76 - Crazy! Criticizing the Prime Minister for Being a Servant

Chapter 76: A Good Disciple Inside the dormitory of the Hongfei Pavilion. He Lan Mian Mian curiously observed the little girl sitting absentmindedly at the head of the bed. With her soft face and pointed chin, a tiny red mole between her furrowed brows gave her a charming appearance. Yet, she... didn't seem very happy. At barely nine years old, He Lan Mian Mian had been overjoyed to be chosen to reside in the Hongfei Pavilion as a new disciple of the Northern Judgment Palace. The excitement of this prospect had kept her awake for two whole nights. Was there really anyone else who could be in the Hongfei Pavilion and not be thrilled? Deciding to introduce herself first, since they would be eating and sleeping together from now on, except when attending classes, she smiled and greeted, "Hello? My name is He Lan Mian Mian." Ning Song Wu glanced listlessly at He Lan Mian Mian. The girl, who appeared to be around her age, smiled amiably, dimples etched deeply into her fair cheeks, long eyelashes accentuating her pretty face. She replied in a weak voice, "Oh... I'm Ning Song Wu." "Oh, I heard some people talking about you a couple of days ago! Are you from the Rongku Pavilion?" He Lan Mian Mian exclaimed in surprise. Ning Song Wu felt a wave of irritation and turned her head away. "Why? Aren't you already a disciple of Ran Fan Yin Venerable?" "I..." Ning Song Wu was about to answer when a regular disciple rushed in from outside, urging them, "You need to go see Daoist Ping Zi Lei soon! Why are you still chatting? Hurry to the main hall!" "We're going to meet our master!" He Lan Mian Mian's eyes sparkled as she jumped up, grabbing Ning Song Wu's hand without waiting for her reaction, and ran outside. Ning Song Wu, wanting to stay lost in her sorrow a bit longer, found herself being dragged along by He Lan Mian Mian, racing to the entrance of the main hall before she even realized it. Standing at the entrance were many disciples around her age, not yet inside the hall. They were chatting in small groups. A boy standing near Ning Song Wu excitedly said to another boy next to him, "Hey, have you seen the Three Venerables yet? I heard from my roommate that he saw a glimpse of one of their robes in front of the head's main hall a few days ago..." "If it were you, which Venerable would you want to have as your master?" another child interrupted, visibly excited. A little girl replied with admiration, "Of course, Venerable Jiang Yue! I've seen his portrait, and it really matches what the books say—just like a forest!" "If it were me, I'd want Venerable Ran Fan Yin! Though the rumor is she doesn't speak much and is cold, she's beautiful! Like a goddess descended to the mortal world." A chubby boy's eyes shone, almost drooling at the thought. "Venerable Cheng Yun Huan is great too, rumors say his alchemy skills are unrivaled. If you become his disciple, you could make an elixir for immortality!" Listening to their chatter with disdain, Ning Song Wu thought: What's so great about Uncle Jiang Yue? He just keeps visiting the Rongku Pavilion to tease my master. Uncle Cheng Yun Huan is always so serious, with a face like someone's owed him money for life. Though her master also kept a serious face... her master was gentle with her! Yes, her master was definitely better! ◎ But... wait!!... Did they mean that they might have the chance to become a disciple under the Three Venerables?! Ning Song Wu was startled, a torrent of thoughts flooding her mind. This was a world where humans and demons coexisted. The demon race was innately strong while humans were weak, and humans did not wish to be enslaved by demons. They rebelled, sacrificing countless lives, yet still could not withstand the demon's power. When it seemed the struggle would be long and arduous, Ran Fan Yin's sudden emergence accelerated humanity's rise. She appeared out of nowhere, stormed into demon territory alone, and defeated the then demon emperor, giving humanity leverage in negotiations with the demons. Unfortunately, her appearance only balanced the scales; the demons slightly reined in their aggression. A false peace ensued as the boundary between humans and demons was drawn. Listening quietly to Lin Yu Xue explain this familiar yet unfamiliar world, Ning Song Wu was surprised at Lin Yu Xue's clarity of the current situation despite her innocent appearance. This so-called peace was indeed false; once Ran Fan Yin passed away, the situation would revert to what it was five hundred years ago. When Ning Song Wu looked towards Ran Fan Yin ahead, she was taken aback that, despite appearances of being in her twenties, Ran Fan Yin was actually over five hundred years old. Of course, comparing cultivators to ordinary people in terms of age was unwise. Yet, for some reason, Ning Song Wu felt an innate aversion to Ran Fan Yin, inwardly scoffing, "So she's an old hag after all." "Cangjun Mountain is here!" Lin Yu Xue's voice carried some excitement as she descended with her sword, leading Ning Song Wu towards the mountain gate. Ran Fan Yin had already