Chapter 231: The Zither, Chess, Calligraphy, and Painting Are Finally Mastered

Chapter 231: The Art of Qin, Chess, Literature, and Painting Are All Complete

About half a cheong later, Chen Yì returned to the Xiao household.

As he dismounted from the carriage, he noticed that Wang Li and the others’ brows had relaxed, unlike their expressions in the morning and the previous day.

Chen Yì glanced around, sensing something, and merely smiled and nodded in greeting before heading straight toward the Spring Lotus Garden.

From behind him, a faint murmur reached his ears— Liu Si’er and Wang Li’s hushed conversation.

“The grain prices have risen again, one catty of millet now costs eight coins.”

“But the Duke has decided not to purchase grain anymore; he’s borrowing it instead.”

“Borrowing? From whom?”

“The Guangyue Prefecture.”

“Duke Qin?”

“Besides him, who else could it be?”

“A clever plan, then—borrow grain to tide us over for now, and repay Duke Qin once prices drop.”

“Still, this must wait until the Duke writes to Duke Qin to finalize things. It’ll probably take a few more days…”

Borrowing grain?

Chen Yì felt a thrill in his heart; the old duke had finally come up with a shrewd move.

Clearly, someone in Shouzhou was digging a pit for the Xiao family, and no matter how Chen Yì chose to respond, they’d face trouble.

Either they’d clash with the forces behind the grain trade, or find a way to raise funds.

But the old duke’s strategy was different—he’d turned to Guangyue Prefecture and Duke Qin.

Grain prices fluctuating in Shouzhou wouldn’t affect the Xiao family in the slightest, nor could they be controlled by others.

The brilliance lay in this: the old duke wasn’t buying grain; he was borrowing it.

He still held a vast sum of silver in his hands.

With this, the Xiao family could withstand attacks and defend themselves, sustaining longer than before.

As for whether Duke Qin would lend the grain…

Chen Yì pondered for a moment, a smile spreading across his face.

“Whether he lends it or not, it won’t be the worst outcome.”

True loyalty shines brightest in times of hardship, better than being stabbed in the back when facing dire straits.

Still.

If this information were kept secret, the effect would be even better.

Upon returning to the Spring Lotus Garden, Chen Yì looked around and found no one stirring. He pressed his ear to the door.

Inside the Purple Bamboo Grove, he heard Pei Wangluo practicing martial arts, her voice muttering, “I must protect my brother. Next time, I’ll definitely succeed, definitely…”

Chen Yì fell silent. That girl had gone and lost her mind.

Since the Mid-Autumn Festival incident, Pei Wangluo had been practicing martial arts with renewed vigor, and Chen Yì often caught glimpses of such mutterings. He understood that the fierce girl had truly been terrified since then.

His gaze then drifted toward the Xiaoxing Yard.

Faintly, he heard Xiao Wán’er’s laughter, “…Don’t forget to bring a rope, in case we need to measure.”

“Bring extra paper and pens, maybe a few more books.”

“And it might rain tomorrow, so pack two extra sets of clothes, okay… Little Butterfly, remember to prepare for Brother Xiao as well.”

“Also, this time Xunwu won’t be coming. Someone needs to stay behind to guard the mansion. Little Butterfly and Stop Yun, could you two remain?”

“Yes, Your Highness…”

Hearing this, Chen Yì hung his oil-paper umbrella beneath the eave to dry, his mind drifting:

Xiao Wán’er was indeed serious about the Medical Academy, and in choosing a location, she’d prepared so meticulously.

Compared to her, Chen Yì felt rather idle.

Looking at the freshly washed Spring Lotus Garden, Chen Yì smiled.

“Not that I’m without things to do.”

Now, he had mastered the arts of qin, chess, literature, and painting, missing only the art of painting.

It was time to complete that as well.

Thinking this, Chen Yì entered the study, spread a cypress paper sheet, blended his ink, and began to write and paint.

Indeed.

After mastering the teachings of the books, his pursuit of the painting path would also benefit him.

At the very least, his brushwork was refined, and with each stroke, the outlines of a painting began to emerge.

Yet brushwork was just the beginning; the art of painting required skill, technique, and suitable pigments.

Thus, in the end, he only completed the outline of a tree branch, resembling the gnarled remains of a graveyard.

Chen Yì stared at the painting, a slight grin tugging at his lips.

“It turns out I was trying to paint a pine and cypress tree.”

