Chapter 63: Unusual Expectations

The Hall of Heavenly Secrets was comprised of a series of interconnected courtyards. If one could soar into the skies and gaze down through the layers of formation arrays, they would find that the very layout of its buildings concealed countless formation patterns within. Even without the superimposed arrays controlled by formation disks, the interplay of the architecture, gardens, flora, and landscape alone was enough to create formations within formations, barring entry to many. Even those who forced their way in would soon find themselves lost amid bewildering arrays, unable to reach the heart of the complex.

At the center of the compound lay the main hall, which housed the library, the control hub for the entire sect’s protective formation, and the residence of the Hall Master. Encircling the main hall were several training chambers—though ‘chambers’ was a misnomer, for each was in truth a small courtyard, each equipped with materials, venues, and books for disciples to practice and research formation arts. Beyond these, in the outer ring, were the abodes of the five disciples and their acting master, Yuehua the Spirit Cat.

Hanshu’s quarters were to the southeast, in the spot where spiritual energy was most concentrated. Beside her resided Yuehua, the Spirit Cat Xi Huan; on the other side was the eldest senior brother, Ling Dai, already at the Nascent Soul stage. Ling Mei’s abode was not especially close, but since Master had entrusted him with this important task, he was determined to fulfill it. So he had long since taken a shortcut through the eldest brother’s courtyard to wait for Hanshu to emerge.

Ling Mei led Hanshu to the training chamber in the ‘second ring,’ where the other senior brothers and sisters were already assembled. Passing through the many layers of arrays along the way, Hanshu followed closely behind, her eyes wide with wonder. Though she had inherited the legacies of several elders from a great formation sect, formations were far from static; they required innovation and evolution. The formation arts of today were not necessarily inferior to those of ten thousand years ago. Sometimes, even a beginner’s array could present a challenge to a master.

She had studied all manner of theory, but this was the first time she had witnessed the practical application—layer upon layer of defensive, concealing, illusory, trapping, and lethal arrays, each interwoven with the next, and the methods of breaking them were endlessly varied. Her mind raced as she watched Ling Mei unravel one array after another, matching what she saw to the knowledge in her mind. Many things she had memorized before now found their grounding, and her grasp of both deploying and breaking formations deepened.

Ling Mei worked swiftly; the one hundred and twenty-eight layered arrays, great and small, took him less than half an hour to dismantle. At last, he led Hanshu into the Hall of Transmission. This hall was the customary venue for lectures; every seventh day, Yuehua the Spirit Cat Xi Huan would teach formation arts here. At other times, the disciples would often gather to exchange insights.

The previous day, Hanshu had been brought here by Han Yangzi, so the other disciples—though reclusive by nature—were already aware of her arrival. Out of scholarly zeal, or perhaps simple curiosity, they had all gathered early that morning to test the mettle of this newcomer.

The Hall of Transmission was spacious, with large windows on either side. The walls between the windows were hung with calligraphic works and paintings, inscrutable to all but the most learned disciples. Apart from these, the hall was bare, furnished only with a number of meditation cushions, seven of which were already occupied. Although Ling Mei had already chided her for rising late, when Hanshu saw even the Hall Master waiting, she could not help the flush that crept up her cheeks.

After exchanging formal greetings, Hanshu and Ling Mei each found a cushion and sat. At last, Hanshu had the chance to observe those present. At the head sat the Hall Master, Han Yangzi, an old man with white hair and beard but the face of a child. Hanshu recognized him, though she had never before seen him seated cross-legged on a cushion. His usually neatly groomed beard now draped over his lap like a blanket, with its tip playfully brushing the floor, occasionally lifted by a passing breeze. Paired with his ethereal bearing, the scene struck Hanshu as oddly incongruous.

Seated beside him was Xi Huan, whom Hanshu had just formally met. She was Han Yangzi’s spirit beast, who had accompanied him since his Foundation Establishment days and had taken human form a century ago. As a Moonlight Spirit Cat, a breed famed for their prowess in formations, she’d been entrusted with instructing the disciples after assuming human shape.

Spirit beasts, upon taking human form, were often even more beautiful than most cultivators, and the Moonlight Spirit Cat, being of the feline race, was especially renowned for her beauty. Her figure was graceful and curvaceous, her skin luminous and delicate with a rosy glow. Her hair was a pale gold, her features striking and radiant, with an air of poise and depth. She wore a long purple robe embroidered with deep violet patterns along the wide hem, and her long, glossy hair was partly tied up, the rest cascading past her neck. A small, dark purple gem adorned her brow, perfectly accentuating her beauty.

Next was the eldest brother, Ling Dai, at the early Nascent Soul stage, who appeared the very picture of a reserved and refined gentleman. His hair was perfectly in place, gathered into a topknot with a jade hairpin. His robe was a matching shade of emerald, as was the meditation cushion upon which he sat. His back was ramrod straight, hands folded; if not for the occasional blink, he would have seemed a statue.

Beside Ling Mei sat the third senior sister, Ling Han, whose looks were plain, at best somewhat delicate, and whose simple attire sharply contrasted with Ling Mei’s. If the eldest brother was reticent, then this third sister was positively taciturn. Yet she wore a constant smile, her manner approachable.

The fourth brother, Ling Shu, had a cherubic face. Though older than Hanshu by several years, his cultivation lagged behind, only at the fifth level of Foundation Establishment. Cheerful and talkative, he was the very image of a lively youth—except that he seemed particularly fond of idioms, having used five or six just in greeting.

