After a brief scramble, Bao Guanyong successfully took his disciple away.
Meng Qi followed them because the people from Cihui Hall were already rushing upstairs with wooden sticks.
Moreover, if they delayed any longer, Fengxing Pavilion would notice something was wrong, as it was too close. In name, those people were the subordinates of Yuan Ting and his disciples, but this was the martial world, not a military camp, so it was impossible to enforce strict orders. There were always people who served as spies for Luling County.
The spies didn’t need to know too much; they just had to report any unusual movements by Bao Guanyong and his disciple.
Bao Guanyong had been pretending to be ill for a while, and if something happened to Yuan Ting now, it would mean directly falling out with Luling County.
As soon as the three of them left, Mo Li immediately changed his appearance.
Time was tight, and there might have been a few wrinkles left unflattened.
“Doctor Mo, didn’t you sleep well last night?” The apprentice at Cihui Hall was startled because Mo Li looked several years older.
Mo Li had no choice but to nod and say, “I was startled by a stray cat in the middle of the night and was also worried about my relatives from out of town. I didn’t fall asleep until dawn.”
Earlier, he had told Cihui Hall that he was seeking refuge with relatives, but his journey was delayed by a rainstorm and floods, and his luggage was washed away. He had planned to stay only a few days.
“Who were those people that just came in? Heavens, there’s even a hidden weapon here!”
The people from Cihui Hall shouted as they pointed at the throwing dart stuck in the wall.
“It seemed to be a grudge between martial artists. They fought their way in,” Mo Li lied through gritted teeth. “They didn’t look at me once, only concerned with fighting each other. I just hid to the side, thinking to sneak downstairs when they left.”
Such incidents weren’t uncommon in the martial world—breaking through rooftops, crashing into people’s homes, accidentally injuring civilians…
They wouldn’t offer compensation or care about the injured, just leaving as they pleased.
Mo Li thought of Qin Lu and secretly apologized to his teacher, I’m getting better at lying.
“That was close!” The people from Cihui Hall breathed a sigh of relief, quickly lowering their wooden sticks. Only a few pieces of furniture had been overturned in the room, the curtains were torn, but the damage wasn’t too bad.
Most importantly, no one was injured.
Money is just an external thing—human life is what truly matters. How could the people running a pharmacy and clinic not understand this?
The two doctors from Cihui Hall also climbed up, panting and fearful at the sight of the mess in the room.
“Doctor Mo, you must have been frightened. It’s my fault; if I had sent someone to wake you up earlier, none of this would have happened—”
“Not at all, it’s my fault for oversleeping,” Mo Li quickly replied.
Even though nothing had happened, others thought he had been badly shaken and rushed to help him downstairs.
Unable to refuse, Mo Li followed them down. Taking advantage of the narrow, dim staircase, he quickly smoothed out the extra wrinkles and adopted a tired expression.
After washing his face with warm water, rinsing his mouth, and changing his clothes, Mo Li completely returned to his appearance from the previous day.
The apprentices at Cihui Hall found it a bit strange but could only attribute it to Mo Li’s poor sleep.
Patients were already waiting at the pharmacy door. Although none had emergencies, it wasn’t good to keep people waiting, and the sun was already making it quite hot. So, after the two doctors from Cihui Hall and Mo Li took turns having breakfast, they went to the front to start seeing patients.
On the other side, Yuan Ting, relying on his qinggong and familiarity with the terrain, quickly made his way into a dark alley.
The air here was unpleasant, with debris floating in the remaining dirty water.
Yuan Ting landed on a relatively clean patch of ground, only to look back and see Meng Qi silently standing atop a horse-hitching post.
This wasn’t the kind of ornate horse-hitching post you’d find at a wealthy household, carved with decorative human or animal shapes. It was just a wobbly half-rotten wooden post, probably more often used for tying up mules. It wasn’t very sturdy—likely even a large dog could pull it out and run away with enough force.
Now, soaked by floodwaters, the post was decayed and crooked. Who besides a stray cat would dare stand on it?
At the moment, Meng Qi was standing a good head taller than Yuan Ting. His shoes were spotless, without a speck of dust or dirt.
This alley wasn’t short either.
After the floodwaters receded, the walls were marked not only with water stains but also with moss and grime.
Unless someone’s feet didn’t touch the ground and they only stepped on the upper parts of the walls, moving lightly and silently, only then could they avoid the dust that would kick up and settle after they’d already passed by…
Yuan Ting’s pupils contracted.
It took him a while to realize that his master had disappeared.
He was about to blurt out a question, but thankfully his mind cooled down in time. He realized that the commotion earlier had been too loud, and it was right at Fengxing Pavilion’s entrance—how could they not investigate? If neither he nor Shopkeeper Bao were there, it would surely raise suspicion.
“This way,” Yuan Ting said stiffly, turning his head.
The alley was deep, with several twists and turns.
This time, Yuan Ting was especially cautious about what was behind him and noticed that the person following him was truly like a ghost, appearing and disappearing at will.
Yuan Ting thought Meng Qi was just trying to show off and keep himself hidden. However, when Meng Qi stayed out of sight for a bit too long, Yuan Ting stopped in surprise.
