Yuan Ting: The National Teacher fed my master with bewitching soup.
Mo Li slept very deeply.
His waist and entire back were warm and cozy.
The wind, blowing through the slightly opened window crack, lightly brushed against his face. A strand of hair slipped down, hanging in front of his eyelid, tickling him.
Mo Li instinctively wanted to reach out and brush it away, but he couldn’t open his eyes, as if he had returned to Qimao Mountain. The scorching summer sun shone into the pool, and he gradually stopped swimming, half-asleep, until the sun set and the warmth in the water slowly faded, taking away that cozy feeling.
Mo Li finally moved, and at that moment, a hand gently reached out from behind and brushed away the strand of hair that disturbed his pleasant dream.
There was a faint sound of weeping in the distance.
Behind the pharmacy of Cihui Hall, someone was suppressing a cough, and another person, suffering from illness, tossed and turned on their bed, unable to sleep.
There was a faint sound from the roof tiles, barely audible.
A stray cat leaped over the courtyard wall onto the roof.
“…”
Meng Qi looked at the roof and then at the window crack.
It shouldn’t be able to get in.
Suddenly, something fell in front of the window, and a pair of round, glowing eyes appeared in the crack.
“Bang! Meow!”
The first sound was the window support rod falling, and the second came from the startled cat.
Mo Li woke up with a start, instinctively turning over and getting up.
The window was closed before he could see what happened, and Meng Qi pushed him back into bed.
——It’s just a cat.
Meng Qi communicated with Doctor Mo using his eyes.
The two of them silently stared at each other in the dark, their ears pricked, listening to the sounds outside.
The cat fell from the window and scurried away.
Mo Li relaxed his tense shoulders and back. Meng Qi, still holding him, sighed in relief and said, “It’s good it didn’t come inside; otherwise, how could we calm the doctor down?”
Mo Li hesitated to speak.
The sound of the bamboo pole falling was rather loud at night. The young servant guarding Cihui Hall rubbed his eyes, holding a lantern as he came out to check. Seeing the fallen pole in the courtyard and remembering the earlier meow, he quickly understood what had happened. The servant grumbled a few complaints and went back inside.
“You’re still not asleep?” Mo Li asked softly.
Meng Qi immediately closed his eyes, though he was really listening for any noise from Shopkeeper Bao’s place.
The rice shop was quiet, which likely meant that the master and apprentice wouldn’t fight after all.
If it had been anyone else, Meng Qi would have already gone to eavesdrop. But Bao Guanyong was an old subordinate from many years ago, and when he decided to lay things out with his apprentice, Meng Qi knew he wouldn’t want others overhearing, so he stayed with Mo Li instead.
“The luggage is mostly ready; we can leave anytime.”
They had stayed in this small town mainly to purchase some supplies.
The money came from Shopkeeper Bao, and Mo Li also received a fine set of silver needles from Cihui Hall. They had bought some common medicinal herbs, and clothes and fire starters were also prepared.
“If nothing unexpected happens, we’ll set off tomorrow evening and travel overnight to Luling County. If you don’t sleep now, I’ll press your acupoints.”
Faced with the doctor’s threat, Meng Qi didn’t move, pretending to sleep with his eyes closed.
He heard Mo Li lie back down beside him, their breathing close at hand, and then his hand itched slightly, wanting to reach out.
“Maybe there’s also a stray cat,” Meng Qi said righteously.
This was to protect what belonged to him—his fish.
Mo Li: “…”
Fine, let him hold me. Maybe it’s because the sand rat is scared.
After all, cats are more likely to catch mice than fish.
He placed his palm on the back of Meng Qi’s hand, which was wrapped around his waist and abdomen, pressing down slightly to stop him from moving any further.
The sand rat calmed down.
“Go to sleep!”
After tonight, who knows when they’ll be able to sleep peacefully in a bed again.
Mo Li planned to wait until Meng Qi fell asleep, keeping an eye on the sand rat.
Meng Qi had no intention of sleeping, wanting to watch Mo Li sleep just as he did before.
So the two of them lay silently, both determined to wait for the other to fall asleep first.
Mo Li was the first to yawn, his eyelids drooping slightly.
Before Meng Qi could celebrate, he uncontrollably followed suit and opened his mouth.
