Chapter 359: Not Here to Find a Husband

In the past, whenever I heard talk of Fengzhou, I always imagined a barren wasteland, but seeing it now, it’s quite pleasant—perfect for long-term residence.

That’s all thanks to Ji You.

Sister, we should’ve stayed longer.

Inside the carriage padded with cotton mattresses, Lu Hanyan murmured softly, gazing at her own smooth feet.

Lu Qingqiu glanced at her sister: “Our Lu family has temporarily lost our ancestral lands. Before the barbarians and yao tribes are driven out of You and Yun provinces, we’ll face extreme hardship. Only by reaching a higher cultivation level will others dare to hesitate before us—your burden is heavier now than ever.”

A few days ago, she received a letter from her father saying he had already arranged everything at the Heavenly Book Academy and secured a promise from an Elder to take her sister as a personal disciple—urging them to return swiftly.

This is the best course of action; without ancestral lands, the Lu family must bind itself more deeply to an immortal sect to survive the coming storm.

Actually, confirming the rumors might have been possible, but the opposition and conflict revealed during the grain sale incident likely frightened Father—he dares not put all his daughters in one basket.

“Actually, I can cultivate at Ji Zhai too—I can even learn swordplay from my senior brothers,” Lu Hanyan suddenly replied.

“At Ji Zhai ?”

Lu Qingqiu glanced at her sister’s full, rounded hips and thought: You don’t want to learn swordplay—you want to learn positions.

At this thought, the images of Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu flashed through her mind.

What a pity—though she’d vaguely sensed Yuan Caimei wasn’t from the main branch, she never managed to uncover who the true main branch heir was.

This isn’t a trivial matter; the downstream consequences are enormous.

Whether that person is easy to get along with, whether their background clashes with our own—in this rigidly stratified world, these are deeply influential factors.

Lu Qingqiu recalled Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu’s watchful eyes and thought: What kind of master, what kind of maid. The one hidden deep within might be even more formidable.

With vague clues and days of Shitan , she had several candidates in mind.

To force Yuan Caimei of Yu Danzong into a secondary position, their status must be substantial—He Lingxiu, the direct disciple of a Hall Master, is possible; so too are the second-generation direct disciples of other immortal sects.

Thinking even more boldly, it might even be Chen Xi, one of the twin direct disciples of the Chen Immortal Clan.

There’s precedent for this—after all, Ji You spent over half a year with her in the Sacred Ground of the Ancients.

Rumors have long circulated in the academy that Ji You has fiancées scattered across the land—this isn’t impossible.

Yet in Lu Qingqiu’s mind, Chen Xi’s status is so high that her likelihood is the lowest of all.

At this moment, Cao Jingsong, who had gone out to see the sisters off, watched the carriage vanish into the distance before returning to Ji Zhai in Fengzhou Prefecture.

These past days, as the Fengzhou grain incident spread, their nerves had remained taut.

Now that the matter has settled, though the outcome wasn’t ideal, it still brought them relief—and they longed to rest for a few days.

But upon returning to Ji Zhai , they spotted a figure in the central courtyard.

Though the figure had suppressed their aura, the piercing sting felt through their spiritual sense told them this person’s realm was profoundly deep.

The affair of seizing imperial tax revenues had caused a huge uproar; though it had calmed slightly, it wasn’t impossible for an outsider to have slipped quietly into Fengzhou.

The group instantly grew serious, slowing their steps toward the courtyard—yet within a few paces, they froze at the corridor’s center.

Behind a corridor pillar, a breathtakingly beautiful face emerged, making them hold their breath, stiffen their bodies, and bow slightly at the waist.

The fake lord of Fengzhou had gone out to meet someone—the true lord of Fengzhou had arrived.

“Greetings, Instructor.”

Yan Shuyi’s spiritual sense was powerful; she had known they were coming long ago, and turned to bow gracefully to Cao Jingsong.

Cao Jingsong returned the bow with equal grace: “Greetings, Master Jian.”

Ban Yangshu, Wen Zhengxin, and Pei Ruyi also bowed slightly with clasped fists, receiving Yan Shuyi’s return bow.

From Ji You’s perspective, Cao Jingsong’s seniority was greater, so even though Yan Shuyi was Master Jian, she must greet him first.

This was also why Cao Jingsong had nearly fainted with fear during their first meeting at the Heavenly Dao Assembly.

Seeing this, Ding Yao and Zhuo Wanqiu couldn’t help but exchange furtive glances.

