Chapter 341: Junior Chen Yi Pays Respects (Requesting Monthly Tickets)

Chapter 341: The Younger Brother Chen Yì Pays a Visit……(Please Vote for the Monthly Ticket)

Yuan Lao’er’s martial arts talent surpassed even her medical prowess. From the very beginning, her Twelve Fundamental Principles flowed freely, and she encountered no obstacles in the Ninth, Eighth, or even Seventh Grades.

The cultivation path ahead—reaching the middle Third Grade and refining the “Divine” technique—would be straightforward with medical arts as her companion, and she should face no great challenges.

In other words, Yuan Lao’er could ascend to the upper Third Grade through diligent cultivation in due time, whether early or late.

As for techniques……

Chen Yì scrutinized Yuan Lao’er from head to toe, his eyes glinting with a sharp, probing light as he employed the “Breathing and Qi” technique to examine her muscles and bones.

“Women should not rely on brute strength; they must cultivate lightness and agility.”

“The Crashing Mountain Fist, Falling Dragon Spear, and Embroidered Spring Dagger Technique are all forceful styles—unsuitable for her.”

“Then……”

Chen Yì glanced sideways at Pei Menglì, and instantly knew which techniques to impart to Yuan Lao’er.

“The primary stance work should be the Big Spear Stance. Once she attains the Eighth Grade, I will pass on to her the Four Symbols Internal Skill.”

“As for techniques, the fist and the weapon: the fist is the Blooming Flowers Palm, and the weapon—only the sword path remains. The Ten Thousand Flower Sword Method is also quite good.”

Among footwork, the Soaring Dragon and Phoenix Dance surpasses the Meteor Butterfly Step in suitability.

In the span of his thoughts, Chen Yì had already settled on the martial arts, techniques, and methods to teach Yuan Lao’er.

Pei Menglì noticed his gaze, lifted her lips in a smile: “Brother, what are you staring at?”

Chen Yì shifted his eyes, then looked back at Yuan Lao’er, and mused: “I have yet to tell you—I have taken on an apprentice.”

Pei Menglì gasped, “Brother, you have a disciple?”

Chen Yì nodded: “So there is something I need you to do.”

“In the next two days, I will attend the examination. I want you to teach me the Big Spear Stance that my disciple practices.”

“The stance work? That’s simple.”

Pei Menglì patted her chest in assurance, then curiously glanced around, “Brother, you haven’t told me who your disciple is. How lucky you are!”

Chen Yì pointed at Ma Liangcai and said, “He.”

Pei Menglì followed his finger’s direction, her face freezing into a stiff smile, hesitating and stammering, “Brother……he, he’s a bit older, but it’s alright……”

Chen Yì chuckled and shook his head: “I’m not teaching you him—I’m teaching you his disciple, my own grandchild.”

He pointed at Yuan Lao’er and said, “She is.”

Pei Menglì instantly relaxed, eyeing Yuan Lao’er with a grin, nodding eagerly: “I’ll entrust it to me.”

“Remember, only teach the stance work.”

“Alright……Brother, is the Big Spear Stance a bit…ordinary?”

Chen Yì raised an eyebrow at her: “Do you have anything less ordinary?”

Pei Menglì giggled a few times, flustered, “There are others in the clan, but my grandmother won’t let me pass them to outsiders……”

Chen Yì patted her forehead and smiled, “The Big Spear Stance it is.”

With Yuan Lao’er’s talent, even an ordinary stance work would suffice to refine her body to the Ninth Grade.

After all, there was also the Mysterious Wu Suppression Technique……

After finishing his business, Chen Yì secretly gave Pei Menglì a few instructions, not yet wishing to reveal his identity.

“Rest assured, Brother—I’m the strictest of all. Not even Sister Jinghong noticed……”

Hearing the praise, Chen Yì shook his head.

The time he’d made that scrawny girl give a message to Xiao Jinghong had been a desperate measure.

