Chapter 88:
Teaching a Disciple

 

DU YUN’S MUSIC was indeed extraordinary. The notes of his lute reverberated within the Huang residence and, in an instant, even the birds flying overhead seemed to stop and listen. The lively Huang residence suddenly quieted down as all noise of conversation vanished. Only the scant notes of the lute remained, drifting about the rafters.

Yuwen Song had grown up living a luxurious life, which had left its mark. Combined with his outstanding gifts, his appreciation for music went far beyond that of others his age. At this time, he was fully immersed in the music with his entire being, all the way until the performance finished and Shen Qiao sat down by his side. Only then did he return to himself.

“You’re back?” Yuwen Song noticed that Shen Qiao’s expression was a bit off, and he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong? Did your esteemed self see something?”

Shen Qiao frowned slightly. “I met an old acquaintance, but it seems that he’s completely forgotten me.”

“A friend?” asked Yuwen Song.

Shen Qiao smiled. “Rather than a friend, he’s more like a foe.”

“Did your esteemed self fight him?”

“No,” said Shen Qiao. “He’s insolent and arrogant by nature, and he usually does as he wishes. He can switch between good and evil without a second thought. At first he saved me, but then he threw me into the hands of an enemy.”

“Ah,” said Yuwen Song. “Then, have you sought revenge on him yet?”

Shen Qiao shook his head. “Afterward, out of happenstance, he and I again spent some time in each other’s company. Once, he ran into a common enemy, and he sealed my acupoints before hiding me in a safe place, then went to meet the danger himself, luring away the enemy who presented the greatest threat to us.”

Yuwen Song was perplexed. “He doesn’t sound too evil, then? So why would he ignore you now?”

He was still young, after all. Regardless of how mature his speech was, there was a limit to his experiences, and so his words carried a slight hint of childishness.

Shen Qiao thought this amusing and patted his head. “I don’t know either. Perhaps some things are better left unknown.”

After these last couple of exchanges, a good amount of his confusion and disappointment had faded as well.

Yuwen Song took the initiative to ask, “Shall we leave, Daoist Master?”

Originally, Shen Qiao had thought that since the Huang residence was a prosperous household and the image of luxury, Yuwen Song would have been nostalgic for this kind of environment, being from the royal family himself. He didn’t expect that the child had truly only come for the music, without any other thoughts.

“The banquet has already begun, and we’ve presented our gift, so no one can say we came empty-handed,” Shen Qiao said. “The delicacies and wine here might not compare to what’s in the palace, but it should be many times better than what’s at the inn. Don’t you want to eat before leaving?”

Yuwen Song shook his head. “There are too many guests here. An oversensitive person might grow suspicious. I was already indulging myself by coming here to listen—you’ve indulged me so much, and I can’t keep recklessly taking advantage of it.”

As he said this, he once again seemed to stop being an ordinary child. Shen Qiao knew that the deaths of the entire Qi residence had been a heavy blow to him. Ever since they left the capital, Yuwen Song had remained vigilant and wary, his every word and action exceedingly careful. He avoided talking to strangers as much as possible. Coming to listen to this performance could already be considered one of his most “excessive” requests for the entire journey.

Shen Qiao recalled the chance encounter just now. Guang Lingsan probably hadn’t shown up just for Shen Qiao, but he knew that Shen Qiao was here now. If he wished to investigate further, it’d be easy for him to discover Yuwen Song.

Guang Lingsan ranked as one of the world’s top ten martial artists. His martial prowess itself wasn’t particularly outstanding among the top ten—rather, it was his identity as the leader of Fajing Sect that earned him a seat. But Shen Qiao knew that he absolutely couldn’t underestimate any member of the demonic sects. Demonic practitioners were demonic practitioners precisely because they never showed their full selves to outsiders. They’d use layer upon layer of crafty tactics, unpredictable and inscrutable. Regardless of one’s martial skill, it was easy to fall into their trap the moment one became careless.

