The downside of talking by candlelight all night was that once morning came, Fu Xi Yan was exhausted.
Unfortunately, the person summoning him was the emperor, so rescheduling was obviously out of the question. He hurriedly splashed his face with cold water, had a servant bring out his Brocade Guard uniform, changed into it, and headed to the imperial palace to await his audience.
Just as he was about to dismount at the palace gates, Xiao Sang suddenly appeared beside his horse and took the reins with practiced ease.
Fu Xi Yan jumped in fright and nearly wheeled his horse around to flee. “Why did you suddenly come out?”
Xiao Sang stroked the horse’s head. “The Young Palace Master said we’d be discovered if we tried sneaking into the palace, so he told me to walk in openly.”
Back when Fu Xi Yan served in the Yulin Guard, he had visited the palace often. With his Yulin Guard token hanging at his waist, he had been able to come and go quite freely. Other than having more guards than most places, the palace had never struck him as particularly difficult to enter. Only after hearing Xiao Sang say this did he realize how little he actually knew.
Still, standing outside the palace gates was hardly the place to ask for details. “You haven’t been summoned by His Majesty. How are you supposed to get inside? Why don’t you wait for me out here?”
Xiao Sang stubbornly replied, “The Young Palace Master said to try, so I’ll try. If they refuse to let me in, then you wait here while I go back and tell the Young Palace Master. He’ll come over once he’s gathered everyone.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
What exactly did he mean by gathered everyone?
Those words were not threatening the emperor. They were threatening him, weren’t they?
No matter how Fu Xi Yan tried to persuade him, Xiao Sang refused to let him go in alone. As the hour grew later and the morning court session was nearly over, Fu Xi Yan had no choice but to ask one of the Yulin Guards stationed at the gates to call his uncle out so they could discuss what to do.
Fu Xuan naturally did not dare make that decision himself and reported the matter directly to the emperor.
To Fu Xi Yan’s surprise, Emperor Jianhong agreed without hesitation. And so, word quickly spread throughout the palace that the concubine-born son of Count Yongfeng had gone to meet the emperor accompanied by a bodyguard from the Immortal Treasury Palace’s Lightning Division.
The news reached the usually quiet Shicui Hall as well.
Rong Rong smashed another pile of objects. “Trash! Put him in a dragon robe and he’s still trash!”
Her furious voice echoed through the vast palace hall, but no one answered.
After a while, Rong Rong’s expression turned dark. “Call back the venomous snakes outside Yanying Hall.”
The palace maid who had been facing the doors turned around, kowtowed in Rong Rong’s direction, and said, “Yes.” Then she walked out of the hall without the slightest expression.
Rong Rong calmed herself for a while before asking, “Still no word from Lord Qilin?”
Another maid stepped forward. “Reporting to Master, none.”
Rong Rong combed through her hair and admired her beautiful reflection in the mirror for a moment before suddenly saying coldly, “Investigate whether Lord Qilin disappeared immediately after attempting to assassinate Fu Xi Yan in Luoyang.”
After the maid acknowledged the order, the palace once again sank into absolute silence.
After morning court, Emperor Jianhong liked to summon officials to Yanying Hall for more private discussions.
Fu Xi Yan was not the only one granted that honor today. Two senior officials were ahead of him.
One was Shi Wei Liang, the Left Censor-in-Chief of the Censorate.
The other was the recently unfortunate Tu Mu, Prefect of the Capital Prefecture.
Although both the “Four Young Lords of Haojing” case and the Monk Zhi Ji case had already been transferred to the Ministry of Justice, the damage they caused continued to spread, and crime in the capital had risen noticeably. During morning court that very day, a censor had accused Tu Mu of occupying his office while accomplishing nothing and merely filling a post without doing its work.
Tu Mu had originally been scheming for the position of Prefect of Luoyang. After one blow after another, however, his hopes of obtaining it had become exceedingly slim.
The atmosphere was inevitably stiff with the two men standing together. Fu Xi Yan’s rank was too low for him to risk irritating either of these powerful officials, so he obediently shrank into a corner and stared blankly into space.
Fortunately, Emperor Jianhong valued efficiency and summoned Shi Wei Liang and Tu Mu inside together, allowing Fu Xi Yan to breathe a considerable sigh of relief outside. Roughly half a cup of tea later, Tu Mu emerged first, his steps unsteady. Judging by his pale complexion, he had clearly just received a thorough dressing-down.
An attendant then summoned Fu Xi Yan into the hall.
