A composed woman said: "The most pitiful is Miss Mingzhu of Iron Pear Mountain Villa. Because she was a close confidante of Lotus Immortal Nan Xinlan, she heard this terrible news, felt indignation in her heart, and went to seek revenge. It has already been several days without word. If she has also fallen into the hands of that lecher White Chrysanthemum, who knows how she will be defiled."
"Our master sent us down the mountain to execute this lecher. If we sisters run into him, we will flay his skin and pound his bones, making him regret ever coming into this mortal world."
The women spoke with growing resentment, their words turning ever more vicious. Wang Chong listened, trembling with fear. Even the hot bathwater no longer felt comfortable. He hurriedly finished bathing, changed into the new scholar's attire he had bought, and instead of eating first, took out the rouge and powder. He had once, to accompany his seventh ex-girlfriend to a comic convention and cosplay, been forced to learn a couple of Asia's number one demonic arts.
Wang Chong first changed his hairstyle, from a warrior's topknot to a scholar's topknot. Then he applied rouge and powder, added eyeshadow, making his face look even paler, like a pale pretty boy with weak qi and blood who pores over poetry books. Although his makeup skills were ordinary, in this ancient society they could already be called divine. After grooming, he looked like a completely different person.
He had originally wanted to make himself up as a one-eyed dragon, but now it was not easy to manage. After all, going in with piercing eyes and coming out as a one-eyed fiend, anyone would guess something was wrong. As for growing a beard or tanning his skin, no need to mention it—there wasn't enough time. He could only do it hastily this way, aiming for: the shopkeeper finds him familiar, while strangers find him unfamiliar.
He again activated his internal force, crumbling the original body's clothes into powder, all thrown under the bed.
After traveling for a day, Wang Chong was also a bit hungry. When he had finished these miscellaneous tasks and was eating heartily, he heard a woman's gentle voice from outside the courtyard: "Is the young master there?"
He forced himself to stay calm and shouted: "This humble one is a righteous gentleman. Miss, please return."
Outside the door, a woman laughed lightly. Butterflies fluttered, colored wings soared into the sky. Several women successively vaulted over the wall, landing in the courtyard. Each was extremely beautiful, like fairy maidens banished to the mortal world.
Wang Chong showed a face of alarm and called out: "Are you mountain demons who have cultivated into form, wanting to abduct handsome men? I, who have long read poetry books, have within my breast a stock of righteous qi. I absolutely will not allow you demons to approach."
The women laughed until they bent forward and backward, giggling merrily. A woman born with eyebrows meeting at the temples, tall and slender, the most spirited among them, said: "We are cultivators from Mount Qingcheng, not mountain essences or tree ghosts. This time we came only to ask a few questions."
Beside them, the youngest, a pink-clad maiden of only thirteen or fourteen, said: "Second Senior Sister, this frail young master does not look like a lecher."
Wang Chong put on a show of sudden anger and shouted: "I am a righteous gentleman, a person well-read in poetry books. How dare you insult me as a lecher? Truly a disgrace to literature, a disgrace to literature."
The double-eyebrowed, tall and slender, most spirited Second Senior Sister smiled slightly, extremely gently, and said: "We, obeying our master's orders, are currently capturing the lecher White Chrysanthemum. If the young master is not him, we sisters would not hesitate to apologize."
Wang Chong shouted: "I am naturally not. Such words that ruin my reputation—do not mention them again, do not mention them again."
The pink-clad maiden turned her eyes slightly and said: "The young master claims to be a scholar. Let me test you. If you can compose a poem for our sisters' visit, then I will believe you are not a lecher, and will pour tea to apologize."
Wang Chong wore an angry expression on his face, but in his mind he was thinking: which poem fits the occasion that I can copy?
His mind turned extremely fast. Then he chanted:
On the third day of the third month, the weather is fresh;
Vaulting walls into the garden, many beautiful women.
Her bearing intense, her meaning distant, virtuous and true;
Her skin fine, her flesh evenly proportioned.
Embroidered silk clothes reflect the late spring;
Gold-embroidered peacocks and silver qilin.
