Chapter Seven: Lecturing on the Way

Ying Chen did not force himself to appear distant; he simply nodded in acknowledgment. Beyond that, he exchanged no further words with his fellow disciple. Estimating the time, he realized there were still about fifteen minutes before the lecture would begin, so he prepared to close his eyes and rest.

Unexpectedly, no sooner had he shut his eyes than a light laugh sounded at his ear, followed by the words, “Isn’t this Junior Brother Ying? It’s been some time since we last met.”

A rich, fragrant scent immediately enveloped him.

The familiar phrasing brought to mind the detestable Di the Leper, but the voice was unmistakably feminine, heavily laced with the aromas of rouge and perfume.

Ying Chen turned his head, lifting his gaze slightly to meet the newcomer: a captivating woman.

Her figure was voluptuous, her curves alluring, and her attire was nothing short of daring. Aside from a thin gauze draped over her upper body, she wore little more than an undergarment, baring swathes of dazzlingly white skin. Her eyes, shaped like peach blossoms, shimmered with a liquid allure as they fixed on him. Her tone, tinged with a trace of grievance, asked, “What’s this? Has Junior Brother forgotten me?”

“You are… Zhuo Qing?” The name surfaced in Ying Chen’s mind, his brows arching slightly in recognition.

Among the outer disciples who had entered the sect the same year, Zhuo Qing’s reputation easily eclipsed even that of Yan He. There was scarcely anyone who did not know her name. Yet her fame was not due to exceptional talent or unparalleled beauty—but rather her notorious promiscuity.

Whether it was her peers, senior disciples, or even certain outer sect stewards, rumors abounded of fleeting affairs with her, and none were shy about boasting of it.

Zhuo Qing herself seemed perfectly unconcerned, never refuting a thing. Thus, her notoriety spread far and wide.

Yet, as Ying Chen recalled, he and Zhuo Qing had never exchanged words before.

He relaxed his brow and replied coolly, “We’ve never really had any connection, have we?”

Zhuo Qing giggled, her supple form swaying like a blossoming branch and drawing curious glances from those nearby.

Ignoring them, she turned to Ying Chen and said, “We entered the sect the same year and were both assigned to live at the Ink Bamboo Courtyard. How can you say we have no connection?”

Ying Chen was a little surprised. Ink Bamboo Courtyard referred to a cluster of black bamboo groves surrounded by numerous residences, primarily housing outer disciples from his cohort. Still, there were many such “courtyards” at Chishui Cliff.

He hadn’t realized Zhuo Qing also lived at Ink Bamboo Courtyard, but such a trivial link could hardly be called fate.

He withdrew his gaze, unwilling to respond. In truth, Ying Chen found Zhuo Qing a troublesome character, her intentions opaque, and he had no desire to entangle himself with her.

Seeing his indifference, Zhuo Qing seemed unfazed, smiling sweetly as she said, “Junior Brother…”

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“No, I should call you Senior Brother now.” Zhuo Qing continued, “Senior Brother, your cultivation has progressed so swiftly. You’re sure to stand out in the upcoming examination, aren’t you?”

At last, Ying Chen understood.

Among the outer disciples of Chishui Cliff, there was no strict hierarchy among peers; unless close, people typically addressed one another according to their cultivation level. Zhuo Qing’s use of “Senior Brother” signaled her recognition of his advancement—and explained her sudden approach.

He glanced again at the person beside him, coming to appreciate her apparent goodwill a little more. It seemed not everyone on Chishui Cliff was cold and distant; with higher cultivation came higher status, and naturally, more friendliness.

He had just reached the sixth stage of Qi Refinement. At best, he could be called promising, yet he was already experiencing this shift. No wonder the likes of Yan He, the sect’s prodigies, could be so arrogant.

Still, Ying Chen would not let it go to his head. He nodded lightly and replied, “Thank you for your kind words, Junior Sister.”

