Chapter 191: Moving House

The imperial capital, the Emperor’s Study.

White lanterns swayed gently beneath the eaves; the warm autumn light was blocked by a screen, and incense curled softly in the room.

Cao Fuer stood sideways by the door, arms crossed over his dust whisk, gazing toward the direction of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, where faint noises could be heard.

On the soft couch in the study, Crown Prince Zhao Jinghuan napped after lunch, still clutching a jade pendant carved with the Chongming Bird—also called the Double-Pupil Bird—symbolizing protection and auspiciousness.

This pendant had been gifted by his father-in-law, He Xiu; Zhao Jinghuan had loved birds and flowers since childhood, treasuring it endlessly, until his strict father, the Dry Emperor, seized it—only returning it to him a few days ago.

Zhao Jinghuan toyed with the pendant not for amusement, but to recall his closest kin, who had once been by his side since childhood but were now separated by life and death.

Perhaps thought breeds dream; half-asleep, half-awake, he seemed to see again his usually stern father.

The Dry Emperor, clad in dragon robes, sat beside the couch and spoke softly:

“Your father and mother live well in heaven—don’t worry about us…”

“From now on, you are the Emperor of Daqian. I wish to see the realm united and the people at peace—but alas, I never achieved this in my lifetime. This burden now falls to you.”

Zhao Jinghuan stared at his deceased father, so close, tears welling in his eyes:

“Your son will never fail your expectations, Your Majesty.”

The Dry Emperor smiled faintly, then added:

“Of all schools and sects, only Confucianism promotes royal virtue and moral governance, honors the sovereign and repels barbarians, and maintains proper order between high and low.”

“Immortals, Buddhas, warriors, shamans, and demons may have their righteous and evil branches, but their hearts are not in the world—they are in ‘heaven,’ seeking only personal enlightenment and escape from the cycle of rebirth…”

Half-dreaming, Zhao Jinghuan replied:

“Shall I ‘abolish all schools except Confucianism’?”

“Hmm.” The Dry Emperor waved his hand. “Too big a step—it will destabilize the state. You’re Fan Li’s student; discuss these matters with Fan Li and Mu Yunling.”

The familiar voice circled his ear, then vanished at some unknown moment.

Zhao Jinghuan suddenly awoke from his nap, realizing his departed loved one was gone—only a midday dream. He wiped the tears from his eyes, sat alone for a moment, then ordered:

“Fuer, make preparations. In the coming days, summon Mu Yunling of the Danyang Academy, Li Yanru of the Hualin Li family, and Xu Tong of the Jiangzhou Xu family to the capital—I wish to meet them.”

Cao Fuer, startled by the Crown Prince’s sudden summons of these major Confucian scholars, felt puzzled—but since the Prince would soon ascend the throne, conversing with Confucian masters on statecraft was perfectly reasonable. He nodded:

“Yes.”

…

—

Night fell. The mansion of the Marquis of Danyang on Zheng’an Street glowed with bright lanterns.

Xie Jin stood at the gate, seeing off his drunken friends—Fei Shu, Yang Dabiao, and others—then looked up toward the northern stars and moon.

After resolving the sect dispute at noon, Zhang Guan had retrieved the spoils from the abbot of Fanyun Temple—thirty-six drops of Vajra Dew.

Though it was only a minor victory, with the landlady who believed “no reason is no reason to throw a party,” celebration was mandatory; the new residence was nearly ready, so the group agreed: time to move.

Since the nation was still in mourning, such festivities couldn’t be grand. Duo Duo merely assigned servants and cooks from the Wang Fu to prepare a few home banquets at the new house.

He invited close acquaintances—Fei Ji, Yang Dabiao, Liu Qing—and had Lin Wanyi, Zi Su, Qing Mo, and others dine separately in the inner quarters. He’d also wanted to bring Ice Block to meet the girls.

But Ice Block was busy and nowhere to be found—something of a pity.

Xie Jin, though seemingly alone in the world with only one large Meiqiu, felt deeply moved by the number of friends who came to support him. He spared no expense, setting out more than a dozen jars of Hero’s Tears on the table, urging Fei Shu and the others to drink freely.

Now, after three rounds of wine, guests had departed. Xie Jin couldn’t help thinking of his old man, serving as an official far to the north.

If the old man had been here today, the atmosphere would’ve been far livelier. What was he doing right now…?

After pondering thus, Xie Jin returned to the main mansion and walked to the lakeside in the inner quarters.

