Chapter 223: Words Across the Void

Since early this morning, Dongsheng Courtyard has been thronged with visitors, as disciples of Tian Shu Academy have taken up residence, drawing visits from northern aristocratic families.

But after the Little Inspector of Lingjian Mountain moved in, even more southern clans came to pay homage, their lines stretching from the pavilions of the East Courtyard all the way to the green stone inscribed with "The Sun Rises in the East."

Many among them exuded profound, mysterious qi, their cultivation realms deep; some were already gray-haired and white-bearded, quietly waiting in the courtyard.

The Seven Immortal Sects each sent one direct disciple; the Chen Immortal Clan sent two—but only Yan Shuyi is the undisputed next Patriarch.

After all, not just anyone can become the Vessel Keeper.

The Patriarchs of the Seven Immortal Sects are hard to meet; even those who have come to the Dao Assembly are unknown to ordinary people, so the only Patriarch they can approach is Yan Shuyi.

Thus many came to pay their respects, hoping to secure a better future for their clans.

In the small pavilion of the East Courtyard, the Little Inspector of Lingjian Mountain still wore her Inspector's Immortal Robe, though her crown had been removed; her gaze was calm as she regarded the old man before her.

He wore a blue brocade robe, showing early signs of age, his cheeks sunken, yet his spirit remained high.

His surname was Zeng, and he was the patriarch of the Zeng Clan of Lingzhou.

The Zeng Clan was a sizable aristocratic family, but in recent years had clashed repeatedly with the Deng Clan of Lingzhou; his visit was meant to leverage Lingjian Mountain to pressure the Dengs.

Whether by relationship or past dealings, Zeng's patriarch believed his family was closer to Lingjian Mountain than the Dengs.

He had never met Yan Shuyi before and assumed she was merely a young girl, no matter how formidable—yet sitting across from her, he felt overwhelming pressure, forcing him to immediately lower his posture.

"The Zeng and Deng clans are both noble families of Lingzhou; harmony should be valued. Constant strife harms us all."

Yan Shuyi looked up at the Zeng patriarch: "Lingjian Mountain does not wish to meddle in aristocratic disputes. As outsiders, we cannot easily judge such matters, and in my view, your two families' conflict is not irreconcilable."

The Zeng patriarch bowed: "But that fertile ancestral land has always belonged to the Zeng Clan."

"Who from Tianjian Peak granted it to you?"

"It was… it was the words of Patriarch Yan himself."

"That argument holds no weight with me. I am not like him—I only wish for Lingzhou to remain peaceful."

Yan Shuyi regarded him: "You may think I am just a girl, but since childhood, I have always known who harbors greed."

After a long silence, the Zeng patriarch spoke: "The Inspector's rebuke is just."

"The Deng Clan has already expressed a desire for reconciliation. I can mediate for you—let this matter end here."

"But Inspector, our Zeng Clan has lost many young disciples."

Yan Shuyi did not respond, instead saying: "I hear you have a grandson who is entering Tongxuan. My sect still holds a Ju Xuan Pill—I will have him join my Xuanjian Peak."

The Zeng patriarch opened his mouth, then immediately bowed deeply: "Thank you, Inspector."

"No need to thank me—it is your grandson's own merit. I can only help him climb one step higher."

"May the Inspector's divine fortune endure forever, his destiny match the heavens."

Yan Shuyi watched him depart, then gently set down her teacup.

The Zeng Clan had long favored Tianjian Peak, and they were often stubborn; Xuanjian Peak naturally leaned toward the Deng Clan.

But Yan Shuyi was not like Yan Zhong—this time, she had still given the Zeng Clan a chance to draw near to her.

A disciple personally summoned by the Patriarch is different from all others; the Zeng patriarch, having lived a century, understood this well.

Yan Shuyi unconsciously rubbed her temples and sighed.

She was still poor at such matters, yet her position demanded she master them. She pressed her lips together, then glanced toward the courtyard across the way.

She saw the disciple Gongshu Chou, wearing an air of profound mystery, crossing Rui Sheng Garden toward a residence.

At that moment, Ji You was drinking tea with Kuangcheng and Wei Rui in his room when a knock came at the door.

Wei Rui thought it was Sister Yan from across the way and rushed to open it—only to find a disheveled, rough-looking man standing there. She gasped, turning back to Ji You and Kuangcheng.

