"Junior Brother, you're leaving already?" Xunzi hadn't expected Li Haime to depart so soon.
"I've been away too long, and Xiaomeng's in seclusion besides. Taiyi Mountain needs someone to watch over it," Li Haime replied earnestly. Truth be told, it was more that solitude chafed at him—especially with Xue Nu around, a temptation he could admire but not touch. One slip, one surge of hot blood, and Xiaomeng would flay him alive upon his return.
"Fair enough, then. I won't see you off." Xunzi nodded.
After bidding Xunzi farewell, Li Haime stopped by to inform Fu Nian. The sect leader tried to persuade him to stay several times before finally relenting.
"Martial Nephew Yan Lu, I plan to head back to Taiyi Mountain in the next couple of days," Li Haime said upon meeting Yan Lu. He still felt awkward addressing Yan Lu and Fu Nian as nephews—Confucians prized ritual above all, and he'd have preferred to keep a low profile. But seniority didn't bend for wishes.
"So soon?" Yan Lu blinked in surprise, a flicker of reluctance crossing his face.
"I've been gone too long. If I don't return soon, the Human Sect might forget they even have a sect leader." Li Haime chuckled.
"Then it's time you did," Yan Lu agreed with a nod. Then, hesitantly: "And... how are things between you and Miss Xue Nu?"
"Xue Nu and me?" Li Haime paused, caught off guard. What kind of 'things'? We're squeaky clean—how else could it be?
"You really don't know she likes you?" Yan Lu stared, incredulous. Even Miss Xue Nu's out of luck? Alone together for so long, and not a single advance? All those openings I created, wasted.
"No idea. Impossible, right?" Li Haime had never even considered it. Xiaomeng was still on the menu—coveting side dishes now would be sheer gluttony.
Yan Lu fixed him with a serious look, then recounted the whole misunderstanding from the start.
"So... she turned you down?" Li Haime eyed Yan Lu. Xue Nu had rejected him? Even if by mishap?
"Don't see me off!" Yan Lu snapped, lapsing into silence. Why does everyone fixate on my rejection? (Д`)彡┻━┻
Li Haime departed the Little Sage Village, though Fu Nian and Yan Lu still insisted on escorting him partway.
"Did Yan Lu give you a gift?" Back at Wangyuan Garden, Li Haime asked Xue Nu, who was absorbed in a game of go against herself. She probably still had no clue about the massive blunder she'd caused. He had to admire her ingenuity, though—inventing a solo match between left and right hands, then dragging the entire Confucian school into the pit.
"Did Mr. Yan Lu tell you?" Xue Nu's cheeks flushed. Is he still not giving up? Asking Master to play matchmaker? But Master, don't you know? I'm Daoist in life, Daoist in death—a soul of the Dao.
"Go fetch that scroll and open it—you'll see." Li Haime sighed in exasperation.
"I... lost it. Think I tossed it in the kitchen for kindling." Xue Nu mumbled, embarrassed.
Li Haime froze. Your family's that loaded? How'd I miss that the Daoists are sitting on such mines? A priceless ancient qin score like Fisherman and Woodcutter's Dialogue, and you burn it for fuel? He bolted to the kitchen, where a bamboo scroll lay bundled with a flower atop it. No wonder the mix-up—but wait, gifts usually came tied with red cords and blossoms for luck.
"Master, this is...?" Xue Nu hovered at the woodshed door, watching as he salvaged the scroll, dusting it off with care.
"Fisherman and Woodcutter's Dialogue—a Confucian classic qin score, one of their core pieces. It suits Daoist cultivation too. The Confucians sent it as a token for you, not from Yan Lu." Li Haime grumbled. Burn it for real, and you'd have no tears left to shed. Beseeching the Confucians for a replacement? Mortifying.
"Not from Mr. Yan Lu?" Xue Nu pieced it together in a flash, her face crimson to the roots of her hair.
"I'm curious too—what were you thinking? A man like Yan Lu—prime, handsome, refined aura, renowned, second-in-command of the Confucians, wealthy. Power, fame, fortune—he's got it all. Can't fathom a reason to refuse. Unless... send two my way."
"I was thinking, I'm yours in life, yours in death—ah, pfft! No: Daoist in life, Daoist soul in death. Wait, wrong: yours in life, Daoist soul in death. No, I..." Xue Nu stammered, on the verge of tears, fumbling worse with every frantic correction.
"Enough, enough—I get it." Li Haime spared her further teasing.
"Alright, pack our things. Time to head back to Taiyi Mountain," he said.
"So soon?" Xue Nu blurted, a twinge of disappointment slipping through despite herself.
"Five or six years away—it's plenty. Xiaomeng's been back nearly half a year." He tapped her forehead lightly.
