Chapter 107: Winter Thunder

(So thrilling—the first alliance of Liaozhai has finally come into being, a moment of boundless joy and heartfelt gratitude... Hmm, the monthly votes have surpassed five hundred. Tomorrow at the third watch, I shall attend to the matter; the day after, likely the same. Let me offer my congratulations to Alliance Leader A!)

Jinshan Temple, Monk Dawnlight...

After entering Suzhou City, Chen Jianchen had heard whispers about Jinshan Temple, a venerable and grand monastery steeped in history. It was perched beside a river bend on the lower reaches of the Suzhou River, nestled against the mountain and water, sprawling across several hundred acres. Its magnificence was such that it was counted among the Ten Scenic Wonders of Suzhou, renowned far and wide. Remarkably, throughout the imperial court’s repeated anti-Buddhist campaigns, Jinshan Temple remained untouched, standing firm and flourishing ever more, its incense burning brighter than ever, surely a testament to some profound secret within.

Suddenly, Chen Jianchen thought of the three great Taoist sects—Laoshan, Kunlun, and Shushan—and wondered if the Buddhist school likewise had a dominant faction. Could it be Jinshan Temple itself?

Yet, reflecting further, what of this recent event? The Zhengming Emperor had organized a grand propagation of Buddhist teachings, even summoning numerous monks from the distant land of Duyin. The Buddhist tradition’s roots were indeed ancient and far-reaching, but ultimately, it had been introduced from Duyin. After all these years of missionary work in the Central Plains, surely both form and substance had undergone considerable transformation.

Upon meeting Monk Dawnlight, Chen Jianchen immediately sensed the man’s profound spiritual power, though precisely how deep remained unknown. His acquaintance with Daoist Master Qingyun had enlightened him on many Taoist concepts, but knowledge of Buddhism was sparse.

Perhaps a visit to Jinshan Temple was in order?

Judging from Monk Dawnlight’s demeanor earlier, there was no hostility, and he had even left word inviting Chen Jianchen for a conversation.

This thought lingered in Chen Jianchen’s mind as he returned to the inn where Wang Fu resided. Outside, the Huangfu family’s carriage still stood unmoved.

“Sir, you’re back,” greeted the coachman, Ma Liu, quickly.

Then Xiaojü emerged from the carriage. “Sir, Miss wishes to see you.”

Chen Jianchen acknowledged and drew aside the curtain, stepping inside to find Jiaona sitting with her head bowed, motionless. After instructing Ma Liu to depart the city, Chen Jianchen fell silent, resting back against the cushion with eyes closed, seeking to restore his spirit.

—In the bustling streets, his clash with Monk Dawnlight, though tentative, had drained his energy significantly. A few days of quiet recuperation were necessary.

A heavy silence ensued.

“Sir, why don’t you scold me?” Jiaona finally mustered the courage to ask.

Chen Jianchen snorted coldly. “Would scolding help?”

“Sir, did you already know my true identity and my father’s?”

“Yes.”

At this moment, there was no need for concealment.

Jiaona shuddered, raising her head to meet Chen Jianchen’s gaze with shining eyes. “Then why aren’t you afraid?”

Chen Jianchen laughed heartily. “A scholar must be upright and clear-minded, capable of understanding reason, sympathizing with emotion, and discerning right from wrong. To me, whether one is human or demon matters not; the only difference is a single thought of good or evil.”

He spoke candidly, without pretense, as if stating a universal truth that resonated across the world.

Suddenly, Jiaona burst into tears, collapsing into Chen Jianchen’s arms. Her sobs were fierce, and within moments, her tears had soaked his garments.

Outside, Xiaojü, hearing the commotion, feared the worst—surely the sir was beating the young lady so cruelly! But having been instructed by Jiaona not to enter the carriage no matter what, she dared not intervene, enduring her worry in silence.

Looking at Jiaona’s distraught form, Chen Jianchen sighed softly: this fox spirit was but a mischievous child at heart, desperate for a steadfast and warm refuge after causing trouble... Perhaps the reason she had driven away eight tutors was not a lack of affection for study, but sheer boredom.

Boredom often leads one to act against reason—let alone a fox spirit! Stirring chaos and unrest in search of amusement.

“All right, Miss Huangfu, if you keep crying like this and Master Huangfu sees you, he’ll think I’ve bullied you,” Chen Jianchen chided gently.

Jiaona buried her face deeper. “But you did bully me!”

Chen Jianchen chuckled. “If you cry any more, your eyes will swell like two peaches and that would be quite unpleasant.”