Fu Xi Yan glanced at Xiao Sang, who stood seven or eight paces away, steadied himself, and stepped inside.
He had expected Emperor Jianhong to question him about the Immortal Treasury Palace, and he had even prepared a story in advance. His vast stockpile of novels contained no shortage of scenes where an overwhelmingly powerful protagonist took in a subordinate; all Fu Xi Yan needed to do was cast himself in the role of that subordinate.
To his surprise, however, Emperor Jianhong did not speak to him at all. Fu Xi Yan was left kneeling below like a wooden post while Emperor Jianhong exchanged only a few sentences with Shi Wei Liang and casually decided that Fu Xi Yan would serve as Prison Warden of the Censorate.
Fu Xi Yan was secretly wondering what exactly a Prison Warden did when Emperor Jianhong added that the post was only of the senior eighth rank, which was too low, so Fu Xi Yan would concurrently hold the rank of Company Commander in the Yulin Guard.
Elio’s Notes: Traditional official ranks were divided into nine grades, each split into senior (正) and junior (从) ranks. 正八品, rendered here as senior eighth rank, was comparatively low in the bureaucracy.
After an attendant subtly prompted Fu Xi Yan to kowtow and thank the emperor for his favor, he was escorted back outside.
The Beginning of Winter was approaching. Sunlight poured down outside Yanying Hall, yet Fu Xi Yan could not feel the slightest warmth.
He did not know whether Emperor Jianhong’s coldness today came from considering Fu Xi Yan too low-ranking to merit conversation, or whether Xiao Sang’s insistence on entering the palace had angered the supreme ruler and prompted him to give Fu Xi Yan a warning. But during those brief dozen or so minutes, Fu Xi Yan truly experienced what it meant for those above to hold the power of life and death and act according to their own will, while those below could only tremble helplessly and obey.
No wonder all those transmigrator predecessors were forever proclaiming that they wanted to “wake holding the power of the realm in their hands.” Power was not omnipotent, but at the very least, it allowed you to stand up whenever you felt like standing.
After leaving the palace, Fu Xi Yan had no desire to wander around. Unfortunately, he happened to encounter someone he knew. Lou Bai Zhan blocked the road and enthusiastically invited him to Zizui Tower for drinks. Unable to refuse him, Fu Xi Yan eventually went along.
The Star-Plucking Room at Zizui Tower was unavailable today—
because Lou Bai Zhan had reserved it in advance.
Fu Xi Yan gave the smiling young man beside him a meaningful look.
A chance encounter?
Tsk. There wasn’t an honest person left in the world these days.
Lou Bai Zhan smiled apologetically. “My elder brother heard about your exploits and admired you greatly, so he asked me to intercept you.”
Fu Xi Yan’s expression turned strange. “Your elder brother?”
Stranger still, when he pushed open the door to the Star-Plucking Room, the person sitting inside was indeed exactly the man who had appeared in his mind.
Among the children of Haojing’s military families, Lou Wu Zai was the quintessential “other family’s child”—the nightmare against whom everyone else was compared. Every time Lou Wu Zai advanced another cultivation stage, parents from military households could not resist roaring at their own children, “Lou Wu Zai can do it! Why can’t you? Are you stupider than he is?”
“Yes.”
Unfortunately, admitting it did not earn the children any mercy. Most were still subjected to a round of frustrated, why-can’t-you-become-steel corporal education.
Elio’s Notes: 恨铁不成钢, literally “hating iron for failing to become steel,” describes frustration toward someone who refuses or fails to live up to their potential.
Because something had gone wrong with Fu Xi Yan’s true origin, his family had been unable to use pressure to spur his cultivation, so he had escaped that particular ordeal.
But poor students and top students lived in entirely different worlds. Even on the rare occasions they encountered each other at gatherings, they merely saw one another from a distance and never interacted. This invitation was therefore extremely abrupt.
Fu Xi Yan wondered, Surely he hasn’t somehow heard that my cultivation has been advancing by leaps and bounds? But he’s not a worm living in my stomach, so how would he know?
Fortunately, Lou Wu Zai was sitting right there, and Fu Xi Yan expected the mystery would soon be resolved.
The dishes had already been served. With autumn giving way to winter, eating hotpot lamb was an undeniable pleasure.
Before anyone picked up their chopsticks, however, a few polite pleasantries were unavoidable.
Only a few.
