Chapter Eighty-Seven: I... Could Very Well Become a Legend! [Seeking Monthly Votes]

The riverbank, winding and serene after the mist had cleared, was adorned by short oars and sunlit sands. The water pavilion, bathed in clouds and sunlight, sparkled upon the clean shore. On the banks of West Lake, willows swayed in the spring breeze, brushing against the robes and garments of those strolling leisurely.

Anle and the Grand Scholar wandered along the embankment, savoring the morning light and the tranquil scenery, feeling perfectly at ease and natural. Flower boats dotted the lake, while the banks teemed with countless scholars and literati, all bustling and waiting for the appearance of the gentle Fairy Yunrou from the flower boats.

Yet Anle’s purpose in coming to West Lake was not to meet Fairy Yunrou, but to find a quiet place for a conversation with the Grand Scholar. He had underestimated his own rising fame; along the way, many scholars greeted him with bows and respectful salutations, calling him “Master An.”

Their words brimmed with respect, their eyes shining with admiration. The events of yesterday, when Anle set a table and composed poetry before the Prime Minister Qin’s residence to prove his innocence, had already spread throughout Lin’an. Setting aside the widely cherished verses, it was Anle’s upright, unyielding spirit that earned the admiration of many.

After all, it was the Prime Minister Qin, a figure of immense authority in Lin’an. Which scholar would dare act so boldly? When the Prime Minister accused him of cheating, any other scholar would have found themselves in the dungeon of the Dali Temple, lamenting their fate and hoping for salvation.

But Master An did not yield. Instead, he struck first, composing poetry at the minister’s gate, displaying his proud demeanor, and drawing upon the scholarly aura of the Academy. His actions stirred the hearts of scholars, inspiring reverence and awe.

This was the backbone scholars should possess, the quality of never bowing to adversity.

Most thrilling to the scholars was that Anle had so openly humiliated the Prime Minister, who could only silently endure it. This made Anle even more admirable. To impress and retreat unscathed—such elegance was what scholars aspired to.

Anle and the Grand Scholar rented a small boat, drifting across West Lake as they talked. They discussed many topics; the Grand Scholar, well-versed in knowledge, imparted much wisdom, and explained his views on Neo-Confucianism. Anle listened quietly, occasionally offering his own insights and opinions. Their conversation was lively, a unique sight: an elder and a youth boating and debating.

Eventually, the Grand Scholar revealed his purpose.

“Master An, you have a great affinity with the Wenqu Stele Academy. The Academy needs talented young men like yourself.”

“Therefore, I have come today mainly to invite you to join the Academy,” Grand Scholar Zhu Huoxi said with a smile, stroking his beard.

“Originally, I wanted the Third Scholar to invite you, since he is close to Zhao Huangting and has admired your paintings of bamboo and galloping horses. But he declined, saying he is too ashamed to invite you, as your involvement in the cheating scandal was largely due to the jealousy of some Academy scholars.”

“So I myself must come and invite you,” said the Grand Scholar, rising and bowing deeply to Anle.

“This bow is an apology on behalf of the Academy scholars,” he said.

Anle hurriedly stood and helped the Grand Scholar up.

But he refused the apology: “Sir, you are an elder. If anyone should apologize, it is those who, out of envy and without evidence, accused me of cheating.”

“Moreover, even if they came to apologize, I would not accept it.”

“If I had not gathered the courage to display my aura before the minister’s residence, would I have ended up in the Dali Temple prison, subjected to rumors and unable to clear my name? Even if the charges were eventually dropped, the joy of academic achievement would have been lost, and no simple apology could undo such harm.”

Anle shook his head.

He felt increasingly little goodwill toward the Academy scholars, whose qualities—scheming, jealousy, arrogance, sycophancy—were all too common, leaving him uninterested in their company.

“Sir, my friend Liu Yue is still imprisoned. I hope you can help clear his name,” Anle said, clasping his hands in salute.

Grand Scholar Zhu Huoxi nodded.

