Chapter 764

Pei Ye found it hard to describe how he felt upon hearing those words; the girl looked at him with calm seriousness, and her clean face made it difficult to doubt her sincerity.

In fact, when Pei Ye lay on his sickbed, gazing upward, he had always liked seeing such a face.

For no matter how high one’s martial skill, once lying on a sickbed, one inevitably felt like fish on a chopping block—body no longer one’s own, stripped bare, pinched and kneaded, bones tapped, tendons probed; others treated you as if you had no consciousness, and you tried to believe you were merely inert flesh.

At such times, Pei Ye cherished Qu Xin’s cold expression, as if he were no different from a piece of wood; though he felt deeply uncomfortable exposing his chest and thighs bare before her, lifting his head to see her face calmed him greatly.

The look she gave him—as if watching a wriggling worm—left him utterly free of psychological burden.

But when standing properly dressed, Pei Ye grew wary of that face.

You could never guess what shameless thoughts this solemn girl might be harboring—though she herself considered them perfectly normal.

“Do you think I’m pondering something indecent right now?” Qu Xin said to him.

“No,” Pei Ye replied.

"We endured hardships and faced life and death together in the Great Ming Palace—you shouldn't keep doubting me like this."

Pei Ye felt a faint pang of guilt: “Really—I didn’t think that. You said you wanted to do good deeds—what kind?”

Qu Xin said: “Pei Ye, do you know who else came to the garden today besides the various sword sects?”

Pei Ye thought: “Some martial celebrities and power brokers from the capital?”

“Correct. And what else?”

“What else…?”

“Many who love the sword way but cannot cultivate it,” Qu Xin said. “They went to great lengths to squeeze into this Sword Banquet, yet no one recognizes them, and they cannot even speak to the famed swordmasters.”

“… ”

“They’re all young, utterly sincere—many sneaked out against their families’ wishes, stealing a single invitation. Don’t you think it’s heartbreaking if they come all this way and can’t speak to even one renowned swordsman? That’s why I came.”

Pei Ye’s mind instantly filled with faces of youths like Kong Lanting and Cui Xiaoyan—still unskilled in swordplay, yet brimming with passion, just like himself years ago.

“Oh,” he understood. “You mean I should go meet them?”

Qu Xin nodded. “Yes. You’re quite famous in the capital now, and your heart is kind—you’ll surely want to talk with them.”

He He Yaoyao watched the girl beside her, stunned—this girl spoke exactly like she recited her lines…

but the young master Pei didn’t see through her.

He seemed slightly pleased, smiling as he nodded: “That’s fine—as long as they recognize me.”

Qu Xin nodded. “They’ll definitely recognize you.”

Pei Ye smiled.

Since the New Year, over two months had passed without Pei Ye setting foot in the capital.

He knew he had made a name for himself last December, but he hadn’t truly felt the adulation then—he’d been summoned into the palace by Xu Chuo after the New Year, and had no idea what the outside world was saying.

So now, Pei Ye had no sense of being a celebrity; he felt pleasantly surprised—his reputation in swordplay could influence these juniors, who admired him yet dared not show it, while he offered them gentle advice—truly, the quiet, pure friendship of a gentleman.

What a refined and virtuous thing it was—like a literary elder uplifting the next generation.

He adjusted his sword at his waist and said: “Shall we go now? Lead me there.”

Qu Xin nodded and pointed. “Take her too.”

He He Yaoyao, thus pointed at, lowered her head and followed behind Pei Ye.

The garden was now scattered with figures and murmurs; Qu Xin made no pause, leading the two southward, gradually passing through trees and flowers, until the voices behind faded, and a spacious two-story pavilion appeared ahead.

Pei Ye thought he heard faint female chatter from within, but Qu Xin didn’t take him inside—instead, she circled far around and brought him to a side room.

Pei Ye looked curiously at the girl, but she didn’t pause; she opened the door and pulled him in.

The room was arranged in an intriguing way: swords lay on the table, swords hung on the walls—truly atmospheric… Qu Xin led him to the table and pressed him into a chair.

“… ”

“Sit here and wait. Don’t leave under any circumstances,” Qu Xin said seriously. “If you meet them all at once, they might feel shy and dare not speak their hearts. So I thought—let them come one by one to speak with you. That way, you can talk with each individually—don’t worry, there aren’t many.”

