Lan Tianye's Visit

After leaving the Thousand Gold Pavilion, Lan Tianye led the horse and carriage he had won back, following behind Chen Qing with his head nearly bowed to his chest. His face burned, and shame weighed heavily on him.

When they reached a secluded spot outside town, he could hold back no longer. He stopped abruptly and bowed deeply toward Chen Qing's back, his voice choked with emotion. "Brother Chen! I... I was bewitched today and caused a terrible disaster. I nearly made a grave mistake! Thank you for helping me recover my losses! Fengmian... Fengmian has betrayed your trust! Please punish me, Brother Chen!"

Chen Qing turned and looked at him. The setting sun stretched his shadow long; the back that was usually so straight now brimmed with remorse.

"Money, silver, horses, and carriages are all external things." Chen Qing's voice remained even, yet carried a force that pierced the heart. "What if it had been your life—or someone else's—that you lost today?"

Lan Tianye shuddered all over and bowed his head even lower.

"The jianghu is treacherous, and its dangers aren't limited to flashing blades and swords. Losing the trust of others is far harder to make amends for than losing money," Chen Qing said. "Remember today's lesson."

Lan Tianye felt as though a sudden shower had washed over his mind. He nodded heavily. Much of his former arrogance had faded, and his eyes had grown considerably steadier. "Fengmian... will remember your teaching, Brother Chen!"

After this incident, Lan Tianye became much quieter. Chen Qing knew he needed time to process what had happened, so he said no more.

Before leaving Zeyun Town, Chen Qing found a small instrument shop. Remembering A Ning's reaction to the sound of the flute, he went inside and picked out a bamboo flute of decent quality. He also asked an elderly man in the shop who was skilled with the flute for pointers on how to play it.

That night, the moon was bright and the stars sparse. The caravan camped at an abandoned Mountain God Temple on the outskirts of town.

A bonfire blazed. A Ning sat against a bed of dry grass, quietly watching the flames dance. Nearby, Lan Tianye silently wiped down his curved saber, his expression intent, as if he was still reflecting on what had happened during the day.

Chen Qing took out the new bamboo flute and followed what he had learned earlier, bringing the holes to his lips. His fingertips made slight adjustments as a trace of Starforce flowed naturally through him—not to drive the melody, but to control, with utmost precision, every breath between his lips and teeth and every ounce of pressure from his fingers.

A Ning listened, entranced, her eyes wide as she gazed at Chen Qing. The bonfire and moonlight were reflected in them, shimmering.

She listened with such rapt attention that, without realizing it, she slowly inched closer to Chen Qing until she was nestled against his side, her little head resting lightly on his arm. It was as if she drew some indescribable sense of comfort from the flute's melody.

Lan Tianye stopped polishing his saber and watched the scene, taking in Chen Qing's focused, serene profile. He couldn't help feeling that his taciturn companion had grown even more unfathomable.

He was a formidable martial artist, meticulous in his thinking, and now he seemed to be able to master music at a glance... Just how many hidden talents did he have?

The lingering notes of the flute drifted softly into the night wind.

Chen Qing turned his head toward A Ning, nestled at his side.

"A Ning," he said, his voice gentler than usual, "would you like me to teach you a tune?"

A Ning looked up at him. Little flames danced in her eyes, and she gave a small nod.

Just as the scene settled into peaceful quiet, a strange laugh rang out from beyond the temple, shattering the stillness of the night.

"Impressive, lad! You're not only a master at the gambling table, you've got hidden depths when you play the flute, too! You use the melody to regulate your breath—almost one with the Dao! I'm itching to test you. If we don't have a bout, I doubt I'll sleep tonight!"

Before his voice had even faded, a gray figure darted into the ruined temple and, with a flicker of movement, came to a halt beside the fire. It was the scruffy old Daoist from the Thousand Gold Pavilion that afternoon—Old Daoist Wu!

He was still dressed in rags, but his little eyes now shone brightly, and the aura around him was as deep as the sea. Not a trace remained of his former sleazy, slippery manner. He had the bearing of a hidden master! Clearly, he had followed them all this way and seen that Chen Qing was a master of extraordinary skill. He hadn't been satisfied by the afternoon's gamble and was determined to test the depth of Chen Qing's martial arts!

Lan Tianye went pale with shock. He sprang up in an instant, drawing his curved saber halfway and stepping in front of Chen Qing and A Ning. "It's you! What do you want?!"

Chen Qing slowly lowered the bamboo flute, then patted the back of A Ning's hand. Startled, she had instinctively grabbed the hem of his clothing. He looked calmly at Old Daoist Wu. He sensed that although the man's aura was powerful, he harbored no murderous intent—only the competitive eagerness of a hunter who had spotted worthy prey.

"You've come back, senior. What do you want?" Chen Qing asked calmly.

Old Daoist Wu chuckled and rubbed his hands together. "You won a round at the gambling table this afternoon. But that was a mere trick, not a true display of skill. I can tell you have an excellent Root Bone and a steady, restrained aura. You're no ordinary man! Come, come! Let's put our skills to the test! Let this old man see what you can really do!"

Lan Tianye looked at Chen Qing nervously.

Chen Qing fell silent for a moment, then asked, "How shall we compete?"

"Simple!" Old Daoist Wu's eyes lit up. "No restrictions—fists, weapons, inner force, footwork, whatever you've got. We'll stop before anyone gets hurt! If you can withstand thirty moves from me, you win! I'll turn right around and leave, and I won't bother you again! But if you can't..." He grinned like an old fox that had stolen a chicken. "You'll agree to one condition of mine. For instance... you can tell me who your master is and where you come from?"

Chen Qing looked at the tense Lan Tianye and A Ning nestled beside him, then at the eager-to-fight Old Daoist Wu. Knowing the contest was unavoidable, he slowly rose to his feet.

Chen Qing fell silent for a moment and glanced at A Ning beside him. Then he suddenly said, "My tune happens to be missing someone to hear it. Someone without inner force will think it's just an ordinary melody, but the deeper their inner force, the greater its effect. Since you're in the mood, senior, why don't we use this tune as our contest?"

Old Daoist Wu was taken aback, then his eyes shone with excitement. "A contest of inner force? Good! Even more interesting! Let's hear what's so special about your tune!"

Chen Qing brought the bamboo flute to his lips once more and said softly to A Ning:

"Watch closely. This is how you play this tune."