Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Lady of the Lake Invites You Aboard

Spring had returned, yet the wind and rain lingered, unwilling to dispel the last chill.

The next day dawned.

Warm sunlight crept up the horizon.

An Le had not slept a wink that night, but instead felt invigorated, as if his spirit had been refined and transcended the mundane, leaving him brimming with energy.

He had spent the night painting, sketching bamboo in ink, using the resilience of the stalk and the sharpness of the leaves to temper the surging sword furnace at his brow, gradually calming its tumult.

Yesterday’s uproar had faded into silence, and An Le remained largely unaffected. Luo Qingchen had departed Lin’an with the body from Mount Casting; whether that man lived or died was of no concern to An Le. Yet, the promise made to Luo Qingchen lingered in his memory.

After washing, An Le changed into a fresh blue robe, fastened the Ink Pool and Green Mountain swords at his waist, and left the courtyard.

At the mouth of the alley, he ate a bowl of tofu pudding, reading as he walked, and made his habitual way toward West Lake.

The spring breeze carried a trace of winter’s chill. As he reached the lakeside, the grass grew lush and verdant.

The spring scenery had returned to West Lake, and the water was greener than dyed silk.

He walked along Qingbo Street, where yesterday a battle between cultivators had unfolded. Today, the pedestrians hurried by, and not a trace of the conflict remained.

Clad in a wide-sleeved blue robe, sword at his waist, perhaps due to his transcendent spirit, his bearing was ever more striking—his eyes deep, his features handsome. Walking along the avenue, he drew the gaze of many passersby.

In the distance, a familiar figure approached hurriedly—it was none other than Huang Xian, the captain from the Black Bureau.

“Master An,”

Huang Xian, upon seeing An Le, visibly relaxed.

“Last night at Qingbo Street, there was a dispute among cultivators. Young Master Qin, son of the Prime Minister, was brutally humiliated by the once-famous Luo Qingchen… I feared you might be caught in the turmoil, but it seems you are well.”

Huang Xian’s demeanor lightened as he clasped his hands and smiled.

An Le sensed the genuine concern in his words, and returned the gesture: “Thank you for your care, Captain Huang. Though somewhat affected, all is well.”

Huang Xian nodded. “Master An, the Spring Imperial Examination is approaching. Security in Lin’an will be stricter these days. Young Master Qin will be more restrained; you may rest assured.”

“In half a month, the examination will begin. I won’t keep you longer, Master An. May you excel in the Spring Imperial Examination, rank high among the scholars, and fulfill your ambitions!”

With a few cordial words, Huang Xian departed, sword at his hip, heading to his post at the Black Bureau.

An Le smiled, passed him by, reading as he continued toward West Lake.

With the Spring Imperial Examination near, the atmosphere in Lin’an had markedly changed. Among the people on the street, there were more scholars and literati reading as they walked.

The ancient city was steeped in the fragrance of books and learning.

At West Lake, strolling along the white jade causeway, he bathed in the spring breeze and read to still his heart, quietly refining the sword energy at his brow, sensing the vital essence of heaven and earth.

The lake’s emerald waves rippled, flower boats drifted gently, and the sound of zithers and flutes wafted from within.

Those scholars and literati who had once conversed with An Le returned, greeting him from afar as he read alone. One, in particular, approached for a lively chat.

“Brother, you’ve come again to admire the flower boats by West Lake. You truly have refined taste.”

The newcomer laughed, clasped his hands, and introduced himself: “I am Liu Yue of the Huating Liu clan, courtesy name Haoqing. Fate brings us together; may I ask your name?”

An Le smiled, clasped his hands in return: “My surname is An, given name Le, from Chongzhou. A pleasure to meet you.”

Scholar Liu Yue’s enthusiasm did not wane, and he chatted amiably with An Le about the various charms of the young ladies aboard the flower boats.

Suddenly, exclamations rose from the lakeshore.

Everyone looked over to see the Sword Maiden, Yun Rou, gliding across West Lake atop her sword, landing upon a flower boat.

Days had passed without sight of Yun Rou, and now she appeared once more. The mood among the literati and scholars was instantly enlivened.

“Brother, do you know the status of Yun Rou, the Sword Maiden of the flower boats? She is truly extraordinary. Even the most distinguished cultivator in Lin’an’s Flower Pavilion cannot compare to her.”

“Rumor has it that the power and patrons behind Yun Rou are beyond reach!”

Liu Yue spoke in a low voice.

An Le nodded with a smile, unsurprised, and quietly drew four strands of Time Qi from the long-absent Yun Rou.

Having refined his spirit, An Le could now extract an additional strand from a single target. As for the number of daily targets, he had not yet tested it—he would soon visit the Lin residence and could experiment with the young gentlemen there.

Four strands of Time Qi added to his account, An Le was quite pleased.

Having gathered what he needed, An Le was not inclined to linger. He bid farewell to Liu Yue and prepared to leave for the Lin residence.

Liu Yue paused, sensing a unique independence in the handsome young man before him.

Just one glance at Yun Rou, then he left?

For a scholar, one glance was never enough; why not savor a few more?

