Chapter 116: The Qin People Cross the West (Request Subscription! Thank You)

“Where have you been? Who was calling you?” Hongqu asked as Xiao Yu jumped down from the wall.

Zhang Da’s mother didn’t understand voice-transmission techniques; she simply shouted against the wall’s base, and Xiao Yu could hear her—Hongqu naturally sensed something too.

Xiao Yu hesitated only an instant, then tossed the small yellow cloth bag over.

“What’s this?”

Hongqu took the cloth bag, poured out the jade pendant inside, and exclaimed in surprise: “This is a spirit jade! Where did you get it?”

“The golden carp jade pendant from Xu Niangzi.”

Xiao Yu briefly recounted what had happened last night and just now, all the while examining the warm, lustrous jade pendant, and asked: “What is a spirit jade?”

Last night, she had briefly handled and closely observed the golden carp jade pendant.

But back then, the night was dark, and she’d only seen it dimly by distant residual light—not as clearly and finely as now, under the candlelight.

Indeed, its texture was fine, smooth, flawless, and evenly colored.

Under the light, the golden carp seemed to gain a hint of spiritual charm.

But as to whether it differed fundamentally from other fine jades, Xiao Yu’s knowledge was too shallow to tell.

“In terms of appearance, touch, and color, spirit jade isn’t necessarily superior to ordinary precious jade—it merely contains a trace of earth and stone spiritual energy, often used by immortals to craft jade objects like bowls, cups, and pots.”

“This spirit jade is too small to hold much value—”

Hongqu’s fingers paused mid-turn as she examined the pendant, a flash of surprise darting across her eyes, then vanished as she resumed calmly: “Of course, ‘no value’ only applies to immortals.”

“Regardless, it’s still a spirit jade.”

“Even uncarved raw jade like this could fetch several hundred taels of silver.”

“This golden carp is carved lifelike, brimming with spirit—should it fall into the hands of a noble who adores such things, selling it for two or three thousand taels wouldn’t be surprising.”

“No wonder Hu Niangzi felt greed—she likely recognized it as spirit jade.”

With that, she placed the pendant back into the cloth bag and returned it to Xiao Yu.

Xiao Yu took the pendant and hesitated: “Earlier, when I read the Yin Fu Jing, you said Yin Fu are common in armies—”

She stood right beside Hongqu, watching her expression closely, and had just noticed her odd demeanor.

So the golden carp jade pendant must be unusual!

Now Hongqu was pretending nothing was wrong—by nightfall, she’d surely write on Xiao Yu’s sole again.

Xiao Yu admired Hongqu’s caution, but the tingling on her sole was uncomfortable.

And after Hongqu finished writing on her foot, she’d drift off to sleep, clutching Xiao Yu’s foot tightly—Xiao Yu felt her drool had soaked into it.

“You mean the Yin Fu used to transmit secret military intelligence?”

Hongqu picked up a brush and drew dots, short lines, long lines, vertical strokes, and slants on paper: “These symbols form hidden messages—this is called ‘Yin Fu.’”

“But this kind of Yin Fu is mere triviality; the Emperor Yin Fu Jing contains the ultimate truths of heaven and earth for achieving immortality.”

“Both are called ‘Yin Fu,’ yet they’re as different as heaven and earth.”

“So what if it’s earth? What if it’s heaven? Without earth, the world dies; without clouds, the human realm merely loses a little beauty,” Xiao Yu said.

Hongqu glanced at her, sneering: “Big words are easy to speak; those who truly attain the Dao are few in this world.”

“Fine, no more big words—teach me how to use ordinary message-carrying Yin Fu,” Xiao Yu smiled apologetically.

Hongqu pursed her lips, hesitating: “Many know Yin Fu, but I’m not well-versed—perhaps you should learn from someone else.”

—Yin Fu techniques weren’t top secret; they were less covert than writing on the sole of the foot.

She didn’t know Xiao Yu disliked being hugged while sleeping, but she understood why Xiao Yu asked about Yin Fu.

“I’ll learn whatever I can.”

Xiao Yu thought of Morse code from her past life—perhaps sounds or gestures could represent basic symbols.

“To learn Yin Fu transmission, you must first understand the fundamentals of Yin-Yang and the Eight Trigrams.”

Hongqu spoke and drew continuously until the candle burned out, still not finishing the Yin Fu technique.

The stack of diagrams drawn on paper alone was already quite thick.

Fortunately, Xiao Yu had just undergone the Kunpeng transformation—her mind felt as if it had undergone a “transcendence.”

Before her sword bones shattered, she would’ve been dizzy, foggy, and learned nothing.

“I never imagined such a simple military communication trick involved such broad and profound Daoist theory.”

