The Immortal Venerable Used Me and Then Abandoned Me - Chapter 10

The loud sound startled both the man and the crane in the courtyard. Jian Zhu looked at the tightly closed window slit, then turned to meet the gaze of the spirit crane.

In the bird’s tiny eyes was written a massive amount of confusion.

Jian Zhu reached out to embrace the plump crane, its soft wing feathers brushing against the crook of his shoulder. “Why does your master blow his top at the slightest thing? It’s not like anyone provoked him.”

The spirit crane remained silent, its wings flapping with a rhythmic pudda-pudda.

Having finished planting the seedlings, Jian Zhu tidied up the courtyard. The freshly turned soil was soon sealed again by the cold air, and a layer of frost formed over the vegetable sprouts.

Once he finished, he glanced at the motionless window, clapped the dirt off his hands, and turned to head back.

The next day, as soon as Jian Zhu entered the academy, Senior Sister Xu called out to him in a low voice.

She felt guilty. “Did the Immortal Venerable punish you yesterday?”

“How could he?” Jian Zhu said earnestly. “The Immortal Venerable is a good person.”

“That’s a relief.” Senior Sister Xu shifted her concern to the seedlings. “Did you find a place to plant them?”

“I found a piece of prime real estate.”

“How do you know it’s prime real estate?”

Jian Zhu tucked his hands into his sleeves. “The place where the Immortal Venerable lives is naturally prime real estate.”

Senior Sister Xu: “…What?”

Before they could discuss it further, Elder Hui Yu stepped through the door, clutching yellow paper and cinnabar. “Everyone, to your seats!”

The conversation cut off, and Senior Sister Xu drifted back to her seat in a daze. Seeing that all the disciples were seated, Elder Hui Yu began today’s lecture on Talisman Arrays.

In the art of crafting talismans and arrays, “Innate Talismans” rely on a single spark of spiritual inspiration, while “Acquired Talismans” involve complex rituals. Since they were practicing Daoist talismans as a group, they didn’t need to perform incantations or blessings; they were only learning the brushwork of the scripts.

Everyone present was at the Golden Core or Nascent Soul stage, so the talisman techniques they practiced weren’t particularly profound. Jian Zhu took one look; for him, these were things he could complete with a flick of his wrist.

After Hui Yu finished his explanation, the disciples buried their heads in practice.

Jian Zhu held a sheet of yellow paper. As his cinnabar ground against the coarse surface, the ink flowed like a soaring serpent coiling through clouds. Right before the final stroke, his wrist paused slightly, and he intentionally left a few flaws.

Having finished one talisman, he propped his chin on his hand to pass the time.

Taking advantage of the gap, Hui Yu was also researching a talisman array. Innate talismans don’t require cinnabar and ink; high-level masters can draw talismans in the air with their fingers, and their power is even greater than those on yellow paper.

His fingertips traced the air over a piece of yellow paper. The paper fluttered without wind as a talisman array slowly formed upon it.

Jian Zhu’s gaze fixed on the nearly completed Daoist talisman, his eyes narrowing slightly.

What Hui Yu was drawing should have been a “Yuan-Gathering Talisman.” However, the “Talisman Head” was positioned at the Zi station, and the “Talisman Core” was near the Shen station. Right now, it happened to be the third quarter of the Chen hour—the “Heavenly Heart” was in its palace, and the “Straight Talisman” of Taiyin followed the reverse path of the Yang Escape.

If this talisman were completed, it would inevitably trigger thunder and fire.

The moment the “Talisman Feet” were about to take shape, a piece of cinnabar stone shot through the air. Whoosh! The Talisman Core was shattered, and a cluster of flames erupted from the paper!

Hui Yu felt as if he’d been struck by a mallet, suddenly realizing his mistake. Cold sweat soaked his back as he immediately used his spiritual power to envelop the ruined paper, the green smoke dissipating with a hiss.

The anomaly caused the disciples to look up one after another. “Elder?”

“It was my mistake.” Hui Yu wiped the sweat from his brow, unable to imagine what would have happened if the talisman had been completed and the thunder-fire had descended. Once he regained his composure, he looked toward the back row. “You understand the Nine Stars and Eight Trigrams?”

Startled gazes crossed paths in the classroom as the disciples followed Hui Yu’s line of sight.

Jian Zhu sat lazily behind his desk, one hand resting on his knee and the other on the tabletop, looking as if nothing had happened.

Had they not seen his fair knuckles stained with smears of cinnabar powder and a deep red mark near his thumbnail, they might have actually believed him.

Hui Yu said with certainty, “I know it was you who acted just now.”

Under the gazes that were either inquisitive or impressed, Jian Zhu rubbed the powder off his fingertips. “My grip slipped. The stone was digging into my hand.”

