The Night Journey in Splendid Robes

Liu Laodao did not much care what this bargain-basement disciple had done. Right now, he was busy chanting like a monk reciting scripture: "What do I do, what do I do?"

Li Yunxin leaned close beside him and gently poked him with a finger. "Master."

Liu Laodao shot him a miserable glance. "Ah, disciple. Your master can barely save himself right now. If you have any other ideas..."

"Do you know The Night Journey in Splendid Robes?"

"Ah?"

"'The Night Journey in Splendid Robes'—in the early years when the mighty Emperor Xiang Yu of Great Chu first raised his army, he was defeated at Gaixia and lost his beloved wife. He later devoted himself to rebuilding for twelve years, led his army to crush the enemy capital, and established his rule over the realm. But by then, everyone he cared about had already died. Though he possessed an empire that would endure for a thousand autumns, there was no one left to share it with. So, on a snowy night, clad in a cloud-brocade robe embroidered with golden dragons, he rode alone for three hundred li through the night to Gaixia to mourn his dead wife. Later, a master of the Painting Dao created this painting. You must know it, right?"

Li Yunxin spoke with perfect clarity, as though he were chatting over cups of wine beside a clear stream on some mild, sunny afternoon. But in their present circumstances, that state of mind was far too bizarre.

Liu Laodao stared blankly at him for quite a while before finally opening his mouth. "You... you... how did you know..."

"I told you before that I quite liked being a painter—it's a promising profession. So it's no big deal that I know this painting. Now look over there. Yes, there. Squint and look by the firelight. Those marks on the ground—I made them with my feet when I walked over and back just now."

Liu Laodao was filled with astonishment, unable to understand how this boy had suddenly become a different person. Yet he still instinctively squinted in the direction Li Yunxin had secretly indicated.

Though he was not one of those great sect cultivators with profound magic power, since he styled himself as one of Luo City's "Five Great Masters" of painting, he naturally understood what he ought to understand. After studying it by the firelight for a while, Liu Laodao's eyes widened slightly.

He turned to stare at Li Yunxin, his voice becoming stammering. "This... this... just who are you..."

"Mm, all of you like asking who I really am." Li Yunxin patted his arm, signaling him to relax. "But let's not discuss that for now. So you can tell that what I drew over there was The Night Journey in Splendid Robes. But it isn't finished yet. The Night Journey in Splendid Robes is Gongbi painting. I used the Xieyi method and sketched out a few strokes, capturing its spirit."

"I understand, understand..." Liu Laodao snapped out of his slight daze. He realized that he might have stumbled into extraordinary luck. Being kidnapped here by six tough men certainly did not count as good fortune, but compared with the boy before him... that misfortune was simply too insignificant to mention.

Painters divided their works into Gongbi and Xieyi. Gongbi paintings were meticulous and exquisite, revealing every hair and thread, with the scenery within rendered lifelike. Xieyi paintings were bold and free, ink and color flying across the page, placing greater emphasis on charm and Artistic Realm.

Among ordinary people, there was no distinction of superiority between Gongbi and Xieyi painting. But for painters, someone might use a Gongbi painting to portray a sixteen-year-old beauty with vivid lifelikeness, yet still be unable to use Xieyi painting to bring out her unique charm.

But this boy before him... with the Xieyi technique, using only a few sparse strokes... had captured the spirit of that celebrated masterpiece!

From those few strokes alone, one could sense how smooth and unhindered they were—the person who laid down the brush had used his soul as a guide, already planning every trace of spiritual power across the "painting scroll." Once the painting was completed, all that remained was to use the Qi Sea within his body to draw in the spiritual energy of heaven and earth and pour it into those paths. Then a painting that only an Artistic Realm master could create would be complete!

Liu Laodao had once been fortunate enough to see a masterpiece by a great master. Every stroke in that work had been deeply significant—much like the talismans of Daoists, where each line and stroke guided the spiritual power of heaven and earth into the painting.

People said that Artistic Realm painters could make viewers feel as though they stood within the scene itself, but fundamentally, they used brush and ink to construct something akin to talismans. Whether one could do it well depended on one's cultivation and the subtlety of one's skill!

But these few strokes from the boy...

Liu Laodao felt that they might be even more brilliant than the masterpiece by that great master he had seen that day...

What kind of person was he?

He hurriedly seized Li Yunxin's hand. "This humble one failed to recognize Mount Tai before his eyes. All that talk about taking you as a disciple earlier—ah, none of it counted! Young master, at such a young age, you have already attained such extraordinary skill. Might I ask which Household you belong to—"

"Don't rush. Listen to me first." Li Yunxin gently pushed his hand away. "There's something wrong with my body. I can't add the finishing touch to the eyes."

The so-called "adding the finishing touch to the eyes of the dragon" referred to the crucial final stroke after a painting was completed. That stroke guided the spiritual energy of heaven and earth into the paths outlined by the brushwork in the painting. As for where to place it and how to place it, only the painter himself knew. But Li Yunxin's Qi Sea was sealed, so he could not complete that final step.

"I can't add the finishing touch, so you'll do it." Li Yunxin pointed toward the swordsman with high cheekbones and narrow brows beside the other bonfire. "Right there, one stroke is missing—the sword of the mighty emperor in the painting."

Liu Laodao opened his mouth, drawing his neck back. "Um... great master, this little Daoist's cultivation is shallow..."

"Aren't you one of Luo City's five great masters of the Artistic Realm?"

"That was a joke, a joke. How could I possibly compare to you..."

"Actually, it's enough already."

