September 2, 2021Beansprout
The Chief couldn’t help blanching on seeing the contents of the letter. Thereafter, however, he recalled how the Chang family had treated Chang Er when she had been living in the farmlands. Perhaps it was not so shocking, after all.
“That ungrateful wench! How dare she treat us this way?!” Chang Er’s sister-in-law stamped her foot in a rage. She had been hoping that Chang Er would send some gold and silver back with the clothes she’d asked for – never in her wildest dreams did she think that Chang Er would not only refuse, but make them lose face on top of it!
“Shut up,” Chang Sheng said, his face red with anger. He took the letter and turned to leave.
The Chief rolled his eyes, got people to prepare his carriage, and left to go to the Jingang Sect.
Chen Ziqi had no idea what happened in Jiuru Town. At this very moment, he was standing in the main hall of Danyang Palace, his arms full of gold and jewels that he wasn’t sure what to do with.
Dan Yi had moved into Danyang Palace with Chen Ziqi when the repairs were completed. The Emperor, Empress and the older princes bestowed many gifts on Dan Yi for the occasion.
The room was full of antique jade objects, precious gems and shining pearls, to the point whereby the floor could barely be seen. Chen Ziqi couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. It was all so shiny and sparkly! Dan Yi had said that he could pick something out for himself, and Chen Ziqi was in a quandary; how was he to decide when everything looked so wonderful?
“There’s no gold?” Chen Ziqi asked, hanging by the waist over a large chest. His butt was sticking up as he poked around in it.
Dan Yi looked up from his book and gave him a patronizing look. He didn’t bother to answer Chen Ziqi’s question.
Linghe took pity on Chen Ziqi. She smiled as she squatted next to Chen Ziqi. “Dianxia, all these things are more valuable than gold. Look at this little horse, for example. It’s made of bloodred jade, and it’s worth a hundred taels of gold,” she said.
Chen Ziqi raised his head to look at the jade horse Linghe was pointing at, then took the horse and clasped it to his chest in one swift motion.
“There’s also this Yangzhi jade ornament that dates back to the previous dynasty. This is worth another hundred taels of gold,” Linghe said, picking out a jade lamp in the shape of a plum blossom tree for Chen Ziqi to look at.
Chen Ziqi immediately reached out to snatch this jade lamp as well.
An incense time later, Chen Ziqi’s arms were full of precious things. He was like a little hamster surrounded by a pile of corn kernels that couldn’t decide which to eat first, picking up one then abandoning it subsequently to pick up another kernel. Chen Ziqi had the jade horse grasped tightly in one hand, a string of luminescent pearls wound around his neck, and he was standing protectively over a set of four table plaques.
Dan Yi didn’t say a word, and just left him to his own devices.
“What’s that?” Chen Ziqi asked, pointing. He had suddenly discovered a huge plate full of pearls.
Linghe and Lingguan got up and brought the item over. It was a windchime made entirely of pearls the size of lotus seeds. There were eight rows of pearls, all strung on thin silver wire.
“This is a gift from the High Priest,” Linghe said, smiling.
The High Priest…
Speaking of the High Priest, Chen Ziqi recalled that he hadn’t seen his little red chick in quite some time, and that he had been intending to ask the High Priest about it.
Chen Ziqi slunk off to the Taizhen Palace when they next had a break from lessons at Chunxi Hall. He’d always run amok on his own when he’d lived in Jiuru Town, so he was very good at finding his way about. He arrived at the High Priest’s residence without much difficulty.
Taizhen Palace was part of the external palace, together with the other palaces that were used for managing government affairs, such as the Taiji Palace and the Imperial Study. It had been designated as the High Priest’s residence since the founding of the dynasty. The whole palace was made of spotless white marble. It looked very out of place in the midst of the other palace buildings, which all had red walls and green glazed porcelain tiles.
Guards in silver armour stood at attention outside Taizhen Palace. When Chen Ziqi approached, the guards immediately crossed their spears, blocking his entrance.
“I want to see the High Priest,” Chen Ziqi said, showing them the jade pendant that indicated he was an Imperial Prince.
