Chapter 72: Dream Transmission of the Dao

Outside the Princess’s mansion.

Yang Dabiao and others were fully armed and ready, waiting outside the mutton soup shop, while Meiqiu squatted beside them, begging for alms.

Linghu Qingmo, upon learning that Xie Jinhuan was heading to the capital, could not sit still; she abandoned her friend, packed her belongings early, and waited with the group.

Lin Wanyi waited alone in the courtyard, meticulously wiping tables and chairs, glancing frequently toward the gate to see if Xie Jinhuan had returned.

After waiting an indeterminate length of time, a figure leapt over the wall and landed atop the main house’s roof, clutching a garment in his arms.

Huh~

Lin Wanyi hurried forward and noticed Xie Jinhuan holding a rank token; her eyes widened in surprise:

“Did the Dan King appoint you to an official post? What position?”

Xie Jinhuan placed the garment on the table:

“Guard of the Imperial Marriage Office, specifically assigned to protect the Princess.”

Lin Wanyi picked up the token, examined it, and frowned:

“The Princess is already an expert martialist—why would she need your protection? The Dan King must be trying to take you as a son-in-law. With this token, you can enter the Dan King’s Pavilion and study the Martial Scripture without anyone stopping you…”

Xie Jinhuan sat down on a chair and sighed:

“Just now, I inquired about the Martial Scripture…”

“And? Did they give it to you?”

“They did give it to me—but…”

Xie Jinhuan explained in detail the problems: it contained only the first level, required first-rank cultivation to comprehend, could not be learned, and could not be copied.

Since joining the Crescent Moon Manor, Lin Wanyi had worried for years over the Martial Scripture; upon hearing this devastating news, she felt as if struck by lightning:

“Are you certain? Don’t fool me…”

“Why would I fool you?”

Xie Jinhuan sat on the Luohan couch and gently comforted her:

“The Princess’s jade pendant—you dare not give it to the Witch Cult, or we’ll both be finished. The only viable path now is to wait until both of us reach first rank. With my strength, I won’t take more than three years. As for you…”

Lin Wanyi knew her limits: to reach first rank within three years, she’d have to become a Zhajingyaonv , using the Witch Cult’s dual-cultivation secrets to drain Xie Jinhuan as a supplement—sustained exploitation, like draining a pond dry.

But even if she reached first rank, Xie Jinhuan would become medicinal residue—and the plan would still fail.

Realizing she was trapped, Lin Wanyi naturally grew aggrieved:

“So you’re saying you can’t give me the full Martial Scripture within three years, and no one else can teach it to me either?”

That was exactly what Xie Jinhuan meant.

But if he crushed all her hopes, she might cut off her support.

He still needed Dragon Blood Pills, Vitality Elixirs, and other divine substances—he couldn’t afford to lose Lin the Beauty, his financial patron. He now found himself in a bind.

Fortunately, he still had a female elder ancestor nearby who could assist at critical moments.

As Xie Jinhuan pondered his strategy, the red-clad ghost wife appeared behind him and sat beside Lin Wanyi:

“I’ve seen the cultivation technique. I can teach it to you, but it’s complicated—she’ll need considerable time to memorize it…”

…

Lin Wanyi waited for Xie Jinhuan’s reply, but noticed he had drifted off again, staring past her; she grew suspicious and turned her head:

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

Xie Jinhuan withdrew his gaze and, after a moment, spoke solemnly:

“There is a way to transmit this technique. My master once taught me a secret art that might apply here.”

Lin Wanyi’s eyes lit up; she leaned closer:

“What secret art?”

Xie Jinhuan listened to his ghost wife’s explanation and elaborated:

“It’s similar to ‘Dream Transmission of the Dao’—I’ll transmit the technique to you through dreams…”

“But you can’t understand it yourself.”

“Well… I can’t grasp its meaning, but I remember its content—I can definitely transmit it to you. Yet the Martial Scripture is too profound; memorizing it will be difficult, requiring much time. And without first-rank or higher cultivation, even if you memorize it, you won’t be able to learn it—or teach it to others.”

Lin Wanyi had never heard of “Dream Transmission of the Dao,” but her master was deeply accomplished; if she could memorize it, she’d surely find a way to obtain it…

But…

Lin Wanyi suddenly felt something was off:

“Dream Transmission of the Dao… so I’d have to sleep with you?”

“?”

Xie Jinhuan’s gaze sharpened—he hadn’t considered that. He glanced sideways at the ghost wife beside him.

Ye Hongshang responded bluntly:

“I’ll sleep with her. Your presence as a pendant is irrelevant.”

How can I not be there?

If I’m not there, this’ll turn into a girls’ love story…

Xie Jinhuan replied solemnly: “Essentially. But we just need to share a room—no need to share a blanket.”

“… ”

Lin Wanyi hesitated. After all, a man and woman sharing a room—could anything untoward happen?

Just two days ago, Xie Jinhuan dared kiss and touch her; who knew what he’d do then?

But she had no other way to obtain the Scripture. After brief consideration:

“When… when will you begin transmitting the technique?”

Xie Jinhuan was eager to head to the capital to hunt and boost his economy; he asked:

“We only have the first level now—are you in a hurry? If not, we can wait a month or so…”

Lin Wanyi had searched for years; even the first level would suffice to report back—better to obtain it as soon as possible to avoid complications.

Besides, if she had to sleep with him anyway, delaying a year or two wouldn’t change that.

“Hmm… it’s up to you. Whenever you give me the technique, I’ll order herbs from the Southern Frontier for you. And I’ve seized all of Zi Su’s pills—you won’t get a single one from her.”

“?”

Are you trying to kill me?

