Because Tianyang Sect was located far from the White Lotus Temple, and the incident at the temple had troubled everyone considerably, Fu Yunming invited all of them to stay and celebrate the New Year together.
At that moment, inside the kitchen of the White Lotus Temple, Madam Zhu sat at a plain table chopping vegetables. Watching the bustling activity around the kitchen and listening to the sound of laughter, a faint trace of moisture welled up in her eyes.
Previously, Madam Zhu’s sole obsession had been her child. Once her child perished, she lost all will to live. After Gongsun Bai was brought to justice, Madam Zhu intended to end her own life, but the new abbot intervened to stop her.
The abbot counseled her and offered her sanctuary within the White Lotus Temple.
She finally had a place to call home.
Looking around the kitchen at the familiar faces, she recalled that every single one of them had stepped forward to offer words of comfort. Madam Zhu hardly knew what to do with herself, feeling entirely unworthy of such kindness.
Her gratitude ran deep.
With so much care and counsel washing over her, Madam Zhu abandoned the thought of taking her own life. Now, she simply wished to follow the abbot and devote herself to cultivation.
Outside the kitchen, Lu Fenghuo pulled up a chair and sat at a courtyard table to wash vegetables. Most of the White Lotus Temple monks had been arrested, and the few remaining who were truly innocent did not dare remain, choosing to pack up and leave of their own accord.
At present, only their small circle remained within the temple grounds.
Since nearly all the temple cooks had fled, the guests had no choice but to pitch in.
Nearby, Song Guyang was tinkering with various mechanical components.
They were planning to make dumplings, but recalling modern dumpling molds, Lu Fenghuo found wrapping them by hand far too tedious and asked Song Guyang to craft some molds. Dumplings made from a mold might lack a soul, but being able to produce them with a physical body was already good enough.
Song Guyang’s hands were remarkably graceful. Slender and porcelain-white, they looked like works of art.
From his vantage point, Lu Fenghuo could also make out Song Guyang’s long, delicate eyelashes. Perfectly separated lashes paired with light-toned pupils gave him an indescribable purity.
A mischievous impulse stirred within Lu Fenghuo, and he flicked a drop of water in Song Guyang’s direction.
Before the droplet could even leave his fingertip, however, his wrist was caught and deflected smoothly to the side.
His reflexes were fast.
Song Guyang raised his gaze. “Stop messing around.”
Lu Fenghuo flashed an OK sign with his fingers.
Though he had never encountered the gesture before, Song Guyang somehow intuitively understood its meaning.
Song Guyang released his grip.
Ah, Lu Fenghuo actually felt a slight pang of reluctance. Sure enough, the sensation of being caught by a beauty was entirely different.
Lu Fenghuo returned to washing vegetables. Scrubbing away, he suddenly found himself utterly bewildered. How on earth was one supposed to wash a mushroom? He had no clue whatsoever!
Glancing around for help, his eyes locked onto the expression of his hidden imperial guard stationed nearby.
Lu Fenghuo beckoned with a finger. “Come wash these for me. How are you supposed to clean this mushroom again? I seem to have forgotten.”
The guard stared blankly.
You didn’t forget, you simply never knew to begin with!
Song Guyang let out a soft chuckle. His laughter was warm and resonant, carrying a faint, pleasant huskiness.
Lu Fenghuo turned his head to see the white-robed figure with dark ink-black hair, his gentle brows and eyes curving with amusement.
Truly a peerless gentleman of the mortal world.
Without a shred of embarrassment, Lu Fenghuo openly enlisted his guard to help with the chores.
As a result, anyone passing by the courtyard witnessed two men dressed in black sitting stiffly at the table, wearing stern, expressionless faces as they confronted a basin of mushrooms.
And diligently scrubbing them clean.
The onlookers stared in disbelief.
Who were these two?
Lu Fenghuo sat not far away, maintaining a lazy posture.
Watching Lu Fenghuo, the crowd felt a sudden wave of resignation.
If something incomprehensible occurred, the mere presence of Lu Fenghuo nearby somehow made it all magically logical.
Silently choosing to ignore the two black-clad guards, everyone went back to their respective tasks.
The dumpling molds were finished in no time. Aided by the molds, they wrapped the dumplings with impressive speed, leaving the rest of the work to the cooks.
As evening descended, the group gathered in the main hall for dinner.
