By evening, with the sun completely set, the travelers finally found a place to lodge for the night.
Lingyun Town lay on the border between Quedu and Qianxiao, serving as a mandatory stop along the way to Yishui City.
“Surely the Gentleman has heard of Lingyun City,” Wen Zhaolin said, riding high in the saddle.
As the group entered the town, they found that despite its small size, the night streets remained quite lively.
Along the way, Ying Laixian had endured no small amount of chatter from Wen Zhaolin; the fellow had chattered on unceasingly throughout the journey, seemingly possessing an endless supply of words.
Receiving no answer, Wen Zhaolin was not discouraged in the least, instead continuing on of his own accord. “Word has it that back in the day, Old Master Wei passed through here and, while wandering in the night, was struck by sudden inspiration to create the Lingyun Sword Technique. Prior to that, this place was known as Void City, but it was renamed ever since. Yet some say Old Master Wei met a confidante here, and that the sword technique was created for her. But that was twenty or thirty years ago; nowadays, Old Master Wei has neither wife nor children, so who knows whether the rumor is true or false.”
Whether true or false, Ying Laixian could not say, but with Wei Heng now over a hundred years old and maintaining his youthful appearance through sheer internal cultivation, perhaps he truly had loved someone once.
Yet in Ying Laixian’s memories, he had never paid any attention to such matters.
The group entered an inn. Fortunately, few travelers had passed through Lingyun City recently, and spare rooms were still available.
Having traveled and toiled all day, Ying Laixian was physically and mentally exhausted. Jiang Ni asked the innkeeper for a bowl of ginger soup and brought him a cup of premium hot tea to drink, which finally allowed him to feel a bit more comfortable.
Their rooms were adjacent to one another. Somehow, Wen Zhaolin still possessed boundless energy; before his room had even grown warm, he came looking for Ying Laixian, happening to cross paths with Jiang Ni as she delivered the hot tea. Stretching out his neck to sniff carefully, he sighed in admiration, “This is top-tier Biluochun! How is it that you prepare yourselves so thoroughly for a journey? It’s wonderful, unlike me, a lone wanderer all by myself.”
Ying Laixian gave a slight nod, and Jiang Ni smoothly poured a cup for Wen Zhaolin, then stepped outside and gently pulled the door shut.
“It is quite late. Does Young Master Wen have something on his mind that you wish to discuss with me in private?”
Wen Zhaolin tossed his head back to drain the tea in one gulp, sat down across from Ying Laixian, and said cheerfully, “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“Which one?”
“Zhong Xiwu, one of the Four Gentlemen. What kind of person is he?”
Ying Laixian casually lifted his gaze. His look was light, like an effortless, passing appraisal. “What is it you wish to know?”
Wen Zhaolin scratched his head and abruptly blurted out a question that caught Ying Laixian completely off guard. “What do you think of his appearance?”
“Between the two of us, who is better looking?”
“He is.”
“Damn it, you didn’t even hesitate for a second!”
Ying Laixian replied calmly, “Is there any reason I should?”
Wen Zhaolin rubbed his nose. “Not really. I’m just naturally curious about everything.”
“That’s not hard to see.”
“I’m simply very curious what kind of person the Third Prince of Yunwu, who received Old Master Wei’s true teachings, burst into prominence in the martial world at fifteen, and earned the title of gentleman is actually like.”
Among the Four Gentlemen, while Ying Laixian’s appearance was a frequent topic of idle conversation, any comparison to the legends surrounding Zhong Xiwu fell flat. Both had achieved fame at a young age, but when Zhong Xiwu earned the title of a genius at sixteen, reaching the third rank and neared the second rank by nineteen, everyone knew that martial arts relied fundamentally on talent. Even someone like Nian Zheng had only entered the second rank a few years prior, despite approaching thirty.
Some even went so far as claim that Zhong Xiwu would become the next Tan Congye.
Yet despite living for so long through countless lifetimes, Ying Laixian had never once seen Zhong Xiwu truly reach Tan Congye’s level.
A genius and a peerless prodigy were, after all, two different things.
Even after so many years, Tan Congye’s story remained a living legend whispered with awe throughout the martial world.
“Him?” Ying Laixian reminisced carefully. No matter how many times he had died, the impression Zhong Xiwu left upon him was far too deep. “An elegant madman.”
When people in the martial world spoke of the Drunken Jade and Waning Mountain, they mostly praised his youthful capability, his modesty, and his gentle demeanor, qualities that had nothing whatsoever to do with obsession or madness.
Yet Ying Laixian knew that to his very core, the man was profoundly obsessive. Perhaps few others realized it, but that was his immediate impression of Zhong Xiwu after dying countless times.
The elegance was real, and the obsession was just as real.
Inside the brightly lit room, Wen Zhaolin looked at Ying Laixian. The other’s tone was completely flat and his expression utterly ordinary, yet those few words carried immense weight.
People always said the Drunken Jade and Waning Mountain shared the closest bond with Liuyu Shouxue, yet no one expected such a harsh evaluation when asked about him.
“Young Master Wen, it is getting late. I need to rest,” Ying Laixian gently issued a dismissal.
Hesitating for a moment, Wen Zhaolin showed no desire to leave; he still had things he wanted to say.
Suddenly, Ying Laixian raised his eyes, his gaze passing right by Wen Zhaolin to fix on the tightly closed door.
A sudden shiver ran through Wen Zhaolin; acting on pure instinct, he violently jerked his head aside.
A flying dart pierced straight through the wooden door, skimmed past Wen Zhaolin’s ear, and embedded itself firmly in the wooden pillar right beside Ying Laixian.
Yet Ying Laixian did not flinch or move an inch; he merely raised a hand slightly and plucked the object off the dart.
