Chapter 292: A Familiar Scent! (Seeking Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 292: A Familiar Taste! (Seeking Monthly Votes)

What is the Way of Chess?

Each person holds a different understanding.

It may be a pastime for the idle, a battlefield of contention, a contemplation of life's truths, or an exploration of the cosmos' mysteries.

Yet in this moment, Chen Yi saw the world as a chessboard, all living beings as pieces.

As the player, each move he made could alter the fate of men.

Especially here in Shu Province.

Like a small world unto itself.

Countless souls became mere pieces, rivers and mountains marked boundaries, the flow of qi dictated by his will.

Thus, the Way of Chess, in some measure, traces back to the ancient art of divination.

But while divination follows the Mandate of Heaven, each sip and bite preordained.

The Chess Way, however, hinges entirely on the player's desires.

"This is... 'Heaven and Earth do not regard all things as straw dogs,' after all."

Chen Yi slowly opened his eyes, letting the primordial chaos of his mind settle into quiet contemplation.

He hadn't anticipated the Way's revelations arriving so suddenly.

He'd thought it a mere trifle, yet it had propelled his understanding of the Chess Way to a new plane.

He gazed toward where Ma Liang and others stood, his sight settling on the still-puzzled face of Yuan Liu.

[System Prompt: At the stroke of 3 PM, observe Yuan Liu's sacrifice of his father, accepting the karmic consequences, aiding Yuan Liu.]

[System Reward: "The Eight Methods of Weaving," Karma +11.]

[System Evaluation: Human, voice, scene—excellent performance.]

Chen Yi glanced at the message, bowing his head in silent thanks.

Not long after, the crowd dispersed. Liu Quan led Yuan Liu to bury his father.

Ma Liang returned alone, bowing. "Master, the arrangements are complete."

"The moment Liu's dealt with his father's affairs, he'll come to the pharmacy."

Chen Yi nodded, watching the cart move away at its own pace.

"Teach her well," he said, then patted Ma Liang's shoulder before departing.

Beneath the gathering clouds, the rain intensified.

On the dimly lit street of Chao East, figures moved like ink-wash paintings, their silhouettes still beneath straw raincoats.

Only an amber oil umbrella drifted through them, growing fainter with each step.

Ma Liang gazed long enough, then turned back to the pharmacy.

He sensed something unusual in Chen Yi's demeanor but dared not inquire about Yuan Liu's martial arts prowess.

Perhaps it was fate's design between master and disciple.

When the clamor of the eastern market faded, the din of haggling and laughter followed.

Guo Shen, pressed into a queue outside the Xinglin Pavilion, watched Chen Yi disappear into the distance, his usually indifferent expression creased with bewilderment.

This "nestling bird" had acted so contrary to his past apathy.

How kind of him to extend a hand to a young man with a yellow ribbon!

A flicker of mockery crossed Guo Shen's lips—"Is this the compassion of a noble house?"

After a pause, he lowered himself and walked toward Hou's residence.

But upon turning into Nan Street, Chen Yi's figure was nowhere to be seen.

He glanced toward the western market and Flower Street, finding no trace.

His brow furrowed.

Lost?

For a veteran of the Qinglong Army or a stalwart of the White Tiger Guard, losing a single person was not uncommon.

Yet for some martial artists, unfamiliar terrain could lead to such mishaps.

And a scholar versed only in basic fistwork—how could he evade such tracking?

Guo Shen frowned, then turned sharply toward Xiao's mansion.

On the way, he encountered several acquaintances, greeting them with a curt nod.

He ignored their calls, his limp stride unhurried.

Yet as he neared his residence's street, a sibilant laugh echoed:

"Guo Shen?"

He turned, spotting the speaker—two blood-red eyes gleaming.

"Y-you..."

Before he could finish, his body stiffened.

His murky, venomous eyes shifted hues—black to red, then red to black.

"To be chosen by me is your fortune."

"Guo Shen," he muttered, his gait strange, and entered Hou's courtyard.

No one noticed his oddity; many soldiers even greeted him warmly.

This made his earlier smile all the more strained.

But when he reached the courtyard, his eyes flashed crimson, fixing on the Spring Lotus Garden.

"There... the scent of familiarity..."

Guo Shen paused, his smile fading into shock, then dawning realization.

"Hah! Haha! It's you! This is your hideout?"

He couldn't believe it, yet couldn't doubt his own nose.

That intense fragrance—he knew it well.

It was the unmistakable scent of Liu Wu's "Dragon Spear" technique!

Guo Shen listened intently, confirming no one was inside.

No hesitation—he strode forward.

In the tranquil courtyard, fallen leaves and petals drifted through the air.

