The Night-Watch Bureau, the Director's official office.
The light within the room was somewhat dim. The window lattice was half-closed, letting in only a few threads of dusty afternoon sunlight.
In the boshan censer atop the writing table, ambergris incense burned vigorously, its curling blue smoke spiraling upward, lending the air a certain oppressiveness.
Vice-Commander Liu sat on pins and needles.
Across from him, behind the broad sandalwood desk, Zhou Qingmu held a case file in her hands, reading it word by word, line by line.
It was the closing case file from Gu Chengming's recent mission.
The room was terrifyingly quiet, broken only by the faint rustle of pages as Zhou Qingmu turned them.
Each time that sound came, Vice-Commander Liu's heart gave a violent lurch, and even his eyelids couldn't help twitching.
—Little Gu, oh Little Gu, I only sent you to suppress some water bandits. How on earth did you manage to stir up something like this for me?
But matters had come to this, and he could only grit his teeth and own it. After all, he was the one who'd sent the man out, and the file bore his own seal. Once the matter had been formally settled on his end, what room was there left to take it back?
To be honest, he truly never imagined the file would record contents like these.
He'd assumed Gu Chengming had simply wiped out the water bandits, haggled a bit with those East Sea officials, and then come home.
"Rustle."
The sound of the final page turning rang out.
Vice-Commander Liu's body gave a sudden shudder. Zhou Qingmu set down the file in her hand, her gaze passing over the curling blue smoke to land on Vice-Commander Liu's large face, which was struggling to feign composure.
Vice-Commander Liu's throat bobbed with difficulty as he forced out two dry chuckles:
"Director, that... about Little Gu's mission this time..."
His mind spun rapidly, searching for some way to smooth over the boy's actions and make them sound more reasonable—but before he could even open his mouth, Zhou Qingmu cut him off.
"A third-realm flood dragon, of the East Sea's direct bloodline."
Zhou Qingmu's slender fingers tapped lightly against the file:
"And what's more, slain in the open, with Great Qian officials present—and afterward he even carved an inscription to assert his dominance."
Hearing these words, Vice-Commander Liu felt his heart go cold.
"Liu Batian." Zhou Qingmu suddenly called out his full name.
"This subordinate is here!" Vice-Commander Liu's legs went weak, and he nearly dropped straight to his knees.
Watching him in this state, Zhou Qingmu's brows arched slightly, and she said with approval, "And here I thought that, after all these years, you'd made no progress beyond raw strength. Who would have guessed... you've gained a bit more backbone than before. Good, good."
"Eh?"
Vice-Commander Liu's mouth fell open, his whole being utterly bewildered.
Seeing his expression, Zhou Qingmu continued, "Going by your usual temperament, whenever you ran into trouble involving the East Sea or the Court of State Ceremonial, you'd be the first to come running to me in tears, or you'd bury the file and ask me to decide—never daring to make a call on your own."
"But this time you went and stamped the seal privately, settling the matter yourself. That truly took me by surprise. Well done."
Zhou Qingmu gave Vice-Commander Liu's broad shoulder a heavy pat.
"This is exactly what a Vice-Commander of my Night-Watch Bureau ought to look like!"
Vice-Commander Liu stood there, feeling as though the road had taken a sudden turn—his mind couldn't keep up.
Zhou Qingmu turned and walked back behind the desk, slamming the file down hard enough that the teacups atop it jumped.
"In the eyes of my Night-Watch Bureau, anyone who kills and devours people upon the soil of Great Qian is a demon! And a demon ought to be slain!"
"Gu Chengming did very well. And you did well too."
Hearing this, how could Vice-Commander Liu fail to grasp Director Zhou's attitude?
At once his heart eased, though at the same time things felt a touch delicate.
He cupped his hands and asked tentatively, "The Director is wise. Yet the Court of State Ceremonial, I fear, will not let this rest. And as for the East Sea... that Fubai Dragon Lord is famous for shielding his own kin. If that old dragon truly flies into a rage and uses this as a pretext to pressure the court, or simply stirs up trouble directly—"
Zhou Qingmu sat back down in her chair and sneered coldly:
"The Court of State Ceremonial? If those root-kneed cowards dare have any objections, let them come find me here in this office."
"As for the East Sea... if that Fubai Dragon Lord truly feels he's tired of living and dares come demanding an explanation, then I'll let him taste exactly what an explanation from our Night-Watch Bureau means."
