Chapter 361: New Year

Just got promoted, but my salary hasn't come yet, so Yin Song said he won't send money home for the New Year—he'll set up a stall during the holiday, and once he earns some, he'll send it home.

That's right, most of Yin Song's money comes from fortune-telling on the street; his official salary barely covers himself, his apprentice, and a servant boy.

It's nowhere near enough—he still relied on his senior disciple Wang Cong's support just two years ago.

Wang Cong folded the letter and said, "Father, tell Master Yin that the temple's funds are enough for the household—we don't need him to earn more."

After thinking, Wang Cong feared Yin Song wouldn't believe him, so he added, "Maybe send him a few hundred taels?"

Wang Feiyin lifted his eyelids and looked at him. "You're awfully filial to the second son."

Wang Cong: "... Father, I want to be filial to you too, but you can't take money, can you?"

Honestly, although Wang Cong called Yin Song "Master," he never felt that "a teacher for a day is a father for life" sentiment.

Because Yin Song only held the title of Master—he was always personally taught by Wang Feiyin.

The two were only a few years apart; since childhood, Yin Song and Tao Ji had always treated Wang Cong like a younger brother.

Wang Cong had always called them "older brother" and "senior brother"; it was only after Wang Feiyin's luck grew worse, causing all three to stumble, fall into water while washing clothes, and fall ill until they nearly died, that they were forced to sever ties.

From then on, the apprentice became a junior brother.

Wang Cong was affected the most—he nearly died from one illness—so Wang Feiyin made him take Yin Song, whose luck was better, as his Master, and didn't see him for three years, thus saving his life.

At the mention of painful memories, Wang Feiyin waved his hand: "Go, go, go—do what you're supposed to do."

Xuanmiao grabbed Pan Yun by the back of her robe and walked off. "Go practice your sword!"

Miao Zhen and Miao He swiftly carried over a table piled high with pastries, candies, and snacks.

Tao Yanbai stacked chairs and stools behind them.

They placed the table in front of the main hall, arranged chairs and stools, set up firepans, wrapped themselves in blankets, looked up at the stars above, and faced forward to watch their fourth uncle teaching the junior uncle swordplay—two swords interweaving under the starlight, cold and gleaming, beautifully striking.

Soon after, Wang Feiyin arrived.

He grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds, cracked them as he watched Xuanmiao demonstrate her sword technique; watching, watching, he gradually sat upright and called Wang Cong over. "Hurry up and watch, hurry up and learn—this is your fourth uncle's famed sword art, the Star-Chasing, Moon-Pursuing Sword. She once used this very sword to cut through Long Hushan..."

The youths and maidens gasped "Wow!" and widened their eyes—but Xuanmiao's sword movements were too swift; under the dim starlight, her cold blade moved like shooting stars—they could only see flashes of light, unable to catch even her silhouette.

Pan Yun stood on the field, feeling the sword momentum surging from all directions; she could see Xuanmiao's moves clearly, yet after the demonstration ended, she remembered only half.

Always believing herself to have a photographic memory, the First Hou, whose recall and replication were superior—Pan Yun fell silent.

Xuanmiao slowly descended from the air, sheathed her sword behind her, and asked, "How many moves did you see?"

Pan Yun, ashamed, replied, "I saw them all, but only remembered half."

After a pause, Xuanmiao said, "Demonstrate the half you remembered."

Pan Yun raised her sword, lightly traced her finger along the blade's edge, lifted her gaze—and her body became a clear breeze; only the cold gleam of the sword was visible, shadows flashing through the air. So fast was she that she had already moved to the next technique, yet Wang Cong and the others' eyes still lingered above—in their view, countless Pan Yuns danced beneath the moonlight.

Xuanmiao slightly raised an eyebrow, a faint smile curling her lips, and spun a sword blossom. "Follow me."

She began demonstrating: "Racing wheels, steeds galloping, riding the fiery essence; circling the mortal world, an endless city."

Xuanmiao's form flickered; Pan Yun halted her sword to watch, then followed closely—both moved as one ribbon, striking and sheathing in perfect unison.

Xuanmiao paused, seeing Pan Yun could keep pace, then advanced to the next move: "Wind-maned steeds chase stars, lowly playing with shadows; frost-hooved horses pursue lightning, vanishing without sound."

Cold blade-light flashed; Pan Yun stared intently, following closely behind.

Xuanmiao: "Qin troops collapsed under Xianyang's fire; Wu torches raced through Chibi's night."

Their forms flickered; only scattered afterimages remained on the ground.

Xuanmiao: "I still recall youthful dreams on carved saddles, trampling moonlight on Zhangtai's paths."

Their shadows intertwined in midair; spectators' eyes couldn't keep up—only fragments of shadows shattered into mist beneath the moonlight. The two pierced the moonlight in sequence, landing—only then did the aerial shadows vanish.

Miao Zhen stared wide-eyed, hands clasped tightly; when she saw them land, she murmured, "I want to learn too!"

Wang Feiyin closed his mouth, then lifted Wang Cong's chin to shut his too, drank some water, and said, "You've got a long way to go."

Pan Yun learned an entire sword art in one night.

Xuanmiao's gaze toward her carried unmistakable admiration. She said to Tao Ji, "I will never take an apprentice."

Tao Ji muttered, "You said yourself you should've taken her..."

Xuanmiao felt no regret. "I cannot be her master—the Mountain God suits her better."