Fortunately, he’d set things up in advance, and no suspicion had arisen. Had things gone differently, he feared his identity might already be exposed.

Amid idle chatter……

Chen Yì was about to leave Pei Menglì alone in the Pharmacy Hall when he headed toward the Herbalist Hall.

There, he felt a sudden surge of spiritual energy in the air.

A faint glow spread like ripples, lingering for ten breaths before gradually fading.

Pei Menglì seemed to sense something, her brow furrowed in doubt: “Brother, did someone just stir the spiritual energy here?”

“Who’s practicing internal skills or techniques?”

Chen Yì gave no answer. Instead, he looked at Yuan Lao’er with quiet surprise.

At that moment, Yuan Lao’er still stood by Ma Liangcai, her eyes half-closed, her body visibly transforming.

Her once gaunt frame had plumped slightly under the spiritual energy’s nurturing influence, her complexion noticeably rosy.

Chen Yì understood this was due to Yuan Lao’er’s prolonged starvation and frail constitution.

Had it been his own body, honed to perfection by the Big Spear Stance, Mysterious Wu Suppression Technique, and Four Symbols Internal Skill, such spiritual energy fluctuations would have had little effect.

“Yet she’s only just begun in medical arts—only a few days?”

Chen Yì muttered to himself, glancing at the oblivious Ma Liangcai, and scoffed softly.

How tragic that such a prodigy had been reduced to following that mediocre scholar.

“You dog—you’ve spent so long in medical arts and still haven’t reached even minor accomplishment. A stumbling block like that maple lump.”

“Truly……a disgrace to the school, a disgrace to the school.”

Chen Yì shook his head inwardly, then whispered a few instructions to Pei Menglì before departing.

Pei Menglì watched him go, then bounced over to Yuan Lao’er, scrutinizing her carefully.

“Brother’s granddaughter……so I must be her senior cousin?”

Pei Menglì’s eyes widened into crescent moons, her grin stretching wide, causing Ma Liangcai to blush furiously.

But he knew Pei Menglì had been sent by Chen Yì, so he dared to speak:

“This young lady……”

Pei Menglì shot her a sideways glance, “Call me Senior Brother. What kind of lady?”

Ma Liangcai blinked, then quickly straightened up, bowing respectfully: “Senior Brother.”

“My junior has done something wrong—please forgive them.”

Pei Menglì laughed heartily, her eyes sparkling: “No harm done. What brings you here, Senior Brother?”

Ma Liangcai bowed again, then hesitated, unable to ask why she’d been staring at Yuan Lao’er so intently.

Pei Menglì waved dismissively: “Nothing. Just go on, don’t keep me waiting to see my senior brother’s fine granddaughter.”

“Yes, yes, yes……”

Ma Liangcai exhaled in relief, then returned to his seat.

He glanced at the patient while examining him, his eyes never blinking as they fell upon Pei Ma Ling of Yuan Lüuer, thinking to himself:

Master Shishu came to take a look at his disciple—how fortunate for his student.

Perhaps another minute or so would pass.

Yuan Lüuer awoke, feeling as though her entire body had been refreshed, her limbs light and at ease. She instinctively stretched, and a symphony of bones and sinews seemed to resonate through her frame, as if reborn, nourished beyond measure.

Yet before she could unravel the cause of her revival, she quickly approached Ma Liang, bowing respectfully:

“Master, my lord, I believe I fell asleep during your instruction.”

Before Ma Liang could respond, Pei Ma Ling patted Yuan Lüuer’s shoulder, leaning casually against her:

“Nonsense—sleeping is part of the process. You’ve taken a liking to the Way of Medicine, and that’s a blessing.”

Yuan Lüuer blinked, slightly awkward in her nodding of understanding, turning to face him:

“This elder sister, you say I’ve entered the realm of medicine?”

“Ahem—your uncle would put it that way.”

“Uncle?”

“Your uncle, the proprietor of this apothecary.”

