Chapter 882: Mature Alternate Accounts Will Train Themselves

Chapter 882: A Mature Alt Account Practices on Its Own

“Going back?” Outside Gusu City, Tang Buqi escorted them all the way to the dock, watching Zhao Changhe board the ship. “They say you can shift through space, appearing anywhere at will. If you want to return to the capital, you could just go directly. Why take a boat?”

The boats belonged to the Demon-Suppression Office fleet—several large vessels packed with a dark mass of captured demonic cultists being transported back to the capital for trial. Cui Yuanyang and Ling Ruoyu were both on board.

It was normal for the Demon-Suppression Office to escort prisoners by boat, but Zhao Changhe, Sanniang, and Huangfu Qing hitching a ride left Tang Buqi puzzled. You could excuse the earlier pretense of playing the fool while escorting your disciple south by boat, but now that your identity was exposed, why would you still need to travel by water?

Zhao Changhe stole a glance at Sanniang and Huangfu Qing, who were drinking together at the bow, and cleared his throat. “Thirty years felt like a single dream. Now I realize that everything should be experienced slowly and leisurely. Why rush?”

He had only meant to use this pretentious remark to cover up the awkwardness of possibly being dragged onto the boat to pay his “marital dues,” but Tang Buqi took it to heart. He sighed softly, gazing at the river without a word, as if accepting Zhao Changhe’s lofty explanation.

Tang Buqi had once been a dashing young noble of a corrupt world. Now, with graying temples, he still cut a handsome, dignified figure. His sigh over the river was quite poetic—worthy of a painting.

The Tang family had good genes… but such a demeanor on Tang Buqi felt somewhat incongruous.

Zhao Changhe glanced at him and suddenly said, “Those who cultivate well can generally maintain eternal youth. You could achieve it too. When you saw me, didn’t you think of asking me to help you realize that? Actually, you don’t even need me—just ask your aunt, and she’ll have Chichi give you a hand.”

Tang Buqi smiled. “A deathless Marquis of Wu—what kind of family would that breed? It defies heavenly principle and violates human morality. Thirty years of imperial examinations have barely shaved down the roots of the great clans. My aunt won’t personally forge an even more terrifying aristocracy.”

“You never asked her.”

“Her restrictions on the Tang family over the years speak for themselves. Why put her in a difficult position? If I forced her to refuse, it would leave a bitter taste for everyone. If I truly seek immortality, I should cultivate on my own, not rely on others—whether my aunt or you.”

“…” Zhao Changhe had words on the tip of his tongue but choked them back.

Tang Buqi’s words today were tantamount to calmly facing his own eventual death. Zhao Changhe recalled how Tang Buqi, once afraid of death and unwilling to venture into the martial world, had wept bitterly over his wine—it felt like yesterday.

Tang Buqi smiled freely. “I, Tang Buqi, have ruled the southeast in my lifetime, reaching the pinnacle of a subject’s honor. I quelled the Maitreya Rebellion, opened the prosperity of maritime trade, governed the nation and brought prosperity to Jiangnan, and at home, I have children and grandchildren aplenty. My name was struck from the Chaos List, but it will endure in the annals of history. The great waves wash away the sand; a gentleman is not a vessel. The nine heavens are high and distant—why vainly seek them?”

With that, he clasped his hands in a bow. “Farewell here.”

Zhao Changhe turned and boarded the ship, returning the bow with clasped hands.

The great ship sailed northward as the two parted with salutes.

Huangfu Qing sipped her wine, gazing into the distance at Tang Buqi, who was growing smaller on the shore. She suddenly spoke, “My father has also passed away. Did you know?”

Zhao Changhe remained silent for a moment, not answering.

Huangfu Yongxian had already been a general in his sixties back then. A lifetime on the battlefield had left him with countless hidden injuries. His cultivation could advance no further, and his lifespan could not be extended—this had long been anticipated.

But no matter how much one anticipated it, waking up one day to find an old friend gone was still a shock.

“Still, my father was enfeoffed as a marquis in life and mourned with full honors in death. As Tang Buqi said, he reached the pinnacle of a subject’s honor—no regrets. Now Yanmen is commanded by Shaozong. Do you think that means the great clans have not truly vanished?”

Zhao Changhe finally said, “Shaozong has spent years on the battlefield and earned that position. It’s not right to avoid him just because his surname is Huangfu. If Chichi is concerned, she can reassign his garrison.”

Huangfu Qing nodded, sipping her wine in silence. Her beautiful eyes gazed at the river, lost in thought.

Having been out of the world for so long, the affairs of men now felt somewhat detached to them all. Even speaking of her own father and brother felt like talking about someone else’s family—no real difference.

