Chapter Fifty-Five: The Maiden

That streak of escape light was dazzling and vivid; with just a gentle sweep, it seemed as if colorful ribbons danced in the air, splendid and radiant. Within the light stood a young woman of seventeen or eighteen, with elegant brows and sharp eyes, her beauty delicate as a painting. The lively spirit in her gaze lent her an air of heroic vitality, and the blush on her cheeks added another layer of color, making her appear all the more charming and animated.

“Master…”

Tu Shan Ge spread his hands. It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to avoid her, but the Cloud Soaring Vessel, while impressive in appearance, was ultimately a low-grade talisman tool whose speed paled in comparison to the Floating Tower Ship. Despite his utmost effort to fly, it took barely half a cup of tea’s time for her to catch up.

“The Merging Chariot may be faster, but it only seats one. I can’t very well tie you and Tu Shan Ge to the tail with a string and fly you like kites, can I?” Chen Heng shook his head, condensing a cloud beneath his feet to support himself. He stepped outside the vessel and, from afar, bowed respectfully.

“Sister Zhu, it has been a long time.”

After his greeting, Chen Heng remarked, “You entered the Dao ahead of me; ability takes precedence. I am unworthy of the title ‘senior brother.’”

The newcomer was a member of the Zhu clan in Lan Liang City, named Zhu Wanzhi. Not long after her birth, a refiner from White Crane Cavern had taken her as a disciple and brought her to the mountain to learn the Dao. Though Chen Heng’s former self had heard her name, he had never seen her face. It was only recently, when he and Xu Zhi returned to Lan Liang City from the Xuan Zhen Sect, that he happened upon Zhu Wanzhi leading her clan members on a hunting expedition.

The reasons for the Chen clan’s persecution by the Daoist of Yang Mountain had also come from Zhu Wanzhi’s mouth, allowing Chen Heng to learn of it beforehand. Their acquaintance, however, was limited to just that one meeting. After Yang Mountain’s Daoist perished and Chen Heng claimed his ritual ground, they had not crossed paths again.

Tu Shan Ge had mentioned that during Chen Heng’s secluded cultivation in the mountain’s chamber, Zhu Wanzhi had sought him out several times. But Chen Heng had been preoccupied with studying the methods of qi refinement and thus missed the visits.

“Brother Chen.”

Seeing Chen Heng step outside the vessel, Zhu Wanzhi exclaimed in delight, “Why have you avoided me so many times? If I hadn’t seen Lord Tu Shan today, I wouldn’t have known you were aboard this ship…”

Zhu Wanzhi seemed not to hear his words, instead inviting, “Brother, come inside and talk! This Floating Tower Ship is a treasure newly acquired by Brother Zhou. Several fellow disciples from White Crane Cavern are aboard—I’ll gladly introduce you!”

White Crane Cavern, like Rock Refining Mountain and Flower Sword Sect, was one of the few local powers with a Daoist refiner in residence. Thirty years ago, when Xuan Zhen Sect’s master Ai Jian sought to claim Little Gan Mountain as the sect’s base, he had clashed with these other sects, killing many Daoists. The former elder of Flower Sword Sect, renowned as the greatest sword master across six kingdoms, was so terrified by Ai Jian’s flying sword that his corpse was cleaved cleanly into three pieces.

Because of this, relations between Xuan Zhen Sect and neighboring sects had always been distant. Only after Ai Jian’s cultivation advanced did ties begin to ease; during festivals and ritual assemblies, the other sects would now send gifts to show respect.

Upon Zhu Wanzhi’s invitation, Chen Heng silently took measure. Sensing that the three or five presences aboard the Floating Tower Ship were not particularly strong, he reckoned he could handle them all with little difficulty, should it come to blows. At the same time, the ship hovered quietly a hundred yards away, as if waiting for the two of them.

After a brief hesitation, he no longer resisted Zhu Wanzhi’s persistent entreaties, nodding quietly and following her forward.

Not far away, on the blue expanse, lay a splendid golden tower ship. Its hull was flat and elongated, resembling a vast phoenix leaf, wide and magnificent. Upon closer inspection, it was divided into three tiers, with all doors and windows open in the main pavilion. The interior was tastefully appointed, and when the lamps were lit, the whole hall was awash in brilliance.

From its spiritual aura alone, it was clear the Floating Tower Ship was a fine mid-grade talisman tool—superior not only to Chen Heng’s Cloud Soaring Vessel, but even to the Merging Chariot.

As Chen Heng and Zhu Wanzhi entered the main hall, a young Daoist with a straw hat and rain cloak, his hair white as snow, rose to greet them with laughter.