Xie Jinhuan urgently needed Zi Su’s pills; hearing this, he panicked:

“I still have to go to the capital to investigate cases—demonic matters can’t wait. Why don’t you go home? It’s not far. I’ll handle official business by day and come at night to transmit the technique—no conflict.”

Beyond Huaijiang lies the Jingzhao Prefecture; traveling the canal with favorable winds, you reach the capital in half a day.

Lin Wanyi considered briefly and nodded: “Fine… you go ahead. I’ll return to make arrangements. Come to Lin Manor on Changle Street tomorrow night—come quietly, and don’t make us look suspicious again in the capital.”

“Alright. Hurry back and pack. Leave a door open for me tomorrow night—I’ll slip in quietly.”

“?”

Lin Wanyi found his phrasing odd and said nothing further…

—

Nightfall, Jingzhao Prefecture.

“Yah…”

Clip-clop, clip-clop…

Five fine steeds galloped along the road, three county constables following behind; at the front rode Xie Jinhuan and Mo Mo, with Meiqiu crouched on the saddle, homesick.

As the sun set behind Mount Riluoxi, the majestic city, surrounded by three rivers, appeared on the horizon.

Xie Jinhuan had lived in Luojing for sixteen years; logically, he should have been accustomed to the capital’s splendor, yet upon seeing this metropolis of over two million again, his eyes still flickered with awe.

Night had just fallen; thousands of streets and alleys glowed with lanterns. Carriages and fine horses filled the roads, young nobles and ladies strolled everywhere. Towering buildings and jeweled pavilions stretched endlessly toward the sky, interwoven with aerial walkways and skybridges—seen from afar, they resembled a celestial capital.

Yang Dabiao had once served in the capital and still carried nostalgia in his gaze; he warned his men along the way:

“The capital isn’t Danyang. Throw a stone and you might hit two seventh-rank officials. Once inside, behave yourselves. Anyone who causes trouble—I’ll peel their skin off.”

“Understood…”

Linghu Qingmo, seeing they were nearly there, turned to ask:

“Xie Jinhuan, do we go to the county office first, or pay respects to the Crown Prince first?”

The Crown Prince she referred to was Zhao De, the Dan King’s heir, who had some fame in Danyang; rumors even claimed he was the son of House Manager Hou…

Too absurd to be true, the Dan King feared he might kill his own son, so he’d sent Zhao De to the capital two years ago.

Xie Jinhuan had left early and knew nothing of Zhao De’s story; he only knew he’d be staying at the Prince’s mansion in the capital. He thought a moment and replied:

“It’s still early. Let’s go to the government office first.”

“Alright…”

…

—

Buzheng Street, Wanan County Office.

County Magistrate Wu Yuanhua sat beside a tea table, reviewing documents sent from Danzhou, his brow furrowed with sighs:

“They say a girl changes greatly after eighteen, but boys do too. The last time I saw Xie Jinhuan, he was a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy—bright, studious, handsome, charming. I never imagined he’d grow into this in just a few years…”

Across the tea hall, two others sat.

One wore a simple yellow monk’s robe, bald and barefoot, with a string of brown Buddhist beads around his neck. The common folk called him an Immortal Official, though his official title was “Astronomical Doctor.”

The Imperial Astronomical Bureau had only thirty-six Immortal Officials and seventy-odd Astronomical Students—few in number, yet the weakest were fourth-rank, and the strongest was Lu Wu, the Sect Master of the Dan Ding Sect.

Another man wore the red robe of the Crimson Scale Guard, a gauze cap on his head and a silver plaque at his waist; he held the rank of Company Commander, named Lu Qian—Han Jingchuan was his direct superior, and Zhou He had been his partner.

Under normal circumstances, when the Crimson Scale Guard moved, it was to raze homes and exterminate families; when the Immortal Officials moved, they left not even a shred of residual soul. Cases requiring both to act together were exceedingly rare.

That all of them gathered today clearly meant the government office had hit a wall.

Wu Yuanhua set down the case file, his eyes heavy with worry:

“Since the start of spring, similar cases have occurred multiple times—the killer left not a single clue, making investigation impossible.”

“In Danyang, the disturbance by demonic forces was solved in barely half a month, and all the demonic bandits were executed.”

“When this reached the Taihua Palace, His Majesty first rejoiced, then grew furious, and ordered Minister Chen to sign a military pledge: solve the ‘Corpse Case’ within one month, or forfeit his official robe and return home to retire.”

“If Minister Chen loses his post over this, I fear even I may be reassigned to Lingnan to watch demonic beasts gnash their teeth…”

The monk’s dharma name was Jingguan, from Tiantai Temple, the foremost sect of the Great Qian’s Buddhist order; his brows were gentle, his expression serene, and he was skilled at offering comfort:

“One must learn to let go. Though the southern frontier teems with demons, it also boasts beautiful mountains and rivers. Master Wu, you’ve labored for years in the capital—now, in your old age, to journey south for quiet rest, taking in the splendor of the land along the way, is truly a blessing.”

“…”

Wu Yuanhua’s eyelid twitched slightly; he longed to curse this bald monk for speaking so lightly, thinking to himself:

You, venerable one, with your profound Buddhist mastery, surely fear no demonic beasts gnashing teeth—but we mere mortals? We’d be crushed like peanuts under their jaws. What chance do we have to see beautiful mountains and rivers?

As the group conversed, a government office runner hurried to the door and bowed to report:

“My lord, the Danyang delegation has arrived. Also, Young Master Xie has returned.”

“Oh?!”

The county magistrate, having heard how Danyang’s office swiftly solved the case with Xie Jin’s help, had been envious for days; he immediately said:

“Send Jinhuang straight to the morgue—the two senior officials are here already; let them examine the case together…”

“Yes.”

…

(End of Chapter)