After the preliminary rounds, there was a three-day hiatus. The three of us at the bottom of the rankings gathered together, along with Yan Xiangjun and Zhu Yixin—who ranked thirty-third to fortieth—to play a few rounds of gambling games to relax. However, we soon found ourselves staring at each other with long faces.
Despite her young age and impressive achievement, Yu Niannian was far from satisfied. She scribbled over the ranking list with her brush. "I can't beat a single person on here! And if I run into a fellow disciple, they might even try to throw the match for me, which is even more of a headache!"
Yi Fei was much more composed. "It is already a stroke of luck that I made the list. I have no illusions about reaching the top sixteen."
I scanned the names one by one. "The rules say the pairings are random, but in truth, they tend to pair the top sixteen against the bottom sixteen first. It’s a way to filter out those of us with lesser strength to make the later matches more exciting. Let’s just relax; as long as we don't lose embarrassingly, it’s fine!" My only worry was facing Wei Qingming. Fortunately, she was technically in the bottom sixteen, so the probability of us being in the same bracket was low... If I had known, I wouldn't have bothered making it into the top thirty-two!
Yan Xiangjun and Zhu Yixin were perfectly relaxed. Both said their current rankings were enough and they couldn't be bothered to fight for a higher spot, so they forfeited. They would simply wait for the rest to finish and take their places at the end of the list based on their existing points.
While we women were boisterously drinking and playing cards, the male cultivators from the Wujing Sect who had made the top thirty-two were also gathered. Joined by a few friends, they arrived in a grand procession at the only large tavern in the small town at the foot of Mount Yunchun.
Hearing familiar voices downstairs, Zhu Yixin scrambled up and pushed open the window, intending to greet them with a joke. However, having had a bit too much to drink, her hand slipped, and the wooden prop holding the window open fell out.
The prop was headed straight for Duan Hongyun’s shoulder. An expert of his caliber instinctively shifted his body, dodging it with ease. Instead, Qiao Songlin executed a swift footwork maneuver, stepped into the center, and caught the prop in his hand. With a deft twirl, he tossed it back up to the third floor, where it landed perfectly back into Zhu Yixin’s warm, soft palm.
She stared at the prop with bleary, drunken eyes for a moment before snapping angrily, "You hit me!"
Laughter erupted both upstairs and down. Zhu Yixin wasn't about to let it go; she grabbed a half-full wine bottle and hurled it down, heedless of the wine splashing onto bystanders. Below, the crowd laughed and scrambled to avoid the droplets of fragrant, cool Autumn Dew White. Qiao Songlin unhurriedly pulled out his red-and-gold plum blossom umbrella—the one he always kept ready to shield Zhu Yixin from wind and rain—and blocked the rain of wine. He then used the tip of the umbrella to gently catch the jade bottle, took it in his hand, saw there was still a bit left at the bottom, and tilted his head back to drain it.
The crowd cheered. Yu Niannian, acting like a mischievous little adult, suppressed her laughter as she supplied Zhu Yixin with "ammunition." Soon, wine cups, bowls, and chopsticks were flying out of the window like a volley of arrows. Qiao Songlin caught some and ignored others, while mischievous onlookers kicked the falling dishes back up or tossed them around for fun.
I was laughing so hard I was pounding the table when I noticed Yan Xiangjun, unsmiling and silent, take an object wrapped in a gaudy pink handkerchief from her pouch and drop it out the window. The pink silk drifted down like a blooming peony, but the contents inside were most uncouth: a bright orange bellyband and a lock of a woman's hair tied with a red string...
Yu Niannian and I exchanged looks. The taste was vulgar and the material coarse; it certainly wasn't hers. She must have caught some lover's indiscretion. Zhu Yixin had fallen asleep, slumped over the windowsill, while Yi Fei remained perfectly proper, too bashful to even look down.
The unlucky soul who frantically caught the items was a Wujing Sect cultivator named Rong Zizheng. Yan Xiangjun gave him a cold, sidelong glance before turning away. Ignoring his friends' raucous teasing, he scrambled up the stairs in a panic.
Wei Qingming watched all of this with a smile, her hands tucked in her sleeves. I leaned out the window with a grin, plucked a soft, pale pink cotton rose I had pinned in my hair that afternoon, and gently tossed it to her. As expected, she caught it between her fingers and looked up at me with eyes full of tender affection. She brought the flower to her nose for a light sniff before pinning it to her lapel.
In front of all of us, Rong Zizheng spent an eternity coaxing and pleading until Yan Xiangjun finally granted him a faint, half-hearted smile. Overjoyed, Rong Zizheng didn't know what to do with himself and insisted on merging our tables, declaring the entire feast was on him. While the others had hurried up the stairs, Wei Qingming followed behind Rong Zizheng with a leisurely pace. In the autumn wind, the cotton rose looked even more delicate and fair, complementing her clean, jade-like features.
