Chapter 100

Li Guanyi hadn’t expected it to be Xue Shuangtao playing the qin; seeing her smug expression, he was momentarily speechless, then softly clapped, saying plainly:

“Very beautiful.”

Xue Shuangtao had planned to startle Li Guanyi, but his straightforward answer made her slightly embarrassed; she lifted her fingers to twirl a strand of black hair at her temple and pouted: “Really? You’re good with words.”

“But don’t great scholars only know how to say these two words?”

Li Guanyi thought for a moment and replied:

“Those verses were all things I heard while traveling—not poems I wrote myself.”

“Besides, poetry always involves embellishment and technique.”

“Compared to that, I still think these two words best express how I feel.”

Xue Shuangtao’s cheeks flushed slightly.

It had been some time since they last met; she felt a flicker of annoyance, especially with her aunt’s amused gaze making her back feel uneasy. She hurried to her seat and sat down. After three rounds of wine, Imperial Consort Xue smiled and raised her tea cup: “I’m with child, so I won’t drink—but I’ve heard my Xue family’s qilin child still possesses the same talent as when he was young.”

“You learned to read and write at three, held a bow at five—now it’s been ten years.”

“Your father and brothers were strict with you; since I entered the palace, we’ve rarely seen each other. Today, we finally meet—no, no, you must write me another poem.”

Imperial Consort Xue spoke fondly of Li Guanyi’s past.

The youth realized that among the palace maids, there were likely eyes from other concubines—or even the Emperor himself. This was a deliberate move to use their spies to confirm his identity. He raised his cup with a smile: “If Aunt says so, then Guanyi must write one.”

Imperial Consort Xue was pleased by the youth’s wit and replied: “Good.”

“It’s still spring—use ‘Spring’ as your theme. Write a poem or a ci—whichever you prefer.”

“If you write well, Aunt has a gift for you.”

Imperial Consort Xue smiled faintly.

Li Guanyi thought carefully: he had previously used the personas of a celestial exile and Liu Sanbian; this time, he couldn’t reuse such high-level identities. He recalled a poem, raised his teacup, paced a few steps, and recited:

“Water is the gaze of eyes, mountains are brows gathered.”

“Where is the traveler headed?”

“To where brows and eyes shimmer.”

This ci likened Jiangnan’s mountains and waters to a beauty—its brushwork light and swift. But its true brilliance lay in the second half’s “ten thousand springs remain.” Li Guanyi hesitated, wondering how to revise the unsuitable lines, when a melodious laugh interrupted him.

The laugh was joyful, making Li Guanyi freeze—he wondered if the poem had some flaw—until he saw Imperial Consort Xue smiling warmly. Xue Shuangtao said: “Aunt, Li…”

She paused, remembering her aunt’s words and arrangement, then stammered:

“Does my cousin’s ci have any problem?”

The girl knew it was to protect Li Guanyi.

“A tall tree invites the wind’s wrath”—they were using the Xue family to shield him.

But saying “cousin” made her feel strangely uneasy, as if her skin prickled; her face flushed—not from shyness, but a strange, mortifying shame, like public humiliation before a friend. Yet Imperial Consort Xue laughed even harder.

She beckoned the girl closer, studying her niece in her red gown, exquisite and beautiful.

She extended a finger, smiling, pointing at the girl’s almond eyes:

“Water is the misty gaze.”

Her finger brushed the girl’s dark brows: “Mountains are brows gathered.”

Then she drew Xue Shuangtao close, pointing her finger toward the youth across the room, her smile full:

“If you ask where the traveler goes—”

Her finger traced an arc, finally resting on Xue Shuangtao’s eyes, smiling:

“To where brows and eyes shimmer.”

“Such a fine ci. A truly fine ci.”

Xue Shuangtao’s face turned bright red. She sprang up, wrenching free of her aunt’s arm, staring wide-eyed at Li Guanyi, stammering “Y-you—you…” for a moment, stomped her foot, and returned to her seat—drawing bursts of laughter from Imperial Consort Xue. Li Guanyi was stunned—he had never realized this ci could be interpreted this way.

Could it be said like this?

The youth instantly understood one thing.

Imperial Consort Xue was a seasoned flirt?

The rebellious girl who once rode horses in fine robes?

He turned his head and saw Old Man Xue Dao Yong’s mouth twitching. The face of the mighty tiger of the chaotic age had lost its former grandeur; he nearly raised his hand to cover his face, as if his family had suffered a great disgrace.

Imperial Consort Xue, still smiling merrily, clapped her hands: “Enough. Even this half-ci is a peerless masterpiece. Aunt will give you a fine gift. Good child. Good child. Go sit down.”

Li Guanyi sat quietly in place.

Xue Changqing showed boundless respect to this man who had once been his “distant cousin—the one who used to carry me, knew I wet the bed, then vanished into seclusion.”

The banquet’s flavors were exquisite; Li Guanyi thought sadly he couldn’t take any home.