After a short while, a light figure flipped over the rooftop from the other side, holding a small paper package tied with a thin string.
The paper package had an apricot blossom logo on it, which was from the famous pastry shop in the city.
Yuan Ting quickly did the math—wasn’t that shop just around the corner from here?
So Meng Qi had been walking on rooftops while looking for a pastry shop?
Yuan Ting was so furious he was almost dumbfounded.
On any other day, such an arrogant act, such blatant disrespect, would have been intolerable. But after the chaos earlier, Yuan Ting had already figured out that Meng Qi was the kind of person who didn’t care about anyone. He hadn’t come looking for a fight this morning—he’d wanted to expose Meng Qi’s ulterior motives in front of Bao Guanyong. If Meng Qi had made a move, it would have played right into his hands! But who could have guessed the relationship between Meng Qi and his master? Yuan Ting had been completely outplayed.
Defeat was defeat, but Yuan Ting still had a fire in his belly. He led Meng Qi to a secluded little house, his face cold.
It was an empty house. The county town wasn’t very prosperous, so there were always some houses that couldn’t be sold and remained unoccupied.
Fengxing Pavilion kept track of all the information, big and small, within the city, and Yuan Ting knew exactly where to have a private conversation without drawing attention.
The house was small but very clean, clearly regularly maintained by someone.
Though Yuan Ting’s expression was dark, his hands didn’t slow. He skillfully reached into a corner and pulled out a jar of tea leaves, then placed a water-filled teapot onto a small stove.
Everything was perfectly in place, and he moved with practiced ease, showing he had planned for this in advance.
Meng Qi raised an eyebrow, mocking lightly, “It seems someone is deliberately causing trouble today. ‘Mountain Descending Tiger’? A tiger that roars in the forest and abandons the mountain must truly be fearless!”
Yuan Ting suppressed his anger as he added more coal to the stove, his face dark as he said, “Master Meng, no need for veiled insults. What I rely on is certainly not my master.”
“Ha!”
Meng Qi glanced at him. Though he didn’t say anything, the meaning was clear: if not for Bao Guanyong, Yuan Ting would have been nursing a black-and-blue face for at least half a month.
“Throwing hidden weapons through the window was… inappropriate!” Yuan Ting gritted his teeth. “But with your skills, neither of you would have been hit.”
Besides, Meng Qi’s martial arts were even more formidable than Yuan Ting had imagined.
“Oh? Just because it wouldn’t hit, does that mean you can recklessly throw things around?” Meng Qi’s face darkened as well. He couldn’t care less whose disciple Yuan Ting was.
In the martial world and among scholars, people respected the hierarchy between master and disciple, but not in the military! Colleagues could seek advice from each other, superiors could instruct their subordinates, and generals could even ask soldiers for tips on horse care. Especially since Bao Guanyong had once served as a drill instructor in the Chu border army, his disciples could probably fill this entire town!
Meng Qi wasn’t interested in arguing about this. In fact, he had even taught Bao Guanyong military strategy for a few days.
Years ago, as a young general at the age of fourteen, everyone worried that his fearlessness would lead him into trouble, so they all intentionally displayed their skills in front of Bao Guanyong, showing the young general that there were always greater people and higher heavens, reminding him that arrogance had no place in leading troops into battle.
Later, they left Bao Guanyong stationed at the border, worried that his youthful pride might cause trouble. Bao also preferred the military life over the nitpicking scrutiny in Taijing, so they let him slowly build his reputation in the army, preparing him to take over one day—
But now, what future was left?
Meng Qi thought of Bao Guanyong, who had been falsely accused, stripped of his rank, exiled, and now bedridden with illness. That was how he met that man named Qiu. Yesterday, when Bao Guanyong feigned illness, Yuan Ting’s urgent plea for a doctor didn’t seem fake, and Meng Qi’s anger subsided a little.
However, the anger still needed an outlet.
“Doctor Mo spent the entire day treating patients, and here you are, barging in early in the morning, shouting and threatening violence. Do you think you’re in the right?” Meng Qi pressed aggressively, simply because Yuan Ting had woken Mo Li up.
Yuan Ting’s face flushed red. He wanted to argue, but then he remembered that Mo Li had saved several people and even delivered a baby for a woman in a difficult labor.
Despite Bao Guanyong’s change of heart after returning from treatment—asking him and his fellow disciples to abandon their long-held aspirations and not get involved in King Ning’s rebellion, which had enraged Yuan Ting—he couldn’t take out his frustration on a doctor. Even if this doctor seemed to be allied with Meng Qi and might have influenced Bao…
No! Yuan Ting shut his eyes in pain. Bao Guanyong had started feigning illness a month ago, long before Meng Qi was even within a thousand miles!
His master had already begun to retreat from their cause.
It had been over a decade. Fengxing Pavilion had existed for more than ten years, and all nine of Bao Guanyong’s disciples had held the dream of restoring the Chu Dynasty. They had waited too long for this day.
What had happened to their master? What poison had Meng Qi fed him?