“Huateng’s Liu Yue does possess talent. I have seen his writings and paintings. However, he differs from you, as Xu Shun did indeed cheat, and Liu Yue is closely associated with him, having visited Xu You together. In the exam, their answers to the final question on the northern expedition matched Xu Shun’s views. Therefore, determining his innocence will require careful investigation.”

“But rest assured, I will oversee the investigation to ensure he is not mistreated. If he is truly innocent, I will personally accept him as my student, helping him clear his name.”

Anle was delighted, feeling happy for Liu Yue, and bowed again.

He knew that if the Grand Scholar took Liu Yue as a student, rumors would no longer taint him. How could someone chosen by the Grand Scholar be guilty of cheating?

“Thank you, Sir. But as for the Academy, I will not join. Scholarly spirit fills the world; knowledge is everywhere, and one need not confine oneself to the Academy,” Anle replied, declining the invitation.

The Grand Scholar was not surprised and continued, “What if I invited you to join as a teacher?”

Anle was momentarily taken aback, but still shook his head. “Even less so. If I became a teacher, envy would only increase. The scholars would be discontent, and I would have to work to win them over before I could teach. It would be troublesome, and I must cultivate my sword aura. If my spirit becomes unsettled, my sword might lose its edge.”

“Therefore, it is better not to join; both sides will be at peace.”

The Grand Scholar sighed softly.

Seeing this, Anle thought for a moment and said, “Sir, I wonder if I may speak frankly. The Academy is supposed to be a sanctuary for scholars, a place for learning. If it becomes too entangled with those in power, it loses its original intent.”

“Without that intent, scholarship becomes less pure, and it is harder to nurture the talent needed to awaken the Wenqu Stele’s aura.”

The Grand Scholar listened, gazing at the shimmering lake, and fell silent.

The boat docked.

Anle stepped onto the embankment, saluted the Grand Scholar, and said, “Sir, I must go to the Lin residence to paint for the young masters. I bid you farewell.”

The Grand Scholar smiled and nodded, making no attempt to detain him.

He knew Anle had made his decision.

Anle turned and left, two swords at his waist, white sleeves fluttering like spring wind, vanishing along the West Lake embankment.

Soon after Anle’s departure, a clear aura swept across the boat, which rocked gently. An old scholar in a Confucian robe appeared, sitting where Anle had been, facing the Grand Scholar.

“I was right, wasn’t I? Anle would never join the Academy. He spoke plainly, but he was correct: the Academy is now clouded by factions and politics, all striving for power and losing the heart of learning.”

“If Anle truly joined, his sword aura might suffer. If the environment taints his spirit, that would be a great loss.”

“Look at the Academy now: the Wenqu rankings are meaningless, and it has been years since anyone awakened the aura.”

“The Way of the Sage has become a farce,” the Third Scholar said, flicking his finger and sending ripples across the lake, rocking the boat.

“That’s why I say the Academy needs reform, and so does the court.”

Anle left West Lake, heading toward Quiet Street.

He passed the familiar stone archway and knocked on the gate of the Lin residence. It was again Miss Liuxiang who opened the door, her eyes shining like the stars as she gazed at the youth outside, vibrant and full of spring spirit.

“Master An!”

Liuxiang was ecstatic, her admiration for the youth deepening. His actions yesterday seemed miraculous, as if the Star of Literature had descended to earth.

Even if Lin Zhuifeng didn’t shout about it everywhere, everyone knew of Anle’s deeds.

The feud between the Lin and Qin households was well known in Lin’an.

Thus, Anle’s poetry before the Qin residence, striking at the Prime Minister’s dignity, was a source of satisfaction for everyone in the Lin residence.

“Good morning, Miss Liuxiang,” Anle replied with a gentle smile, stepping inside. As he walked, the residents greeted him warmly and respectfully, creating an atmosphere of admiration.

Anle responded to each with a smile.

From a distance, Xixiang approached, her smile gentle and radiant. “Master An, Lady Hua is waiting for you at Tianbo Pavilion.”

Anle was not surprised. After humiliating the Prime Minister yesterday, he had gone to West Lake to listen to music and cultivate his spirit, without informing Lady Hua. Now he must explain.

He followed Xixiang toward Tianbo Pavilion.