Even with Lou Bai Zhan periodically trying to warm up the atmosphere, the polite conversation between Lou Wu Zai and Fu Xi Yan quickly became impossible to sustain. No matter what Fu Xi Yan did, he could feel Lou Wu Zai studying him with an investigative gaze.
Fu Xi Yan sighed. “I’ve long heard that Brother Lou is a straightforward man who speaks frankly. Why not just speak frankly now?”
Lou Wu Zai withdrew his gaze and looked at the table full of food. “Do you want to eat a little more first? I’m afraid what I’m about to tell you will ruin your appetite.”
Fu Xi Yan said, “…Now that you’ve said that, I’ve lost my appetite already.”
Lou Wu Zai’s attempt to encourage him to eat could hardly have been less sincere. “That works too. We can pack the rest later.” He glanced at Lou Bai Zhan, who immediately understood, rose, and went outside to stand guard.
With one person gone, the large room suddenly felt somewhat colder and emptier. Fu Xi Yan picked up his wine and took a small sip.
He was not worried that Lou Wu Zai intended to harm him. Although Xiao Sang had disappeared into the shadows again after they left the palace, his earlier public appearance had already announced to everyone that anyone who wanted to kill the Fourth Young Master of Count Yongfeng’s Estate would first have to breach the defenses of the Immortal Treasury Palace’s Lightning Division.
That was no easy feat. Besides, Fu Xi Yan possessed trump cards of his own.
He picked up another slice of lamb.
Chew, chew, chew—
Lou Wu Zai picked up a brown-paper packet beside him and handed it over. “Take a look.”
Fu Xi Yan accepted it. Inside were four thick case files arranged chronologically:
The drowning death of Count Jianning’s eldest grandson;
The poisoning death of Count Jianning’s second grandson;
The suicide by blade of Marquis Dehua’s second son;
The hanging death of Grand Commandant Liu’s third son.
Fu Xi Yan stared in surprise. “These are the Four Young Lords of Haojing cases?” More startling still, the cover of Count Jianning’s second grandson’s file clearly stated death by poisoning, even though the pawnshop keeper had previously told him the man died of illness.
Lou Wu Zai said, “I currently serve in the Ministry of Justice and am responsible for this case. I invited Brother Fu here today because there is something I need to ask you.”
Fu Xi Yan froze and instinctively said, “I wasn’t even in Haojing when these four cases occurred.”
“There is more behind these cases than appears on the surface,” Lou Wu Zai said. “Brother Fu may not have been in Haojing, but that does not necessarily mean you are unrelated to them.”
Fu Xi Yan’s heart tightened. “What do you mean?”
“I suspect that you and I, like those four men, are all victims.”
Fu Xi Yan, who had been preparing to swear to Heaven that he was not the murderer: “…”
At some point, the charcoal beneath the hotpot had gone out.
The room felt even colder.
Lou Wu Zai said, “During the days when the Four Young Lords cases occurred, I often felt dazed, as though I had inhaled some kind of drugged incense. I consulted several physicians, but all of them said there was nothing wrong with my body and that it might simply be exhaustion from overwork. But I knew it wasn’t exhaustion. Exhaustion does not make someone want to circulate their qi and self-detonate.”
Fu Xi Yan’s heart jolted.
“When I saw the Four Young Lords cases, I knew I had found the right direction, but I was still missing a key—a key capable of linking everything together.” Lou Wu Zai looked calmly at him. “Then I heard that Zhang Da Shan had controlled pigeons to poison you. I had found the key. If a person can control pigeons, then naturally a person can control other people. Such an art already exists in this world.”
Fu Xi Yan’s thoughts surged, yet at the same time, he felt as though the clouds before his eyes had suddenly parted.
Until now, he had always classified Zhang Da Shan as one of Chu Guang’s people and assumed the poisoning attempt had been carried out on Chu Guang’s orders. He had found the motive insufficient, but he simply could not think of another explanation.
Then he remembered what Xuan Ou Zi had said when he came to redeem Zhang Da Shan:
“Does killing someone always require a reason? The sunlight is too harsh, so I’m in a bad mood. Someone is blocking the road, so I’m in a bad mood. A table has four corners, so I’m in a bad mood… Can none of those serve as reasons to kill?”
Some murders were meticulously planned.
Others were indiscriminate killings committed simply to vent one’s rage!
Fu Xi Yan murmured, “The Puppet Path… the City of Ten Thousand Beasts… Tong Fang Yu?”
“They may have carried it out,” Lou Wu Zai said, “but I suspect someone else is behind them.”