There stood a teahouse by the lake, but the landlady had converted it into an “entertainment room,” lined with treasure shelves holding dice cups, musical instruments, and other amusements.

In the center lay a velvet carpet, with a large nanmu table large enough for a dozen girls to gather around it, now piled high with appetizers and snacks, surrounded by cushions.

The landlady still wore mourning attire, unadorned yet dazzlingly beautiful, seated beside the main position, playing dice with Du Shou Yaoniang—one of the “Twin Beauties of the Academy”:

“Four, five, six!”

“Heehee~ Three sixes!”

“Huh?”

Lin Zi Su was dressed especially beautifully today: her pale blue ruqun accentuated her budding figure, her hair braided by her aunt into an ethereal style adorned with tiny flowers. She was gambling with the Princess—and whether she’d taken some drug to heighten her senses or not, she was winning far more than losing.

Wanyi sat beside her, wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, her bun elegant and composed. She’d somehow acquired a butterfly hairpin to pin her hair up, and with her dignified bearing, she looked every bit a senior lady—likely to prevent the mischievous girl from slipping in some poison and throwing a wild, unseemly party, she kept her eyes fixed on Zi Su’s hands.

Duo Duo had been playing the pipa and watching the scene, but when she spotted him, her eyes lit up. She pouted and gestured toward the side.

Seeing this, Xie Jin didn’t disturb their refined merriment. He turned and entered the main chamber.

The main chamber had two stories, with a double-height hall in the center, bearing a plaque inscribed “Upright Gentleman.” To either side were study, bedroom, and bath chambers.

Beneath the plaque now stood a weapon rack, holding a nine-foot spear horizontally, flanked by two sword stands displaying the Tian Gang Jian and the Zheng Lun Jian.

Xie Jin glanced around, then heard movement on the second floor to the east. He climbed the stairs and found an empty room furnished with a cat tree, wicker balls, a small swing, and treasure shelves filled with dried meat and fish.

Even the wall bore a painting of a “Bird Immortal” wearing a conical hat and cloak—clearly the landlady’s handiwork.

Meiqiu, having never seen such extravagant luxury in her life, likely felt she had no further desires. She sat atop the cat tree, staring blankly, lost in thought.

Linghu Qing Mo, unable to hold her liquor, had wandered the house with Meiqiu to sober up. Now she stood nearby, studying her friend’s handiwork.

Since she’d come for the housewarming party and was pleasantly surprised, Qing Mo had naturally “dressed to please the one she loved”—wearing a flowing white gown, her long black hair half-bunned, the rest cascading down her back, adorned with the hairpin he’d given her, and jade bracelets on her wrists. Her silhouette was tall, graceful, ethereal.

Xie Jin tiptoed behind her, took a quiet look, then:

Pah—

“Huh?!”

Linghu Qing Mo startled, spun around—and was immediately silenced. Her eyebrows shot up; she wanted to zap this lecher.

But remembering their current relationship, she held back. Instead, she stepped back a pace, frowning:

“Aren’t you supposed to be entertaining guests? Why are you here? I was just showing Meiqiu around…”

Seeing Qing Mo wasn’t angry, Xie Jin decided to press further. He pinched her fair cheek:

“Dare to scold me again? Do you think I won’t go to Zixuan Mountain and complain?” Linghu Qing Mo feared this most—she suspected even her master no longer sided with her. Her face flushed red; she tried to flee:

“I didn’t scold you. I’m going to the teahouse…”

“Hmm~”

Xie Jin grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the corridor:

“I put in real effort today. Can’t you show me some appreciation?”

Linghu Qing Mo tugged her wrist, but couldn’t pull free, so she let him hold it. After a moment’s thought:

“Hmm… you fought well today. Congratulations.”

“And then?”

“And then…”

Linghu Qing Mo knew what Xie Jin wanted. After a brief hesitation, she crept closer, then, in a flash, kissed his cheek.

“Happy now?”

Xie Jin shook his head and walked to the window, gazing out at the garden and small lake.

Linghu Qing Mo, unable to escape his grip, stood beside him on the second-floor window, feeling the breeze. After a moment of silence, noticing he wasn’t speaking, she stole a glance at his stern profile:

“What are you thinking about?”

“Waiting for you to lean on my shoulder.”

“?”

Linghu Qing Mo’s gaze turned cold; she turned her head away, refusing. But after a tense pause, this annoying brother just stood there, holding her wrist, refusing to let her go.