Kuangcheng rose from his cushion: "Brother Gongshu, long time no see."

Gongshu Chou bowed: "Half a year has passed, yet it feels like yesterday. To meet again now feels like crossing lifetimes."

Ji You casually clapped his hands: "Well said. Close the door, show him out."

"?"

Kuangcheng blinked: "Brother Ji, you must be mistaken."

Ji You stared at Gongshu Chou: "You can write, can't you? Your prose is quite vivid—how much have you earned from your manuscripts?"

Gongshu Chou paused: "What manuscripts?"

"The Chronicle of My Journey Through the Snowlands."

"Huh? Brother Ji, how did you know about that?"

Gongshu Chou was then ushered to a tea seat by Kuangcheng, staring at Ji You in disbelief.

His epic masterpiece, painstakingly crafted, had been confiscated by his own Inspector; though he later recounted a few passages from memory, none matched the raw brilliance of the first draft.

Few knew his original version had been meticulously transcribed into text.

Ji You looked at him: "Don't ask why. Just answer: yes or no."

"You're impossible to fool—it's true."

Kuangcheng frowned: "What book?"

Ji You turned to Kuangcheng: "Brother Gongshu wrote a book detailing my entire journey through the Snowlands—fabricated with vivid detail, as if he'd been there himself—and brought it back to Lingjian Mountain."

Gongshu Chou raised his eyebrows and bowed: "Flattery aside, it was merely a humble work, still far from perfect."

Kuangcheng murmured the five words "Chronicle of My Journey Through the Snowlands," then glanced at Gongshu Chou, remembered Lingjian Mountain, and recalled the figure on the palanquin—suddenly his eyes widened.

They had once carefully analyzed in the carriage who Ji You had seen in the Snowlands—and he remembered Gongshu Chou's eyes glowing gold at the time.

He had warned Gongshu Chou then: this was pure speculation; never speak of it.

Later, when Immortal Yan came to Shengjing to spend winter, looking ready to bite someone, Ji You said she had found out about the tail.

Kuangcheng had been puzzled then—how could anyone know? It was known only to heaven, earth, him, and Ji You—he never imagined Gongshu Chou had this deadly habit of writing.

Gongshu Chou studied their expressions: "What's wrong? I didn't write anything bad!"

"Not bad?"

"How is this bad? I wrote your sword-slaying of the Warlord in the Wilds with great flair—and your counter-killing of the Demon General in Demon Emperor City? That was masterful!"

Gongshu Chou laid his arm across the table: "Do you know how hard it was to make a Demon General, bare-handed, inflict a hundred sword wounds on you? I exhausted every trick to make it plausible!"

Ji You's mouth twitched: "So I should thank you?"

"No need. After all, we're sworn brothers in life and death."

"You think I'm complimenting you? Keep talking."

Gongshu Chou frowned, puzzled: "What else is there to say?"

Kuangcheng cleared his throat: "About the tail."

"Tail? Oh."

Gongshu Chou remembered: "That part was hard too—I've never had a consort, yet I had to show the Demon Princess's secret affection for you while highlighting your heroic grandeur—I poured my soul into it!"

As he finished, his eyes sharpened—he felt a sudden surge of killing intent.

Kuangcheng couldn't help grinning: "Brother Gongshu, didn't we agree in the carriage? Even though my reasoning was sound, none of us actually saw the tail. Unseen events are fantasy—shouldn't they stay unspoken?"

Ji You looked at Kuangcheng: "You're quite the master."

Kuangcheng swallowed: "I didn't mean to! I never knew he had this writing habit."

Gongshu Chou glanced at him: "But your reasoning was brilliant—absolutely correct."

"Brother Gongshu, please don't praise me…"

"But since ancient times, romantic tales have always included beautiful women—heroes need beauties to be compelling. Had I not feared the Demon Clan hunting me down, I'd have written a sequel where the Demon Princess is pregnant."

Gongshu Chou lifted his teacup and drank, then set it down: "I don't understand why you're afraid—you have no lover on Lingjian Mountain."

As he spoke, he paused: "Wait—could Ding Yao really be your lover? I knew it! Elder Yan Chuan couldn't have protected you in the Wilds without reason."