Suddenly, from the distant flower boat, Yun Rou stood poised, veiled, her gaze shifting to rest upon An Le.

“Sir, please stay.”

A gentle voice drifted from the boat at the lake’s center, carried by the breeze—it was Yun Rou, her spirit channeling the wind.

An Le, in blue robes billowing, halted, a hint of puzzlement in his eyes as he turned. On West Lake, a small boat glided slowly; a maid stood gracefully upon it, guiding the vessel to the white jade causeway, where she bowed to An Le.

“My lady says her teacher and Master An have enjoyed pleasant conversation. Thus, she sent me to ask if Master An would come aboard the flower boat for a meeting.”

The maid’s voice was like a songbird in a secluded valley, melodious and gentle.

An Le was stunned, and so was Liu Yue, who felt a tingle crawl up his scalp—not because Yun Rou’s maid had issued an invitation, but because of the information revealed.

An… Master An?

The handsome, impossibly young youth beside him was Master An?

Rumor had it that the master of ink bamboo paintings was surnamed An, but his given name was never mentioned.

So, Master An shared the same interests as these scholars after all.

Ignoring the excited Liu Yue, An Le frowned slightly. “I enjoyed pleasant conversation with Yun Rou’s teacher?”

Who was Yun Rou’s teacher?

An Le truly could not recall having such an exchange recently—could it have been the elder at the Imperial Temple?

He shook his head and looked up at Yun Rou, who stood upon the flower boat, her face veiled but her bright eyes shining like the stars in a night sky.

Yun Rou nodded slightly in greeting.

An Le took a deep breath, then clasped his hands and replied, “Thank you for the invitation, Miss Yun Rou, but I have matters to attend to today. I shall visit another day.”

He declined!

Liu Yue, beside him, was shaken. An invitation from Yun Rou was the dream of many scholars and poets.

Yet, the one who refused was the renowned Master An of Lin’an—that was understandable.

On the flower boat, Yun Rou smiled serenely, her spiritual voice carried by the wind to An Le’s ear.

“No matter, Yun Rou will await Master An. After all, you nearly became Yun Rou’s fellow disciple.”

An Le was startled, then his eyes brightened.

He had once turned down the invitation to become the guardian of the Sixth Mountain and had conversed at length with its master, who gifted him the Ink Pool.

Could Yun Rou be the Sixth Mountain’s first guardian?

An Le looked again, but Yun Rou had already withdrawn into the flower boat, out of sight. As for his conjecture, he could only let it pass without confirmation.

Still, the first strand of Time Qi he ever collected had been from Yun Rou, and the first golden Time Qi as well.

Honoring the ties of fate, Yun Rou had been kind to him. Since she had extended an invitation, he would visit when he had leisure.

But today he had to work at the Lin residence and had not requested leave from Lady Hua, so he declined the invitation.

Lingering no longer at the lakeshore, An Le bid farewell to Liu Yue.

Liu Yue, overwhelmed, hurriedly returned the gesture.

An Le smiled, swords at his waist, and melted into the throng.

When Liu Yue looked up, Master An, famed throughout Lin’an, had already vanished without a trace.

…
…

To recognize the East Wind’s face is to know that the myriad colors belong to spring.

A succession of spring rains had refreshed Lin’an, bringing new scenery.

Willows brushed the roadside, and flowering branches stretched beyond the walls of grand estates, blossoming with the essence of spring.

An Le crossed quiet streets and arrived at the Lin residence, where the door was opened by the maid Liuxiang, who had long been waiting.

“Master An.”

Liuxiang pursed her red lips, shyly gazing at An Le.

She knew he visited daily, so she always waited at the gate to greet him.

An Le thanked her with a smile.

Liuxiang curtsied. “There are guests in the residence today. The Lady especially instructed that if Master An arrives, he is to be invited to the Pavilion of Water and Waves to meet them.”

An Le’s expression was tinged with surprise, but he smiled. “Then I shall ask Miss Liuxiang to lead the way.”

Liuxiang covered her mouth with a laugh and led him toward the Pavilion of Water and Waves.

Once there, Liuxiang stopped. An Le paid his respects, then crossed the white jade bridge to the main hall.

Inside, the hall was lively.

Lady Hua sat at the head seat, dressed in purple gauze, her dark hair flowing, chatting happily with another matron of equal elegance.

Below, sat a tall and sturdy figure, whom An Le recognized as Ye Chong of the Ye family, whom he’d met atop the Sixth Mountain.

Noticing An Le’s gaze, Ye Chong nodded and clasped his hands in greeting.

An Le returned the gesture.

Nearby, Lin Qingyin and Lin Zhuifeng were conversing with two young women. An Le looked over; one was Ye Wenxi, the maiden who had climbed the mountain with him in the spring rain.

The other girl resembled Ye Wenxi but was more spirited and lively.

Ye Wenxi noticed An Le and nodded with gentle grace.

At the head seat, Lady Hua, who was enjoying conversation with Lady Ye, turned her gaze to An Le.

At that moment, she was stunned, a look of shock and astonishment in her eyes.

A sword furnace hidden at the brow, spirit radiant—an anomaly of transcendent refinement.

When did this youth reach the stage of prenatal breath?