Fortunately, it was still a decent painting. After inscribing the title and his seal, two golden characters flickered before his eyes:

[Mastered the Art of Ink Painting, Rank: First Glimpse of the Threshold]

[Painting Path: Not Yet Entered 0/1 (Can Be Enhanced)]

Chen Yì glanced at the message and immediately expended 11 points of destiny to elevate his Painting Path to the realm of Small Accomplishment.

The mysteries of entering and achieving the Painting Path suddenly flooded his mind.

After a brief review, he unfurled a fresh cypress paper sheet. With practiced strokes, he mastered ink painting techniques while absorbing the esoteric principles of the Painting Path.

The Painting Path and the Literary Path shared many similarities.

Beyond the emphasis on negative space and atmosphere, the difference lay in the form of expression and brushwork.

Like Wei Qing’s bold, flat, and powerful style, or Yan Zhao’s naturally freehand cursive script.

Ink painting prioritizes meaning over form, yet freehand style is difficult to render with intricate detail.

Upon grasping this, Chen Yì’s mastery of ink painting techniques surged remarkably.

In just over an hour, his ink painting skills leapt from “First Glimpse of the Threshold” to “Proficient.”

Not that his skill level was particularly high, but at least he’d mastered various black and gray painting techniques.

Chen Yì looked at the thirteen sheets of cypress paper before him, each bearing a painting, and a hint of a smile crossed his lips.

“Now, my Literary Path is complete, my Chess Path is perfected, and both the Qin and Painting Paths have reached Small Accomplishment.”

Although there are high and low levels of cultivation, I have indeed achieved something in the four arts of qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

At that very moment, Xiao Di poked her head in, and upon seeing him, her face lit up with joy:

"Uncle, when did you return?"

Chen Yi came back to his senses, silently tucking the cloud pine paper on the desk away, especially the initial paintings, and replied, "It has been some time."

After placing the paintings into his sleeve, he waved his hand toward Xiao Di: "Come take a look at how I’ve painted these."

Xiao Di walked over, glancing curiously at the desk while smiling: "Your paintings, Uncle, are certainly quite good."

But when she saw those few paintings, her face showed some confusion.

"Uncle, all these paintings depict the same scene?"

Like a child who loves bright colors, she couldn’t tell the difference between the dark mountains and the gray river tones.

Chen Yi’s smile faltered, and he silently put away the paintings, leaving only the highest quality one, and threw the rest into the wastebasket.

"You’re right, they are all the same scene… There’s no need to keep so many."

Xiao Di didn’t notice his unease, and asked: "Uncle, did you start painting after Miss Hou Jinlu asked you to this morning?"

"Something like that."

Chen Yi shrugged it off, inviting her to help clear the table: "Has the garden at Xiaring been tidied up?"

"Yes, yes, the young mistress brought so many things this time, and even asked me to bring extra clothes for you."

Xiao Di’s face showed some disappointment: "But I can’t come with you this time."

"The young mistress ordered me to stay behind to look after Young Master Xiao."

Chen Yi had heard that. After finishing the cleanup, he smiled: "We’re not going there for leisure; we have business to attend to."

"When things are free, Uncle, I’ll take you on an autumn outing."

The scenery in autumn, though not as bright as spring or summer, is pleasant in weather.

Going farther, seeing more, naturally reveals a different charm.

Xiao Di lowered her head, unable to help but say: "Uncle, wherever you go, I’ll come along."

"For leisure, or for matters, either is fine."

Chen Yi, hearing this, gently tugged at her face: "I’m just worried you’ll exhaust yourself."

"Ah, Uncle, it hurts…"

After some lighthearted banter, Xiao Wo Ge returned, and Chen Yi told Xiao Di to prepare dinner.

At dinner, Xiao Wo Ge spoke excitedly about his martial arts experiences at the martial arts arena, his eyes bright with interest. Chen Yi merely nodded in agreement, saying little. In his view, Xiao Wo Ge would soon go to Nanjing, and having martial arts by his side would be of great benefit. Much better than letting him spend ten years as a mere commoner, locked inside a mansion with no door or gate to venture out.

Pei Jinlu, as usual, showed off her martial arts, patting her chest: "Tomorrow, I’ll teach you a formidable palm technique."

"Really?"

"Of course, ask your brother-in-law, is my palm technique strong or not?"

Seeing Chen Yi nod, Xiao Wo Ge immediately said: "Sister Jinlu, I want to learn!"

