The Immortal Venerable Used Me and Then Abandoned Me - Chapter 7

By the time Jian Zhu finished changing and emerged from his room, dusk was fast approaching.

He was still wearing the same green robes, but he had layered a gossamer-thin gauze shroud over them, light as a cicada’s wing. His Senior Brother had specifically warned him not to dress too shabbily to avoid being looked down upon, so he had added a jeweled jade belt around his waist. The bright crimson vermilion jade ornament hanging at his hip was particularly eye-catching.

The Crane-Greeting Platform was deserted. Candlelight glowed within Huai Wang’s courtyard, where the resident crane was busy preening its feathers.

Jian Zhu didn’t linger, strolling past the courtyard gate.

He had only taken a few steps when the white crane suddenly flapped its wings and lunged toward him.

Perhaps his perception of the bird being “timid” was a bit too deep-seated; Jian Zhu only reacted when the bird’s beak accurately nipped the vermilion jade at his waist.

Not daring to use his spiritual power, he could only tug back at his belt with one hand. “Good boy, this isn’t something you can eat.”

The white crane took advantage of the species barrier, feigning ignorance like a bratty crane cub, persistently trying to snatch the flashy jade away. Its powerful wings flapped with a rhythmic whoosh-whoosh, kicking up a miniature gale.

In no time, the belt was hanging loosely around his hips, and his outer robe had been tugged so hard it slipped off one shoulder. Without the belt’s restraint, his lapels spread open wantonly.

Jian Zhu felt a pang of distress. “Is this how Huai Wang taught you? I don’t believe it.”

Just as they were locked in a stalemate, the courtyard door opened with a creak.

The commotion at the gate had alerted Huai Wang, who stepped out from inside. He asked coldly, “What are you two doing?”

One man and one bird stopped simultaneously.

Suddenly, the white crane regained its ability to understand human speech and realized it had done something it shouldn’t have. With a frantic flap of its wings, it vanished instantly.

Jian Zhu: “…”

For a moment, only the two of them remained.

Jian Zhu was still clutching his lapels with one hand and gripping his belt with the other. The shimmering jewels dangled from his waist to his hip bone, peeking out from beneath the translucent gauze. With one shoulder half-exposed, the cold mountain wind rushed into his collar, raising goosebumps on a small patch of porcelain-pale skin.

He thought to himself that he must look exactly like a decent young lad who had just been mugged.

Huai Wang’s gaze fixed for a split second before he looked away. “It likes beautiful jewels.”

Jian Zhu gathered his clothes back together in a few quick motions. “Being a gold-digger from a young age is wrong. You need to discipline it more.”

“It is eight hundred years old.”

“…” Jian Zhu stalled for a second. “Then it’s a case of being old and shameless.”

Huai Wang was choked into silence. Seeing Jian Zhu turn to leave, he regained his authority. “Where are you going?”

Jian Zhu’s footsteps halted.

Just as Huai Wang expected an explanation, Jian Zhu turned back with a smirk. He hooked his fallen jeweled belt back into place with a casual flick, radiating a sense of nonchalant elegance.

Adopting Huai Wang’s own tone from earlier that day, he said, “What does it have to do with the Immortal Venerable?”

Without waiting for a response, he pulled a carved folding fan from his spatial bag. With a sharp thwack, he unfurled it with style and strolled grandly past Huai Wang.

…

In the evening, Luqi City was alive with orange-red lanterns that looked like a long dragon winding through the streets. The cries of street vendors blurred into the dim yellowish twilight.

Jian Zhu followed several Senior Brothers through the bustling crowds. Senior Brother He glanced sideways at him. “Junior Brother, are you in a particularly good mood?”

Recalling the scene from moments ago, the corners of Jian Zhu’s mouth tilted upward. “Going out to have fun. Of course, my mood is good.”

Senior Brother He burst into laughter and led them with practiced ease straight into a tavern.

The interior was filled with carved beams and painted rafters, echoing with the sound of string and woodwind instruments. Senior Brother He requested a partitioned area by the window. Once seated, they ordered a few side dishes, and a songstress entered to play the zither and sheng.

Jian Zhu listened for a while but couldn’t find any particular interest in it. Once the food and wine were served, he buried his head in his work, focusing entirely on eating and effectively blocking out the music and dancing.