Sensing that the atmosphere lacked the festive spirit of the New Year, Lu Fenghuo pondered what entertainment to introduce. Modern times had the Spring Festival Gala, but what kind of leisure activities existed in ancient times?
Surveying the quiet room of diners, Lu Fenghuo proposed playing a few games. What games worked best? With a large group, the options were endless: Werewolf, Undercover, Charades, Seven-Pass, the list went on.
Though initially reluctant, everyone quickly discovered to their surprise that the games were thoroughly addictive.
Growing tired of games, Lu Fenghuo began leading everyone in song. He chose modern tunes. Although his clear voice possessed a fine timbre like clashing jade, he invariably drifted off-key and occasionally cracked on the high notes.
The songs he remembered best were the tunes used by square-dancing aunties in the public plazas. Though he botched some of the lyrics, keeping the melody was enough. Moreover, the dances performed by the aunties were relentlessly hypnotic, possessing true brain-washing power.
Without needing to ponder, Lu Fenghuo launched right into singing:
“It hurts so much, it really hurts so much, I miss you, miss you, miss you until the world turns dizzy…”
“My beloved, I am waiting for you at Koke-, cough, Koktokay, they say you married all the way to Ining…”
The group wore stiff expressions across their faces, enduring the excruciating torture in silence. Yet as they listened, the tunes steadily wormed their way into their minds, looping endlessly in the background.
Just as everyone had finally adapted to those melodies, Lu Fenghuo abruptly shifted styles. His vocal tone returned to normal, and though still slightly off-key, it overflowed with deep emotion:
“Where on earth is the world filled with flowers? If it truly exists, then I will surely go there…”
“A great river flows wide with rolling waves, the wind blows the fragrant rice across both banks…”
As he sang, a tinge of melancholy settled over his heart.
His homeland, his family, he still had no idea if he would ever be able to return.
Perhaps having imbibed a little wine, Lu Fenghuo felt a mild dizziness creeping in. He stood up and headed outside, intending to get some fresh air.
The White Lotus Temple boasted a large lotus pond. In the dead of winter, the pond was filled with withered lotus stems, yet it possessed a strangely desolate, withered beauty. A solitary pavilion stood right in the center of the water.
A figure sat alone inside the pavilion. He was dressed in pristine white robes layered beneath a pale blue outer garment. His skin was exceptionally fair, his eyes possessed a light tea-colored hue, and his features carried an intensely classic charm.
Every single detail of this person’s appearance had been meticulously carved and rendered by his own hands, growing precisely to match his deepest desires. Even his personality was a direct reflection of his innermost self.
How could he not love him?
In this entirely unfamiliar world, this person was the individual he understood and trusted the most.
Lu Fenghuo walked over to his side and gently traced his fingers across his brow and eyes.
“Song Guyang,” he called softly.
Song Guyang allowed him to do as he pleased.
“Song Fuguang,” Lu Fenghuo murmured, using his courtesy name.
Song Guyang looked startled, though the lapse in composure vanished in a fraction of a second. A moment later, he regained his customary unshakeable calm, smiling as he answered, “I am here.”
“Song Xiaojiu.”
I miss home.
Though an orphan in his original life, modern society was nonetheless the world where he had lived. He had grown up there, and it was the place that nurtured him.
Resting his forehead against Song Guyang’s shoulder, Lu Fenghuo slowly closed his eyes.
Song Guyang did not pull away, instead raising a hand to rest gently across his back.
A long while later, the pale blue outer garment was draped over Lu Fenghuo’s shoulders. Sweeping him up into his arms, Song Guyang carried him inside and gently laid him down upon the meditation room bed.
As he turned to leave, Lu Fenghuo instinctively hooked his fingers around Song Guyang’s.
He exerted almost no force, barely grazing a few knuckles. Yet Song Guyang stopped in his tracks and turned back to look.
“Don’t go,” Lu Fenghuo muttered.
Song Guyang turned and sat back down beside the bed.
He slept soundly through the night.
Lu Fenghuo felt as though he had been hugging a body pillow, one that radiated a warm, comfortable heat carrying a faint trace of cedarwood and sandalwood fragrance. Yet upon waking up the next morning, he found no such pillow on the bed.
It must have been a dream.
After a night of heavy drinking, his head throbbed with a dull ache. Lu Fenghuo suspected he had suffered a blackout, dimly recalling that he had gone to look for Song Guyang, but losing all recollection of what transpired afterward.
