Back in the meditation room, right as Chen Zui closed the door, a long-absent system prompt sounded in his mind.
Pale gold characters floated into view.
【Assisted Yuanzhen in breaking through the bottleneck of the Mountain-Viewing Realm. Reward: 50 EXP.】
【Rescued Jiang Lai. Reward: 80 EXP.】
A total of one hundred and thirty EXP. Had it been a year ago, Chen Zui would have been invigorated, staying up all night calculating whether this was enough to level up.
But now, he merely glanced at it casually, not even bothering with the thought of allocating points.
After stepping into the Wind-Riding Realm, the EXP required for each level was an astronomical figure.
Throwing this tiny income in wouldn't even cause a ripple.
He casually waved the prompt away, placed his sword at the head of the bed, and fell asleep.
Early the next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Jiang Lai came to bid farewell.
She had changed into a clean set of martial attire. The wound on her left sleeve was neatly bandaged, her braids rewrapped, and the silver bells replaced with new ones. Yet, the domineering air from yesterday was gone from her features, replaced by a touch more composure.
She cupped her hands in a bow to Chen Zui and earnestly invited him to visit the Jiang family once again, saying that if her father knew Grandmaster Chen had saved her life without even stepping through their door, he would surely scold her for lacking manners.
Chen Zui brushed it off as usual with his standard “If there's an opportunity.”
Afterward, Yuanzhen dispatched four martial monks in the Mountain and Sea Realm to escort Jiang Lai home, providing fast horses and dry rations, arranging everything seamlessly.
He knew full well in his heart that with the strand of Sword Saint's sword qi Chen Zui had gifted her last night, Jiang Lai would face no danger along the way.
Liu Yinsheng's sword qi meant that even if a hundred black-clad men like those from last night showed up, they would only be sending themselves to their deaths.
Still, since Guang'en Temple had run into the assassination of the Jiang family's young lady, failing to send an escort would leave them looking bad in front of such influential families.
Courtesy and appearances had to be maintained.
After seeing Jiang Lai off, Yuanzhen turned around and pressed his palms together, putting on that earnest expression unique to martial fanatics. On the pretext of seeking martial instruction, he pleaded with Chen Zui and Li Wu to stay at the temple for a few more days.
Chen Zui had no concrete plans to begin with, and Li Wu was more than happy to enjoy free room and board at the temple, so the two readily agreed.
Over the following days, the two received the highest level of courtesy from everyone at Guang'en Temple.
They stayed in the quiet room reserved for the abbot, ate meals cooked specially for them, and a novice monk even took the initiative to wipe down and oil Li Wu's rusty sword.
Li Wu, of course, knew he was basking in the reflected glory of Chen Zui, a Martial Arts Grandmaster.
But he didn't care in the slightest, eating and drinking as he pleased with a clear conscience, making himself even more at home than in his own house.
In his own words, why wouldn't he take advantage of his brother's clout?
On this day.
Chen Zui was in the courtyard watching Li Wu practice with his sword. Seeing him repeat the same few unorthodox moves he had scraped together from who-knows-where, the transitions between stances stiff and full of glaring flaws, Chen Zui offered a few words of advice.
Intentionally or otherwise, he dropped hints that he was willing to teach him a few sword techniques.
Had it been anyone else, receiving personal guidance in sword techniques from a Wind-Riding Realm Grandmaster would have had them kneeling on the spot to take him as their master.
Yet after listening, Li Wu thought it over, unexpectedly shook his head, and said with rare seriousness:
“Brother Chen, at the end of the day, you practice the spear. If I'm going to learn, I want to learn the purest sword techniques.”
As he spoke, he worked himself up into a fervor.
“That's right, I want to practice the purest sword techniques!
So, I've decided.
I'm going to take a journey through Grand Zhao's martial world!
Grand Zhao's Way of the Sword has always held a firm upper hand over Grand Shuo's.
Otherwise, it wouldn't have produced two Earthly Sword Immortals like Shen Xingzhi and Lü Beisheng.