Having said this, Zhou Qingmu paused, reining in that terrifying killing intent and reverting to the Director who handled official affairs day to day.
She looked at Vice-Commander Liu, who still stood there with a complicated expression, and seemed to suddenly remember something: "Oh, right, Liu Batian."
"This subordinate is here."
Zhou Qingmu tapped the file on the desk, her tone carrying a businesslike rigor: "A second-realm cultivator slaying a third-realm—and a direct East Sea bloodline at that. Such a feat would be unheard of anywhere."
"Our Night-Watch Bureau is clear in its rewards and punishments. Regarding the merit for this matter, remember to put in a word over at the Internal Affairs Hall and allot a larger share to Gu Chengming."
"Don't use the precedent for expelling water bandits. Calculate it directly by the standard for 'slaying a third-realm great demon causing havoc'—not a single spirit stone or merit point that's due him is to be shortchanged."
"Yes, this subordinate understands."
Vice-Commander Liu hurriedly assented, secretly clicking his tongue inside—Little Gu had struck it rich this time.
"One more thing."
Zhou Qingmu raised her head, her gaze once more falling on Vice-Commander Liu, the approval in her eyes still undispersed: "For you to show such decisiveness this time—whatever the reason behind it, the outcome was good. This sense of responsibility deserves praise."
"I'll mention a word to the Ministry of Personnel later and have your annual evaluation marked as 'Excellent.' You've sat in this post for quite a few years now. If you can keep up this... mm, this boldness from here on, it's not impossible you might move up another rung."
Hearing this, Vice-Commander Liu felt his head buzzing.
To think that he, Liu Batian, who normally toiled diligently and walked as though treading on thin ice, terrified of taking a single wrong step—had still only ever managed a record of no merit and no fault.
This time, though, he'd stamped a seal blindly with his eyes shut, nearly unleashing a catastrophe of heaven-toppling proportions—and instead he'd become a model of responsibility.
This world, this officialdom, this life... it really was absurd as hell.
Vice-Commander Liu drew a deep breath, suppressed the tangled emotions in his heart, and bowed deeply, all the way down, to Zhou Qingmu:
"Many thanks for the Director's cultivation of me! This subordinate will surely redouble his efforts hereafter and never disappoint the Director's high expectations!"
Zhou Qingmu nodded with satisfaction and waved a hand, signaling for him to withdraw.
"Go on. Handle the matter beautifully."
"Yes!"
Vice-Commander Liu clasped his fists in salute, then turned and walked out.
It wasn't until he had stepped through the gates of the Director's office and the cold wind outside struck him that he realized his back was already soaked through with cold sweat.
He wiped a hand across his face, glanced back at that tightly shut vermilion-lacquered gate, and let out a long breath of turbid air—his calves still cramping a little.
"Mother of mine..." Vice-Commander Liu muttered under his breath. "This Little Gu... really is this old man's lucky general."
The morning light was faint. In the small courtyard of Jishan Ward, dewdrops left over from the night still clung to the leaves of the osmanthus tree.
When Gu Chengming awoke, he noticed a ranking update notification pushed from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau.
[Hidden Dragon Ranking, Twentieth: Gu Chengming]
[Note: Slew a flood dragon in the East Sea, with a second-realm body striking up against a third-realm.]
Looking at this brief single line, Gu Chengming couldn't help feeling a touch of something subtle in his heart.
He had only returned to the Capital the previous day, and the debriefing report he'd given Vice-Commander Liu had scarcely had time to warm up—yet this Imperial Astronomical Bureau ranking had already been updated.
This meant that the Bureau's adjustments to the rankings didn't rely at all on that official boilerplate the Night-Watch Bureau submitted, but rather had their own independent and far swifter source of intelligence.
"Heaven-Opening, Earth-Watching, Sound-Hearing..."
Gu Chengming murmured softly to himself, his mind conjuring the "Clairvoyant Eye" that his own Elder Yu took such pride in.
Elder Yu had once said that, exerting her full power, she could spy on the goings-on across the greater part of the Wenjian Sect. That was already an extraordinarily astonishing divine ability—yet this great formation of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau could extend its scope of surveillance to the shores of the East Sea a thousand li away, even capturing a detail or two of the battle.
The depths of Great Qian's foundation truly were unfathomable.
Gu Chengming sat beside the stone table, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his teacup.