With lingering fear in his chest, Wen Zhaolin asked, “What is this?”
Holding the dart in his hand, Ying Laixian examined the attached object back and forth with mild interest. “Who knows?”
“That thing.”
“Young Master Wen.” Ying Laixian’s tone was soft and refined, yet it carried an unmistakable edge of warning. “Whatever it is, we can talk about it tomorrow.”
There’s a limit to everything; Wen Zhaolin knew he had already been chased away twice. If he kept lingering with such thick skin, he risked ruining his impression completely.
Though he was intensely curious and worried about Liuyu Shouxue’s safety, something told him that staying any longer would cross a line.
“Then I wish Gentleman Liuyu an early rest. I won’t disturb you any longer. See you tomorrow.”
Without even lowering his head, Ying Laixian turned the object over in his hands to inspect it, a silver earring crafted from exceptionally fine material, gleaming faintly under the weak candlelight.
Even though he had only seen it once, Ying Laixian knew precisely whose it belonged to.
He carefully wrapped the earring in a handkerchief and tucked it away securely before extinguishing the candles to rest.
Meanwhile, a hundred miles away, Yishui City had recently grown crowded with a multitude of figures.
Even though it sat deep within the desert, quite a few people still risked venturing inward. Yet if anyone hoped to make any bold moves, they dared not; at most, they came merely to gather intelligence and probe for Tan Congye’s true intentions.
Because of this, Chen Wen, who had just returned to Yishui City, found himself buried beneath an avalanche of work. It was the first time his master had ever played the role of a completely hands-off boss, leaving Chen Wen with nowhere to turn for help. Frustrated, he hurriedly rushed over to deliver the newly compiled reports to Tan Congye.
After searching for the span of an incense stick, he finally found the man up on the pavilion roof.
“Master, here is the intelligence on tonight’s incoming arrivals.”
Tan Congye sat beside an open window. The autumn moon hung high in the empty sky, and a cool breeze drifted past. As usual, the man held a flagon of wine, tilting his head back to drink deeply. The long strands of hair falling across his forehead obscured half his face, making his expression unreadable.
Yet having followed Tan Congye for a long time, Chen Wen knew his master was in a foul mood.
“Ignore them,” Tan Congye said in a low, rumbling voice. “Let them be for now.”
Chen Wen curled his lip, realizing his busywork had ultimately amounted to nothing.
He set the documents down and mentioned casually, as if by chance, “By the way, Liuyu Shouxue has already left Quedu. If his pace is steady, he should have reached Lingyun City by now.”
Tan Congye turned his head. “Why are you bringing him up?”
Chen Wen hurriedly lowered his head, feeling as though his master’s gaze could slice through steel.
“I was just curious myself! City Lord, do you think he’s really coming to Yishui City?”
“Who knows.” Tan Congye grew uncharacteristically irritable.
He had to admit that recently, this Liuyu Shouxue had thoroughly frayed his nerves. It had been a long time since he met anyone who dared to play him like that and still remained among the living. The effortless, controlling aura that seemed to naturally follow Ying Laixian annoyed him intensely, while also reminding him that perhaps only this person could unravel his web of mysteries.
Growing bolder, Chen Wen lowered his voice to call his bluff. “You’re clearly dying to know.”
“If you have nothing better to do, you needn’t stay in the city; you can go outside and gather intelligence instead,” Tan Congye said coldly.
Chen Wen scrambled to make peace. “No, no, no, it’s just me being curious! I hear that today on the road, Ying Laixian had a rather rough time of it. Leaving Quedu at a time like this isn’t that different from walking right into a tiger’s den. Don’t you think we should lend him a hand? Who knows, maybe the man’s conscience will prick him and he’ll actually give us the leads.”
Tan Congye looked at Chen Wen as if inspecting an absolute idiot. “The last incident apparently didn’t teach you a lesson. You take Ying Laixian for a fluffy white rabbit, but he probably views you as a complete jackass. The fellow is likely just waiting for you to walk right into his trap.”
Scratching his head, Chen Wen recalled the humiliation of being outsmarted last time. To be honest, his pride stung quite a bit, though inexplicably not enough to genuinely resent it. “Not necessarily, right? The guy is far too cunning, but aside from that, he’s both brilliant and stunning. If we help him let bygones be bygones, I’d imagine he wouldn’t return malice for kindness.”
Cunning? That wasn’t even the half of it. Tan Congye thought back to Ying Laixian. Their interactions had been brief, yet every single action the other took left a lasting impression, from initially setting a trap to draw him in, successfully rescuing Yan Zhou while securing multiple clues to the Changye Temple treasure, to later manipulating his thoughts and backing out at the last moment. Everything had remained entirely within Ying Laixian’s control. Tan Congye could even be certain that even if he hadn’t chosen to help back then, Ying Laixian possessed more than enough means to acquire the lead on his own.
This wasn’t mere cleverness; this was.
“Decisive and calculating,” Tan Congye suddenly burst into a low laugh. “Our Gentleman Liuyu likely assumes that every single variable is safely tucked inside his calculations, a man of countless secrets. Tell me, Chen Wen, since Ying Laixian knows I am investigating the truth behind the destruction of Changye Temple, do you think he also knows whether this so-called Changye Temple treasure is real or fake?”
Chen Wen frowned. “It has to be real. If it were fake, why would he go to such great lengths to acquire the lead?”
“Don’t forget, the prerequisite to getting that lead was rescuing Yan Zhou. Though somehow, I doubt a person like that possesses any Bodhisattva heart to save strangers out of the goodness of his heart.”
That left Chen Wen even more perplexed. “City Lord, why don’t we.”
“No need,” Tan Congye smiled. “He will come looking for me, provided he actually listened to what I said that day.”