Hearing those words, Zongzheng Huangyue had no hesitation about where they were going, only absolute obedience to Wen Li’s decision.
“If I am to leave without a trace, I will need a cover story, as well as someone who can maintain that cover for me.”
Moreover, this person had to hold high status and immense authority, someone whose word most of Houchi Kingdom—even the Saint Emperor—would believe without question.
After all, her current status and position represented the Houchi people’s faith in the imperial clan. She couldn't casually enter or leave Houchi Kingdom’s borders, let alone be gone for so long.
A few days ago, when she went to Beiqiong Kingdom, she had only been allowed to go after giving advance notice to Zongzheng Yingchu, who sent escorts to protect her.
Suddenly, she turned her head toward Wen Li, and almost in unison, the two uttered the exact same name.
“Zongzheng Yingchu.”
Gu Linshu: “...”
Just moments ago, they were calling him pretentious, and now they were already planning to use him. These two truly were...
A match made in heaven as master and disciple.
“However, the Imperial Preceptor has always been cold and unfeeling. I've never seen him care about anything. They say that ever since he returned from the Central Province, he has guarded the Zongzheng Ancestral Temple for nearly two thousand years. Although we have a master-disciple relationship, he only guides my cultivation. If I just up and leave, there is no way he would cover for me,” Zongzheng Huangyue said, knitting her brows.
“He might even detain me and report everything to the Saint Emperor.”
“No, perhaps... he does have something he cares about.”
Wen Li tilted her head, rubbing her chin with one hand, a sudden flash of wicked amusement narrowing her eyes.
Seeing her expression, Gu Linshu—who had remained silent this entire time—suddenly remembered the grudges Wen Li had mentioned having with Zongzheng Yingchu. He had a faint premonition that Master was about to stir up trouble.
Driven by curiosity, he blurted out, “Wh-Wh-Wh-What does he care about?”
The white-robed youth’s wide eyes were filled with intrigue.
The sudden bout of stuttering brought the room to a standstill. Both of them turned their heads in unison to stare at him.
“...” Wen Li opened her mouth, unable to bring herself to extinguish the young man's confidence. Forget it, the kid was pitiful enough already with his tongue-tied speech.
Zongzheng Huangyue, on the other hand, couldn’t resist asking, “Senior Brother, were you born with this stutter?”
“N-N-N-No,” Gu Linshu said, shaking his head. Because this explanation was too long, he simply used voice transmission so both of them could hear.
“When I was young, my father was busy with sect affairs. Fearing I would be bored, he caught a parrot demon beast to keep as a pet before I even learned to speak. The parrot flew out to play every day and happened upon a storyteller with a terrible stutter. It flew over every day to listen, and upon returning, it would mimic him and speak to me. After listening for so long, I learned to stutter as well.
“By the time my father noticed, the habit was already too deeply ingrained to fix.”
“...”
The expressions on Wen Li and Zongzheng Huangyue’s faces turned exceedingly bizarre. It was understandable for a parrot to listen to storytelling and repeat it to entertain its master, but why would a storyteller have a severe stutter? How could someone stuttering like that even be a storyteller?
Who would listen—the deaf?
As if reading the expressions on their faces, Gu Linshu’s pale, refined cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. He raised a hand, cleared his throat, and instinctively spoke aloud to explain.
“B-Because the st-storyteller w-w-was a stutterer, n-no one wanted to hear him talk. S-S-So he wanted to be a storyteller, to sp-sp-speak more and get people to listen to him. But still, n-n-n-no one wanted to listen, except my parrot w-w-was his audience.”
That was why the parrot had visited the storyteller every day. It had intelligence; it sensed the storyteller's loneliness, and knowing that the young Gu Linshu needed companionship, it had made a point to listen to stories and return to share them with him.
Never had it imagined that its good intentions would backfire, leaving Gu Linshu with a stuttering habit.
