Chapter 100: A Pair of Eyes Beneath a Straw Hat: How About a Wager?
Lu Yu chuckled at the account of the Great Emperor of the Purple Microcosm’s reign and the Daoist’s flight.
His laughter echoed through the empty temple, strikingly clear.
You felt a quiet resignation, having already pieced together the general outlines of the fish-belly letter and the celestial stone tablet incidents.
This journey to the capital, you thought, would surely bring more complications.
You might even get to see some old acquaintances.
Since entering the temple, the two of you had remained silent, your hats concealing your faces, and now all eyes turned to you.
The woman in the green skirt’s eyes lit up, as if she’d finally found an opening to speak.
She turned to you and asked quickly, “May I ask what your views are?”
Lu Yu waved his hand and said no more.
But the woman in green clearly had no intention of letting you off so easily; she pressed on, “Do you two have some hidden meaning? Are you also heading to the capital?”
The woman in green was named Su Ziyin.
Su Ziyin’s father was Deputy Commander of the Yuetangjiang Garrison, commanding four to five thousand troops, holding a key military post—a true local magnate.
Her family’s legacy spanned three generations along the Yuetangjiang, capable of assembling ten thousand soldiers when needed.
A household of wealth and privilege, yet their only daughter had not been spoiled—her family’s discipline was strict.
That was why she could so easily converse with two scholars of utterly different backgrounds.
Not a trace of arrogance!
Su Ziyin was sharp-minded; the young man across from her playing chess was transparent to her—merely putting on a show.
By comparison, her own brothers had far deeper cultivation, and at least their wives were utterly devoted.
The eldest son inherited the family’s legacy; the second was groomed as his successor; the rest received family resources and were left to develop according to their own talents.
Spy on his cousin?
Su Ziyin shook her head—A toad wants to eat swan meat!
Her cousin’s father was a Martial Arts Grandmaster, and rumor had it her cousin could surpass him.
Yet over the years, she had never seen her cousin train or fight.
Her cousin’s family stood in the martial world; the two families were true lifelong allies, and her cousin’s father had once been Su Ziyin’s father’s personal guard. Still, she and her cousin never got along.
Her cousin was also heading to the capital!
Su Ziyin had come today to see her cousin off, merely to take a walk and clear her mind—she never expected a downpour.
Her father and uncle, summoned by some important figure, had left in haste, leaving only her and her cousin sheltering in the ruined temple.
Though it was a ruined temple, her father had not worried for her safety; he had even reassured her, “With your cousin beside you, no ordinary person can harm you.”
Besides, the temple was close to Yuetangjiang City—less than an hour’s gallop away—another reason her father felt comfortable leaving her there.
Yet Su Ziyin’s thoughts were not on the rain.
She had been watching the middle-aged man wearing a straw hat.
When he first entered, he had glanced up.
In that instant!
Su Ziyin had seen it clearly.
The man had walked into the temple through the thunderstorm, and beneath his hat—those eyes she could not describe—brilliantly bright, yet calm and piercing.
As if they could see through the heart, penetrate all things in the world.
She could not forget them.
She had never seen such eyes—unshakably firm, yet gentle.
Even her father, high-ranking and long accustomed to power, had never possessed such eyes—eyes that seemed to understand all human nature, as if the entire world lay within his grasp.
Her heart overflowed with curiosity: what kind of life, what kind of person…
Could have shaped such eyes?
And who exactly was this middle-aged man beneath the straw hat?
Su Ziyin’s thoughts drifted to tales of scholars and beauties; in her mind arose the image of a destitute scholar meeting a noble lady in a ruined temple—“One meeting under autumn wind and jade dew surpasses all else in the mortal world.”
Sorrow, joy, separation, reunion, parental opposition—truly moving!
Su Ziyin smiled faintly: the noble lady’s identity was certain, but the figure across from her was hardly the destitute scholar.
The ruined temple matched the tale, yet sadly, there was no true meeting.
The middle-aged man showed no interest in her at all—not even in her beautiful cousin or the lovely woman beside her.
He had not so much as glanced their way.
You did not answer Su Ziyin’s question.
The rain gradually lessened; you gazed outside and smiled at the others, “The rain has eased. You may set out now.”
Your gaze returned to the green-robed Daoist at the door—this Grandmaster had clearly come prepared, and would not let this go.
Lu Yu’s voice echoed in your ear, “Brother, that white-robed woman is unusual. Though she has not deeply cultivated, she possesses Grandmaster-level power.”
“I didn’t notice before, but just now, her emotions stirred—I sensed it.”
“Over the years, I’ve met many such people on the mountain. They don’t cling to conventional cultivation, yet they cultivate spiritual energy directly.”
“Young Five, Yang Su, is one of them. Had I not deliberately suppressed his major acupoints and waited years to fully forge his tendons and bones, he would have already reached Grandmaster rank. Given time, becoming a Great Grandmaster is merely a matter of time.”
You nodded slightly. Among Lu Yu’s seven disciples, Yang Su had the highest talent.
You had heard Lu Yu mention such gifted individuals—rare as one in a million.
Master Jinchan had combed ancient texts, which recorded that before Heaven’s Collapse, such people were called “Immortal Masters” or “Dao Bodies.”
Back then, once such a person was found below the mountain, they were taken up to cultivate and became the awe of the world.
Now, with spiritual energy returning, such people naturally begin cultivating spiritual energy—even without orthodox methods—and over time, can reach Grandmaster-level power.
But the drawback is the lack of orthodox cultivation techniques; they rely entirely on instinct, and eventually, spiritual energy ravages their meridians, causing premature aging.
Their five viscera and six bowels swell with energy, yet without cultivation acupoints, they end up with chronic illness.
Still, in speed, strength, and agility, they surpass ordinary people, rivaling Grandmaster-level martial artists.
At this moment!
The green-robed Daoist at the door gazed toward the distant clouds and rain; thunder rumbled, yet the raindrops had thinned.
The rain curtain on the horizon seemed to evaporate, turning into wisps of mist.
The green-robed Daoist stepped slowly into the temple, his gaze sweeping over everyone, a faint smile on his lips.
“Why not make a wager with me?” he said softly.
“The stakes are life and death.”
At this, you frowned slightly; the others in the temple looked bewildered.
The white-robed woman’s eyes flickered!
The burly man with the sword sensed danger instinctively, gripped his hilt tightly, and edged closer, feigning calm, “What nonsense are you spouting, Daoist!”
But the green-robed Daoist merely stepped forward and lightly tapped the man on the shoulder.
The man instantly spun like a windmill caught in a gale, turning once through the air.
Then he crashed to the ground, face-down, unable to rise again.
The sword-wielding man’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“G…Grandmaster!”
(End of Chapter)
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