At these words, Jiaona’s sobbing abruptly ceased. Lifting her head, she noticed the vast expanse of Chen Jianchen’s chest drenched by her tears and blushed faintly.

Chen Jianchen shook his head with a sigh, murmuring, “No wonder those tutors resigned on their own. Being a tutor to a young lady is no ordinary task—one must teach and serve as nursemaid alike.”

Jiaona showed a rare hint of shyness. “That’s not true.”

Chen Jianchen smiled quietly but changed the subject, asking, “Miss Huangfu, you have dwelt in the mortal world for many years now, living in Huzhuang, haven’t you?”

Jiaona’s eyes widened, suddenly alert. “Why do you ask?”

Chen Jianchen laughed softly. “Just curious.”

“But I don’t know you yet,” Jiaona replied. “That night when you broke my spell... Sir, how could a mere scholar possess such power?”

Chen Jianchen raised his head proudly. “You underestimate the scholars of this world. Confucius said, ‘I cultivate my noble spirit.’ As long as a scholar’s mind is upright and will strong, no evil can penetrate. Mere spells are powerless against me.”

The existence of the “Three Establishments True Chapter” was a secret Chen Jianchen guarded closely, seldom sharing or needing to explain. In the Tiantong Dynasty, the idea of scholars cultivating righteous energy was more readily accepted—even if in many years people had heard of it but never witnessed it.

Righteous energy?

Jiaona was briefly stunned. She had heard her father mention “righteous energy” during his earnest teachings, but had dismissed it as a vague, intangible concept akin to conscience, invisible and powerless. Yet Chen Jianchen’s demonstration was entirely different—his righteous energy transformed into a majestic sword, formidable and imposing.

Was the sir lying?

Or was this the true manifestation of righteous energy?

In that instant, Jiaona’s mind resolved: recent events had shattered her once dull existence, especially the encounter with that monk in the street, which left her breathless. Without Chen Jianchen’s timely arrival, she would surely have fallen to that monk.

Demon hunting and exorcism are the sacred duties of monks and Taoists, as natural as cats chasing mice.

Before, Jiaona had believed her cultivation complete—condensing the Golden Core, transforming her soul, mastering boundless freedom. But today’s secret escapade revealed a vast world beyond her grasp, and in the presence of a true enlightened cultivator, she was weak and helpless.

No wonder her father forbade her from venturing out...

Only now did Jiaona finally understand her father’s wise concern and why he insisted she study.

Education enlightens reason and awakens wisdom!

She had always thought scholars useless, but that was a narrow view. Take this sir—his every action and manner was unlike common scholars, radiating a rare vigor and solemn grace.

Was that why he could condense righteous energy?

A thousand thoughts swirled in her mind, yet many mysteries remained. She dismissed them for now; after all, Chen Jianchen had saved her life today, proving no ill will. She would report everything to her father upon returning home and let him decide.

The carriage sped forward. Chen Jianchen had stepped outside, leaving Xiaojü to tend to the young lady.

Upon entering, Xiaojü saw Jiaona’s swollen, red eyes and, angered, asked, “Miss, did Master really hit you?” She glanced around for a ruler but found none, thinking perhaps Chen Jianchen struck with his hand—a grave offense!

Jiaona replied calmly, “Master did not hit me.”

Xiaojü was stunned. “Then why were you crying so loudly?”

Jiaona pouted. “Because I wanted to.”

Xiaojü could only laugh and cry at her mistress’s mercurial temper.

Outside, Chen Jianchen chatted leisurely with Ma Liu. During their talk, Ma Liu mentioned he had learned why Official Li had issued the proclamation—it was because a powerful Taoist had recently been invited into his household. This Taoist was no ordinary man but the Celestial Master of Mount Longhu, called “Master Zhang,” famed for summoning wind and rain, conjuring soldiers from beans, slaying demons with a single sword.

“What? Master Zhang?” Chen Jianchen was taken aback, instantly recalling a man of the same name in Jiangzhou, once hired by Wu Wencai to counter him. That man’s spells were broken, and he fled overnight, his whereabouts unknown. A wooden plaque depicting a yaksha demon from that scene still lay in Chen Jianchen’s study.

Was this Master Zhang connected to that one?

Such coincidence seemed unlikely...

Suddenly, a thunderous roar shattered the air, shaking earth and mountain alike, striking terror into all.

Chen Jianchen looked up sharply to see the once clear sky darken abruptly as oppressive clouds gathered, descending like a suffocating weight upon the world.

A winter thunderclap—an ominous anomaly, exceedingly rare!