Ma Liang finally found a moment to interject, rising to greet her:

“Lüuer, be sure to present your respects to your master and patriarch.”

Yuan Lüuer, realizing her oversight, bowed again:

“Lüuer has the honor of presenting her respects to Master and Patriarch.”

Pei Ma Ling’s smile grew brighter, though upon noticing the others in the shop watching, he gently guided Yuan Lüuer toward the inner chambers.

“Come along, I’ve been instructed to tell you a few things before your master departs.”

“Oh… of course.”

Ma Liang bowed him off with a warm smile, then brushed the sweat from his brow, his expression darkening with worry.

He had spent no more than a month teaching Yuan Lüuer the ways of medicine, yet here she was, already initiated into the discipline.

His heart ached with a complex mix of emotions. “Master was right—Lüuer’s talents are rare. To be her teacher… it is an honor, an indescribable honor…”

Ma Liang could not find the right words. He felt unworthy. After all, he had studied under Chen Yi for so long, and still had not reached even the minor pinnacle of the medical path.

“Understanding constancy and adaptation, understanding constancy and adaptation—what does that truly mean?”

…

Chen Yi himself remained unaware of the affairs within the Bianzhong Apothecary.

Even if he knew of Hu Xiaotou’s unreliability, he had yet to find a more suitable successor to pass on the martial arts to Yuan Lüuer.

Thankfully, after the imperial examination, he would have more time at his disposal, and need not fear that Pei Ma Ling might corrupt Yuan Lüuer.

Chen Yi strolled along the eastern street, pausing now and then, not in any particular haste.

As he had before, he moved with the leisure of a leisurely promenade, admiring this and that, buying a skewer of candied hawthorn, which he ate with relish.

The afternoon sun bathed the world in warmth, while a gentle breeze stirred the leaves.

Everything along the way was clear and vivid.

The people’s frowns had faded, their laughter and shouts echoing through the streets, vendors called out with fervor, and porters shouted invitations to passersby.

It resembled the first time Chen Yi had been here—bustling and alive, with a faint glimmer of prosperity.

Of course, there were changes too.

For one, the number of foreign merchants and their slave-girls had dwindled, especially those from the southern regions.

After the incidents involving Asu Tai and Lü Jiān, the officials had arrested many of these foreigners.

Some were sentenced, others exiled, but at least precautions had been taken.

Even the city guards, who usually did not patrol during the day, now stood as vigilantly as clerks along the main avenues.

Chen Yi noted this with a sense of quiet satisfaction.

To outsiders, it seemed the Xia family had cleared the way—Xia Shao had eliminated Liu Hong and quelled the rising bread prices.

Yet Chen Yi, the true architect behind it all, could not accept such a simplistic view.

At the very least, his conscience held the thought: *I have bled for the Xia family.*

When Xia Jinghong learned of his deeds, Chen Yi would need to make his presence felt, lest Xia Jinghong treat him harshly.

Chen Yi walked until he reached the southern district, his eyes catching sight of the administrative office, and he smiled to himself.

There, seated prominently on the office’s threshold, was Chen Yunfan, shouting outward at the gathered crowd:

“Enough already—people are dead, and your words won’t reach Liu Hong or his followers. Why bother?”

“Or perhaps you intend to follow him?”

Without warning, someone from the crowd bellowed:

“You’re no good yourself!”

Enraged, Chen Yunfan let out a laugh, about to confront the man, his dignity as a nine-rank official seemingly forgotten.

The commotion and clamor continued.

The gathered citizens eventually dispersed.

Chen Yi observed the entire scene, then gave a distant nod to Chen Yunfan.

Chen Yunfan had already noticed him, bowing slightly upon seeing him approach, then turned back toward the administrative office.

This morning, he had just received imperial favor, and now here was Chen Yi—he had no desire to meet him.

If Chen Yi offered congratulations or condolences, or spoke of brotherhood and merit, he feared he might be driven to distraction.