"Rest assured, it’s all in my hands. Who else would bring us along to play…"

Chen Yi was at a loss for words, letting out a hollow laugh.

Pei Jinlu had also intended to go to the Xiao family’s estate outside the city, but because she feared missing the message from the mountain people or their arrival, she had to stay at Chunhe Garden.

Another reason was that Chen Yi also feared the Black Poison Sect might come to Shu Zhou again, and he wanted to dispel Xiao Taotou’s suspicions. Fortunately, the authorities had Xiao Di and Xie Stopyun there, so Pei Jinlu teaching Xiao Wo Ge martial arts should not cause any trouble.

After dinner, the four of them rested.

As evening deepened, Xiao Wo Ge, Xiao Di, and Pei Jinlu were still not asleep, so Chen Yi changed into a black robe and quietly left Chunhe Garden.

He walked along the streets and alleys, reaching the east market in just a few minutes.

It was nearly nine o’clock, and with the rain having passed and the sky clear, the night sky was bright with moonlight and stars, and the streets were full of people.

Most were there to watch the entertainments in the east market. Groups of three or five crowded around the performers, occasionally shouting, "Good!"

Fortunately, there were many rough-and-tumble people in the market wearing coarse cloth clothes, so Chen Yi, dressed in black with a cloak and hood, didn’t stand out.

He looked at the bustling east market streets, then at the grain merchants nearby, his brow furrowed.

"If the manchi rebels caused chaos here, it might spark a larger upheaval, right?"

After some thought, Chen Yi decided to act opportunistically.

But after waiting nearly two minutes, he still saw no sign of the manchi rebels. Perplexed, he was about to leave when a cry rang out from the depths of the east market: "Manchi rebels, they’ve killed someone!"

"Come quickly, the manchi rebels have rebelled!"

"Damn it, these barbarians dare to set fire to the grain warehouse?"

Somewhere in the distance, he could still hear shouts and the sounds of fighting.

His eyes narrowed, scanning the area, seeing no one else had noticed. He moved silently toward the source.

He was wrong.

The manchi rebels’ rebellion wasn’t on the market floor, but in the warehouse where the grain was stored!

Passing through three alleys, he saw flames shooting into the sky, thick black smoke billowing.

In the darkness, he could make out several tall, strong figures, fighting over a dozen people in gray coarse cotton clothes.

Should he say something?

Those barbarians truly had their advantages.

Though their fists and feet lacked formal techniques, with their strong physiques, they could match cultivators three levels higher.

And they seemed unafraid of pain, letting knives and clubs strike them.

Not retreating a step, they charged fiercely in all directions.

Chen Yi looked at those barbarians, recognizing them as the ones he had seen in cages during the day.

Among the savage captives, one lean figure stood out, easily discerned.

Even amid such ferocious combat, several towering savage captives still shielded him.

In the gaps between their fierce struggle, those captives glanced back, shouting something to the lean one.

Upon witnessing this, Chen Yi slightly furrowed his brow, a flicker of doubt stirring within him.

"How did these savage captives manage to escape?"

"And why, after their escape, did they not quietly slip away, but instead make such a ruckus?"

At that moment, more and more people began to notice the commotion, hurrying toward the scene.

There were the magistrate’s guards overseeing the eastern market, alongside numerous skilled martial artists.

In such circumstances, the savage captives’ actions now seemed rather suspicious.

Just as Chen Yi pondered this, a sudden flute melody pierced the air.

The tune was strange and piercing, rapid as if a small boat were tossed violently through raging currents, ever on the brink of capsizing.

The moment the flute sounded, Chen Yi’s internal energy surged through his body.

Within his chest and across his meridian points, four divine guardians pulsed with spiritual light, sealing his ears against the sound.

"This must be… the sound-killing art of the Huan Yin Sect?"

Realizing this, Chen Yi stepped to the rooftop nearby, seeking the source of the melody.

Before he could locate the hidden assailant, he noticed the grain escort guards standing motionless, allowing the savage captives to slaughter them.

"Mind-control techniques?"

Seeing this, Chen Yi was certain the perpetrator was a dark sorcerer of the Huan Yin Sect.

No wonder those savage captives had escaped—someone had indeed been aiding them.

As he mused, he scanned his surroundings, his gaze often drifting eastward, toward the seldom-visited shadows beyond the eastern market.

Those freed savage captives, unimpeded now, fled in that direction.

Yet, as the magistrate’s guards arrived, one savage captive remained, stepping forward to meet them.

