Chapter 6#
Destined by Heaven#
Faint spiritual energy fluorescence seeped from Yan Wushu’s fingertips, dancing and swirling as it dissipated into the burning twilight.
The setting sun was sinking inch by inch into the western mountains, tired birds returned to the forest, and the mountain wind grew stronger.
Xiao Man lay back in the rocking chair. Yan Wushu leaned forward, meeting those pitch-black eyes, and smiled: “I asked you before, but you said you had no interest in learning the sword. Now you’ve suddenly changed your attitude, so I’m very curious.”
The distance was too close; every detail on the other’s face could be seen clearly. Xiao Man looked away. But in the next instant, he realized he shouldn’t retreat like this, forced himself to straighten his back, and stared steadily back at Yan Wushu, saying: “The reason is simple.”
“Oh?”
“I just want to change certain things destined by heaven,” Xiao Man said, his pitch-black eyes reflecting Yan Wushu’s appearance, his gaze and tone extremely cold.
This time, it was Yan Wushu’s turn to be silent.
The so-called things destined by heaven referred to nothing other than that thread of marriage.
Yan Wushu pondered for a moment and said softly: “Little Phoenix, this matter is quite difficult to change.”
“It’s just defying heaven,” Xiao Man’s tone was indifferent.
Xiao Man’s realm could not withstand too much spiritual energy from a high-realm cultivator. When it was about to reach the limit, Yan Wushu withdrew his hand. Without a word, Xiao Man stood up and walked towards the outside of the corridor.
“You really are angry with me,” Yan Wushu followed behind Xiao Man.
“Lord Lingguang has misunderstood,” Xiao Man said softly.
“Though you are stubborn, you never persist in important matters.” This referred to Xiao Man’s disregard for his injured body and ignoring advice to go to Baihua Peak to learn the sword.
“Furthermore, if not out of anger, why call me by such a distant title?” This meant Xiao Man using “Lord Lingguang” to address him.
Xiao Man stopped in his tracks, eyes downcast as he stared at the flower branches swaying in the dim shadows not far away, thinking carefully for a while: “Addressing you directly as Lord Lingguang is indeed somewhat inappropriate. According to my current seniority, I should call you Peak Master Yan.”
“…” Yan Wushu said, “You used to call me Senior Brother.”
“But I am not your junior brother.” Xiao Man’s lips curled into a smile, short-lived and cold.
The mountain wind blew against his robes, and the dim sky light outlined everything in the courtyard deeply. Xiao Man shook his sleeves and turned his head to Yan Wushu: “It’s getting late. I’m going back to Qiyin Residence to prepare for tomorrow’s lessons. Thank you, Peak Master Yan, for healing my injuries.”
With that, he walked away without looking back, riding the wind back to the courtyard in Xueyi Peak that nominally belonged to him.
The green lotus in the pond had withered, with only a few red fish darting between the roots; the evening candles in the stone lanterns were lit, illuminating the figure of a young boy in front of the door. Rong Yuan was squatting on the stone steps decocting medicine, the faint firelight under the medicine pot flickering, its bitterness overpowering the delicate fragrance of the tuberoses in the corner. He had been pinching his nose, and upon noticing Xiao Man, he hurriedly stood up to salute.
Xiao Man looked at the stove, remembering what he had eaten at Wugu Tower at noon.
Since he had fasted, he had never eaten such worldly food again—of course, perhaps it was because the vegetarian meals at Dazhao Temple were not good. Today, having eaten the food of Gushan once, he found the taste very beautiful, and actually felt a bit unable to part with it.
After hesitating, Xiao Man asked: “Do you know how to cook?”
Rong Yuan tilted his head: “Does Your Highness mean steaming rice?”
Xiao Man had seen others steam rice; it was nothing more than mixing a few bowls of rice with a small amount of water and putting it on the stove. He obviously didn’t mean that, correcting Rong Yuan: “Stir-frying dishes.”
“I know some home-cooked ones.”
“Like?”
Rong Yuan counted on his fingers: “Like sour and spicy shredded potatoes, sour and spicy shredded radish, shredded pork with green peppers, shredded beef with pickled peppers, shredded pork with garlic sauce, and cold shredded chicken.”
