28 Already Many Years

At five o'clock in the morning, Chen Changsheng opened his eyes. He wasn't waking up from his sleep, but from his state of meditation. After confirming that there was still no change with his body, he shook his head and returned to his room to take a bath. As he leaned against the edge of the wooden basin and allowed the slightly hot water to wash over his exhausted body and mind, the sighs passing through the wet towel became a mumbled question, "When will I be able to find a way?"

This wooden basin was around half the height of a human and was placed very close to the academy wall behind the house. In the next moment, he heard an extremely faint sigh from the other side of the wall, accompanied by a statement brimming with anxiety, "When will I be able to find that person?"

Chen Changsheng thought of that sigh he had heard last morning and took the wet towel off his face to turn and gaze at the wall. What confronted his eyes was a tangle of green ivy. The academy wall was very high, so he could not see the other side to know who was speaking.

It had been a very immature voice, most likely that of a female child. Every person's sorrows were not necessarily the same, but they were all sorrows nonetheless. Chen Changsheng suddenly sympathized with the girl on the other side of the wall, but he soon after realized that in his current situation, he wasn't qualified to sympathize with anyone else.

The following days passed in peaceful serenity. Every day, he would read books in the library, and when night fell, he would draw the radiance of the stars into his body for Purification. Over the course of this Purification, he would always have his eyes closed in meditation, naturally unaware that the radiance had all seeped into his body. From an exterior perspective, there truly had been no change. This result was unavoidably rather discouraging, but he continued to diligently and incessantly cultivate, not affected in the slightest.

Just like his cultivation, the repairs of the Orthodox Academy progressed in a methodical manner. Although that Priest Xin of the Bureau of Ecclesiastic Education did not manage things from the front, there was no shortage of funds, and it all arrived promptly. Naturally, the artisans and laborers did not dare to slacken their pace.

As this academy wall that had been worn away by years of non-maintenance could not even block out sound, wind could also naturally pass through.

(TN: Wind, 风, can also mean news.)

The news that the Orthodox Academy was being repaired quickly spread throughout the capital. The matter of the Orthodox Academy gaining a new student was also gradually known to the populace. However, true reason for the Orthodox Academy's decline meant that people only dared to discuss these pieces of news in private. Nobody dared to inquire about this publicly, so the only effect of these pieces of news was to add to the number of conversation topics over the dining and tea tables.

Chen Changsheng did not know that a storm was gradually building in the world outside. He continued to silently study and cultivate in that school in the depths of Hundred Flowers Lane, repeating a similar life and simply not feeling that his days were passing very dryly and monotonously.

On the surface, it seemed that he had stopped caring about whether he could succeed or not in cultivation. In reality, his mind was completely tied up with this matter. The proof was that it had already been several days since he had wiped the floorboards of the library, a rare occurrence for someone as obsessed with cleanliness as him.

That he had not succeeded in Purification did not mean that he had obtained nothing from this life of studying.

He read many books in the library, the majority of which he had already read in Xining Village, while there were some books regarding cultivation that he was reading for the first time. Upon comparing the two, he realized to his surprise that many of the words that he had read when he was small were related to cultivation.

When he was memorizing those Daoist scriptures as a child, he had no idea what those nigh incomprehensible words meant, nor was he able to obtain any definite explanation from his senior or master. He thought that they were words related to metaphysics and stopped brooding over them. Only after coming to the capital and reading these books on the initial phase of cultivation like On Purification in the Orthodox Academy did he understand. Originally, all the cultivation methods of the world, the precious experiences left behind by past experts, the techniques of certain major sects not meant to be transmitted to the outside world, and even a few secrets of demon experts were all contained in the three thousand scriptures of the Daoist Canon in Xining Village's old temple!

What did this mean?

Who said that he didn't know how to cultivate? He just had not begun to cultivate, or at least this was what he originally thought. Now, he knew that this argument was incorrect. Who said that he had not begun to cultivate? No, from the moment he could speak, he had begun, he was already cultivating!

The three thousand scriptures of the Daoist Canon contained in Xining Village's old temple were countless fragments of knowledge related to cultivation. In the past, these fragments had been a thick fog within his spiritual world, but the cultivation techniques that he now understood had become extremely small specks of dust that formed nuclei in the fog. The vapor began to crystallize around these cores, bringing down a boundless downpour.

Chen Changsheng had begun an extremely fantastical trip, a wondrous journey. It could be said that he had comprehended by analogy, and it could also be said that he had been suddenly enlightened, like he had been jolted awake by a whack to the head. But in reality, the most ideal descriptor of the truth was those five words: rising abruptly through accumulated strength.

A bit more than fourteen years had passed since Daoist Ji had picked him up from the stream, and every day and every night of those fourteen years had been spent on relentless reading. Those fourteen years of reading were a process of accumulation. He had already laid down an extremely thick foundation. Ultimately, all he needed was an opportunity, and then he could convert this knowledge that he had grasped over his fourteen years entirely into his own understanding of the world, and later on convert it into his own strength.

Just like a jar of gunpowder ignited by a spark.

A massive explosion occurred in Chen Changsheng's spiritual world. He voraciously read all the books in the library, grasping the laws of cultivation. Those fragments of information he had obtained from the Daoist scriptures of Xining Village were once more reassembled, once more reviewed, and then truly understood. With almost unimaginable speed, he comprehended the secrets of the cultivation world, grasped the details of those cultivation techniques. Solely in terms of cultivation knowledge, there were already frighteningly few people in the world with a more extensive understanding than him.