Fu Xi Yan nodded. That made sense. The City of Ten Thousand Beasts had traveled all the way from the western frontier to Haojing. Randomly murdering people there was one thing, but deliberately planting Zhang Da Shan inside the Brocade Guard specifically to assassinate Fu Xi Yan clearly indicated that the targets had been selected.
Fu Xi Yan recalled the theory circulating through Haojing. “Southern Yu?”
“That’s merely nonsense invented by the Prefect of the Capital Prefecture to shirk responsibility,” Lou Wu Zai said. “If Southern Yu were behind this, they would target powerful ministers capable of influencing the court or newly successful jinshi with promising futures. These four victims were all too young and too politically insignificant.”
Elio’s Notes: A jinshi (进士) was a successful candidate in the highest level of the imperial civil-service examinations and often entered officialdom afterward.
Cruel as the statement sounded, it was logical.
Even Fu Xi Yan’s universally praised prospective brother-in-law had only been a juren, much less Count Jianning’s eldest grandson, who spent his days frequenting pleasure quarters. What would Southern Yu accomplish by killing him—destroying Northern Zhou’s entertainment industry?
Elio’s Notes: A juren (举人) was someone who passed the provincial level of the imperial examinations, ranking below a jinshi.
Fu Xi Yan thought for a moment. “Are you certain Zhang Da Shan belongs to the same group as the person behind the Four Young Lords cases?” It was not that he wanted to look down on Zhang Da Shan, but as assassins went, the man’s professional standards had been rather unimpressive, whereas the killer who successfully eliminated the other four appeared highly skilled.
Judging only by the different outcomes, Fu Xi Yan naturally fell into a mistaken assumption. In truth, Zhang Da Shan’s use of pigeons to administer poison had been no less sophisticated than the poisoning that killed Count Jianning’s second grandson.
“If I could be certain, I would have solved the case already,” Lou Wu Zai said. “I have merely found something the six of us share.”
Fu Xi Yan thought, Other than all being human, Lou Wu Zai and I actually have something else in common?
He guessed, “We’re descendants of nobles or imperial relatives?”
Lou Wu Zai shook his head. “I mean something more specific. For example, before anything happened to us, every one of us appeared in Consort Dowager Chen’s Hundred Filial Sons Picture.”
Fu Xi Yan nodded.
“There is one more thing,” Lou Wu Zai continued. “All six of us have attractive faces.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
His two elder brothers had also appeared in the Hundred Filial Sons Picture. Did that mean…
they were less handsome than he was?
Fu Xi Yan asked with complete sincerity, “Next time, can I bring my father and uncle with me so you can say that again in front of them?” Those two shortsighted old men needed to hear Haojing’s young genius personally evaluate his looks. Then they could reflect carefully on whether Fu Xi Yan truly lacked the qualifications for a marriage alliance!
Lou Wu Zai said, “Your birth mother was an extraordinary beauty. You may be fat, but the underlying structure of your features is still good. As for the other four, every one of them was praised as a ‘golden boy’ when he was young.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Fu Xi Yan cleared his throat, leaned closer, and lowered his voice. “So what you’re saying is that after seeing the Hundred Filial Sons Picture, Consort Dowager Chen became so insanely jealous of the six of us for being beautiful—regardless of whether we were fat or thin—that she hired the City of Ten Thousand Beasts to kill us? Is she farsighted, or is this senile dementia? We’re all men! Aren’t opposite sexes supposed to attract?”
Holy shit. If he followed this theory to its logical conclusion, he seemed to have discovered something astonishing!
Lou Wu Zai said, “Consort Dowager Chen may not have been the only person who saw the Hundred Filial Sons Picture. What matters is who ordered it to be painted.”
Fu Xi Yan was silent for a moment. “But Consort Dowager Chen is still the key?”
“This is only my suspicion. I have no evidence.” Lou Wu Zai held no particularly high office in the Ministry of Justice, but even the Minister of Justice could not simply investigate a consort dowager of the inner palace at will.
Especially not one who had rendered Emperor Jianhong such great service in securing the throne.
Fu Xi Yan said, “There’s also been another recent case involving one of Consort Dowager Chen’s relatives.”
Lou Wu Zai gave him a meaningful look. “The Monk Zhi Ji case is about to undergo a joint hearing by the Three Judicial Offices. After the Beginning of Winter, Chen Wen Ju will be transferred from the Ministry of Justice to the Censorate.”
Chen Wen Ju was Consort Dowager Chen’s nephew.
