Don't Pick Up Disciples Randomly by the Roadside - Chapter 9

Shen Chunyi gently fanned himself with a folding fan, deep in thought, when Xuanshuang Xu produced another piece of paper: “Besides this, I also found this in the room.”

Written on the paper was a prescription. At a glance, it consisted of herbs for treating ailments caused by wind, cold, and dampness—nothing serious, though the use of herbs like aconitine was rather bold. Apart from that, there was nothing unusual about it.

Shen Chunyi examined it for a long while, his expression growing slightly grave. After a moment, he folded the prescription twice and handed it back.

Rubbing his temples, he had a vague suspicion—not quite a guess but something close—yet he didn’t ask directly. Instead, he said, “What other abnormalities did you notice about the flower?”

“To be precise, there was one,” Xuanshuang Xu replied, tucking the prescription back into his lapel. Hearing Shen Chunyi’s question, he recalled, “The scent of cosmetics.”

“Cosmetics?” Shen Chunyi’s tone seemed questioning, though he didn’t appear particularly surprised. “At the time, I was too focused on talking to Shi Yun and didn’t remember if the mourning procession included the master’s wife or daughters.”

Xuanshuang Xu shook his head. “It shouldn’t have. Zhao Er never married.”

Shen Chunyi said, “Not marrying doesn’t mean no one in the east wing ever used cosmetics.”

Xuanshuang Xu continued, “If it were just a trace of cosmetics, it might easily blend with the floral scent, and I might not have been able to distinguish it. But the cosmetics on the lotus seemed as if it had been soaked in rouge from a cosmetics shop—deeply ingrained and exceptionally strong.”

Shen Chunyi’s hand, which had been tapping the fan, stopped.

After a pause, he said slowly, “I’ve always been reluctant to consider this possibility, but her behavior today was quite unusual, making it hard not to suspect. If this truly has something to do with Shi Yun, then the undefeated lotus might also be her handiwork.

As for a place filled with blooming flowers and thick with the scent of cosmetics, I can only think of one, which has deep ties to her.”

Xuanshuang Xu raised an eyebrow, unsure what he meant.

It was nearly noon, and the two headed south. The long street was bustling with people. Though not as prosperous as the capital, it was still lively, with shops wide open, carriages and horses coming and going, and the clamor of vendors filling the air. Everywhere was crowded, and the streets and alleys were a scene of bustling activity.

Turning off the main street, they saw a vermilion-lacquered red building standing prominently ahead, its sign neatly written in elegant script with three characters:

Jiaoyun Pavilion. True to its name, it resembled a pleasure house or entertainment quarter, and its purpose was likely as implied. Jiaoyun Pavilion was located on a side street in the bustling market, its name and sign both alluring. From a distance, the building looked no different from a tavern, so it wasn’t uncommon for guests to visit for a whiff of fragrance without staying the night.

Thus, like a proper tavern, it also sold food and snacks, with a few tables and chairs arranged in the main hall. Though it could barely pass as an amusing eatery, people hadn’t forgotten the purpose behind its name. Several windows on the upper floor were adorned with fluttering pink silk ribbons, swaying coquettishly in the wind like the skirts of a beauty, enticing guests from afar to approach.

Xuanshuang Xu crossed his arms and strolled alongside Shen Chunyi, catching sight of Jiaoyun Pavilion’s sign from a distance. After observing for a while, he finally remarked in an unreadable tone, “Does Master often frequent such places?”

Shen Chunyi vehemently denied it. “Of course not!”

Xuanshuang Xu wore a faint, ambiguous smile but offered no further comment.

“However,” Shen Chunyi said, fanning himself lightly, “the first time I met Shi Yun was here.”

“Back then, she wasn’t yet called Shi Yun.”

The name Shi Yun was given to her by Dongfang Zhen. As for what her original name might have been, she herself could hardly remember. She only recalled that later, while running errands and doing odd jobs at Jiaoyun Tower, she was given a delicate and soft name—Shi Yun.

At that time, Shi Yun was still very young, only about eight or nine years old, and not skilled at pleasing guests. So, the more sordid tasks never fell to her. Moreover, she made a point of keeping herself disheveled and grimy, her features barely discernible at a glance. As a result, people often forgot she was a girl, treating her instead as a little errand boy.