During the meal, as I served Wei Qingming some soup, I said, "I definitely won't make it past the match the day after tomorrow. That way, I can focus on watching your matches."
She smiled and said softly, "Last time A-Zhi was watching, my hands and feet went clumsy from nerves. I made quite a few mistakes."
I immediately cried out, "Does it really have such a big impact? Then... I won't go watch..."
Her smile deepened, her eyes curving into crescents. When she didn't speak for a long time, I realized I had fallen for the Envoy's trick again. I huffed at her and scooped a large spoonful of beast meat into her bowl, forcing her to eat it. As she slowly worked through the meat, I chattered away about idle matters, eventually asking about the Crown Prince's recent state. The little prince had intended to watch Master Wei's matches, but after waiting four or five days without seeing her, he had disappointedly skipped two days. Naturally, that was when she finally took the stage. Since it was late at night, Eunuch Cui hadn't allowed the attendants to wake him, and by the time he woke up, she was already gone.
His Highness had been fuming. He summoned Master Wei and only became satisfied after listening to her vivid, gestured description of the fight, which left him enthralled and shouting in excitement.
"Speaking of which," Wei Qingming said, taking a sip of tea to clear her throat, "I've found some leads regarding the 'Auspicious Sign' of the sword sacrifice. It’s the same group from the ambush on the Day of Purification—our old friends, the Thousand Colors Palace."
I was shocked. Although I hadn't been in contact with Wei Qingming for six or seven years, I had heard plenty about the Thousand Colors Palace through my business with the Nie family and the House of Dreams. In recent years, their business had shrunk significantly. They had even lost their home base in the Guanzhong region, let alone other parts of the country. It was a total collapse, with only the Wanbaotong in the capital barely staying afloat. The Wantong Chamber of Commerce, ranked second in the capital region, had originally taken its name from Wanbaotong and was controlled by the Palace Master of the Thousand Colors Palace. However, in recent years, the leadership had changed; Ling Chunan, formerly the vice-president, had leaped to the position of president. Under Ling’s leadership, the Wantong Chamber of Commerce had absorbed many other merchants and swallowed small guilds in Zhaozhou. It had grown so large it now rivaled the top-ranked Dayou Chamber of Commerce, while Wanbaotong was increasingly marginalized. I finally understood why Ling Chunan and Wei Qingming had been so close when I was buying shops and hosting dinners back then. Common interests make for common friends...
Furthermore, the imperial court had arrested a group of Thousand Colors Palace operatives under the guise of cracking down on grave robbers. These people had elegant aliases—Tingwulü, Huangbulao, Mitoutuo—all names of colors. Although those three hadn't been caught, there were always similar names on the list of those to be executed after autumn. It seemed the wealth Wei Qingming had scraped from the Thousand Colors Palace was partially turned over to the public, partially pocketed, and partially given to President Ling, with the lion's share surely going to her godfather... Sigh, Master Wei was diligent, patient, and ruthless. Anyone who offended her would likely never escape her grasp for the rest of their lives.
"The grave robbing in the capital six years ago had a motive, but what is the point of provoking the disciples of the Three Great Sects and fabricating an Auspicious Sign?"
"The Zhonghe Tomb contained clues to the Six Paths Reincarnation Mirror and the Thousand Truths Thousand Illusions Map. The Auspicious Sign is related to the First Mountain Sword."
I understood now and stuck out my tongue. "The Palace Master has such peculiar hobbies. Is he specifically chasing the Four Divine Artifacts? He’s only missing the Myriad Demon Bone to complete the set... But I showed that small tube to Master, and she said it was just an ancient object with illusion magic, not the Thousand Illusions Map."
"Oh?" Wei Qingming chuckled softly. "Once A-Zhi returns to the mountain, you might want to ask your Master about it again."
As we spoke, a terrifying but logical possibility occurred to me. I gasped, "Since only the Myriad Demon Bone is missing... on the Day of Purification, at Tianshan... could that Senior Yin have been after..."
"Yes," Wei Qingming said calmly. "Tianshan is closely linked to the Myriad Demon Bone."
I was speechless, my mouth hanging open. No wonder demonic beasts experienced bloodline disturbances whenever they neared Tianshan; it was the summons of the Ancestor of All Demons!
"However... it is all in the past. Mingyu is dead." Wei Qingming’s voice was cold and desolate, like the moon reflecting on an autumn river, carrying a myriad of emotions.
I was infected by this sudden, inexplicable melancholy and reached out to squeeze her hand tightly. She turned and smiled, changing the subject as usual. "Is A-Zhi not curious about who that Senior Yin really is?"
"Of course I am!" I said. "I asked you at the very beginning, but you said you hadn't found out yet. Eldest Brother knows, but he’s been tight-lipped about it."