But if Great Qian possessed such terrifying means of surveillance, even able to mobilize dragon-qi at any moment to suppress all directions, then why was its attitude toward the East Sea's flood-dragon clan so ambiguous—even forbearing?
He had leafed through the "Miscellaneous Records of the East Sea" at the Imperial Academy. According to the book, although the entire East Sea flood-dragon clan claimed to host ten thousand races, its true top-tier combat power amounted to no more than four fifth-realm Dragon Lords, plus a number of fourth-realm great demons.
Such strength might be quite formidable before a sect, but before the Great Qian imperial dynasty it was clearly not enough to be taken seriously.
It wouldn't even require the full might of the nation—merely the Night-Watch Bureau and the Demon-Catching Bureau joining forces, plus a few of the great army-attached enshrined masters. To steamroll the East Sea outright might be an exaggeration, but if it were only a matter of intimidation, or of slaying a few of the Dragon Lords' troublemaking offspring to uphold national law, it would be more than sufficient.
Yet the reality was that the officials of the Court of State Ceremonial, for the sake of so-called "diplomatic relations," not only bowed and scraped before that man-eating vicious flood dragon, but even turned around to oppress their own common folk into smoothing things over.
There had to be some hidden secret in all this, something a person of his level had yet to come into contact with.
Gu Chengming pondered for a moment, but in the end he still shook his head, casting these tangled thoughts aside for the time being.
Since this counted as returning from a "business trip," by the rules of the Night-Watch Bureau he had a few days of rest leave.
Perfect—taking advantage of these few leisurely days, he ought to properly consolidate the gains of this East Sea journey.
Truth be told, what had helped him most this time was not the inner core he'd stripped from the flood-dragon demon, but rather that one sword strike he had borrowed from the Reef Stone Daoist by means of the Red Dust Art.
With the strength of his second-realm divine soul, to plant a "certain death" karma upon a third-realm flood dragon out of thin air would have been no different from a fool's daydream.
So when he had pointed that finger forth, he was not fabricating from nothing—he was "continuing."
What he continued was the "cause" of that Wenjian Sect Hall of Punishment and Law elder of a hundred years past, the Reef Stone Daoist.
The red dust is not romance and pleasure; it is the thoughts of all living beings, the entanglement of cause and effect.
That year, the Reef Stone Daoist's entire family had been devoured by Ao Qing. This was a blood feud as deep as the sea—a "cause." Once such a cause is sown, it must inevitably bear an "effect."
Yet the Reef Stone Daoist, beset by misgivings back then—for the sake of the sect, for the sake of the greater good—had his inner demon forcibly press down the sword in his hand, brutally severing the "effect" that was about to ripen.
But that cause and effect did not vanish. It transformed into an obsession, a pent-up resentment, hanging between heaven and earth, hanging above that Reef Stone Village, even becoming the Reef Stone Daoist's inner demon, ultimately leading to his death and the dissolution of his Dao.
It was an unfinished closed loop.
And what Gu Chengming had done was to use red dust qi as a guide, to find anew that severed thread-end, and then, with the sword in his hand, to complete on behalf of that long-deceased old man the "effect" that had been a hundred years late.
In that moment, what he borrowed was not merely that one sword strike, but the grand momentum of "this is as it ought to be" that pervades heaven and earth.
The feeling was wondrous.
When you know that this sword, brought down, accords with the heavenly principle and conforms to cause and effect, then there will not be the slightest hesitation in your heart—and your sword will be faster than ever before, heavier than ever before.
Perhaps this was what was meant by a Lucid Sword-Heart?
As this layer of insight deepened, the qi-mechanism within Gu Chengming's body began to change.
The true essence that had once flowed through his dantian like a trickling stream now seemed drawn by some force, beginning to circulate faster.
That "dragon-shaped qi seed" coiled at the center of his sea of qi—condensed by accident when he broke through to the second realm—now seemed to sense its master's change of state of mind.
It was no longer dormant. Instead it raised its head and let out a clear, resonant dragon's roar that only Gu Chengming could hear.
Gu Chengming felt his whole body shudder.
The meridians within him trembled faintly amid that dragon's roar, and the barriers that had still been somewhat sluggish melted away in an instant before this power, like snowdrifts meeting boiling water.
No need to deliberately batter against them, no need to consume any pill.
Everything came as naturally as water reaching its channel.