Ji You raised his hand, cutting off Gongshu Chou's torrent of wild invention: "You spread my private affairs without permission, fabricating details—this is hateful. But since no great harm was done, I'll let it pass. If I ever find out again, we're done."

Kuangcheng's teacup trembled, spilling tea across the table.

Wei Rui, unaware of the context, listened in confusion; seeing this, she looked up: "What's wrong with Young Master Kuang?"

"Nothing—I think Brother Ji is right…"

"Your face is white."

"It's… hot."

Gongshu Chou, having heard Ji You's words, reluctantly acquiesced.

Ji You turned his gaze to the small building across the way, thought for a moment, then asked: "How is your Inspector now?"

Gongshu Chou wasn't surprised he asked so directly—in his view, all cultivators in the Nine Provinces were curious about the Inspector: "A few days ago, she broke through to Wujiang, cleaving through Lingjian Mountain's endless rain with a single sword, silencing Tianjian Peak for days."

Ji You nodded, pondered, then returned to the earlier topic: "Other stories are still fine to write."

Gongshu Chou straightened his back: "Any new material? Tell me."

Ji You pressed his thigh, thought for a long while, then fixed him with a stare: "Actually, I do have a story."

"Tell me."

"During the Xin Yuan period, a woman came to my courtyard—beautiful as moon and flowers—she stayed to spend winter here. After she left, I've often wondered how she is, whether she's well, whether she's happy."

Kuangcheng's eyes widened in shock—he thought: Ji You is truly the master.

Ji You saw his reaction, smiled faintly—he knew Kuangsheng understood—and gave a smile of subtle calculation, as if plotting the heavens.

Gongshu Chou stared at them: "That's it? What's the point? Give me something with real punch!"

Ji You looked at him, expression strange: "You think that's not enough? No wonder you can't find a consort…"

"I like fighting—real battles, with life and death."

"You and Yuanchen could piss in the same pot."

Gongshu Chou drank his tea, set down the cup, and pressed: "So—is there a story or not?"

Ji You frowned: "First, memorize this story. Then I'll tell you one about Ji Bo Tian—a genius who slew two peers of equal realm with four swords, forcing Lingjian Mountain's Elder Council to retreat, and under a clear daytime sky, declared: 'My fate is mine, not heaven's!'"

Gongshu Chou's expression turned grave at once: "Tell me that story again. I'll memorize it carefully."

"Then listen closely."

"..."

After a long while, Gongshu Chou stepped out of Ji You's residence, his eyes blazing with fervor.

Who in heaven dares challenge my grand ambition? With my blue blade in hand, I shall slay the dragon with a single strike!

He stood in the courtyard, unable to snap out of it, his creative urge flowing ceaselessly from his heart—no longer containable, not even by squeezing.

Zhuo Wanqiu and Ding Yao were upstairs; seeing Gongshu Chou return, they exchanged glances and descended the stairs.

At this moment, Yan Shuyi had already received several clan heads, including the Hua, Shangguan, and Yuan families.

Some came with conflicts against other clans, others with disputes over interests, while some sought to secure a future for their disciples at Lingjian Mountain—or wished to invite her to a banquet.

Yan Shuyi alternated between faint smiles and blank expressions, balancing mercy and authority.

She had practiced this since childhood; though not her true nature, she could perform it flawlessly.

Being the Abbess was truly difficult. Today, Tian Shu Academy had many factions, interlinked and entangled—precisely because the Abbess had become a hands-off manager, a fact that sometimes made her envious.

At this moment, Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu entered: "Jianzhu, Gongshu Chou has returned from the other side."

Yan Shuyi lifted her gaze, her eyelashes trembling slightly: "Lately, secrets from Lingjian Mountain keep leaking. No one knows who's behind it. Bring him to the next room and question him thoroughly about what he discussed with that outsider disciple."

"Yes, Jianzhu."

Gongshu Chou had indeed just returned from the other side, his mind bursting with creative fervor—so intense that even nine oxen couldn't hold him back—but he hadn't expected Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu to intercept him, demanding to know what he'd said to that outsider disciple.

This master of rough brushwork fixed his gaze mostly on Ding Yao, thinking: So it was true.

No wonder Ji You was so furious about him writing about the princess's tail—and wanted to cut ties.