“Why are they all shredded?” Xiao Man was quite curious.
“Shredding is no easy task, it’s very suitable for practicing sword skills.” Rong Yuan stood with his hands on his hips, his brow filled with pride.
Xiao Man thought for a bit: “Then cold shredded chicken, not too spicy, and then make a soup. Make it quick.”
“Now? But I have…” Rong Yuan pouted towards the stove, looking a bit troubled.
Xiao Man took the cattail leaf fan and fire tongs from his hand, “I’ll do it.”
“How can I trouble you with such a small matter!” Rong Yuan was shocked.
“It’s not like I can cook,” Xiao Man said.
Rong Yuan agreed, turned to walk half a step, then realized a problem: “But Your Highness, our Qiyin Residence doesn’t have a pot!”
“Go borrow one,” Xiao Man gave him a suggestion.
“Oh.”
Rong Yuan quickly went out the door, looked around, and chose the path leading to the Dao Hall.
He clearly remembered that for a period of time, Yan Wushu had taken an interest in studying recipes when he had nothing to do, so that Dao Hall had all the pots and pans, even oil, salt, soy sauce, and vinegar.
On the way, Rong Yuan happened to hunt a chicken in the forest, dug up some radishes and picked a handful of vegetables. (Hunting wild animals harms life; the plot of the article requires it, viewers please do not imitate.)
At the Dao Hall, he saw Yan Wushu sitting in the rocking chair on the porch, his gaze deep, gazing at the distant sky. The moon rose in the east, fuller than last night, its bright light flooding the mountains, clear and brilliant, very eye-catching.
Rong Yuan saluted Yan Wushu. The latter had noticed him long ago, but only now turned his head to look: “What are you doing here?”
“His Highness said he wanted to eat cold shredded chicken. Qiyin Residence has no cooking utensils, so Rong Yuan came to borrow the kitchen.” Rong Yuan held up the mountain chicken for Yan Wushu to see.
Yan Wushu’s gaze flickered over the chicken and asked: “During the time I was in seclusion, where has His Highness been and who has he seen?”
Rong Yuan thought for a moment and replied: “Except for that trip out last night, His Highness has been at Xueyi Peak and hasn’t seen anyone.”
“I see.” Yan Wushu frowned slightly, waved his hand at Rong Yuan, signaling him to go to the kitchen.
The wind in the courtyard, which had stopped at some point, picked up again, the flower branches shaking incessantly. Yan Wushu looked back at the moon in the sky, tapping his palm with his folding fan.
“Then why did he suddenly get angry? And get so heavily injured? There was a brawl on Baihua Peak yesterday, but those involved were just a group of low-level disciples, and he was at Xueyi Peak. No one could have struck him heavily past the restrictions without alerting me…”
Yan Wushu muttered in a low voice, then closed his eyes, concentrated his mind, and began to deduce and trace back.
Xiao Man flicked his fingers, lighting all the stone lanterns in Qiyin Residence, making the courtyard as bright as day. He sat where Rong Yuan had just sat, glanced at the stove, and the fire that had flared up from the wind immediately grew smaller, turning into a thin strip, jumping slowly.
Xiao Man showed a satisfied expression, took another storage ring out of his own and immersed his divine sense into it.
This was the one given by Baihua Peak; Xiao Man remembered there was a course schedule inside. He took it out to look and found that tomorrow morning was a formation class.
Similar to today’s talisman class, the books used for the formation class were also introductory. Xiao Man’s interest in formations was stronger than in talismans. He had studied them for several years, and although he couldn’t be called an expert, his level was at least above average. The content of this book was too shallow, so after flipping through the table of contents and the first and last two pages, he put it back.
He took out other books and flipped through them one by one. The ones he finally left out to read carefully were the Gushan heart method and the introductory sword technique.
About an hour later, Rong Yuan returned to Qiyin Residence carrying a food box. As soon as he entered, he said: “Your Highness, the food is ready. Where do you plan to eat?”
Xiao Man closed his book and stood up, pointing to the stone table in the southeast corner of the courtyard.