"I'm afraid I'll ruin your great undertaking..."

"I'm not afraid."

"Great master, why must you make things difficult for this little Daoist..."

"Do you want to die?" Li Yunxin stared at him.

"...Uh." The two had been speaking one sentence after another in rapid succession, but at those words, every remaining argument Liu Laodao had caught in his throat.

"This isn't a game, and I'm not playing games with you either." Li Yunxin's expression became solemn, his tone no longer as relaxed as before. "They really are going to kill people. Right now, they're merely waiting for someone or something. The moment they make up their minds to kill, not a single person here will escape. I can't escape, and neither can you. So doing this now means saving yourself. If you succeed, you'll also earn the gratitude of those people over there. I don't know how your Dongxuan Sect is getting by in Luo City, but it certainly can't be better than they are. So whether you want your own life and their favor depends on whether you go add that stroke."

Liu Laodao had lived for several decades, but he had never encountered such a perilous situation. Now, seeing this formerly ordinary boy turn into a mysterious man of profound cultivation, his throat felt dry and his legs weak. The bonfire crackled not far away. Farther off, the six swordsmen were quietly discussing something, occasionally turning their heads to glance this way.

"Great master, you... but how am I supposed to get there?" Liu Laodao felt a little cold, yet sweat seemed ready to seep out all over his body. He wiped his forehead. "Besides, this The Night Journey in Splendid Robes... it doesn't seem useful at a time like this."

"You'll know when the time comes." Li Yunxin patted his shoulder. "Go. Sooner or later, you'll have to go, and you know that yourself."

Of course Liu Laodao knew. Having lived to his age, however timid he might be, he could still distinguish what was urgent from what was important. Unless someone was cowardly beyond all cure, they would always reach out and seize hope when it appeared. Besides, he felt that this boy concealed unfathomable depths—perhaps he could solve the problem himself, but his playful nature had risen and he wanted to "have some fun."

As he said this to himself, he swayed to his feet. After taking three deep breaths, he had completely entered his usual state.

The state he was in whenever he fooled those nouveau riche landlords of Luo City.

As the night wind rose, his tattered Daoist robe flapped loudly, and both bonfires dimmed slightly. Liu Laodao's features were not bad to begin with. Though he could not be called imposing with wealth and nobility, heroic and towering, he still possessed a certain bearing. Now, tense enough to wear a stiff face, he silently took several steps toward the swordsmen, and all six of them grew alert.

"What are you doing? Get back!"

"Esteemed heroes, please hear a word from me," Liu Laodao said. "This humble one is Hunyuanzi of the Dongxuan Sect."

After saying that, he took another two steps forward. "I have a modest reputation in this martial world as well. As for today's matter, let this old Daoist discuss it with you esteemed heroes—"

The swordsman with high cheekbones and narrow eyes frowned slightly. "Dongxuan Sect?"

He examined Liu Laodao carefully. "The Dao Tradition's Dongxuan Sect?"

Liu Laodao stroked his beard and smiled. "Heh heh, not quite, but not far off either. This poor Daoist's Dongxuan Sect is the Dongxuan Sect of Luo City. What we cultivate is also the orthodox Mystic Sect art passed down by the supreme Celestial Human—"

Hearing this, the swordsman snorted, half amused and half irritated. "So you're this sort of scum from the martial world. Take one more step, and I'll break your legs."

At that moment, Liu Laodao was only two steps away from where he needed to add the finishing stroke. He forced himself to continue. "All Daoist sects under heaven are one family. Back in those days, I—"

Before he could finish, a sharp howl split the air. The forest had been dim to begin with, lit only by the murky yellow glow of the two bonfires, but even that seemed swallowed by the surrounding mist and wilderness. Along with that shriek came a streak of snow-bright light.

A slender sword stabbed into the ground beside Liu Laodao. Its hilt continued trembling, emitting a humming buzz.

A great spray of dirt and dead leaves flew up. Liu Laodao shuddered in fright and dropped onto the ground on his backside. By sheer coincidence, he landed exactly where that finishing stroke needed to be placed.

The swordsman gave him a disdainful glance and snorted. "Get lost already!"

Liu Laodao looked at the sword, then scrambled and clawed across the ground with both hands and feet before fleeing back to the bonfire in utter embarrassment.

At this moment, the escort agency men had no mind to mock or ridicule this master and disciple pair who had made such fools of themselves—their eyes were all fixed on the sword that had flown in from nowhere.

The sword was identical in form to those held by the swordsmen, clearly not sent by reinforcements. A slip of paper was skewered upon its blade, covered in tiny neat characters. It was obviously a message delivered by flying sword.

Whether messages were sent by carrier pigeon or flying dart, such methods were commonly used by people of the martial world. A flying sword was not necessarily anything remarkable. But what was terrifying was that no one had seen the person who threw this sword. At least in the eyes of the escort agency men, such skill had already reached an unimaginable height.

"It's done." Li Yunxin smiled in the flickering, uncertain firelight and patted Liu Laodao's arm. "You've got a play to act out. I guarantee you'll like it." Note: Xieyi, commonly known as "freehand brushwork," stands in contrast to Gongbi. It is a technique of Chinese painting that uses concise, unrestrained brushwork to emphasize the bearing and spirit of the subject. Xieyi painting is one of the fundamental forms of Chinese painting, alongside Gongbi. Qi Baishi's famous Shrimp paintings were Xieyi works, as were Xu Beihong's galloping horses. The celebrated Along the River During the Qingming Festival is a work that combines Gongbi and Xieyi.