Chapter 94: Leisurely Tapping the Stone, Four Enter the Temple

You and Lu Yu found a corner in the temple and sat down.

Four people sat before a bonfire in the temple: two men and two women.

Two men dressed as scholars, one fat and one thin, chatted merrily with the white-robed woman, who remained cold and silent, eyes closed in contemplation.

Beside the white-robed woman sat another woman dressed in green.

One white, one green.

The white-robed woman was especially beautiful; even this dilapidated temple could not dim her radiance.

The two scholars tried steering the conversation toward her, but she remained unmoved, offering no reply.

The green-robed woman, however, chatted merrily with the scholars, her clear laughter occasionally ringing through the quiet temple.

As you two entered the temple, the white-robed woman maintained her cold detachment, ignoring your arrival entirely.

The two scholars merely glanced at you once, then returned to their conversation.

The green-robed woman, however, was different—her gaze lingered briefly on you.

Yet.

Seeing that you two had no intention of speaking, and sat quietly in place, she soon withdrew her gaze and resumed her lively chatter with the scholars, though her voice grew slightly louder.

The two scholars, seemingly bored, pulled from behind a large bamboo chest a chessboard and two lacquered boxes of black and white stones.

“Let’s play chess to pass the time.”

Upon hearing this, the green-robed woman eagerly offered to watch and cheer.

The white-robed woman remained unchanged.

In southern Daqing, playing go was a refined pastime, and there was a famous saying: “Leisurely tapping the stone, petals fall from the lamp.”

The temple once again echoed with the soft clack of stones being placed.

Outside, the rain intensified, and you began to worry about tomorrow’s journey.

The water level of Yuetangjiang would surely rise due to this storm, making the crossing far more difficult.

You might have to travel another hundred li upstream, taking a longer detour to the capital—but that would mean a full day’s delay.

As soon as the rain stops, we must press on.

As you pondered, Lu Yu’s voice whispered in your ear: “Brother, that man outside has formidable cultivation—he may have reached the Grand Master realm.”

You nodded slightly; with your ability to read people, you could not discern the green-robed Daoist’s exact cultivation depth.

But you sensed beneath his calm demeanor a hidden, fierce killing intent.

Such intensity of killing intent you had seen only in a few generals of the army, known for their ruthless brutality—men like “Thousand Killers” and “Hundred Slayers.”

To cultivate such killing intent in the martial world was no feat of ordinary men.

Yet!

What startled you was Lu Yu’s ability to transmit his voice via spiritual energy—inaudible to others.

He had condensed his voice into a thread using spiritual energy.

Indeed, realms beyond Grand Master had already surpassed ordinary understanding.

In this remote mountain shrine, you had encountered a Grand Master-level cultivator.

There was no such thing as mere coincidence in this world.

He was likely here for you.

You glanced again at the green-robed Daoist outside, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Who was this man?

Daqing officially had only four Grand Masters, did it not?

Before long!

Four more people suddenly entered the temple, shattering its quiet.

An old man, a youth, a beautiful woman, and a sword-wielding giant.

All four entered together.

The old man wore a Confucian robe with an air of dignity; beside him walked a boy with rosy lips and white teeth, about sixteen or seventeen, the two moving in sequence like master and disciple.

Next came a beautiful woman in red, her clothes soaked by rain, accentuating her graceful figure—drawing the scholars’ eyes, their gazes growing hot.

Last to enter was the sword-wielding giant, whose sharp eyes swept over the green-robed Daoist at the door, noting his clean pant legs and spotless shoes—clearly, he had entered before the rain began.

Of the four temple occupants, the two scholars carried scholar’s chests—they were candidates for the autumn metropolitan examination, likely bound for the capital, now not far away.

The two women, however, were curious—such delicate frames dared to venture here.

Yet in the martial world, the elderly, women, and children always demanded extra caution.

The sword-wielding giant glanced at you two, but seemed unconcerned.