Helplessly, Linghu Qing Mo subtly tilted her head, resting her cheek against his shoulder, her gaze serious—as if pondering the slaying of demons and monsters…

…

Meanwhile, on the rooftop far from the mansion.

Nangong Ye, dressed in a black dress and veiled hat, peered slightly over the ridge, watching the white-clad man and woman leaning together by the window. She felt she’d arrived at the wrong moment.

After finishing matters at the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, she naturally had to meet with Zhang Guan and others. Once done, she returned to Fengyi River to tidy up—but by nightfall, he still hadn’t come.

With the final duel against the demon girl coming at month’s end, she couldn’t afford to dally with him, so she came to check on him—only to find her disciple and Huang Mao blissfully entwined.

Seeing the young couple’s innocent affection, Nangong Ye’s gaze grew complex. She nearly left.

But Xie Jin’s housewarming party—she could skip the meal, yet she had to at least offer her congratulations.

So she chose to wait in the shadows, hoping for an opportunity—and what she saw astonished her.

She watched Qing Mo and this man sweetly close at the window—when suddenly, a stunningly beautiful woman with spectacles appeared outside the main chamber, pretending to admire the view, but actually hunting for the rival who stole her man. She crept upstairs, then paused behind them:

“Ahem~”

Qing Mo, startled, straightened up—but seeing it was only Lin, she didn’t back down. Instead, she said:

“Lin the Physician, did you drink too much and come to sleep? The bedroom’s in the west wing.”

Lin’s eyebrows shot up. She stepped forward, clearly ready to fight.

But Xie Jin, ever composed, found himself trapped between two women—and instead of panicking, he raised his hand:

“Wanyi, you’ve arrived just in time. The view here is lovely…”

“The Princess is your guest—you leave her to come here? Hey hey…”

“Xie Jin! You… let go!”

Two girls, one on each side, were held in the white-clad young master’s arms, each kissed on the cheek. Even as he pinched their waists and stepped on their toes, they neither complained nor resisted—only blushed furiously, eyes shut, trying to hide.

Nangong Ye watched from afar, her phoenix-like eyes flickering with faint disdain as she muttered under her breath:

“Such a proper gentleman! How does he turn into this around girls?”

But it wasn’t over. After this affectionate moment, the shy Qing Mo couldn’t bear it any longer and fled to find her friend for protection.

Lin, too, tried to escape—but failed. She was lifted into his arms and carried into the room, windows shut.

“Xie Jinhuan! There are guests at home...”

“I won’t act out...”

“I don’t believe you...”

Crackling, popping...

Since there truly were guests at home, this boy clearly dared not be too reckless, and soon emerged—but his movements were unmistakably swift.

The beautiful Lin Wanyi stepped out, dazed, cheeks flushed, muttering softly under her breath, yet clearly enjoying herself...

Nan Gongye’s gaze was deeply strange; he longed to leave right then, but this boy kept pulling out new tricks!

When they returned to the tea hall, Xie Jinhuan picked up his pipa and began playing Daqian Electric Sound.

Ding ding ding~~

Zhao Ling was dragged by Duo Duo into dancing; Mo Mo, the Immortal Zisu, was pulled up too; finally, even Lin Da was forced to join in, and Meiqiu ran over to perform a shamanic dance—the tea hall erupted into a frenzy of demonic revelry:

“Gujiji gugugeda...”

“Yes, move bigger, Wanyi, don’t be shy—look at Mo Mo...”

“Wow~ Xie Lang is no doubt Empress Guo’s favorite—just look at him, who wouldn’t be bewitched...”

“Zisu! Don’t say such things...”

Nan Gongye, witnessing this scene, took a deep breath and silently sighed:

Can you dance even more wildly?

Witch cult’s Yao male, Northern Zhou’s favorite...”

Even the playboys of Jingcheng couldn’t pull off anything this extravagant...

Though the image of the righteous young hero lay in shreds, this spectacle, honestly, was far more restrained than what this boy had done to her.

Nan Gongye felt his head buzzing; he recited the Calming Mantra countless times before quelling his distractions, and resolved inwardly: today, he would no longer indulge this boy—maximum, just a touch with his hand.

He’s only eighteen or nineteen, and already this wild—when he one day stands atop the peaks, won’t he become the ‘Hehuan Patriarch’?

No, it should be the ‘Jinhuan Patriarch.’

This boy’s name was chosen with remarkable finesse—no one knows whose hand it was...

(End of Chapter)