Chapter 1071:

Xu Baozao placed the manuscript back and blinked her eyes. “Do you know why Master Bailian refuses to enter the capital and take office?”

Xu Fengnian waited for her to continue.

Xu Baozao clasped her hands behind her back, walked to the window, then turned and leaned against the wall. “The Liang faction has suddenly risen to power, causing panic throughout the court. Naturally, they will band together to resist the Liang faction. They absolutely cannot allow the civil and military officials from the northwestern frontier to gain overwhelming influence. Not to mention the weakened Qing faction, which only knows how to sway with the wind—even the scholar factions from Jiangnan and Liaodong will likely abandon their old grudges and unite. Add to that the two factions of ‘Dragon Followers’ and ‘Dragon Supporters’ around the new emperor, who will also obstruct and join forces with the civil officials to suppress the Liang faction. Under these circumstances, His Majesty will temporarily remain aloof, watching the two tigers fight. But privately, he will inevitably try to win over one or two from the Liang faction as his true confidants, to prevent them from becoming too arrogant in the future. Li Gongde, one of the pillars of the Liang faction, is fiercely loyal to the Xu family of the northwest—impossible to sway. The emperor wouldn’t even have the face to try. Lu Dongjiang is ambitious but lacks talent, unfit for important roles. Moreover, he’s the father-in-law of that northwestern prince, and the Liang faction itself has never liked him. To the emperor and the court, he’s merely a useless appendage. Huang Yan and Chang Sui, both men of strong scholarly integrity, are unlikely to switch sides within the next decade. Only Master Bailian, whose roots lie in Longhu Mountain, is in the most awkward position. Once he enters the capital and dons the purple and gold robes, how should he position himself?”

Xu Fengnian nodded but then shook his head. “Yet I’ve heard that Bai Yu once received a clear response—the Northern Liang doesn’t actually mind him changing sides and wholeheartedly pledging allegiance to the new Liyang dynasty.”

Xu Baozao scoffed. “Regardless of whether that’s true or not, even if that prince really gave such permission before his death, my question remains—how would Master Bailian position himself?”

Xu Fengnian asked, “Are you saying that even if Bai Yu finds a place to settle, he won’t feel at peace?”

Xu Baozao raised a thumb and squinted in approval. “The pupil is teachable. Oh, wait—more like the rotten wood can still be carved.”

Xu Fengnian ignored her sarcasm and smiled. “Seems you really should meet Bai Yu. Let’s go to Difei Mountain. With luck, you might even catch a glimpse of the Longhu Mountain’s Grand Master, whom you admire so much.”

Xu Baozao grimaced at the thought of being dragged through the skies again, her usual bravado gone. Timidly, she asked, “Can’t we just walk there? Flying around feels so… unreliable.”

Xu Fengnian shook his head. “I don’t have that much time to waste here.”

Xu Baozao turned away, sulking in silence, arms crossed over her shoulders.

Xu Fengnian chuckled. “A girl of fifteen or sixteen, still so childish. Where I come from, girls your age are already mothers.”

Xu Baozao widened her eyes and spat out what was probably the harshest insult of her life: “You lecherous scoundrel! No wonder you’re doomed to be a bachelor forever!”

Xu Fengnian couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry to disappoint. I may not excel in many things, but when it comes to comparing wives, I’m indisputably the best in the world!”

Xu Baozao refused to lower her arms. “A toad opening its mouth to swallow the heavens, the earth, the sun, and the moon! And another thing—you keep calling him ‘Bai Yu’ so casually! You should address him respectfully as ‘Master Bailian.’ Don’t you know that?!”

Xu Fengnian relented. “Fine, we’ll walk down the mountain, then head straight to Difei Mountain.”

Xu Baozao bargained, “How about we visit Huishan first? We haven’t even seen the Snowy Ridge at Guniudagang yet. It’s practically a crime.”

Xu Fengnian shook his head. “No.”

Xu Baozao’s eyes sparkled. “Then can we at least take a ferry ride again?”

Xu Fengnian nodded.

Ascending a mountain is hard, but descending is even harder.

Xu Baozao had already exhausted her energy climbing up, and now she gritted her teeth through the descent. Xu Fengnian took pleasure in her suffering, deliberately ignoring her struggles.

When they finally boarded the ferry at the foot of Longhu Mountain, the girl collapsed onto the deck, drenched in sweat.

Seeing her limping pitifully earlier, Xu Fengnian knew she must have blisters on her feet. He crouched down and said, “Give me your hand.”

Xu Baozao recoiled like a startled wildcat. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Xu Fengnian pressed two fingers gently against her wrist without waiting for permission. Softly, he said, “In this life, if you only learn to be slick and worldly, you’ll never truly find joy.”

Xu Baozao stiffened at first, but soon she felt as if bathed in a spring breeze, her exhaustion melting away like ice in summer. She was revitalized.

Xu Fengnian withdrew his fingers and stood, gazing serenely at the surging She River. The river breeze fluttered his wide sleeves, and perhaps because he had absorbed some celestial aura from Longhu Mountain’s Heavenly Master Residence, Xu Baozao found him slightly less detestable than usual.

Xu Baozao asked softly, “Can we go to Snowy Ridge? Just this once—I’m begging you.”

Xu Fengnian shook his head firmly. “Pushing your luck isn’t a good habit.”

Xu Baozao sighed softly and let it go.

After disembarking at the next pier, they walked to a secluded spot. Xu Baozao stood there resignedly, looking pitiful.