The more Pan Yun practiced, the stronger her momentum grew; she trained under the starlight until midnight.

When she landed again, Wang Feiyin called out to her: "Stop practicing—it's midnight. In half an hour, it's the New Year—come eat something." Pan Yun, having trained over three hours straight, was truly hungry; she sheathed her sword and approached.

Miao He immediately pulled over a chair; Wang Cong lifted the lid off a nearby pot and took out a plate of dumplings.

Only then did Pan Yun realize they had brought over the stove and pot; where they sat, two firepans and two stoves surrounded them—one stove held a pot, the other a teakettle.

As she took the chopsticks, Pan Yun said, "You all know how to enjoy life."

Wang Feiyin: "We only stay up once a year—of course we should enjoy it. Our temple isn't short of these things; no need to suffer unnecessarily."

Pan Yun: "Big Brother's words make perfect sense."

As she ate, Pan Yun asked Xuanmiao, seated beside her, "Fourth sister, how was my practice?"

"Very good. Your strength is misapplied—you could move faster, your strikes sharper. Keep practicing. When you fully comprehend it, with your First Hou cultivation, you can walk sideways through the Imperial Academy as long as you don't leave."

Pan Yun immediately asked, "What if I leave?"

Xuanmiao: "Long Hushan isn't as weak as you think. The Zhang Zhang Tian Shi's Mansion holds many experts."

Pan Yun had always measured herself against Xuanmiao: "Back then, you alone with your sword cut through Long Hushan..."

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"That's because the Zhang Zhang Tian Shi's Mansion had my parents and the True Person," Xuanmiao paused, then said: "I'm surnamed Zhang. When I fought, it was a family feud—our reclusive elders wouldn't interfere. The strongest cultivator I fought was barely First Hou."

"But you..." Xuanmiao glanced at her. "Not you—even if I returned now, I couldn't cut through Long Hushan."

Because she had left Long Hushan too long ago; she had formally joined Mount Sanqing and was now only half a Long Hushan person.

If she returned now, those reclusive elders might not stand idly by.

Pan Yun turned to look at Wang Feiyin.

Wang Feiyin, who was cracking sunflower seeds, paused mid-motion, made uncomfortable by her gaze. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Senior Brother, you have to work hard. At the very least, you need to match the reclusive masters of Long Hushan. That way, when others bring out their backers, I'll have a backer to rely on too."

Wang Feiyin felt the sunflower seeds in his hand had lost their flavor. "Can't you be a little more restrained in offending people? Let me tell you—as long as you don't dig up the dragon vein of Long Hushan, or kill the next generation's Zhang Zhang Tian Shi, they can't be bothered to deal with you."

He paused, afraid Pan Yun would actually go do something like that, and hurriedly added: "Of course, if you really do something like that, I won't save you either. Just rest in peace, and next year I'll burn you plenty of paper money."

Pan Yun immediately said: "Am I that kind of rude person?"

She said: "I definitely wouldn't do something like that."

Wang Feiyin snorted.

After Pan Yun finished her dumplings and ate some snacks, Wang Feiyin counted on his fingers, looked up at the stars in the sky, slapped his backside and stood up. "I'm going to wash my hands. You all bring the incense and candles."

After washing and drying his hands, Wang Feiyin walked out to the great bell. Hearing the faint sound of the water clock not far off, he gripped the bell hammer with both hands and struck the bronze bell hard.

The bell's tone was deep and resonant, slowly spreading outward, echoing through the mountains and growing stronger as it drifted into the distance…

The villages and towns near Mount Sanqing all heard the bell, and at the same time, someone in Yushan County seat also rang a bell.

The villagers and common folk, upon hearing the bell, took firecrackers and walked out of their homes one after another, lighting them in their courtyards or by the roadside.

The firecrackers exploded, their sound instantly filling the mountains and the entire county seat.

In the county seat, some wealthy households also set off fireworks to bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new. Many drowsy children were startled awake by the firecrackers and fireworks, and ran out behind the adults, covering their ears as they watched their fathers and brothers light firecrackers, then looked up at the fireworks, cheering nonstop: "So pretty, so pretty…"

Magistrate Ming stood on the balcony with his hands behind his back, watching the fireworks, and couldn't help but smile. "This year more households set off fireworks—eight in all. From the sound of it, more households lit firecrackers than last year too."

Lady Ming said with a smile: "Feel reassured now? When the common folk's lives get better and better, that's when there'll be more fireworks and firecrackers."

Magistrate Ming took off his cloak and draped it over her, nodding: "I only hope next year can be the same—one year better than the last, one year more than the last, that would be best."

Lady Ming: "It will be."

The husband and wife leaned against each other, watching the fireworks.

But on Mount Sanqing, only the sound of firecrackers could be heard.

The Sanqing Abbey didn't set off firecrackers; they only offered incense and burned candles to the various deities, and burned quite a few gold ingots as well.

Pan Yun went reverently to pay New Year's respects to her master, the Mountain God. After kowtowing three times respectfully, she inserted the incense and began muttering: "Master, may your magic power be boundless and your merit immeasurable. Please also bless me with boundless magic power and immeasurable merit."

Pan Gong: …

Wang Feiyin couldn't stand listening any longer. After inserting his incense, he turned and said: "Song Dali, take your junior brothers and sisters to offer incense."

Pan Yun hurriedly stepped aside.

(End of chapter)