He shouted without turning: "Addosil, hook—!"

"That barbarian scum dares enter our Wei territory, unafraid?"

"Kill him!"

"Chase after him!"

Disregarding the chaos nearby, Chen Yi darted toward the savage captive.

Leaping and bounding, he seized a guard’s blade, melting into the shadows, trailing far behind the savage captive.

Soon, a figure swathed in black appeared ahead, his eyes cold and malicious.

"Sir, pray you not interfere in affairs beyond your station!"

Chen Yi halted, glancing at the fleeing savage captives, lowering his hood, and asked, "From the Huan Yin Sect?"

He cast a few lingering glances with his spirit-sensing technique, frowning inwardly.

"A seventh-level martial artist, only?"

"Sir, if you know my Huan Yin Sect name, then depart, lest I take you for an enemy!"

"An enemy?"

Chen Yi smiled, shaking his head, drawing his blade as he approached.

Though his steps seemed slow, he had already unleashed the Meteoric Butterfly Step, and before long stood before the cloaked figure.

A single stroke—its edge flashed cold.

A blade arc like a sword-sword cleaved downward, its chill spreading across ten zhang.

"Great Dao Sword Technique?!"

The black-clad man’s eyes widened in terror, hastily raising his flute to block.

Too late.

As the blade swept past, the flute split in two, and his arm was severed along with it.

"Ah—you!"

Before the man could act further, Chen Yi pressed his blade to his throat, silencing him utterly.

The man’s face flushed crimson, sweat pouring like rain.

"Y-Your Excellency, I—I..."

"Your servant hath no grudge against you, pray, pray you do not fault me for this..."

Chen Yi barely revealed his jaw, his voice soft as he inquired, "I am curious—why aid those savage captives?"

The man stammered, "M-Mr. Bian has sent me rewards... P-please forgive me, Your Excellency, I have naught to do with the barbarians!"

He assumed Chen Yi despised the savage tribes, pleading desperately.

Chen Yi raised an eyebrow, recalling the name.

"Blacktooth is dead, after all?"

"Forgive me, I received orders from the western provinces... N-No, not Shu province."

"Do you know how those savage captives escaped, and why they burned those grain supplies?"

"They—They were drugged by the mad, lewd bandits of Pox State, that is how they escaped."

"Afterward, they... Ah!"

Before he could finish, Chen Yi saw the man’s eyes burst open.

Not merely his eyes—blood gushed from his mouth, nose, and ears.

Yet in three breaths, the man was dead.

Chen Yi frowned, casting one last glance at him, then surveyed his surroundings.

Once certain all was still, he employed spirit-sensing upon the corpse.

Black mist coursed through his veins, especially around the heart and skull, coiling like ink, as though great holes had been drilled into those very points.

"Not poison, not insects—yet able to strike at a distance..."

"Could it be a death scroll from the Pox State?"

"Did someone cast a curse on him in advance?"

Chen Yi had long since heard that the martial arts techniques of the Pòshì Suōguó folk were rather strange, and he'd also heard whispers of curse-casting.

Didn't expect to encounter him here.

This made him recall that Pòshì Suōguó man who'd once manipulated his past life to flee from marriage.

Thinking this, Chen Yi's eyes went cold, and he instantly transformed into a black shadow, rushing after those savage slaves.

But even when he reached the East City Gate, he saw no sign of those savage slaves.

Not even their footprints or bloodstains remained.

It seemed as if someone had hidden them away in the briefest moment.

Chen Yi, undeterred, slowly retraced his steps.

He could be certain—the ones taken hadn't left the capital, otherwise he wouldn't have seen nothing.

Chen Yi thought, surveying the area: "Strange."

With their identities as those savage slaves, they'd naturally seek a way back to their tribe. With such a good opportunity, why didn't they leave? Why stay?

Not knowing, he didn't dwell on it, instead judging where those savage slaves might be hiding.

North is the edge of the pool, taking the water path is a good choice to leave Shu. South, east of the Smoke Flower Alley. That's where the mountain clans, Pòshì Suōguó, and outsiders live, mixed with all kinds of people, a good hiding spot.

Though obviously, Chen Yi favored the northern pool.

Just as he was searching, he heard a faint footstep behind him. Then a lazy voice came: "You, why not speak up, the one with the knife?"

"Slowly turn around, let me, Liu Da, take a look at who's the skilled knife-hand."

Chen Yi hesitated, Liu Lang? How did he get here?

(End of chapter.)