Seeing Fu Xi Yan remain perfectly calm, Lou Wu Zai looked somewhat surprised. “Aren’t you worried?”
“Worried about what?”
“Aren’t you about to take office as Prison Warden of the Censorate?”
“Mm… so what exactly does a Prison Warden do?”
“He oversees the Censorate’s prison.”
The newly appointed Prison Warden of the Censorate was horrified. “What? Then why are they transferring Chen Wen Ju to the Censorate?”
A surge of anger immediately shot through him.
“That was Consort Dowager Chen’s decision,” Lou Wu Zai said.
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Consort Dowager Chen’s suspicion level had just risen again.
Lou Wu Zai had predicted correctly. Once their conversation began, the dishes on the table cooled untouched. Fu Xi Yan had everything they had not eaten packed up to take home.
Ever since the Fourth Young Master of Count Yongfeng’s Estate left early that morning, the entire household had been shrouded in nervous tension, terrified that Fu Xi Yan might suddenly get inspired and say something outrageous in front of the emperor.
That anxiety reached its peak when Xiao Sang insisted on accompanying Fu Xi Yan into the palace. Only after word arrived that Fu Xi Yan had emerged safely and then gone to Zizui Tower with Lou Bai Zhan for a meal did everyone gradually relax.
By the time Fu Xi Yan returned home, the estate had already resumed its usual routine. There was no sign that Fu Fu had earlier ordered the gatekeepers and servants to report immediately at the slightest disturbance.
Fu Xi Yan first distributed the food he had brought back among the servants and laborers in his courtyard, then went to see Fu Fu, who was obviously desperate for news while pretending to be perfectly calm.
Fu Fu irritably tore away the thoroughly ruined painting of winter plum blossoms he had been working on. At last, hurried footsteps sounded outside. He put down his brush and was just preparing to assume a dignified paternal expression and interrogate his son properly when Fu Xi Yan trotted in and threw himself aggrievedly against the table.
“His Majesty is making me go to the Censorate to watch over a jail!”
Fu Fu calmly set down the brush. “How old are you? Why are you still so rash?”
“I’m also concurrently holding the rank of Company Commander in the Yulin Guard.”
Fu Fu asked, “What did His Majesty say to you?”
“Nothing. He only spoke to Lord Shi from the Censorate. You know—one of those conversations where he points at the mulberry tree while cursing the locust tree.”
Elio’s Notes: “Pointing at the mulberry tree while cursing the locust tree” (指桑骂槐) means criticizing or warning one person indirectly by ostensibly speaking about someone else.
“Nonsense!” Fu Fu picked up a paperweight and rapped him on the head.
Fu Xi Yan stared at him in shock. “Father, you hit harder than you used to.”
Fu Fu’s reasoning was impeccable. “There’s a True Origin Stage way of hitting someone, and there’s a Bone Forging Stage way of hitting someone.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Fu Fu asked again, “Since when have you had dealings with Lou Wu Zai? Why did he seek you out?”
At that, Fu Xi Yan heaved a heavy sigh and looked tearfully at his elderly father. “Father, you have no idea. You almost really did have to send off your black-haired son while you were white-haired.”
Fu Fu snapped, “Say something auspicious!”
“Luckily, you missed it by just a little.”
Fu Fu felt that with a disastrous son like this, whether it had been by a little hardly mattered anymore!
“He told me that, actually…” Fu Xi Yan said with solemn grief, “the Four Young Lords of Haojing case might not be a Four Young Lords case at all. It might be a Six Young Lords case.”
…
After hearing Lou Wu Zai’s reasoning, Fu Fu raised two points.
First, anyone capable of influencing Consort Dowager Chen into ordering the Hundred Filial Sons Picture had to be someone close to her. That narrowed the possibilities to people inside the inner palace and her nephew.
Second, the theory about looks did not work with Fu Xi Yan, and it worked even less with Count Jianning’s eldest grandson. That man spent all his time among flowers and women and needed layers of cosmetics merely to look halfway human. Beneath them, he was gaunt and wasted, and not particularly handsome.
Fu Xi Yan asked, “So Zhang Da Shan trying to kill me was just a coincidence?”
“Whether it was coincidence or not, the storms brewing throughout Haojing lately appear inseparable from the Puppet Path,” Fu Fu said.
Fu Xi Yan thought for a moment, then jumped to his feet. “I’ll go ask Aunt Yu whether she knows anything about the Puppet Path.”
