Chapter 163: Slow Down

Chapter 163: Slowing Down

Sisi was furious. Her perfectly good storytelling session had been rudely interrupted, just as she had reached the part where the disguise-wearing maid made her entrance, and now her Immortal Brother had been snatched away by someone else.

What irked her most was that she truly had no grounds to follow them, not even under the pretext of being Zhao Changhe’s maid.

The disguise she had used to pose as a maid of the Tang family had long been exposed. The real maid had already been rescued from the woodshed, having starved for two full days; had it not been for Zhao Changhe's reminder, she might well have starved to death. It was already a mercy that the Tang family hadn't troubled her for it, likely considering that she had been of some small help. How could they possibly allow a character of such dubious origins to linger nearby and eavesdrop on Tang Wanzhuang and Zhao Changhe as they "discussed official business"?

Fortunately, Zhao Changhe knew how to handle people. He hadn't simply left with Tang Wanzhuang right away, but had first taught Sisi the intent of the Spirit Fox Saber, giving her something to practice and keeping her occupied.

This saber intent was merely a superficial smattering, and as Sisi practiced, she truly couldn't comprehend how Zhao Changhe had managed to realize it. Yet, she had to admit it suited her perfectly. It was remarkably similar to her own path, serving as an excellent supplement and advancement to her martial arts.

Sisi suddenly wondered if Zhao Changhe’s stories were meant as an intentional admonition to her. Whether it was the Murong family or Jiu Mozhi, they all seemed to follow the trajectory of villains, and their pursuit of collecting the martial arts of a hundred schools appeared to be truly meaningless. Only what suited oneself was best; perhaps she should stop infiltrating places to steal skills in the future... That seemed to be the gist of it.

Sisi let out a sigh. It was different for her.

No matter how clever Zhao Changhe was, or how well he could analyze and solve cases, he had still misjudged a few things.

But could she ever explain it clearly to him?

As Sisi practiced, she subconsciously glanced through the doorway toward the head of the bed. The Blood-Malice Bead had been left lying there carelessly before, but it had just been taken away. She recalled Zhao Changhe's casual attitude from the previous night: "We found the treasure together. If you want it, take it; if not, I'll keep it. Where I come from, that's the basic rule."

Yet, that was only because the bead was not particularly suited to either of them, allowing for such casualness.

The Tomb of the Sword Emperor might not be the same. There were some things... that everyone would covet.

Even if he were willing to yield, the Demon Suppression Bureau would never allow it. This was no longer just a matter between the two of them.

……

Tang Wanzhuang’s waterside pavilion was similarly devoid of any other guests.

Only Baoqin stood vigilantly by, cradling her zither, her eyes darting around as she sized up Zhao Changhe. She focused intensely on his scar, then curled her lip.

No matter how she looked at it, Baoqin felt her young mistress and this man did not match in the slightest.

Granted, the man before her now did possess a somewhat more settled and profound aura than when they had met in Sword Lake City, having lost a bit of his unpolished bandit air—perhaps his journey of solving cases in Yangzhou and Gusu had made him more restrained—but the murderous aura about him remained thick and heavy with the scent of blood. The way he strode forward always gave the impression of a tiger lunging down from a mountain.

Yet her young mistress was like water itself, her light steps resembling a drifting cloud. As the two walked side by side, the picture they presented held an extreme contrast between motion and stillness. A ferocious tiger roaring while a mountain breeze blew gently; it carried a powerful sense of disharmony.

"Please, sit." Tang Wanzhuang gestured with her hand, and the two sat facing each other.

The dishes on the table were simple, even simpler than the feast Tang Buqi had hosted. Zhao Changhe, however, felt much more at ease here. Dispensing with formalities, he picked up his bowl and began to eat, asking, "What official business is there to discuss? The Tomb of the Sword Emperor?"

"That can wait until Young Master has properly recovered from your injuries. There is no rush," Tang Wanzhuang replied with a faint smile. "You are always rushing about, hurrying from one matter straight into the next. Do you truly never have the slightest desire to slow down and rest?"

"I do. Wasn't I just drinking tea and telling stories to the little maid? Then you invited me over to discuss 'official business.' You're the one who called it official business..."

"It is not necessarily true that one must go out and do something for it to be called official business," Tang Wanzhuang said. "For instance, that bead from yesterday—have you pondered over it?"

"Yes. The foul energy is chaotic, a jumble of all kinds of negative auras gathered together. It doesn't suit me. It seems more fitting for those of the demonic path who cultivate such negative emotions. But tell me, do you have a way to filter out these chaotic impurities and isolate the malice and blood-wrath alone?"

"Indeed, this is the official business," Tang Wanzhuang said. "Yesterday, I couldn't think of a solution, but after pondering it through the night, I find there are indeed ways."

Zhao Changhe silently noted that since the blind woman had deemed her 'not weak,' she most likely possessed a solution. As expected. To be called 'not weak' by the blind woman was truly impressive; at the very least, her understanding of martial arts must surpass Maitreya's level. The reason they fought to a draw was likely due to her lingering illness. He wondered if she would reach the level of the Heavenly Ranking once cured.

In a humble tone, he asked for guidance: "My primary purpose in coming to Gusu was indeed to find an object to nourish my malice. My Blood-Malice Art requires such things to advance quickly. Since Maitreya practically handed this over, it was indeed disappointing to find it unusable. What does the Chief Chief have in mind?"