Time was the most terrifying thing; it could wash away so much.

Zhao Changhe said, “Speaking of which, is there still a need to guard Yanmen now? Wasn’t there some sect trying to steal the Longque to offer to the Northern Desert? Has the grassland stirred again?”

“Batu fears us. Once he believes we no longer meddle in human affairs, his ambition will naturally stir. It’s no surprise—different races, different hearts,” said Sanniang, who had once been in charge of border affairs, more familiar with the matter. “But Batu is old now. Chichi sent people to stir up trouble and sow discord, causing his descendants to fight for succession. It’s a mess for now, so no big waves yet. As for stealing the blade to offer to the Northern Desert, I think it’s just a desperate bid for a ‘letter of introduction’ by those being hunted hard by the Demon-Suppression Office.”

Just then, Cui Yuanyang stepped across the waves from another ship. Before she even arrived, her cheerful voice rang out: “The Demon-Suppression Office dare not take all the credit. It’s the unified and harmonious environment of the realm that keeps them from causing trouble. Back in the chaotic days, even if the Demon-Suppression Office chief coughed up blood, it wouldn’t have done much good.”

Zhao Changhe turned to look at her, a hint of surprise in his eyes, as if seeing her for the first time.

Leaving aside the friends who had aged from youth to old age, the woman beside him who had changed the most this time was Yuanyang. That little act of pretending to be young even after growing up was completely gone. From the moment she appeared, she had been tirelessly busy with official duties, serving the state with a dedication that was the spitting image of Wan Zhuang back in the day.

Back when he first suggested Yuanyang join the Demon-Suppression Office, he never imagined she would turn out like this. Could it be that the role of Demon-Suppression Office chief carried a legacy of public service?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cui Yuanyang’s first words upon boarding shattered the image. She plopped down directly on Zhao Changhe’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Strange—you’ve all been arguing so seriously. This lap is so comfortable, why isn’t anyone sitting on it?”

Piaomiao rolled her eyes. Sanniang and Huangfu Qing drank their wine in speechless exasperation.

Why was it that the younger ones around him were always the most casual, while the older ones, trying to maintain some dignity, always ended up swallowing their pride?

Cui Yuanyang opened her mouth. “I want some wine.”

Zhao Changhe raised his cup to her lips and laughed. “I thought you’d really changed your ways… Come, come, a reward for your hard work and great merit.”

Cui Yuanyang lowered her head, drank, and grinned. “When you’re in a position, you do your duty. I have to finish my work before I can come running to meet my lover in secret… Besides, with so many women around Brother Zhao—old and young—even if I finish my work and come back later, you’d still be busy here. There’s plenty of time…”

Zhao Changhe coughed. Indeed, he wasn’t done yet. “So you’ve finished your work? That fast?”

Cui Yuanyang giggled. “I dumped it all on Ruoyu. I told Chichi long ago that the next Demon-Suppression Office chief would be Ruoyu…”

Zhao Changhe laughed. “I think you just want to shirk your duties.”

Cui Yuanyang said matter-of-factly, “You just figured that out? After all these years, who doesn’t want to retire? I’ve been scouting for a successor for ages. Just because I look young doesn’t mean you can squeeze me dry—I’m already an old lady, boohoo.”

“So you bully Ruoyu instead?”

“How is that bullying?” Cui Yuanyang huffed. “So you mean that when you put me in this job back then, you were bullying me?”

“Wasn’t that because you wanted to do it yourself back then?”

“How do you know Ruoyu doesn’t want to do it?”

“Because she has other things to do…” Zhao Changhe sighed. “If she were just Ruoyu, she might be suitable. But she’s also Xinghe. Find someone else.”

Cui Yuanyang pouted, apparently considering other candidates. After a long moment, she said, “You were talking about border affairs just now? You should ask me about that. These aunties have long been reclusive masters, out of touch with the world…”

Sanniang: “…”

Huangfu Qing: “…”

That feeling from earlier was right—next time she saw a young one beside him, she’d throw them into the river first.

But Cui Yuanyang’s words couldn’t be refuted. The two venerable ones had indeed withdrawn from the world for years, barely concerning themselves with mortal affairs. The only one who could debate worldly matters with Cui Yuanyang was Piaomiao, and Piaomiao wouldn’t undermine her.

Cui Yuanyang swept her gaze over the deflated Four Symbols group, smug and satisfied. “Actually, over the years, the court has been building cities and relocating people beyond the border. The southern grasslands are increasingly sinicized, and the situation is different from before. The battles to be fought now are more about politics, culture, and economics. His… Chichi is very cunning in these matters. She’s done things that the late emperor couldn’t have accomplished in eight lifetimes.”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

As a transmigrator, being outdone by his native daughter in this kind of warfare was truly shameful. Oh, he was also a transmigrator—never mind, then.

