Chapter 54: This Venerable One Squabbles Over Pastries

"Shizun?" Xue Meng's expression immediately became more

respectful. "Out of everybody on Sisheng Peak, he's the only one who

doesn't have any nicknames. No one would dare

joke about him."

"Bullshit, that's only because everyone knows that you like Shizun, so

they just hold their tongues around you." Mo Ran rolled his eyes and pulled

Chu Wanning over as he stage-whispered. "Don't listen to him, I'll tell you:

out of everybody on Sisheng Peak, the Yuheng Elder has more nicknames than

anyone."

"Oh? Really?" Chu Wanning lifted his eyebrows slightly, intrigued.

"For example?"

"For example, one of the more courteous ones would be Bai

Wuchang."7

"Why do they call him that?"

"Because day in and day out, he only ever wears white."

"What else is there?"

"Little napa cabbage."

"Why?"

"Because day in and day out, he only ever wears white."

"What else?"

"Big mantou."

"Why?"

"Because day in and day out, he only ever wears white."

"What else is there?"

"Little widow."8

Chu Wanning stared in incredulity.

"Do you know why they call him that?" Mo Ran asked, perfectly

oblivious to the flicker of murderous intent in Chu Wanning's eyes. He only

continued to laugh stupidly. "Because day in and day out, he only ever wears

white."

If it weren't for his self-control, Chu Wanning probably wouldn't have

been able to maintain his composure. "Well? What else is there?"

"Aiyo." Mo Ran glanced at Xue Meng's expression and said in a low

voice, "If I say any more, I'm afraid that my cousin here might pour the entire

hotpot over my head."

Xue Meng slapped the table, gnashing his teeth. "That's ridiculous!

Who allowed them to make fun of Shizun like that? What do you mean 'little

napa cabbage' and 'big mantou'—not to mention 'little widow'? Are they

sick of being alive?!"

"Ah," Mo Ran replied, barely able to contain his laughter. "Mad

already? You haven't even heard what the female disciples call him yet. It'll

give you goosebumps."

Xue Meng's eyes widened. "What do they call him?"

"Well, what else?" Mo Ran drawled lazily. "They're girls, after all.

Everything out of their mouths is flowery. It's all, 'pear blossom bathed in

pale moonlight,' this, 'untrodden snow of early spring,' that, or else it's, 'Sir

Chu of Lin'an, purest of all lotus blossoms,' and stuff likening him to the

legendary beauty Xi Shi—my god."

Chu Wanning had no words.

Xue Meng had even fewer.

"Those nicknames are still fine. In comparison, look at the Tanlang

Elder. He gets way worse, what with his terrible temper and mediocre

looks."

Out of all the twenty elders on Sisheng Peak, the Tanlang Elder was

the one with whom Chu Wanning had the worst relationship. So he asked,

"What do they call him?"

"Something like 'wintertime pickles' or 'mustard greens'—because

his skin is dark." Mo Ran laughed. "Mengmeng, don't make that face at me.

You have your fair share of nicknames too."

Xue Meng looked like he'd just swallowed a whole egg. "What? Me

too?"

"Of course," Mo Ran said, grinning.

Xue Meng cleared his throat, feigning a casual attitude. "Well, what do

they call me?"

"Fanny."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Isn't it obvious?" Mo Ran couldn't even

make it three words in before his shoulders started to shake with laughter,

until he eventually burst out cackling, slapping the table. "You're like a

peacock fanning its tail feathers everywhere, ha ha ha ha ha—"

Xue Meng bound to his feet, howling in anger, "Mo Ran! I'm gonna

kill you!"

By the time the three of them had eaten and drunk their fill and made

their way back to Sisheng Peak, it was past midnight. Chu Wanning allowed

himself to be escorted by these two dumb disciples to the quarters of the

Xuanji Elder, where they parted ways. Before leaving, Xue Meng asked if

they could meet again tomorrow at the bamboo forest, but Chu Wanning, not

knowing when he might return to his original form, thought it best not to

commit and only said that he'd come by if he had free time.