The spiritual energy of the surrounding heaven and earth seemed to answer a summons, surging madly into this small meditation chamber, gathering at Gu Chengming's side and forming a visible vortex of spiritual energy.
The already-abundant true essence was once again compressed and refined, growing more viscous and weighty, faintly shimmering with a layer of pale golden luster.
In that instant the dragon-shaped qi seed too seemed to grow a circle larger; its once-blurred scales became somewhat clearer, and as it swam it stirred the true essence to surge through the meridians like a great river.
Second realm, third layer.
Gu Chengming slowly opened his eyes, and within the void of the meditation chamber a flash of lightning seemed to streak past.
He raised his hand, drawing on no spiritual power at all, merely pressing his fingers together like a sword and slashing lightly through the air.
"Hiss."
A faint sound of tearing silk issued from the air, and an extremely faint sword mark lingered in the void for a moment before slowly dissipating.
He could feel that his strength now had risen another notch compared to before he slew the flood dragon.
"Whew..."
Gu Chengming let out a long breath of turbid air. That breath congealed before him without scattering, actually swirling for a moment before slowly dispersing.
The next day.
Gu Chengming had originally intended to go give his debriefing to Vice-Commander Liu, but unexpectedly he couldn't find the man.
With no other choice, he could only return to the Hidden Dragon Court to take a look, and to get a sense of what had recently happened in the Capital while he was at it.
In the Hidden Dragon Court there was only Li Dujiang alone.
And upon seeing Gu Chengming, Li Dujiang smiled and said, "Well slain."
Gu Chengming reflexively replied, "Senior Brother flatters me. It was merely a moment of indignation. I only fear it'll bring no small amount of trouble down the line."
"Trouble there will be, of course, but not as soon as you imagine."
Li Dujiang lifted his goji-berry tea and took a sip, clearly intimately familiar with the East Sea situation:
"The Fubai Dragon Lord does indeed shield his own, but for now he can't act."
"Still, don't let your guard down. I've heard the elders of our sect mention that old flood dragon before—he's an utterly unscrupulous piece of work."
"Ordinary fifth-realm great cultivators all want to save some face, but this Fubai Dragon Lord is different. If he frees up his hands, he'll disregard his status and come to assassinate you in person."
Hearing this, Gu Chengming's heart stirred slightly.
Although this Li Dujiang was a disciple of the Hunyuan Sect, this analysis of the East Sea situation and even of the Dragon Lord's character was a bit too detailed—as though he had some very deep connection over there.
But everyone had their own secrets, and Gu Chengming did not pry. He merely cupped his hands and thanked him: "Many thanks for the reminder, Senior Brother Li."
"As fellow comrades, we ought to watch out for one another."
Li Dujiang waved a hand, then his gaze swept over Gu Chengming as though he'd recalled something:
"Right—since you were the one who slew that flood dragon, did you take its flood-dragon core?"
Gu Chengming nodded: "It's in my storage pouch."
"That's a fine thing. You're a sword cultivator, and that flood-dragon core is a superb primary material for forging a water-element Dharma Sword. If you can find a skilled artifact-forging master to use it as the core, supplemented by the flood dragon's spine and dragon sinews, the Dharma Sword forged would be of at least second-grade top quality."
At the two words "forge a sword," Gu Chengming began to calculate, thinking to himself that perhaps he ought to find an opportunity later to hand the materials over to the Artifact Forging Hall.
If he could once again piece together a Dharma Sword, then even facing a cultivator at the early third realm, he wouldn't be the least bit afraid even without using the Red Dust Art.
Another day later.
The lanes of Jishan Ward were not broad. On either side the locust trees grew with a certain abandon in the early days of spring, their branches and leaves stretching out over the wall-tops, sifting the already-dim moonlight into mottled, fragmentary shards.
Fu Xiaoxiao kicked a small pebble underfoot, mumbling something rather indistinctly under her breath.
If the disciples of the Harmonious Joy Sect could see their own Elder Fu—who never let her feet touch the dust—at this moment, hunched furtively at the mouth of an alley where mortals lived, looking exactly like a guilty little thieving wench, their jaws would surely drop wide open.
"Lousy place..."
Fu Xiaoxiao cast a disdainful glance at the slightly muddy bluestone slabs underfoot.
"How could a Wenjian Sect disciple be holed up in some godforsaken nook like this? Isn't he afraid of losing face?"