“The storyteller w-was a mortal. He fell ill and died two years later, and my parrot a-a-also grew depressed from his influence, so I-I-I-I let it go. Later, my parents k-k-kept me by their side every day, talking with me wherever we went, telling me to s-s-s-speak slowly, and my stutter improved a lot.”
Wen Li suddenly remembered what he had told her earlier: “My parents said that if I speak more, I won't stutter.” It turned out it wasn't just to cure his stutter, but because they feared that, like that stuttering storyteller, no one would listen to him, leaving him trapped in his own loneliness.
“It's fine. In the future, speak whenever you want to. It doesn't matter how long the sentence is. If it's an urgent matter, just use voice transmission.” Looking at the bashful, embarrassed expression on her third disciple's face, Wen Li felt an urge to slap herself. I'm really the worst.
Whatever. From now on, she wouldn't tease him out loud anymore—she would just grumble in her mind.
Listening to Gu Linshu's explanation, Zongzheng Huangyue felt a subtle ache in her chest. She could tell that, unlike her, this senior brother hadn't had to calculate every step or ruthlessly pursue power from a young age. He still harbored a genuine belief in kindness and goodness. More than that, she could tell he had a warm, loving family.
His parents treated him well; he was a child raised with love.
Yet she didn't envy him for having parents who loved him like that. She only found it curious that Wen Li would accept a disciple like him. She had assumed everyone in the sect was as unscrupulous as she was.
Zongzheng Huangyue didn't crave love—she craved power. In fact, she felt fortunate not to be shackled by such love, for she never wanted to have a weakness.
Hearing Wen Li's words, a bright, clear smile broke across Gu Linshu's face. “Mm, th-th-thank you, Master!”
Wen Li patted the young man on the shoulder and turned to Zongzheng Huangyue. “I have a plan that can get Zongzheng Yingchu to cover for you, but... there's an element of gambling involved. He might try to attack you.”
Hearing this, Zongzheng Huangyue’s heart skipped a beat, knowing there was bad blood between them without knowing the details. Having only recently become a disciple, she wasn't familiar with her master's insidious tendencies. Assuming it was merely a simple threat, she nodded in agreement.
“It does not matter. As long as I can travel and train with Master, I am willing to try. Besides, with my bloodline purity, no matter how furious he gets, he wouldn't kill me.”
“...” No, young lady. My scheme is far too wicked. Once he's driven mad by my provocation, he might actually kill you.
At her words, Wen Li opened her mouth in rare hesitation, seemingly wanting to say something, but ultimately lapsed into silence.
On second thought, Zongzheng Yingchu had cultivated for thousands of years and was now an Imperial Preceptor. Surely he was no longer the hotheaded youth who had been driven into such a frenzy by her that he chased her everywhere to hack her down. He should be able to keep his temper in check by now, right?
Her reaction set off warning bells in Zongzheng Huangyue's mind. Master was so formidable; she couldn't possibly be this afraid of the Imperial Preceptor, could she? Yet the look in Wen Li's eyes was deeply unsettling.
Under Zongzheng Huangyue's puzzled gaze, which carried a faint, unspoken hope that she might reconsider, Wen Li patted her shoulder. “Wait here a moment. I'll prepare something for you to deliver to him.”
“...” Zongzheng Huangyue parted her lips, suddenly feeling as though she might not be quite as durable as she thought.
Master, maybe you should think this through again.
Just as she was about to ask, Wen Li vanished in the blink of an eye. She appeared by the nearby desk, pulling out several items while preparing them with an evil grin, occasionally letting out a series of unhinged, villainous laughs: “Hehehe...”
The sight sent a shiver down Zongzheng Huangyue’s spine. Crossing her arms, she couldn’t help but step over to Gu Linshu and ask in a low voice, “Senior Brother, do you know what Master is preparing?”
Gu Linshu shook his head calmly. “M-Master's thoughts cannot be guessed.”
“Lend me your brush for a moment.”
Suddenly, the purple-gold brush pinned into Gu Linshu’s hair crown took flight, somehow ending up in Wen Li’s hand inside the study.
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