“The High Priest does not meet with the princes. Dianxia, please leave,” the guard said. The spears had immediately returned to their original positions once the guards knew he was a prince, but they still did not allow him to enter.
Chen Ziqi saw that someone had gone into the Taizhen Palace to inform the High Priest that he had requested to meet him, and so refused to leave. Before long, one of the High Priest’s veiled assistants came out. “The High Priest invites the Seventh Prince to come in,” the assistant said in a soft voice.
The guards were dumbfounded. They allowed Chen Ziqi to pass this time.
A grove of pagoda trees was planted in the gardens of Taizhen Palace. It looked like there was some kind of pattern as to how they were planted, but Chen Ziqi couldn’t figure out its significance. He followed the assistant up the winding, narrow road, and finally exited the grove of pagoda trees after about a quarter of an hour.
“Dianxia, this way, please,” the assistant stopped at the entrance of the main hall, gesturing for Chen Ziqi to enter on his own.
The main hall of Taizhen Palace was a high-ceilinged hall paved with polished black marble slabs. When Chen Ziqi stepped over the threshold, he immediately felt a gush of cool air on his face.
The interior of the Taizhen Palace looked to be very minimalistic. There was very little furniture, just a few small futons that looked like they had been randomly tossed onto the ground. The High Priest sat behind a short table, drawing something with a fine-tipped brush dipped in red cinnabar ink.
The threshold was about a foot tall, and Chen Ziqi’s short little legs couldn’t step across it directly. He had to sit on it, swing his legs over, then hop down on the other side. The High Priest heard the sound he made when he landed and looked up. He couldn’t help smiling in amusement when he saw the awkward way Chen Ziqi had entered the hall.
“Dianxia, you’re finally here,” the High Priest said, raising a hand. One of the futons glided over, unassisted, and came to rest next to the High Priest’s table. “Have a seat.”
Telekinesis! Chen Ziqi’s eyes were as big as saucers. Da Chen had boasted about seeing this when he was in Jiuru Town. That had been the only time he had heard about such gongfu, and this was the first time he had ever seen it personally.
He sat down obediently on a futon. He really wanted to look around curiously, but he didn’t dare to do so in the presence of the solemn High Priest. His hands grasped the edge of the short table as he peered at what the High Priest was doing.
On a snow white piece of rice paper about three feet long, the High Priest was painting an incredibly complex pattern of clouds in cinnabar ink. His brush did not leave the paper even once; it was all painted in one long brush stroke.
“Is this some kind of spell?” Chen Ziqi asked softly.
The High Priest finished up and put the thin brush into a green jade brush washer. The red cinnabar ink immediately diffused out of the brush and into the water, looking like wriggling koi fish in a pond.
“Was Dianxia’s purpose in coming here to ask me about spells?” the High Priest asked, smiling at him in amusement.
“No,” Chen Ziqi said, scratching his head. He was here for something much more important. “You know that little red chicken in Zhanghua Temple? That’s the Protector-God of our dynasty, isn’t it?”
When the High Priest heard Chen Ziqi use the word “chicken”, the corners of his mouth twitched involuntarily. “It is what Dianxia thinks it is,” he said cryptically.
What kind of answer was that? Chen Ziqi frowned. “Where has it gone?” he asked.
It had already been quite some time since he last saw that divine chicken. Surely it hadn’t been caught and made into chicken soup by one of the palace staff?
“He’s right by your side,” the High Priest said. He opened a small sandalwood box sitting on the short-legged table and took out a tiny scroll that was only about the size of his palm. He extended this to Chen Ziqi. “When you need him, he will appear,” he said.
Chen Ziqi accepted the scroll and opened it. It was an elaborate gongbi painting* depicting that little red divine chicken standing with its wings flared on a rock, looking very dignified.
*T/N: This is a realist painting technique. See the wiki page for more details.
“Dianxia, if you have any other questions, you can always look for me in Taizhen Palace,” the High Priest said. He pushed a white jade pendant into Chen Ziqi’s hands. “There’s only one thing that I must ask Dianxia to keep in mind. Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone that the little red bird ate your cherry.”
