Chapter 11#
The Academy (Part 2)#
Yin Biyue exerted extreme self-control to keep his expression from changing.
He lowered his head respectfully, adopting an attitude of receiving instruction.
His mind raced while his face remained as calm as water. Because even the slightest change would surely not escape the Master’s eyes.
‘He’ naturally referred to Luo Mingchuan.
Had the original body been instructed by the Academy Head to kill someone?
Why would the Master want to kill Luo Mingchuan? Hadn’t Luo Mingchuan also studied at the Academy?
Moreover, given the Master’s realm and position, there were a hundred ways to kill Luo Mingchuan. Why use someone else’s hand?
Could it be that a quasi-sage was secretly plotting, and the ultimate goal was merely Luo Mingchuan?! Or… Cangya Mountain?
But the Academy had remained neutral for many years and shared a deep friendship with Cangya. It was said that the Sword Saint and the Master were even close friends.
Or perhaps Luo Mingchuan, this person, had something special about him?
When had this order been given? When he was accepted into the Academy, or when he became a disciple of the Sword Saint? Did the Sword Saint know about it?
He felt as though he had been drawn into a treacherous game.
Merely an insignificant pawn in the hands of powerful figures who conjured storms with a wave.
If anyone else encountered such a situation, they would surely be overwhelmed with anxiety.
But Yin Biyue came back to his senses, his mind full of one thought:
Wasn’t this supposed to be the final boss?!
How could there be an even higher authority?! There was such a towering figure in the villain’s camp! Where was he supposed to put his face?!?
Indeed, improving his strength was the only true path!!!
“Let this matter rest for now. Don’t dwell on it in the future.” The Master pointed to the rattan chair beside him where he had been enjoying the cool air. “Come, sit.”
The implication was clear: don’t think about killing Luo Mingchuan for now.
Yin Biyue didn’t refuse and sat down silently.
This section of memory was blank in his mind. But judging from the present, his interactions with the Master had been relatively peaceful.
The Master also sat down on the rattan chair beside him. On the stone table before them lay several fallen locust blossoms and a set of slightly worn black-glazed tea utensils.
“You’ve come at the right time, just in time to watch the stars with me.”
Yin Biyue thought: when he had arrived, it was early morning; then he entered that strange, ethereal state, and by the time he woke up, it was dusk. Now the sky was dark, and in about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, the stars would begin to appear.
Indeed, everything was within the Master’s control.
Boiling water to warm the utensils, finely grinding the tea cake, pouring water into the cup, whisking the tea in circular motions, a layer of white froth rising on the cup’s surface. It contrasted with the ink-black glaze of the tea set, not jarringly, but creating a harmonious sense of fusion.
The Master’s movements were as free and easy as flowing clouds and water, yet unhurried and precise, without a single error.
Yin Biyue thought, this was probably what it meant to ‘follow one’s heart’s desires without overstepping the bounds.’
He watched attentively, finding it somewhat amusing to think that the privilege of having the Academy Head personally brew tea was something countless people in the world wouldn’t even dare to dream of. And he had obtained it for nothing. Was this the welfare for working for a big shot?
The two of them sat under the tree, facing each other in silence, boiling water and brewing tea.
Unknowingly, his unsettled emotions began to calm.
It didn’t seem as he had speculated. In the residual reactions of the original body, there was no wariness towards the Master.
It was as if, sitting here, all the previous conjectures, distracting thoughts, and anxieties gradually dissipated.
Since arriving in this world, the nerves that had been strung taut finally relaxed amidst the swirling fragrance of tea.
He picked up the teacup and gently swirled it. In the cup, the faint light of the stars was reflected.
The Master drank a cup, squinted his eyes in satisfaction, and looked up at the sky.
Thick clouds obscured the moon, making the stars seem even more brilliant and magnificent.
A hint of a smile seemed to appear in his eyes. “Actually, the stars aren’t as slow as they appear to our eyes. Some of them move very fast.”
Yin Biyue was somewhat startled and also looked up. He could only see the countless silent stars in the sky.
He realized that the starry sky the Master saw must be different from what he saw.
He couldn’t imagine the world as seen through the eyes of a quasi-sage, just as a mayfly knows nothing of the vastness of heaven and earth, and an ice-bound summer insect cannot be spoken to about ice.
In all his previous experience, he had never had the experience of ‘seeing the orbital paths of the universe across billions of miles.’
The Master watched with great interest, shifting to a more comfortable position in the rattan chair.
Soon, he shattered Yin Biyue’s understanding once again.