The lush green trees encircled two wooden buildings, with a pavilion standing by the pond.

A faint scent of lotus blossoms lingered on the bluestone path.

The fragrance of grass and trees mingled within.

From one of the wooden structures, wisps of thick plum blossom fragrance seeped outward.

Master Gui’s smile deepened. "Dear Uncle, I see you’re here."

He walked toward the wooden building, murmuring softly, "Liu Hong was right—Longqiang Liu’s true identity is indeed the Xiao family’s."

"He resides with the Xiao clan."

"No wonder the Xiao family suffered no losses after the fire that razed the summer provisions of three towns. It must have been the handiwork of Xiao Yuan, that old patriarch."

"But who is the master of this courtyard?"

"Let me take a look—let me see…"

Master Gui pushed open the wooden building’s door, glanced at the elegant and refined interior, then proceeded toward the study where the plum scent was strongest.

As he stepped inside, he noticed a calligraphy scroll hanging behind the desk.

"Drinking Alone Under the Moon: When Will the Bright Moon Arise, Pouring a Cup… Thousands of Miles Sharing the Enchanting Moonlight—Chen Yi, Chen Qinzhou."

A celestial vision floated above the study, a figure standing proudly amidst the clouds.

Perhaps sensing an intruder, he lifted his gaze, eyes half-lidded, to regard the newcomer.

Master Gui stood frozen, staring at the calligraphy, then at the ethereal figure above, his mouth opening and closing:

"Chen Yi, Chen Qinzhou… Liu Five…"

…

West Market, Bai Caotang.

After leaving Ji Shi Medicinal Hall, Chen Yi made his way directly here.

To conceal his identity, he deliberately adopted the pseudonym "Chen Yu" and summoned Wang Ji.

"Have your people prepare everything. Once the signal comes from the Da Bao faction, we’ll head straight to the Lin family’s grain depot."

Since Lin Zhenghong had preemptively sought out Cui Qingwu, this time he would take his place.

Wang Ji bowed respectfully.

But after some thought, he whispered softly, "My lord, the time is pressing; the Da Bao faction may not have prepared sufficiently."

"Never mind."

"I only need a spark—how far it burns is of little consequence."

Chen Yi stood with hands clasped by his side, leaning against the window of the quiet chamber, watching the rain-soaked sky through the woven reed curtain. He spoke in a low voice: "It is not my concern."

"The more greedy they are, the fiercer the fire will burn—leaving them with not even a speck of ashes."

He had indeed intended to wait a few more days, letting the Ji Zhou merchants bask in their wealth, counting silver and dreaming of fine feasts.

But after the Yuan Liu’er incident, he could no longer wait.

Or rather, the people of Shu Zhou city could no longer wait. Tomorrow, another Liu would come—Zhang Liu, Sun Liu.

He could afford to let the poor go hungry for a few days to eradicate the pest from Ji Zhou’s merchant guild.

But he could not—would not—stand by and watch them perish.

Morality, once compromised, loses its strength.

To rise further, it’s not as hard as ascending to the heavens—it’s that people would find it absurd.

Especially those who suffered the Wuling Disaster.

They’d even laugh heartily on their journey to the underworld.

Chen Yi did not wish to live with regret.

After roughly an hour, he saw flashes of fire lighting up the skies to the west and south. He turned and left the quiet chamber.

Wang Ji, too, could not hesitate, quickly descending the stairs to whisper to a guard from Tian Shan.

The young guard nodded and dashed out of Bai Caotang.

Chen Yi glanced back, gave Wang Ji a nod, and followed.

He had not taken many steps when a familiar scent reached his nostrils. A moment later, a voice rang out joyfully:

"Boss Chen, we meet again."

Chen Yi turned to see Zhang Tingyun greeting him, calling to the distant Tian Shan disciple:

"Master Jin Peng, why are you running so fast?"

Jin Peng, the Tian Shan disciple, waved without looking back: "Master Sister, I’ll tell you when I return."

Zhang Tingyun paid him no mind, coming to stand beside Chen Yi, ruffling his shoulder with ease:

"Boss Chen, thank you for sheltering our Tian Shan disciple."

Chen Yi subtly sidestepped, saying calmly, "It is I who should thank you."

Zhang Tingyun paused, glanced at him, then at her own hand, smiling: "Boss Chen’s martial arts are not weak, are they?"

"Only skilled in punches and kicks—never made it to the top tier."

"Boss…"

Before she could finish, Chen Yi bowed slightly: "I have matters to attend to—I must leave now."

Zhang Tingyun hissed a farewell, and he was already gone.

She paused, lowered her head to inspect her attire, scratching her head in confusion:

"Am I that scary?"