“Disturbing Doctor Mo was my fault. But how do you explain the enmity between the National Master and the Emperor of Chu, which harms those of us loyal to the restoration of Chu?”
As Yuan Ting’s forehead throbbed with bulging veins, Meng Qi finally understood. Yuan Ting believed that Meng Qi’s interference in King Ning’s rebellion stemmed from a personal grudge against the Chu Emperor, unable to bear seeing the Chu Dynasty revived.
The mocking smile on Meng Qi’s face slowly disappeared. Suddenly, he moved, slamming Yuan Ting’s face onto the wooden table in front of him.
“What did your master tell you last night? Let me guess… did he say you’re not up to the task, or that the son of King Ning chosen by Mr. Qiu is useless?”
“It’s you! It’s definitely you!”
Yuan Ting’s eyes widened in shock. Bao Guanyong’s cryptic words subtly hinted that Mr. Qiu had ulterior motives, supporting an incompetent candidate for the throne.
He struggled several times, but before Meng Qi had slammed his face down, he had quickly pressed a finger onto a vital point on the back of Yuan Ting’s neck. The burst of internal force instantly shattered the true qi that Yuan Ting had gathered for resistance.
“I guess it was the latter. After all, he’s soft-hearted, and you’re his disciples. At most, he’d drop a few hints, but he wouldn’t directly tell you that you’re not good enough.”
Meng Qi sneered coldly, kicking Yuan Ting in the knee through the table.
He didn’t hold back with that kick—if it were an ordinary person, their bones would probably have broken. Yuan Ting held on, managing not to fall to his knees, but cold sweat poured down his forehead.
“But the fact is, you really aren’t good enough—far from it! That Mr. Qiu drew you a grand vision, and you all rushed in headlong, actually believing that after raising troops, you’d pacify Jiangnan in three years and unify the country in ten! Smart people always have one fatal flaw—they think that apart from themselves, there are no other talents in the world. Do you think that Mr. Qiu is too clever for his own good, or is he planning to use you for an initial strike, seize some territory, and then slowly consolidate his power?”
Meng Qi pressed down so hard that Yuan Ting’s face became distorted. Yuan Ting struggled, his eyes flashing with anger. “How do you know about the young prince? My master would never reveal such a thing to you!”
“The young prince? So, you’ve already started calling him that. I wonder if King Ning knows how important this son of his is…”
“What are you planning to do?” Yuan Ting shouted angrily.
Meng Qi looked down at him with contempt and said, “What would I need to do? King Ning is a foolish lecher. The moment he becomes aware of your plans and realizes his son is more valuable to you than to him, he’ll likely turn around and kill that child himself. Your Mr. Qiu should know the King’s temperament. If I were him, I’d spread rumors of King Ning’s serious illness soon after the rebellion begins.”
“You—”
Meng Qi was already losing his patience. He lifted Yuan Ting slightly, then slammed him back down onto the table with force.
Yuan Ting gritted his teeth in pain, but he froze at Meng Qi’s next cold and venomous words.
“The Chu Dynasty that you’re so eager to restore—my friends and I built it over decades, with sleepless nights and endless efforts. The history books only record it in a few lines, but you don’t know the full story, and I don’t blame you for that. But Duke Wei, Marquis Jingyuan, Prime Minister Deng—what they did, you dare claim you don’t know? The Chu Dynasty doesn’t belong to the Li family alone, nor will it be restored by you shouting a few slogans about reclaiming lost lands. It belongs to everyone who gave their lives and youth for it. Your master is one of those people! He has every right to scold you and doubt you!”
Meng Qi’s lips curled into a sarcastic smile. “Li Yuanze’s sons, aside from the crown prince, are all useless! Emperor Ling of Chu was his best son, and those who were cast aside—whether it was King Jing, King Wu, or King Ning—were all worthless fools! I haven’t seen these Kings since they were thirty, but do you think I don’t know what kind of people they were in their youth? If King Ning really produced a talented son, and that talent had nothing but you ragtag misfits under his command, how could he restore the Chu Dynasty? Or do you think you lot alone are capable of reviving it? You only know of the Chu Dynasty’s golden age, but you have no idea what others sacrificed for it! You’ve learned a few basic skills, read a few military books, and now you think you’re bringing blessings to the people by starting a war?”
Yuan Ting was panting heavily.
Meng Qi flicked his sleeves and walked away.
Gritting his teeth, Yuan Ting struggled to stand. Clutching his bruised, swollen face, he shouted angrily, “You’re not even the real National Master Meng! How could a ninety-year-old elder be like you?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, a stone flew through the air and hit the knee that had been kicked earlier.
Already injured, Yuan Ting couldn’t keep his balance and collapsed to the ground with a thud.
As Meng Qi left the house, he thought with dissatisfaction:
What ninety-year-old elder? “National Master Meng” is clearly only eighty-seven.
He reached into his sleeve and felt the paper package. The pastries were probably cold by now—he had to hurry back to find Ah Li.
Author’s note:
National Master Meng: The younger generation may indeed surpass the older, but you’re not even a ripple.
Actually, Meng Qi had already calmed down when he thought about Bao Guanyong earlier, but his reverse scale was still hit.
