Chapter 43: Is This Hanging Capital Forbidden to Me?

The Crouching Tiger Monument!

Ever since Chen Zhi'an embarked on the path of cultivation, he had lost count of how many times he had heard the legendary name of the Crouching Tiger Monument.

The figures whose names were engraved upon the Crouching Tiger Monument were renowned throughout the realm—such as Si Hougui, the third young master of the Si family, and Li Fushu, whom Chen Zhi'an always kept locked in the depths of his heart.

Both of these men were among the top three hundred and odd names on the Crouching Tiger Monument. Across the vast world, there were perhaps tens of billions of people, yet to be ranked within the top three hundred of the younger generation was a feat truly not to be underestimated.

"The strong carve their names upon the Crouching Tiger Monument, and once inscribed upon it, they grow even stronger..." Chen Zhi'an pondered silently in his heart.

Chu Muye’s crane-feather robe looked as pristine as new. Looking at the young man before him, he suddenly asked, "Chen Zhi'an, do you not care to know whether that Qi Tianchong is dead or alive?"

"You severed one of his arms. If he is dead, then so be it, but if he lives, are you not afraid?"

Chen Zhi'an replied with utter nonchalance, "It is not that I am entirely without fear. But even if that Qi Tianchong has escaped, he committed the grave crime of assassinating a high-ranking imperial official of the current court, the Junior Vice Minister of War. Turbulent as the court may be today, I fear that Qi Tianchong and the entire West Penglai must tuck in their tails and lie low for quite some time. In my humble estimation, for at least the next half-year, I have no need to worry overly much about Qi Tianchong or West Penglai."

A flash of appreciation crossed Chu Muye’s eyes, but he shook his head instead. "Three days ago, when you severed his arm in the courtyard, you declared you were not afraid of death. How is it that now you have grown fearful?"

"A death can be heavier than Mount Tai, or lighter than a swan's feather," Chen Zhi'an said, gritting his teeth as he climbed out of bed. "Uncle Chu is a dear friend of my father. During the affair of the Imperial Academy of Painting and the duel unto death with Zhou Xiujing, he watched over me and even saved my life. Qi Tianchong and Uncle Chu fought to a mutual exhaustion, and I severed his arm. If that could serve as some small assistance, naturally I was unafraid.

Furthermore... West Penglai speaks in lofty, righteous platitudes and has indeed hoodwinked some folk in the pugilistic world and among the common people. Yet, if one observes their actions closely, they are merely a band of highwaymen who pillage homes and slaughter for wealth. No matter how loudly they shout their slogans, they can never wash away the blood stained upon their hands—take, for instance, Wuzhu Prefecture beneath Lotus Flower Mountain.

The entire household of Wuzhu Prefecture was put to the sword, and even more than four hundred orphans could not escape their doom. It filled me with... a profound rage.

Striking with this rage, even if this blade cannot be said to be heavier than Mount Tai, it must surely outweigh a swan's feather. That is why I was not afraid."

"Heavier than Mount Tai, lighter than a swan's feather?" Chu Muye raised an eyebrow and chuckled. "For a mere handyman of the Imperial Academy, you certainly possess a touch of the chivalrous spirit of a knight-errant."

At this point, recalling something else, he sighed and said, "Yet in the Great Yu of today, those who possess a knight-errant's spirit and are willing to draw their swords against injustice seldom live long lives.

In the Suspended Capital, a gluttonous beast sits upon the clouds, looking down upon the Great Yu. It blinds the sovereign's ears, employs petty villains, and fosters an endless succession of cruel officials, making the imperial court and the wider world increasingly terrifying and austere.

Beyond the Suspended Capital, a mass of dark clouds blots out the sun and sky. Who knows how many aristocratic clans and noble families are carrying out their sordid dealings beneath this pall of clouds? Fewer and fewer people within the court do honest work, while the righteous heroes of the pugilistic underworld are constantly swallowed by this fog... Today's era can hardly be called good. Sometimes, you must suppress the fiery temper in your heart just to live a little longer."

Chu Muye offered this advice with utmost solemnity, and Chen Zhi'an knew he was imparting a vital lesson.

"As for this matter, I shall credit you with a meritorious service, and naturally, there will be rewards for you in the future," Chu Muye continued. "If you had not happened to arrive on that day, by the time Chou Sanxiu reached East Abundant Street, my life would likely have been forfeit.

Therefore, Chen Zhi'an, you have also saved my life, and Chu Muye will remember it well."

The soon-to-be-appointed Junior Vice Minister of War spoke with profound earnestness, even addressing himself by name before a junior like Chen Zhi'an.

Chen Zhi'an knew that Chu Muye was making a firm promise. Remembering the incident at the Imperial Academy of Painting, he was just about to say that they were now even.

Suddenly, Chu Muye produced a letter from his sleeve. "Yesterday, your father sent two letters. One was addressed to me, and the other he asked me to pass on to you."

A pleasant surprise flickered across Chen Zhi'an's face. He took the letter and, without avoiding Chu Muye, broke the seal right before him.

He read the letter carefully, then let out a long breath, a trace of helplessness in his eyes.