Even as she scolded Gu Chengming in her heart, she couldn't help rising onto her tiptoes, peering over that not-too-tall courtyard wall toward the small lit-up courtyard within.
In truth, she should have come long ago.
Or rather, she had actually wanted to settle accounts with this fellow half a month ago.
Ever since that day at the Heart Sutra Hall when she'd been "forced" to hand over those five hundred spirit stones and to teach him that single finger-strike of the Red Dust Art, her heart had been like a cat scratching at it—she felt she'd lost face, yet also harbored some inexplicable, faint... anticipation?
Anticipation that this boy might come to the Imperial Academy again to seek her instruction, if only to sort out the cause and effect of those five hundred spirit stones clearly.
For this, she had racked her brains over the past half month.
As an elder of the Harmonious Joy Sect, what she normally detested most was that sort of pedantic, sour-and-stuffy Imperial Academy full of "thus spoke the masters."
Yet for this half month, she had forced herself to endure all that discomfort and trekked to the Imperial Academy day after day.
One day she pretended to go to the infirmary for a follow-up visit with her junior sister Li Suizhuang; the next she carried some ancient tome she couldn't make heads or tails of to the Heart Sutra Hall to consult materials; she even deliberately strolled a few extra circles, as if by chance, along the very corridor Gu Chengming had left by last time.
She'd even prepared her opening line.
If she ran into him, she would raise an eyebrow nonchalantly and say:
"Oh? What a coincidence? This one happens to have been comprehending the Dao here of late. Since we've run into each other, I'll just casually test you on your studies."
And the result? A whole half month! She never saw so much as a ghost of his shadow!
That boy had vanished as though into thin air. Forget the Imperial Academy—she'd even secretly sent people from Yayuan to stake out the gates of the Night-Watch Bureau, and all the news she got back was "Lord Gu is away on official business, return date uncertain."
Away on official business?
The more Fu Xiaoxiao thought about it, the angrier she got—the silk handkerchief embroidered with twin lotuses in her hand was nearly wrung into a twist.
Fine, leave then—but after learning so much of the Red Dust Art from her, he couldn't even bother to say goodbye before going? Did he really take this one for the sort of disposable tool you toss aside the moment the money's paid?
"Heartless little scoundrel..."
Fu Xiaoxiao gnashed her teeth resentfully and was just about to give the base of the wall a couple of kicks to vent her anger.
Suddenly, an exceedingly faint scent of tea, carrying a touch of warmth, drifted out from within the courtyard wall on the evening breeze. Mingled within it was a wisp of a faintly familiar aura.
It was the distinctive flow of qi-mechanism of the "Yin-Yang Creation Strategy."
Fu Xiaoxiao's movements stilled, her ears twitching keenly.
He's back?
Her originally somewhat gloomy mood lifted with a few notes of delight the instant she sensed this.
"Hmph. So he does know to come back."
She straightened the hem of her skirt, then tidied a chignon at the air that wasn't even mussed, drew a deep breath, and soundlessly vaulted over the courtyard wall.
In the courtyard, the lamplight was dim and yellow.
Gu Chengming was sitting beside the stone table, holding a volume of miscellaneous jottings he'd just bought from the bookshop, a pot of hot tea at his hand.
Yu Wenqiu was not present. The orange cat, however, lay sprawled at his feet, sleeping soundly.
Though he had long since sensed the movement outside the courtyard, when that flash of red truly alighted before him, Gu Chengming still obligingly let a few notes of surprise show on his face and rose to salute: "Senior Sister Fu? Calling so deep in the night—might I ask what..."
"Spare me your empty pleasantries!"
Fu Xiaoxiao landed and stood firm, arms crossed, chin tilted slightly upward.
Seeing his ruddy complexion and steady breath—indeed even more advanced than half a month ago, and not really injured at all—the heart she'd kept suspended for half a month finally settled back into place without a trace.
"What? This one isn't allowed to come?"
Fu Xiaoxiao gave a cold snort, her gaze sweeping the crude little courtyard with extreme fastidiousness, finally landing in disdain on the everyday robe Gu Chengming hadn't yet had time to change out of:
"You're living quite the leisurely life—sipping tea, reading books, playing with a cat."
Gu Chengming smiled and took no offense, casually lifting the teapot, turning over a clean teacup, and pushing it across to her:
"Senior Sister jests. I've only just returned from a business trip and stolen half a day's leisure from this floating life."