I'm going to Grand Zhao to seek a master, learn the sword, and make a name for myself.
When my sword arts reach great mastery, I'll go to the shore of the Eastern Sea in Jinyang City and pull out Sword God Lü's Sheiru sword!”
When he uttered these words, his back was straight as a ramrod. Holding that rusty sword in his hand, he genuinely radiated a touch of a young swordsman's spirited ambition.
Looking at his demeanor, Chen Zui refrained from advising him further.
Although Li Wu usually acted reckless and unseemly, he was never insincere when it came to the Way of the Sword.
Since he had made up his mind, nine oxen wouldn't be able to pull him back.
“If you're heading out through the pass to Grand Zhao, you can stop by the Frost-Sigh Sect first.
Look for a female disciple named Ye Zhibai and tell her you're my, Chen Zui's, brother.
With the foundation of the Frost-Sigh Sect, they certainly won't mistreat you.
If you're lucky, for my sake, they might even teach you all their sect's sword arts.”
Li Wu froze for a moment, then suddenly burst into a grin, his eyes curving into crescents.
He said no words of tearful gratitude, only slapping Chen Zui's shoulder firmly and saying a single sentence:
“Good brother! In the next life, I, Li Wu, will still recognize only you, Chen Zui, as my brother!”
Then, humming a little tune, he went back to practicing his sword.
The next morning, when Chen Zui woke up, the neighboring bed was already empty.
The blanket was folded neatly, and both Li Wu's rusty sword and worn padded jacket were gone.
Resting on the pillow was a brand-new leather wine flask.
The stitching was fine and tight, the leather soft and pliable, with a crooked character for “Chen” carved into the body.
At a glance, it was clearly scraped out using the tip of the rusty sword.
“Who knows when this kid bought it, let alone where he got the money.”
Chen Zui shook his head with a helpless, wry smile.
He picked up the wine flask and weighed it in his hand.
He hung the new wine flask at his waist and pushed open the door.
The morning wind sweeping across the grasslands rushed against his face, carrying a crisp, refreshing scent of vegetation.
The courtyard was devoid of people, while in the distance came the deep, low chanting of monks performing their morning prayers.
A few grey-feathered birds rustled as they took flight from beneath the eaves, vanishing into the pale white glow at the edge of the horizon.
Afterward, Chen Zui loitered at Guang'en Temple for two more days.
Every day, he discussed martial arts and Zen with Yuanzhen, breaking down key martial points and explaining them in granular detail.
Yuanzhen was insatiable, experiencing sudden enlightenments time after time; the lights in the meditation room often burned until the third watch of the night before extinguishing.
But Chen Zui knew it was time to leave.
No matter how delicious the vegetarian meals of Guang'en Temple were, this was ultimately not a place for him to linger forever.
On the morning of his departure, Yuanzhen escorted him outside the mountain gate, pressing his palms together. His expression was filled with reluctance, yet he made no further attempt to ask him to stay.
He understood in his own heart that thick-skinnedly keeping this Martial Arts Grandmaster in the temple for these past few days to seek guidance and spar every day was already an immense blessing.
Any other Wind-Riding Realm Grandmaster wouldn't even spare a glance for a Mountain-Viewing Realm martial monk from a remote, desolate temple, let alone patiently answer his endless stream of questions.
Not only did Grandmaster Chen lack the slightest bit of arrogance, but before leaving, he even used red ink to annotate several key solutions to bottlenecks in Yuanzhen's well-thumbed notebook of martial insights.
Yuanzhen held that notebook in both hands, bowed deeply, and uttered a Buddhist chant, his voice graver than ever before.
Chen Zui waved his hand, slung his wine flask over his shoulder, and turned to step onto the mountain path.
Having walked far into the distance, he looked back and could still see that grey-robed figure standing before the mountain gate, like a pine tree rooted in place.
The mountain path wound onward, splitting into two forks after a few li.
One headed south, leading back the way he had come.
One headed west, leading into the heart of the vast grasslands.
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