"So, telling me he would return in a month was merely a deception to comfort me. He had mentioned to me before that he needed to make a far journey; in truth, this time he really has gone far away."

Chen Zhi'an thought silently to himself, "Father has gone to the Suspended Capital, but who knows where he will head after leaving there?"

Thinking of the Suspended Capital, he suddenly understood why his father had lied to him.

For Chen Shuijun, parting was the bitterest thing of all.

He had once endured a parting that lasted seventeen years. Throughout those seventeen years, Chen Zhi'an only remembered how Chen Shuijun had grown increasingly silent, his expression relaxing only when speaking to him or tending to those pear blossoms.

Parting and reunion were the plays endlessly enacted in the mortal world. Only when one grew accustomed to them could one avoid profound sorrow.

Yet Chen Shuijun clearly lacked the privilege of growing accustomed to it, because throughout those seventeen years, he had never reunited with the person he yearned for.

Therefore, Chen Shuijun wished to depart in silence, hoping to reunite in silence one day, perhaps so that there would be fewer tearful farewells.

"Well... at least this father of mine has left me some things." Chen Zhi'an read to the very end of the letter and carefully put it away.

"Your father is still in the Suspended Capital. I wonder if he has managed to see your mother."

Chu Muye felt a pang of lingering emotion. In his mind's eyes, he recalled the days more than a decade ago when he, Chen Shuijun, and Li Yinxi studied together at the Yunkong Academy. Eighteen hasty years had flown by; reflecting on the comings and goings, time flowed like water.

Chen Zhi'an, however, harbored deeper worries. "Father is always taciturn and inept with words, and in daily life he always accommodates others, acting with such gentle warmth? People of this sort are the most vulnerable to bullying. Now that he has gone to the Suspended Capital, I can only wonder if the Li and Si families have subjected him to humiliation."

"Chen Shuijun is taciturn and acts with gentle warmth?" Chu Muye let out a sudden laugh. "Did you know that your father once sat for the imperial examinations and served as a county magistrate?"

Surprised, Chen Zhi'an shook his head.

Chu Muye laughed heartily. "Then do you know what a monumental stir your parents created in the Suspended Capital, and what manner of deeds your taciturn father actually accomplished?"

Chen Zhi'an was just about to inquire further.

Chu Muye, moments ago in high spirits, suddenly looked toward the courtyard and ordered someone to open the gate.

Immediately afterward, Chen Zhi'an saw a broad-shouldered, barrel-chested general clad in dark purple stride into the courtyard.

Li Bodu walked slowly forward, his hands clasped behind his back.

Clad in a dark robe, with a majestic visage, towering stature, and a gaze as sharp as a blade, he radiated an immense sense of oppression.

Chen Zhi'an bowed to Chu Muye without changing his expression. Knowing that Chen Zhi'an wished to return to Qihuang Street, Chu Muye waved a hand, gesturing for him to do as he pleased.

Thus, Chen Zhi'an walked across the courtyard. He did not spare his uncle a single glance, nor did Li Bodu look at him; the two simply brushed past one another.

"Has the General ever drawn his saber against that peerless martial artist of the world?" Chu Muye invited Li Bodu to be seated and personally brewed the tea.

After a few moments of silence, Li Bodu shook his head. "Gong Longsu is far too tyrannical. As he walked from afar, he pressed the clouds and mist in the sky until they shattered into pieces, and a dragon faintly revealed itself within the vapors—that was not his divine avatar, but a mount he captured from the Longzhu Temple."

"He stood there like Mount Tai descending in person, like an enraged sea forming towering waves. I forced down the terror in my chest, intending to draw my saber, yet my entire body's primordial essence and even my divine avatar were pinned down by that terrifying might."

Hearing Li Bodu's words, Chu Muye did not feel for a single moment that Li Bodu was weak.

"Gong Longsu's martial dao commands the Kunlun and touches the Dragon's Gate; it is no shame to be suppressed by his martial aura. General Li need not take it to heart. It is fortunate indeed that he came to Tiger Hill Mountain without refining its spiritual veins. Now that he has departed Suwu Prefecture, the General can naturally set his mind at ease."

Li Bodu nodded slightly and added, "When Gong Longsu arrived, the prefectural yamen and the Songhuai Army were far too nervous, and consequently grew negligent regarding the safety of Junior Minister Chu. Bodu has come specifically to offer his apologies."

Chu Muye fell silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "General Li, are the prejudices of the aristocratic clans truly so important? No matter what, Chen Zhi'an is the son of Li Yinxi, and the blood of your Li family flows through his veins. Why must the General hold him in such disdain?"

Hearing Chu Muye suddenly bring this up, Li Bodu was clearly taken aback.

He picked up his teacup and took a sip. "The blood of a noble clan is naturally precious. Lord Chu does not hail from a humble background, nor from the common populace; the Chu family is a great clan of Hejian and a lineage steeped in literary tradition. Surely my lord knows that for a daughter of a noble house to marry a man like Chen Shuijun is, in itself, a disgrace."

