Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 768 - 60 Farewell Departure (1/2)(3000)

Chapter 768 -60 Farewell Departure (1/2)(3000)

The turmoil at One-Leaf Pavilion finally came to an end.

The rebellious disciples had their longswords confiscated and were left on the mountain under strict supervision. They were taught anew, starting from the basic manuals, little by little. Only when they genuinely understood could they regain the qualification to wear the One-Leaf Pavilion’s sword and descend the mountain to walk the Jianghu.

The disciples who had been deceived by the followers of Zhang Zuosheng into drinking the sleeping drug were rescued from the forbidden grounds of One-Leaf Pavilion. It was unclear what poison had been administered to them, and although it was not fatal, each of them was weak in the arms and legs, unable to even clutch a sword. Naturally, it became difficult to mobilize their inner strength to resist foes, which is no wonder why five hundred people managed to take these disciples down without injuring a single soldier.

All because of blind trust.

At this moment, these disciples of One-Leaf Pavilion couldn’t even defeat a brute with rudimentary knowledge of boxing, let alone their fellow sect brothers who also cultivated superior martial arts manuals. After being rescued, their faces were filled with shame. Though they were locked up inside, the commotion outside was too loud, and they could hear some noises, inevitably feeling uneasy.

Jiang Yang changed out of his blood-stained clothes, bathed, and dressed freshly. He was still in long robes with a jade pendant, and his hair was tied in a bamboo crown. He looked meticulous, his demeanor gentle and scholarly, no different from his usual appearance, like a Sea-Calming Divine Needle, stabilizing the uneasy emotions among the One-Leaf Pavilion disciples.

Wang Anfeng stood atop the mountain of One-Leaf Pavilion, the wooden sword on his back once again wrapped in rough cloth. Watching the calm and composed scholar, he couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

Jiang Yang’s demeanor was excellent, exceptionally so, composed and poised, even vaguely possessing a trace of the aura of the Great Elder of Qingfeng Edge. If his guess was not wrong, within ten years or so, One-Leaf Pavilion would produce a Great Grandmaster whose fame would echo through the ages.

But any martial artist who had reached the Middle Third Rank could feel the constantly leaking Qi Mechanism from the scholar before them.

Although his inner Qi was vast and boundless like the North Sea, capable of accommodating the Kunpeng’s dive, this continuous leakage was not sustainable. Day by day, it leaked without replenishment, not able to be sustained for much longer. Jiang Yang previously mentioned he had only two years left, not out of recklessness, but from a martial artist’s accurate grasp of his own condition.

Martial artists practice cultivation to refine their bodies and nurture their Qi Mechanism, climbing higher step by step.

But when the day comes that a mountain collapses or a tower crumbles, causing the Qi Mechanism to scatter entirely, life also fades away. Such injuries, even Wu Changqing of Shaolin Temple could not amend. Birth, aging, sickness, and death, how can one go against nature with mere human efforts?

Zhang Zuosheng had indeed shown no mercy in his previous attack.

Even though Wang Anfeng felt extremely regretful, there was nothing he could do. He only managed to ask Jiang Lan for a fine wolf-hair brush and a piece of rice paper, silently wrote down the Qi Nourishing Elixir formula that his second master had once taught him, handed it to the seemingly settled Jiang Lan, and then meticulously instructed her on the effects and prohibitions of the elixirs.

Coming from a distinguished background, Jiang Lan naturally recognized the significance. The rice paper only contained three elixir formulas and just over a hundred words, yet the implications were tremendously heavy. If released into the Jianghu, countless martial artists would fight ferociously for these formulas. Wang Anfeng casually giving them to her shook her profoundly, leaving her speechless for a moment.

Wang Anfeng placed the fine wolf-hair brush back on the stand and, seeing her reaction, smiled and said:

“Consider this as my advance wedding gift to you and Xiahou.”

“The world is vast and the Jianghu is far-reaching. There are too many things and complications. I may not be able to attend your wedding.”

Jiang Lan’s face turned red, but she didn’t object. She carefully put away the scrolls, bowed respectfully, and said, “Thank you, Young Hero Wang. After using this medicine, I will burn it and will not let a third person know.”

Wang Anfeng felt some fondness for this woman and smiled, saying:

“Thank you for that.”

“After all, it’s special to my sect, and it wouldn’t be good if it got out.”

Jiang Lan nodded, and the two had no more to say. What she had said about burning the paper after use went without saying for both; once it was used up, even the secret elixirs from Medicine King Valley would be of no avail. When the day came for Jiang Yang to depart this world, thinking of this, Jiang Lan’s heart weighed heavily, leaving her no desire to speak.

Wang Anfeng and Jiang Lan were not originally acquainted; they only met through Xiahou Xuan’s connection. Apart from comforting words, there was little else to say. Wang Anfeng turned to the side, observing Jiang Yang’s silhouette, his heart filled with admiration, but also with pity.

He had left the inn early today. Following the rush, conflict, storming the mountain, and handling the aftermath, he had been busy for an entire day. Now, in the distant sky, he could already see a round moon hidden behind the clouds, large as a disc.

Wang Anfeng drew the slightly cool evening air into his belly, invigorating his spirits. Slowly exhaling, he muttered to himself:

“Mid-Autumn Festival is almost upon us…”

The wine festival in Liangzhou on Jianan Road starts three days before the Mid-Autumn Festival and lasts for seven days. After Mid-Autumn, there are still three more days of lingering festivity.