Chen Yi paid her no mind. Once certain no one followed, he returned to the eastern market.

Precisely, he entered a small tavern outside the Lin family’s residence.

It was just past noon.

The tavern was nearly empty.

Chen Yi took the window seat, ordered a pot of yellow wine, half a pound of beef, and a bowl of clear broth noodles.

He ate and listened to the sounds within the Lin family’s compound.

After about a minute, the sound of urgent horse hooves approached, followed by a sharp knock on the door.

"You—you’ve returned! You weren’t supposed to be out with the caravan heading to the tea and horse roads beyond the dark market?"

“Hurry, take me to the master—something big has happened!”

The voice came in fragments, laced with shock and terror that never ceased to echo in the ears.

“Truly?”

“Those mud-slinging, lounging bandits from the Marquis of the West—could they really be attacking like that?”

“Absolutely! I saw it with my own eyes—those bandits slaughtered merchants right along the Tea Horse Road, not far from the border!”

“They—those bandits—rode towering horses, their hooves wrapped in cloth, each one bearing a fierce, savage face…”

“Huang Shu, San Ge—they’re all dead…”

“No, no, that’s impossible!”

“How could the King of Lan Du dare do such a thing?!”

“Master, it’s true, it’s truly true, woe is me…”

The clamor fell silent, as if another presence had arrived, pressing all—including Lin Zhengghong—into stillness.

“What’s happened?”

“The patrol commander, your lordship—you’ve finally come. The King of Lan Du has truly brought his army to invade the border.”

“What?!”

“You—you, have you gone to find Cao’s family?”

“At your lordship’s command, I naturally dared not—dare not refuse, I’ve already sealed a pact with Miss Cao last night…”

“Your lordship, now is not the time for such talk. Shouldn’t we have prepared long ago?”

“Fool!”

“The King of Lan Du’s invasion is our golden opportunity, yet you dare think of fleeing?”

“Quickly, while Miss Cao’s family still remains unaware, retrieve the contract from her at once!”

“Th-this… but… the grain was already delivered to Miss Cao’s people this morning…”

“You—!”

“No matter what you do, the grain must return to your Lin family’s storehouse before nightfall!”

“Ah, I…”

Chen Yi’s eyes flicked toward Lin’s mansion, clinging to a sliver of hope.

The schemer behind him all along wasn’t Lin Zhengghong, but someone standing just behind him.

How could the man who’d just learned of Lü Jiān’s survival have the foresight to send grain directly to Cao Qingpu?

There were others in the Jizhou Trading House still operating in Shuzhou.

“The saying goes, ‘Those who are good at water drown’—how convenient it was to spare me trouble.”

Chen Yi let out a quiet, knowing laugh, drained the wine in one gulp, and rose to leave the tavern.

“The rest depends on how much Cao Qingpu desires it…”

…

The path wound on.

Chen Yi shed his disguise, lifting his oil-paper umbrella with measured steps back to the Xia family.

The road was as usual.

Soldiers and household guards greeted him warmly, their voices full of concern.

Chen Yi nodded and bowed in return, his spirits lifted compared to when he’d witnessed Yuan Lao’er’s fate.

By his reckoning, Jizhou Trading House would’ve learned of the news by now and rushed to find Cao Qingpu.

In a day or two at most, he’d set things in motion with Lao Huang and the others.

Combined with reports from A Su Tau and Lü Jiān…

If Jizhou Trading House lost not a single hundred thousand silver taels, it would be a disgrace to his efforts.

Yet his good mood didn’t last past the threshold of Spring Lotus Garden—

It felt as though the world itself had shifted.

Outside, the rain-soaked air turned chilly, yet nowhere near as frigid as within the garden.

Crimson mist seeped through the courtyard, black snowflakes drifting like feathers in the air.

The once-damp stone slabs were now a thicket of thorns.

Vines with thick, knotted stems twisted across the yard, their thorny roots oozing dark green sap.

Towering trees rose around him, two wooden structures barely visible in the distance, and a small pavilion.

Chen Yi’s smile faded as he took in the scene, glancing once more behind him.

Thorns blanketed the path he’d just walked.

It felt as though he hadn’t merely crossed the gate of Spring Lotus Garden, but traveled thousands of miles into a strange, twisted forest.

“The Completion Realm… illusion?”

No sooner spoken than a sibilant laugh echoed from beside him:

“Illusion?”

“My art—this is the secret legacy of the Marquis of the West—spirit summoning!”

A gaunt, lean servant of the Hou family stood atop a nearby tree, crimson eyes gleaming as he gazed down.

“Lord of the Long Spear, or perhaps Master of the Light Boat—you’ve kept me waiting, good sir!”

(End of Chapter)