Chu Muye replied, "The imperial court established the imperial examinations precisely to provide a path upward for ordinary folk. Chen Shuijun was the top scholar of the fourth year of Dazhi, a disciple of Yunkong Academy, and his cultivation talent could certainly be considered extraordinary.

Give a man like that some time, and even if he could not ascend the Riding Whale Monument, he would surely have made his mark in officialdom. By keeping people at a thousand paces, the Li family has brought about many tragedies.

Yinxi... was also a victim."

"Yinxi is naturally a victim," Li Bodu shook his head. "Chen Shuijun's luck was indeed exceptional for him to win the top scholar's position, but his humble origin destined him to achieve no great accomplishments—to say nothing of comparing him to the six great surnames of our Great Yu.

Back then, my father intended to betroth Yinxi to the young patriarch of the Xie clan, yet those two quietly produced a bastard behind our backs, causing my father to lose all face and preventing the Li family from ascending to even greater heights.

Lord Chu, are you aware of these past events?"

"I am well aware," Chu Muye paused slightly while pouring the tea, then placed the purple clay teapot back onto the charcoal fire. "Yet I also know that it was the Li family that broke its promise first. Furthermore... General Xuanzi, the Li family has you, Li Bodu, and Li Zhoubai, while the patriarch of the Li family holds a high position. If one were to add Chen Shuijun and Li Yinxi to the mix, what need was there to rely on the Xie clan? What need was there for aristocratic marriages? With the four of you, could the family not have risen even higher?"

A flicker crossed Li Bodu's eyes, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a sneer. "Without heaven-defying divine arts or world-shaking literary works, how could our Li family rise higher? Chen Shuijun cultivated the Four Seasons Cicada; I told him back then that the Four Seasons Cicada is harder than ascending to heaven, with countless predecessors exhausting their efforts in vain—he could never master it.

To this day, after a lifetime of cultivation, he remains merely in the Jade Gem Realm. Relying on him, how could my Li family advance further?"

"Our only hope now lies in Zhoubai. If he can secure a place upon the Riding Whale Monument, my Li family's purple-and-crimson glory can be sustained for several more decades."

Chu Muye frowned slightly. "How does the General know that Chen Shuijun truly cannot capture that Four Seasons Cicada? Perhaps Chen Shuijun has already made breakthroughs in the path of the sword, which is why he went to the Suspended Capital to retrieve the sword he left behind in the Li estate."

"Chen Shuijun went to retrieve his sword?" A trace of surprise flashed in the depths of Li Bodu's eyes, but the smile at the corner of his mouth instantly grew thicker. "The Suspended Capital belongs to the noble families. To Chen Shuijun, the lintel of the Li estate remains as lofty and unreachable as ever! He... cannot pull out that sword."

Chu Muye shook his head, seemingly marveling at Li Bodu's stubbornness.

Yet his next sentence instantly caused Li Bodu to slam his palm on the table and leap to his feet.

"I intend to take Chen Zhi'an to the Suspended Capital."

"What? Absolutely not!"

***

Enduring the agonizing pain throughout his body, Chen Zhi'an returned to the familiar little courtyard on Qihuang Street.

Having been away for several days, pear blossoms covered the ground.

As spring gradually faded, the pear blossoms filling the courtyard were also withering.

This was the first time Chen Zhi'an had entered Chen Shuijun's room since his departure.

His room was simple and neat, containing only a bed, a desk, a meditation mat, and walls lined with books and manuscripts.

Following the instructions in the letter, he moved several books aside from the bookshelf and discovered two yellowed ancient texts hidden deeper within.

"You had already begun your cultivation before I left, and by now you must have caught a glimpse of the threshold. Reading profound techniques after catching a glimpse of the threshold makes them much clearer and makes it easier to comprehend wondrous mystic arts."

Thus had Chen Shuijun written in his letter.

Chen Zhi'an was somewhat surprised. For over a decade, Chen Shuijun had played the role of an ordinary person and had never taught him cultivation.

Now, at over seventeen years of age, and having departed, Chen Shuijun had left behind two volumes of texts.

One of them was a manual for primordial essence, which Chen Zhi'an read through carefully.

"This primordial essence manual is quite precious. Starting from nourishing qi, it can be practiced all the way to the Jade Gem Realm; it should be a third-grade mystic art, though... it still falls short of my White Jade Cicada Shedding Scripture."

He opened the other ancient text, and after studying it, his expression finally shifted somewhat.

"A third-grade profound art, the Crucible Body-Refining Precious Manual... My father certainly thought things through thoroughly. Starting qi nourishment while simultaneously accompanying it with body-refining... Practicing this profound art now is quite fitting for me."

Chen Zhi'an carefully stored away the body-refining profound art and put the other mystic art back. As his gaze swept across the room, he caught sight of a piece of scrap paper resting beside Chen Shuijun's pillow.

A line of poetry was written upon the scrap paper:

"I have someone I yearn for, far away in a distant land."

Chen Zhi'an silently read the line of poetry and shook his head.

He thought of the Suspended Capital, of the Li family in the capital, of Li Fushu, and of the woman in white whom he so often dreamed of...

"This Suspended Capital—is it truly a place I cannot go?"