What Kind of Master Are You, Anyway!
Shu Fu knew very little about Xie Fangnian.
At first, she had only heard of him through rumors circulating in the martial world. He was said to have difficulty walking, to be skilled in arcane arts, and to enjoy Ling Shanhai’s deep trust. Later, she met him once at the Flower Festival, and from then on, they got along as if they had known each other forever…
“Getting along as if they had known each other forever” meant that the moment she saw him, she detected a familiar and intimate flavor of sarcasm.
To put it another way, if everyone in this world were characters in a book, then Xie Fangnian and Jiang Xuesheng had, to some extent, “overlapping character settings.”
Although this world had long since said goodbye to the original novel and begun racing freely along an entirely new trajectory, perhaps in the eyes of twenty-first-century readers, it had merely become a new book titled Raising Chickens in an Angsty Romance Novel.
Still, after seeing him today, Shu Fu’s impression of Xie Fangnian had changed considerably.
For one thing, he had been shocked by the persona Jiang Xuesheng was playing—that of an oily middle-aged man flirting with his eighteen-year-old female disciple. This showed that Xie Fangnian still possessed a little common sense and self-respect—in short, he had some shame. Unlike Jiang Xuesheng, who was shamelessly flirtatious and took pride in it, he was practically the undisputed champion among dogs: unique in all the world, otherwise known as King Two-Dog.
For another… his frail and sickly persona seemed to be genuine.
In his shock, Xie Fangnian had overturned his wheelchair and achieved the medical miracle of “a disabled man leaping three feet into the air,” but the miracle was fleeting.
“Master Tanhua, you… cough, cough!”
He had barely managed to spit out a normal person’s reproach at Jiang Xuesheng before he covered his mouth and began coughing violently. He coughed as though the sky and earth were turning upside down, his waist bending like a thin reed, as if it might snap at any moment.
“Elder Xie, are you—are you all right?”
Shu Fu was startled by his deathly appearance. Feeling that she and Jiang Xuesheng were one in spirit and ought to share at least some of the responsibility, she stepped forward and reached out to support him.
But before her hand could even rise past her waist, Jiang Xuesheng had already swept past her with a whoosh. With a flick of his sleeve, he righted the wheelchair, then whipped up a demonic gust that lifted Xie Fangnian’s unsteady body into the air. He spun him around once, gave him a light toss, and—without seeming to put much thought into it—dropped him back into the wheelchair.
Shu Fu: “…”
Was he… trying not to let her help Xie Fangnian?
Was that really necessary? Was he seriously this jealous?
Perhaps Jiang Xuesheng’s movements had been too rough. Xie Fangnian failed to sit securely and swayed back and forth like a roly-poly twice in a row. His face grew even paler, and he looked as though he had nearly been jostled into vomiting.
“You…”
“Elder Huayue, hear me out.”
Jiang Xuesheng hurriedly raised a hand, preventing the misunderstanding from growing any worse. “This isn’t what you think. Fuer and I aren’t in the kind of relationship you imagine, either.”
Xie Fangnian gave him the look one reserved for garbage and said coldly, “What exactly does Master Tanhua think I imagined?”
Jiang Xuesheng thought for a moment, then chose his words carefully. “Elder Huayue thinks I took advantage of Fuer’s youth and naivety, deceived her with honeyed words, and satisfied some unspeakable desire of my own?”
Xie Fangnian raised his eyelids. “Is that not the case? I may be crippled, but I’m not blind. I can tell how old Master Tanhua is, and how old this young girl is.”
“Naturally, it isn’t.”
Jiang Xuesheng denied it with a perfectly straight face. “Fuer and I are mutually in love. Things simply followed their natural course. I certainly didn’t deceive her on purpose. Besides, she made the first move.”
Shu Fu: “Huh? Did I?”
Xie Fangnian: “…”
The look one gave hazardous waste.jpg
He scrutinized Jiang Xuesheng with undisguised contempt for a while. Apparently deciding that the man was beyond saving and no longer worth insulting, he flipped his hand and produced a glass cup. Bringing it to his lips, he took a small sip to calm his disordered breathing.
The cup was exquisitely clear, suffused with spiritual light, and engraved with talismans on its surface. At a glance, it was clearly a powerful spiritual artifact.
However, the liquid naturally swirling inside seemed to carry a faint ginger-yellow tint, with several spindle-shaped red berries bobbing up and down…
Shu Fu: Could this be the legendary… “Once you hit middle age, you have no choice but to steep goji berries in your thermos”?
