Chapter 223: Speaking False Words
This journey down the mountain had indeed brought him face to face with quite a few acquaintances. Song Yan could not help but marvel at how small the State of Chu truly was.
For reasons he could not fathom, Rong Xiaofeng’s eyes brimmed with delight. “Fellow Daoist Song, since our parting that day, years have already passed!”
Rong Xiaofeng’s warmth exceeded Song Yan’s expectations.
He had always felt that he and this couple were not yet so familiar as to warrant such enthusiasm.
Though doubts lingered in his heart, Song Yan still cupped his hands and smiled. “Fellow Daoist Rong, your bearing surpasses even the days of old. To speak honestly, when the Flower Festival was held here not long past, I was invited to North Watch Mountain as well. Alas, matters bound me, and I never paid a visit.”
“Not at all, not at all!” Rong Xiaofeng laughed heartily, his gaze falling upon Wang Ke beside Song Yan. “This must be the fellow Daoist Wang Ke, whose name has risen swiftly in the art of Go of late?”
Wang Ke scratched his head with a touch of shyness. “I advanced by sheer luck… Fellow Daoist Rong, you understand Go as well?”
Rong Xiaofeng produced a gilded jade token from his Cosmos Bag. “To speak plainly, this tournament is jointly organized by the Yan Clan, the Cold Flower Valley, and the Wu Clan.”
A flicker of curiosity passed through Song Yan’s eyes.
Just how far had the Wu Clan grown since those days?
“The elders of our clan have given strict instructions: should we encounter any masters of the art of Go, we must invite them to our estate for a visit.”
He turned toward Song Yan. “Fellow Daoist Song is an honored guest of the Wu Clan as well. Why not come with me?”
Song Yan was about to reply when he noticed Wang Ke casting him a meaningful glance.
“Fellow Daoist Rong’s kindness is hard to refuse,” Song Yan said, understanding the hint. “However, Fellow Daoist Wang has endured a long journey. He should return to the estate and rest for a few days. Perhaps we can gather after the tournament.”
Wang Ke quietly pulled Song Yan aside.
In his palm lay a single white jade Go stone.
The stone suddenly cracked, transforming into a length of vine shimmering with gilded spiritual light.
It was the second segment of the Falling True Vine.
“Fellow Daoist Song, please take it,” Wang Ke said in a hushed voice. “I have observed that this Chess Valley is heavily guarded, and the cultivators of North Watch Mountain are keeping watch as well. There should be no danger.”
“Go visit your friends. Come back in five days to watch the match.”
The vine settled into Song Yan’s hand, its spiritual energy warm and gentle.
Song Yan regarded Wang Ke with a long, deep look, then nodded. “Very well. Take care of yourself. Should anything seem amiss, send a message at once.”
“Understood.”
This employer of his was indeed easy to manage.
Since he had already come this far, visiting the Wu Clan would not be so bad after all.
…
North Watch Mountain City, southern foothills.
Only once they had truly entered the mountain city’s bounds did Song Yan begin to feel a sense of familiarity.
Rong Xiaofeng led Song Yan and the two others through streets and alleys. Along the way, cultivators periodically greeted Rong Xiaofeng with bows.
Song Yan made certain silent conjectures. It seemed the Wu Clan now held no small status within the city.
Come to think of it, the ability to co-organize a grand tournament alongside the Yan Clan and the Cold Flower Valley was proof enough of the Wu Clan’s current strength.
“How fares Fellow Daoist Wu?” Song Yan asked casually.
“She is formidable.” Rong Xiaofeng’s steps faltered slightly at the question, and a measure of pride surfaced on his face. “She has already become the head of the Wu household. All matters of the clan, great and small, are decided by her.”
Song Yan was somewhat surprised.
Back when they had parted ways, Wu Huaguo had been nothing more than a destitute independent cultivator who thought of nothing but her clan’s survival. Who could have imagined that in a mere handful of years, she would now command the entire clan?
They turned into a narrow lane where fewer passersby walked.
The Wu Clan’s estate.
Upon the stone stele before the gate, two characters were carved: Wu Clan.
