Chapter 145: Chapter 145
It took a full hour to copy out the Dragon-Elephant Golden Body Art. He stored the transcript safely and tucked the original into his robe.
After lunch, he walked Shen Momo to her tutor’s.
The little girl bounced along ahead, cloth satchel on her back. At the schoolyard gate, her round face split into a beaming smile, and she waved at Shen Xiuhan.
“Gege, I’m off to school!”
“Go on!”
Shen Xiuhan watched her scamper inside, then turned and headed for Mei Hall, intending to ask Jiang Qinghong about the two mystery pill-vials.
He hadn’t gone far when a tremor pulsed from inside his robe.
His expression shifted. He ducked into a quiet alley and fished out the source.
The Four Seas Heart-Link Disc!
On the palm-sized jade disc, several blue dots orbited his white marker, pulsing softly.
‘Xiao Wu…’
Shen Xiuhan understood at once.
After leaving the Wang estate, Xiao Wu had said he would contact everyone through the Disc once he’d gathered proof on the Bai family. This must be the moment.
Without hesitation, Shen Xiuhan followed the guiding signal.
Two streets over, he stopped outside a restaurant.
Drunken Immortal Tower!
Three gilt characters hung high on the lintel, calligraphy bold and elegant.
The restaurant stood three stories tall — upswept eaves, carved beams, painted rafters — one of the inner city’s oldest and most storied establishments.
Shen Xiuhan had been here once before. Back when he was still an outer-court disciple at Mei Hall, the Luo clan’s branch-member Luo Qiaoqian had invited him here, angling to recruit him.
He’d refused.
He hadn’t expected to end up here after all.
Crossing the threshold.
The interior was spacious and serene — landscape scrolls on every wall, a large celadon cistern in one corner where a few koi drifted lazily.
A waiter spotted him at once and hurried over with a grin. “What’ll it be, sir?”
Shen Xiuhan waved him off. He’d already noticed a figure by the staircase, beckoning to him.
“Brother Shen, over here.”
Shen Xiuhan walked up and studied the man without being obvious.
The stranger wore martial attire, his face masked. Hard to read — except for a conspicuously empty right eye-socket that lent him a certain fierce air.
“Song Huatang, at your service…”
The man’s voice was hoarse, his manner warm. He clasped his fists.
“At the feast, I watched Brother Shen’s swordplay alongside Brother Xiao Wu. Truly formidable!”
Song Huatang…
The son of Tongbei Martial Hall’s former hall master, Song Hengjiang!
Recognition clicked. Back then, Han Li had personally gone to Tongbei Hall to cripple Zhao Honggang — precisely to rescue this man.
“Brother Song — a pleasure.” Shen Xiuhan returned the salute.
“Too kind, Brother Shen.”
Song Huatang managed a thin smile and stepped aside. “Please — upstairs. Brother Xiao Wu is waiting.”
Shen Xiuhan nodded and climbed the stairs.
Pushing through the bamboo curtain of the second-floor private room, he found pale blue silk panels on the walls, a hanging scroll of a misty river-scene, and a lattice window overlooking the busy street below.
A round table at the center held dishes of fresh fruit and pastries, plus two celadon wine-jugs.
Four people were already inside.
Xiao Wen sat at a side-seat, pouring tea and wine for the others.
Ji Ning leaned by the window, black sword at his hip, gaze on the street outside.
Luo Tangyin occupied the chair to Xiao Wu’s right — pale lavender skirt, hair swept high — nibbling a pastry in silence.
“Brother Shen — welcome!”
Xiao Wu poured him a cup of wine the moment he appeared, grinning.
“Just two more to come. Have a seat.”
Shen Xiuhan found a corner spot and settled in, lifting the cup for a small sip.
Pear Blossom White — top-grade. Smooth going down, sweet on the finish.
He waited about the time it took to drink a cup of tea before footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Han Li arrived first.
Same blue robe as always. He offered a general salute and sat down without a word.
Shortly after, a broad-shouldered figure swept the curtain aside and entered.
The moment Shen Xiuhan saw who it was, his gaze sharpened.
His own senior brother.
Wang Lin!
He’d been wondering when the man would surface — and now here he was, with the Dragon-Elephant Golden Body Art burning a hole in Shen Xiuhan’s pocket.
What surprised him more was that Wang Lin evidently knew Xiao Wu.
And that Xiao Wu had summoned him here — meaning Wang Lin also carried a Four Seas Heart-Link Disc. Their bond ran deep.
Wang Lin was clad head to toe in black, face carved and cold, his bearing the honed edge of a man who’d seen real battlefields — utterly at odds with the private room’s quiet elegance.
The instant he stepped inside, his eyes made a habitual sweep of every face in the room.
When his gaze landed on Shen Xiuhan, his brows twitched. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.
Shen Xiuhan gave him an understated nod — a silent greeting.
Wang Lin exchanged a few words with Xiao Wu, then strode over and sat down beside Shen Xiuhan. His voice dropped.
“Didn’t expect you to know Brother Xiao Wu as well.”
“A chance encounter. Nothing more.”
Shen Xiuhan smiled, then cut straight to the point.
“Senior Brother… this trip back to Changyun with Senior Sister — you’re hunting someone, aren’t you?”
“Hm?”
Wang Lin’s expression hardened. His eyes narrowed at Shen Xiuhan.
“Who told you that?”
“Nobody…”
Shen Xiuhan shook his head with a smile. He set down his wine-cup and spoke lightly.
“It’s just that yesterday I happened to kill a petty thief who had no business being where he was. On him I found a technique manual — and on the last page, a certain important person’s cultivation notes. Put that together with the way you and Senior Sister have been acting so secretively since you came back… and I took a guess.”
“…”
Wang Lin was momentarily speechless.
He paused, studying Shen Xiuhan’s face from several angles.
Shen Xiuhan’s expression was perfectly composed, his gaze calm as still water — not a trace of jest.
Wang Lin drew a deep breath. His heart began to pound. His voice dropped further.
“Junior Brother Shen… this is not something to joke about.”
Shen Xiuhan only smiled. Without another word, he reached into his robe, drew out the booklet, and slid it across the table.
Dragon-Elephant Golden Body Art.
The moment those five characters entered his vision, Wang Lin’s gaze trembled. He seized the manual, flipped to the final page, and when he saw the signature — his breathing turned ragged.
“This — this—”
Wang Lin’s voice cracked dry. His head snapped up, eyes boring into Shen Xiuhan, shock written across every line of his face.
“Tian Ping’an… you killed him?!”
Shen Xiuhan smiled faintly, raised his cup, and took a sip. He neither confirmed nor denied.
Wang Lin exhaled long and slow, sinking against the chairback. He stared at his young junior brother with an expression layered in complexity.
In truth, he was no stranger to Shen Xiuhan.
Sensed his qi-blood in sixteen days. Taken into the inner court by their master. Reportedly a skilled cook — one of Mei Shuangfeng’s favorites.
At the hall gathering that day, Wang Lin had read the signs: their master was clearly grooming the boy. As a senior brother, lending a hand where he could was only right and proper.
But the lad had no interest in the military — he wanted to try his fortune with the sects. That put him outside Wang Lin’s sphere.
Later, he’d heard that this junior brother had made a splash at the feast — taken top three — and been dubbed, along with five others, the Six Prodigies of Changyun.
Wang Lin had heard it and smiled, and thought no more of it.
Why?
Because he, too, had come from a martial hall.