gone before them. The gatekeepers, wearing the same white robes as Lin Yu Xue, indicating sect uniformity, respectfully saluted the returning sect master: "Sect Master!" Ran Fan Yin nodded in acknowledgment, not bothering with Ning Song Wu and Lin Yu Xue as she walked ahead. Her figure soon vanished from the mountain path. Lin Yu Xue, taking Ning Song Wu along, treaded up. This was the base of Cangjun Mountain; there was a long way up through the mountain path. Black-yin plants lined either side, and as Ning Song Wu drew closer, she saw their smooth surface reflect her face, feeling an oppressing sensation surrounded by such darkness. Ning Song Wu frowned, disliking this place. Noticing Ning Song Wu lag behind, seemingly intrigued by the Yin plants, Lin Yu Xue resumed, "These are Mo Yin plants. Don't be fooled by how many there seem to be; they are all a single plant. There's nothing too special about them; they're all over the mountain." Ning Song Wu touched the smooth surface of the Yin plant, feeling the cold under her fingertips, lowering her eyes as she murmured, "So cold." Lin Yu Xue, not wanting to waste any more time, pulled Ning Song Wu along, continuing their ascent. "Come on, let's go." It's amusing, despite being a cultivator, Lin Yu Xue climbed the mountain on foot due to Ran Fan Yin's rules. Since the sect master herself adhered to this, Lin Yu Xue dared not slack off. The path was long and tiring. Ning Song Wu, starting to feel exhausted, refused Lin Yu Xue's offer to carry her and continued upwards on shaky legs. Her sixth sense was usually acute, and she could feel eyes watching her. Ning Song Wu was indeed correct. Ran Fan Yin, having returned to her secluded mountain peak, conjured a water mirror to observe the two on the path. The path was enchanted so that if a demon entered, it would disturb their mind, forcing them to reveal their true form, upon which the formation would slay them. Yet Ning Song Wu remained perfectly normal, behaving just as any human would. Ran Fan Yin began to question her own judgment, murmuring to herself, "Perhaps I underestimated Cen Fei." Ran Fan Yin's living quarters were simply furnished: a wooden desk, a chair, and a bed. The only splash of color came from the painting on the wall, depicting a man with gentle features holding a sword. Ran Fan Yin sighed. Different from her public cold demeanor, she appeared troubled as she spoke to the portrait, "Master, if only you were here, you would handle this better than I." By this point, Ning Song Wu and Lin Yu Xue had arrived at the real gate of Cangjun Mountain. Ran Fan Yin retracted her spell, dispersing the water mirror, and opened the door to her room, reverting to her cold, unapproachable presence as the sect master. She thought that since she couldn't discern Ning Song Wu's intentions, it would be best to keep her close. Ran Fan Yin wasn't used to having someone close by, yet she couldn't ignore a potential hidden threat. Unaware she had caught Ran Fan Yin's attention, Ning Song Wu intended only to secure her meal at Cangjun Mountain. The sect seemed well enough. The wealth from dismantling the stone pillars at the mountain's base could make her rich for life, even allowing her descendants to lead carefree lives. Despite the temptation, Ning Song Wu wasn't foolish. If she actually dismantled them, she'd likely be banished from Cangjun Mountain, a prime example of failing at opportunism. Suppressing her inner greed, Ning Song Wu followed Lin Yu Xue diligently to the Dawn Dew Peak, where new disciples lodged. Lin Yu Xue helped Ning Song Wu select a room and settled her registration. Handing over the new disciple attire, the primary cultivation manual, and some spirit stones to Ning Song Wu, Lin Yu Xue advised, "These are for you. If you have questions, come find me at Morning Glow Peak." "You don't need to rush learning the cultivation manual. Your age might make it harder, but don't lose heart." Holding the new disciple garments, Ning Song Wu found Lin Yu Xue to be quite talkative, yet pleasant even for someone like her, who was usually quiet. The concerns Lin Yu Xue had never fell upon Ning Song Wu, who had no notion of ambition. Concluding the instructions, Lin Yu Xue departed from Dawn Dew Peak. Watching her leave, Ning Song Wu turned back into her room, placing the objects on a table. After her long journey, she felt rather tired. Seeing a small bed, she lay down, resting her hands behind her head, staring at the ceiling with closed eyes. The gentle wind blew, the windows remained open. It wouldn't matter if the windows were closed; it wouldn't hinder Ran Fan Yin. Ran Fan Yin entered Ning Song Wu's room, observing the restless girl on the bed, her brows furrowed in uneasy slumber. Waving her hand, Ran Fan Yin cast a detection spell. Though not proficient in such techniques, she excelled in combat. As the spell took effect, the girl's brow tightened further, but nothing unusual occurred — just an ordinary girl disturbed by nightmares. With some frustration, Ran Fan Yin withdrew the spell, feeling she might have mishandled things. Cultivators had