Chapter 44: Entering the Luyang Courtyard

That shocking speculation, of course, could not be shared with others; neither Chen Mingguang nor Wu Gang ever received an answer to their questions.

They had only done what was expected of them, but in the end, Gu Yi still chose to go, and there was nothing more they could do.

After bidding the guests farewell, he turned back into the house.

“Chongchong~”

“I’m here! I’m here!” The little girl was so obedient, bouncing over to him with her hair styled in two adorable buns.

He suddenly realized that no matter how far away she was, as soon as he called, she would come running—almost as if the act of calling her was a game in itself.

“It’s nothing, I just wanted to call you. How’s the talisman drawing going?”

Ma Yuan’s movement froze instantly, then she hurriedly gathered up the things on the table, hugging them to her chest, and spoke in a muffled voice without looking up, “Master! I’ll head back first, I’ll come again in a few days!”

“Go ahead, go ahead.”

Chongchong’s large eyes sparkled with confusion.

“Little Sir, did I do something wrong? Why does he seem so unhappy?”

“Of course. As thick-skinned as he is, there are two things he can’t stand.” Gu Yi raised a finger. “First, he has no hair. Second, he’s from Luyang Academy, and he’s especially proud of that. So he can’t take it—he’ll probably go back and work even harder.”

Chongchong tilted her little head in thought. “Emmm… He really is a strange person.”

“Don’t think about it. Come help me wash my hair, and tidy it up a bit.”

“All right, I’ll go heat some water!”

That’s why short hair is so convenient—it’s just a pity that people here are like those in ancient China.

Normally, he wore his hair half-tied, just a bit gathered at the back of his head, with some strands loose on either side—not for style, really, but because he was too lazy to do a full gather.

A full gather was like the one Chen Mingguang and Wu Gang wore—like the wigs in period dramas, with not a single strand of hair in front of the face.

Over the years, he’d grown used to this hairstyle, and Chongchong never changed it without permission, only making it a bit neater. Even the stray strands on his head that he would normally ignore were gathered and tied up, leaving a braid hanging down his back, with hair still falling to either side of his cheeks.

“Are you going out, Little Sir?”

“Do you want to come out and have some fun with me?” Gu Yi turned to ask her.

“Yes!”

…

At night, the Imperial Treasure Pavilion was still brightly lit. There were no kerosene lamps here; they burned spirit stones. Under the lamps, Gu Yi was surrounded by seven green talisman figures.

Ye Xiaoniang’s skill still couldn’t compare to his. The same talisman, when used by different people, yielded different effects.

Chongchong sat at the door, watching intently. Her little fingers traced the Talisman of Healing, copying it stroke by stroke. Occasionally she would pout, a clear sign of encountering something she couldn’t figure out.

Time flowed quietly on. At some point, Gu Yi suddenly changed his hand seal. The green talisman light around him dissipated, replaced by the circulation of white spirit energy.

Just days ago, he had broken through into meditation. The Shimmering Ten Needles Technique, which he hadn’t practiced in a long while, began to glimmer over him once more.

When it came to techniques, if any could rival the Biyang Method, it was this Shimmering Ten Needles.

When he first met little Yiyi, he hadn’t taught Gu Yi this technique because he had forgotten about its existence.

Gu Yi’s attempt to learn it halfway was somewhat forced.

Now, having gained insight from a previous opportunity and breaking through to a new level, this technique naturally became his first choice. There was no need to master too many others; otherwise, it would only appear shallow rather than specialized.

The Shimmering Ten Needles was also born in the plateau, created by the same person as the Biyang Method.

That person was the one whose name little Yiyi could never remember.

In order to help Gu Yi master this profound technique, little Yiyi had even taken him to the plateau.

From Chongchong’s perspective, Gu Yi changed from green to white, and began to emit dazzling white points of light, sharp as needles, falling from above. These hundreds of points seemed to strive to merge into a single needle, attempting to coalesce, but each time, they scattered again.

The Shimmering Ten Needles, like the Biyang Method, was inspired by a natural phenomenon: on the plateau’s sapphire lake, the sky was vast and cloudless, and on bright sunny days, the surface was covered with shimmering, flickering points of light. These were not static, but danced as if the sky itself were casting needles down onto the lake.

Hence the name: Shimmering Ten Needles.

Each needle contained a thousand more.

This was far more formidable than Fan Ling’s chicken-imitating technique.

Yet, the first needle failed to form. Gu Yi tried again and again, but each attempt ended with the needle’s power dispersing. Sweat began to bead on his forehead, and the spirit energy around him grew unstable.

Chongchong sensed something was wrong. Before she could react, Gu Yi suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.

“Little Sir!”

“It’s nothing,” Gu Yi raised his hand. “Don’t worry. The most important thing now is… get me a cup of water so I can rinse my mouth. It tastes so foul, I can’t stand it.”

“I’ll get it right away!”

He wasn’t truly injured—he had just forced the needle’s formation, and his spirit energy slipped out of control for a moment.

‘Gulp, gulp… ptooey!’