Perhaps because of the “getting lost” incident earlier, Hui Yu had actually become somewhat accustomed to his flimsy excuses.

With more than half an hour left until class ended, Hui Yu didn’t pry further and waved his hand for the disciples to continue their practice.

…

The lesson ended.

Jian Zhu packed his desk, but before he could stand up, a circle of people surrounded him to express their gratitude:

“Junior Brother, thanks to your quick action just now.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so proficient in talismans—you even noticed the Elder’s mistake!”

“I was sitting closest to the Elder. When the talisman was nearly done, I felt a sense of impending doom… Thank goodness, or I would have been the first to suffer.”

Jian Zhu nodded. “It was just a small lift of the hand.”

When he said “lift of the hand,” he literally meant it. His classmates chatted with him for a few more minutes before leaving in small groups.

Jian Zhu also stood up, and Senior Brother He walked out with him. “Before, many people were taking a ‘wait-and-see’ approach with you—you know those rumors… but after today, I think everyone feels much closer to you.”

“It’s fine. Time reveals a person’s heart,” Jian Zhu said. He had only come here for “post-disaster reconstruction”; what Jiang Yin did or what others thought didn’t have much to do with him.

He was beginning to understand Huai Wang’s mindset: why care about things that have nothing to do with yourself?

The two walked from the academy toward the front courtyard, preparing for their second class.

Stepping out of the gate, they saw Hui Yu standing in the middle of the path. Upon seeing Jian Zhu, the Elder gave a slight nod. Senior Brother He took the hint, offered his greetings, and left the two of them alone.

Jian Zhu stopped in front of Elder Hui Yu, whose expression had returned to its usual stern and humorless state. Jian Zhu said, “Elder.”

Hui Yu paused for a moment. “Consider today as me owing you a favor. If you need anything in the future, you may come to me…” He frowned. “What is that look on your face?”

Jian Zhu mused, “This doesn’t seem like you.”

Hui Yu flared up. “Is that any way to talk to an Elder!”

Jian Zhu replied, “This doesn’t seem like you, sir.”

“…” Hui Yu’s chest began to heave again. He clutched his heart and glared at the younger man. “Fine. Just remember I owe you one. But let me be clear—one thing is one thing. This doesn’t mean I trust you completely!”

Having said his piece, he let out a “huff” and turned to leave, his neatly tailored Elder’s robes radiating authority with every step.

Jian Zhu watched his silhouette disappear around the corner of the path, the corners of his lips curving into a faint smile.

Then, his smile faded. Elder Hui Yu was known for being rigorous with both himself and others; as a Spirit Severing stage master, he shouldn’t have made a mistake like the one today.

He lowered his eyes and remained silent for a moment. Overhead, the spring sunlight was bright and dazzling, piercing through the foliage to cast dappled shadows on the ground.

Clang— A long, echoing bell toll drifted from afar, signaling the start of the next class. Jian Zhu set off, his long robes swaying through the shifting patterns of light and shadow.

________________________________________

The Allure of the Secular World

Once his studies were finished for the day, Jian Zhu returned to Cang Mountain in the evening.

Instead of going to his own room, he first went to Huai Wang’s courtyard to check on his vegetable seedlings.

The doors and windows of the house were shut; it was unclear if Huai Wang was inside. The courtyard was dotted with specks of emerald green. The spirit crane was acting like a landlord, strutting on its long legs as it patrolled the vegetable patch.

Jian Zhu took a small trowel to loosen the soil while the crane flapped about aimlessly beside him, its wings beating the air with a pa-pa sound.

“Once the Snow-Rain Lettuce grows, I’ll pluck it to make a stew,” Jian Zhu said, breaking the thin frost on the soil surface while painting a beautiful blueprint for the crane. “Don’t worry, if I’m eating the greens, I won’t let you miss out on the broth.”

The spirit crane’s selective comprehension kicked in again, and it excitedly flapped its wings even louder.

The door pushed open with a creak.

Jian Zhu turned his head to see Huai Wang standing in the doorway, an outer robe draped over his shoulders, his long hair loose behind him, and his expression cold and sharp.

“You are too noisy.”

Jian Zhu arched an eyebrow. Was he noisy? He was clearly speaking at a normal volume. The spirit crane froze, burying its head to pretend it didn’t exist.

Jian Zhu pointed to himself. “Pointing at the mulberry…” Then he pointed at the shrunken crane, “…to revile the locust tree?” (Note: An idiom for indirect criticism).

Huai Wang: “…”

Having finished tending to the seedlings, Jian Zhu packed his trowel and prepared to leave. Before he could step out of the courtyard, the youth’s communication stone rang.