many specialties. Some could move mountains or foretell the future, albeit at the cost of shortened lifespans due to heaven's harsh secrets. Ran Fan Yin's master, Cen Ran, had been such a diviner. Four hundred years ago, on his deathbed, he prophesied the demon emperor's return, forewarning humanity's downfall. Ran Fan Yin had followed his guidance to Bailu Village, where she found only a lowly fish demon and the girl on the bed, who was evidently not of the demon race. To prevent panic in the cultivation world, Ran Fan Yin had kept this prophecy secret for four centuries. Still pondering, Ran Fan Yin snapped out of her reverie as Ning Song Wu awoke. The first thing Ning Song Wu saw was the woman in blue by her bed, prompting her to rise and greet her in the style of a gatekeeper disciple: "Sect Master." Recoiling from her thoughts, Ran Fan Yin regarded Ning Song Wu with a somewhat cold tone. "Have you settled in well?" Ning Song Wu was puzzled about why this high and mighty figure would concern herself with someone as insignificant as her. Perplexed, she inquired, "This disciple is well-adjusted. May I ask what brings the Sect Master here?" Ran Fan Yin wasn't about to reveal her reasons. Though deeply suspicious of Ning Song Wu, she had no valid justification to act rashly. "Would you be willing to become my disciple?" The cold question shocked Ning Song Wu, whose eyes widened. Although surprised, her desire was simple: a carefree life. Without hesitation, she declined, "My aptitude is too poor; the Sect Master should choose a more deserving candidate." Ran Fan Yin, wary of close relationships, had never taken a disciple. As the strongest human force and a living legend, she had countless aspirants wishing to learn from her. The idea that Ning Song Wu would decline her offer might result in scorn from many. Ran Fan Yin hadn't expected such a rebuff. She was somewhat taken aback. "You need not consider anything else; I merely ask if you would." "I am unwilling. Please seek a more worthy disciple." Her reply was firm. Her disdain for strength and coldness, traits embodied by Ran Fan Yin, fuelled her rejection. Sensing the girl's aversion, Ran Fan Yin grew irritated. Her voice turned colder, and her expression hardened. "That is not your choice." Unable to move, Ning Song Wu found herself whisked away like a chick, aboard Ran Fan Yin’s flying sword, headed toward Chaoci Peak, Ran Fan Yin's abode. This time, Ran Fan Yin did not employ a weather shield, leaving Ning Song Wu shivering from the cold wind. To steady herself, Ning Song Wu clung tightly to Ran Fan Yin's waist. She felt Ran Fan Yin’s body tense briefly; then the flying sword slowed, the harsh wind dissipating. Evidently, she had cast a spell. Ran Fan Yin's voice sounded somewhat unnatural as she spoke, "Release me." Sensing Ran Fan Yin’s discomfort, Ning Song Wu clutched her harder, feigning fear. "I'm scared." Seeing Ning Song Wu seemingly terrified, tears welling in her eyes, Ran Fan Yin reproached herself. "She's just a child; why am I angry?" She gently touched Ning Song Wu's head, her voice trying to soothe, "It's alright. We're almost there." A shiver of distaste swept over Ning Song Wu internally, her mind plotting vengeance someday: making such a cold, powerful person cry would be a sight to savor. Ran Fan Yin, oblivious to Ning Song Wu's hidden smirk, awkwardly patted her, attempting to offer comfort, unaware this child was a little wolf pup in disguise. Just as she was piecing together her thoughts, the grand doors to the main hall swung open, pulled by two disciples. "Enter." Ping Zi Lei, appearing in his mid-twenties, seemed composed and gentle, exuding a refined grace similar to Jiang Yue, though his features were more rugged. His gaze swept over the new disciples, lingering on Ning Song Wu momentarily. Ran Fan Yin had brought her just in time, coinciding with a new batch of disciples. Hopefully, the child's nature wasn't too unruly. "Choose a seat. Today, no lessons will be given. Instead, we shall discuss the fundamental affairs of the sect..." Ning Song Wu picked a corner seat, quickly joined by He Lan Mian Mian, who smiled brightly at her. Seeing the cheerful face lightened Ning Song Wu's mood considerably. Ping Zi Lei sipped his tea, moistening his throat, and continued, "You are currently in the southeastern Hongfei Pavilion. To the east lies the elixir workshop, the south is the sword training grounds, next to which is the dueling platform. Heading slightly west, you'll find the library of the Northern Judgment Palace and the sword-forging pool in the southwest corner. Besides the dueling platform and the forging pool, you may visit these places freely..." He Lan Mian Mian listened intently, whispering to Ning Song Wu, "The Northern Judgment Palace is big. I got lost finding Hongfei Pavilion with a map the other day." Ning Song Wu scoffed, "It is big. I've been here three years and haven't explored all of it." "Wow, three years! That's impressive," He Lan Mian Mian complimented Ning Song Wu, eyes gleaming. Suddenly, a sharp, mocking voice chimed in, "Indeed, how impressive! Our