Chen Ziqi gripped the small jade pendant in his hand, in a bit of a daze as he walked back to his residence. The High Priest’s words resonated in his mind, and a chilly feeling pulsed repeatedly from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
“Seventeen years ago, the prince whose cherry was eaten was murdered after he left Zhanghua Temple…”
Murdered…
After Chen Ziqi left, a man slipped out from behind the screen in Taizhen Palace. He wore blue gauze robes on his slender body, had a handsome face, and held a jade-boned fan in one hand. Who could it be but Lan Shanyu?
“Why didn’t you want me to meet him?” Lan Shanyu asked, nuzzling against the High Priest affectionately.
“It’s not the right time,” the High Priest said. He rolled up the cinnabar ink painting in front of him, and gave it to Lan Shanyu. “A three-foot train would be good.”
“This pattern is very nicely done. Qinghan, you’re getting better at this,” Lan Shanyu said, addressing the High Priest by his courtesy name. He grinned cheekily at the High Priest as he put the painting into his sleeves.
“What did you call me?” the High Priest asked, giving him a cold stare.
“Ah! It hurts, it hurts! I’m sorry! Ge, I’m sorry!”
Back at Danyang Palace, Chen Ziqi was squatting in the grass in a melancholy mood. “Divine Chicken, come here quickly, I need you right now,” he said.
“What are you doing?” Dan Yi asked. His shadow fell over Chen Ziqi’s back as he walked over.
Chen Ziqi leapt three feet into the air in shock. “How is it that your feet don’t make any sound?!” he exclaimed. He rolled his eyes inwardly. Dan Yi wasn’t even the divine chicken, why did he bother coming out right at this time?
Dan Yi didn’t reply to this comment. He tugged Chen Ziqi over to the water pavilion in the middle of the pond. “It’s time to practice your martial arts,” he said.
“Ah…” Chen Ziqi said, a pained expression on his face. These few days, Dan Yi had dragged him to practice like clockwork, making him repeat countering his Cloud Dispelling Fists with the Roving Dragon Follows the Moon. He had only just started learning the technique and wasn’t Dan Yi’s match at all, so he took a sound beating every day.
They got into position, and started the practice.
When they first started, Dan Yi did the moves very slowly, and Chen Ziqi could still keep up. When Dan Yi struck out with his left arm, Chen Ziqi would use his right arm to block, the Roving Dragon winding up gracefully to catch hold of Dan Yi’s small arm. The Cloud Dispelling fists would then attack the Roving Dragon’s wrist. This motion was repeated endlessly, faster and faster each time.
The Danyang Cloud Dispelling Fists was a minor move in the Danyang Divine Martial Arts repertoire. It wasn’t a prerequisite for attaining any level of cultivation. However, the Roving Dragon Follows the Moon was an important technique that had to be mastered if one wished to reach the first level of cultivation in the Divine Dragon’s Howl martial arts. After a few days of practice, Chen Ziqi realised that the awkward stances Prince Qi had taught them before were actually the first few moves of the Roving Dragon Follows the Moon.
The Roving Dragon Follows the Moon had a total of thirty-six moves. He’d only learnt three when he first started practicing with Dan Yi, and in order to increase his ability to counter the latter, he pestered Prince Qi daily to teach him the rest. At present, he had learned all thirty-six moves, but he was still getting hit left, right and centre by Dan Yi during their practice sessions.
Even though Dan Yi didn’t use his neili when they practiced, getting hit still hurt!
“Thwack thwack thwack!” Chen Ziqi got hit a few times in succession, and immediately opened his mouth to beg for mercy. “I can’t do it any more – I really can’t! Let me rest a bit,” he pleaded.
Dan Yi stopped. Chen Ziqi’s arms were already throbbing in pain by this time. He collapsed onto the wooden bench that circled the pavilion, panting heavily.
“Tell me honestly. When you picked me as the one to live with, was it because you thought I’d be the most fun to bully?” Chen Ziqi asked in a weak, plaintive voice. The Cloud Palace obviously didn’t like the Imperial Family. Even an idiot could tell that their Shizi had come to the Imperial Palace with an agenda. Maybe it was to give all the princes a good beating…
Dan Yi picked up the teacup on the stone table and drank a mouthful. He went over to Chen Ziqi and squeezed next to him, poking him in his ticklish spots. “You? Fun? You play the fool every day,” he said.
