ask to meet the mistress.”

“You’re right—I understand the logic. But I think your master is a broad-minded man, unbound by petty formalities, and won’t mind. If he doesn’t mind, I don’t care. When I feel like it, I come to chat; when the mood fades, I leave gracefully,” Xiao Yu said.

Cui’er was even more puzzled: “Have you ever met my master?”

Xiao Yu shook her head: “That night I only heard his voice, didn’t see him clearly. But think—when I, a wandering woman, leapt into your yard, you thought it improper.

Yet that night, your master publicly declared he knew me—laughing, across the alley, with Hongxiu Fang right opposite. I suspect your master, like you, merely happened to see me practicing swordplay on the roof.

He didn’t hesitate, didn’t avoid suspicion—only because he feared I’d be pierced by soldiers’ arrows and crossbows.”

Cui’er stood silent, stunned.

Xiao Yu bowed again: “Elder Sister Cui’er, I’m off!”

With that, she leapt into the air like a bird spreading its wings; the morning breeze stirred the hairs at her temples, the eastern dawn light glowed upon her, gilding her edges.

Cui’er stared, then hurriedly called out: “Why are you leaving?”

“My mood has passed. I’ll come again another day.”

Back in the courtyard, Xiao Yu asked: “Hongqu, what does ‘Chushi’ mean?”

“Do you know which two characters ‘Chushi’ are?” Hongqu returned indoors, took up a brush, and wrote two characters on paper.

Xiao Yu looked and seemed to understand.

“A nobleman who never entered official service is called Chushi. To be honored as ‘Chushi,’ Master Wang is no ordinary man,” Hongqu said.

Xiao Yu sighed: “I still have so much to learn!”

“Learning has no end! Don’t think that just because you can read and write, you no longer need to study.”

Xiao Yu said: “I do read—I study Daoist scriptures with you every afternoon.”

Strictly speaking, Hongqu guided her through the scriptures.

The threshold of Daoist scriptures was too high, and their varieties too numerous.

Without guidance, reading blindly wouldn’t accumulate Dao energy—it would ruin you.

After all, this world had martial arts, arcane arts, and immortal techniques.

Reading secular books without deep understanding could still broaden your horizons; but misinterpreting Daoist scriptures, practicing Daoist immortal martial arts incorrectly, could truly kill you.

Like Mei Chaofeng, who practiced the Nine Yin True Classic.

Hongqu had been nurtured since childhood by Dou Yilin, accumulating a wealth of Daoist theory.

Xiao Yu guessed that in all of Tianmen Town, few surpassed Hongqu in insight.

If she chose to cultivate the Male Dragon Art now, she would generate internal qi within a day.

Her Dao energy was visibly abundant.

Xiao Yu wanted to borrow some Dao energy, so she begged Hongqu to be her Dao scripture tutor.

Hongqu was kind—even after being bullied just days ago, she never refused.

Her explanations were meticulous and patient, never impatient.

This made Xiao Yu feel ashamed enough to stop driving her away or forbidding her to bathe by the pond.

“Dao scriptures don’t count. If you read them with heavy selfish intent, the effect is worse than casually reading widely.”

The principles are all interconnected.

Dao scriptures speak of Dao and principle.

Good books, too, express the ultimate truths of heaven and earth in another way,” Hongqu said.

“You’re right—I understand. But right now, I must squeeze every bit of knowledge from you before your uncles and aunts come to rescue you, and I regret it too late,” Xiao Yu said frankly.

Hongqu was different from her.

She was certain she could only rely on herself—without years of effort, she could never gain true freedom.

But Hongqu might vanish at any moment. Xiao Yu hoped that when she disappeared, it would be sudden and silent—without disturbing her, without thinking to eliminate her as a “deadly enemy of the Western Eight Immortals.”

“I no longer hold any expectations,” Hongqu said softly, head bowed.

Xiao Yu sneered: “Wait until you begin cultivating immortal martial arts before saying that.”

This girl wouldn’t even abandon the phantom notion of “immortal fate”—how could she truly give up on escaping Hongxiu Fang?

Hongqu lifted her head and glanced at her: “Do you really want me to abandon all hope of immortality?”

Xiao Yu laughed: “Hahaha, first, I never believe cultivating immortal martial arts means abandoning the path to immortality.

Second, you have your own future—take charge of it. I’m also striving to control my own destiny.

Right now, we’re both poor—let’s encourage each other, not hold each other back.

When we’re wealthy, we can ‘never forget each other.’”

Morning, Lixiang Garden.

Xiao Yu was teaching the Purple Plum Sword Form when Liu Gugu entered the courtyard and waved: “Little Fengxian, come here!”