friend from Rongku Pavilion here on an inspection!" The sarcasm in "inspection" was palpable. Following the voice, Ning Song Wu saw a girl about twelve or thirteen with crossed arms and a taunting smirk, eyeing her challengingly. "I wonder how much good karma you accumulated in a past life to do nothing and yet become Venerable Ran Fan Yin's disciple. I look forward to seeing your capabilities!" Her voice was low, spiteful, glaring at Ning Song Wu with malice. Ning Song Wu, arching her brow, retorted with a smile, "Oh, nowhere near as much as some others here, who's only luckier by a touch. My skills, though modest, surely surpass those of fresh-faced novices." The girl was momentarily taken aback, then smirked again, "Really? If that were the case, why were you sent to Hongfei Pavilion? Maybe Venerable Ran Fan Yin regrets taking a foolish disciple?" "My master does not!" Ning Song Wu snapped, her voice rising with anger, her face turning mean. "Silence." Ping Zi Lei cast a disapproving glance at Ning Song Wu, his expression unreadable. He Lan Mian Mian tugged Ning Song Wu's sleeve. Though seething, Ning Song Wu held her tongue, avoiding He Lan Mian Mian's gaze, brooding silently. "Best not antagonize her; she's the eldest daughter of the renowned Lan family from the south. Her name’s Lan Ze. You've heard of the Four Great Families of the martial world? They're significant. Many flatter and fawn over her daily," He Lan Mian Mian whispered to Ning Song Wu. "So what?!" Ning Song Wu's temper flared at any mention of her. "The Lan family head and the Northern Judgment Palace leader are good friends. It's said Lan Ze is privy to Northern Judgment matters. If she dislikes you, she could make life difficult for you!" He Lan Mian Mian sighed, realizing her roommate had offended a tough opponent. "Is everyone here of such illustrious status? What's your family into?" Ning Song Wu asked He Lan Mian Mian, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. He Lan Mian Mian appeared stunned, displaying discomfort, stammering, "I... I'd rather not say..." "Oh... fine, if you won't." Ning Song Wu slumped back onto the desk, dispirited, uninterested in Ping Zi Lei's droning lectures. The jade amulet around her neck pressed uncomfortably against her skin, emitting a gentle warmth. Remembering that her master's blood was melded into this jade made Ning Song Wu's nose tingle with an inexplicable sensation. She didn't like the fog there. She missed her master deeply. As these thoughts lingered, Ning Song Wu's eyes turned red once more. That night, He Lan Mian Mian attempted to engage Ning Song Wu several times but noticed her roommate was seemingly distracted, eventually giving up and climbing into bed. Left alone, Ning Song Wu slumped over her desk, feeling listless. She wanted to do nothing but also didn't want to sleep. The disciples' words from earlier and Brother Zisheng's remark about him and Sister Cen Dye starting from Hongfei Pavilion lingered. It seemed like all these Hongfei Pavilion disciples had a chance to enter the Venerables' tutelage. Throughout Northern Judgment Palace, she felt like an outlier, brought into the fold solely due to Ran Fan Yin's momentary compassion. Did her master resent her for being unlike the polished disciples from Hongfei Pavilion? Perhaps that was why she was left here for further training. If her progress lagged behind the others, would her master grow to dislike her, eventually abandoning her for a more promising disciple? Ning Song Wu shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel such thoughts. Suddenly, Ning Song Wu's eyes snapped open. She recalled an unfinished task—to paint a landscape of Northern Judgment Palace for her master. Her gaze moved to her right hand. If she completed the painting with her right hand, her master would surely be pleased. Yet, the thought of using her right hand made Ning Song Wu anxious, her palm trembling uncontrollably. Slowly, she reached for the brush hanging on the rack, grasping it nervously. Years ago, the tendons and bones in this hand were severed, almost detaching the hand from her arm. Even after being painstakingly repaired and nourished with rare ointments, the pain sometimes lingered. And whenever she exerted pressure, it felt as though countless ants were gnawing at her marrow, causing excruciating pain. Whenever her master inquired about her hand's condition, Ning Song Wu wouldn't express her struggles, not wanting to worry her master. Sometimes she would even lie, enduring the pain in silence. Ran Fan Yin truly never knew and wouldn't suspect that her ten-year-old disciple was so considerate of her feelings. Ning Song Wu's hand shook uncontrollably as she gripped the brush, the ink on the tip wavering until it finally dropped with a "plop" onto the pristine rice paper, spreading a deep black blot. But she couldn't bring herself to move the brush further. The dorm area of Hongfei Pavilion was enveloped in darkness, except for one room with a window casting a glow from a solitary candle that burned throughout the night, remaining alight even as dawn approached.