"Her name is Yin Huadi," Wei Qingming said with a mysterious smile. "What we saw that day was only her phantom manifestation; otherwise, I wouldn't have dared to provoke her. She truly has deep roots with your Master."
*Yin* meant red, and *Di* meant purple. It fit the naming convention of the Thousand Colors Palace perfectly, and it also wove Master’s color and her own together.
"Actually, Brother Lu has already written about this history in your sect’s chronicles." Wei Qingming handed me a copy. "A-Zhi can take a look when you have time."
Speaking of which, over the past six months, we had another important task: organizing and revising our sect’s martial arts. This work was mostly done through discussions between Qiao Songlin and Wei Qingming, with occasional suggestions from me and Eldest Brother. It was primarily the work of those two martial experts. No wonder Fourth Brother got along so well with her; they had spent quite some time sparring in private, browsing the library, and talking late into the night. Even during the vacation at Prince Chen’s villa, they could be seen huddled together discussing techniques, sketching and crossing out moves on paper. If Master knew of her contributions, she couldn't possibly refuse such a 'son-in-law'!
I was actually happier that, besides a lover, she now had friends. She was no longer the person who trusted no one, the girl who had been cold, proud, and solitary since childhood. She was gradually gaining a soft, human warmth.
After the banquet, she walked me back to my quarters and then left in a hurry after receiving a letter from Honglu. I closed the door, threw myself onto the bed, and opened the manuscript. The handwriting was a copy of Eldest Brother’s, with Wei Qingming’s circles and annotations in the margins. I read it line by line, occasionally leaning in to sniff the fragrance of her ink. And she called me stingy—she clearly couldn't bring herself to use that cake of Azure Scale Marrow ink I gave her either.
Master never spoke to us about her past lineage. Aside from the Thousand Illusions, she didn't even hang portraits of past ancestors. Lu Kaifeng had only written this chronicle because the change in the constitution required it; she had been forced to summon him alone before we set out to secretly impart the details. We had asked her about her past before, of course, but she would just irritably twist our ears: "Your Master sprang from a crack in a rock! No parents, no lineage! If you're trying to dig up some great-grandfather to lord over me, forget it!"
In truth, her saying so only proved that such an ancestor did exist; otherwise, what would there be to fear?
Lu Kaifeng mentioned several names in the lineage. Some were famous masters of illusion, while others were obscure figures whose lives were unknown. Our founding ancestor was truly eccentric. He had also taken nine disciples, but as soon as the first few finished their training, he washed his hands of everything and vanished. His name remained unknown, and he referred to himself only as "Xi Bi Ren"—The Man from the Western Border.
Master was his second disciple. Currently, the eldest disciple had died of illness. There was also a third sister, five or six years younger than Master, who was Yin Huadi. Then there were two junior brothers and four junior sisters. Xi Bi Ren had vanished once the fourth and fifth disciples broke through to the Cloud-Swallowing Realm. At that time, the eldest disciple managed the sect's affairs, and Master must have been her usual rowdy, troublemaking self. Yin Huadi had been closest to her; there was likely some romantic ambiguity between them. Of course, none of that would be written down, as Master would certainly disdain to speak of it.
Reading this, I gasped. This meant Senior Yin was our Martial Aunt! And she was closely tied to the Thousand Colors Palace—no wonder Meng Tingwu knew a few basic illusion tricks...
Later, for unknown reasons, the disciples of Xi Bi Ren split apart. As their teacher, he never stepped in to mediate and remained missing. Finally, Master lost her patience and left the sect to found the Mountain of Old Dreams. The eldest disciple, already gravely ill, died of a broken heart, while Yin Huadi somehow ended up joining the Thousand Colors Palace. The other disciples scattered like clouds in the wind. Master didn't care where they went, so the chronicles said no more.
***
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
秋露白 | Autumn Dew White | A famous type of traditional Chinese wine.
木芙蓉 | Cotton Rose | Hibiscus mutabilis, a flower that changes color.
千色宫 | Thousand Colors Palace | An antagonist organization/sect.
万宝通 | Wanbaotong | A major trading firm or business house.
万通商会 | Wantong Chamber of Commerce | A powerful merchant guild.
凌初南 | Ling Chunan | The president of the Wantong Chamber of Commerce.
六道轮回镜 | Six Paths Reincarnation Mirror | One of the four divine artifacts.
千真千幻图 | Thousand Truths Thousand Illusions Map | One of the four divine artifacts.
首山剑 | First Mountain Sword | One of the four divine artifacts.
万妖骨 | Myriad Demon Bone | One of the four divine artifacts.
殷华菂 | Yin Huadi | The protagonist's martial aunt (Shishu).
西鄙人 | Xi Bi Ren | The grandmaster of the sect; literally "The Man from the Western Border."
明矞 | Mingyu | Likely a name or title related to the Tianshan incident/Yin Huadi.