Dan Yi had discovered that Chen Ziqi was the kind of person who used underhanded tactics to gain the upper hand when he knew he couldn’t win fair and square. Examples included poking at his eye and hooking his nostrils. And then, when he still lost, he would make a hue and cry about it.
“Hahaha! Don’t poke me there!” Chen Ziqi grabbed hold of Dan Yi’s hand in a trice. On Chen Ziqi’s part, he had discovered that Dan Yi remembered where his ticklish spots were, and liked to poke at them willy nilly.
Linghe walked over on the wooden bridge leading to the pavilion and stood silently outside it.
Dan Yi sat up and motioned for Linghe to enter. “Speak,” he said.
Linghe looked at Chen Ziqi, who was staring at them with eyes as big as saucers. She saw that her Young Master had no intention of concealing the contents of this discussion from Chen Ziqi. “Last night, the Sixth Prince was locked into the small prayer hall in their residence by Cheng Jieyu. He was not allowed to eat dinner. It seems that it was because the Sixth Prince did not finish learning the gongfa that Cheng Jieyu set him,” she reported.
“What gongfa is he learning?” Dan Yi asked. Without even looking, he caught hold of Chen Ziqi, who was trying to bite his shoulder.
“The Taisu Wuxin Gong of the Suxin Sect,” Linghe answered smoothly.
On hearing this, Chen Ziqi froze in the act of biting the clothes covering Dan Yi’s shoulder. A few days ago, Dan Yi had told Linghe to look into Berry Brown’s matter. He was surprised that he had managed to do it with such detail. How did the Cloud Palace people do it? Did they project their souls out of their bodies at night to roam the palace for information?
“Huh, how absurd,” Dan Yi said, with a disparaging sniff. The Taisu Wuxin Gong was meant for women cultivators. Chen Zimo was a boy, and it was ridiculous to expect him to be able to learn it.
September 2, 2021Beansprout
The Chief couldn’t help blanching on seeing the contents of the letter. Thereafter, however, he recalled how the Chang family had treated Chang Er when she had been living in the farmlands. Perhaps it was not so shocking, after all.
“That ungrateful wench! How dare she treat us this way?!” Chang Er’s sister-in-law stamped her foot in a rage. She had been hoping that Chang Er would send some gold and silver back with the clothes she’d asked for – never in her wildest dreams did she think that Chang Er would not only refuse, but make them lose face on top of it!
“Shut up,” Chang Sheng said, his face red with anger. He took the letter and turned to leave.
The Chief rolled his eyes, got people to prepare his carriage, and left to go to the Jingang Sect.
Chen Ziqi had no idea what happened in Jiuru Town. At this very moment, he was standing in the main hall of Danyang Palace, his arms full of gold and jewels that he wasn’t sure what to do with.
Dan Yi had moved into Danyang Palace with Chen Ziqi when the repairs were completed. The Emperor, Empress and the older princes bestowed many gifts on Dan Yi for the occasion.
The room was full of antique jade objects, precious gems and shining pearls, to the point whereby the floor could barely be seen. Chen Ziqi couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. It was all so shiny and sparkly! Dan Yi had said that he could pick something out for himself, and Chen Ziqi was in a quandary; how was he to decide when everything looked so wonderful?
“There’s no gold?” Chen Ziqi asked, hanging by the waist over a large chest. His butt was sticking up as he poked around in it.
Dan Yi looked up from his book and gave him a patronizing look. He didn’t bother to answer Chen Ziqi’s question.
Linghe took pity on Chen Ziqi. She smiled as she squatted next to Chen Ziqi. “Dianxia, all these things are more valuable than gold. Look at this little horse, for example. It’s made of bloodred jade, and it’s worth a hundred taels of gold,” she said.
Chen Ziqi raised his head to look at the jade horse Linghe was pointing at, then took the horse and clasped it to his chest in one swift motion.