They had not gone far past the courtyard entrance when a hearty laugh echoed from the gardens. “Has Fellow Daoist Song arrived?”
Before the words had faded, a woman in a green robe strode out to meet them.
Her features were as exquisite as a painting, and in her every gesture there was an air of brisk competence. It was none other than Wu Huaguo.
Rong Xiaofeng must have sent a message ahead by voice transmission.
“Fellow Daoist Song!” Wu Huaguo’s eyes sparkled with surprise. “Years have passed since we last met, and your bearing is greater than ever!”
Song Yan returned the greeting with cupped hands. “Who could have imagined that Fellow Daoist Wu would now be clan head. Congratulations are in order.”
Wu Huaguo shook her head with a smile. “It is merely the favor of the clan’s elders.” Her gaze shifted to Xiao Ju and Xiao He. “And these two are…”
“This is Xiao Ju, my companion. And this is Xiao He, my… also a companion.” Song Yan had been about to say spirit beast, but Xiao He was currently in human form.
Wu Huaguo and Rong Xiaofeng knew that Song Yan kept a small serpent spirit beast, but they had never seen her transformed appearance.
Xiao He grinned impishly, her small hands on her hips, seemingly eager for the couple to recognize her.
Wu Huaguo, however, only studied Xiao He for a few extra moments, smiled, and asked no further questions. She warmly ushered everyone into the inner hall.
Sandalwood incense curled gracefully through the hall. Spirit tea and fresh fruits had already been prepared upon the low tables.
The group took their seats and conversed at leisure. When the talk turned to the Wu Clan’s current fortunes, Wu Huaguo’s spirits lifted visibly.
The incomplete scripture, “The Book of No Techniques,” which they had brought from Lin Qinglong’s tomb in years past, now stood as one of the foundations upon which the Wu Clan was built.
This couple, Wu Huaguo and Rong Xiaofeng, were two remarkable individuals. Having obtained such a precious technique, they had hidden nothing at all, handing it over directly to the clan.
“Over these years, my husband and I have studied that Dao scripture and discovered that the earth-element and wood-element techniques within it possess a complementary synergy with the methods of the Compassionate Flower Understanding Speech Art.”
“Now, when the younger generation of the clan cultivates, they first learn our own clan’s techniques to build a foundation. Only after reaching the third level of the Qi Refining Stage do they begin studying that Book of No Techniques.”
Thanks to that scripture, in just the past few years alone, the Wu Clan had produced several cultivators who had reached the late stages of the Qi Refining Stage.
“All of this is thanks to Fellow Daoist Song’s generosity from years ago.”
The current Wu Clan was, of course, still far from matching those great cultivation families. Its ability to co-host this Go tournament with the Yan Clan and the Cold Flower Valley arose from the other two powers recognizing the Wu Clan’s potential.
But it was certainly no longer the humble household it had once been.
As the group chatted, the conversation naturally turned to the upcoming Go tournament.
“Speaking of which, my friend Wang Ke seems singularly devoted to this tournament.” Song Yan took a sip of spirit tea. “I wonder what reward the champion of this tournament will receive?”
Wang Ke had claimed he simply loved playing Go. Song Yan could not entirely believe such a reason.
As it happened, the Wu Clan was one of the organizers. He might as well ask directly.
Rong Xiaofeng started, then a trace of apology crossed his face. “Though I have been involved in the preparations, I have no real knowledge of the art of Go. I am afraid I never looked into it carefully.”
“There is indeed a special prize,” Wu Huaguo said from the side. “I have seen it myself. It is a golden page, said to have been unearthed from the cave abode of an ancient cultivator. It is a game record.”
A game record…
Wang Ke had mentioned this before.
Though its provenance was unknown, any game preserved by such means must have been left by one of the great masters of the Go Dao from ages past.
Such records typically contained matches that had never been made public.
Game records, like music scores, shared the same nature as calligraphic and painterly masterworks — they often concealed profound mysteries.
Some recorded lost cultivation methods, while others contained the deepest principles of heaven and earth.