Pei Ye blinked, finding it odd but reasonable: “Fine… but do I really talk with every single one?”

He thought this would take forever.

“Mm,” Qu Xin replied indifferently. “It’s simple—just ask each one: ‘How did you hear of me?’ ‘Which of my sword forms do you like best?’ ‘Do you have any wishes?’—five questions, done. Oh, try to keep each meeting under half an hour—don’t take too long, or it’ll hurt efficiency.”

“… Oh.” Pei Ye was dazed.

… What efficiency?

He glanced down at the black cat in his hands; the cat looked at him with pity.

Qu Xin tilted her head, studying him, then suddenly

reached out to adjust his hairpin, straighten his sleeves and collar, and finally nodded in satisfaction: “Wait here—oh, come with me.”

She took He He Yaoyao’s hand and walked out.

With Qu Xin taking care of things, Cui Zhaoye was too lazy to get up, still sprawled on the terrace, staring at the now-empty pool, lost in thought.

Her eyes narrowed like a cat’s; truthfully, she didn’t want to find Pei Ye—the two ethereal figures above the pool had burned themselves into her mind, and now she resisted seeing the real boy, lest he shatter those jade-like images.

So when Qu Xin came up to speak, she barely listened.

“Chief Cui, I’ve brought Pei Ye and He He Yaoyao, but I’ve noticed a problem,” Qu Xin said. “Pei Ye doesn’t know about our Fellowship, nor does he realize how famous he’s become.”

“Mm.”

“Has Pei Ye ever been to a brothel?”

“… No. Why ask that?” Cui Zhaoye frowned.

Qu Xin said flatly: “Then he won’t be used to being surrounded by women. I’ve seen him flinch when I took off his pants.”

“… ”

Changsun Jue widened her eyes and covered her ears.

“Makes sense,” Cui Zhaoye nodded.

“To prevent him from being startled, growing angry, and taking it out on you, Chief Cui, and Miss Changsun, I’ve thought of a clever idea,” Qu Xin said.

Changsun Jue kept her eyes wide but lowered her hands: “What’s this got to do with me?”

Cui Zhaoye said: “Don’t interrupt—go on.”

“I suggest changing from group meetings to individual ones.”

“… ” Makes sense, Cui Zhaoye thought.

“That way, everyone gets to see the little duckling, and I can give them a few instructions afterward—so he won’t be frightened.”

Changsun Jue blinked: “What’s the little palace maid?”

“I mean little Pei Ye.”

“That’s not even the same pronunciation.”

Cui Zhaoye nodded in satisfaction, languidly: “Good idea. Take them, and if you handle this well, you’ll be vice-chief.”

Qu Xin said: “Thank you.”

She turned and descended the stairs, twenty-odd skirts fluttering in the hall.

Behind her stood He He Yaoyao; she lightly tapped the wooden railing, and every gaze turned to her.

“The arrangement we made earlier has now been fulfilled,” Qu Xin said, meeting dozens of bright eyes as if inspecting her kingdom. “Young Master Pei is waiting in the adjacent room. Those wishing to meet him, line up now—individual meetings, no barriers, ten taels per half-hour, plus two questions from He Zhenchuan.”

He He Yaoyao: “Huh?”

Colorful skirts and sashes surged like petals caught in the wind, like chattering birds—in the blink of an eye, they formed a long line filled with delighted exclamations.

And all looked at Qu Xin, the young master’s personal physician, with deep admiration: “Doctor Qu, you’re amazing!”

“Doctor Qu, I love you!”

“Doctor Qu, how’s Young Master Pei feeling? Hasn’t Yun Lang’s old man affected him?”

“Doctor Qu, Doctor Qu…”

Qu Xin spread her small notebook on the table, tapped its surface, and said calmly:

“Young Master Pei grew up orphaned and penniless; sometimes he can’t even afford decent clothes. Many friends told me they wanted to donate and support him. But Young Master Pei is upright and proud—he’ll refuse gold and silver outright if offered at first meeting, perhaps even feel insulted. So if you truly wish to help, please drop your offering into this basin—He He Yaoyao, bring that porcelain basin—then I’ll personally deliver it to him and persuade him to accept it.”