“There’s also this Yangzhi jade ornament that dates back to the previous dynasty. This is worth another hundred taels of gold,” Linghe said, picking out a jade lamp in the shape of a plum blossom tree for Chen Ziqi to look at.
Chen Ziqi immediately reached out to snatch this jade lamp as well.
An incense time later, Chen Ziqi’s arms were full of precious things. He was like a little hamster surrounded by a pile of corn kernels that couldn’t decide which to eat first, picking up one then abandoning it subsequently to pick up another kernel. Chen Ziqi had the jade horse grasped tightly in one hand, a string of luminescent pearls wound around his neck, and he was standing protectively over a set of four table plaques.
Dan Yi didn’t say a word, and just left him to his own devices.
“What’s that?” Chen Ziqi asked, pointing. He had suddenly discovered a huge plate full of pearls.
Linghe and Lingguan got up and brought the item over. It was a windchime made entirely of pearls the size of lotus seeds. There were eight rows of pearls, all strung on thin silver wire.
“This is a gift from the High Priest,” Linghe said, smiling.
The High Priest…
Speaking of the High Priest, Chen Ziqi recalled that he hadn’t seen his little red chick in quite some time, and that he had been intending to ask the High Priest about it.
Chen Ziqi slunk off to the Taizhen Palace when they next had a break from lessons at Chunxi Hall. He’d always run amok on his own when he’d lived in Jiuru Town, so he was very good at finding his way about. He arrived at the High Priest’s residence without much difficulty.
Taizhen Palace was part of the external palace, together with the other palaces that were used for managing government affairs, such as the Taiji Palace and the Imperial Study. It had been designated as the High Priest’s residence since the founding of the dynasty. The whole palace was made of spotless white marble. It looked very out of place in the midst of the other palace buildings, which all had red walls and green glazed porcelain tiles.
Guards in silver armour stood at attention outside Taizhen Palace. When Chen Ziqi approached, the guards immediately crossed their spears, blocking his entrance.
“I want to see the High Priest,” Chen Ziqi said, showing them the jade pendant that indicated he was an Imperial Prince.
“The High Priest does not meet with the princes. Dianxia, please leave,” the guard said. The spears had immediately returned to their original positions once the guards knew he was a prince, but they still did not allow him to enter.
Chen Ziqi saw that someone had gone into the Taizhen Palace to inform the High Priest that he had requested to meet him, and so refused to leave. Before long, one of the High Priest’s veiled assistants came out. “The High Priest invites the Seventh Prince to come in,” the assistant said in a soft voice.
The guards were dumbfounded. They allowed Chen Ziqi to pass this time.
A grove of pagoda trees was planted in the gardens of Taizhen Palace. It looked like there was some kind of pattern as to how they were planted, but Chen Ziqi couldn’t figure out its significance. He followed the assistant up the winding, narrow road, and finally exited the grove of pagoda trees after about a quarter of an hour.
“Dianxia, this way, please,” the assistant stopped at the entrance of the main hall, gesturing for Chen Ziqi to enter on his own.
The main hall of Taizhen Palace was a high-ceilinged hall paved with polished black marble slabs. When Chen Ziqi stepped over the threshold, he immediately felt a gush of cool air on his face.
The interior of the Taizhen Palace looked to be very minimalistic. There was very little furniture, just a few small futons that looked like they had been randomly tossed onto the ground. The High Priest sat behind a short table, drawing something with a fine-tipped brush dipped in red cinnabar ink.
The threshold was about a foot tall, and Chen Ziqi’s short little legs couldn’t step across it directly. He had to sit on it, swing his legs over, then hop down on the other side. The High Priest heard the sound he made when he landed and looked up. He couldn’t help smiling in amusement when he saw the awkward way Chen Ziqi had entered the hall.
“Dianxia, you’re finally here,” the High Priest said, raising a hand. One of the futons glided over, unassisted, and came to rest next to the High Priest’s table. “Have a seat.”
Telekinesis! Chen Ziqi’s eyes were as big as saucers. Da Chen had boasted about seeing this when he was in Jiuru Town. That had been the only time he had heard about such gongfu, and this was the first time he had ever seen it personally.
