Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Slick, Greasy Young Boy

"Wait, what's going on?" Wu Ning stopped in his tracks, staring wide-eyed at Meng Cangsheng.

How did he become her uncle in the sect? How did that lecherous Daoist, Old Xiao, become Princess Taiping’s senior uncle?

Meng Cangsheng merely shrugged and spread his hands, looking utterly nonchalant.

"Is there a problem? Princess Taiping’s master is my master’s senior brother—doesn’t that make her my niece in the sect?"

"Nonsense!" Wu Ning cursed inwardly, annoyed at Meng Cangsheng’s smugness.

"I know how to calculate seniority! Just tell me—what’s the story here?" The fire of gossip burned fiercely in Wu Ning’s heart, impossible to extinguish.

He and Meng Cangsheng huddled in a corner, listening intently.

—

Actually, it was quite simple to explain.

Whether you’re Princess Taiping or just a beggar on the roadside, once you join the Daoist order, you must have a master; that’s indisputable.

As for who Princess Taiping’s master was, it seemed no one cared in later generations. But come on—she was a royal princess, the favored child of Emperor Gaozong Li Zhi and Empress Wu Zetian. Could she possibly pick any random Daoist to be her master?

Her master was no ordinary figure, but Gaozong’s imperial Daoist—Pan Shizheng.

And Pan Shizheng had a master named Wang Yuanzhi, who happened to be Old Xiao’s master as well.

So, Princess Taiping’s master and Old Xiao were brothers in the sect, making Old Xiao her senior uncle.

—

Meng Cangsheng explained proudly, as if Pan Shizheng and Wang Yuanzhi were legendary figures. Wu Ning, however, had no concept of who they were.

Still, if they were respected by Li Zhi, they must be extraordinary.

"So Old Xiao can be considered from a prestigious lineage?"

"Of course!" Meng Cangsheng glared at him. "Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of my master’s elder Pan Shizheng or my grandmaster Wang Yuanzhi?"

"Uh..." Wu Ning felt awkward.

His knowledge of history was limited to what he learned in school; he truly had no idea who Pan Shizheng or Wang Yuanzhi were.

"Are they really impressive?"

"I only know Yuan Tiangang and Li Chunfeng."

Meng Cangsheng snorted disdainfully, "Those two are insignificant when it comes to Daoist arts. How could they be compared to my grandmaster and master’s elder?"

Wu Ning thought to himself, isn’t that a bit much?

He questioned, "But those are the two most famous Daoists of the Tang dynasty, aren’t they? Didn’t they create the 'Prophecy of Backward Push'?"

—

Meng Cangsheng countered Wu Ning with a single sentence, leaving him speechless.

"If they were so great, why didn’t Princess Taiping take them as her master? My master’s elder Pan Shizheng is a legitimate successor of the Supreme Purity Dao, third generation of the Northern Maoshan School."

"Oh," Wu Ning suddenly understood. "So he’s a Maoshan Daoist, then."

That he had heard of—represented by Lin Zhengying.

He glanced at Princess Taiping, who was walking toward the temple, thinking, so she’s not only a Daoist but a Maoshan priestess.

"What do you mean, Maoshan Daoist?" Meng Cangsheng scoffed. "Have you heard of the Zhang family of the Celestial Master Dao?"

"Celestial Master Zhang? Yes, I’ve heard of them!"

"Let me put it this way: Maoshan was originally a branch of the Celestial Master Dao. But today, even the Zhang family dares not claim themselves as the Supreme Purity orthodoxy—they must defer to Maoshan. All thanks to my master’s elder. So, what kind of figure do you think he is?"

Wu Ning nodded in agreement. The Zhang family had been a major Daoist clan since the Han dynasty. If they bowed to Maoshan, Maoshan must have been formidable in the Tang.

"That is indeed impressive."

—

"Of course!" Suddenly, Old Xiao interjected behind them, startling Wu Ning.

"You old—"

He spun around in annoyance, but his eyes immediately curved into crescents, his shoulders dropped, and he bowed deeply.

"Greetings, Your Highness!"

"Greetings, Immortal!"

Inside, he nearly cried; in his agitation, he’d forgotten Princess Taiping was here.

—

Wu Ning bowed, and Meng Cangsheng squatted on the ground, utterly bewildered. Neither had expected the uncle and niece to detour here instead of entering the temple directly.

Meng Cangsheng was embarrassed—he was supposed to be a master, but he’d been so busy bickering with Wu Ning that he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. How shameful.

He hurriedly stood up. "Master..."

"Junior Sister..."

"Junior Sister?"

Wu Ning’s heart jolted; she was a princess, yet Meng Cangsheng called her junior sister so naturally?

Princess Taiping quickly answered Wu Ning’s unspoken question.

She nodded slightly, "Senior Brother Meng, it’s been years since we parted in the capital. I hope you’ve been well."

So, they knew each other already.

At this moment, Old Xiao spoke up, "Cangsheng, my disciple, you’ve met your junior niece before. As for this one..."

The old Daoist smiled knowingly, "He’ll soon become your junior brother as well."

Again!?

Wu Ning cursed inwardly, but now he couldn’t protest—he could only keep quiet.

—

For the first time, Princess Taiping focused her gaze on Wu Ning, but only glanced at him, her expression tinged... with a hint of coldness.

What’s with the coldness? Wu Ning thought, I’d better get out of here.

He bowed again. "Since the immortal has guests, I won’t intrude further."

He turned to leave.

"Wait!" Old Xiao called him back.

"We’re all family here. Don’t leave—come with me into the hall." His tone brooked no argument.

Wu Ning was stunned; even Princess Taiping was surprised.

She had come to see Master Xiao not only as a courtesy to her uncle in the sect, but for other matters as well. She could understand Meng Cangsheng being invited into the hall, but this unrelated youth...

In fact, when she’d arrived in the snowy mountains and stepped out of her sedan chair, she’d seen two people lurking behind the wall. She’d also heard Wu Ning’s casual remark, "This is boring, let’s go," spoken aloud.

Though she wasn’t offended, being dismissed by a mountain youth was unsettling for someone of her status. That earlier coldness, and her deliberate refusal to acknowledge Master Xiao’s introduction, had a touch of girlish petulance.

From the start, Wu Ning had left Princess Taiping with a poor impression—a slick, oily adolescent.

Why would her senior uncle invite him into the hall with her?

Princess Taiping frowned and looked at Master Xiao, her gaze questioning.

Master Xiao, seeing her thoughts, smiled gently. "Don’t doubt, my niece. He can help you."

"..."

"..."

Neither Princess Taiping nor Wu Ning understood.

He’d just come to pay a visit—why did it seem as if this old Daoist had planned it all along?

Little did Wu Ning know, even if he hadn’t come today, Master Xiao would have sent Meng Cangsheng to fetch him soon enough.

"Come in."

Without giving them time to think, Master Xiao led the way into the hall, leaving Princess Taiping and Wu Ning to consider.

Wu Ning watched the old Daoist’s retreating figure, growing serious.

He met Princess Taiping’s gaze, and stood aside courteously.

"After you, Princess."

...