What? A true disciple of one of the Six Sects and Four Schools, backed by multiple guards, couldn't even catch an ordinary-looking stalker? Ding Songyan had harbored immense expectations for Ren Youyang, and hearing this, a surge of deep frustration and disappointment welled up inside him.
He did not let it show on his face, cupping his hands instead.
"Regardless, I still owe you my thanks, Brother Youyang. If not for you, I wouldn't have even realized I was being followed."
Ren Youyang said rather sheepishly, "It wasn't just one person—they were a crew. I overlooked that, so we got separated and shaken off in the bustling market."
A crew? Had his predecessor attracted them, or had he stirred them up over the past few days? Ding Songyan was taken aback.
"They were spooked by me, so they shouldn't be tailing you again anytime soon." Ren Youyang glanced toward the courtyard wall to the side of Chengyu Lane. "That Yu Wanxiong from Zhen Manor is keeping his distance as well, likely not wanting me to notice him. Hmm, looks like they've swapped in another retained expert. They certainly take you seriously."
Before Ding Songyan could offer further thanks, Ren Youyang reassured him, "Rest well tonight. I'll check on things again tomorrow."
With that, he waved a hand and turned to leave. Ding Songyan could only call out his thanks from afar.
Ding Songyan made his way down the dim yet lively lane, nodding in greeting to an elderly neighbor who had left his courtyard gate open to catch the evening breeze. Arriving home, he pushed open the unlatched courtyard gate to see Ding Daniu, shirtless and showing his dark, muscular torso, swinging a rough iron rod in the modest open yard. There were no elaborate stances—just simple sweeps, strikes, whips, and cleaves, each cutting through the air with a fierce whistle.
Inside the main hall, his mother, Liu Yuzao, and his younger sister, Ding Qingyan, were stitching shoe soles by an oil lamp, murmuring softly to each other now and then. His father, Ding Shengyi, sat on a stool with eyes half-closed, swaying his head as he hummed lines from a zaju opera.
Yellowish light spilled from the house, sometimes still and sometimes flickering, spreading outward like water and drawing a flurry of dancing moths and mosquitoes.
Ding Songyan let out a slow breath and greeted his family with a smile.
***
Before going to bed, Ding Songyan opened the wooden chest where he kept his clothes. The five taels of silver and three hundred copper coins he had earned from storytelling were hidden inside. Miss Xiaoqing had contributed five taels of that silver; at the current exchange rate, each tael was worth eight hundred wen.
It wasn't that the other listeners were stingy. Ding Songyan had only performed for four days, just one session each day. Bringing in over three hundred wen already made him an outstanding success among his peers at the Duokang Temple market.
It only seemed meager because Miss Xiaoqing gave so absurdly much.
"My father earns only two taels a month as a yamen clerk—well, not counting under-the-table income..." In the inner sleeve pocket behind his elbow, Ding Songyan still carried the four-tenths of a tael his parents had given him; over the past few days, the tips he gave while listening to storytellers and his midday meals had come from the fifty wen his sister gave him plus a portion of his storytelling earnings.
After placing the heavy twenty-five-tael silver ingot Xu Chang'an gave him into the clothes chest, he picked out four silver ingots.
After a moment's thought, he took the last one as well, rounding it up to five taels.
Returning to the main hall, he found Ding Daniu just dropping the door bolt in place.
"Eldest Brother, Xu Chang'an gave this to thank us for helping him yesterday." Ding Songyan shoved the five silver ingots into his hands.
Ding Daniu beamed with pleasant surprise. "Xu Dalang certainly knows how to conduct himself. I'll take this to Mother."
"Keep it for yourself," Ding Songyan said, echoing Ren Youyang's favorite saying. "Life is short, so don't mistreat yourself. Take this money and eat and drink well every midday."
He hoped Ding Daniu would realize that life offered much broader horizons, replacing his thirst for killing with a desire for good wine and fine food.
Of course, it was best not to mix the three together.
Ding Daniu was silent for quite a while before saying, "All right, Erlang. You're smarter than me, so I'll listen to you. I'll save it first."
"Save it for what?" Ding Songyan chuckled casually.
Ding Daniu gulped. "Save it to go to Beili Ward."
"..." Ding Songyan's expression nearly froze.
Good grief, Daniu, who would have thought? You actually have that kind of vice.
Waving his hand, he returned to the western wing and closed the wooden door.
As usual, he stacked the large wooden chests, laid out paper, ink, and inkstone, and prepared to write the story of Xu Shilin.
That copy of The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas had long since been hidden between his bedding and the bed slats.
"Second Brother, burning the lamp late into the night to write again?" From behind the screen, Ding Qingyan spoke with amusement and fond wonder. "You were never this diligent before..."
As she spoke, she caught herself, seemingly feeling it was tactless to bring up something that might remind him of his soul-departing illness.
"If someone gave you one or two taels of silver every day just to hear you tell stories, you'd be this diligent too," Ding Songyan brushed it off casually.
One or two taels was important, but what mattered more was that the person would come knocking to demand the next installment—and most importantly, he couldn't beat her in a fight.
"Who is it?" Ding Qingyan pressed curiously.
"A lady from out of town. She's extraordinarily generous—as long as the storytelling is good, she always rewards silver. She's spent several dozen taels these past few days," Ding Songyan pulled up a small wooden chest, sat down, and spoke truthfully.
"So generous." Ding Qingyan couldn't help comparing herself. "Is she pretty?"
"Quite pretty," Ding Songyan replied, unwilling to lie against his conscience.
Ding Qingyan gave a soft hum, asking with a playful tease, "Taken a fancy to her?"
"Certainly not," Ding Songyan answered just as frankly.
Inwardly, he added:
I'm afraid of snakes.
