Lan XiChen smiled, “It is fine. WangJi, should we leave, or would you like to help as well?”
Lan WangJi summoned Bichen in silence, “I will help.”
After they left on their swords, only a few people were left amid the trees, still chatting about what had happened. Soon later, someone strode out of the woods. Seeing the situation, he hesitated slightly.
The person was none but Jiang Cheng. On Phoenix Mountain, he heard others talk about how Lan WangJi’s and Jin ZiXuan’s sword glares appeared in the sky, like the two were fighting. In fear that Jiang YanLi was by Jin ZiXuan’s side, he came to check, but he was too late and everyone had gone off already. From the few people here, Jiang Cheng saw that Sect Leader Yao was the only one appearing somewhat familiar to him, “Sect Leader Yao, what happened here?”
Sect Leader Yao glanced at him, his tone meaningful, “Sect Leader Jiang, your sect’s Wei WuXian really is quite a character.”
Jiang Cheng frowned, “What do you mean?”
Sect Leader Yao laughed, “As if I dare mean anything. Sect Leader Jiang, you mustn’t take to heart what I said.”
Jiang Cheng’s face darkened. He knew that those weren’t good words and told himself that he had to find Wei WuXian later to sort it all out with him. Not in a mood to maintain false politeness with someone pretending to be clever, with a turn, he walked out of the woods. On his way, he could manage to catch the whispers of chatter coming from behind him. As if scared that he’d hear them, their voices were extremely low, but with his heightened senses, he could still hear the words clearly.
One of the sect leaders spoke in a sour tone, “This time, Lotus Pier is really the center of the show. Almost all of the spirits and corpses were summoned to the YunmengJiang Sect’s grounds. There’d definitely be a number of cultivators interested in them.”
Sect Leader Yao, “What could we do about it? Whose fault is it that our sects don’t have Wei WuXian’s?”
“It’s not necessarily a good thing to have Wei WuXian. I don’t want there to be someone in my sect always stirring up trouble for me.”
“Wei WuXian, he really is too bold… Anyways, from now on, I won’t attend any night-hunts that he’s going to.”
Someone sneered, “Huh? Interested in them? I don’t think so. To put it simply, they’re interested in Wei WuXian, aren’t they? Didn’t the YunmengJiang Sect grow in fame during the Sunshot Campaign only because of Wei WuXian?”
Jiang Cheng felt his entire body weigh down on him. It was as though something cast a haunting shadow on both his face and in his heart.
Chapter 71: Departure—Part Three
Translated by K of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Two months later, in Yunmeng.
After the QishanWen Sect collapsed, the city that used to be the most flourishing of all cities evaporated into thin air in just one night, falling into ruins. A large number of cultivators searched for new locations of activity, diverging into multiple new cities. Among them, Lanling, Yunmeng, Gusu, and Qinghe received the greatest influx of cultivators. On the streets, people hurried to and fro. All of the disciples carried swords by their waists, talking loftily about the fate of the current world. All of them were in high spirits.
Suddenly, the people on the streets lowered their voices slightly. In unison, they looked to the end of the street.
From there, a white-robed man wearing a forehead ribbon slowly approached, carrying with him a sword and a zither.
The man’s features were of unparalleled grace, but frost and snow seemed to surround his figure. Before he had even drawn nearer, the cultivators quieted on their own, meeting his eyes in respect. The more well-known ones bravened up and went forth to salute him, “HanGuang-Jun.”
Lan WangJi nodded slightly, returning the salutations without fault, and didn’t cease in his steps. The other cultivators didn’t dare bother him too much, knowing to back off.
Suddenly, however, from ahead of him came a young, grinning girl dressed in vibrant colors. In a hurry, she brushed shoulders with him, but suddenly tossed something toward his body.
Nimbly, Lan WangJi caught the object. He looked down to find the bud of a flower as white as snow.
The bud was delicate and fresh, having gathered some dew. As Lan WangJi maintained his silence, another slender figure approached from in front of him. With a wave of her hand, a small, blue flower was tossed at him. It was aiming for his chest, but ended up on his shoulder. Lan WangJi caught it as well. When he turned to look, the woman giggled before running away without even a hint of embarrassment.
The third time was a younger girl, who wore her hair in double-buns. Hopping over, in her arms she held a bunch of sprigs dotted with red buds. She fled as soon as she threw them toward his chest.
One after another, Lan WangJi had already gathered a bundle of colorful flowers, though he still stood expressionlessly in the middle of the streets. All of the cultivators who recognized HanGuang-Jun didn’t dare laugh even if they wanted to. They pretended to be serious, but their eyes kept on lingering. The ordinary people who didn’t recognize him, however, had already started to point at him. As Lan WangJi pondered with downcast eyes, he suddenly felt something weigh onto his head. He raised his hand. A pink medicinal peony, at the peak of its bloom, had landed flawlessly on the side of his head.
From on top of a building came a grinning voice, “Lan Zhan—ah, no, HanGuang-Jun—what a coincidence!”
Lan WangJi looked up to see an airy pavilion lined with layers and layers of gauze curtains. A black-robed man lay on his side over a red lacquer divan. One hand of his slender body dangled down, holding a fine liquor jar made of black clay. Half of the jar’s crimson tassel wrapped around his arm, while the other half swayed back and forth in the air.
Seeing Wei WuXian’s face, the disciples who were watching the scene all grew somewhat uncomfortable. Everyone knew that the YiLing Patriarch and HanGuang-Jun didn’t have a good relationship. When they fought together during the Sunshot Campaign, they’d often begin to argue. Nobody knew what could happen this time. As of the moment, they didn’t even bother to put on a polite pretense anymore, staring at the two as hard as they could.
Lan WangJi didn’t leave with a cold face, contrary to their conjectures. He only said, “It is you.”
Wei WuXian, “It’s me! Someone who does such a ridiculous thing has to be me. Where did you find the time to come to Yunmeng? If you’re not busy, come up here and have a drink?”
A few girls encircled him, all cramped onto the divan, laughing at those down below, “Yeah, Young Master, come up here and have a drink!”
The girls were the ones who tossed flowers at him earlier on. There was no need to say who was the person that told them to do such a thing.
Lowering his head, Lan WangJi turned around and proceeded to leave. Seeing that there was no reaction, Wei WuXian wasn’t surprised at all. With a click of his tongue, he rolled down the divan and drank a mouthful of the liquor in his jar. Yet, a few moments later, a series of footsteps came, lighter than heavy, calmer than rushed.
With steady steps, Lan WangJi walked up the stairs and parted the curtains as he entered. The bejeweled strings clinked crisply, almost melodically.
He placed the bundle of flowers that had hit him onto the small table, “Your flowers.”