To be unable to succeed in Purification and yet suddenly obtain such a great harvest was a very delightful occurrence to Chen Changsheng, and also a consolation. Once his emotions settled down, he once more grew uneasy and confused. He walked to the window of the library and gazed in the direction of Xining Village in silence. The Daoist scriptures in that old temple were no ordinary objects, and his master was also naturally no ordinary man. He had helped him lay down such a firm foundation for cultivation, but why didn't he just teach him how to cultivate, rather than insisting that he only begin after coming to the capital? Was it just because his body's illness was not easy to treat and he wanted to see if he would have any lucky encounters in this place?

Time passed, and in the blink of an eye, ten-odd days had gone by. No one from the Divine General of the East's estate appeared again, nor did that maid called Shuang'er come again. He was quite pleased that his calm life was not disturbed. But he was somewhat displeased that Tang Thirty-Six also never appeared. He had left his address behind at the inn, presuming that he would be able to find him. Fine, that fellow might be bitterly cultivating in the Heavenly Dao Academy.

The Orthodox Academy had only Chen Changsheng as its sole inhabitant. This was his own academy.

He quietly read and silently cultivated, gradually forgetting the world outside. He had already been forgotten by the outside world. On occasion, he would recall that conversation he had overheard in the Bureau of Ecclesiastic Education, think about the excitement of those initiation activities held by the Heavenly Dao Academy and Star Seizer Academy and feel somewhat envious, but he did not care too much. He had long grown used to this sort of dull and monotonous life—in Xining Village's old temple, when he was reading together with his senior, his voice was the only sound.

It was just that he had attempted Purification for so many days, but his body still remained unchanging. He could see no hope of success, but he would not give up. In the end, however, he had grown somewhat more indifferent. He decided that if he still could not succeed in the next few days, he would have to search the books for another method.

Indifference often made people lose a little drive, but it would make some people become more cool-headed—precisely Chen Changsheng's current mental state. He could not be said to have returned to his original mindset, but he had returned to his mindset at the very beginning of this process. Now that he looked at the floor covered in a shallow layer of dust, the brow of this youth that so dearly loved cleanliness creased in deep displeasure.

Most of this displeasure was aimed at himself. He felt that he had grown lazy.

He brought up some clear water from the well and began to clean the floorboards. As the dust was gradually cleaned, the floorboards that were wiped clean with water began to exude an extremely faint aroma. He was unaware of the sweat he had perspired on the night that he had lit up his Fated Star, so he was somewhat puzzled. This aroma was truly very faint. A single gust of the night wind was enough to make it vanish.

After he finished cleaning, he casually sat down and began to draw in starlight for Purification.

The Orthodox Academy was a picture of tranquil silence. He closed his eyes in meditation, utterly forgetting all things. He naturally could not hear the night birds in the forest that should have been resting but suddenly began to chirp, the sound crisp and moving. The croaks of frogs that had halted for several days also began to ring out once more, happy beyond compare.

A butterfly fluttered in from the window and rested on the floor beside him, unwilling to depart.

It was the piece of floor that he had just wiped clean.

...

...

Hundred Flowers Lane was a very ordinary street of the capital. Of course, it had once been very famous because the Orthodox Academy in its depths had once been very famous. Additionally, the Hundred Herb Garden at that end had also been very famous. That place was the Imperial Garden of the previous dynasty.

The most famous rebellion in the Great Zhou Dynasty's history had also occurred in the Hundred Herb Garden. At the time, Emperor Taizong, who was still a prince, was galloping his horse from his estate to the Imperial Palace but was ambushed at this place by the other princes. At that moment, Emperor Taizong had still been dressed in his night gown.

The ultimate conclusion of that rebellion was known by the entire continent: Emperor Taizong narrowly obtained the final victory and his imperial brothers were all executed on the spot, with several hundred of their followers simultaneously being beheaded.

Because of this bloody, rather inglorious history, the Hundred Herb Garden lost its status as an Imperial Garden and was placed under the custody of the Orthodoxy's Hall of Heavenly Virtue, to be used for growing medicinal herbs and spirit fruits. Perhaps because the soil of the Hundred Herb Garden had absorbed too many nutrients from the blood, or perhaps because too many corpses had been buried beneath it, the medicinal herbs and spirit fruits planted here flourished. It once more became valued by the Imperial Court and was placed under strict guard.

In reality, extremely few people knew that the reason the Hundred Herb Garden was so heavily guarded, besides the precious medicinal herbs and spirit fruits growing within, was that it would often be used as a residence for important and powerful figures that would find it inconvenient to appear in public. For example, when the Divine Empress was first expelled from the Imperial Palace, she resided in the temple here in cultivation. It was also precisely for this reason that the Hall of Heavenly Virtue later on received enormous benefits.

At present, the Hundred Herb Garden was inhabited by another noble.

Under the old walls crawling with ivy was a table made of stone. A tea cup was on the table, and the cup contained the rarely seen and precious tea brewed from tea leaves freshly picked in the rain this spring.

A little lady was drinking tea.

Her face was childish, her pupils like black stars, her lips like red plums. She had long and slender eyelashes, and her pale white cheeks had two faint patches of red. She was a picture of astonishing beauty.

It was an extremely healthy sort of beauty, delighting both the body and mind of others, but never giving them any sort of distracting thoughts.

The girl herself was not much delighted. Her face was one of deep distress because she still had not found that person.