Senior Brother Chang, who was sitting nearby, noticed and asked, “Junior Brother Jian Zhu, why aren’t you appreciating the folk arts of the common mortals?”

Senior Brother He slapped his forehead. “Oh! I forgot, Junior Brother isn’t interested in ladies. Should I call in a few handsome young gentlemen instead…?”

Jian Zhu declined instantly. “That really won’t be necessary.”

Senior Brother Chang laughed. “Fair enough. Junior Brother would surely look down upon the young lads in these mortal taverns. What about those in our sect?”

Senior Brother He had a bit to drink; his cheeks were flushed, and his gossip instincts were burning bright. “Junior Brother, do you know how many people in our sect are paying attention to you?”

Jian Zhu thought of the non-stop traffic past his window. “It’s hard not to know.”

Senior Brother He continued, “Senior Brother Luo has already mentioned you twice in front of us. Hey, do you know Senior Brother Luo?”

“I don’t.” He sighed. “But I imagine Elder Hui Yu has mentioned me far more often.”

The Senior Brothers burst into laughter, then turned back to enjoy the music, dropping the subject.

After a while, Jian Zhu stood up. “Seniors, I’m going out for a breath of fresh air.”

“Go ahead, Junior Brother. Just don’t get lost.”

He pushed the door open, the wood muffling the sounds of singing and flute music behind him. The hallway was breezy, dispersing the scent of wine, food, and rouge he had picked up in the private room.

Jian Zhu adjusted his outer robe and headed downstairs. After only a few steps, he encountered a young man coming up, dressed luxuriously and followed by several servants.

The stairwell was narrow, and both parties stopped simultaneously. Just as Jian Zhu was about to step aside, the youth tilted his chin up and spoke: “Let this Young Master pass first.”

Hearing this, Jian Zhu did the opposite and stayed put. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and leaned lazily against the railing, his jeweled belt draped loosely in a way that looked almost like a provocation. “Why?”

“Do you have any idea who this Young Master is?”

“I only give way to the old, the weak, the sick, and the disabled.” Jian Zhu asked, “Which of those identities do you claim?”

The youth’s face flushed with rage. “If you don’t move, don’t blame this Young Master for being impolite!”

Jian Zhu replied benevolently, “I won’t blame you.”

“…You’re asking for it!” The youth’s chest heaved. He drew a flexible sword with a backhand motion and slashed toward him.

Jian Zhu didn’t even dodge. He raised his hand and flicked his finger against the side of the blade—Clang! The flexible sword was slapped back against the inner wall, leaving a mark.

He looked down, his profile catching the shifting light and shadows from the carved lamps on the roof outside the corridor. The thin gauze of his sleeves looked like mist enveloping clouds.

The youth froze. “You…”

Suddenly, he sheathed his sword and stomped up a few steps. “That finger-flick move just now was so cool! It had such ‘big energy’ (bige/style). Quick, teach me!”

Jian Zhu: “…”

Not wishing to linger, he said, “The style is built-in.”

The youth quietly fished out half a jug of wine from his pouch, attempting to bribe him. “We can drink while we talk.”

Jian Zhu arched an eyebrow. “Is this a friendly drink or a ‘punishment’ drink?”

“This is a specialty fine wine from my hometown.” The youth literally spun him around. “Stop being so nitpicky; hardly anyone has ever caught this Young Master’s eye until now!”

“…”

A moment later, the two were sitting across from each other in a top-tier private room.

The youth’s face was like the weather in June—ever-changing. One moment he was furious, the next he was pulling out his hidden stash of wine to proudly invite Jian Zhu to taste it.

Two cups of clear liquor sat on the table, the aroma filling the room. The wine was amber-colored, slightly tart on the tongue but sweet in the throat; it was indeed a fine vintage.

Jian Zhu, deciding to make the best of it, clinked glasses. They talked about the heavens and the earth, mountains and rivers, and how to flick one’s finger with maximum style.

Amidst the discussion, the wine flowed freely down their throats.

After half a jug, the youth had become quite familiar, grabbing Jian Zhu to vent his woes. “This Young Master is currently running away from home to escape my family’s constraints. Do you have a place I can stay?”

