Chapter Eighteen: The Youth Repays Enmity with Candor, Lord Lin, the Mongol Imperial Son-in-law

Tianbo Pavilion stood amidst rising mist and drizzle, the haze ascending from the great pond, caressed by gentle spring winds and lending the scene an air of tranquil pleasure.

The turmoil at the quiet street had already passed; though the three ladies within the pavilion had not left the estate, all were well aware of what had transpired.

Madame Hua, dignified and radiant, bore a flawless beauty untouched by time, yet the depth in her eyes revealed a mature allure. She gazed at the youth before her—refined in bearing, handsome in features, an aura of determination and fearlessness emanating from him. The admiration at the corner of her eyes grew ever stronger.

Anle’s hair was soaked by the unruly spring rain, still damp, but the moisture could not erase the hidden yet unyielding resolve that shone within him. Even Lin Chasing Wind and Lin Gentle Voice noticed the change in Anle—a transformation in his spirit.

“There’s no need to thank me; this time, it was Lin Manor that drew you into the trouble,” Madame Hua said, lips parted in earnest. “If you no longer wish to paint for Lin Manor, you may say so now. The ten Spirit Coins and two volumes of scripture shall serve as Lin Manor’s compensation to you.”

Anle shook his head at her words. “Madame speaks too gravely. Since I have agreed to paint for Lin Manor’s young masters, I will not shrink back from a little hardship. To break one’s promise is to betray one’s own path; such a mind cannot pursue cultivation.”

“The gifts of the ‘Five Beasts Body Tempering Technique’ and ‘Sword Cascade Painting’ are kindnesses I will never forget. The value of those two volumes far surpasses a single painting. Someday, I shall repay this debt.”

He spoke with equal seriousness.

“You bear no resentment? Had I not intervened, even if you survived today, your Dao-heart would have been clouded. You began your enlightenment late; if your Dao-heart is tainted, the road of cultivation will be far more arduous.” Madame Hua smiled, clearly pleased, but pressed further.

“Resentment? Of course I resent it. Though Madame’s intervention shook Luo Qingchen, disturbing his Dao-heart, it was for Lin Manor’s reputation. My resentment for Luo Qingchen remains; someday, I will settle that score.”

“A gentleman repays virtue with virtue, but answers resentment with uprightness.”

“Lin Manor treats me well, and I am grateful. Luo Qingchen belittles me and seeks to destroy my cultivation; naturally, I hold resentment in my heart,” Anle replied calmly.

Within the main hall of the pavilion, his words rang with strength and conviction. He did not hide his resentment nor feign magnanimity.

Madame Hua’s smile grew, her appreciation for Anle deepening. So soon after beginning his cultivation, he already spoke of returning the affront to Luo Qingchen someday. Such courage, such fearlessness.

“Do you know who Luo Qingchen is?” Madame Hua poured him a cup of tea, her exquisite face half-smiling.

Anle respectfully accepted the steaming tea and took a sip, its fragrance dispelling the lingering chill from the spring rain.

“Luo Qingchen, a contemporary talent of the Luo family in Qingzhou—entered meditation at five, transcended the mundane at ten, birthed his primordial spirit in the Mud Pill Palace at eighteen, and at twenty-five reached the state of ‘forgetting the self’. His martial cultivation is also remarkable; at twenty-six, with innate strength, he arrived in Lin’an and challenged the world’s prodigies…”

“He fought two of the capital’s geniuses, winning both bouts, his fame unmatched, and was personally recruited by the Second Master of the Academy,” Madame Hua recounted Luo Qingchen’s deeds with a gentle tone.

Anle listened intently; Luo Qingchen was indeed a genius.

“But in his third bout, confident in his sword intent, he challenged the legendary scholar Li You’an at Feixuetang, hoping to enter the academy in unrivaled glory. Sadly, Li You’an crushed him in a single move with overwhelming mental strength, clouding his Dao-heart… For more than a decade, he stagnated at the state of ‘forgetting the self’ in the academy. Only after receiving the ‘East Sea Heart-cleansing Pearl’ from Chancellor Qin did he purge the dust from his Dao-heart and break through to the fifth realm…”

Anle drew a deep breath, catching a crucial detail. Luo Qingchen stood backed by Chancellor Qin—the prime minister of Great Zhao, whose power was immense. No wonder Luo Qingchen dared to act so brazenly at the quiet street; he had Chancellor Qin behind him.

Even Anle, unversed in worldly affairs, knew that relations between Lin Manor and Chancellor Qin were far from harmonious, even hostile.