Zhuo Qing offered a bewitching smile. “Would Senior Brother mind if I sat here?”

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Ying Chen replied.

With another flirtatious smile, Zhuo Qing knelt and settled onto the mat beside him, soon asking about various cultivation difficulties.

She clearly knew how to please men; her questions were all basic enough for Ying Chen to answer with ease. Whether he responded thoroughly or merely brushed her off, she would return his answers with eyes brimming with admiration, lightly biting her red lips, subtly stirring a man’s emotions.

Before Ying Chen could react, the man on his other side suddenly gulped audibly.

Zhuo Qing was not annoyed; she shot the man a glance, then turned again to Ying Chen.

She had always found Ying Chen handsome, though lacking in presence and cultivation. Yet after half a year’s absence, what a transformation! His features were strikingly fine, his brows like a concealed blade—heroic, but not overly fierce. His nose was as straight as a jade mountain. Bathed in the spiritual glow of the sixth stage, he seemed every inch a true Daoist, wholly unlike the riffraff that crowded Chishui Cliff.

Unable to tear her eyes away, she edged a bit closer, her fragrant breath brushing him as she asked, “Senior Brother, is it true you don’t have a companion right now?”

Ying Chen’s eyelid twitched slightly, but he did not answer.

Zhuo Qing was unbothered, edging even closer until he felt the softness of her body pressing against his arm. Leaning toward his ear, she whispered, “I could keep you company.”

“I practice the Maiden’s Art; I can assure you, Senior Brother, both your body and mind would find bliss. It’s also greatly beneficial for cultivation…”

---

“Oh?” Ying Chen replied with a mock smile. “Is that so? Unfortunately, I’m still consolidating my foundation and have no interest in dual cultivation at the moment… Perhaps another time.”

Ying Chen was not averse to intimacy; the Xiantian Dao’s techniques did not require one to preserve yang energy. In fact, at Chishui Cliff, many disciples practiced dual cultivation or even more esoteric arts. He rejected Zhuo Qing not out of prudery, but because he had no taste for well-trodden ground—and Zhuo Qing’s entanglements were too complex for his liking.

Zhuo Qing could hardly miss his rebuff, and though a flicker of disappointment crossed her face, she showed no anger. Her tone remained gentle, “No matter, Senior Brother’s devotion to cultivation is admirable.”

After that, she spoke less, never provoking Ying Chen’s annoyance nor coming across as cold.

Ying Chen secretly marveled—this woman was truly a master of her craft.

Someone like her would thrive anywhere, especially at Chishui Cliff. Though he had no desire to share her bed, it might not hurt to remain on cordial terms.

Their words grew fewer, less intimate, but the sense of distance between them seemed to diminish. They chatted idly until noon approached.

The sun climbed to its zenith, the clouds over Chishui Cliff thinning to let golden light spill onto the Black Jade Altar. Suddenly, the crowd squinted as a figure appeared atop the altar.

He wore a tall crown and a Daoist robe, its front open to reveal a ribbed, emaciated chest; the face, gaunt and severe, looked less like a celestial sage than a skeleton draped in robes. He seated himself in silence, eyes closed.

The assembly beneath the altar quieted at once. After a moment, a young Daoist attendant appeared, striking the bell and chime to announce the start of Elder Gu’s lecture.

At last, Elder Gu, seated above, opened his eyes slightly and spoke: “Alchemy and the ingestion of elixirs are essential arts in cultivation.”

“To learn the alchemical craft, one must first understand herbs: their types, ages, properties… How does one identify them? Grinding, slicing, sorting, roasting, purifying with fire and water—how are these processes managed?”

“There is too much to cover in a single lecture. If you wish to study further, consult my ‘Essence of Materia Medica’—a copy can be found in the Library Pavilion.”

Ying Chen could not help but twitch a corner of his mouth.

Of course, the books in the Library Pavilion could only be read in exchange for contribution points.