(13)
The sky was duskily dark as the crowd watching the inner sect assessment gradually dispersed. The slanted sun faded into the mountain woods, and the brilliant evening clouds, like the sun’s lingering embers, were swallowed up by the night curtain bit by bit.
Yan Zhun was still shocked that Jiang Xing could actually take first place, talking endlessly about the scene of the assessment just now, completely oblivious to Zishu Bai’s silence. “How did he learn those spells? A few days ago he didn’t even know the Cleansing Spell. Could it be that he actually knew how to use them, but just disdained to use such simple spells?”
He really hid his light under a bushel; who would have thought Jiang Xing had this up his sleeve? Perhaps they had truly underestimated him earlier.
Zishu Bai echoed him softly with little enthusiasm, his mind still filled with the scene of Jiang Xing leaving arm-in-arm with Wu Moxun. He felt somewhat short of breath, his chest tight and stifled.
When they reached the fork in the path between the North and South Hall, he finally interrupted Yan Zhun, speaking in a low voice: “I’m a bit tired, I have to go back first.”
Only then did Yan Zhun notice he was in a bad mood, saying softly: “Aren’t you going to my place to congratulate Jiang Xing? He’ll probably move to the East Palace very soon.”
He knew Zishu Bai valued loyalty and righteousness and had always regarded Jiang Xing as a friend; there was no way he would envy Jiang Xing for taking first place because of this, so Zishu Bai must really be tired.
Zishu Bai slowly shook his head. “We’re in the same sect; there will always be chances to congratulate him in the future.”
Seeing him say so, Yan Zhun didn’t urge him further either. “Alright, I’ll pass your words along. Go get some rest quickly.”
The two parted ways right there. Zishu Bai didn’t know how he got back to his room, his entire person listless like an eggplant hit by frost.
He sat before the writing desk, spread out a sheet of letter paper, and dipped his brush in ink.
In all the time since leaving home, this was the first time Zishu Bai had written a letter.
Grandma was the oldest living elder in the village. She was widely experienced, had weathered many storms, and in Zishu Bai’s eyes, she seemed to know everything. Any difficult puzzle, as long as it was told to Grandma, would surely bring him the most correct answer.
He earnestly told Grandma everything that had happened today—his favorable impression of Jiang Xing, his unprovoked emotions, as well as the fire that was inexplicably stifled and hard to extinguish in his heart.
A flame ignited at his fingertips, sending the written letter back to his hometown with spiritual power.
In just a short moment, he received a reply.
【To my worthy grandson: My body is healthy, no need to worry.
I have read your letter word by word.
You like Jiang Xing, value him, and wish to gain his recognition, so much so that you have lost your original mindset. Developing possessiveness toward a good friend is not a bad thing, but a difficult problem that everyone will experience.
Go try making friends with other disciples; do not keep your eyes fixed solely on him. By not chasing after him, perhaps you will instead gain his affection.】
Zishu Bai read the letter in a daze, suddenly realizing: so his loss of composure today was possessiveness toward a friend.
In the past at the village, he had many friends, and everyone got along harmoniously, so he had never paid such close attention to any single person. After coming to Wuwang Sect, he had no other good friends besides Yan Zhun and Jiang Xing, which was why he cherished these few friends so exceptionally.
Grandma truly hit the nail on the head; he indeed should make more friends, so that he wouldn’t care about how good the relationship between Jiang Xing and Wu Moxun was.
His mind suddenly broadened, and the tightness in his chest dissolved accordingly. Zishu Bai folded the letter neatly and placed it on the bookshelf.
Lying down on the soft couch, he suddenly remembered that since blending spiritual sense with Jiang Xing, he hadn’t yet dreamed of Jiang Xing.
After thinking it over, he still decided not to sleep and to continue cultivating, to prevent himself from developing an even more excessive possessiveness toward Jiang Xing after dreaming of him.
He just didn’t know what Jiang Xing had dreamed about him… He really wanted to know.
Zishu Bai pursed his lips tightly, and after a moment, let out a soft sigh.
It seemed that to wear down this possessiveness, he would need to go make many, many friends.
*
Early the next morning.
Jiang Xing packed up his luggage, preparing to move to the East Palace.
He could finally break free from that idiot Yan Zhun; from now on he would never have to endure world-shaking snoring again. Just this point alone was enough for him to celebrate properly.
Although he hadn’t been at Wuwang Sect for long, the original body’s belongings were truly too numerous. Jiang Xing spent a whole morning just packing; the original body had probably moved his entire household over, even including pots, pans, bowls, and basins.