Jian Zhu smoothly slid his sleeve out of the boy’s grip. “To tell you the truth, I’m not a local either. My ex-husband got cold feet and ran away from our wedding; I’ve come thousands of miles from the countryside to track him down.”

The youth was instantly filled with pity. “How are you even more miserable than I am?”

Jian Zhu: “…”

The two wore “masks of pain” and sympathized with each other for a while until the voices of the Senior Brothers drifted in from outside:

“Junior Brother! Junior Brother—”

“He said he was going for air, how is he not back yet?”

Tap. Jian Zhu set his cup on the table and stood up to say goodbye under the youth’s confused gaze. “It’s getting late. Thank you for the hospitality, but I’m heading back.”

“Wait.” The youth fished a communication stone out of his sleeve and tossed it to Jian Zhu. “Fellow wanderers at the end of the world. Let’s keep in touch.”

Jian Zhu took the stone and corrected him, “The term is ‘tide-riders of fate’.”

________________________________________

Moonlight, Wine, and Desire

The group of disciples made it back to the sect gate just before the curfew.

It was just past the hour of Hai (9–11 PM), and the night sky hung low.

When Jian Zhu returned to Cang Mountain, his surroundings were pitch black, save for the snow on the ground reflecting the moonlight with a blinding whiteness. No lights were on in Huai Wang’s courtyard. He paused for a moment, intending to return to the back mountain, but when he turned, he spotted a figure on the Crane-Greeting Platform.

Under the bright moon, a slender silhouette stood at the cliff’s edge. His silver hair was unbound, nearly merging with the clear moonlight.

Jian Zhu froze.

Perhaps his mind was empty from the white light, or the wine was evaporating through his system; his heart began to throb, and a surge of excitement and intense emotion suddenly churned within him.

He walked toward Huai Wang.

The night breeze drifted slowly, carrying the intoxicating scent of wine into the cold, crisp air.

Huai Wang had known Jian Zhu was back for a while, but he simply hadn’t bothered with him. Detecting the scent of alcohol now, he frowned and turned around.

There were only two or three paces between them.

Jian Zhu looked at Huai Wang, his gaze tracing the other’s brow, the bridge of his nose, and his thin lips in meticulous detail. The alcohol amplified his hidden thoughts; the night had pierced the veil used for concealment during the day.

Huai Wang spoke, “You’ve been drinking.”

“Mhm,” Jian Zhu murmured, his voice softer than usual.

He saw his own reflection in Huai Wang’s eyes. The faint flush at the corners of his eyes spread to the tips of his ears, the heat of those small points peeking through his black hair.

It was as if he could no longer hide the tide of his emotions, finally letting a slip show.

But then again, so what?

Jian Zhu looked up at Huai Wang and smiled. Beneath the moonlight, the combination of wine and beauty was intoxicating. His eyes swirled with a thick, heavy longing and a rising tide of desire, as if they were meant to be kneaded into the crimson flush at the corners of his eyes and poured into the moonbeams.

It was an ambiguity so breathtaking it was startling.

Huai Wang stared at him, the scent of wine lingering at the tip of his nose suddenly becoming intense and pungent.

A fleeting moment felt like an eternity. Jian Zhu only smiled; without saying a word, he turned to leave. He swayed slightly with every few steps as he headed toward the back mountain, his fluttering gauze shroud sweeping away the restless air.

Once his silhouette had vanished into the forest of ancient parasols, Huai Wang lowered his eyes. With a sharp shing, his sword, Wen Xian, leapt from its sheath.

His sword moves were continuous, like flickering phantoms or flying blossoms. In a single breath, forty-nine forms fell; the sword-wind whipped up the snow from the ground, sending flakes flying upward within a five-pace radius.

The tip of the blade sliced across the exposed earth, leaving behind a deep, jagged furrow.

Finishing the form, he sheathed the blade. Huai Wang walked back to his courtyard through the rustling, falling snow. He thought to himself that Jian Zhu must have been dazed by the wine and mistaken him for that ex-husband.

Truly a chaotic mess.

The courtyard door opened, then shut with a creak. The Crane-Greeting Platform was once again deserted.

Only the thin, cool snow remained, falling silently and steadily until it covered that long, deep furrow in the earth.