Tch. Drinking always ruined things and made one act foolish; he would never touch alcohol again.
Rising from the bed, Lu Fenghuo headed for the door.
A knock sounded from outside. Turning his head, he caught a glimpse of Madam Zhu.
Lu Fenghuo quickly invited her in.
Madam Zhu entered carrying a bowl of sobering soup, smiling as she spoke. “Everyone drank quite a bit last night, and Abbot Fu worried you would all suffer this morning, so he had me brew a pot of hangover soup at dawn. Drinking it should ease the headache considerably.”
She set the bowl down on the table.
After finishing the soup, Lu Fenghuo indeed felt much better. Stepping outside, he saw the sun was already high in the sky. Sleeping until waking naturally left his head completely clear and his entire body refreshed.
Looking around, the temple courtyards and multi-tiered rooftops drifted in and out of the morning mist. It had to be admitted, the scenery was quite striking.
Yet something seemed missing from the temple grounds.
What was it? Lu Fenghuo fell into deep thought.
Ah, Spring Festival couplets! The old couplets left over from the previous year had grown weathered and faded. With everyone busy dealing with Gongsun Bai previously, followed by cleaning the temple and preparing ingredients the day before, they had only just remembered this task today.
How could one celebrate the New Year without a festive atmosphere?
The entire point of the holiday was the joyful feeling of reunion and celebration!
Without delay, Lu Fenghuo had his guards fetch several sheets of red paper, intending to write them himself.
Although he retained the original owner’s memories, his practical experience remained limited. The characters he brushed out were neither particularly ugly nor remarkably handsome.
They just looked rather bizarre.
With a frown, Lu Fenghuo crumpled the red paper into a ball and tossed it into the wastebasket. He smoothed out a fresh sheet of paper, cleared his mind, and picked up the brush once more.
When Fu Yunming arrived, this was precisely the sight that greeted him.
Dressed in a deep purple outer robe, Lu Fenghuo stood tall and upright beneath the eaves. Wielding a writing brush in hand, his movements flowed like moving clouds and flowing water as he dashed off the characters in a single breath.
Stepping closer, he inspected the red paper. The script danced wildly across the page. While fluid and unhindered in its execution, the characters bore no resemblance to standard handwriting.
Fu Yunming stared blankly.
Shen Yuansi followed closely behind Fu Yunming. Lowering his gaze to inspect the paper, he blinked and offered his interpretation: “May all your wishes come true.”
Lu Fenghuo corrected him. “That says ‘May everyone be happy and satisfied’!”
Shen Yuansi racked his brain, completely unable to discern any similarity between the two phrases. He could not fathom how his master managed to transform ‘Everyone be happy and satisfied’ into ‘May all your wishes come true’.
Lu Fenghuo gave up. Shoving the brush into Shen Yuansi’s hands, he told the young disciple to write a few pairs of couplets instead.
Fu Yunming, however, offered a word of praise. “It is not bad at all. At the very least, regardless of how one looks at it, the auspicious intent remains clear. Being able to write couplets in such a unique style is truly a rare sight in this world.”
Lu Fenghuo offered a dry smile.
Thank you?
The couplets were left in the capable hands of his young disciple. Beyond that, Lu Fenghuo crafted a set of chibi zodiac pendants. With this year being the Year of the Rabbit, delicate little white rabbits hung above small brass wind chimes that tinkled merrily whenever the breeze caught them.
After putting up the new couplets, Lu Fenghuo hung the wind chime pendants from the eaves of several pavilions. The charms were remarkably cute, and whenever a soft breeze blew, a light, pleasing chime drifted through the temple grounds, creating an immensely relaxing ambiance.
Spotting the pendants, Madam Zhu could not help praising them. “These charms are simply adorable. I never imagined Hero Lu would know how to craft such things, what clever ingenuity.”
Lu Fenghuo was equally pleased with the results.
The original White Lotus Temple had felt cold and austere, with monks acting aloof and detached from ordinary human emotion. Redecorated in this fashion, the temple felt infinitely more cozy and warm. When the temple doors reopened after the New Year and pilgrims arrived to offer incense, seeing these charming pendants would surely give them a delightful surprise. Perhaps it might even inspire them to donate a bit more incense money?
Amused by his own train of thought, Lu Fenghuo couldn’t help chuckling aloud.