Mentally exhausted, and knowing Hongqu would write on her sole again tonight, Xiao Yu skipped her water-pool qi cultivation and went straight to bed.

“Hmph, why do you think it’s a simple trick? Transmitting messages plainly isn’t hard—just agree on symbols for characters, and any ordinary person can do it.”

“The key is secrecy!”

“Isn’t the whole point of Yin Fu to keep things hidden?”

“And the one you’re hiding from might even be an immortal.”

“How could ordinary encryption fool an immortal who understands the Great Dao?”

“To deceive an immortal with Yin Fu, do you need to understand Yin-Yang and the Eight Trigrams at the same level as an immortal?” Xiao Yu felt despair.

She learned Yin Fu precisely to deceive ghosts, immortals, and Buddhas.

If her understanding of Yin-Yang and the Eight Trigrams reached the level of immortals and Buddhas, why even use Yin Fu?

Anyone who dared eavesdrop would get a sword through their chest.

Hongqu said seriously: “You’re right—if you want Yin Fu to deceive someone, your knowledge of the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams must surpass theirs.”

“But that doesn’t mean Yin Fu becomes useless if your realm is lower.”

“After all, breaking Yin Fu takes time and effort.”

“And urgent military intelligence is time-sensitive.”

“Even if your enemy eventually deciphers your Yin Fu, if too much time passes, the information becomes useless by the time they get it.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

Xiao Yu frowned slightly—she felt the small mound on Hongqu’s chest.

Again, Hongqu hugged her foot, hiding beneath the quilt, and quietly wrote on her sole.

“The golden carp jade pendant seems to contain a spiritual transmission.”

The sudden surprise made Xiao Yu’s body tense.

But just as she expected Hongqu to continue, Hongqu rolled over and released her foot.

“What kind of transmission? Explain clearly!” Xiao Yu, exasperated, began feeling Hongqu’s foot.

“I don’t know—how can I explain?”

After a pause, Hongqu added: “Three years ago, I accompanied my father to visit Elder Song, the Blood-Hand Arhat. He was playing with a jade slip inscribed with the Lotus Sutra.”

“I was curious, borrowed it, and handled it for a while.”

“It felt somewhat like today’s golden carp jade pendant, but not quite the same.”

“Elder Song said the jade slip contained a sutra inscribed by a Bodhisattva’s spirit.”

“He wasn’t destined to receive it, so he couldn’t open it.”

“My feeling was like a glass box holding a book—I could faintly sense the book inside, but couldn’t open the box or read it.”

“The golden carp on this jade pendant—itself is a book. I have a feeling that if I played with it long enough, I’d naturally unlock its secrets.”

“But the golden carp isn’t my destiny—I don’t wish to entangle myself in karmic ties.”

“As for you… well, you decide for yourself.”

Xiao Yu felt uneasy.

That damn Hongqu—fallen into the brothel, powerless, couldn’t even wield martial arts—how dare she speak such lofty words as “unwilling to entangle in karma”?

“Golden Carp” might be a spiritual technique—a technique!

Compared to her earlier ecstasy upon first hearing of spiritual techniques, Xiao Yu now felt increasingly bitter.

“How do you know it’s not your destiny? How is destiny determined?”

Hongqu said: “When you encounter it and obtain it, that’s destiny—like opening your door at dawn and a magpie flies straight toward you, naturally.”

“If you pass by without taking it, or encounter it but don’t obtain it, then it’s not destiny.”

“If you force yourself to obtain it, it’s not destiny—it may bind you with heavy karma, becoming a cursed tie.”

“Xu Niangzi held it her whole life and gained nothing—no destiny.”

“Hu the Shopkeeper nearly died because of it—definitely a cursed tie.”

“Hu Niangzi had a bit of destiny—she sensed something, but you cut off her chance; now she’s probably seething with frustration!”

“But I doubt she’s the true destined one.”

“Then I must be the destined one!” Xiao Yu said.

“If I hadn’t warned you, you wouldn’t have noticed its anomaly—what kind of destined one are you? At best, you’re like Xu Niangzi—fated but not destined,” Hongqu replied.

Xiao Yu had planned to argue further.

But remembering Hongqu’s casual attitude toward the golden carp technique, and her words “unwilling to entangle in karma,”

she immediately hardened her tone: “I don’t even want it! I never intended to keep Xu’s jade pendant.”

“I gave it to Zhang Da for safekeeping, now I hold it under Zhang Da’s supervision—eventually, I’ll return it to Xu Huier. Wait—is Xu Huier the true destined one?”

After Hongqu fell asleep, Xiao Yu quietly rose from bed, took the pendant, and went beneath the grape arbor.

“Plop~~~”

No destiny on land—perhaps destiny awaits in water?

