Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Discovery

The autumn rain, once it began, showed no sign of stopping. It fell in endless, slender threads, drizzling ceaselessly. With the rain, the weather turned suddenly cooler, a faint chill seeping into the air.

Chen Jianchen had already donned his autumn clothes. He sat upright in his study, making the most of his time to review the Four Books.

Knock, knock, knock!

There was a knock at the door—Abao.

Abao entered, carrying a cup of steaming tea. She set it on the desk but did not immediately leave, instead hesitating as if something was on her mind.

Chen Jianchen asked, “What is it?”

Abao lowered her head slightly and asked in a soft voice, “Liuxian, do you think I could learn to read?”

Chen Jianchen chuckled. “Of course you can. If you’re willing, when I’m on break this year, I’ll teach you.”

“Really?”

Joy lit up Abao’s eyes, excitement sparkling within them.

Chen Jianchen smiled. “Why not? Learning to read and write is always a good thing… Actually, Abao, it’s my oversight. You’re still young—just the right age to begin. It’s just a pity our family is poor and lacks connections. We can’t send you to the Clear Snow Academy.”

At these words, Abao waved her hands quickly. “Liuxian, you and Auntie have taken me in and let me study alongside you. I’m already more than satisfied—never wished for anything else… I just want to recognize a few words…”

As she spoke, her eyes reddened with emotion.

Chen Jianchen stood up at once to comfort her. “That’s no problem at all. After the holidays, when I have some proper time, I’ll teach you. Ha, a brother teaching his little sister—it’s only natural.”

Abao broke into a smile through her tears and left the room.

Chen Jianchen returned to his studies. Not long after, Abao entered again, her expression a little odd. “Liuxian, there’s a young lady outside asking for you!”

A young lady?

Chen Jianchen was quite surprised. Rising to head outside, he recognized her at once—the personal maid of Nie Xiaoqian.

The maid greeted him with a respectful bow. “Young Master Chen, my mistress bade me deliver this letter to you.”

With that, she withdrew an envelope from her sleeve.

Chen Jianchen accepted it, but before he could speak, the maid bowed once more. “The message is delivered. I take my leave.” She opened her umbrella and disappeared into the curtain of rain.

Returning to the study, Chen Jianchen broke the seal and began to read.

The letter was brief, barely a hundred characters, written in a neat and elegant hand:

“Esteemed Sir, regarding last night’s scheme by the Wu family, I have reported all truthfully to my father. It is nothing more than seeking peace of mind—I cannot bear to see my father deceived, nor your talents wasted. However, be wary of the Wu family; they are vindictive and petty. Last night’s actions may have been rash and improper, but I trust your magnanimity and know you will not hold it against me. Lastly, the writing brush and ink you gifted—I am most fond of them and deeply grateful…”

Finishing the letter, the image of Nie Xiaoqian leapt vividly into Chen Jianchen’s mind. He could not deny a certain fondness for her.

Nie Xiaoqian was lively and cheerful, perceptive and wise, with a keen sense of right and wrong. Her family background and beauty needed no words. She spoke directly to her father, exposing Wu Wencai’s devious schemes, warned Chen Jianchen to be on guard against harm—each act revealing uncommon intelligence.

She was both poised and skilled in martial arts, truly an extraordinary young woman, aptly described as “bold in love and hate, peerlessly clever and graceful.”

Chen Jianchen was suddenly reminded of how, in the original story and on the screen, Nie Xiaoqian was always portrayed as a woman who dared to pursue happiness, possessed an extraordinary courage—like a moth to a flame, willing to defy all shackles rather than remain cloistered, dreaming of a future husband, weeping through the seasons until, in the end, she was blindly sent to her bridal chamber to await an unknown man to lift her bridal veil.

That man might be a portly, balding old fellow, or a sickly bookish youth…

But this Xiaoqian, clearly, would not resign herself to being a puppet, at the mercy of others, her fate not her own. Yet, such behavior would inevitably be seen as shocking, even condemned as “unwomanly” in most eyes.

—Within the Celestial Dynasty, the so-called “woman’s virtue” was the classic “obey your father at home, your husband in marriage, and your son in widowhood.” Even those who could attend an academy did so merely to feign refinement, to show off.

His thoughts drifting, Chen Jianchen was suddenly alert, a question arising unbidden: Could it be that Nie Xiaoqian, too, would one day suffer calamity, becoming that ethereal, sorrowful ghost?

Yet the matters seemed utterly unconnected…

Pop!

A soft sound interrupted Chen Jianchen’s thoughts—the mouse demon Xiaoyi had returned, and rather swiftly at that.

“Master, after my investigation, I found traces of a Daoist cultivator at only one place in Jiangzhou—that is the Chaotian Temple in the eastern part of the city.”

The mouse demon reported.

Chen Jianchen asked, “What kind of place is this Chaotian Temple?”

The mouse demon replied, “It’s not a large temple, but its incense is quite prosperous. The abbot there calls himself Celestial Master Zhang, said to hail from Dragon-Tiger Mountain and to be highly skilled in Daoist arts. Though a man of the cloth, he maintains close ties with the officials of Jiangzhou, often a welcome guest at the tables of the rich and powerful.”

Chen Jianchen made a sound of acknowledgement, then said, “Xiaoyi, come with me. I want to visit this Chaotian Temple.”

The mouse demon obeyed, darting nimbly into Chen Jianchen’s pouch, where it curled up obediently.

Chen Jianchen took up an oil-paper umbrella, informed Mo Sanniang, and strolled out into the rain.

On rainy days, the streets were nearly deserted, the stalls along the sides sparse, and the ill-repaired roads were riddled with puddles.

Chen Jianchen made straight for the eastern city, intent on finding Chaotian Temple. After about the time it takes two incense sticks to burn, he arrived outside the temple. At a glance, it was indeed a small, ancient Daoist abbey, exuding an air of quiet antiquity.

Just as he was about to step forward, he stopped abruptly, swiftly turning to slip into a nearby alley—because at that very moment, a sedan chair was being carried out from the side gate of the temple.

Chen Jianchen did not recognize the household to which the sedan chair belonged, but he did recognize the man leading the way.

Wangcai!

Wu Wencai’s household servant. That being so, the passenger must be Wu Wencai himself.

With the autumn rain falling as it was, this was the perfect day for drinking and listening to songs at the brothel—what business would Young Master Wu have, coming to this Daoist temple? Surely it wasn’t just to burn incense and pray.

Something about this was decidedly odd…

After a moment’s thought, Chen Jianchen said, “Xiaoyi, find a way to sneak into that sedan chair and see what you can learn.”

“Yes!” The mouse demon’s movements were swift and silent. With its abilities, slipping unseen into Wu Wencai’s sedan chair was child’s play.

Who would ever think to watch out for a little mouse?

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A Recommendation for a Friend’s New Book

The wind howls through the dual principles, shaking the eight directions; a single sword sweeps the universe.

A swordsman, transcending the Great Dao, cares nothing for spells or doctrines, only the seven-foot blade in his hand.

With a single thought, sword energy soars to the heavens, shattering the cosmos, smashing the stars, overturning creation itself.

With a single intent, a flick of the finger sends forth eighty thousand swords, cleaving sun and moon, felling gods and demons, uniting life and death as one.

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