“…”
No, I’m not that sleepy! Meng Qi tried hard to keep his eyes open. He heard the breathing of the person beside him become long and steady, and the right hand resting on the back of his hand slowly relaxed. He could see Mo Li’s ear and part of his face as he turned his head slightly.
To avoid waking Mo Li, Meng Qi slowly moved closer.
Familiar warmth, familiar breathing—Mo Li shifted his head, resting it in the crook of Meng Qi’s shoulder.
——He had caught his fish, and the National Teacher was proud.
Sleep followed soon after as if he hadn’t embraced a person but rather a strong sleeping potion.
Meng Qi had no idea how he fell asleep. When he was awakened by the sounds of street vendors, the rolling of cartwheels, and the laughter of workers at the rice shop outside, the sun was already high, and his beloved was still peacefully asleep in his arms.
“Fragrant soy milk!”
“Selling steamed buns!”
Meng Qi listened carefully to the noises outside but didn’t hear a single vendor selling sweet rice cakes.
Well, sugar isn’t cheap; you’d have to buy that from a shop or restaurant.
There should at least be some yellow rice cakes, or maybe sweet rice wine if nothing else?
“Thud.”
The sound of a dart embedding itself into the wooden frame echoed, and with a flick of Meng Qi’s wrist, he pulled down the bed’s canopy, tossing it into the air.
Five or six large holes were torn in the window paper, and all the hidden weapons were caught in the canopy.
“Stop!”
Shopkeeper Bao’s furious shout came from outside the window, and two figures leaped into the room one after the other.
It was none other than Bao Guanyong and his apprentice, Yuan Ting.
His voice abruptly stopped, and both master and apprentice stood there, dumbfounded, staring at Meng Qi and Mo Li who had just climbed out of bed.
They were in the same bed!
And they were half-dressed, still embracing each other!
“Maybe it was also a stray cat,” Meng Qi said righteously as he tidied Mo Li’s collar without even turning his head as if he wasn’t the one who had sneakily undressed the man the night before.
Mo Li: “…”
The sound of hurried footsteps came from downstairs as the apprentice from the pharmacy rushed up, calling out in concern.
“Doctor Mo, are you alright?”
“It seemed like someone climbed through the window just now?”
Mo Li, seeing that Yuan Ting came with ill intent, put on his outer robe and stopped them. “It’s fine. Don’t come up.”
Cihui Hall had been open for decades and often dealt with people from the martial world. Seeing such a situation so early in the morning, they knew it was likely someone from the jianghu causing trouble. Since Mo Li didn’t want the apprentice to come upstairs, the young man, though anxious, quickly called over a servant to guard the stairs and ran off to fetch the head doctor of Cihui Hall.
“Rushing in so recklessly, aren’t you worried about the neighbors noticing and revealing your identity?” Meng Qi stretched lazily.
Bao Guanyong’s eyes were nearly popping out of his head.
The General Meng he remembered was wise, diligent, cautious, and meticulous. Who was this person half-reclining on the bed now?
What was with that contented expression?
And—wait…
“General Meng, your face…”
Meng Qi looked at Bao Guanyong’s horrified face in confusion and raised his hand to touch his own face.
Uh-oh, when did it change back? In his sleep?
He looked up again, and now he was the dumbfounded one—Mo Li looked like he was in his sixties.
No wonder Yuan Ting had been too shocked to speak when he came in. There on the bed lay two people, wrapped up in each other’s arms. One was a young, handsome man leaning elegantly against the bed, posed like a painting of a Sleeping Beauty, while the other, though dignified in bearing, was old enough to be a grandfather.
What kind of absurd situation was this?
Mo Li was equally surprised but quickly realized this must be an aftereffect of the storm they had encountered. Once they had both fallen into a deep sleep, their spiritual energy had become unstable, causing a slight loss of control.
Mo Li had been thinking before bed about aging his appearance a bit after leaving the city to make it easier to practice medicine, but Meng Qi… What had Meng Qi been thinking about in the middle of the night? Mo Li’s eyelid twitched slightly. Now he looked twenty years older than the day before, though his facial features were still recognizable, just with more wrinkles and a beard. It was still clearly him.
But there was no way he could go downstairs looking like this in front of the people from Cihui Hall.