They'd left in the third year of King Zhaoxiang's reign. Now it was winter of the eighth. Time had slipped by in a blur. Xiaomeng had returned that past spring; now winter waned. No catching the New Year at Taiyi Mountain. No high-speed rails or trains in this era—just two legs, and who knew how long that trek would take? Riding hard? Self-torture. The journey from Qin to Yan had eaten three years back then. Qi to Qin straight-shot? One or two months at best—and that assumed a straight line. Fat chance.
"Through Wei and Han, then? Or Chu?" Xue Nu asked. Fastest route: Wei-Han-Chu into Qin and Taiyi. Via Chu alone meant a detour loop.
"Wei and Han it is—stop by Han on the way." Li Haime decided. With his Dao established, no more slacking as a salted fish. Not that he'd dive in personally—that wasn't the Daoist way. Better to sow seeds and let them sprout on their own.
"Master Xunzi said those nine apricots are fruits of the Great Dao—one can catapult someone to first-rate expert in an instant. And that ephemeral flower aids breakthroughs to Unity of Heaven and Man, wards off all poisons if carried, even revives the dying." Xue Nu pointed to the nine apricots on the thunder-scarred tree that had miraculously revived. And in the garden, the crystalline white ephemeral flower bloomed eternal—from root to petal, a flawless jade carving.
"I'll dig it up and pot it—you pick the apricots." Li Haime ducked inside for a flowerpot and spade, transplanting the Dao ephemeral flower with exquisite care, roots intact. He even salvaged a dozen seeds from the withered blooms on the ground. Even these were extraordinary: plump, lustrous with faint glow, carrying a subtle fragrance.
What a spendthrift. As sword attendant, she couldn't even gather treasures? Li Haime stewed in resentment. Why does my sword maid feel so... off? I wield the sword, do the chores—what's she for? Warming the bed? Then what's Xiaomeng supposed to do?
"Master, too high—I can't reach." Beneath the apricot tree, Xue Nu gazed up with wide, innocent eyes like autumn pools, the nine golden orbs—each etched with faint, arcane Dao script—taunting her from above.
What do I even keep you for? Li Haime grumbled inwardly. First-rate jianghu expert, and you can't snag a few apricots? What'd I teach you Xiaoyao You for? Near-peerless lightness skill in the world, my foot.
"Out of the way!" With the ephemeral flower potted, Li Haime strode over, toed the earth, and soared lightly, plucking each apricot in turn.
"Fetch a jade box." He glanced at Xue Nu, rooted in呆滞 beside him.
It dawned on him: he was hopeless at teaching. Everyone he raised turned useless. Xiaomeng: lofty Celestial Sect leader, yet she framed banditry as "borrowing"—bold as brass. Now Xue Nu: first-rate expert who couldn't climb a tree. Truly, I, Wuchenzi, spoil all I rear.
"Never mind—I'll get it." No faith she'd pick the right kind. Back inside, he grabbed a slender jade case—Yan Lu's foresight, for precious herbs.
He nestled the nine radiant, duck-egg-sized heaven-granted apricots—each stamped with esoteric Dao script—into the box and sealed it. Only then did Xue Nu shuffle in, cradling the potted ephemeral flower. Purple robes against jade bloom—stunning to behold, utterly useless otherwise.
"Clothes, sundries, seasonings, flint—all packed?" Li Haime asked. But her guileless doe eyes said no. With Xiaomeng around before, he'd handled it all—Xue Nu had coasted, habits formed. Korea's premier dancer, fingers untouched by toil: too cruel to expect it of her.
They fussed till dusk, and with the haul, today was shot—no leaving now.
"Master... am I useless?" Xue Nu ventured sheepishly. All afternoon, she'd trailed him like a puppy, clutching the flower pot in circles.
At least you know your limits—that's something.
"No such thing. Men's work, this." Li Haime kept his face sunny, thoughts a swirling void.
"I think so too." She beamed.
Pity no watches to hawk—last year, I'd have bought one just to retort.You agree? Don't you know you're the sword attendant? Feels like I'm the maid here.
"I'll procure a cart. One more night here—dawn departure." Li Haime stepped out. Too much to haul; a carriage was wiser—ideally one for roadside rests, easing the grind back to Qin.
A sturdy yellow nag for pulling—no thoroughbreds for carts, and no official status for a team. Vermilion frame, roomy enough for two seated, but sprawling? Only with Xiaomeng's slight frame. Under a gold tael, plus a brocade quilt. Oversized waterskin, iron pot slung below, staples from an inn—seasonings too, scarce elsewhere. Bundled eats, then he drove back to Wangyuan.
"Eat up—rest well. Road calls at first light." Li Haime set the takeout on the stone table. A simple meal, a tidy garden—Yan Lu's grounds deserved care—then separate beds.
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