A gentle breeze stirred the waters, where koi and goldfish swirled in vibrant clusters, like blooming fireworks.

Inside the main hall, Lady Hua sat reading. Seeing Anle approach, she closed her book, smiled, and nodded. “You’re here.”

Anle saluted her.

Lady Hua glanced at him, and an intangible sword intent seemed to sweep through the hall—the intent of the Heart Sword.

A flicker of surprise and shock appeared in Lady Hua’s eyes. “You’ve formed your soul?”

The fourth stage of Soul Refinement.

If she remembered correctly, Anle had only recently reached the threshold before the spring exams.

How had he already gathered his soul? Was it yesterday, before the Qin residence, when his thoughts cleared and he tempered his spirit?

Though the Qingshan sword masked his cultivation, Lady Hua could sense it because her Heart Sword was related to Anle’s Sword Waterfall.

“Yes, I condensed my soul yesterday. It’s still a bit unstable, but after a night or two of meditation, it should settle,” Anle replied with a smile.

Lady Hua was genuinely shocked; even she, known as a genius of Soul Refinement, had not advanced as quickly.

“Impressive,” Lady Hua said, suppressing her astonishment and maintaining composure, striving to uphold the image of a master before Anle.

Pouring him tea, Lady Hua said, “After yesterday, your fame in Lin’an is assured. But you’ve also completely offended the Prime Minister.”

“No other way. Accusations of cheating must be met with thunderous proof, or I would be ruined. Rumors spread quickly, but clearing them takes endless effort,” Anle said, sipping West Lake Dragon Well tea, his demeanor relaxed.

Condensing his soul had boosted Anle’s confidence.

“True. It’s difficult to deal with exam scandals. I didn’t think of a better way at the time,” Lady Hua nodded, not hiding her earlier indecision.

“As for offending the Prime Minister, it hardly matters. The northern expedition exam topic already placed me in opposition to his views. His son Qin Qianqiu bears me a grudge and would even see me dead. There is no room for reconciliation between us,” Anle said calmly, fully aware of the situation.

Suddenly, Anle looked up at Lady Hua. “Lady Hua, I once said that a drop of kindness should be repaid a thousandfold.”

“Now, after the spring exams, I am confident in my results. When the rankings are released, I should be among the top scholars, eligible for the palace examination.”

“In the past, I had no right to ask about the Wind-Calming Sword for the Lin family. But now, having condensed my soul, I feel I may compete in the palace examination.”

“Would Lady Hua grant me this opportunity?”

With Anle’s words, Tianbo Pavilion fell silent, the only sound the boiling water on the charcoal stove.

Xixiang, standing nearby, held her breath, her eyes tense.

Lady Hua held her teacup, unmoving, her long lashes trembling as she gazed at Anle—the spirited youth before her.

“You wish to help the Lin family obtain the Wind-Calming Sword?” Lady Hua asked.

She guessed Anle’s intent—he feared disrupting her arrangements if he competed.

Anle nodded.

But Lady Hua set down her cup and smiled, shaking her head. “You need not burden yourself, nor wade into these turbulent waters.”

“If only to repay kindness, let it be. I merely gave you a cultivation method; your own brilliance on the path of cultivation is your own.”

“Now, though you have condensed your soul and reached the fourth stage of Soul Refinement, your prospects in the palace examination for the Wind-Calming Sword are slim.”

“This year’s palace exam is filled with geniuses, all vying for the top spot and a chance to meet the Sage. You will face formidable opponents.”

“The top six of the Young Sage Rankings are all nearly unbeatable for you. For example, Sima Pudao of the Sima family, ranked third on the Wenqu list and sixth on the Young Sage list, is at the peak of the fifth stage of Soul Refinement and only a step from the sixth.”

“Then there’s the fifth-ranked prodigy of the Wang family, at the fourth stage of Soul Refinement but at the peak of the fifth stage of physical refinement—a talent who intends to compete for the top spot.”

“Wen Xi needs no introduction. Above him is Qin Lishi’s son, Qin Hua’an, born of a maid, at the peak of both physical and soul refinement.”

