"Young Master Zhao Qing has arrived!"
The announcement served as the prelude to a brewing conflict. Amidst the shifting shadows of flowers and the moon, a figure as ethereal as a celestial being stepped into the mortal realm. Everyone in the room was struck speechless, mesmerized by Zhao Qing’s exquisite features. It seemed impossible that a creature of such peerless beauty could truly exist in this world.
Only Leng Jing kept his head slumped against the armrest of his wheelchair. The radiance of the Dragon Mark leaked through the gaps between his fingers; had he looked up, the brilliance on his forehead would have surely caused a commotion. Thus, he could only keep his head bowed, shielding his brow with his hand.
The peerless Zhao Qing swept his gaze across the room, seeing a gathering of the contemporary elite. Only the man in the wheelchair refused to look up, which piqued his curiosity. Was that not the legendary Young Master Yuetian—Leng Yuetian—who was said to be hopelessly infatuated with him?
He couldn't help but speak: "Young Master Yuetian, are you feeling unwell?"
The whole world knew that Young Master Yuetian was incredibly frail—a brilliant yet terminally ill man whose devotion knew no bounds. Among this crowd, his background was perhaps the most intriguing.
"Ugh..." Leng Jing paused to think before replying, "My countenance is haggard. I fear I might disturb the company. I hope the Young Master understands."
Zhao Qing narrowed his eyes, appearing slightly displeased, but he quickly regained his enchanting smile. Addressing the group, he said, "It is a great honor for me, Zhao Qing, that you have all come to support me. Please, make yourselves comfortable. Allow me to perform a piece titled 'Heavenly Realm and Mortal World' for you."
An attendant presented a jade zither. Zhao Qing took his seat behind the instrument, his slender fingers plucking the strings as he began to sing.
Just as he was about to start the vocal accompaniment, Prime Minister Bai suddenly spoke up. "Young Master Zhao Qing, I did not come here for entertainment. I am here to ask a question. A year ago, you visited the Imperial Palace and persuaded His Majesty to provide massive disaster relief. Later, I had ten accountants calculate the books thirty times. Every single time, we found that one million taels of silver from the national treasury had vanished without a trace. I have investigated this for a long time, which is why I came to ask you. Upon entering this residence, I noticed that even the smallest decorations are priceless treasures. Even if you are a popular performer, you have only been famous for half a year. These furnishings and your attire are far too extravagant..."
"Silence!" Zhao Qing snapped, his voice tinged with suppressed rage. "Are you suggesting I stole money from the national treasury? What evidence do you have to slander me?"
"I am merely suspicious, not slandering," Prime Minister Bai said, sounding aggrieved. "If you didn't take it, then you didn't. Why be so fierce?"
Zhao Qing’s expression faltered for a moment before he forced another smile. "Everyone, I apologize for ruining the mood. There may be a misunderstanding here. Please, allow me to set this aside for now and finish the song." He pressed the strings, preparing to play again.
"Can't you finish the explanation first? If you took it, you took it; if you didn't, you didn't. A grown man shouldn't be so indecisive. You're acting like a woman," Prime Minister Bai muttered under his breath.
"That's enough out of you!" the others began to scold him.
Zhao Qing gritted his teeth and slapped the zither table. It took him a long moment to restrain his emotions before he finally began to play.
The music started as a plaintive, moving melody. The others were instantly captivated, tapping along to the rhythm. They were even more enchanted by Zhao Qing’s elegant demeanor; their eyes and hearts overflowed with adoration and obsession. Every movement he made tugged at their heartstrings, filling them with a strange euphoria.
However, halfway through the piece, the style shifted. It became unpredictable and seductive, like a parching wind fanning the flames of desire. The tempo quickened, becoming increasingly provocative. Combined with Zhao Qing’s bewitching gaze, his crimson lips, and his alluring posture, the audience found it impossible to restrain themselves. It was as if they were drifting through the nine heavens of desire, floating in ecstasy. Before long, one of the listeners began to dance wildly. Soon, everyone present was flailing and dancing—except for Leng Jing in his wheelchair.
Prime Minister Bai, seeing everyone else twisting and turning, felt embarrassed to remain still. He began to clumsily wave his arms and spin in circles, occasionally glancing at the others to make sure his movements were synchronized.