“Got it!” Rong Yuan shouted in imitation of a waiter in a restaurant at the foot of the mountain, walked quickly to that spot, lifted the lid, and laid out the dishes.
The first dish was the cold shredded chicken Xiao Man had specifically asked for, a heaped plate. The shredded chicken was bright in color, sprinkled with coriander, green onions, and chopped red chilies on top.
The second dish was stir-fried vegetables. Xiao Man couldn’t quite recognize what vegetable it was, but it was bright green and translucent.
The soup was chicken soup, with dates and wolfberries added, the soup color golden.
“I specifically chose peppers sent from the north. Although they look red, they aren’t spicy.”
“The chickens on Xueyi Peak grow up eating spiritual rice and plants. They taste quite different from ordinary chickens; the meat is particularly tender.”
“Although the chicken soup wasn’t boiled for long, I used a talisman. I tasted it before it came out of the pot, and the flavor is not bad.”
As Rong Yuan spoke, he set the bowl and chopsticks for Xiao Man.
Xiao Man sat down and said warmly: “You eat too.”
“Thank you, Your Highness, but I took an Inedia pill not long ago, so I won’t be hungry for the next half month.” Rong Yuan shook his head, served a bowl of soup for Xiao Man, and went back to the stove where the medicine was being brewed.
Rong Yuan’s cooking skills were not bad, but compared to the masters in Wugu Tower, they still lacked some heat. Xiao Man ate a little and put down his chopsticks, continuing to read the book from before.
Gushan’s heart method was extremely subtle. Even this introductory book had many points to be savored. Xiao Man read carefully, and before he knew it, the moon was high in the sky, and the hour of midnight was approaching. Looking to the side, the stove fire had long since gone out, the decocted medicine was placed in the food box, and Rong Yuan was sitting on the steps hugging his knees, sleeping soundly.
Xiao Man stared at the food box for a while, eventually stood up to drink the medicine, then sent Rong Yuan back to his room and extinguished the lights in the courtyard with a wave of his sleeve.
The next day at the hour of Maoshi (5-7 AM), as the first light dawned, Xiao Man left Xueyi Peak.
There was still some time before the morning class began. Xiao Man did not ride the wind himself, but took a flying beast as he did yesterday. He liked this feeling of traveling slowly through the clouds, being able to take in the world unhurriedly.
The morning breeze brushed his face, his sleeves fluttering. The diligence of the Gushan disciples was as usual. Xiao Man once again heard the sound of swords, rising from the riverside, from the forest, from everywhere, echoing together.
Not long after, Tingyun Peak appeared before his eyes. This was the most solitary and absolute peak of Gushan, like a sword piercing into the clouds. There was no one on the peak; except for the chirping of birds and insects, no other sound could be heard.
The Peak Master and Elders here were the most mysterious existences in Gushan. It was heard that they had been traveling outside, leaving a grand formation to guard this place, allowing birds to pass but blocking all people.
Xiao Man looked at Tingyun Peak for a long time, until it completely disappeared from view, before turning his head back.
A few more minutes later, Baihua Peak arrived, and people walking towards Chaoyu Tower were constant. Xiao Man didn’t see the figures of Qu Hanxing and Mo Juntian, and the back row was empty, so he sat alone in yesterday’s position.
He placed the books he needed on the desk and pushed open the window. A familiar mountain sparrow flew in again, this time carrying a round and huge spiritual fruit.
The mountain sparrow placed the spiritual fruit on Xiao Man’s desk and approached with light steps, rubbing its head against his fingers and wrist. Xiao Man rubbed its head with the back of his hand, when suddenly a voice sounded beside him:
“Can I sit here?”
This voice was not unfamiliar, but it couldn’t be called familiar either. Xiao Man turned his head and saw the person asking was dressed in pale green robes, with clear features and a gentle, polite expression.
It was Wei Chuyun.
Xiao Man glanced around the building; there were still many empty seats, so this person had clearly come here on purpose.
“Wei truly and sincerely wants to make friends with Young Master Xiao.” Wei Chuyun’s tone was sincere.
Xiao Man picked up the mountain sparrow with both hands, sent it out through the window, and looked up: “I am not the owner of this seat, so I suppose I have no right to refuse on its behalf.”