Chapter 1027: Zhuge Yuan Extra 2: Minglun Hall

Chapter 1027: Zhuge Yuan Side Story 2: The Hall of Bright Wheels

"Wang Changxu has been dead for a hundred years?" Upon hearing this news, Zhuge Yuan’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

He truly had not anticipated such a turn of events. It was clear that this Wang Changxu was indeed an old friend of his Master, but the Master had failed to account for the fact that his friend was merely a mortal, and a mortal’s lifespan was not as vast as the years themselves.

Turning back was out of the question; he had already boasted too grandly. If he returned now, where would he hide his face?

But with the man dead, what was to be done?

"Um, this senior," Zhuge Yuan raised both hands toward the elderly man with bound hair, clad in black and white robes, and immediately hit upon a strategy.

"Senior, what Zhuge Yuan says is the absolute truth. My Master is indeed an old friend of that venerable predecessor. If you do not believe me, might I ask if Senior Wang Changxu left any descendants? Perhaps you could inquire."

"My Master—my Master has a very peculiar appearance. If Senior Wang Changxu ever spoke of him, his descendants would surely remember."

Hearing Zhuge Yuan’s words, the old man stood his ground, offering no immediate reply, but instead continued to eye the youth before him with suspicion.

It was not until the sky began to darken that the man finally relented. "I trust you wouldn't dare cause trouble in the Hall of Bright Wheels. Follow me."

Zhuge Yuan felt a surge of joy; regardless of the circumstances, getting inside was the first step.

He had expected the main gate to swing open, but to his surprise, the old man headed toward a small side door. "What is your status? You think you can walk through the main gate of the Hall of Bright Wheels? This way."

"The rules of this Hall of Bright Wheels are truly excessive," Zhuge Yuan muttered to himself as he followed the old man toward the side entrance.

Once inside, the sky outside had grown dim, and the architecture at the threshold was shrouded in such gloom that Zhuge Yuan could not see clearly, sensing only that the structures ahead were layered in an endless, intricate maze.

Following the old man, Zhuge Yuan entered a corridor of blue-tiled eaves, heading deep into the complex.

As they walked, the surroundings began to brighten, the light source coming from square white lanterns hanging on either side of the corridor, each inscribed with poetry and prose in various calligraphic styles.

Some of the verses Zhuge Yuan had learned from his Master, but others were entirely new to him, and he found himself mesmerized as he gazed at them.

When he finally regained his senses, he found he had followed the old man to a refined two-story courtyard.

"Follow me, and do not look at what you should not, nor speak of what you should not," the old man said coldly before stepping over the threshold.

Passing through a small garden, Zhuge Yuan saw inside the main hall a handsome young man, holding a brush in one hand, grinding ink with another, and fanning himself with a third, all while writing something.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. His features were soft, his skin fair; had the man not been dressed in a scholar’s green robe, Zhuge Yuan would have mistaken him for a woman.

"Wait, three hands?" Zhuge Yuan felt a thrill of excitement.

Before he could enthusiastically step forward to strike up a conversation, the old man spoke again.

"Yuting, initiate the planchette. Sound out this boy’s true colors."

After addressing the youth, the old man turned to look at Zhuge Yuan. "If he has lied, he shall not think of leaving once he has stepped inside!"

The moment the words fell, the white square lanterns outside the hall extinguished one by one, from far to near, plunging the exterior into absolute darkness.

The sight made Zhuge Yuan nervous, and he instinctively reached behind him to his bamboo basket, gripping his defensive weapon.

"Master, you couldn't have set me up, could you? I only came to seek knowledge; why is the situation so dire?"

But the old man paid no heed to Zhuge Yuan’s thoughts. With a single strike of his hand against the table, a forked peach-wood branch from the brush pot was sent vibrating into the air.

Before the branch could fall, he and the youth named Yuting each grabbed one end, suspending it in mid-air above the desk.

The suspended branch suddenly slid, and the ink from the calligraphy on the paper beneath it was rapidly drawn out, seeping into the lower tip of the branch.

As it drank its fill of ink, the peach-wood branch began to sprout new buds, and as they grew, the ink inside the wood shifted from black to a ghastly green.

The light in the room flickered, the source seeming to split into several, and as another hand emerged from beneath the old man’s armpit, the room grew truly terrifying.

"Rise!" The two switched hands simultaneously, using the extra limbs to shake the peach-wood branch.

Soon, the branch seemed to escape their control, trembling as it fell onto a blank sheet of rice paper and began to write.

"The chickens and dogs here are also immortals, surely this is a Peach Blossom Spring apart from the world. The spring breeze feels intentional, green willows like paintings, like smoke."

The brush stopped, the lights flickered out, and as the writing finished, everything fell silent, save for Zhuge Yuan’s ragged, panicked breathing.

He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, only then realizing he was drenched in cold sweat.

"Two seniors, I truly did not lie. My Master is indeed an old friend of Wang Changxu. Even if he isn't, at most I have simply come to the wrong door," Zhuge Yuan pleaded, desperate to defend himself.

"Hmph." The old man seemed poised to retort, but was interrupted.

"Oh, oh, very well. Since the 'Reversed Immortal, Compliant Human' of Senior Wang Changxu says this person is fine, then he is likely fine. Uncle, come and observe the characters." The youth named Yuting spoke for the first time.

His voice was not as delicate as his appearance, but rather exceptionally hearty.

The old man and the youth huddled around the green characters, whispering, leaving Zhuge Yuan ignored on the sidelines.

"Did I really come to the wrong place? Is this what Master meant? Why does it feel so wrong?" Zhuge Yuan thought, looking at the lanterns outside that had somehow reignited.

"It must be right, surely? They both have three hands." When Zhuge Yuan looked again, however, the extra hands had vanished.

Muttering to himself, Zhuge Yuan paced the room, eyeing the strange stones on the bamboo shelf and the paintings on the wall. This was quite different from the grand ambitions he had held when he left his village.

"Yuting, keep an eye on this boy tonight. I am going to ask the Master to take a look." With a wave of his sleeve, the old man swept the four lines of green text off the paper and onto his cuff.

Ignoring Zhuge Yuan entirely, the old man walked coldly out of the room.

Zhuge Yuan opened his mouth to speak but stopped, turning instead to the youth named Yuting with a helpless bow. "Perhaps you could open the gate and let me out? I shall search again."

"Oh, no need, no need. Uncle Sigong is just like that." Compared to the old man’s attitude, the youth named Yuting seemed far more easygoing. "Stay here tonight, and we shall discuss it tomorrow. By the way, lad, what is your name?"

"My name is Zhuge Yuan. My Master gave it to me the day he found me."

"A pleasure, little brother Zhuge. I am Li Jinshu, courtesy name Yuting. Don't worry, Senior Wang Changxu was a great Confucian scholar; his reputation must be honored. Tomorrow you shall be enrolled, and from then on, you will be a disciple of the Hall of Bright Wheels."

As Zhuge Yuan engaged in a relaxed conversation with Li Jinshu, the trepidation in his heart slowly began to fade.

It seemed he had not come to the wrong place after all; the old man was simply exceptionally stern.

After chatting for a while, Zhuge Yuan, exhausted from his day of travel, asked Li Jinshu for his quarters and prepared to rest.

As Zhuge Yuan departed, Li Jinshu picked up his brush and began to write again.

At the doorway, Zhuge Yuan cast a curious glance back from afar: "Pink butterflies flutter their wings, trembling the flower calyx; dragonflies skim the water, sniffing the flower’s heart."

"Um..."