Jiang Xing threw away more than half, but the remaining things still had to be moved in several trips. Getting Wu Moxun to help him was definitely impossible; in the end, it was Yan Zhun who couldn’t bear to watch and helped him carry books.
“You should’ve said so earlier! I could’ve called Brother Xiao Bai over to help you move too,” Yan Zhun was working up a sweat all over his head. “If Brother Xiao Bai were here, he’d cast a spell and send it right over to the East Palace for you.”
Zishu Bai.
They clearly hadn’t met for only a few days, yet Jiang Xing felt like he hadn’t been pestered by this idiot for a long time.
Did he come during the inner sect assessment yesterday?
Jiang Xing originally wanted to ask, but on second thought, it was a good thing that Zishu Bai wasn’t coming to pester him anymore—why should he care what Zishu Bai was doing?
That Zishu Bai was going to be personally sent into the inner sect by the Sect Master; there was no need for a cannon fodder like him to worry.
Just as he was mulling it over, a book dropped from the bundle in Jiang Xing’s arms. He bent down with some difficulty to pick it up, but a hand beat him to it and picked the book up first.
His expression froze for a moment. He raised his head, and sure enough, it was Zishu Bai.
He really was everywhere. What was he doing at the South Palace so early in the morning? Couldn’t be here to congratulate him, right?
Jiang Xing sneered disdainfully in his heart. He still had a score to settle with Zishu Bai—forcing him to say such disgusting words in the dream. He really hadn’t expected Zishu Bai to be so narcissistic and shameless in private.
He stared at Zishu Bai frostily. The other party placed the book back into his arms, asking in a soft voice as usual: “Do you need my help?”
“No need.” Jiang Xing spat out this single sentence without even thinking, his tone unable to conceal his disdain.
“Mm.”
Zishu Bai responded exceedingly casually, turning his eyes toward Yan Zhun. “I want to treat my friends in the East Palace to a meal. How about we eat at Babao Pavilion down the mountain at noon?”
Holding that heavy bundle, Jiang Xing’s expression stiffened for a moment.
What did he mean?
Holding a armful of books that was stacked higher than his head, Yan Zhun couldn’t see the expressions on their faces at all, calling out loudly: “You have friends in the East Palace too? How come I’ve never heard of them?”
“Just met them.” Zishu Bai chuckled softly, casually helping him carry a portion of the books. “You’ll definitely get along with them. One of them is also a disciple of Talisman Peak, and has a Wood Spiritual Root just like you.”
“Such a coincidence? Then it’s my treat, let’s eat at Babao Pavilion!”
“No, it’s your treat every time. It should finally be my turn this time.”
“The thing I lack least is money, why be polite with me…”
They chatted enthusiastically, completely failing to notice that Jiang Xing’s face was turning darker and darker.
He didn’t say a word as he held his luggage, right up until he walked into his new room in the East Palace.
It was indeed much roomier, yet empty and desolate, permeating a lonely atmosphere that wouldn’t dissipate.
Zishu Bai and Yan Zhun chatted the whole way, put down the luggage, and helped him clean the room.
Jiang Xing didn’t open his mouth to utter a single word from start to finish, keeping his head lowered as he organized his small couch on his own.
Only when Yan Zhun recovered his senses did he pat his shoulder, “By the way, are you going or not?”
Jiang Xing’s figure paused slightly. After a moment, he said coldly: “Not going.”
As if he had expected it long ago, Yan Zhun laughed jokingly: “Look down on us after entering the inner sect, huh? I knew it, you definitely want to go eat with that inner sect Senior Brother.”
Hearing their words, the expectation deep in Zishu Bai’s eyes dissipated bit by bit. Placing the books on the bookshelf to organize them carefully, he said in a low voice: “It’s alright, I understand. Let’s just go.”
Tucking the last book into the bookshelf, he said with a smile: “Everything is packed away. We’re leaving, goodbye Jiang Xing.”
The fingers Jiang Xing concealed inside his sleeve curled tight slightly, ignoring them. Soon, the sound of the door opening and closing came from behind, and the huge room instantly fell quiet, leaving only Jiang Xing himself.
He didn’t need those two idiots.
After entering the inner sect, he could also get to know other people; any single one would be better than the two of them.
One had no skill, the other had no ambition—he didn’t need this kind of friend at all; such people would only be burdens.
In the final analysis, so-called friends had no meaning whatsoever; it was merely weaklings huddling together for warmth.