It wasn’t a clandestine affair, so Jian Zhu didn’t avoid Huai Wang and projected the image directly.

The next moment, the youth’s face filled with a loneliness as vast as the snow appeared before him. “Are you free today? Come out for a drink.”

Jian Zhu found it a bit hard to resist the boy’s enthusiasm. “Next time.”

“Next time follows next time; how many ‘next times’ can there be!” the youth said with a “tough love” tone. “This is how years are wasted. If you don’t come, who knows when this Young Master will have to move on to another place.”

Jian Zhu recalled that he had already declined once before, and since he had nothing to do today, he nodded in agreement. “Wait for me at the old spot.”

The youth’s mood instantly turned to joy. “Then this Young Master will bring the wine and wait for you!”

“I’m on my way.”

Beside him, Huai Wang’s brow furrowed. Not only was he making plans for drinks, but he was doing it so brazenly, preparing to slip out of the sect right in front of his face. It wasn’t that he was in the mood to police someone’s drinking, but he remembered Jian Zhu’s intoxicated state that night and simply found it… absurd.

The transmission cut off. Jian Zhu was about to leave when he was called back. Huai Wang stood a few paces away. “You are going down the mountain to drink?”

Jian Zhu smiled. “Does the Immortal Venerable care about such things too?”

Huai Wang remained unmoved. “Sect rules state that disciples are not to leave the mountain privately without cause.”

“You can go report me to the Sect Leader.”

“…”

The surrounding air dropped several degrees. Jian Zhu changed his tactic. “Would the Immortal Venerable like to come along?”

If you can’t escape, drag the other person into the mess with you.

Huai Wang gave him a cold look. “I am not going.”

He stood there like ten-thousand-year-old black ice, untouched by the world’s clamor. Jian Zhu looked at him for a few seconds, then suddenly spoke in a soft voice, “I heard the Immortal Venerable spent over a decade in the mortal realm. Do you not miss it at all?”

Huai Wang replied flatly, “I remember none of it. How can I miss it?”

Jian Zhu’s heart gave a jolt, a dull ache spreading through his chest. Without a word, he turned and pushed open the courtyard gate. Huai Wang’s voice came from behind him: “You are still going?”

His robes fluttering, Jian Zhu didn’t look back. “Since the Immortal Venerable doesn’t care for the mortal world, then don’t mind a vulgar person like me either.”

The sun sank into the sea of clouds; the evening was the hour of demons.

Huai Wang stared blankly at the trail of footprints disappearing into the distance for a long while.

…

In the Luqi City Tavern

The youth had secured a partitioned room by the window, sending his servants to wait at the door. Jian Zhu sat across from him. The carved window reflected the red lanterns hanging from the eaves, casting a nine-petaled lotus shadow into the wine cups on the table.

The aroma of the wine was heady. Jian Zhu raised his wrist and took a sip. The youth propped his chin on his hand and looked at him. “I feel like your spirits aren’t very high today. Who upset you?”

“It’s nothing.” Setting down the cup, Jian Zhu’s expression was back to normal. “People always have bouts of sudden, inexplicable sorrow.”

The youth sighed. “Sigh… don’t think about it. Since you’re in a bad mood, it’s the perfect time to use wine to drown your sorrows!”

Jian Zhu remained rational. “I’m afraid of losing control after getting drunk. Better to eliminate the problem at the source.”

“…” The youth didn’t quite understand, but he felt it sounded very fierce and violent.

Two jugs of wine hit the bottom, and the long street was now full of brilliant lanterns. Below the window, the night market was thriving, filled with the sounds of food stalls and street performers.

As the Lin Yuan Sect’s curfew approached, Jian Zhu said his goodbyes to the youth. The boy asked, “Where do you live? Do you need me to send someone to take you back?”

Jian Zhu declined. “No need. The place I live is very secluded.”

The two rose to leave. The door of the partition opened, and a night breeze swept through the hall. The light from the lanterns under the eaves flickered. Jian Zhu turned his head to look outside, and his gaze froze.

In the long, lantern-lit alley, pedestrians were woven together like fabric; dots of firelight looked like flowing water moving between the street and the riverbank. A familiar figure in plain white clothes was weaving through the bustling crowd below.

Jian Zhu: “…” Heh. Saying ‘no’ with his mouth, but here he is.

The youth had walked a few steps when he noticed Jian Zhu wasn’t following. “What is it? What are you looking at?”

“I’m going on ahead.”

“What… Holy crap!”

Amidst the youth’s startled cry, the green-clad figure leaped from the window. The thin gauze, catching the interplay of moonlight and lantern fire, fluttered like a swan feather as he dropped straight into the crowd.