Our own Master Jian keeps insisting she came to see Qiu Ru, just for a stroll—never once mentioning the “little Heavenly Book Academy disciple”—yet her courtesies are flawless, even knowing enough to echo “Instructor” in consort.

After greeting everyone, Yan Shuyi shifted her steps and turned toward the back hall.

She had little experience interacting with others, especially elders, and didn’t know what to say—so she gracefully headed to Ji You’s study.

The study of the little Heavenly Book Academy disciple was tidy enough, though the scrolls piled high like small mountains.

The oil lamp was new, but the lamp holder bore thick scorch marks—clearly overused during this period.

Yan Shuyi naturally knew of the grain and land leasing matters; now, seeing the scrolls, documents, and oil lamp, she couldn’t help but picture him burning the midnight oil.

Since leaving Ri Sheng Immortal Villa, they hadn’t seen each other for over half a year.

Bastard, never going to Lingjian Mountain.

She sat behind Ji You’s desk, leaning gently on it and blinking softly.

After watching for a long while, she reached out and began grinding ink, then drew a stick-figure with a sword piercing its heart on scrap paper.

Meanwhile, in the front hall, Cao Jingsong exhaled slowly.

Though he knew the little Jian Master of Lingjian Mountain was involved with his unruly disciple, facing her in person still brought tension—he couldn’t shake it off in an instant.

Wen Zhengxin turned to Ding Yao: “Why did the Jian Master suddenly come?”

“The Young Master once promised to visit our Jian Master at Lingjian Mountain, but many things happened afterward, and he never went—so the Jian Master…”

At these words, everyone fell silent.

The future leader of Lingjian Mountain, so eager for a husband—it’s a striking contrast.

Had we not taken Ji You from Yuyang County all those years ago, we’d never have had the chance to meet such a little Jian Master.

Yan Shuyi soon emerged from the study and wandered aimlessly through the courtyard.

She wore a wide-sleeved, flowing immortal robe, its hem cascading like mist and Xia , layers unfolding like stacked peony petals—seen from afar, her divine form radiated proud majesty.

Her aimless, feigned stroll was, in truth, waiting for the little Heavenly Book Academy disciple.

Soon, Wei Rui returned from Fengzhou Prefecture.

She had received word that her sister-in-law had arrived and rushed home—upon entering, she called out, “Sister!”

Before meeting Yan Shuyi, she hadn’t known her identity, so their interactions had been natural and free of pressure—the atmosphere in the Zhai gradually grew lively.

Meanwhile, Ji You and Kuangcheng had reached the border of Qingzhou.

The returned shopkeeper and staff came forward, bowing deeply as they approached.

“Young Master, we failed to evacuate safely and brought trouble upon you—you shouldn’t have saved us.”

“It’s fine. If not now, then later—there will be a result eventually. You’ve worked hard—get in the carriage.”

“Thank you, Young Master…”

Fengzhou had dispatched a large convoy of grain carts to retrieve them; once all were aboard, they returned in a grand procession.

Throughout the journey, Ji You sat silently in the carriage.

His long-planned scheme had failed; though he acted indifferent, he still felt regret.

More importantly, despite having every advantage—timing, terrain, and manpower—they still failed. As immortal sects and aristocratic clans gradually recover their strength, what chances will he have left?

For many days, Ji You had pondered this question, yet found no answer.

The Nine Provinces of Qingyun have been controlled by aristocratic clans and immortal sects for too long—they’re as solid as cast iron, impossible to dismantle.

He now understood why both upper and lower strata accepted this rule: perhaps many before him had tried, yet all ended the same way—until everyone gave up.

This world felt to Ji You as if it had been beyond salvation from the start—every struggle only deepened its cracks.

“It’s snowing.”

“?”

Ji You snapped back to awareness and looked at Kuangcheng.

Kuang the Scholar had lifted the curtain and spoken to him.

Ji You leaned over and saw scattered snowflakes drifting gently to the ground.

“What will you do after this, Ji Brother?”

“I’ll pack my things and go to Lingjian Mountain for a while.”

Kuangcheng turned to look at Ji You: “To see Yan Xianzi?”

Ji You nodded: “I promised her I’d visit Lingjian Mountain when I had time. So many things happened—I delayed half a year. She’s probably furious. What about you?”

“I’ll stay at Ji Zhai . I won’t return to the capital before spring—Fengzhou has changed so much, and I’ve never celebrated the New Year here.”

“Will Wei Rui stay with you?”