Seeing the crowd in such a frenzy, Zhao Qing finally achieved his goal. He broke into a long, loud laugh. "Hahahaha! The so-called heroes and legends of this world are nothing more than this! Who can resist my charm? Hahaha!"
As the song ended, the men were trapped in a state of madness, dancing without end.
"Master, the Soul-Snatching Dew combined with the Heavenly Demon Melody and your peerless beauty is truly the most powerful weapon in the world!" the attendant praised. It turned out that the "purified water" sprinkled on them at the door was actually a hallucinogenic drug.
Zhao Qing chuckled, covering his mouth as he looked at the motionless, head-bowed Young Master Yuetian. "Young Master Yuetian truly has remarkable focus. I wonder if it is because he is a cripple?"
"Ha." Leng Jing lifted his head. The radiance on his brow had faded, leaving only a silver Dragon Mark. His face, which was in no way inferior to Zhao Qing’s, drew a gasp of admiration from the entertainer.
"What a fine appearance, what magnificent poise! Though the body is broken, the spirit is not. They call you Yuetian—'Surpassing the Heavens'—and you truly possess extraordinary qualities! A pity. If I weren't the Zhao Qing I am now, I wouldn't have minded following you." As he spoke, he drew a jade sword from beneath the zither, a bloodthirsty glint appearing in his eyes.
"As I thought, your true identity is the Heavenly Demon Young Master! The great villain who has been wanted for ten years! Not only did you embezzle from the treasury, but you gathered these people here to fulfill your ambition of controlling the martial world!" Prime Minister Bai shouted, even as he continued to dance along with the others.
Zhao Qing sneered. "It seems you weren't affected by my Heavenly Demon Melody either. How strange—my luck is truly terrible today! Fine, regardless of the reason, I shall send you both to the Yellow Springs together!"
"Aaaah! Young Master Yuetian! Leave quickly!" Prime Minister Bai stopped dancing and threw himself in front of Leng Jing to shield him.
Leng Jing rubbed his chin and said intentionally, "I am a cripple with useless legs. How do you expect me to leave?"
"Then I'll carry you on my back!" Prime Minister Bai actually tried to hoist him out of the wheelchair.
"Do you take me for a fool?! You two useless wastes!" Seeing them ignore him so completely, Zhao Qing flew into a rage. He swung his sword, the blade whistling through the air, seemingly destined to take Prime Minister Bai’s head.
Leng Jing, sitting calmly in his wheelchair, picked up a cup of tea. With a flick of his finger, a single droplet of water shot out. With a crisp *clang*, the droplet struck the sharp jade sword, causing it to shatter. Zhao Qing could not withstand the immense force transmitted through that single drop of water; the webbing of his thumb tore, blood gushed out, and the sword flew from his hand.
"Ah—!" Zhao Qing cried out as he collapsed to the floor. Leng Jing flicked his finger again from a distance, sealing the man's acupoints. He then turned to Prime Minister Bai. "I have apprehended the criminal for you, My Lord."
"So fast?" Prime Minister Bai scratched his head, looking dazed. Then, realization dawned on him, and his eyes sparkled. "Young Master Yuetian is amazing! I will certainly report this to the imperial court and see that you are handsomely rewarded!"
Leng Jing shook his head, clutching his chest. "My health is poor; I rarely resort to violence. I forced my internal energy just now, and now I feel quite unwell." He made as if to faint.
Startled, Prime Minister Bai rushed to support him. "I'll go get a doctor! Wait here!"
"I don't need a doctor. I know my own body. My Lord, I beg you to take me somewhere with a bed so I can rest." Leng Jing leaned greedily against him. *What a familiar feeling. This frame is definitely Leng Qingqing.*
"Then let go of me first. If you hug my waist like that, I can't carry you on my back!" Prime Minister Bai said foolishly.
"I really wonder how you ever became Prime Minister, you wicked seven-hundred-thousand-year-old Leng Jing," Leng Jing muttered.
"I am Bai Shaoqing, a first-rank official personally appointed by the Emperor in the Golden Throne Hall. You need not doubt that," the Prime Minister replied.