Take game records as an example: in ancient times, certain mighty cultivators would hide their techniques within Go games. The placement of stones corresponded to the flow of meridians, and the shifting patterns of the board mirrored the cycles of the heavens.
However, unlike ordinary technique manuals or secret scrolls, if one lacked sufficient mastery and insight into the art of Go, one could spend a hundred years contemplating a game record and still fail to grasp even the doorway.
“I see.”
Song Yan pondered. “No wonder Wang Ke is so devoted.”
The man’s love for Go was genuine, but perhaps what truly drew him was this golden page of the game record.
If one’s attainments were sufficient, even a partial comprehension from within would be an extraordinary harvest.
Given that this man was indeed a master of Go, he must have had ample confidence in deciphering the ancient record.
As for game records, Song Yan had no particular interest.
After all, even if one were given to him for free, he would probably fail to comprehend anything of value.
The group was still chatting when the sound of a wooden fish drifted toward them from the distance.
Song Yan looked up and saw a young monk in grey monastic robes approaching at a leisurely pace.
His features were gaunt, and he held a string of dark wood prayer beads.
Song Yan had not expected the Wu Clan to retain a Buddhist cultivator as a guest. He asked in puzzlement, “And this is…?”
Wu Huaguo rose hastily. “This is Master Yuanzhen. Not long ago, the clan’s elders made his acquaintance in a secret realm. He is a Buddhist cultivator of the Pure Karma Monastery from the Central Domain.”
From the Central Domain?
Song Yan was mildly surprised.
Why would a cultivator from the Central Domain bother enduring hardship in a small place like the State of Chu?
Then again, this situation aligned perfectly with his preconceived notion of Buddhist cultivators.
Among Buddhist practitioners, there existed a category known as ascetic monks.
They pursued spiritual liberation by reducing every material necessity of cultivation to the barest, most meager minimum, praying to be freed from the endless suffering of the cycle of rebirth.
They believed that by shouldering a little more suffering themselves, all living beings might suffer a little less.
From that perspective, simply traveling through the State of Chu seemed to be nothing unusual.
The monk pressed his palms together and spoke in a low voice. “Amitabha. This humble monk has traveled here and has been taken in by Clan Head Wu. I apologize for the intrusion.”
Wu Huaguo said, “Master Yuanzhen arrives at just the right time. This is Fellow Daoist Song of the Abyssal Cave Sect. We were just discussing the Go tournament.”
“So this is Benefactor Song.” Yuanzhen’s gaze settled upon Song Yan. “This humble monk was just at the Four Palace Chess Valley, playing a game, when I saw Benefactor Song in the company of Benefactor Wang Ke.”
Song Yan returned the greeting with cupped hands, though inwardly he was somewhat taken aback.
At the Four Palace Chess Valley, when had this monk noticed them?
Once again, he had failed to detect the man’s observation.
First Wang Ke, and now Yuanzhen.
Sometimes Song Yan had to wonder whether his own formidable divine sense was malfunctioning.
He also studied the other man briefly. This Master Yuanzhen, the Buddhist cultivator from the Central Domain, did not appear to possess anything out of the ordinary.
His cultivation was merely at the peak of the Qi Refining Stage.
Rong Xiaofeng laughed. “Fellow Daoist Song may not know this, but Master Yuanzhen is himself a formidable player of Go.”
“He is one of the eight who will compete in the Four Palace Chess Valley in a few days for the championship of the tournament.”
This Go tournament placed no restrictions on cultivation level or region of origin.
However, the vast majority of participants were Qi Refining Stage cultivators from the State of Chu.
Foundation Establishment cultivators rarely took part in such impromptu tournaments that offered no clearly precious rewards.
At higher stages of cultivation, one naturally had access to higher platforms and broader horizons.
Moreover, playing Go against a group of juniors at the Qi Refining Stage — winning would be unremarkable, but losing would be truly humiliating.
Among the eight who would vie for supremacy in the Four Palace Chess Valley in a few days, only one was a Foundation Establishment cultivator.
“This humble monk happened to pass by while returning to his quarters. Hearing that the clan head had received honored guests, I came to pay my respects, lest courtesy be neglected.”