"Young Master Pei Ye grew up orphaned and penniless, sometimes unable to afford even decent clothing. Many friends and I have wished to donate and sponsor him, but Young Master Pei Ye is upright and proud; if strangers offer him gold or silver upon first meeting, he will firmly refuse—and may even feel insulted. So if you truly wish to help, please deposit your contribution into this basin—He Yaoyao, bring over the porcelain basin—I will personally deliver it to him and persuade him to accept it."

The first girl in line had tender eyes, now reddened; she clutched a small purse: “Doctor Qu, can one person really only give twenty taels? Can I give fifty?”

The second behind her said: “You can’t give that much—Doctor Qu, can I give Young Master Pei a sword besides the twenty taels? It’s one my father used when young…”

Qu Xin raised her hand: “Enough. No one may give more than twenty taels. But during this meeting, I’ll also release a new batch of Young Master Pei memorabilia—you can continue supporting him there.”

Qu Xin raised his hand: "Enough. Each person may donate only twenty taels. But alongside this meeting, I will also release a new batch of items and news about Young Master Pei Ye—you may continue supporting him through those."

“Next—Nan Yingzhi? Daughter of the Censor-in-Chief. Half-hour meeting, twenty taels. Go.” Qu Xin wrote.

"Come, first—Nan Yingzhi? Daughter of the Censor-in-Chief, met for half a moment, donated twenty taels. Go." Qu Xin wrote with his brush.

Nan Yingzhi walked out of the small pavilion, radiant with joy.

The dazzling scenery, the chirping birds—none stirred her pounding heart. The moment she stepped outside, the bright daylight nearly blinded her; only then did she realize it was her own blood rushing to her head.

Unlike many in the Fellowship who understood martial arts and could discuss sword forms, she knew nothing of the martial world—she’d joined out of curiosity after her classmates at the Imperial Academy told her of Young Master Pei’s debate on the Two Days Theory, and had sunk deeper and deeper ever since.

Standing here today felt like opening a new world; within an hour, she’d admired countless figures, awestruck by the dazzling swordlight—so much so she nearly forgot Young Master Pei.

Standing here today felt like opening a whole new world; within a mere hour, she had admired countless figures, awestruck by the dazzling ten thousand blades of light, her mind nearly forgetting Young Master Pei Ye.

All those thousand white sword-flashes vanished before the smiling figure above the pool.

Nan Yingzhi now truly believed attending the Tian Shan Sword Banquet was the most important decision of her life—only after seeing this brilliant world could she understand how extraordinary and upright Young Master Pei truly was.

Even more astonishing was the Fellowship’s presence of Doctor Qu—a master among masters.

She was Young Master Pei’s personal physician, bringing them so many of his belongings and news, and today even managed to bring him here for a meeting.

?? is Young Master Pei Ye’s personal physician, who has always brought us so many of his belongings and news—and today even managed to invite Young Master Pei Ye here in person.

Truly, a physician’s benevolent heart.

Truly, a healer’s benevolent heart.

The side room was right before her. At this moment, Nan Yingzhi remembered she was the first to meet Young Master Pei Ye, and her heart pounded even harder. Young Master Pei Ye was surely meeting everyone for the first time too—what would he look like up close? How would he speak… would he also be as noble and righteous as on the pond?

Pei Ye sat quietly in the side room.

He flipped through the sword manuals before him; the content was bizarre—mostly beginner textbooks and introductory sword principles—with no inkstone or brush nearby.

He glanced at the swords hanging on the wall; most had little collector’s value and hadn’t been used recently, as if recently moved from storage and hastily hung up.

He frowned, pondered for a moment, and came up with nothing. He sat back down at the table. The black cat’s clear emerald eyes met his.

“What are you staring at?”

“At a fool.”

Nan Yingzhi stood before the door, took several deep breaths, and carefully checked her attire once more. Then she pushed the door open with a creak.

In an instant, she held her breath: the entire room was hung with swords, intricate sword manuals filled shelves and desks, radiating an aura of lofty solemnity. At its center, the young man sat quietly leaning on the table, gazing tenderly at the small black cat.