The youngest disciple, Ling Jiao, was only at the third level of Qi Refinement, having joined the Hall of Heavenly Secrets just last year. Though young and innocent in appearance, she had an eccentricity that surpassed even her seniors—what would now be called hyperactivity. Forced to sit on her cushion, her feet never stopped fidgeting or swaying or tapping or bouncing.

What a peculiar gathering this was...

As Hanshu observed the group, the others were studying her in turn. Though already a Golden Core cultivator, she seemed but a child. Seated beside the youngest, Ling Jiao, she looked their age—a slender figure with a round, rosy-cheeked face, crescent brows, and long, thick lashes like tiny fans fluttering over luminous, dark eyes as clear as a mountain brook. When she looked at you, your heart melted, and you could not help but want to protect her.

Of course, every eye sees beauty differently. Xi Huan, for instance, was thinking, “What an adorable little girl! What’s her name again? Han Rabbit or Han Deer? She really suits the name Little Peach, or perhaps Little Bun, Little Rabbit, or Little Pearl would be even better!”

Ling Dai’s thoughts ran thus: “She’s very cute, but why is there a hollow-carved red coral lotus hairpin on the left side of her hair and not on the right?!”

Ling Han, meanwhile, was intensely focused on Hanshu’s ears: “I really want to touch them—just once...”

Han Yangzi, well acquainted with his disciples, wasted no time lingering in silence and began the scholarly exchange straight away. The Hall of Heavenly Secrets specialized in three areas: the crafting of formation disks, the study of formation patterns, and the art of divining fate. Hanshu’s knowledge of puppetcraft, learned from the School of Construction, was by now a lost art.

Out of respect for her lineage, no one pressed Hanshu to lecture on puppetcraft; instead, the exchange focused on the other three arts, and the discussion lasted for over a month. Both sides felt greatly enriched by the experience, yet knowledge is a vast ocean—no matter how much is learned, it takes time to digest and master. And so, afterwards, each retreated to their own studies, busy verifying their new ideas one by one.

Though Hanshu found herself so at ease in the Hall of Heavenly Secrets that she almost forgot the world outside, she could not help but ask her father when she might bring Huaiyin back. After his tribulation, Huaiyin had been sent by the Dao Lord Lan He to the clan’s secret ground, where several old ancestors would help him temper himself. At first, Huaiyin, finding himself in a strange place surrounded by unfamiliar, high-level cultivators, thought he had been imprisoned. But when no one tried to forcibly contract him—though he was constantly ordered about, sometimes even beaten—he quickly realized, with his ten millennia of cultivation, that these people meant well.

Confused and bewildered at first, half a year passed before he gleaned from others that he was in Hanshu’s clan’s secret land. He guessed at the truth, his heart brimming with joy, torn between longing for news of Hanshu and the hope of achieving his own goals outside. So he endured for several years, until at last he heard Hanshu had recovered, and it was finally time to part ways with the old ancestors of the secret ground.

It was a cloudless day, the sky a flawless blue. After being tricked by three of the old ancestors, Huaiyin lay sprawled on the ground, limbs outstretched, refusing to rise. The forest’s edge rang with the calls of orioles; gulls and egrets wheeled gracefully in the distant sky. A gentle breeze carried faint, sweet scents—the beauty of the scene was something he had not truly appreciated for a long time. Ever since he was born, he had been confined to secret realms, and when he had finally broken free, he had found himself trapped in another unknown place. He knew it was for his own good, but he yearned—oh, how he yearned—to be free.

He had never yet traveled to the clan’s home realm, never learned news of his mother, still did not know the identity of his father... He fought to hold back tears, but his vision blurred with sparkling light. As he raised his sleeve to wipe his eyes, he realized it was not the shimmer of tears but a large, brilliant pearl.

Ancestor Jiang’s grinning face appeared in his view along with the pearl. “I hear you want to go to the Home Sea Realm. Here’s a high-grade Water-Repelling Pearl from us old fellows. The Home Sea Realm is anything but peaceful, so take care. Now get going.” Before he could say anything more, he felt himself kicked by some unseen force.

He passed through the secret ground’s illusory array in a flash, finding himself standing on a grassy plain. In front of him stood a young Daoist, face flushed red, stammering, “Lianji—Lianji is ordered to escort Ancestor Huaiyin back to the mountain.” Instantly, Huaiyin straightened, chin high, shooting the young Daoist a sidelong glance. With his proud, melodious voice, he declared, “Hmph.”

The young Daoist, evidently new to such tasks, had no idea whether the ancestor’s “hmph” was consent or not. Face turning even redder, he stood there awkwardly, torn between asking for clarification and worrying he’d offend this proud and aloof elder. Huaiyin waited for the youth to lead the way, but when nothing happened for a while, he was about to speak when—“Pfft!”—it was Hanshu! She laughed and scolded, “Why are you still acting so stiff? Come on, let’s go.”

Dazzling light seemed to fill his world. The girl in his heart—the girl he’d first fallen for, the girl who’d grown up a little, the girl who smiled as she looked at him—was suddenly right before his eyes. With a clear, crisp voice, she tossed a small boat onto the ground, enlarging it with a glance, signaling him to follow.

At last, had they met again? At last, could they leave together?

Author’s note: The little fox is back! Did you all miss him?! Quick, wave your glow sticks! I meant to update yesterday, but was just too out of it... so it’s up today instead. Hehe.