He sat down obediently on a futon. He really wanted to look around curiously, but he didn’t dare to do so in the presence of the solemn High Priest. His hands grasped the edge of the short table as he peered at what the High Priest was doing.
On a snow white piece of rice paper about three feet long, the High Priest was painting an incredibly complex pattern of clouds in cinnabar ink. His brush did not leave the paper even once; it was all painted in one long brush stroke.
“Is this some kind of spell?” Chen Ziqi asked softly.
The High Priest finished up and put the thin brush into a green jade brush washer. The red cinnabar ink immediately diffused out of the brush and into the water, looking like wriggling koi fish in a pond.
“Was Dianxia’s purpose in coming here to ask me about spells?” the High Priest asked, smiling at him in amusement.
“No,” Chen Ziqi said, scratching his head. He was here for something much more important. “You know that little red chicken in Zhanghua Temple? That’s the Protector-God of our dynasty, isn’t it?”
When the High Priest heard Chen Ziqi use the word “chicken”, the corners of his mouth twitched involuntarily. “It is what Dianxia thinks it is,” he said cryptically.
What kind of answer was that? Chen Ziqi frowned. “Where has it gone?” he asked.
It had already been quite some time since he last saw that divine chicken. Surely it hadn’t been caught and made into chicken soup by one of the palace staff?
“He’s right by your side,” the High Priest said. He opened a small sandalwood box sitting on the short-legged table and took out a tiny scroll that was only about the size of his palm. He extended this to Chen Ziqi. “When you need him, he will appear,” he said.
Chen Ziqi accepted the scroll and opened it. It was an elaborate gongbi painting* depicting that little red divine chicken standing with its wings flared on a rock, looking very dignified.
*T/N: This is a realist painting technique. See the wiki page for more details.
“Dianxia, if you have any other questions, you can always look for me in Taizhen Palace,” the High Priest said. He pushed a white jade pendant into Chen Ziqi’s hands. “There’s only one thing that I must ask Dianxia to keep in mind. Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone that the little red bird ate your cherry.”
Chen Ziqi gripped the small jade pendant in his hand, in a bit of a daze as he walked back to his residence. The High Priest’s words resonated in his mind, and a chilly feeling pulsed repeatedly from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
“Seventeen years ago, the prince whose cherry was eaten was murdered after he left Zhanghua Temple…”
Murdered…
After Chen Ziqi left, a man slipped out from behind the screen in Taizhen Palace. He wore blue gauze robes on his slender body, had a handsome face, and held a jade-boned fan in one hand. Who could it be but Lan Shanyu?
“Why didn’t you want me to meet him?” Lan Shanyu asked, nuzzling against the High Priest affectionately.
“It’s not the right time,” the High Priest said. He rolled up the cinnabar ink painting in front of him, and gave it to Lan Shanyu. “A three-foot train would be good.”
“This pattern is very nicely done. Qinghan, you’re getting better at this,” Lan Shanyu said, addressing the High Priest by his courtesy name. He grinned cheekily at the High Priest as he put the painting into his sleeves.
“What did you call me?” the High Priest asked, giving him a cold stare.
“Ah! It hurts, it hurts! I’m sorry! Ge, I’m sorry!”
Back at Danyang Palace, Chen Ziqi was squatting in the grass in a melancholy mood. “Divine Chicken, come here quickly, I need you right now,” he said.
“What are you doing?” Dan Yi asked. His shadow fell over Chen Ziqi’s back as he walked over.
Chen Ziqi leapt three feet into the air in shock. “How is it that your feet don’t make any sound?!” he exclaimed. He rolled his eyes inwardly. Dan Yi wasn’t even the divine chicken, why did he bother coming out right at this time?
Dan Yi didn’t reply to this comment. He tugged Chen Ziqi over to the water pavilion in the middle of the pond. “It’s time to practice your martial arts,” he said.
“Ah…” Chen Ziqi said, a pained expression on his face. These few days, Dan Yi had dragged him to practice like clockwork, making him repeat countering his Cloud Dispelling Fists with the Roving Dragon Follows the Moon. He had only just started learning the technique and wasn’t Dan Yi’s match at all, so he took a sound beating every day.