Though Yuwen Song was of little use to Guang Lingsan, who knew if the man would do something on a passing caprice? On top of that, there was Yan Wushi…

Shen Qiao nodded. “Very well. Let us go then. It’s still early—we should still be able to order something when we get back to the inn.”

They’d come to the birthday banquet, but they’d failed to manage a meal and had only gotten to hear music. It was simply too strange in the eyes of others. The concierge was shocked at their swift return.

However, Shen Qiao had no intention of explaining any details to him. The two ordered some food to eat in their room: three side dishes and one soup. Compared to what Yuwen Song had once eaten, it was really too humble, and the taste naturally couldn’t compare to the dishes of the royal chefs. But Yuwen Song understood very well the situation he was in—he hadn’t so much as uttered half a complaint the entire journey. Seeing this, Shen Qiao was of course even more pleased, and even began to contemplate accepting him as a disciple.

Thinking of how Yuwen Song had just suffered through a huge change, and how his emotions were probably still immersed in the grief of losing his loved ones, Shen Qiao was in no rush to propose this to him. He was prepared to wait until Yuwen Song completely emerged from the shadows within his heart.

“Is there something on your mind, Daoist Master Shen?” Yuwen Song suddenly asked.

Shen Qiao said nothing about accepting disciples. “It’s nothing,” he said instead. “I was only thinking about the old acquaintance I met this afternoon.”

“Is he important to you?” asked Yuwen Song.

“Why do you ask?”

“If he isn’t, why do you keep thinking of him?”

Shen Qiao gave a light cough. “I’m not always thinking of him.”

Yuwen Song didn’t say anything, but the words “you clearly are” were written all over his face.

Shen Qiao suddenly felt like bringing up this topic had been most unwise. Even if he tried to argue and lay out his reasoning, it’d be pointless.

He was about to change the subject when Yuwen Song spoke in a consoling tone, “In truth, I think that this acquaintance of yours also considers you important.”

Shen Qiao was caught between laughing and crying. He really wanted to say, “Let’s not talk about this any further,” but it was rare for Yuwen Song to earnestly discuss something with him, so he didn’t want to smother his mood. He played along and asked, “Why do you think so?”

“My sixth elder brother—Liuxiong—and I were close in age,” said Yuwen Song. “We did everything together, whether it was studying, eating, or sleeping. But since he was older, he would always mess with me. Once, he even told me that there was a tree with phoenix eggs and tricked me into climbing it. I couldn’t get down, and he stood beneath it and laughed at me.”

Shen Qiao thought this amusing. “How old were you then? With how bright you are, I can’t imagine you getting tricked.”

Yuwen Song’s fair and tender face tinted a soft red. It was unclear if it was due to vexation or embarrassment. “I wouldn’t have fallen for a normal trick, of course. But to make sure I believed him, he had someone create a resplendent model phoenix, then in the middle of the night, he made it fly past my room several times and land on the tree. He told me that a phoenix had come to our house to lay eggs. If it’d been only once or twice, I wouldn’t have cared, but after it happened so many times, how could I not be fooled? If it were you, Daoist Master Shen, surely you’d want to investigate too, wouldn’t you?”

Shen Qiao held back his laughter. “Yes, of course!”

“Afterward, I tattled on him to Father. But Father said Liuxiong acted like that because he loved me, and that those he didn’t like wouldn’t even get a second glance. I think, perhaps, your old acquaintance is the same, isn’t he?”

Shen Qiao gave a wry smile. Coming from Yuwen Song, the unpredictable and inscrutable nature of human hearts became little more than a child’s playtime.

“And you said he placed himself in danger for your sake,” Yuwen Song added. “That proves that he cares about you even more, just like Liuxiong and me. Though he often bullied me, that day, he said to Mother that I was the youngest and so I had to leave first in order to preserve the Yuwen bloodline.”

If it had been Shiwu instead, he would have definitely teared up at this point. But Yuwen Song’s voice only grew a little heavier as his expression strained, and a solemn cast fell over his face.