Three days prior, the provincial official of Liangzhou would clear a space in the northwest part of the city, covering it with five-colored canopies. Masters of wine-making from the 72 counties of Great Qin would place their proud creations in bronze wine vessels, each occupying a space partitioned by canopies, drawing people to taste their brews.

Every individual qualified to enter this wine event, regardless of age or status, was undoubtedly among those who excelled in enjoying copious amounts of wine. They all had a token issued beforehand—in most cases, a willow wood plaque, with the most prestigious ones made of rosewood and phoebe nanmu, each inscribed with the word “Excellence.”

This wooden plaque allowed one to freely indulge in drinking inside, and if they found a particular wine to their liking, they could simply toss this token onto that winemaker’s table, roughly categorizing the wines into tiers of quality.

This process was known as ‘Warming Wine in a Bronze Stove.’

Then came the highlight, the Mid-Autumn Grand Wine Festival, which would coincide with the entire state city’s Mid-Autumn Lantern Festival. The winery that emerged as the top choice would be lauded by the provincial official, who would dispatch dozens of swift-footed government officials in vermilion clothes to spread the news throughout all seventy-three districts of the state city. When the time came to light up the lanterns, it would seem as though the whole city was cheering, intoxicating even those who hadn’t had a drink.

This event was elegantly termed ‘Red Sleeves Adding to Wine.’ While it had started as a minor event in previous years, with the unification of the world in recent years, it gradually came to be seen by various wineries as a rare honor in their lifetime.

Wang Anfeng and his companions had calculated their time to reach Liangzhou early, but they hadn’t expected to encounter Jiang Lan and his party along the way, which delayed them considerably.

Now, it seemed they would certainly miss the three days of ‘Warming Wine in a Bronze Stove.’ Even the spectacle of the city awash in lantern light during ‘Red Sleeves Adding to Wine’ might not be fully appreciated, but attending the final three days of the wine festival should be no problem.

The person they were seeking this time, Jiu Zizai, though a Third Rank Martial Artist, was as addicted to wine as to life itself, and would stay in Liangzhou for a long time each year, usually not departing until the end of August, so finding him was not a concern.

On that day, Wang Anfeng and his companions settled in at One-Leaf Pavilion. The next morning, they rose to take their leave. Jiang Yang tried several times to detain them to no avail, and personally escorted Wang Anfeng and his party down the mountain. Before leaving, this great scholar led Wang Anfeng into the Quiet Room for a private discussion for an hour, the content of which no one knew.

This time, Xiahou Xuan also descended the mountain with Wang Anfeng and the others. He, being the eldest son of one of the four grand noble clans, naturally could not stay in One-Leaf Pavilion, another top power in Jiangnan Road, for too long.

Especially now, when One-Leaf Pavilion was in a precarious situation, his continued presence there would easily attract the attention of those with ulterior motives.

Without going into details, just spreading the news that he had stayed at One-Leaf Pavilion for a few days would be enough to spark secretive conjectures and malice among the major powers of the Martial Arts World of Jiangnan Road, which even included the Xiahou Family from which he hailed.

If his trip hadn’t been about making secret preparations, leaving behind a decoy in his room who resembled him to deceive the skilled members of his family, the various branches of the Xiahou Family back home would probably be in chaos by now, plotting to take advantage of his absence to create mischief.

And his father, the head of the Xiahou Family famed for his formidable talent and strategy, had undoubtedly sent Guest Elders, wanting him to stay in One-Leaf Pavilion to propose that Jiang Lan marry into their family as a way to penetrate One-Leaf Pavilion. This would allow them to form an alliance with One-Leaf Pavilion against their enemies while gradually eroding its strength to enhance their own family’s power.

However, the spy he left behind was just a spy after all. Xiahou Family also held a family ancestral worship every Mid-Autumn Festival, and though he had trained the spy for years to mimic his every behavior and even every scar on his body, he still didn’t dare to be too confident about deceiving his father.

Before Mid-Autumn, he had to return.

Xiahou Xuan lifted his head, noticing the sandstorm brewing. Jiang Lan was merely ten steps away yet was starting to seem indistinct. He squinted without showing any other reaction, merely raising his hand to bid farewell along with Wang Anfeng.

Then lowering his hand, he grabbed the horse’s reins, a slight smile on his face as he said,

“Since Ye Zhuhua is a disciple of One-Leaf Pavilion, I shall not overstep. I have already sent a Hidden Guard to deliver the person to One-Leaf Pavilion. Whether to kill or release him is for the few in One-Leaf Pavilion to decide. However, considering even Zhang Zuosheng managed to escape with his life, it’s unlikely they will be too harsh on Ye Zhuhua, who is under his command.”

Jiang Lan pursed his lips, wanting to ask more but with Jiang Yang nearby, he hesitated, ultimately standing still.

Jiang Yang nodded slightly, speaking mildly,

“Thank you, Xiahou World-Nephew, for your kindness. I will certainly discipline my disciples properly and ensure they do not act rashly again.”

Xiahou Xuan couldn’t help but mockingly whisper under his breath that he was indeed a sophisticated gentleman, not even noticing the subtle provocation and sarcasm in his words. Compared to his own father, this gentleman seemed overly virtuous, almost not fitting the image of a sect master of a major Martial Arts World power.

Yet who was truly better of the two, he couldn’t quite say.

At that moment, however, he was no longer in the mood to speak. He looked at Jiang Lan intensely, gave another bow, and turning his horse, followed Wang Anfeng and the others as they left, hitting the official road. Within moments, they had gone far, and to the father and daughter watching below at the gate of One-Leaf Pavilion, they were merely tiny specks.

PS: Today’s first update … three thousand words