Cui Yuanyang said, “But a hard fight might still come eventually… just not in the next few years. Of course, if Brother Zhao clearly re-enters the world, it will never happen.”

Zhao Changhe sipped his wine, lost in thought.

Huangfu Qing finally spoke. “We cannot establish eternal laws. Human affairs will ultimately be left to future generations—unless you want to guard the rivers and mountains forever. Do you… want that?”

“If even Buqi can be so free and easy, why should I be troubled?” Zhao Changhe gazed absently at the river. “The greatest impression this revival has left me is the vicissitudes of time—both in people and in events. Is this why the ancient gods, watching over the ages, never stir with emotion?”

Piaomiao, who had been silent all along, finally spoke. “Yes. When you witness the rise and fall of countless nations, the extinction of countless civilizations, the reincarnation of eras, and the changing of worlds… it’s a different experience from your mere three years of cultivation. Do you feel any change in your own cultivation now?”

Zhao Changhe nodded. “Mm… I couldn’t find what lay beyond the third level of the Imperial Realm before. Now, though I haven’t even reached the third level, I already have a faint sense of it.”

When it came to cultivation, the ever-talkative Cui Yuanyang fell silent, while the older women’s eyes lit up. Sanniang asked curiously, “We’ve all had this insight, but we can’t see the door to the next step. How do you have it?”

“Because besides time, there is also space. The reason Ye Wuming brought me here is that my perspective is not limited to this world—and that is also the foundation for being able to harm the original Heavenly Dao.” Zhao Changhe said, “If everyone wants to ascend further, I think we need to leave this world and look out at the broader sea of stars. I said long ago that we need to forget the Four Symbols… This is especially important for you. If you remain trapped in the framework of Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise, you will never break out.”

Huangfu Qing said excitedly, “How do we get out?”

Zhao Changhe’s divine sense fell on another ship. Ling Ruoyu was interrogating a demonic cultist, the Star River sword on her back, full of youthful energy.

“Not sure yet… but if there is a way, it can only be through Ruoyu.”

What had been imagined as a journey of being dragged along to pay marital dues turned into a northward voyage filled with leisurely conversation. The atmosphere was not as tense as expected. Even when night fell and they entered the cabin to rest, they naturally shared the same bed, talking with their feet touching.

Thirty years of separation—there was simply too much to say.

Only the next morning, when Ling Ruoyu came bouncing over to pay her respects to her master’s husband, did she see one man and four women emerging from the cabin at the same time. She stood there, utterly dumbfounded.

"Good morning, Master, Grandmaster... Good morning, First Seat..."

Zhao Changhe bared his teeth in a grin: "Ruoyu..."

"Ah?" Ling Ruoyu cautiously stepped back half a pace.

"Morning practice is a law of our sect, you know that, right... And since your grandmaster happens to be free, let's see a sword form."

Ling Ruoyu felt this fellow wasn't really teaching a disciple—he was just bullying a child.

"Then... then I ask Grandmaster for guidance. This new technique Master just taught me, I haven't quite grasped it."

"Shua shua shua," sword light flashed at the bow of the boat, and a gaggle of old women from the Yu San Sect curiously watched while nibbling melon seeds.

So she was actually practicing...

Look at that strict discipline—truly worthy of being taught by Yue Hongling. Her fundamentals were solid; she'd probably been punished plenty.

Ling Ruoyu finished her routine, her little face flushed, and humbly sought guidance: "Please instruct me, Grandmaster."

Zhao Changhe thought Ling Ruoyu was far more amusing than Xinghe had been as a child. Look at her—clearly embarrassed, yet still obediently dancing with her sword for her grandmaster, then earnestly asking for pointers. How entertaining...

"I didn't see it clearly. Do it again."

"Grandmaster, you..." Ling Ruoyu's face turned crimson as she stamped her foot. "With your ability, how could you not have seen clearly!"

"If you do it again and it's completely different, then I'll have seen it clearly."

Ling Ruoyu paused, lost in thought.

Yue Hongling's newly created sword technique was, of course, not a fixed pattern but an intent. Her grandmaster was hinting that if she danced the same thing every time, she'd misunderstood.

The girl understood and danced again. This time, the moves were entirely different from before, but the intent was the same.

"Ruoyu has gained some insight..." Slightly sweaty from practice, the girl bowed with both excitement and reverence: "Thank you, Grandmaster."

Zhao Changhe turned happily to his wives and remarked: "Look how smart she is—she can even teach herself."

The women rolled their eyes, grabbed Zhao Changhe, and tossed him straight into the Grand Canal.