They got into position, and started the practice.
When they first started, Dan Yi did the moves very slowly, and Chen Ziqi could still keep up. When Dan Yi struck out with his left arm, Chen Ziqi would use his right arm to block, the Roving Dragon winding up gracefully to catch hold of Dan Yi’s small arm. The Cloud Dispelling fists would then attack the Roving Dragon’s wrist. This motion was repeated endlessly, faster and faster each time.
The Danyang Cloud Dispelling Fists was a minor move in the Danyang Divine Martial Arts repertoire. It wasn’t a prerequisite for attaining any level of cultivation. However, the Roving Dragon Follows the Moon was an important technique that had to be mastered if one wished to reach the first level of cultivation in the Divine Dragon’s Howl martial arts. After a few days of practice, Chen Ziqi realised that the awkward stances Prince Qi had taught them before were actually the first few moves of the Roving Dragon Follows the Moon.
The Roving Dragon Follows the Moon had a total of thirty-six moves. He’d only learnt three when he first started practicing with Dan Yi, and in order to increase his ability to counter the latter, he pestered Prince Qi daily to teach him the rest. At present, he had learned all thirty-six moves, but he was still getting hit left, right and centre by Dan Yi during their practice sessions.
Even though Dan Yi didn’t use his neili when they practiced, getting hit still hurt!
“Thwack thwack thwack!” Chen Ziqi got hit a few times in succession, and immediately opened his mouth to beg for mercy. “I can’t do it any more – I really can’t! Let me rest a bit,” he pleaded.
Dan Yi stopped. Chen Ziqi’s arms were already throbbing in pain by this time. He collapsed onto the wooden bench that circled the pavilion, panting heavily.
“Tell me honestly. When you picked me as the one to live with, was it because you thought I’d be the most fun to bully?” Chen Ziqi asked in a weak, plaintive voice. The Cloud Palace obviously didn’t like the Imperial Family. Even an idiot could tell that their Shizi had come to the Imperial Palace with an agenda. Maybe it was to give all the princes a good beating…
Dan Yi picked up the teacup on the stone table and drank a mouthful. He went over to Chen Ziqi and squeezed next to him, poking him in his ticklish spots. “You? Fun? You play the fool every day,” he said.
Dan Yi had discovered that Chen Ziqi was the kind of person who used underhanded tactics to gain the upper hand when he knew he couldn’t win fair and square. Examples included poking at his eye and hooking his nostrils. And then, when he still lost, he would make a hue and cry about it.
“Hahaha! Don’t poke me there!” Chen Ziqi grabbed hold of Dan Yi’s hand in a trice. On Chen Ziqi’s part, he had discovered that Dan Yi remembered where his ticklish spots were, and liked to poke at them willy nilly.
Linghe walked over on the wooden bridge leading to the pavilion and stood silently outside it.
Dan Yi sat up and motioned for Linghe to enter. “Speak,” he said.
Linghe looked at Chen Ziqi, who was staring at them with eyes as big as saucers. She saw that her Young Master had no intention of concealing the contents of this discussion from Chen Ziqi. “Last night, the Sixth Prince was locked into the small prayer hall in their residence by Cheng Jieyu. He was not allowed to eat dinner. It seems that it was because the Sixth Prince did not finish learning the gongfa that Cheng Jieyu set him,” she reported.
“What gongfa is he learning?” Dan Yi asked. Without even looking, he caught hold of Chen Ziqi, who was trying to bite his shoulder.
“The Taisu Wuxin Gong of the Suxin Sect,” Linghe answered smoothly.
On hearing this, Chen Ziqi froze in the act of biting the clothes covering Dan Yi’s shoulder. A few days ago, Dan Yi had told Linghe to look into Berry Brown’s matter. He was surprised that he had managed to do it with such detail. How did the Cloud Palace people do it? Did they project their souls out of their bodies at night to roam the palace for information?
“Huh, how absurd,” Dan Yi said, with a disparaging sniff. The Taisu Wuxin Gong was meant for women cultivators. Chen Zimo was a boy, and it was ridiculous to expect him to be able to learn it.