“The gap between you and Luo Qingchen is vast. He is a cultivator beyond the fifth realm, while you have only just opened your blood circulation and entered meditation—a newcomer. Do you still have the courage to contend with him?” Madame Hua asked with a light laugh.

At this, the pavilion grew silent, save for the sound of spring rain on the tiles. Lin Chasing Wind and Lin Gentle Voice watched with curiosity.

Anle did not hesitate, smiling warmly. “Cultivation is about a clear and resolute mind. If I shrink from danger, lacking the courage to face the tiger’s den, what use is cultivation? Why tread this path at all?”

“Besides, Madame, I am still cultivating—there’s no saying I cannot surpass him in the end. Today, you have clouded Luo Qingchen’s Dao-heart again; perhaps someday, I too can shatter his Dao-heart. Who can say?”

Silence.

The entire Tianbo Pavilion was utterly still, save for the boiling water on the stove.

After a moment, Madame Hua covered her mouth and laughed, her laughter growing louder and richer.

“Well said! A youth should be bold—neither servile nor arrogant, fearless and unyielding. Excellent.”

“A cultivator must have a fearless heart, a spirit that towers to the heavens, daring to raise a sword and challenge immortals above.” Madame Hua, still laughing, clapped her plump thigh in delight.

It seemed as though some hidden worry was dispelled, a sense of clarity and enlightenment emerging.

Anle and the two women exchanged glances, wondering what was so amusing about his words filled with ambition.

“All right, go on then. Since you have chosen Lin Manor and do not regret it, Lin Manor will protect you. From now on in Lin’an, so long as I, Hua Jie Bing, remain, you will be safe and free to cultivate.”

Madame Hua’s smile lingered, but her words were earnest.

Anle was moved; Madame Hua’s offer amounted to becoming his protector. This was only their second meeting—truly a chance encounter—yet she had already lit his path and now offered to guard him.

Such kindness weighed heavily.

“Thank you, Madame Hua. I will remember this great favor,” Anle bowed deeply.

Madame Hua nodded slightly and reopened her scholar’s tome, reading quietly.

“Ninth Sister, Chasing Wind, take Young Master An to find the others. I’ll enjoy my book in peace.”

She reclined on the couch, her gaze falling upon the yellowed pages.

Anle took his leave, departing with Lin Chasing Wind and Lin Gentle Voice.

As their figures faded into the misty spring rain, Madame Hua finally looked up from her tome, murmuring softly, “A pity, my days in Lin’an are numbered. How far can you go, I wonder?”

…

Between the long corridors, the spring breeze blew, lifting their robes.

“Young Master An, Fourth Lord has been at Lanke Temple for half a year and hasn’t returned. Otherwise, we would have you paint for him first,” Lin Chasing Wind said, a fire poker at her waist, eyes curiously studying Anle.

“Fourth Lord Lin?” Anle nodded in response. He guessed that painting for the young masters would proceed from highest to lowest status; Fourth Lord Lin was likely a figure of similar rank to Madame Hua.

In Lin Manor, the highest status belonged to the Old Lady, followed by Madame Hua and Fourth Lord Lin.

“Fourth Lord’s status is special… If you paint for him, you must be careful,” Lin Chasing Wind reminded.

Anle was momentarily puzzled, showing a hint of confusion.

Lin Gentle Voice, who had come to learn painting, explained, “Fourth Uncle once led the army against the Golden Wolf Army of the Yuanmeng Empire. Defeated and captured, he was held under house arrest for sixty years… He changed his name to Lin—a single wood—and called himself Qingfeng. He married a princess of the Yuanmeng Empire, and now that he’s returned to Lin’an, he naturally attracts gossip…”

Anle was astonished. Captured by the Yuanmeng Empire, and even married a princess before returning to Lin’an—remarkable.

He found himself intrigued by Fourth Lord Lin. To marry a princess while a captive in the imperial camp and return safely to Great Zhao—this required extraordinary skill.

The three left the corridor, each opening an oil-paper umbrella.

“Let’s go to the Martial Hall. The young masters should be practicing there,” Lin Chasing Wind suggested.

Soon, they halted, umbrellas raised, gazing into the distance.

There, in the misty rain, a slender figure approached, wearing a bamboo hat and a rain cloak, walking slowly.

Raindrops gathered at the edge of the hat and fell like strings of pearls.

At his waist hung a woodcutter’s knife, its blade and handle wet with rain. He wore muddy straw sandals, stepping upon earth softened by the downpour.

Slap, slap…

The sound of straw sandals rising and falling echoed, the air growing heavy and oppressive.

Lin Gentle Voice’s face blanched, as if caught gossiping, and she nervously bit her lip.

“Fo…Fourth Uncle…”

ps: Asking for votes~