"Who wants your lousy tea?"
Fu Xiaoxiao said so with her mouth, yet her body was very honest—she walked over, plopped down on the stone stool, picked up the teacup, and took a sip.
The hot tea slid down her throat, dispelling the night chill of the alley.
She set down the cup, but her eyes were still unfriendly as she gave Gu Chengming a sidelong glance, her tone carrying a hint of coming to settle a score:
"A business trip? You make it sound so easy. One trip and you're gone half a month—not even a word of news."
Gu Chengming was momentarily taken aback, looking somewhat helpless: "It happened suddenly—it was an urgent order from the Bureau. I had no time to bid anyone farewell."
"Anyone?"
Those two words seemed to step right on Fu Xiaoxiao's tail.
Her eyebrows shot up, and she set the teacup down hard on the stone table with a crisp "clack," startling even the orange cat at her feet, which gave a jolt and lifted its head to glance at her.
"Gu Chengming, you'd best get this straight."
Fu Xiaoxiao leaned forward, those big eyes glaring fixedly at him, full of menacing momentum—though, owing to her petite frame, it came off looking rather fiercely adorable:
"This one passed you the 'Yin-Yang Creation Strategy' and guided you in the Red Dust Art. There's a great cause and effect between us! By seniority, I'm your senior sister; by sentiment, I'm half your master! And you call that 'anyone'?"
"I waited at the Imperial Academy—"
The words had no sooner left her mouth than she abruptly bit her tongue, nearly blurting out, "I waited half a month for you at the Imperial Academy."
If she said that, where would her dignity as an elder go? Wouldn't it make her look just like some pining wife languishing in her boudoir?
Gu Chengming watched her—words half-spoken and swallowed, cheeks slightly flushed—and found it inwardly amusing, though he feigned ignorance and asked, following her lead:
"And how was Senior Sister at the Imperial Academy?"
"Ahem..."
Fu Xiaoxiao's gaze wavered, and she rather stiffly changed the subject:
"I was at the Imperial Academy... I just happened to pass by the Heart Sutra Hall and thought I'd test you on your studies in passing—and well, lo and behold, not a soul to be seen! Made this one waste her precious cultivation time for nothing!"
"This debt—how do you propose to settle it?"
She glared at Gu Chengming with the air of "this isn't over until you give me an explanation."
Gu Chengming looked at her, his heart clear as a bright mirror.
Though this Elder Fu's tongue gave no quarter, the first thing she'd looked for upon coming here deep in the night was whether he'd been hurt. This seemingly shrewish interrogation concealed nothing more, behind it, than a sliver of small grievance at having been overlooked.
The relationship between the two of them truly hadn't reached the point of pledging life and death—but it was by no means a passing acquaintance either.
"It was this junior brother's fault." Gu Chengming readily complied, cupping his hands in apology, his manner exceedingly sincere:
"This junior brother left in haste at the time, and truly was ill-considered. To have kept Senior Sister waiting so long... no, to have made Senior Sister come all that way for nothing—it really is my sin."
"Hmph, so long as you know it."
Seeing that he admitted his fault with good attitude, most of Fu Xiaoxiao's pique smoothed over.
She hadn't truly been angry to begin with—she'd only needed a step down, a step that could prove "I matter, and you can't ignore me."
Now that the step was there, she naturally took it and came down along it.
"Seeing as you did a decent job over in the East Sea this time, this one won't hold it against you."
Fu Xiaoxiao picked up the teacup again, and this time drank far more contentedly.
As she drank, she sized up Gu Chengming out of the corner of her eye, her tone growing a touch more casual, carrying a few notes of curiosity: "Come to think of it, that flood-dragon demon... did you really kill it all by yourself?"
Though it was written plainly on the Imperial Astronomical Bureau's ranking, she still found it a little incredible.
A second-realm slaying a third-realm—that was no ordinary matter anywhere.
"More or less. I borrowed some outside force."
"Outside force?" Fu Xiaoxiao's eyes lit up. She set down the teacup and leaned in closer: "Did you use the Red Dust Art this one taught you?"
Gu Chengming looked at that pretty face mere inches away—he could even make out her long lashes fluttering and blinking.
"Senior Sister sees clearly. I borrowed an unfinished old cause and effect, used red dust qi as a guide, and forcibly slew that flood-dragon demon."