He said quietly, “Right now, I wish so much that I could return to the past. It’d be fine if he messes with me every day. I only wish this was a dream, that the moment I wake up, they’d all return to life.”

Shen Qiao was silent for a moment. He knew that Yuwen Song’s mental maturity was far beyond the average child, so the normal words of comfort would do little for him.

“Do you know what the Three Talents are?” he asked.

“Heaven, Earth, and Man,” said Yuwen Song.

“The Dao of Heaven: Yin and Yang. The Dao of Earth: Strength and Gentleness. Do you know what comes after?”

Yuwen Song nodded. “The Dao of Man: Benevolence and Righteousness.”

“Correct,” said Shen Qiao. “I didn’t want to bring up the past, at first, in case it would arouse your grief. But since I’ve already mentioned it, I might as well prattle on a bit more. Daoists cultivate tranquility, but they also value karma and reciprocation—it’s not unique to only Buddhism. Yuwen Yun’s perverse actions caused your entire family to suffer unjust deaths. If you wish to seek revenge, not only will I not persuade you against it, I’ll also teach you martial arts. However, I do not wish for this to consume your heart. Humans are humans because they possess wisdom—that’s what differentiates them from beasts. No matter how good-natured a tiger or lion might be, the moment they’re hungry, they must eat, and so they must kill. But when a human grows hungry, they can endure that hunger, and they know how to use various methods to keep themselves clothed and fed. This is the basis on which Man can rank among the Three Talents. Do you understand?”

Yuwen Song truly possessed comprehension beyond the ordinary. After a moment of silence, he nodded. “I understand. The Daoist Master hopes that I can throw away the burdens of the past to become someone great and indomitable. No matter how much I hate Yuwen Yun, I cannot become like him.”

Shen Qiao was pleased. “Exactly. You truly are incredible. As expected of the most promising son of the Yuwen family!”

A rare bashfulness surfaced on Yuwen Song’s face. “Then, may I learn martial arts from you?”

Shen Qiao laughed. “Of course you can. My sect accepts disciples based on two things: first, their moral character, and second, their aptitude. Even if their aptitude doesn’t stand out, being honest and upright is enough. Furthermore, your aptitude is exceptional, and your physical qualities excellent—perfect for practicing martial arts.”

Yuwen Song was delighted. He rose to his feet, wanting to acknowledge Shen Qiao as his master, but Shen Qiao stopped him. “No need to rush,” he said. “We can hold an official ceremony once I bring you back to Bixia Sect. It won’t be too late then, and it’ll have more gravitas as well.”

Of course, Yuwen Song had no objections. This one conversation with Shen Qiao had resolved many of the troubles plaguing his heart. That night, he slept soundly, sinking into dreams the moment his head hit the pillow.

Instead, it was Shen Qiao who couldn’t stop his fluctuating emotions when he recalled those words. Even after meditating for a long time, he failed to completely enter the state of being one with the world.

By now, the wee hours of the night had already arrived. The bustling clamor of daytime had completely vanished, and the only sound was the ringing of the watchman’s gong from beyond the window.

Now that he could neither sleep nor meditate, he didn’t open his eyes either, but instead kept them closed, calming his mind and opening his senses. He keenly felt as if his entire surroundings were melding into each breath he took.

Then he suddenly opened his eyes and rose, drifting toward the window. He moved swiftly, with nary a whisper. Even if Yuwen Song had been lying awake instead of fast asleep, he wouldn’t have realized that the man beside him was already gone without personally seeing him leave.

At this time, the windows were only half-open—leaving through them would be quite difficult. But Shen Qiao was like a ghost: one instant he was stretching his torso outside the window, and the next his figure was already sliding along the inn’s outer walls as he flitted onto the roof.

Sure enough, on the roof, right above and across from their room, stood a man.

He was dressed entirely in black, and he wore a veiled hat, concealing his face from view.