*”Roaming the northern seas by dawn, gazing at the southern peaks by dusk—a thousand miles in a single day, carried by the swift wind.”*

At the crown of cave heavens, Difei Mountain, two figures appeared halfway up the winding stone path, slowly making their way toward the summit’s Seaview Terrace.

The Difei Mountain range, stretching from Kunlun’s tail to the East Sea, was formed in one majestic sweep. Yet despite being such a blessed land, it had been sealed off by the court during the Yonghui era, forbidding woodcutters from entering. For over twenty years, it lay abandoned, its temples and pavilions crumbling into ruins.

Xu Fengnian knew the reason all too well—Zhao Huangchao, who practiced solitary seclusion to prolong the Liyang Zhao dynasty’s reign, had defied the heavens here, nurturing a vicious dragon to suppress the Western Chu Jiang clan’s fortune.

Xu Baozao had wanted to ask why they weren’t heading straight to the Seaview Terrace, but she quickly realized the answer. Unimpressed, she snorted coldly.

She walked slowly, and Xu Fengnian matched her pace.

Xu Baozao asked, “Do you know what Difei Mountain was called four hundred years ago?”

Xu Fengnian smiled. “Zhongnan Mountain. During the Dafeng dynasty, everything south of the Guangling River was considered uncivilized barbarian land. Difei Mountain, with its Seaview Terrace as the highest point, was said to offer views stretching to the horizon on clear days. It was regarded as the southernmost edge of the Central Plains.”

Xu Baozao was surprised. “How do you know that?”

Xu Fengnian teased, “Did you really think I’m illiterate? If I took the imperial exams now, I might not rank in the top three, but I’d definitely earn a jinshi degree.”

Xu Baozao sneered. “Your tutor must be pitiful, having a student like you—not only unlearned but also fond of empty boasts.”

Xu Fengnian glanced at the sharp-tongued girl. “My master only ever took me as his disciple. When he was alive, he was always silent and rarely smiled. As a child, I thought it was because I disappointed him. Only later did I realize… my master always…”

Xu Baozao waited, but he didn’t finish. Curious, she asked, “Always what? Heartbroken, right?”

Xu Fengnian stopped walking and looked northwest. “My master believed that all people in this world are flowers turning toward the sun. He always hoped I’d hold kindness in my heart for this world.”

Xu Baozao was stunned. Finally, she murmured, “Your master was good. His disciple, not so much.”

Xu Fengnian sighed. “True.”

After the fall of the Dafeng dynasty, the grand southern exodus of scholars and nobles to the Guangling River region established the legitimacy of the Great Chu Jiang clan. Difei Mountain, with its natural barrier-like terrain, significantly hindered the southward advance of the grassland cavalry.

Difei Mountain, blending elegance and grandeur, was once a foundational site for Daoist traditions, its history rivaling that of the Wudang and Longhu Mountains. But its decline was steady. Though the new Liyang dynasty had lifted the mountain’s ban, ordinary folk still regarded it as a perilous place. With its ancient temples hidden deep in the wilderness, it remained sparsely populated. Still, some adventurous officials’ sons or martial artists from nearby had begun exploring its depths, drawn by rumors that the incorruptible Master Bailian had built a thatched hut here, accompanying the young Longhu Mountain Grand Master Zhao Ningshen—one seeking enlightenment, the other delving into scholarship, each complementing the other. Opportunistic half-baked scholars from Jiangnan saw this as their chance, flocking here to feign reclusive nobility, angling for fame. Otherwise, given the treacherous mountain paths, how could they maintain such frequent correspondence, exchanging poetry with those outside? In just two years, an obscure scholar calling himself the “Zhongnan Sage” had even compiled an anthology, *The Southern View Poetry Collection*, which became a sensation in Jiangnan’s literary circles. Nine men were dubbed the “Zhongnan Nine Immortals,” and soon they planned to form a society and lecture, inviting renowned scholars to join their grand endeavor.

Xu Baozao, using a branch as a walking stick, fumed, “One of the last pure lands in the world is about to be tainted again!”

Xu Fengnian chuckled. “You’re the most patriotic one here.”

Xu Baozao remained indignant. “If I were the emperor, I’d never give these hypocrites the time of day. They’re like weeds in a field of scholarly seeds—utterly despicable!”

Xu Fengnian smiled but said nothing. Cynicism harms the liver; being the only sober one breaks the heart.

Suddenly, Xu Baozao grinned and turned to him. “Do you even know what weeds are?”

Xu Fengnian sighed. “I’ve heard the phrase ‘unofficial histories and wild tales.'”

Xu Baozao clicked her tongue—clearly feigning praise to mock.

Xu Fengnian flicked her forehead lightly. “So young, yet so skilled at sarcasm. Who taught you that?”

Xu Baozao wasn’t hurt, just startled.

For a moment, she looked like a young deer in the woods, startled by a passing human.

As they neared the Seaview Terrace at the summit, they passed through a forest of ancient steles, precious relics from the Ganlu era scholars, weathered and worn by centuries. Xu Baozao rushed forward as if entering a treasure trove, crouching before a stele inscribed with the cursive calligraphy of the Great Chu sage Su Xianzhi—*The Stele of Divine Manifestation*. She traced the characters reverently and murmured, “What a line—*’Rain brings the autumn wind, the night air turns fresh.’* The poetry is exquisite, the calligraphy divine—a match made in heaven.”

Xu Fengnian frowned, glancing downhill before relaxing.