Fu Xiaoxiao couldn't help but marvel: "How on earth is that head of yours put together? You've studied for only half a month and can already use the Red Dust Art to such a degree?"
She looked at Gu Chengming, the admiration in her eyes no longer concealable, even carrying a few notes of the smug glee of "I've struck gold."
Such a fine seedling—if only she could lure him back to the Harmonious Joy Sect...
No, no. This boy was now the apple of the Wenjian Sect's eye, and a favorite of the Night-Watch Bureau. Forcibly luring him away certainly wouldn't work.
But at the very least she had to make him feel a bit more of a sense of belonging toward the Harmonious Joy Sect.
At this thought, Fu Xiaoxiao gave a light cough: "Ahem... since you've already touched the threshold of the Red Dust Art, that counts as having crossed into the door."
"But then... crossing the threshold is one thing, and mastery is another. Although you succeeded by luck this time, that was thanks to favorable terrain and human accord. Were the setting different, with no ready-made cause and effect for you to borrow, what would you do then?"
This was precisely the very question Gu Chengming had been pondering throughout his days of seclusion.
He composed his expression, his manner now carrying a few more notes of gravity compared to his earlier perfunctoriness:
"This is exactly the confusion in this junior brother's heart."
"That day in the East Sea, though I barely managed to pull it off, on later reflection I always felt my handling of the red dust qi was too crude. Once I left that specific environment, the red dust qi within my body would be like a tree without roots—hard to mobilize any great cause and effect."
"I wonder if Senior Sister might instruct me?"
Watching Gu Chengming's posture of humble inquiry, Fu Xiaoxiao was satisfied at heart, and the slight snubbing she'd endured at the Imperial Academy vanished utterly like mist.
"The reason you feel it's crude is that your understanding of the two words 'red dust' still rests at the stage of observing—you have not truly entered."
"Entered?" Gu Chengming mused.
"Correct."
Fu Xiaoxiao rose to her feet and paced a couple of steps about this not-very-large little courtyard.
She walked to beneath the osmanthus tree, reached up to snap off a length of withered twig, and turned to look at Gu Chengming: "Look at this twig. While it's on the tree, it brims with vitality; once it falls to the ground, it's withered wood and dead ashes. This too is cause and effect."
"You dwell within the Night-Watch Bureau, seemingly standing in the deepest depths of the red dust, having witnessed all the world's myriad states—mortals, demons, monsters, and ghosts. But your heart has always drifted apart, on the outside."
"For cultivating the sword Dao, this state of mind may be a good thing—a Lucid Sword-Heart, after all."
"But for cultivating the red dust Dao of our Harmonious Joy Sect, this is the greatest taboo."
"If you do not enter the red dust, how can you know the red dust's bitterness? And not knowing the red dust's bitterness, how can you govern the cause and effect of all living beings?"
Hearing this, Gu Chengming felt a faint stir in his heart.
As a transmigrator, he had indeed always subconsciously treated this world as a game. Even after going through so much, he was still habitually inclined to scrutinize everything from the perspective of a "player," calculating the optimal solution.
This sense of detachment had protected him, yet it had also limited him.
"Then in Senior Sister's view, how should I enter?" Gu Chengming asked.
A smile curled at the corner of Fu Xiaoxiao's mouth. She tossed away the withered twig in her hand, clapped her palms together, and walked back to the stone table, bracing both hands on its surface and leaning in close to Gu Chengming, lowering her voice and speaking with an air of mystery:
"It's very simple. Go incur debts and forge feuds, go give your heart away and commit blunders, go let the threads of this world wind themselves about you."
At this point, she seemed to feel the suggestion was too radical: "Of course, all of that is far too dangerous. This one has a far simpler method."
She pointed at herself, chin lifting slightly: "For instance... try owing this one a few more favors?"
Gu Chengming looked at her and couldn't help a wry chuckle—after going around such a great big circle, so she'd been lying in wait for him right here all along.
The night breeze drifted past, and the osmanthus tree rustled.
At the gate, the little Elder Yu chewed on her fingernail, feeling rather put out.
Would it be a bit improper to push the door open and go in now?
Why did she somehow feel a bit pathetic herself?
____
________________________________________
If you want more chapters, please consider supporting my page on (P). with 50 advanced chapters available on (P)
👻 Join the crew by searching Leanzin on (P). You know the spot! 😉