During her time at Jiaoyun Tower, Shi Yun’s duties consisted of chores like chopping firewood, boiling water, and serving tea. Though not exactly easy, she was a girl the tower had taken in—she had no indenture contract. Besides, she worked hard, ate little, and after finishing her tasks, she would wander outside for a while without the boss saying a word.

Not far from Jiaoyun Tower back then was a very small teahouse. A few years later, the old man who ran it passed away, and the teahouse vanished, replaced by a rouge shop—a more fitting neighbor for Jiaoyun Tower than a teahouse had been.

In those earlier days, after finishing her work, Shi Yun would spend a little time at that teahouse. The tea master there was a scholar with a large cabinet of classics, histories, philosophies, and medical texts displayed in the main hall. Usually, no one bothered to read them, leaving the books to gather dust.

The teahouse was poorly located—tucked away in a side street of the bustling market, and right next to a place like Jiaoyun Tower. As a result, the little establishment attracted little attention. Even when the tea master sat there telling stories, no one came to listen. Only this disheveled little creature would slip in quietly, squat by the door, place her hands obediently on her knees, and listen to his tales. Afterward, she would clasp her hands together, first apologizing and then thanking the tea master.

Then she would wash her hands meticulously, sit cross-legged on the floor, and flip through the books. The tea master often praised this grimy little thing for her quick wit—how fast she read and how well she remembered.

It was during that time that Shen Chunyi first met Shi Yun. He was thirteen that year, barely taller than his sword, and had not yet delved into his collection of poisons, gu, and other unorthodox arts. He was a proper, well-behaved young cultivator, very much worth remembering.

Extremely young, yet his talent was astonishingly high. In just a few years since joining his sect, his cultivation had advanced by leaps and bounds. By the age of thirteen, he was already capable of handling certain assignments on his own.

Places like Jiaoyun Tower, with their heavy yin and delicate atmosphere, were not uncommon hiding spots for charming mountain spirits and seductive creatures. The assignment Shen Chunyi had taken on at the time was precisely one submitted from Jiaoyun Tower.

Spirits in such yin-rich places were not difficult to eliminate. Shen Chunyi, who cultivated both medicine and sword arts, was sent down the mountain alone by Sect Leader Dongfang Zhen—partly as a training exercise.

Shen Chunyi moved with swift precision. With just two strikes of his sword, he left the creature gasping for breath, barely alive, forcing it to limp away in desperate flight. The task should have been straightforward, but misfortune struck when he stepped on a triangular nail hidden behind a chamber door during his inspection.

The nail was tiny, almost the same color as the floorboards. Focused on subduing the creature, Shen Chunyi hadn’t noticed it and stepped right on it. Normally, such a minor injury wouldn’t matter, but the problem was that the triangular nail carried a heat toxin from the creature.

Shen Chunyi immediately fell into a high fever. The ten-year-old child, delirious with fever, tremblingly raised his arm and managed to send a fragmented voice message to Taiwu Mountain, only saying he was afflicted with a heat toxin before losing consciousness.

Upon receiving the message, Dongfang Zhen assumed it was some formidable spirit creature Shen Chunyi couldn’t handle and rushed over personally with his disciples. However, by the time he stepped into Jiaoyun Pavilion, Shen Chunyi’s fever had nearly subsided, and he had regained much of his clarity. Seeing Dongfang Zhen arrive, he even managed to rise from bed properly, step onto the floor, and respectfully address him as “Master.”

Shen Chunyi still remembered that during his semi-conscious state, it was a young woman who had taken care of him. She knew how to make a sweet-and-sour apple hawthorn paste. Shen Chunyi, too feverish to eat anything, could only barely swallow a little of the sour broth.

Behind the woman was a little girl, who appeared to be a year or two younger than Shen Chunyi, disheveled and grimy. While the woman was busy cleaning the soup bowl and stepping out, the girl secretly swapped her bowl with the medicine she had brewed herself.

The result, of course, was that Shen Chunyi’s fever broke.

In a place like Jiaoyun Pavilion, there were many skilled in blending fragrances, but none who knew how to prepare medicine. Although the fragrance workshop had some medicinal herbs, they were all jumbled together with the aromatic materials in a chaotic mess. The little girl had simply picked a few herbs from that tangled pile and, by sheer luck, managed to reduce Shen Chunyi’s fever.

Naturally, this little girl was Shiyun. Dongfang Zhen was also quite intrigued, believing the girl must possess extraordinary talent. To be so thoroughly familiar with the properties of common herbs, and to have such remarkable memory and observational skills—it was no small feat.