“What is it?”

“Come with me,” Liu Gugu turned and walked out.

Xiao Yu waved to Ziying, signaling her to continue practicing alone, then followed Liu Gugu out of the garden.

“You get along well with Ziying!”

Xiao Yu beamed: “Not just Ziying—everyone likes me.”

“Hmph. It’s because they all need you now,” Liu Gugu sneered.

“They need me, I help them selflessly, they like me—it’s perfectly logical,” Xiao Yu laughed.

“Wait until they’ve mastered the Nine Flower Sword—see how they treat you then,” Liu Gugu said.

Xiao Yu smiled still: “I teach them because I hope they succeed.

When they achieve their goal, I’m happiest. Their attitude doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t believe you’re that lofty.” Aunt Liu said.

Xiao Yu held her hands behind her back, gazing at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle, and said coolly, “I’m not lofty—I’m just standing high.”

She taught sword techniques to courtesans, with no special purpose.

Spending time and energy to help them slightly brought her joy.

Their true inner feelings didn’t matter.

She didn’t do it to do good.

Just like when she buried the dead at San Cha Ridge, she had no thought of “doing a good deed today.”

It was purely spontaneous—she thought of it, wanted to do it, so she did.

When she lost interest, she’d stop.

Her thoughts were simple, but explaining them was complicated, and she was too lazy to explain—better to put on a show.

Aunt Liu was taken in by her act; her hands itched, and she wanted to strike with a move called “Hunyuan Wuliang.”

“Little Fengxian, you’re here! Come in, come in quickly!”

Miss Jin Lian smiled like a brilliant flower; she had already stepped out of the courtyard and was waiting at the gate.

Seeing Xiao Yu and Aunt Liu approach, she hurried forward a few steps, taking Xiao Yu’s right hand in both of hers, warmly and affectionately.

Xiao Yu glanced at Aunt Liu and felt a sudden insight.

“Little Fengxian, you want to witness the extraordinary skills of martial heroes, spar with them, and earn some reward money to buy cultivation supplements.

You want to improve, and Jin Lian wants to improve too.

Little Fengxian, teach Jin Lian the Nine Flower Sword.

Jin Lian has plenty of experience—she’ll help you get familiar with all the circles in Tianmen Town.”

Jin Lian smiled warmly at Xiao Yu and spoke first: “I’ll take you to every banquet hosted by martial heroes, teach you the ways of the Jianghu, and do my best to help you deal with those stinking men.”

Xiao Yu smiled back at her, speaking sweetly: “Thank you, Sister Jin Lian—I’ll make you a sword master!”

Jin Lian gave a bitter smile. “No need for me to become a sword master—I don’t have that fate, nor that kind of ambition.

Mastering one form of the Nine Flower Sword and successfully marrying off myself—that’s my ‘great aspiration.’”

Xiao Yu felt a flicker of curiosity—had this head courtesan of Hongxiu Fang found her true love?

The money tree wanted to run away, but Aunt Liu showed no reaction.

They’d only met a few times; their relationship wasn’t close, so she didn’t press.

“Sister Jin Lian, how do you schedule your cultivation time?”

Jin Lian had clearly thought about this before; she replied immediately: “Around the tenth hour in the morning, I can cultivate for an hour. In the afternoon, if there’s a banquet with martial heroes, I’ll invite you.

Even if we can’t practice swordplay due to the setting, you can still explain sword theory to me during our time together.”

“Fine.”

Jin Lian looked at her expectantly. “Can we start right now?”

Xiao Yu said: “Could you ask someone to bring Zhiying from Lixiang Garden? She’s still in the foundational stage—she can listen in.”

“Of course. My courtyard is big enough—more people won’t be a problem.” Jin Lian said promptly.

“Aunt Liu, aren’t you busy today?” Zhiying had arrived, yet Aunt Liu still sat beside them sipping tea.

“I’m just listening. Pretend I’m not here.” Aunt Liu smiled.

Xiao Yu truly ignored her, turning to Jin Lian: “Sister, have you ever practiced the Nine Flower Sword?”

Jin Lian said: “Of course I have. I started practicing when I was about your age, and by sixteen, when I was first ‘combed and capped,’ my movements were smooth and fluent—but I never grasped a single trace of its spirit.

We courtesans aren’t martial warriors who fight and kill—we practice the Nine Flower Sword just for that ‘spirit of the blooming flower.’”

After speaking, she drew her sword and performed the entire routine in the courtyard.

It was indeed smooth—but devoid of spirit, force, and speed alike.

Soft and limp, it couldn’t kill a man, let alone chase or pierce a chicken.