“Y-Young Master Pei Ye,” she whispered timidly.

Pei Ye was surprised to find a girl—untrained, exquisitely dressed, and beautiful. But remembering Qu Xin’s earlier instructions, he knew some admired the sword path yet could not cultivate it. Thinking this, he smiled, rose, and bowed. “Pleased to meet you. I am Pei Ye. May I ask your name, young lady?”

“I—I’m Nan Yingzhi.” Her feet felt light as air; she stepped forward unconsciously and sat in the chair opposite Pei Ye’s desk.

She stared fixedly at him.

This man looked almost as nervous as He Yaoyao. Pei Ye thought oddly, then smiled. “Miss Nan, even if you cannot cultivate the sword, you may still appreciate its beauty. The ‘Discourse on Swordsmanship from the Washing Sun Pavilion’ says that sensing the sword is a universal human ability.”

Nan Yingzhi blinked slightly. “Mm… yes, that’s right. I—I feel your sword, Young Master Pei. It’s incredibly beautiful. My heart… my heart adores it deeply.”

“...Oh, thank you.”

“Mm.”

The room fell quiet again. Pei Ye thought for a moment and seized a topic. “Miss Nan, why couldn’t you learn the sword?”

“Ah… because I went to study. I’m currently enrolled at the National Academy.”

“Oh… the National Academy? I too had the fortune to read some books there. Later, when I have time, I might return—perhaps I’ll even need to ask for your guidance.”

Nan Yingzhi widened her eyes. “Really?! Really… is that possible?”

Pei Ye blinked. He thought: it was just polite small talk—what’s real or not? He paused. “If we meet, I might trouble you.”

“...” Nan Yingzhi felt as if walking on clouds.

The room fell quiet again. Pei Ye frowned inwardly. He thought: if I had the chance to consult a revered sword master, I’d talk endlessly—why does this person say so little, and just stare at me like this?

But he always played the role of keeping conversation alive. Now he didn’t know what to say—he couldn’t expand further on National Academy studies—so he recalled Qu Xin’s advice. This question suddenly seemed like a universal remedy. He smiled. “Miss Nan, how did you hear of me?”

Strangely, Nan Yingzhi seemed instantly at ease. Her eyes lit up, and she spoke without pause. “The first time I heard Young Master Pei Ye’s name was from a classmate at the National Academy. Later, I went to inquire and met… then I learned she also admired Young Master Pei Ye… after that… then… finally, I met Chairman Cui Zhaoye, who told me many things about Young Master Pei Ye.”

Oddly, Nan Yingzhi seemed to relax at once, her eyes brightening as she poured out: "I first heard Young Master Pei Ye’s name from a classmate at the National Academy. Later, I went to inquire and met... then discovered she too admired Young Master Pei Ye... after that... then... eventually I met Councilor Cui Zhaoye, who told me many things about him."

“...Of course.”

“Oh, then… which of my sword techniques do you like best?” This question made Pei Ye strangely embarrassed.

Nan Yingzhi’s eyes brightened again. “I love the one with wings growing from the back—that one…”

“That’s Feiyu Immortal. It’s the intent-sword of Shaolong Yufei Mountain.” Speaking of sword techniques, Pei Ye grew more at ease and explained the origins of Yufei Mountain.

“Mm, I know! That’s the sect of Little Master Li!”

"Mm, I know—that’s Young Master Li’s sect!"

How does she know everything? Pei Ye frowned.

“Then… do you have any wish?” Pei Ye asked his final question.

He found this question odd. Since everyone here admired the sword but could not cultivate it, their greatest wish would naturally be to learn the sword—but how could he fulfill such a wish?

Still, since Qu Xin had suggested it, and the first two questions had gone well, Pei Ye humbly accepted it.

And it proved surprisingly effective.

Pei Ye did not see the expected moment of stunned disappointment in the girl’s eyes. Instead, he saw those pupils sparkle with sudden joy.

“C-Can I… can I, Young Master Pei Ye?”

“...What’s there to stop you?”

“Then, Young Master Pei Ye,” she lowered her head, cheeks flushed like red apples, “may I… may I touch you?”

“...” Pei Ye froze. “Huh?”

“…” Pei Ye stared, “Huh?”