“…”
Xie Fangnian said nothing. He silently drank the mysterious liquid that appeared to be goji-berry tea. Some color returned to his pale, greenish face, but his expression remained dark. Without so much as a glance at Jiang Xuesheng, he asked Shu Fu, “Has everything concerning the illusion been dealt with?”
“Yes, it’s all been resolved. This time, we have you to thank, Elder Huayue.”
Shu Fu answered him in a proper, measured tone.
For some reason, whenever she saw Xie Fangnian, she remembered how he had nitpicked her relentlessly, complaining that her qin playing was unbearable and that she was squandering a precious instrument. Listening to her once had left him short of breath and tight in the chest; listening twice had given rise to inner demons.
At the time, Shu Fu had been somewhat unconvinced. She had thought, You don’t understand me at all! This was all something Poyue wanted!
But after witnessing the illusion, every time she recalled the Phoenix Lord’s brilliant smile—the way he had grinned like a three-and-a-half-year-old child when he succeeded in forging the artifact—her heart ached with remorse, and a powerful sense of guilt welled up inside her.
“Elder Huayue, there’s something I wanted to say…”
In an effort to ease some of her guilt, Shu Fu hesitated before saying to Xie Fangnian, “I know I let down the Poyue qin, as well as the kindness of the artifact maker. From now on, I’ll study music properly and make up for my shortcomings through hard work. At the very least, I’ll learn to play one or two songs that are actually pleasant to listen to. Please don’t take what happened before to heart.”
“…”
Hearing this, Xie Fangnian looked up at her in surprise. One hand rested over his chest, and his wide sleeve slipped down, revealing a delicate string of tiny jasmine blossoms around his slender wrist.
…Jasmine?
[Heart-of-Dan Jasmine blooms only once every three years, and each bloom lasts just three days. It is an excellent medicinal ingredient.]
[Young Lord Honghu, don’t tell me you made a bracelet out of it simply because it was “pretty”?]
Perhaps because she was thinking of the Phoenix Lord, Shu Fu’s heart suddenly gave a little jump. Feng Yuandu’s exasperated voice seemed to echo in her ear.
“Elder Huayue, I have a question.”
She leaned forward with some urgency and pressed, “That string of jasmine blossoms on your wrist—where did you get it…?”
“What about it?”
Xie Fangnian seemed puzzled. He generously extended his slender wrist and held the shabby, inconspicuous bracelet out for her to see.
“During the Flower Festival, people sell these flower bracelets all over the streets of Yao and Wei. Haven’t you seen them? I liked the look of them, so I bought several strings. If you like it, take it.”
With that, he casually brushed his hand across his lap. Sure enough, an entire row of brightly colored flower bracelets appeared there: mountain cherries, green-calyx plums, pendulous crabapples, golden-flecked peaches… Flowers of every variety were represented, red and white, as though an enchanting spring landscape had been spread out before her eyes.
Shu Fu paused, then withdrew her hand in disappointment. She was just about to explain that she had misunderstood when Jiang Xuesheng raised a hand and blocked her.
“There’s no need. If Fuer wants something, there isn’t a flower in this world she can’t pick. There’s no need to trouble Elder Huayue.”
Shu Fu: “…”
Bro, that domineering-president line really doesn’t suit you. You can be a little more confident. There’s no need to rush to flesh out your character and distance yourself from the new arrival.
Xie Fangnian had only mentioned it in passing. Seeing that Shu Fu was uninterested, he flicked his sleeve again, tucked the string of flowers away, and turned to her with a cool smile. “What’s this? Have you suddenly discovered your conscience and realized how much your music hurts people?”
Shu Fu was just about to nod when he continued, “Still, with your talent, it makes no difference whether you practice or not, so there’s no need to waste your effort. If you were born shortchanged, how easy could it be to overcome that? Look at me. No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to leap and scamper about like the rest of you.”
Shu Fu: “…”
Insulting me was one thing, but he even insulted himself. I have to respect that level of ruthlessness.
“However…”
At this point, Xie Fangnian suddenly changed course, his tone turning gentler. “Your zither playing may be unbearable, but your swordsmanship is beautiful. Even if someone hears your music and develops murderous intent, one look at your swordsmanship and they’ll find themselves unable to bring themselves to kill you.”