“The first and second princes, due to their status, do not participate in the spring exams, but even without them, with your third stage of physical refinement and newly entered fourth stage of soul refinement, your chances are slim.”

Lady Hua spoke softly.

“These are the geniuses of the Young Sage Rankings, most nominated for the palace exam, and others who qualified by their achievements in the spring exams. They are all hopes cultivated by various factions, all at the fifth stage, posing immense pressure for you.”

“So I believe your chances for the top spot this year are low. You can wait for the next spring exam; by then, your cultivation will surely allow you to reach the top.”

Lady Hua advised gently.

She believed in Anle’s talent, but with little time before the palace exam, even his brilliance could not soar so quickly.

A gentle breeze stirred Anle’s white robes in the pavilion.

He finished his tea and smiled. “How can one know without trying?”

“You once told me of General You’an’s story. He was ranked only slightly higher than me on the Young Sage list, but he challenged the geniuses, fought every seven days, rain or shine, always victorious, building an invincible momentum and gathering scholarly aura, finally attaining the top rank in the spring exams.”

“He was called the Legendary Scholar. Hearing his story stirs my heart and fills me with longing. Now, I wish to try as well—not just for the Lin family, but for myself, to strive for a glorious future, just as I gave up the guardian’s title at the Sixth Mountain to pursue the Young Sage’s order.”

Anle spoke, his gaze bright, a surge of heroism rising within him.

His heroic spirit resonated, the Qingshan sword at his waist quivered, and the Ink Pool sword sang, responding to his mood.

“You are different from him. He fought every seven days to build momentum, but your time is tighter, and Li You’an was a legend,” Lady Hua said, gazing at the spirited youth, her voice trembling.

“Lady, legends are made. If General You’an could become a legend, why not me?”

Anle was full of vigor, his sword aura soaring with heroic energy, stirring the pavilion.

The great roc rises with the wind, soaring ninety thousand miles.

In that moment, the youth’s spirit was like the great roc, breaking through clouds and ascending to the heavens.

He had listened to legends, but did not fear them.

He wished to forge his own legend.

Even if he failed and was shattered in the process, he feared nothing.

His noble ambition, shining like the sun, melted the snow of a thousand mountains.

Anle’s brows were resolute, his spirit fierce, and his gaze bright as he looked at Lady Hua and smiled.

“Lady, help me.”

Lady Hua’s heart was shaken, gazing at the audacious, heroic youth, a trace of expectation appearing on her lips.

“As long as I remain in Lin’an, I will protect your path.”

“Go, build your invincible momentum, gather your sword aura, and create your legend.”

PS: Seeking votes to climb the rankings, please support!

“Brother Shen.”

“Mm.”

Shen Changqing walked along the road, meeting acquaintances and exchanging greetings or nods.

Yet everyone’s face was devoid of excess emotion, as if indifferent to all things.

To this, Shen Changqing was accustomed.

Because this was the Demon Suppression Bureau, an institution maintaining the stability of Great Qin, primarily tasked with slaying demons and monsters, though it had other duties as well.

Every member of the Bureau had blood on their hands.

When one becomes used to life and death, they grow indifferent to most things.

At first, Shen Changqing found this world unsettling, but gradually he adapted.

The Demon Suppression Bureau was vast.

Those who remained were either formidable experts or those with the potential to become such.

Shen Changqing belonged to the latter.

The Bureau had two roles: Guardian and Demon Slayer.

Everyone started as the lowest-ranked Demon Slayer, then advanced step by step, hoping to become a Guardian.

Shen Changqing’s predecessor was an apprentice Demon Slayer—the lowest rank.

With inherited memories, Shen Changqing was familiar with the Bureau’s environment.

He quickly arrived at a particular pavilion.

Unlike the Bureau’s usual atmosphere of grim resolve, this pavilion stood out like a crane among chickens, offering a rare tranquility amid the bloodshed.

Its doors were open, people coming and going.

Shen Changqing hesitated only briefly before stepping inside.

The environment changed instantly.

A blend of ink fragrance and faint blood greeted him, making his brows instinctively furrow, though they soon relaxed.

Everyone in the Bureau bore the scent of blood, which could never truly be washed away.