He opened his mouth and sighed, “Last year, ‘Soaring Dragon’ and ‘Winged Serpent’ were three Ganges sands apart. If calculated now, they should be on the same orbital path.”
‘Soaring Dragon’ and ‘Winged Serpent’ were names of constellations.
Ganges sand was a Buddhist unit of measurement, roughly ten to the fifty-second power.
Then the Master squinted his eyes, muttering to himself. Yin Biyue couldn’t hear clearly, only vaguely catching several extremely large units of measurement like ‘ral’, ‘koti’, and ’nayuta’.
Suddenly, the Master raised his finger and drew it across the air, as if connecting two points.
So this was the divination of a sage.
It wasn’t about truly ‘seeing’, nor about some mysterious spiritual sense in the void, but rather genuine calculation.
Relying on a vast accumulation of knowledge, special computational methods, terrifying counting abilities, and the experience of measurement over enormous spans of time to calculate the results.
Yin Biyue was profoundly shaken.
Observing the stars to know fate—what exactly did the Master want to see?
At that moment, the person beside him put down his teacup and gave him a faint smile. “It’s time for you to leave Cangya. It would be best to head south.”
The pot of tea was empty.
A night wind suddenly arose, carrying the remaining fragrance of tea mixed with the slight sweetness of locust blossoms, drifting in the night air.
It blew away the thick clouds at the edge of the sky, and a strand of silver-white light shone through, cascading down upon the mortal world from the distant nine heavens.
The bright moon broke through the clouds.
At the same time, the brilliant stars that had filled the sky instantly dimmed.
Some that were already faint were ones Yin Biyue could no longer see clearly.
When the moon rises, the stars dim.
The Master’s smile was also hidden in the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
He began to clear away the tea set.
Yin Biyue knew that night’s stargazing had come to an end.
So he stood up, brushing off the fine locust blossoms from his lapel. With hands clasped in a bow, he performed the disciple’s salute, just as he had when he arrived. It was a farewell.
The Master, leaning back in the rattan chair, nodded.
Yin Biyue withdrew the invitation from his sleeve. His figure rippled like water, vanishing from the small courtyard in an instant.
Then, only one person remained in the courtyard.
Even with the incomparably bright moonlight as company, it seemed a little lonely.
The scholar in his tall hat and wide sash, his expression obscure and unfathomable, murmured to himself as he gazed at the silent night.
“Actually, the moon is also a star.”
It seemed a sigh echoed through the Academy in the profound silence.
Only this star was too bright; none dared to vie for its brilliance.
Yin Biyue landed in his own courtyard on Xihua Peak. It was the same spot he had left from that morning.
The invitation in his hand turned to dust and ash, vanishing into the night.
He thought with some regret, this ‘One-day Academy Pass’ really was a single-use item. He had originally thought he’d obtained a treasure that allowed free travel between the Academy and Cangya.
He didn’t know when he would reach such a realm himself. Being able to stamp something that would become a treasure capable of tearing through vast distances of space.
At this moment, Yin Biyue didn’t realize that after his day of enlightenment at the Academy, the question he was considering was ‘when will I reach the quasi-sage realm’ rather than questioning whether he could reach the quasi-sage realm.
Out of a hundred cultivators in the Spirit Convergence realm, perhaps forty would think about how to enter ‘Shattering Obstacles’, twenty would wonder when they would enter ‘Lesser Vehicle’, and five would contemplate what the ‘Greater Vehicle’ realm was like. But almost no one would speculate on the cultivation of a sage.
Yin Biyue hadn’t thought about these things. Right now, he simply believed that diligent and uninterrupted cultivation would be sufficient.
No need to ask, no need to wait.
This was subconscious confidence.
He wouldn’t waste time on self-doubt or wear down his will with repeated speculation.
His right hand gripped the sword hilt as he looked up.
Perhaps without the shelter of the tall buildings and wide roofs of Cloud Sun City, the moonlight over Cangya Mountain seemed clearer and colder.
He could faintly hear the rustling of leaves and the roar of pine trees in the sea of forest. The occasional cry of a partridge made the night feel even emptier and more desolate.
During the day at the Academy, the technique where the sword was still in its sheath yet its sharp sword intent burst forth—he could no longer replicate it.
That was a matter of intent meeting the moment, something sought but not found.
Yet it had given him great inspiration.
He stood in the courtyard all night. By dawn, his entire body was soaked in the hazy moisture of the morning dew. But his eyes grew brighter and brighter.
He thought, he had found the way to use the sword.