Chu Wanning waited until the two disciples had gone far enough away,

and only then did he use his qinggong to fly up lightly, stepping along the

edges of rooftiles to make his way back toward the Red Lotus Pavilion.

Early the next morning, Chu Wanning woke to find himself still stuck in

a child's body and couldn't help but feel slightly dispirited.

Pulling a face, he stepped onto a wooden stool and glared at the

person in the mirror for a long while, unable to bring himself to do so much

as properly comb his hair. After some consideration, he concluded that this

really couldn't go on any longer, and so he set off to find Xue Zhengyong.

"What? You saw Meng-er and Ran-er yesterday?"

"Yes. I said that I was the Xuanji Elder's disciple, and they didn't

seem to doubt it," Chu Wanning said. "If Xue Meng comes asking you about

me, remember to cover for me. More importantly, I've been cultivating for

more than ten days, and nothing has really changed. This isn't working. I'll

have to ask Tanlang to take a look after all."

"Oho, what happened to our Yuheng and his thin face, being too

embarrassed to ask for help?"

Chu Wanning shot him a cold glance. However, when such a look came

from a young child, it wasn't the least bit imposing. Rather, it looked like the

child was pitching a fit.

Chu Wanning was quite adorable as a kid, and Xue Zhengyong couldn't

resist reaching out to pat his head.

"Sect Leader," Chu Wanning said suddenly, "when my body returns to

normal, could you ask Silk-Rinse Hall to tailor a new set of Sisheng Peak

robes for me? Not white."

Xue Zhengyong was entirely taken by surprise. "I thought you didn't

like wearing light armor."

"Just changing my wardrobe up a little," Chu Wanning said with a dark

expression as he walked away.

Although the Tanlang Elder wasn't on good terms with Chu Wanning,

he had to hold himself back a little bit in the presence of their sect leader.

However, though his words remained civil, his derision was evident from his

gaze.

Chu Wanning raised his eyes, expressionlessly watching the Tanlang

Elder. Tanlang's eyes were shining with glee, almost like fireworks were

going off within them. Chu Wanning continued to stare expressionlessly.

The Tanlang Elder let go of Chu Wanning's wrist after taking his pulse.

"Madam Wang's diagnosis was more or less correct."

Chu Wanning yanked his hand away and tugged his sleeve down.

"Then why has there been no change even after ten days?"

"You might not have absorbed much sap from the ancient willow, but it

was potent. I'm afraid that it might be quite a long time before you return to

your original form."

"How long will it take?" Chu Wanning asked casually.

"Not sure, but probably about ten years."

Chu Wanning's eyes instantly widened.

The Tanlang Elder tried his best to keep a straight face, but his own

eyes were brimming with glee at Chu Wanning's misfortune. "Yes, it's

probably going to take another ten years before you reclaim your original

form."

Chu Wanning stared at him for a while, then said darkly, "Are you

kidding me?"

"Perish the thought. You are the Yuheng Elder, after all." Tanlang

smiled. "Anyway, if you ask me, there's nothing really wrong with you. This

is good, even. Your body may be smaller and your mental age slightly more

immature—and only slightly, mind you—but your cultivation is intact. Why

the rush to return to normal?"

Chu Wanning, ashen faced, was left unable to reply.

"However, there's no guarantee that you'll stay in this child's form for

the entirety of these ten years. This variety of tree sap migrates along the

same paths as your spiritual energy. If you were to refrain from using any

spiritual techniques for three to five months, you would likely be able to

recover your original form."

"That works too!" Xue Zhengyong's eyes lit with hope.

But Tanlang continued with a faint smile. "Hold up, Sect Leader. I'm

not done explaining yet. Even if the Yuheng Elder returned to his adult form

thusly, he would be unable to use too many techniques, because once his

spiritual energy was depleted from overuse, the willow sap would again

exert its influence and he would turn back into a child."

"Overuse? How much would count as too much?" Xue Zhengyong

exclaimed.

"About that—since the sap has already spread throughout his entire

body, at most, he'd only be able to use two techniques per day."