He raised his head, only to see that the room that had been completely empty just now had been arranged clean and tidy. The vase on the desk held a plum branch full of vigor, and warm sunlight poured in from outside the window, soft and bright.
Jiang Xing walked to the front of the table, plucked the plum branch from the vase, and threw it hard out the window.
*
Time flew like a shuttle; spring departed and summer arrived.
The rainfall in early summer this year was extraordinarily frequent, lasting for three to five days without stopping every time. The pitter-patter of rain made the whole sky thick and hazy.
Having entered the inner sect for a full two months, Jiang Xing spent every day doing nothing other than going to listen to the elders’ lectures or practicing his sword.
Most of the inner sect disciples were top geniuses from various peaks—proud in temperament and coming and going alone. The only two people Jiang Xing could speak a few words to were Wu Moxun and Fang Wenjie. Wu Moxun treated him reasonably well, sometimes calling him to practice swordplay for a bit, only to soon disdain his sword technique for being too poor and tell him to scram back and learn by himself. Fang Wenjie, on the other hand, was merely a nodding acquaintance.
Jiang Xing seemed to have gotten used to this flat, waveless, and somewhat boring cultivation life.
Zishu Bai and Yan Zhun never came looking for him again.
This was also very normal; after all, the East Palace was far from both the North and South Hall, and ordinary outer sect disciples didn’t dare enter or exit the inner sect disciples’ living quarters at will.
It was just that what puzzled Jiang Xing was that, unlike what was written in the original book, Zishu Bai had consistently not entered the inner sect.
Perhaps the Sect Master had talked with Zishu Bai about entering the inner sect, but Zishu Bai hadn’t agreed.
He said he had no ambition, and indeed he didn’t! If he had even a bit of promise, readers wouldn’t have felt so aggrieved when reading the book.
For Zishu Bai, without a necessary reason, he wouldn’t climb one step higher. He only liked a peaceful and happy life; if his parents hadn’t forced him to come to Wuwang Sect to cultivate, Zishu Bai would probably be content to stay in that small village in his hometown, being a farmer for a lifetime.
Now that idiot was probably eating, drinking, and having fun with his so-called “friends”—he just didn’t know whether it was Babao Pavilion or Xinghe Pavilion, or what delicacies and gourmet banquets they were eating?
Jiang Xing let out a cold sneer in his heart, thinking about Zishu Bai no further. Today was the first time he accepted a demon-slaying mission; compared to those matters, he cared more about the contents of the mission.
Fang Wenjie handed him the scroll with the demon-slaying mission written on it, briefly explaining the main points to pay attention to: “Inner sect disciples going on missions can freely form teams, or choose outer sect disciples. Whomever you want to pick to use, you just pick—the elders will send someone to notify them.”
Hearing this, Jiang Xing’s expression shifted slightly, and he said in a cool voice: “What if the person I pick isn’t willing to go?”
Fang Wenjie smiled with deep meaning: “The power of inner sect disciples is far greater than you imagine.”
Jiang Xing understood his meaning in an instant: outer sect disciples only had the destiny of being chosen, to be used however inner sect disciples wanted to use them. After all, what the outer sect lacked least was cannon fodder.
Lowering his eyes to look at the scroll in his palm, he slowly tightened his hand, letting out a low laugh: “Thank you Senior Brother for the guidance. I have someone in mind.”
Half an incense stick of time later.
Zishu Bai, who was teaching Yan Zhun spells, suddenly heard someone knock on the room door.
He exchanged a glance with Yan Zhun, saying in a low voice: “I’ll go check, maybe someone came to call us out for a spring outing.”
The weather had cleared up these past few days, and they had long agreed to go on an outing. Thinking this way, Zishu Bai pushed open the room door, only to see a face he hadn’t seen for a long time.
A fair face that leaned somewhat cold, brows slightly lowered, those eyes like thin snow that had melted just a bit atop a mountain peak—appearing exceptionally cold and unfathomable beneath the overcast clouds.
His heart beat faster for no reason, as if someone had suddenly plucked a string that had originally been quiet.
Zishu Bai’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, his hand resting on the doorframe not quite knowing where to place itself.
“Jiang Xing, did you come to find me…” His voice was very light, carrying a trace of joy that was hard to notice.
Except before he could finish speaking, Zishu Bai saw Jiang Xing ignore him completely, walking straight toward Yan Zhun, grabbing his collar in one scoop to lift him up, and saying in a cold voice: “Come with me.”
Yan Zhun: “??”