Chapter 8: Like Jade Trees on Heavenly Steps, Rare in the Mortal Realm, Just Like You

Chapter 8 Jade Trees on the Highest Tier, Like Her Form, Rare in the Mortal World

The hearts of a thousand, the hearts of ten thousand, in the end were discovered by others.

Chen Yitu instantly raised his hands, terrified that the sword blade glinting with cold light would slash him in an instant.

"Don’t move."

Xiao Wanzhe, hearing the voice, turned to look, seemingly recognizing Chen Yitu’s identity, and walked forward a few steps:

"Hua Tang, sheath your sword—this is the husband of the startled swan."

"Yes, my lady."

The woman named Hua Tang sheathed her long sword, yet still stood behind Chen Yitu, as if waiting for him to make a move, ready to parry for him.

Chen Yitu felt a sudden relief, straightened his gaze toward Xiao Wanzhe, his eyes brightening.

Earlier, in the garden where shadows flickered, he had only given Xiao Wanzhe a fleeting glance; now, seeing her clear features, a thrill stirred in his heart.

Though he had lived many lives and seen much, when those women stood before Xiao Wanzhe, they were merely "worthless flesh and blood."

How to describe her beauty?

Her face, pale as jade, like a melon seed, with skin as white as moon and starlight—still, even in this dim garden, her beauty was unmistakable.

Thinking of this, Chen Yitu’s mind conjured a line of poetry: *Jade trees on the highest tier, like her form, rare in the mortal world.*

Xiao Wanzhe, seeing his silence, assumed he had been frightened, and gently asked, "Have you been startled?"

Chen Yitu withdrew his gaze, shook his head: "No."

Though curious why he had appeared at the Hou Estate, Xiao Wanzhe scanned the area, realizing this was not a place for conversation, and hesitated: "Then, let’s first go inside for some tea."

"Very well."

Chen Yitu did not refuse. Once upon a time, he had also been rather direct.

Not long after.

Chen Yitu was led to the meeting hall within the wooden pavilion.

He sat upon the imperial scholar’s chair, feigning calmness as he surveyed the surroundings, yet inwardly he muttered something.

In recent days, the most he had heard from Xiao Bao was "Xiao Wanzhe," knowing her to be the head steward of the Hou family.

She managed the food, drink, and daily affairs of every room and department, as well as the shops and fields under the Hou family’s control—she was, except for the old patriarch Xiao Yuan, the most powerful person.

In some respects, even Xiao Wanhong, the general who had taken over the position of Duke of Qingdao, had less authority than Xiao Wanzhe.

This time, sneaking out of the Spring Lotus Garden, he had been caught by her—he wondered what would become of him.

Couldn’t he just be released from the carriage and sent back?

As Chen Yitu scrutinized the surroundings, Xiao Wanzhe approached under the guard of the woman with the long sword at her waist.

Xiao Wugo still drooped his head, trailing behind her.

"My lord, forgive me—Hua Tang is my personal guard. She only acted that way because she didn’t know your identity. You must not blame her."

Upon hearing this, Chen Yitu privately raised an eyebrow—this tone suggested he had no intention of pursuing him for sneaking out of the Spring Lotus Garden.

"Of course not. It should be I who apologizes—late at night, disturbing you, I am in the wrong."

His formal, refined words struck Chen Yitu as a bit stiff, yet he still insisted on his defense:

"That night, the long night left me sleepless. I heard someone shouting 'Runaway groom, runaway groom!' and went to investigate…"

Before he could finish, Xiao Wanzhe’s lovely eyebrows furrowed slightly: "Do you know who said it?"

Xiao Wugo also lifted his gaze, his eyes carrying a touch of regret.

"Of course it was that young prince." Chen Yitu glanced at him, smiled: "The young lord is clever and sensible, so angry he fought back."

"Ah, I see," Xiao Wanzhe’s eyebrows relaxed, her jade-white face softening into a gentle smile: "I was wrong to blame Wugo."

"Indeed…" Xiao Wugo bowed his head in gratitude toward Chen Yitu, muttering under his breath.

Xiao Wanzhe glared at him playfully: "You, be more grateful to your brother!"

"Wugo thanks his brother," Xiao Wugo paused, then stepped forward and bowed: "The matter of your brother’s escape from the wedding, I have settled it here."

Chen Yitu’s smile instantly crumbled: "Hah… settling it like that is fine, isn’t it? Man is not a saint, after all, isn’t he?"

What a brat—he just can’t help but spill the beans.

Xiao Wugo chuckled shyly, looking toward Xiao Wanzhe, not noticing her admiring Chen Yitu.

The younger brother is indeed clever.

Thinking this, Xiao Wanzhe smiled: "Wugo, from now on, you should walk around more with your brother."