Lu Yu’s cultivation was unfathomable, far beyond ordinary mortals—perhaps only a handful in the world could discern his true depth.

You yourself had reached the twelfth layer of the Great Huangting, your qi profound and far surpassing ordinary Zongshi ; your aura was tightly concealed, invisible to all but Grand Masters.

Yet you could instantly see through the sword-wielding warrior’s realm—he was not a Zongshi , but a true top-tier martial artist, formidable indeed.

In Daqing, Zongshi -level cultivators were rare; those who commanded respect in a county or prefecture were already exceptional.

The old man stepped slowly into the temple, his gaze falling on the chessboard before the scholars, a flicker of delight in his eyes.

He turned to the pouring rain outside, then back to the scholars, smiling: “Gentlemen, the rain is heavy—may I join your game?”

The two scholars were fellow townsfolk, well-acquainted with each other’s skill; the thin scholar was the stronger player, and finding the old man’s challenge amusing, he readily agreed.

The handsome youth behind the old man smiled faintly.

The scholars’ eyes kept glancing toward the red-clad beauty.

Zhijian

The beautiful woman bent slightly, her curves accentuated, carefully wiping a long bench and placing a clean silk cloth upon it.

The thin scholar and the old man began their game; the elder kindly invited the thin scholar to move first.

Yet within mere dozens of moves, the thin scholar began scratching his head and pacing—clearly trapped in thought, making blunder after blunder.

The handsome youth had foreseen this outcome.

He knew well his uncle-grandfather, who was also his master, possessed extraordinary go skill—renowned across Daqing as a national master; few on the board could best him.

Thus, after glancing at the board, he shifted his attention—his gaze drawn to the white-robed woman sitting quietly in contemplation by the fire.

She sat still, only the faint flutter of her white robes dancing in the firelight, stirring the heart.

Though the green-robed woman was also lovely, with subtle charm in her eyes, she paled beside the white-robed woman.

In this humble mountain shrine, such a beauty was astonishing.

Even he, who had bedded countless women, could not help but be awed.

True beauty lies in the bone, not the skin—the white-robed woman’s ethereal spirit was what truly stirred him.

The white-robed woman possessed it all.

The handsome youth, raised in a great family, understood the principle: “A beauty’s favor is heavy.”

A refined man once said: “Chasing beauty is like fishing—you need bait, you must tire the fish, then slowly reel it in, and only after securing it may you train it.”

He understood: to pursue such a woman,

One must not rush.

The thin scholar resigned, but the old man remained calm, slowly reviewing the game with him.

The thin scholar felt ashamed—he had boasted of his skill moments ago, hoping to impress the two women.

Yet he lost so quickly!

Especially with the green-robed woman’s mocking expression and the white-robed woman’s indifference—his pride burned, yet after the review, he still could not see a path to victory; the old man’s skill far surpassed his.

The handsome youth smiled.

He stepped forward and said:

“Uncle-grandfather, let me face this gentleman—you’re being a bit too harsh.”

The old man smiled warmly: “Very well, very well.” He rose and yielded his seat.

The handsome youth sat down.

The green-robed woman’s beautiful eyes fixed on the youth, clearly intrigued.

He returned her smile, composed and graceful.

The thin scholar’s gaze darkened subtly.

Outside, the wind and rain whispered softly.

The fat scholar, worried his friend’s defeat would embarrass him, opened a new topic:

“Last night’s storm flooded Yuetangjiang—countless fish and shrimp washed ashore on both banks. Truly spectacular.”

The green-robed woman, seemingly local, replied coolly: “Every flood season is like this—what’s so strange?”

“Those who chase the tide catch the rush fish—that’s where the real excitement lies.”

Many who chase the tide are swept away by the current—mostly strong swimmers.

Truly: “The best swimmers drown in water!”

The fat scholar nodded in agreement.

Then, lowering his voice mysteriously under the firelight, he continued:

“Of course, that’s not strange—but someone cut open a fish’s belly and found a note inside!”

(End of Chapter)