What does she have on her head? Kingfisher leaves hanging by her temples and lips.
What is seen behind her? Pearls pressing the waist fold of her garment, properly fitting her body.
After pondering a moment, he came up with another:
Mount Nine-Ling is too wondrous;
Where she dwells, the gardens of Kunlun.
A city of a thousand li, twelve jade towers;
The halls of Qionghua, the halls of Radiant Azure;
Nine-storied dark chambers, purple cinnabar rooms.
To the left bordering Jade Pool,
To the right circling emerald waters.
There is a heavenly maiden, born from ice and rivers,
Flying and soaring...
The primal force of extreme yin,
Positioned to match the west...
The women looked at this man: his face was one of flustered anger, but the verses he chanted were graceful and transcendent, unheard of, the wording splendid—but... all were unfinished endings.
The youngest pink-clad maiden, charmingly naive, asked: "The young master's verses are indeed not vulgar, but why are they incomplete?"
Wang Chong said resentfully: "Composing poetry is the act of elegant men. In such straits, where could there be any mood? I casually made a few sentences just to deal with you all."
"Now can this serve as proof that I am a scholar?"
"That lecher could not have such literary talent."
The women looked at one another and immediately believed eight or nine tenths of it. They had heard from the shopkeeper that the courtyard next door housed a single man. Worried about missing the lecher, they had come to inquire. They were from the Qingcheng Sect. Their master, before becoming a nun, the Red Sleeve Goddess Nun, had been a famous talented woman under heaven. The disciples she taught were also versed in both literature and martial arts.
Especially Second Senior Sister Zi Qing Jade Maiden Chu Qiuzi, who excelled in writing. In her lifetime, poetry and prose were her greatest strength. Her reputation as a talented woman spread throughout the world. She had once, on the Lijiang, competed in poetry and defeated dozens of scholars.
Wang Chong's few "composed" lines of poetry—they could all hear the wonder in them and were fully convinced. Especially that this person claimed to have done them casually while in straits, which made it even more remarkable.
Chu Qiuzi, leading her junior sisters, gave a graceful bow and said softly: "Qingcheng's Chu Qiuzi, accompanied by my junior sisters, apologizes to the young master."
Wang Chong secretly wiped away sweat and said carelessly: "No need for apologies. You can all withdraw."
But Chu Qiuzi did not withdraw. Her jade face brightened slightly, and she said: "The young master's poetry can be called top-grade. I do not know when it could be completed, so that we sisters might hear it in full."
Wang Chong gave a cold laugh and said: "No mood. I can't complete it."
He paused, then said: "But there is another poem that can be called complete. I'll give it to you all."
Light gauze and small fan, white magnolia;
Slender waist, jade belt, dancing in heavenly gauze.
Newly suspecting a fairy maiden vaulting over the wall,
Looking back with a smile—a she-devil.
After finishing this poem, Wang Chong flicked his wide sleeve, returned to his room, and bolted the door. He thought: "If these women become extremely angry, they probably would fight. And me too—why did I have to satirize them at the end? Clearly it was all covered up."
The youngest pink-clad maiden, hearing the first two lines, was still longingly yearning. But when she heard "looking back with a smile—a she-devil," she went "pfft" and laughed out loud. Then realizing it wasn't quite right—this was clearly satirizing them sisters—she resentfully said: "This sour young master actually still slanders us sisters as she-devils."
But Chu Qiuzi did not get angry. She cast a dim glance at the room door and said: "Let's go! Don't provoke people's annoyance anymore."
The several senior and junior sisters this time did not vault the wall. They pushed open the courtyard door and wandered out leisurely, like a group of touring fairies, returning with their interest spent.
Wang Chong waited a long time, then looked again through the crack in the door. Seeing no one coming to seek redress from him, he let out a big sigh of relief. He got into bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep, and again began to ponder his martial arts.
...Wang Chong: Toad, you leaked the truth in advance. Am I ultimately a lecher or not?...
...Chu Qiuzi: King Xiang had a dream, the goddess was deeply affectionate, my heart was stirred...",
Chapter 9