They'd seen bullies, but never one who bullied his own child.

Not that it wasn't allowed, but if he bullied her too much, what if she started missing her mother...

The journey north was just this simple and unadorned. The family amused themselves by watching the little disciple practice swordplay, or sending her off to run errands on other boats. Then the new Night Emperor would take the two Four Symbols Venerables into the cabin to discuss doctrine, or the King of Zhao would take the God of State and the First Seat of the Demon Suppression Bureau to discuss the rivers and mountains. Three days of harmonious travel passed, and they arrived at the capital.

Ling Ruoyu, carrying Xinghe on her back, looked up at the towering city gate, a trace of nostalgia in her eyes.

This was her second visit to the capital.

The last time she'd come, she'd done something just like what her master's father and grandmaster had done back in the day—she'd shown off drinking at a tavern and challenged the young heroes of the capital. That battle of hers had been far harder than Zhao Changhe's original one. Back then, the capital was in the twilight of a dynasty, mostly useless dandies, nothing like the thriving gathering of talents today. Now, so many young experts had converged on the capital for study—it was a true convergence of dragons and tigers. Her title as the top of the Hidden Dragon Ranking had been earned right then.

Thinking back now, whether that top spot was watered down by the Book Mother or not, many things she'd done had been subconscious imitations of the legendary King of Zhao, just as Xinghe had subconsciously sought traces of her master.

Though the deeds were bold and exhilarating, the consequences were rather severe... When Zhao Changhe had done something similar back then, he'd fled in panic the next day, unable to withstand the retaliation. Ling Ruoyu was the same—she'd shown off and then slipped away in disgrace, never having properly explored the capital even though she'd come.

This time entering the city, she might run into enemies...

Sure enough, before she even passed the gate, someone pointed a blade at her: "Ling Ruoyu?"

Ling Ruoyu turned her head: "And you are?"

*My enemies are all young Hidden Dragons. You've got a beard, old man—who are you? Some father coming to settle scores?*

*Well, I have a father too.*

Sure enough, the man said coldly: "Huang Youde, ranked twentieth on the Human Ranking. Two months ago, the Huang Zhang you defeated at Songfeng Tower was my son. I never expected that in just two months, you'd made it onto the Human Ranking. How about I ask you for a lesson or two?"

Ling Ruoyu instinctively turned to look for her father, only to see Zhao Changhe hiding in the crowd nearby, blinking, with no intention of standing up for her. The aunties were nowhere to be seen—Cui Yuanyang had long since taken the prisoners ashore to work, and the others had vanished somewhere.

Suppressing the urge to complain about her father, Ling Ruoyu's eyes darted around, and she put on a simple, honest smile: "Do you know who my father is?"

Zhao Changhe: "?"

Huang Youde paused: "I do not."

Most people in the world didn't even know that Ling Ruoyu's master was Yue Hongling. If they did, ninety percent of those who dared to cause trouble would vanish, leaving no room for training.

"Good, then." Ling Ruoyu bared her teeth in a grin, very much like Zhao Changhe's when he bullied her. "Two months ago, it was just a trial of the Hidden Dragon. Today, since we meet by chance, how about this..."

Huang Youde said sternly: "How about what?"

Ling Ruoyu drew her sword and pointed it at the plaque above the city gate: "I say the Human Ranking of the capital is nothing but a name. Anyone who disagrees, come and fight."

"Pfft..." Zhao Changhe nearly choked on his own saliva.

All the people preparing to enter the city stood dumbfounded. Little girl, do you know how many official figures are on the capital's Human Ranking? Not to mention anything else, are you trying to get yourself swarmed by the Demon Suppression Bureau?

The air fell silent for a moment, then exploded into uproar: "Such arrogance, little girl! Do you really think the capital has no one?"

"Quick, send word inside the city!"

"No need to send word—that voice probably half the capital heard already. Rank eighteen on the Human Ranking indeed, that inner strength is no joke."

"Here they come, many experts are heading this way."

"That girl really doesn't value her life! How many people is she going to offend? Is her father the King of Zhao, to be so bold!"

"First Seat Cui of the Demon Suppression Bureau is coming... Will First Seat Cui take sides?"

"Hard to say, but since the Demon Suppression Bureau is involved, they probably won't let it become a mob. They might mediate fairly?"

Amid the chaos, a distant cry came: "His Majesty arrives!"

Well, even the emperor had been stirred. There was no need for the Demon Suppression Bureau to mediate now.

Ling Ruoyu looked up. Atop the city gate, Xia Chichi, dressed in a white robe, was rubbing her belly, looking down at her.

Her gaze was unreadable, and the gesture of rubbing her belly even more so.