Tang Wanzhuang asked, "Do you remember what I once told you? That if you were willing to learn zither or painting, it would benefit you?"

Zhao Changhe: "Uh..."

"In battle, you are wild and fierce, commanding the momentum of a ferocious tiger. This serves you well in combat, but it hinders your cultivation. At present, your progress seems to carry all before it, with no one in the world advancing faster than you. Yet, in truth, your foundation is unstable and flawed. And yet, you remain eager to continue nourishing your malice, pressing forward... Forgive Wanzhuang for speaking bluntly, but if you continue like this, you will sooner or later be stuck at the threshold of the eighth or ninth realm in agonizing stagnation, for you sorely lack tempering and accumulation—an accumulation that lies not only in your cultivation techniques, but also manifests in your martial arts skills."

Zhao Changhe remained silent for a moment, then sighed. "In truth, I know deep down that I've been too hasty and lack tempering. But many things before were pushing me forward, coming one after another, leaving me no time to settle down in peace."

Tang Wanzhuang picked up a small bowl of lotus seed soup, sipping it leisurely. "During that time in Sword Lake City, you could have actually stayed longer to cultivate. Han Wubing is your good friend; you should have honed your skills together and spurred each other on. Why did you leave in such a hurry?"

Zhao Changhe fell blank for a moment, scratching his head.

He had entirely forgotten why he had left so quickly back then. It felt as though since Han Wubing had departed, he ought to depart as well...

Or perhaps, to put it plainly, he had been avoiding Tang Wanzhuang, not wishing to meet her too often?

Oh, right, it seemed he had just obtained the gold foil and didn't want to linger in such a complicated place.

He had already forgotten his thoughts at the time; in short, he had fled in haste, as if something were snapping at his heels.

Perhaps it could simply be said that his mind had been impetuous, unable to stay in one place.

Tang Wanzhuang said softly, "If Wanzhuang had not spoken up this time, would you have rushed off again the moment you finished exploring the Tomb of the Sword Emperor?"

Zhao Changhe could only say, "I've forgotten what I was thinking. Besides, isn't it usually you giving me tasks to perform out there?"

Shifting the blame like this... Tang Wanzhuang burst into a soft laugh. "Are you truly so obedient to my commands? Then I shall give you a task this time. Regardless of the outcome at the Tomb of the Sword Emperor, you are to remain here for another ten days. How about it?"

Zhao Changhe asked in surprise, "Stay here to do what? To get better acquainted with you? What are you thinking? Shouldn't you and I be severing our ties cleanly?"

Tang Wanzhuang sighed with a hint of helplessness. "How can private reputation compare to the importance of public matters... No matter how Young Master views it, in Wanzhuang's eyes, you are a public matter."

Zhao Changhe fell silent for a moment, then sighed. "So, why are you keeping me here?"

"To learn the zither, calligraphy, painting, and poetry from me." Tang Wanzhuang offered a gentle smile. "Perhaps you have no need to learn poetry and calligraphy; Young Master speaks with natural eloquence, and your stories are crafted so well that even Wanzhuang wishes to continue listening... It is a pity for someone with such an abundance of learning to present himself to the world as a mere brute."

Zhao Changhe felt utterly helpless. "What on earth do you want me to learn those things for? Even if I were truly a prince, there's no rule saying I must learn them. Mastering them is useless anyway. Has history never told you about Zhao Ji and Li Yu?"

Tang Wanzhuang replied in all seriousness, "Your spirit needs to slow down, and these things can help you do so. To concentrate the mind, quiet the spirit, cultivate character, and erase impetuousness—it is nothing more than that."

Zhao Changhe truly had no desire to learn, so he could only ask, "You said you had an idea for the bead, and this is it?"

"This is one of the methods. Why can those negative emotions like hatred, malice, and resentment affect your temperament or thoughts? It is because your heart is fundamentally unquiet. I wish to teach you the intent of the Tang family. Though the winds blow from all directions, and the spring waters flow on and on, it is nothing more than a passing ripple. When that time comes, your heart will be guarded, your mind clear as water, reflecting like the moon, and no inner demons shall ever arise again."

Zhao Changhe’s eyes widened. "I only stole a single shred of your sword intent, and your nephew has already thrown a tantrum at me several times. Are you truly going to teach me the core intent of the Tang family? When the time comes and he starts shouting 'uncle, uncle,' the one who furiously beats someone up might be your own—"

Tang Wanzhuang cut him off directly: "What about you? Are you willing to learn?"

Zhao Changhe scratched his head. "Do I need to acknowledge you as my master?"

Tang Wanzhuang lowered her head, her slender hand holding a small spoon, stirring it gently through the lotus seed soup. Only after a long while did she speak: "If you are willing, that would be for the best."

It was a summer afternoon, sweltering and devoid of wind. Even the surrounding waterside pavilion felt stiflingly hot, offering no trace of coolness.

Yet, as she lowered her head and gently stirred with her pale hand, it was as though the cool essence of the lotus seeds in the bowl was seeping outward. Suddenly, the summer afternoon was filled with the crisp, refreshing coolness of a blooming water lotus.

And the heart grew still.