Shu Fu rubbed her chilly neck and gave a dry laugh. “Hahaha, is that so? Thank you.”
“All right. Now that matters here have been settled, I should return to Lingxiao City and report back.”
Xie Fangnian stopped talking. With a light press of the armrest, his wheelchair abruptly rose into the air, carrying him leisurely toward the sky.
“This time, I lost the First Young Master’s chicken… head, and quite a few men besides. I’ll inevitably be punished before Sect Master Ling. I’ll take responsibility for this matter on behalf of Yaoguang Peak. Until we meet again, remember that you owe me this favor.”
…Well, I’ll be damned. Everyone else traveled by flying sword, but he flew by wheelchair—and it even looked more comfortable than a sword.
“Elder Xie. Are you truly going back to Lingxiao City?”
Jiang Xuesheng suddenly looked up and called out to him. His expression was stern, and there was a rare hint of murderous intent between his brows. “The Yuan-chu clan did not stray onto the wrong path because of Ling Fengqing alone. Lingxiao City is still no place for you.”
“Do you know that all these years, the Ling family has been searching everywhere for people to use as test subjects because Ling Shanhai ordered them to refine an immortal elixir capable of ‘purifying bloodlines’?”
“I know, of course.”
Xie Fangnian lowered his eyes, his gaze dark and unreadable. “Sect Master Ling is solely focused on reviving the Yuan-chu clan and has long since stopped caring about the means. I have my own plans. Master Tanhua, rather than worrying about me, you should focus on cultivating your disciple. Though she has absolutely no talent for music, she is a first-rate sword cultivator in the making, with limitless potential. If you fail to teach her properly, or if you use… use matters of romance to distract her, you’ll most likely be struck by lightning.”
“So that’s what this is about. Elder Xie needn’t worry.”
Jiang Xuesheng responded with a carefree smile, his gaze open and his bearing lofty and immortal, every inch the image of a transcendent sage.
“How could an excellent master fail to teach and guide his disciple properly merely because he has feelings for her?”
“If he does fail, then it must be because he was incompetent to begin with and can only use ‘having no feelings’ to conceal his incompetence.”
—The only problem was that this “immortal” clearly couldn’t say anything that wasn’t provocative.
…
By the time the two returned to Wei City, dusk had deepened into night. A slender crescent moon was slowly rising above the treetops, while faint stars glittered in the distance.
Seeing the city in complete disarray, Jiang Xuesheng took Shu Fu to the city lord’s residence. They would first meet up with Liu Ruyi and the others, rest at the residence for the night, and discuss how to deal with the aftermath the following day.
What surprised Shu Fu was that in front of everyone from Yaoguang Peak, Jiang Xuesheng behaved as usual. He showed not the slightest sign of anything unusual, much less the high-profile gloating she had imagined—repeatedly jumping around in front of the single old dragon and shouting, “I’m no longer single! Aren’t you jealous? Aren’t you jealous? Aren’t you jealous?”
While Shu Fu was still baffled, Jiang Xuesheng had already considerately escorted her to the guest room. He wished her good night at the door, then turned to leave.
“…”
Unaccustomed to his sudden restraint, Shu Fu couldn’t help calling after him. “Master, you’re… just leaving it at that?”
“For now, yes. What, are you dissatisfied?”
Jiang Xuesheng smiled and raised a hand, lightly poking her forehead with his fingertip. “A moment ago, you were the one who said that there was still ‘something missing’ between us, and asked me to ‘show you a little more respect.’ I’m not some demon lord. Since you asked, of course I’ll take your opinion into consideration.”
“Fuer, you can rest assured. Even if an excellent master is merely going through the motions of seeing his disciple graduate, he wouldn’t be so careless. He should at least prepare a proper graduation gift.”
“However…”
At this point, he lowered his brows and fell into thoughtful silence. “‘Master’ sounds rather different now that I hear you say it. I’m starting to feel a little reluctant to give it up. Fuer, since you haven’t graduated yet, why don’t you call me that a few more times while you still can?”
Shu Fu: “…”
In the cultivation world, people generally regarded the master-disciple relationship as taboo. And precisely because it was taboo, literature had spun it into an indescribable kind of allure, one that left its admirers hopelessly addicted.
But Jiang Xuesheng was truly the first master she had ever seen who so openly declared, “I intend to treat the master-disciple relationship as a source of erotic pleasure.”
—Seriously, what kind of master are you supposed to be?