Spring was ending; the temperature had risen. Even with fast horses, by the time it reached Yicheng, the taste would have changed. He wished his aunt could taste it too.

Suddenly, he felt someone kick him.

Li Guanyi turned slightly and saw the girl seated beside him extending her leg.

She gave him a sharp, angry kick.

Her face was flushed crimson, her almond eyes wide with fury.

Li Guanyi grimaced but ignored her—until her movements grew bolder, then he moved his wrist, gripping her ankle: “I didn’t mean it that way.”

But the young lady grew even angrier.

“So was ‘Furious waves rolled frost and snow’ just a coincidence?”

“How have you met so many great scholars?”

“And why do those great scholars know me?”

Li Guanyi felt he couldn’t explain himself even if he jumped into the river. Imperial Consort Xue, no longer dignified as at first meeting, now seemed like a wealthy household hostess. After the feast, she smiled: “It’s been so long since I last saw Father. And so long since we played go. Tonight, we must play several rounds.”

Xue Dao Yong sighed helplessly and followed his daughter to play go. Xue Shuangtao had planned to chat with Li Guanyi, but now, flustered and annoyed, she went to watch the game instead. Li Guanyi wandered into the palace courtyard, lifting his gaze to the sky.

The Seven Stars of Bai Hu had risen.

He focused his spirit, silently deducing the Qilin formation diagram. The *Huangji Jing Shi Shu* was extremely difficult to master. Li Guanyi was now inside the imperial palace; he looked up, identified the star patterns, and barely caught faint traces.

Bai Hu was in the heavens, located in the Western Courtyard.

Zhu Que was south, the palace complex north—the Four Symbols rotated; Qilin stood at the center.

Li Guanyi’s hand hung beneath his sleeve, swiftly calculating. His forehead grew pale. He relied entirely on his grasp of formations—he faintly sensed the location of the Qilin Palace—but as Zu Wenyuan had said, this formation was alive, constantly shifting.

He was confined within this palace, unable to change his form. The spot he pinpointed vanished the next second. It was like trying to hold water in a straw hat—every drop slipped away. Li Guanyi stared at the courtyard, knowing that beyond it lay the Great Dao and the palaces.

And no one was watching him now.

Yet after long silence, he gave up. Though entering the palace allowed him to deduce the formation and surely find the Qilin, the palace teemed with experts, the Imperial Guard, and the Jinwu Guard. If discovered, he might escape—but he’d drag Xue Lao down with him.

Just as he turned to return to the go game, he heard footsteps brushing past him.

“Hahaha, have those two waited too long? I was too entranced by the palace scenery.”

“My homeland is poor—out in the northern frontier and the Western Regions. I’ve never seen such splendor as Central Plains offers.” The voice carried a Tielei accent. Li Guanyi was startled, then saw eunuchs and guards escorting a man along the path outside the palace gate, torches blazing like daylight.

The young man being escorted had bronze skin and a towering frame.

It was the youth Li Guanyi had seen at the city gate—carrying a donkey. Li Guanyi stood at the gate; the youth’s gaze was sharp—he spotted him instantly, stopped, and his face lit up with surprise and delight: “Hah! It’s you!”

The eunuchs halted, startled. The youth did not enter the grounds of Imperial Consort Xue’s pavilion.

He merely waved at Li Guanyi, grinning: “Friend! You’re here too!”

“Did the Holy Emperor invite you for a night stroll?”

Li Guanyi replied: “I’m of the Xue family—my aunt is Imperial Consort. I came for the family banquet.” The eunuchs recognized the youth; their leader, the eunuch’s adopted son, was astonished.

The Tielei youth didn’t understand Central Plains etiquette.

In the palace, he’d met someone he’d seen before—and liked.

He was delighted, warmly inviting: “Since you’re here too, want to join me for a night stroll through the palace? The Holy Emperor specially decreed we may enjoy the scenery—he said Central Plains values moonlit flowers, lantern-lit views, with unique charm.”

“We meet again—what fate! Want to go together?”

Li Guanyi’s heart stirred.

He glanced at the eunuchs and guards: “The palace has strict taboos. I fear I cannot accompany you.”

The Tielei youth looked disappointed, asking the eunuch: “Truly not allowed?”

The eunuch hesitated.

The Emperor’s decree granted this youth wide leeway—he was no ordinary youth. Even if he desired a palace maid, he could be granted her as an honor. And this youth was a Xue family member—invited to the banquet.

Most importantly, his adoptive father, the senior eunuch, held this young captain in high regard.

So the eunuch hesitated only briefly, then raised a scroll of bright yellow silk, smiling: “The Emperor’s decree commands us to accommodate the Khan’s requests. This youth is our nation’s young hero—both literary and martial prowess surpass his peers, and he’s imperial kin. Naturally, no problem.”

Thus, the eunuch hesitated only briefly, then smiled while holding a scroll of bright yellow silk: “His Majesty’s decree states that the Khan’s requests must be fully accommodated; this young hero of our nation excels in both literature and martial arts beyond his peers, and is also imperial kin—naturally, there is no issue.”