Elsewhere in the temple, Fu Yunming stood holding a stack of discarded red paper. The ink on those sheets was splashed wildly across the page in a flurry of unrestrained brushstrokes, looking like a cosmic disaster rather than actual writing, altogether indistinguishable as words. More than handwriting, they resembled childish graffiti.
They were precisely the discarded drafts written by Lu Fenghuo.
Gently stroking the red paper, Fu Yunming harbored complex thoughts hidden deep within his eyes. Carefully folding the papers, he placed them away inside a wooden box.
Before long, the Lantern Festival arrived.
By then, nearly all the Tianyang Sect disciples had departed. Because Song Guyang still needed to finalize matters with the authorities regarding the White Lotus Temple case, he remained behind for a while longer.
The ancient Lantern Festival was exceptionally lively, featuring vibrant lantern fairs, street performances, and endless rows of peddler stalls. Loving the lively warmth of human society above all else, Lu Fenghuo naturally ventured out to take part in the festivities.
At that moment, Lu Fenghuo strolled down the bustling main street. Flanked by Song Guyang and Shen Yuansi, with Fu Yunming bringing up the rear, he took in the sights.
Aside from him, the other three members of the party possessed striking appearances. In particular, the moment Song Guyang stepped onto the street, the gazes of passing pedestrians involuntarily lingered on him for several moments. With a demeanor and appearance so ethereal, he naturally drew attention wherever he went.
Wearing a disguise mask, Lu Fenghuo looked merely pleasant. Standing in the middle of a bustling crowd, his face was ordinarily considered above average, yet placed alongside the three men flanking him, he was thoroughly eclipsed into utter mediocrity.
Like a single grain of rice lost amidst a tray of pearls, he appeared completely devoid of luster.
Without comparison, there was no pain; Lu Fenghuo looked entirely out of place.
Consequently, many of the young maidens out enjoying the festival spent most of their time casting covert glances in their direction. They would glance at the three striking men, then flick their eyes to the thoroughly ordinary Lu Fenghuo standing in the middle, prompting more than a few to shake their heads in silent sympathy.
Sensing their unspoken sentiment, Lu Fenghuo could easily read between the lines: they thought he was ruining the aesthetic! Without him wedged in the middle, the trio would make an exceptionally pleasing sight. But with him standing right in the center separating them, the entire picture felt awkward.
Feeling decidedly out of place himself, Lu Fenghuo quietly shifted over to walk next to Song Guyang at the very edge of the group.
Much better.
The street was lined with numerous lantern stalls adorned with riddles attached to the lanterns. If a passerby successfully solved a riddle, the stall owner would gift them the lantern for free. Lu Fenghuo managed to solve most of them on his own, and whenever he stumbled, he had three resident geniuses right beside him.
With the three of them tagging along, visiting the lantern fair felt like having an elite strategy team. No, perhaps any single one of them alone would have sufficed, given how vast their collective knowledge reserves were.
Lu Fenghuo had initially assumed that having shadowed him for years, Shen Yuansi might have grown somewhat dull under his care, but the young man proved surprisingly brilliant. Some of the riddles proved far too obscure for Lu Fenghuo, yet Shen Yuansi solved them with ease.
Lu Fenghuo blinked.
Shen Yuansi offered a helpless, amused smile. “Master, I did attend school in the past, you know.”
Not only that, his parents had specifically hired numerous private tutors for him. Aside from academic tutors, there had been instructors for zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting. After all, the former Shen family had been Luoyang’s wealthiest merchant clan with no shortage of silver, and he was their only son. Following the destruction of the Shen family, though Shen Yuansi had followed Lu Fenghuo without continuing his formal schooling, he had already achieved enlightenment and understood how to study independently. With books at his disposal, self-study was a simple matter.
This child was truly a comfort to have around.
Hearing the explanation, Lu Fenghuo felt a warm sense of admiration.
Though Lu Fenghuo solved a good portion of the lantern riddles himself, he did not claim them all. He selected only a small, exquisite rabbit lantern before calling it a night, entirely satisfied.
Discussing the riddles with Song Guyang and the others was done purely for the fun of it, not out of any burning desire to collect lanterns. After all, sweeping up most of the prizes would only leave the stall owners disheartened. Holidays were meant for merrymaking, after all, and ensuring everyone shared in the joy was the best outcome possible.
Lu Fenghuo enjoyed a thoroughly delightful evening.
The only regret was the absence of a camera to capture and preserve these passing moments. Looking back at them in the future would surely evoke an entirely different kind of warmth.