Chu Wanning spoke in a voice that was as cold and hard as steel, "The

barrier to the ghost realm constantly develops breaches in need of repair, and

forging automatons also requires spiritual energy. If I could only use two

techniques a day, I'd be as good as useless."

"Well, that's all I've got." Tanlang's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"After all, if the mortal realm were to lose the Beidou Immortal, the sun

might fail to rise on the morrow."

On the side, Xue Zhengyong fretted. "Tanlang, quit the sneering

already. Your medical techniques are among the foremost in the cultivation

world—please think of something. Even if Yuheng's cultivation hasn't been

affected, he's still in a child's body, so his abilities simply aren't what they

were. Not to mention, if the other sects hear that Yuheng was injured at

Jincheng Lake, they might think to try something funny. Ten years is way too

long. Could you look for some medicines or something? Some that could

maybe—"

The Tanlang Elder sneered and interrupted him mid-sentence: "Sect

Leader, the sap that infected the Beidou Immortal is from an ancient tree

spirit, not some common poison. Do you really think that I could just come up

with a cure on the spot?"

Xue Zhengyong was stunned silent.

"That's enough for now. I have to go extract medicine for pills,"

Tanlang said languidly. "Why don't you two see yourselves out?"

"Tanlang!"

Xue Zhengyong wanted to say more, but Chu Wanning tugged on the

hem of his robes. "Sect Leader, let's go."

When they reached the door, Tanlang's voice suddenly carried to them

from behind. "Chu Wanning, if you're willing to beg me properly and humbly,

then who knows? I might be willing to help derive a cure. Although I've

never seen someone with your condition, I might not necessarily be unable to

assist. So why don't you think about it carefully?"

After a long moment, Chu Wanning looked backward. "What would

count as 'properly and humbly'?"

Tanlang reclined on the couch, lazily sorting out the bundles of silver

needles on the table. He raised his eyes at the sound of Chu Wanning's voice,

disdain apparent in his gaze. "When other people are at the end of their rope,

they get on their knees to prostrate themselves to beg for help. We're

colleagues, so I won't ask you to get down and knock your head on the floor,

but if you kneel and grovel a little, I'll consider it."

Chu Wanning said nothing as he gazed indifferently at him. Only after a

while did he say: "Wintertime pickles, you must be dreaming."

With that, Chu Wanning flicked his sleeves and left. The Tanlang Elder

was left stunned, unable to figure out what "wintertime pickles" meant even

after half a day of pondering.

The days trickled by slowly. The Yuheng Elder declared that he was

going into seclusion to meditate, when he was in actuality trapped in the body

of a child, unable to return to his original form. Xue Zhengyong, Madam

Wang, and the Tanlang Elder had found out about it one after another, and, to

prevent the secret's exposure, the Xuanji Elder was also informed.

A few months passed in the blink of an eye. The Red Lotus Pavilion's

doors had been closed to visitors for quite a while, and Xue Meng and his

fellow disciples worried despite themselves.

"Shizun has been in seclusion for more than seventy days now. Why

hasn't he come out yet?"

"Maybe he's refining his cultivation level." Shi Mei took a sip of

spiritual mountain dew from his cup and looked up at the dark, overcast skies

outside the window. "Looks like it's going to snow. Soon it'll be the New

Year. I wonder if Shizun will come out before then."

Mo Ran was flipping lazily through a manual of sword techniques.

"Doubt it," he said in response to Shi Mei. "Didn't he send us a message

with his haitang flower a couple days ago to say that it would be a while yet?

I doubt he'll be out in time."

It was a day of rest on Sisheng Peak, when the disciples didn't need to

practice cultivation. Mo Ran, Xue Meng, and Shi Mei had gathered to enjoy

some freshly brewed tea and warmed wine. The bamboo curtains of the

small pavilion in the yard were half-drawn, the heavy screens concealing its

occupants, and steam wafted lightly from beneath the fringe.