Yuanzhen pressed his palms together and bowed slightly.
After a few more pleasantries, Yuanzhen excused himself, citing the need to return to his quarters for scripture recitation.
Song Yan’s gaze flickered sideways. He caught Wu Huaguo and Rong Xiaofeng watching Yuanzhen’s retreating figure, a hint of vigilance in their eyes.
They even exchanged a glance with each other.
Song Yan was inwardly astonished, but his face betrayed nothing. He merely lifted his tea cup and took a small sip.
Once Yuanzhen had gone far enough, Wu Huaguo’s smile returned. “Fellow Daoist Song rarely visits North Watch Mountain. Why not let my husband and I give you a tour of the Wu Clan’s estate?”
Tour the estate? Was that truly necessary…
Song Yan perceived something and nodded in agreement.
“I would be honored.”
The Wu Clan’s domain was indeed flourishing. Training grounds, pill refinement chambers, and artifact crafting rooms were all present.
By the time they had completed the circuit, darkness had already fallen.
Song Yan was about to take his leave when he noticed Wu Huaguo and Rong Xiaofeng exchange a glance.
“Fellow Daoist Song.” Wu Huaguo’s voice entered his mind via transmission. “Might I have a word in private?”
So there was something after all.
He turned to Xiao Ju. “You and Xiao He wait in the main hall for a moment. I will come find you when I return.”
Xiao Ju did not know what was happening, but she nodded obediently.
The three of them arrived at a hidden stone chamber in the rear courtyard.
The instant the stone door closed, Rong Xiaofeng formed a hand seal and laid down a soundproofing ward.
What matter could possibly prompt these two to set up such measures within their own estate…
Song Yan raised an eyebrow slightly and waited for them to speak.
“Fellow Daoist Song, to be honest, my husband and I have never placed this much trust in an outside cultivator…”
Wu Huaguo’s face was etched with distress. This was a far cry from the confident clan head who had been boasting of the Wu Clan’s prosperity only moments ago.
“From the first time we met you at the Spirit Source Market, to the events at Senior Lin Qinglong’s tomb…”
Wu Huaguo was mid-sentence when she noticed him raise a hand.
” spare me.”
Song Yan’s voice was steady and calm. “Fellow Daoist Wu, spare me the recollections of the past.”
“We are already acquainted. Whatever the matter, speak plainly.”
Wu Huaguo and Rong Xiaofeng were taken aback, then laughed softly.
After all these years, this Fellow Daoist Song gave one the impression of having become even more direct.
Wu Huaguo drew a deep breath. “To speak candidly, we suspect that Master Yuanzhen has a problem.”
“Oh?” Song Yan recalled their guarded expressions earlier. “What makes you say so?”
“Fellow Daoist Song, do you still remember my secret technique?”
Song Yan paused briefly, then nodded. He already understood a portion of what was coming.
“The ability to judge whether a person speaks truth or falsehood.”
“Correct.” Wu Huaguo nodded.
“Therefore, it is because Master Yuanzhen spoke falsely?”
Song Yan felt the reasoning was somewhat tenuous.
Granted, monks were not supposed to tell lies, but that did not mean every small falsehood was evidence of sinister intent.
There was no need to treat this as though an enemy were at the gates.
“In this cultivation world, everyone deceives and schemes against their own conscience. Someone like you, Fellow Daoist Song, who is so sincere — such people are far too rare.”
“Others merely tell trivial lies or withhold minor details. Why would we leap to wild suspicions?”
Wu Huaguo shook her head.
Song Yan frowned. “What has he said? Which parts were true, and which were false?”
“His claim that he comes from the Central Domain — that was true.”
“That he trained at the Pure Karma Monastery — also true.”
“But his claim that he is devoted to the art of Go — that was false.”
“That he is merely traveling here without purpose — also false.”
Song Yan’s gaze sharpened.
Traveling here without purpose was a lie. If Wu Huaguo’s secret technique was reliable, did that not mean Yuanzhen had come with some other objective?
That objective could only be flight from pursuit, or the hunt for prey.
Or perhaps.
There was something here that he desired to obtain.