At the time, he happened to be in need of a disciple to study the medical arts, so he asked the little girl if she would be willing to become his apprentice. Shiyun, suddenly summoned and faced with such a prominent leader of the righteous path, was extremely flustered, unsure where to place her hands. Hearing Dongfang Zhen’s offer, she felt both excitement and gratitude, nodding vigorously in response.

For the master of a major cultivation sect to take on a disciple was considered a fortunate event, and it might even lead to connections with cultivators in the future. Naturally, Jiaoyun Pavilion was more than willing. Moreover, this little girl had no indenture contract, yet Dongfang Zhen paid a hefty sum, redeeming her at the price of an ordinary girl—truly a profitable deal.

The owner of Jiaoyun Pavilion beamed with delight, nodding repeatedly in agreement, and prepared to drag Shiyun away to be scrubbed clean from head to toe so she wouldn’t embarrass the establishment when she left. But the little girl was surprisingly agile—a group of women in soft red silks and fragrant perfumes tried to catch her, yet not a single one succeeded.

Dongfang Zhen chuckled, “If she doesn’t wish to, let her be.”

However, Shiyun didn’t resist the woman who had cared for Shen Chunyi. The woman whispered a few words to her, and only then did Shiyun calm down. The woman patted Shiyun’s shoulder, pushed her toward Dongfang Zhen, and said with a smile, “I’m afraid we’ll have to trouble the Immortal Master to tolerate this little one. She’s a bit grimy all over.”

Dongfang Zhen replied, “It’s no trouble.”

And so, Shiyun followed them back to Taiwu Mountain with her hair still a tangled mess.

Shen Chunyi’s foot hadn’t fully healed, so he lagged at the back of the group, limping along, just happening to walk side by side with Shiyun. He tried to strike up a conversation with her, but Shiyun avoided his gaze, the two always keeping a few steps apart.

Shen Chunyi asked indifferently, “What’s your name?”

Shiyun mumbled something so softly it was almost inaudible, and Shen Chunyi couldn’t make it out.

“What’s your name?”

Shen Chunyi still couldn’t hear clearly. “Shi what?”

Shiyun mumbled again.

Dongfang Zhen, noticing Shen Chunyi hadn’t followed, turned back and asked, “What were you two talking about?”

Shen Chunyi raised his hands innocently, “Nothing.”

But Shi Yun suddenly dropped to her knees with a thud and kowtowed firmly to Dongfang Zhen, her forehead hitting the ground with a solid thump. She dared not look up, yet her tone held no trace of timidity: “I beg Master to bestow a name upon me.”

Dongfang Zhen was slightly curious. Names were given by parents; unless one was a homeless child with no memory of their origins, people grew accustomed to their own names and wouldn’t adapt well to a new one. He asked, “Aren’t you called Shi Yun?”

“Poetic and picturesque, with the fragrance of rue filling the room”—it was quite a beautiful name.

Shen Chunyi stood to the side with his arms crossed, his intentions unclear. Seeing her actions, he chuckled coolly, “I also think this name doesn’t suit you very well. Master, why not give her a new one?”

Shi Yun’s shoulders, pressed against the ground, seemed to tremble slightly, yet she remained upright, refusing to bend even while kneeling and kowtowing.

Dongfang Zhen said, “You shut up.”

Shen Chunyi fell silent. Shi Yun kept her head lowered, her forehead pressed to the ground, her expression hidden. She simply said she didn’t like it.

Dongfang Zhen pondered for a moment, weighing his words carefully, then said, “Shi (时) signifies opportunity, Yun (韵) signifies rhythm.” How about ‘Time Rhyme’?”

Shi Yun kowtowed again with such force that Shen Chunyi winced at the sound: “Thank you, Master, for bestowing this name.”

Seeing her so moved, Dongfang Zhen couldn’t help but smile. “Get up. If you bruise your forehead, I’ll have to send Shen Chunyi to tend to your wounds.”

Shi Yun hurriedly patted the dirt from her tattered clothes and scrambled to her feet.

As time passed, Dongfang Zhen increasingly felt that his decision to rename the young girl had been a wise one.

The name Shi Yun simply didn’t suit her—not because the characters were poor, but because their gentle, delicate connotations clashed with the calm and reserved temperament she developed as she grew older. It was as jarring as calling a towering, burly man “Su Ruanruan” (meaning “soft and gentle”).

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