Besides, he still had unresolved knots in his heart.
After chatting a while into the night, as Ding Qingyan drifted off to sleep, Ding Songyan began weaving his tale.
This installment focused on Xu Shilin's childhood: conveying the bittersweet reality where all the neighbors knew his birth parents weren't by his side while he remained completely oblivious, and portraying how the Military Star differed from ordinary children. Ding Songyan racked his brains, piecing together plot points one by one. Harry Potter and similar stories served as inspiration, though Xu Shilin's aunt and uncle treated him very well, of course.
Just as he finished a page and set it aside, a jade-white, slender, and delicate hand reached out and took it straight away.
"You're here, Miss Xiaoqing?" Having grown accustomed to this, Ding Songyan wasn't startled in the slightest.
"Mhm. Keep writing." Dressed today in a green gown with a fresh, ethereal air, Xiaoqing sat by the bed, intently reading the draft manuscript, disinclined to chat.
Seeing this, Ding Songyan didn't dare disturb her and concentrated on writing.
As he wrote, a thought crossed his mind:
Given Ren Youyang's performance today, was he really a disciple of the Zhenling Sect? Was he truly the Ren Youyang named on the Orchid Newcomer Ranks?
Ding Songyan hadn't doubted him before because the man had been treated with great deference at Zhen Manor, his identity effectively authenticated by Old Master Zhen. Yet recalling all kinds of confidence tricks from his previous life, there was no shortage of charlatans who seized opportunities to forge brief ties with high-ranking figures just to win the trust of others.
Of course, Ren Youyang's conspicuously obvious dog ears also served as circumstantial proof of an extraordinary background.
But what if he was simply a half-breed between the Quanrong and humans?
—According to the storybooks Ding Songyan had listened to over the past few days, the Quanrong resembled dogs and could bear offspring with humans.
"Miss Xiaoqing, have you ever heard of someone named Ren Youyang?" Ding Songyan ventured tentatively.
Xiaoqing, who was reading a fresh page, snapped her head up. "I have. What do you want to ask?"
Ding Songyan chose his words carefully. "I met someone today who claims to be Ren Youyang, but..."
He described Ren Youyang's conduct earlier in full detail, leaving out only the sharp critique of the Martial World Jade Tree Ranking—having promised not to repeat it. As for the stalkers, he only mentioned one for now: the one Ren Youyang had lost.
After listening, Xiaoqing couldn't hide her amusement. "That's the real Ren Youyang, the one from the Zhenling Sect. No impostor could ever capture his true essence."
"What true essence?" Ding Songyan asked in confusion.
Xiaoqing giggled. "The true essence of Ren Youyang is that the real thing seems faker than a fake. Well, it's completely normal that he failed to catch that stalker or unmask the mastermind. He's dead weight. If he hadn't been there, his guards would have caught the man long ago."
"Ah?" Ding Songyan was somewhat baffled.
What kind of evaluation was that?
Xiaoqing offered an "er": "His cultivation art isn't particularly suited for this sort of thing."
She didn't elaborate... Ding Songyan thought thoughtfully.
It seemed that among the prestigious orthodox sects, the names of their core foundational arts were no secret and could be mentioned freely. But when it came to the specific characteristics, strengths, and weaknesses of each art, they were at most discussed behind closed doors within the sect and never shared outside; doing so would make bitter enemies.
Just then, Xiaoqing's mood seemed to brighten considerably. She said in a lively tone, "So the Zhenling Sect sent Ren Youyang! Now Second Uncle can't say I'm fooling around sneaking out at night—I've scouted some crucial intelligence!"
"Miss Xiaoqing, you..." Ding Songyan didn't know quite how to ask.
"Our purpose in Dingjiang Prefecture is roughly the same as the Zhenling Sect's," Xiaoqing said with a grin, offering just a hint without revealing more.
Connected to Zhen Manor as well? Good thing I didn't mention that Zhen Manor people were tailing me too, or who knows if Xiaoqing would have turned hostile... Ding Songyan prudently brought the subject to a close, while Xiaoqing muttered musingly to herself, "Tomorrow, I'll try to help you catch that stalker and the mastermind behind him too."
A long while later, Ding Songyan finally reached the point where Xu Shilin learned who his birth parents were and went to a Daoist temple to seek Xu Xian, only to be turned away at the gates.
Setting down his brush and rubbing his wrist, he watched Xiaoqing pick up the sheets to read, asking as if casually, "I heard someone mention The Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas the other day. Is that something only great sects, prestigious schools, and the imperial vaults possess?"
"Mhm. Parts of it," Xiaoqing replied, more absorbed in Xu Shilin's family drama.
"Does any sect have the complete text?" Ding Songyan refrained from asking directly whether the Xiaoming Sect had a complete version, as that would be too pointed.
Moved by the scene between Xu Shilin and Xu Xian, Xiaoqing sniffled and said, "No one has the complete version. Years ago in the Kunlun Imperial Palace, under dire urgency, the various sections of The Sovereign's Annotated Classic of Mountains and Seas were inscribed on different jade tablets scattered across different halls. Those present could only memorize fragments, and some even memorized them incorrectly. If everyone had later put aside sectarian prejudice to cross-reference, piece them together, and correct the errors, there might have been a complete Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas. But truly selfless people are far too rare. What circulates in the jianghu was leaked after certain sects fell into ruin, making them even more fragmented, and no sect or school would tolerate private hoarding."
Ding Songyan was stunned by what he heard.
Over the past two days, I browsed the ordinary Classic of Mountains and Seas in bookstores and compared its contents with the book in my hands. Combining that with Chen Yuliang's assessment, my Esoteric Classic of Mountains and Seas seems... probably... possibly complete...
At the very least, nearly complete...
Chapter 24