“I’ve long heard of you, Brother Chen! You accomplished great feats in Yuanjing—thanks to your kindness, the Rong clan survived!”

He clasped his hands in greeting. “I am Zhou Xingling of White Crane Cavern. My master, Refiner Jiang Gu, is a close friend of your sect’s Elder Gu Jun. I’ve heard much from Sister Zhu about your talents, and meeting you today surpasses all I’d heard!”

As he spoke, Zhu Wanzhi flushed crimson, her ears burning. The disciples of White Crane Cavern burst into laughter, clapping their hands.

“Brother Zhou is so courteous that I am quite embarrassed,” Chen Heng replied, surveying the spacious hall, which could seat nearly a hundred. Seven or eight disciples from White Crane Cavern were present; as his gaze swept them, each nodded in greeting.

“But Sister Zhu is so lovely; how could I dare entertain such thoughts?” Chen Heng smiled lightly. “I am unworthy and would never dare sully her reputation. Please, don’t jest on this matter.”

“I…”

Zhu Wanzhi grew anxious. Zhou Xingling glanced at her, signaling not to fret; he had a plan. He promptly drew Chen Heng to a seat, poured him wine personally, and began to chat.

Though Zhu Wanzhi felt aggrieved, she could only return to her seat and watch their conversation, sulking.

Meanwhile, as their discussion deepened, Zhou Xingling’s expression shifted from surprise to delight. He knew of Chen Heng—a pitiable man dragged off by Yan Zhen to serve as consort for the Xuan Zhen Sect. Had Yan Zhen not died suddenly, Chen Heng might have spent his life imprisoned on Little Gan Mountain.

Initially, Zhou Xingling’s interest was only because his junior sister admired Chen Heng, having met him once and become so lovesick she lost her appetite. Meeting him again today was truly fortunate!

Thus, he set aside his dignity and played the role of matchmaker. Yet, matchmaking was unfamiliar territory for Zhou Xingling; he was unsure what to say. His fellow disciples were equally useless, staring blankly and grateful just not to make mistakes.

Caught in this dilemma, Zhou Xingling, thinking quickly, raised a question about Dao cultivation. Realizing his mistake as soon as he spoke, he hurried to apologize. Yet to his surprise, Chen Heng answered with ease, his explanations clear and methodical, earning Zhou Xingling’s admiration and deepening his curiosity.

He probed further, and again Chen Heng responded precisely. Thus, not only was Zhou Xingling overjoyed, but even the other disciples of White Crane Cavern grew excited. Both sides exchanged numerous questions, debating topics such as “Heaven and earth are born together, yang rises, yin hides,” “cultivation through the twelve months,” “grasping the secret of life,” “solitary meditation,” and “breaking the sheep chariot,” among others.

Though Chen Heng had not been in this world long, he had crammed countless Daoist texts within the True Law Realm, gaining a rough grasp of their principles. Moreover, he had cultivated the “Divine House Pivot Hua Dao Lord’s Discourse on the Primordial True Canon.” With such a lofty foundation, even if Zhou Xingling and his White Crane Cavern brothers posed tricky questions, Chen Heng could not always explain them fully, but he could offer key insights.

Taking the opportunity, Chen Heng also asked about several puzzles in his own qi refinement practice. Though these White Crane Cavern disciples came from a small sect, they had been trained from childhood and taught by renowned masters; their knowledge was not shallow. In their lively discussion, they helped resolve most of his doubts.

Both sides were delighted, feeling as if they had met too late in life.

Zhu Wanzhi waited anxiously for half an hour, but the conversation only grew more spirited, drifting from qi refinement and elixirs to alchemy, swordsmanship, health cultivation, and strengthening the vital energy. She listened in astonishment, finally unable to endure, and sent several urgent messages to Zhou Xingling and the others. Yet, the White Crane Cavern Daoists were engrossed, paying her no heed.

Only after another quarter-hour, when Zhou Xingling himself felt tired and paused for tea, did the debate finally subside.

“Brother Chen, you are truly extraordinary! Take ‘leaping’—when Brother Xiahou asked me, I understood a little but couldn’t explain it well. My master grew impatient and told me to read the Dao texts again…” Zhou Xingling drank deeply, unable to contain his admiration. “But you clarified it in just a few words. Such breadth of knowledge!”

His praise was echoed by the disciples of White Crane Cavern. The tall and burly Brother Xiahou sighed and thanked Chen Heng repeatedly.

“With your explanation, I need not fear the paddle at the next lesson,” he shook his head, smiling wryly. “Heaven pity me; my thick skin is more like that of a martial brawler than a qi refiner.”