Chen Yi watched his retreating back, and after a moment’s hesitation, did not dwell on it further, assuming the administrative office was simply busy.

Though, after all—

Chen Yunfan’s diligence was indeed rare.

“It seems Chen Yuánji’s visit to Shuzhou has caused his brother considerable concern.”

Chen Yi shook his head, heading straight for the Bianzhong Apothecary.

He felt little warmth toward this stranger who called himself “father,” nor knew what other motives the man might have for touring the three towns.

In any case, he would take things as they came.

Not long after, Chen Yi arrived at the western market, eyeing the plaque on the Bianzhong Apothecary’s door—his own calligraphy still gleaming: *Bianzhong Apothecary.*

A series of vivid scenes flashed before him, illuminating the surroundings.

The apothecary had not been visited in several days, and its exterior had changed.

Since the Xinglin Pavilion had been sealed by the authorities, the apothecary’s medicinal supplies had returned to normal, no longer requiring restricted tea purchases, and patrons now came in steady succession.

Many scholars in long robes and elderly men had gathered near the entrance, sitting in a corner without obstructing passersby.

Before them sat stools, where they held brushes to copy the apothecary’s plaque.

There were also many travelers from other regions, pointing and gesturing at that plaque.

Not to mention Qin Che, the renowned master whose name echoed through the land with "Poetry" and "Books" to his credit, this piece of clerical script—his handwriting is truly unrestrained and magnificent.

Brothers, you have only seen the surface, but in truth, Qin Che's writings conceal profound mysteries.

Each stroke is free and spontaneous, yet within lies a distinct aura of solitary pride. Gentlemen, take a closer look at the "cursive" character.

Is the vertical stroke at the bottom not powerful and forceful?

A middle-aged scholar, stroking his beard, continued: "When studying calligraphy, one must not merely observe its form but understand its essence."

You speak wisely; we have learned from you...

Chen Yi glanced at those scholars copying the plaques and was about to enter the Bai Caotang to seek out Wang Ji for instructions.

Just as he lifted his foot, a clear, cold, and solitary voice echoed behind him: "Come, have a drink."

Chen Yi furrowed his brow and turned his head toward the Yun Qing Lou behind him.

In the window on the third floor facing the street, a figure sat with his back to the street, his jet-black hair tied with a red ribbon.

His snow-white shoulders could be faintly seen.

Is it him?

Chen Yi's mind raced with the person's identity, his brow tightening further: "How could he invite me to drink?"

The person was none other than the incomparably skilled swordsman he had encountered after defeating Du Cang earlier.

—The "Snow Sword Immortal," Ye Lv Xian.

Yet Chen Yi could not fathom why this person had sought him out.

After some thought.

Chen Yi looked around, finding no signs of disturbance, and entered the Yun Qing Lou.

He thanked the familiar waiter inside the building and directly ascended to the third floor, reaching the door of that elegant chamber.

After setting his attire, he pushed the door open, saw Ye Lv Xian seated at the table, pouring and drinking his own wine, and then closed the door behind him.

Click.

Chen Yi took his seat at the table, facing Ye Lv Xian, and bowed his hands.

The junior, Chen Yi, has the honor to meet the "Snow Sword Immortal."

Ye Lv Xian set down his wine cup, his narrow eyes fixed on him as sharp as a blade.

Chen Yi's body was tense, yet he forced himself to remain calm.

With his current cultivation, he was far behind the "Snow Sword Immortal."

If the "Snow Sword Immortal" intended to kill him, he would fight for his life, likely meeting a grim end.

Fortunately, Ye Lv Xian merely glanced at him and then looked away.

Yet the surrounding space retained a subtle peculiarity, as if a sword aura prison had formed, independent of the world.

Ye Lv Xian poured wine and spoke on his own: "It has been several days since we last met. Your sword technique has reached great completion..."

Indeed.

(End of Chapter)