Wiping his mouth, he sighed, “It’s powerful, but the Shimmering Ten Needles really is hard to master.”

“Are you really all right? You just spat blood. I heard you need to eat three chickens to regain a drop of blood. If you spat out a whole mouthful, how many chickens would that take? Buying all those chickens would cost a fortune.” Chongchong stood beside him, beginning her own strange method of bookkeeping.

“What are you talking about? Who cultivates without spitting blood?”

“What? Then how many chickens does cultivation require? Isn’t that way too expensive?”

“Silly! Money doesn’t matter—if you succeed, you’ll never have to worry about money again.”

“But if you don’t succeed, wouldn’t all that money be wasted?”

“Go to bed, or I’ll steal your money.”

That sent the little girl running off in fright.

Gu Yi lay comfortably on his bed. He’d tried the Shimmering Ten Needles tonight—if he couldn’t master it, so be it. He never worried about such things.

Because a genius like him would always manage to form the first needle.

…

The next day, Fan Ling arrived, and he came wounded.

He waited in the front hall of the Imperial Treasure Pavilion.

At the sight of him, Gu Yi nearly burst out laughing.

Originally, this fellow used to cover his left cheek with his hair, like some rebellious youth. Now, with an injury to the right side of his face that had to be bandaged, the right eye was also covered—he looked like a blind monk.

There was no helping it; he used to show his right cheek, but now only the left was visible.

No wonder Fan Ling didn’t like him.

“As we agreed, if you won, I’d take you to see the Headmaster. But I can’t guarantee you’ll be allowed into the Hall of Techniques.”

“You remember well, and you speak truly.”

Ye Xiaoniang was present too, and very worried.

After all, the Fourth Princess’s lack of leniency and the Third Princess’s amiable character were well-known throughout Luyang City.

She stepped forward slowly. “Master Fan, my younger brother is not very sensible—he can be mischievous, but he’s not a bad person. I hope you won’t hold a grudge and will shield him before the Fourth Princess.”

Fan Ling seemed to respect Ye Xiaoniang somewhat. Now that the contest was settled, he dropped his airs and nodded slightly. “Your brother is talented. I lost, so I admit my defeat. But you know the Headmaster’s temperament—if she gets angry, there’s nothing I can do.”

“You heard him, little brother. When you go to Luyang Academy, be sincere and humble. It’s not the Imperial Treasure Pavilion—you mustn’t trifle with the Fourth Princess.”

Fan Ling nodded. Ye Xiaoniang was wise; she knew her words were meant to advise her brother, not to persuade Fan Ling.

To put it plainly, it wouldn’t have worked.

If things went badly, he might even get a beating himself.

Chongchong didn’t completely understand, but she felt vaguely uneasy. Tugging at Gu Yi’s sleeve, she said, “Little Sir, please don’t spit blood again.”

Was this concern?

It seemed to be, though to Gu Yi, it sounded a bit odd.

Leaving the Imperial Treasure Pavilion, they followed Tianmu Street toward Luyang Academy.

“I heard from Ma Yuan that even when he was still at the Academy, he couldn’t get me inside. You must have quite a position as Master of Talents.”

“It’s just an empty title.” Fan Ling kept his head down, his eyes still burning with fighting spirit. If not for his injuries, he’d probably want another match. “Tell me, did you provoke me on purpose that day, using me to get into Luyang Academy?”

“No, I was with Chen and Wu—why would I intentionally lure the Master of Talents to Changning?”

It was a hard logic to explain.

Fan Ling pondered, feeling a bit muddled.

“Never mind. It’s between you and the Headmaster now. Even though I don’t like you, I must warn you—don’t show off your clever tongue in front of her. She dislikes glib men.”

Gu Yi was puzzled. “Is the Fourth Princess really so fierce? Why does everyone act as if she’s a ghost?”

“It’s not that. The Headmaster is simply cold and strict. She keeps people at a distance and has even struck a few students, which makes her seem especially intimidating.”

So she was just a stronger version of Fan Ling.

The gate of the Luyang Academy’s farmhouse compound appeared ahead.

Fan Ling said little more, only, “We’re here.”

Beyond the gate stretched a long road—the end invisible from outside. After walking for a while, they came to a stone wall inscribed with words: Luyang Academy of Immortal Cultivation.

Gu Yi examined it. “This must be a talisman. If you tried to force your way in, you’d probably fail.”

Fan Ling was surprised. Though the Ye family boy was somewhat unruly, his insight was sharp.

Just then, a figure appeared ahead—a woman, hands folded before her, walking with an air of grace.

“So the little waist of Changning, Gu Yi, dares to step into our Luyang Academy,” she said.

She was a beautiful young woman, her complexion fair and her bearing touched by the sanctity of long cultivation.

“Are you here to welcome me?” Gu Yi called out.

Fan Ling shot him a sidelong glance: Is this guy all right?

The woman was briefly taken aback, then shook her head, laughing.

“With just one sentence, you prove the rumors true. How could I be here to welcome you? I’m here to ask you to leave.”

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As for recommendation votes, I’ve already given up hope… I’ll just let things go.