So he picked out key points and recounted them haltingly to Ding Yao.

But this time he'd learned his lesson: not a single word about the woman Ji You kept in his courtyard, or how much he missed her after leaving. He fiercely protected Ji You.

If Ji Bochang were here, he'd surely sigh: How did I end up with you and Kuangcheng as my twin dragons?

Yan Shuyi was right next door; with her spiritual sense, she easily caught every word spoken—her face expressionless.

Ding Yao looked at Gongshu Chou: "Gongshu Senior Brother, have you heard? Secrets keep leaking from the sect—even the Jianzhu's arrival in Zhongxing County was known in detail. If you're hiding anything, you risk expulsion. Whether it's what you said or what Ji You said, you must recount every single word."

Zhuo Wanqiu nodded: "This matter could be trivial or grave. Think carefully."

Gongshu Chou swallowed hard, thinking: Is it really this serious? I just listened to a story and leaked secrets?

Ding Yao stared at him: "Opportunities don't come often."

"Ji You also mentioned Xin Yuan, but it has nothing to do with the leaks."

"Xin Yuan? Go on."

"Uh… Ji You said he kept a woman in Xin Yuan. After he left, he's been thinking about her constantly—wondering how she is, whether she's happy."

As soon as the words ended, Yan Shuyi lifted her gaze slightly, her foot twitching unconsciously.

Gongshu Chou was then released, while the junior Jianzhu continued receiving guests in the pavilion.

The last person the junior Jianzhu met was the head of the Cheng clan of Lingzhou. His son, in an attempt to break through to the Fusion Dao realm, forcibly severed all emotional ties—and went mad, injuring many disciples from other clans.

As a result, the Cheng clan is now under siege, their situation dire.

Upon hearing the words "severed emotional ties," the junior Jianzhu's eyelashes trembled, her expression turning thoughtful.

Only when night fell and the moon shone through the pines did she order her disciples to send away those who had yet to be received.

The Tian Shu Academy disciples watched the courtyard all day, recognizing many once-famous figures who had since retired into seclusion, and repeatedly glimpsed the Jianzhu's figure in her silken robe through the small window.

"Pity we only caught a few glimpses—she's the youngest Wujiang Realm cultivator…"

He Lingxiu spoke up: "Her realm is secondary. What matters is the Sacred Artifact is in her hands. How many times have you seen the Tian Shu's original text?"

Xiao Hanyan raised her gaze: "If not for our deep tensions with her, I'd go see her myself."

"The Cai, Deng, and Hua clans all rely on Lingjian Mountain. If we were in their place, we might not even get to see her. Just living in the same courtyard is already good fortune—Ji You saw her even less than we did."

As they spoke, Chai Ze slapped a mosquito on his arm: "There are too many mosquitoes."

He Lingxiu glanced at him: "This garden's dense foliage breeds plenty of insects. Constantly dispersing spiritual energy to keep them away is exhausting. Let's just go back."

Xiao Hanyan stood up: "Then let's end tonight. Rest well, everyone. Tomorrow we'll stroll through the city."

"Goodnight, everyone."

Shi Junhao finished his tea, then returned to his room and walked toward the incense table on the western side of his bed.

Cultivators could use spiritual energy to repel mosquitoes, but not when sleeping or meditating—because then they had no conscious awareness.

Many cultivators hated waking up covered in mosquito bites after a night of cultivation; this candidate for direct disciple was no different.

Fortunately, the Rusheng Courtyard had already prepared a mosquito incense burner—so small insects wouldn't disturb his Dao heart.

Shi Junhao reached for the incense burner on the table; as he tilted his palm, a clatter rang out.

After a long silence, the candidate's eyes filled with confusion.

How could it be broken?

He picked up the shattered half, then suddenly turned his head—faintly sensing a presence emerge from the west, too swift to catch, then vanishing instantly.

"I'll take a walk around the garden."

In the red-candlelit pavilion, Yan Shuyi, clad in her Jianzhu's silken robe, lightly tapped her toe—spiritual energy rippled through the air, and her graceful form vanished from the tower.

Zhuo Wanqiu glanced at Ding Yao, thinking: Though this garden is elegant, in the Jianzhu's heart, the only view worth strolling is the scenery inside her husband's bedding.

(End of Chapter)