“Yuan yang’s sinking is concealment, rising is leaping; the dormant dragon is concealment, movement is leaping—all comes from the heart’s activation.” Chen Heng smiled calmly. “I merely happened to recall it; I am unworthy of praise. I must thank you all for resolving my doubts—it’s a great relief to my mind.”

“Brother Chen, you’re truly a pity…” Zhou Xingling looked at him with complex emotions, sighing, “My master often says, Xuan Zhen Sect’s Ai Jian has no intention of teaching—he treats his disciples as property and servants, not true inheritors. Though the sect dominates the region, none can oppose it, but its fate is not enduring. When calamity strikes, it will scatter like birds and beasts.”

“If only you had joined White Crane Cavern…” Zhou Xingling could not help but sigh again. “Though our sect is small, the elders are approachable. They may scheme, but never cross the line. If you were my junior brother, my master would be overjoyed!”

Chen Heng merely smiled, saying nothing. Zhou Xingling realized his own forwardness, shook his head, and fell silent.

Now he felt Chen Heng was a refined and cultured man, whose extraordinary looks were matched by his conversation, learning, and bearing—all first-rate in his experience. Reflecting on his junior sister’s feelings, he began to doubt.

“Sister Zhu seems not to match him. Even if I force a union, it may not end well…” Zhou Xingling glanced at Zhu Wanzhi, thinking secretly, “Besides, Chen Heng has no interest in her. Why make him unhappy and lose a friend with whom I can discuss the Dao?”

With this thought, Zhou Xingling felt as if a great weight had lifted, his whole body relaxing.

Zhu Wanzhi, meanwhile, found the situation bizarre. She had asked her brothers to arrange a match, yet it had devolved into a heated debate among men, leaving her sidelined.

“Brother Chen, in a few days, Lord Huaiwu’s Immortal Market will open—will you attend?” With his worries gone, Zhou Xingling had forgotten all about his junior sister. The other White Crane Cavern disciples chimed in noisily.

“Lord Huaiwu…” Chen Heng pondered, finally recalling the name. “I heard he went east to seek dragons, moving his base from the Southern Region to become a son-in-law of the Dragon Palace. Why has he returned?”

“Marrying a dragon girl is not so easy! Lord Huaiwu is a wandering cultivator, not a prodigy of the Eight Sects or Six Schools. The old dragons value status above all—how could they accept him?” a disciple shook his head. “Even if Lord Huaiwu is a Daoist of the Cavern Profound, he can only marry shellmaidens, clam maidens, or jiao maidens. As for dragon maidens, that’s beyond our reach.”

“But before he left for the Eastern Sea, his Immortal Market was always in the central Southern Region. Now he has returned and plans to set it up here, near our sect—a stroke of luck!”

The disciple handed a jade slip to Chen Heng. “Brother Chen, this contains information. If you have time, be sure to attend. When Lord Huaiwu is in a good mood, who knows what rewards he might grant!”

“Thank you, brother—I’ll gladly accept.” Chen Heng saluted, tucking the jade slip into his robe.

He did not linger. After a few more words, he politely declined the White Crane Cavern crowd’s invitation to talk through the night, and took his leave amid Zhu Wanzhi’s conflicted gaze.

Not long after Chen Heng departed, another brilliant escape light, like a rainbow spanning water, swept into the hall.

“Sister Wen? You’re a step late.”

When the rainbow vanished, a young woman in plain attire stood in the hall. Her figure was delicate and graceful, slender and upright. Though she wore a veil and hat, obscuring her features, her elegant posture alone declared her a peerless beauty.

Upon her arrival, the disciples of White Crane Cavern flushed red, not daring to look up; only Zhou Xingling managed to keep his composure.

“What nonsense! Are you trying to imitate those bald monks with their riddles? Speak plainly!” Beside the woman stood a plump girl in blue, her cheeks and arms round. She stood with hands on hips, shouting, “If I’d come sooner, would I be able to send you to your funeral?”

“…,” Zhou Xingling smiled wryly, unperturbed by her rudeness.

“Just now, Chen Heng of Xuan Zhen Sect left—not long ago. He is truly a celestial being, his bearing and demeanor exceptional!” Zhou Xingling declared solemnly, “Sister Wen, if you meet him, you’ll surely have much to discuss.”

“Chen Heng… That name sounds familiar,” the plump girl muttered, sending a secret message, “Miss, I feel like I’ve heard of this fool from the Southern Region before.”

“When Aunt visited Ai Jian of Xuan Zhen Sect, she met a beautiful youth whom she could not forget, mentioning him to me several times. Unfortunately, he was not the Yin Prince,” the woman replied, her voice gentle as two pieces of jade softly resonating. “That youth’s name was Chen Heng.”