"Your brother is a famous scholar of Jiangnan Prefecture—you can consult him if you don’t understand something."

"My elder sister, Wugo has noted this." But Chen Yitu was puzzled, wondering why Xiao Wanzhe’s tone had shifted.

He had no knowledge of such things. All the things he had learned in past lives, he had not even mastered yet.

Better not to ask him—otherwise, he might expose all his secrets.

Until Chen Yitu was escorted back to the Spring Lotus Garden by Shen Hua Tang, he had not yet understood Xiao Wanzhe’s meaning.

Couldn’t Xiao Wanzhe really expect Xiao Wugo to learn something from him?

Nonsense—learning fishing from him was no different.

Before Chen Yitu could figure out Xiao Wanzhe’s intent, Shen Hua Tang spoke: "My lord, the lady is kind-hearted and forgiving, but I must warn you."

"Hmm?" Chen Yitu snapped back to attention, looking at her.

Earlier, Xiao Wanzhe had been so beautiful, he had not paid much attention to this sword-wielding guard, but now he noticed her exceptional qualities.

Even with his shallow cultivation, Chen Yitu could not discern Shen Hua Tang’s true strength, yet he sensed a sharpness in her aura, like a long sword waiting to be sheathed.

"Shen the guard, that is—directly."

"I hope you can remain obedient within the Hou family. Please avoid incidents like tonight, lest you cause harm to yourself or others."

Upon finishing, Shen Hua Tang slightly bowed, then returned to the Hou Estate, closing the door at the end of the corridor.

Click—the lock snapped shut.

Chen Yitu frowned inwardly. She was trying to protect him from involving Xiao Wanzhe, or perhaps…

"My lord, why are you here?"

At that moment, Xiao Bao, dressed in a short robe, rushed over, her small frame light as if she could be blown away by a gust of wind.

"You haven’t gone back yet? You can’t go to the Hou Estate, if you accidentally bump into the young lord and the lady, you—you…"

Chen Yitu could not help but laugh and cry at once: "Put your heart in your stomach—I was just… hearing someone shouting late at night, so I came to take a look."

He repeated the lie a couple of times, not truly, yet also truly.

Xiao Bao looked at him doubtfully, and upon confirming his sincerity, patted his shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief.

"My lord, can’t you sleep?"

Chen Yitu shook his head, walking ahead: "No."

Oh, little butterfly, don’t address me as “you” anymore—it makes me so uncomfortable. Just treat me as you did before, that’s all.

“But Uncle Chen, things aren’t the same as they were.” Xiao Dié blinked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“What’s changed? You’re still you, I’m still me. Just do as I say. If I hear that word again—‘you’—I’ll have you punished by the family methods!” Chen Yì growled, his voice sharp with warning.

“…Oh.”

Xiao Dié tilted her head, trailing behind him, her brow furrowed in thought. She nearly fainted from overthinking, unable to fathom what had rattled her uncle so.

While Xiao Dié lay asleep in the chamber, Chen Yì remained wakeful. He drifted between memories of tonight’s events and the martial arts manual’s strategies for future cultivation. His mind kept returning to the incident at Jia Xing Yuan—the young lord, the crown prince, Xiao Wan’er, and that enigmatic woman, Shen Huatang.

Clearly, the Hou family was far more intricate than he’d ever imagined.

After tossing restlessly for nearly half a day, Chen Yì finally rose, draped in a blanket, and made his way to the study. He lit an oil lamp, poured tea, and ground his ink.

In recent days, as his calligraphy improved, he’d noticed something remarkable: his mind grew calmer when writing, a quiet joy he hadn’t known before.

He steadied himself, dipped his brush, and let it kiss the cloud-and-pine paper.

At first, his strokes were aimless—words like, *“Fallen blossoms hold no malice,”* followed by, *“A lone boat drifts past a thousand peaks.”* Or, *“The old tower swayed in last night’s breeze,”* paired with, *“Yet I was lost in melancholy then.”*

Without realizing it, Xiao Dié’s face surfaced in his thoughts. The brush stilled, then flowed with effortless grace, inscribing:

*Snow-formed clouds carve a crown of frost,

Ice-silk wipes the moon, becoming eyes.

The tiger’s lair swells with midnight tides,

Star-rivers cascade, spilling ten thousand mountains into jade.

Sword qi first condenses in dark brows,

A heron glides, unseen, through Shu’s realm.

Marble terraces, jade trees—*

*Like you, in this world, so rare…*

Lost in the rhythm, Chen Yì scarcely noticed the scarce qi within him being drawn into the characters. Mystic currents rose and danced above each stroke.

[Text manifests naturally; calligraphy: Wei Qing style, breakthrough to mastery—revealing the essence of the Book Way.]

[Book Way: minor achievement, progress +60, attaining…]

(The chapter ends.)