There had been a new addition to their little group of late—the Xuanji

Elder's disciple, Xia Sini. Ever since that day he met Xue Meng, Xue Meng

had dragged the kid along to cultivate or play every couple of days, and

before long, the group had become inseparable. Thus the Yuheng Elder's

group of three disciples mysteriously became a group of four.

At this moment, Chu Wanning-as-Xia Sini was seated at the table

eating pastries. He ate in a refined manner, but the speed at which he

consumed them wasn't the least bit lacking.

Xue Meng glanced at him inadvertently and paused in surprise, doing a

double take between the plate and Xia Sini. "Wow, Xiao-shidi," he said in

amazement, "who'd you inherit that bottomless stomach from?"

Chu Wanning was chewing leisurely on a piece of osmanthus cake. The

cake was delicious, and he didn't bother responding to Xue Meng. After all,

he was fighting with somebody over the food.

Mo Ran and Chu Wanning's hands landed on the last piece of crispy

lotus pastry at the same time. Their eyes shot up, and it seemed as if lightning

crackled between their gazes.

"Let go," said Chu Wanning.

"Nope," Mo Ran replied.

"Hands off."

"You've already eaten eight pieces. This one's mine."

"You can have any of the others, just not the lotus pastry."

Mo Ran glared at the little fellow for a while before pulling out his

trump card. "Shidi, if you eat too many sweets, you'll get cavities."

"That's fine." Chu Wanning was very calm. "I'm six, so it wouldn't be

embarrassing."

Mo Ran was struck speechless.

There was a loud smack as Xue Meng's strike landed alongside his

scathing complaints. "Mo Weiyu, how annoying can you get? Fighting with

Shidi for food? How old are you?!"

The moment Mo Ran covered his head with an "aiyo!", Chu Wanning

snatched the lotus pastry, his hands quick and face expressionless. He felt

quite satisfied as he took a small bite.

"Shidi—!"

Chu Wanning ignored him, totally devoted to nibbling on his sweets.

The four disciples were busily making a ruckus when a sharp whistle

pierced the skies and reverberated throughout Sisheng Peak.

Chu Wanning's expression grew solemn. "The gathering whistle?"

Xue Meng lifted the hanging curtains halfway up to look outside the

window. The disciples who had been walking outside stopped in their tracks

to look around with expressions of surprise.

At the sound of the gathering whistle, everyone on Sisheng Peak had to

gather in the square before Loyalty Hall. As one might guess, this meant that

the whistle was only blown in times of emergency. Before Chu Wanning had

joined the sect, this whistle had sounded often—whenever the ghost realm

barrier was breached. However, since Chu Wanning's arrival, the whistle

hadn't been heard in a long, long time.

Shi Mei put down the book in his hand and got up to walk to Xue

Meng's side. "How strange. What could be so urgent?"

"Don't know. No point wondering, let's go take a look first."

Only Mo Ran was silent. He pressed his lips together and his lashes

fluttered downward, covering the unnatural flicker flashing through his eyes.

He knew what this whistle foretold. However, the timing slightly differed

from his memory of the event. He hadn't thought that it would happen so

soon…

The four disciples assembled at Sisheng Peak, where the rest of the

disciples arrived one after another. Before long, the entirety of Loyalty

Square was filled with the sect's elders and their disciples.

Once everyone had gathered, Xue Zhengyong walked out from the

tightly shut doors of Loyalty Hall to stand before the jade-banded platform

railing, above flights of limestone steps. Six beautiful women followed

behind him. Some looked charming while others seemed cold, but all were

impossibly gorgeous. They stood against the wind wearing only thin silk

robes despite the bitterly frigid weather. At a glance, their red skirts were

like unto the clouds at dawn, and their eyes seemed lit with scarlet flames

amidst the delicate fluttering of silken ribbons. Finally, a red dot in the shape

of a flame lay between each of their eyebrows.

Xue Meng was stunned, and it wasn't only him. The expressions of just

about every person in the square changed once they laid eyes on the six

women.

Xue Meng stared blankly for a long time before he managed to speak,

his voice trembling. "Envoys of the feathered tribe… Did—did they come

from Zhuque, the land of immortals?"