“Ahem, Guanyong, you came just in time. Last night, we used a disguise technique, and we were planning to leave today.”
Meng Qi was a little scared, relieved that they weren’t in Lingyao Village; otherwise, it would have been troublesome if Doctor Peng had seen them.
But wait, it’s Doctor Peng, not the divine healer Qin, so what am I afraid of?
Meng Qi’s lips curled into a smile again as he leaned back arrogantly, saying, “What’s the matter? Were you stunned by our miraculous disguise technique?”
Bao Guanyong started to doubt whether his old eyes were failing him.
Yuan Ting, with a blank expression, thought to himself, Who are you trying to fool? If this is a disguise technique, I’ll swallow all the darts I just threw!
“National Teacher Meng, your silver tongue deceived my master…”
“Hold on!”
Meng Qi crossed his arms and lazily asked, “Don’t jump to accusations. What did I do? How did a dispute between you and your master involve me? The doctor and I were just passing through. We heard about the bandits at Pengze and stopped by your Fengxing Pavilion to ask a few questions. We wore masks to avoid trouble. I didn’t kill anyone or set any fires. We’ll leave just as we came. Yesterday, you were the ones who came to the pharmacy for a consultation, and Ah Li kindly treated your master. We didn’t leave Cihui Hall all night, so how did I deceive your master? He’s much older than me; what could I possibly deceive him about?”
As he said this, Meng Qi habitually winked at Mo Li.
The three in the room: “…”
Yuan Ting looked at the “elderly” Mo Li, then glanced at the equally aged Bao Guanyong.
——No, right now, you really look like a villain who tricks old men!
Mo Li wanted to laugh but held it in.
Meng Qi’s expression stiffened as he forced himself to say, “Bao Guanyong, if you don’t discipline your apprentice yourself, don’t blame me for forgetting old ties…”
Suddenly, silence.
——Forget old ties, and beat your apprentice.
There was originally nothing wrong with saying this among old comrades.
Mo Li quietly turned his back.
He really wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t undermine the sand rat.
The veins on Yuan Ting’s forehead bulged with anger. Of course, he knew that Shopkeeper Bao and Meng Qi had nothing improper between them, but Meng Qi’s words and demeanor were clearly meant to make them uncomfortable.
People in the martial world cared deeply about face, and such “humiliation” was truly infuriating!
“Meng Qi, you’ve gone too far—”
Yuan Ting grabbed his sword and shouted in fury, but before he could take a step, Shopkeeper Bao shoved him back with a single palm.
“Ting’er, don’t be rash!” Bao Guanyong was deeply troubled.
“If senior brother knew that you, the master, was considering retirement, how disappointed would he be? We’ve been in Fengxing Pavilion for so many years, and yet you thought of abandoning your disciples over this person?”
“Ting’er!”
“Enough, was everything you told me last night because of something Meng Qi said? What kind of old acquaintance has muddled your thinking like this?”
“You! National Teacher Meng and I are old friends. I’ve never mentioned it to you before. The general is someone I respect; you cannot treat him disrespectfully.”
Bao Guanyong’s face turned red with anger, and he nearly jumped three feet high, almost hitting the ceiling.
Meng Qi was pondering the situation, realizing it wasn’t really about him. He felt like sitting back with a pot of tea, a plate of sugar rice cakes, and some sunflower seeds to enjoy the show.
It was like watching a theatrical performance!
What a tangled mess of grudges and feelings—what would this script be called?
“Why do you call him ‘General’?”
“…Because I was once his vanguard officer. What else would I call him?”
“What?!”
Yuan Ting hadn’t known this detail. Besides, wasn’t Meng Qi supposed to be the National Teacher? How had he also led troops?
Author’s Note:
Yuan Ting’s intense reaction is because… The nine disciples, after decades of carefully disguising themselves as ordinary people while secretly harboring grand ambitions, are finally about to take action. But just as they’re ready to begin, their master suddenly tells them, “No, I don’t think this is going to work out. Discuss it with your senior brothers and see if we should retreat.”
His reasons: 1. Mr. Qiu is unreliable; 2. You’re not capable enough.
Even someone as composed as Yuan Ting would be frantic! “Meng Qi, what kind of bewitching soup did you feed my master?”