She truly had no intention of keeping Xu Huier’s jade pendant, but a technique is knowledge, a skill.

Knowledge doesn’t diminish when shared.

“Feng Nainai was right—within seven days, a noble will come from the east… Back then, among so many girls, the noble took one look at Jin Lian and even refused Madam Liu’s suggestion to bring Shao Yao to accompany him.”

“Yes, even the top courtesan of Tianmen isn’t seen—only Jin Lian is wanted. Jin Lian is truly going to strike it rich. Why don’t we chip in together and ask Granny Feng to divine our futures and perform a quiet spell?”

The next morning, Xiao Yu and Hong Qu went to the small canteen for breakfast; before they even entered, they saw two disheveled “old maids” squatting by the door, sipping egg soup and gazing with deep envy at “Granny Feng.”

Xiao Yu was about to ask a few questions when she heard many girls inside the canteen talking about Jin Lian and Granny Feng.

“Zi Ying, what’s going on? What happened to Sister Jin Lian?” Xiao Yu scooped up a bowl of soup, skewered two large fried dough cakes with her chopsticks, shoved aside the little girl beside Zi Ying, and sat down in her place.

“Sister Jin Lian has hit great fortune—a noble young master from the Central Civilization has taken up residence in her Yihong Academy.” Zi Ying’s face held no envy, only deep reverence.

“The Central Civilization? Is that Da Qin? Someone from Da Qin?” Xiao Yu exclaimed.

Zi Ying nodded vigorously. “According to Aunt Liu, he’s a true noble from the Central Civilization, like Marquis Lieyang—a noble of Da Qin, not some vassal from the eastern lands beyond Liushahe.”

“Is he here to prepare for the Da Qin envoy?” Xiao Yu asked, then frowned. “But if he’s the envoy’s man, he shouldn’t be so reckless—just crossed Liushahe and already came to Hongxiu Fang, even moving into Yihong Academy.”

“I don’t know. I only know that even the servants of a Central Civilization noble carry great dignity. Even the horse groom seems more composed than our Tianmen Town’s County Magistrate.”

— Compared to Zhu Yitao, who spouts nothing but village slang, who isn’t a refined gentleman?

Xiao Yu mentally scoffed.

Hong Qu asked curiously, “So the Qin noble brought a horse groom with him?”

“Cough—Hong Qu, you really are…” Xiao Yu nearly choked on her egg soup.

Several little girls nearby turned pale, clutched their bowls, and scurried away in fear.

Only Zi Ying remained, frightened and urgent. “Sister Hong Qu, you really should be more careful!”

Hong Qu glanced at the two girls, her expression calm, and continued sipping her soup slowly.

Zi Ying clamped her mouth shut and dared not speak again.

Zi Ying wasn’t wrong—the servants of the Qin noble indeed carried an extraordinary air.

Neither humble nor arrogant, their manners were impeccable; even a simple bow carried an aura of solemn grace.

Xiao Yu wasn’t exaggerating.

Some servants seemed to have cultivated their etiquette like martial arts, refining it into an aura of noble humility.

“How should we address this Chief Manager?”

Facing the middle-aged man standing with his hands behind his back at the entrance of Yihong Academy, Zi Ying and the others felt inferior and dared not approach, trailing behind Xiao Yu, timid and submissive.

Xiao Yu had met Qing Song the Daoist acolyte and Marquis Lieyang—she wasn’t intimidated by a “high-ranking servant.”

The middle-aged man’s eyes flickered, he bowed slightly, and smiled. “‘Chief Manager’ is too much—I merely escorted Master Gongsun to his post in Xisha Domain. I hold no official rank and need no title like ‘my lord.’”

“Miss, you may call me Old Zou. My surname is Zou, my given name Wen.”

“Old Zou, I’m Yu Fengxian, Jin Lian’s sword instructor. Is it convenient to go in now?”

A flicker of embarrassment crossed Old Zou’s gaunt cheeks. He shook his head. “Sister Jin Lian and my master stayed up too late—they haven’t risen yet.”

In truth, they had risen and were already doing their “morning practice”—loudly. He couldn’t bear to listen, so he left the courtyard.

“Old Zou, could you tell me how many people you brought?” Xiao Yu sensed seven or eight strangers in the courtyard.

Speedboat tickets were precious—even Marquis Lieyang had only granted ten or so to western generals.

She didn’t believe Master Gongsun was more extravagant than Marquis Lieyang.

Old Zou smiled faintly. “If you mean those who crossed Liushahe with us, there were at least seven or eight hundred.”

“Seven or eight hundred people? How did they cross?” Xiao Yu gasped.

Old Zou shook his head. “Hard to say, hard to say. I’m just a guard—I don’t know the details, and I can’t speak freely.”