Naturally, matters of the jianghu were best asked of people from the jianghu.
Yu Su Huan was brewing tea for Pei Yuan Jin when Fu Xi Yan arrived. “Why do you suddenly want to know about the Puppet Path?”
“Because I’ve never been able to understand why Zhang Da Shan wanted to kill me. At first, I suspected Chu Guang had ordered it, but the more I thought about it, the less sense that made. Given Chu Guang and Chu Shao Yang’s martial arts, if either of them had wanted me dead, I wouldn’t have been able to resist at all back then.”
—At least, that was how everyone else saw it.
“And Zhang Da Shan was taken away by someone from the City of Ten Thousand Beasts,” Fu Xi Yan continued. “But strangely, Zhang Da Shan didn’t seem to recognize Xuan Ou Zi.”
Yu Su Huan smiled and glanced toward Pei Yuan Jin.
Pei Yuan Jin was comfortably stroking the tabby kitten, which had grown sleek and glossy over the past few days. His eyes remained fixed on the book in his hand, as though their conversation had nothing whatsoever to do with him.
Yu Su Huan understood and continued. “The Puppet Path’s sect master, Mo Xiao Ran, had four great disciples. Tong Fang Yu ranked second and was closest to the eldest disciple, Tie Rong Rong. According to rumor, Tie Rong Rong came from an official family. After Mo Xiao Ran married into the Heaven-Earth Mirror and the Puppet Path effectively ceased to exist, she withdrew from the jianghu, returned home, and married.”
“The third disciple, Yin Fei Yu, and the fourth, Jin Yuan Xiu, were closer to one another. Both have been missing for many years. However, according to the Wind Division’s investigation, Yin Fei Yu once bewitched Tie Er, the chief disciple of the Southern Ridge Sect who had come to participate in the campaign against them. The two fled south together. A few years later, a woman called Guan Shan Mei, the Mantis Poison Woman, appeared in the southern martial world.”
Fu Xi Yan suddenly understood. “So Zhang Da Shan could be the disciple of one of Mo Xiao Ran’s other three disciples.”
That would explain why Zhang Da Shan did not recognize Xuan Ou Zi. They might belong to the same lineage without sharing the same master!
Fu Xi Yan said, “Doesn’t that make this whole thing… even more complicated?”
Tong Fang Yu alone was enough of a headache. There were actually three more behind her?
Yu Su Huan slowly pushed the tea leaves into the pot with a tea spoon. “The jianghu can be extremely complicated, and it can also be extremely simple. If you look at the jianghu through the human heart, it is treacherous, ever-changing, and unfathomable. But if you walk the jianghu through martial strength, then overwhelming force defeats every clever technique, and there is no one worth fearing. Isn’t that right, Young Palace Master?”
Elio’s Notes: 一力降十会, literally “one force defeats ten techniques,” means that overwhelming strength can render clever methods or elaborate tactics irrelevant.
She smiled toward Pei Yuan Jin.
Pei Yuan Jin turned another page of his book.
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
So this was the strength behind a subordinate being stubborn enough to suggest forcing his way into the imperial palace?
There was, however, one question Fu Xi Yan had kept buried in his heart for a very long time. He truly wanted to ask it.
Very cautiously, Fu Xi Yan said, “Why is it that after all this time, I’ve never once seen the Young Palace Master practice martial arts?”
…
Pei Yuan Jin and Yu Su Huan both looked at him.
Fu Xi Yan immediately panicked. “I’m only curious. I have absolutely no intention of prying into the Immortal Treasury Palace’s secrets. You don’t have to answer at all.”
Yu Su Huan burst out laughing. “That’s because—”
“Too talkative.”
At Pei Yuan Jin’s quiet rebuke, a gust of force swept Fu Xi Yan—chair and all—straight out through the doorway.
…
Sitting in the courtyard, Fu Xi Yan looked up at the bright moon and sighed inwardly.
The moon is really bright tonight.
What he did not realize was that the moon above Count Yongfeng’s Estate would look even brighter at three in the morning.
Fu Xi Yan stared blankly at Fu Xuan, who had hauled him out of bed. He seemed unable to understand why uncle and nephew were standing in the training room in the middle of the night wearing practice clothes.
Fu Xuan said, “Now that you possess true qi, I’ll teach you this set of Soft-Gentle Fist.”
Fu Xi Yan: “…”
Teaching martial arts in the middle of the night…
So his uncle was the golden-finger old grandpa he had been searching for all along?
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