The Khan was overjoyed and said, “Good brother!”

Li Guanyi turned to a palace maid and told her to inform Xue Lao, then turned back.

He had spent an hour deducing the formation in one spot.

Though the *Four Symbols Sealing Spirit Formation* was profoundly mysterious, alive and ever-changing, his deductions within the palace had yielded nothing. But as soon as he stepped outside, like breaking a stalemate in go, his aura shifted instantly.

Although the [Four Symbols Spirit-Sealing Array] was profoundly mysterious, alive in its motion, constantly shifting from start to finish, making Li Guanyi’s deductions within the palace futile, when he stepped out of it, like breaking a dead end in a game of weiqi, his aura changed instantly.

As if he had already perceived every point.

In that instant, he felt the ripples like a stone dropped into water—within three breaths, he pinpointed the Qilin Palace’s location. And as he confirmed its position, the entire *Four Symbols Sealing Spirit Formation* unfolded before his eyes.

Like fixing the formation’s core, all his past thoughts, studies, and insights suddenly clicked into place, alive and clear.

At the same moment, the youth gripped his arm, walking with him:

“I never thought you were imperial kin.”

I never expected you to be imperial kin.

Li Guanyi said: “I never expected you to be the khan of the Tielei Force.”

The young man laughed.

He instinctively reached for his waist to pat his blade.

But all weapons had been confiscated upon entering the palace.

Even Yuwen Lie, no matter how arrogant or fierce, no matter how much he despised the Emperor of Chen Guo, still had to surrender his weapons to enter—only the Prince of Puyang had ever been granted the privilege of entering the hall with sword and boots.

He awkwardly scratched his waist and said, “Don’t call me khan.”

“My surname is Qibi; my given name is the character for ‘strength.’”

“Our branch of the Tielei Force has dwindled to just a few thousand households—fewer than a single town in the Central Plains. Even in the Western Regions, we’re the tiniest tribe imaginable. That’s why we dared to come here seeking aid.”

“We suffered terribly under the Tuyuhun, treated like slaves.”

“Now the Tanguts are rising too—we can’t keep living as others’ slaves.”

“So we pooled our money, declared me khan, and sent me out.”

Li Guanyi chatted with Qibi Li as they gazed at the imperial palace under the night sky.

Yet in his heart, the entire palace had transformed into a vast, intricate array diagram—each step he took sent ripples through it; when the ripples struck another node, they rebounded, until finally, the entire array became utterly clear in the boy’s mind.

He stood on a node and sighed, “The view here is truly beautiful.”

Qibi Li looked around, puzzled—he didn’t find it particularly beautiful, but he wouldn’t contradict his friend, only laughed heartily: “It’s beautiful indeed!”

The eunuchs and guards had halted, watching the two men chat and admire the scenery.

Since they had stopped, the guards were glad for the rest.

Li Guanyi chatted with the khan of the Tielei Force.

His foot had finally landed on a mobile node.

His qi slipped sharply through the gaps in the array atop Qilin Palace, brushing against the core presence—its fierce divine aura erupted in rage, then instantly recognized the identity of the qi entering the array.

The rage vanished in an instant, replaced by shock.

“!!! Is it you?!”

The Qilin’s voice surged within Li Guanyi’s heart: “What are you doing here?! Were you captured?!”

“I’ve come to rescue you!”

“Don’t be afraid!”

Li Guanyi lowered his gaze and whispered softly in his heart: “No, I just slipped in.”

“Don’t stir up trouble, or I’ll be exposed.”

The Qilin’s violent aura calmed.

It sensed the great array could not locate Li Guanyi—the boy’s qi was too subtle. It fell silent, then murmured: “You’ve come here...” When it first met Li Guanyi, it had been ecstatic; now, it hesitated, even trembled with fear.

Near home, the heart grows timid—even divine beasts feel this.

After a long silence, it finally asked: “What is your name...”

The Tielei khan also smiled: “We haven’t even asked your name, brother?”

Li Guanyi spoke: “My name is Li Guanyi.”

The boy smiled:

“The ‘one’ in ‘one in ten thousand.’”

The Tielei khan merely praised: “What spirit!”

The Qilin’s aura surged violently.

The son of an old friend has come.

It seemed to see again that heroic youth.

The voice grew sorrowful; after a long pause, the Qilin’s tone hardened: “Good child.”

“Li Guanyi, don’t come here again.”

The Qilin’s aura suddenly dimmed; a strand of its essence, drawn from the Four Symbols Seal, shot toward Li Guanyi—he felt a warm presence awaken within him, the Qilin’s divine soul settling into his body.

This was a gift from itself.

A gift from the Qilin.

Such gifts usually dissipate slightly—but the bronze ding suddenly rang out on its own.

The entire divine aura flowed into the ding.

And upon the bronze ding, at the center between the dragon, tiger, phoenix, and tortoise, a fifth pattern slowly emerged!

Central Qilin!

Returned to its place!