Leng Jing felt a sense of "jiong" at the name. *Shaoqing*—it was exactly the kind of name that big white snake would choose.
And so, Prime Minister Bai carried the "Ugly Little Snake" away from Fengge Pavilion, leaving behind a room full of dancing fools and the paralyzed Zhao Qing lying on the floor.
***
Speaking of which, the White Marten did indeed look very much like a weasel.
By the time it finally reached Fengge Pavilion, the place had already been cordoned off by the authorities. It failed to find any trace of Leng Jing; it was, after all, one step too late.
However, the White Marten did not lose heart. it continued its three-thousand-mile journey to find its master.
***
Leng Jing was carried by Prime Minister Bai to the shabby little inn where the official was currently staying. Only then did he realize that Leng Qingqing was a very "shabby" Prime Minister, living in a state of near-total poverty.
When Prime Minister Bai opened the door, a handsome youth of about fifteen or sixteen ran out. "Dad! What did you bring back this time? Didn't I tell you not to bring mysterious things home?"
An old man also walked over. "That's right, Master. The Young Master has been worried sick waiting for you!"
Leng Jing widened his eyes at the two people before him. Prime Minister Bai introduced them: "Young Master, let me introduce you. This is my adopted son, Xiao Jing—his name is Bai Lengjing. And this is my butler, Uncle Diao!"
The youth named Bai Lengjing huffed, looking cold and aloof. His demeanor bore a striking resemblance to the defiant Leng Jing of years past. Meanwhile, Uncle Diao was rambling incessantly, very much in the style of the White Marten.
*Don't tell me you've organized a new 'Country Bumpkin Trio,' Leng Qingqing! How wicked!*
Leng Jing: = =
Leng Qingqing—now Prime Minister Bai—continued, "Xiao Jing, this is my friend, Young Master Yuetian. He is unwell and needs to rest at our home for a while."
"Can't he walk himself? He has to make Dad carry him? Hmph, I think he has ulterior motives!" the youth, Xiao Jing, snorted.
"Young Master Yuetian cannot walk," Leng Qingqing replied with his usual mindless directness.
"So he's a cripple? Dad, you're getting more and more senile. Why bring a cripple home?" The youth took an even greater dislike to Leng Jing—especially since the man dared to touch Leng Qingqing’s back!
"Oh dear, Master should put the guest down to rest! The Young Master personally made dinner for you today!" Uncle Diao tried to smooth things over.
And so, a rift seemed to form between Leng Jing and Xiao Jing, sparks flying whenever their eyes met.
***
The "New Trio" sat around the dining table, chatting and laughing as they ate. Leng Jing sat on the bed, holding the bowl of rice Leng Qingqing had given him, feeling extremely displeased.
"No appetite?" Leng Qingqing finally couldn't stop worrying. He came over and felt Leng Jing’s forehead to see if he had a fever.
The contact was scalding. A Dragon God’s body temperature becomes very high when they are angry. In the past, Leng Qingqing and the White Marten used the Dragon-model Ferrari as a thermos, a heater, an electric blanket, and a water boiler. The scenes usually went like this:
1. During a journey through a blizzard in the Great Snowy Mountains, the Dragon-model Ferrari suggested a cookout. After setting up the stand, the White Marten placed a kettle on the Dragon-model Ferrari’s forehead. The water boiled.
2. It rained, and everyone’s clothes were soaked. They took them off and draped them over the Dragon-model Ferrari. They dried instantly.
And so—
"You have a high fever!" Leng Qingqing cried out in alarm. Leng Jing took the opportunity to lean his head into Leng Qingqing’s chest, asserting his ownership.
"Dad, stay away from him! He might have some contagious disease!" Xiao Jing angrily pulled Leng Qingqing away. "I'll take him to see a doctor!"
Leng Jing narrowed his eyes, a plan forming. He said, "This is a chronic ailment caused by the Seven-Sunder Poison-Heart Orchid. I won't die just yet. Only my friends at the Imperial Academy of Medicine in the capital can treat me. If Lord Bai doesn't mind, could I travel with you when you return to the capital to report on your mission?"
"Of course! Of course!" Prime Minister Bai nodded in agreement so quickly that Xiao Jing nearly bit his tongue in frustration.
***
