Chapter Seventy-Nine: Crimson Lips as Lush as Blossoming Peach Flowers

This young lady, Yu Bai, was clearly unaware of the ancient tradition of hospitality in Huaxia. She sat herself down at the stone table, entirely at ease, ready to share in the meal. Zhong Ming, out of options, could hardly turn her out after having invited her into his courtyard. With a troubled heart, he went inside to prepare a sumptuous dinner.

A guest is a guest; since Yu Bai and little Feifei had already decided to stay for supper, Zhong Ming could not treat them with indifference. He brought out the last of his beef and the wild hare gifted by Lu Dashu a few days prior, once again displaying his remarkable culinary skills.

If Yu Bai was at fault for not understanding social niceties, it would be a failing of his own character to treat her with pretense or neglect.

A prime minister’s heart is vast enough to sail boats, and a general’s shoulders broad enough for horses to gallop. For a young woman so innocent of the ways of the world, Zhong Ming would hardly be so narrow-minded.

At his call to bring the dishes, Liang Yu hurriedly served three dishes and a soup: stir-fried beef, braised rabbit, stir-fried garland chrysanthemum, and shepherd’s purse soup. In the mansions of the nobility, these would be unimpressive, but in a humble village like Yuni, such fare was only seen at New Year, or in Zhong Ming’s home.

In New Tang, the wealthy and powerful adhered to many rules, even when it came to meat: pork was forbidden, for it came from pigs raised in the mud, considered filthy and only fit for the lowest classes due to its strong odor. Beef was beloved by generals, while game was prized by the gentry for its unique flavor.

Draft oxen were vital for farming and could not be slaughtered at will; only those who died accidentally or of old age could be eaten, and even then, only by the families of officials. Commoners caught eating such meat would be breaking the law.

Fortunately, on the border, Yang Yanlang wielded enough authority that his soldiers had beef each month. There were always enough "accidentally deceased" cattle, and even if there weren’t, those eager to curry favor with Captain Yang would find a way. Thanks to this, beef regularly made its way to Zhong Ming’s home.

With summer, the wild creatures of the Suiyun Mountains grew more active. Every ten days, Hu Su would lead the village men into the forest to hunt, and the hunters would always set aside the finest catches for Mr. Zhong. For two months now, his household had never lacked for meat—a necessity for a man who practiced swordsmanship daily.

All in all, tonight’s meal was as fine a welcome as Zhong Ming could offer.

As the dishes were served, their aroma filled the air. Zhong Ming gestured to his two female guests. “Ladies, please begin.”

Yu Bai was composed, having seen many delicacies on her travels. She lifted a corner of her conical hat with poise and picked up her chopsticks. Little Feng Mufei, on the other hand, was utterly without manners, reaching straight for the beef with her hands, only to have her little fingers rapped by Zhong Ming’s chopsticks. He pointed at the pair of chopsticks before her. “One does not eat with their hands—use chopsticks.”

“Chopsticks?” She grabbed one in each hand, trying to pick up the beef, but after several failed attempts, she grew flustered. “These two little sticks are impossible to use!”

Zhong Ming couldn’t help but laugh. Who would have thought that this precocious little girl didn’t know how to use chopsticks? It made her seem no older than a child of six or seven.

He helped her adjust her grip, teaching her as he asked, “Feifei, you don’t know how to use chopsticks?”

Finally managing to pick up a piece of beef, Feng Mufei stuffed it into her mouth, her eyes sparkling with delight. “It’s delicious!” she exclaimed.

After savoring it for a while, she remembered to answer his question. “No, in our palace, we eat wild fruit and drink sweet dew. We just pick up fruit with our hands—why bother with these little sticks?”

Zhong Ming was a bit surprised. “So you’ve never had cooked dishes? Never tasted meat roasted over fire?”

She shook her head, chewing another bite of beef. “Grandfather says all living things have a soul. Eating wild fruit is a necessity, but beasts should not be eaten—it would hinder our spiritual cultivation.”

The little girl ate happily, and Zhong Ming found himself growing curious. He asked, “Feifei, you and your father don’t seem like you’re from these borderlands, nor do you resemble the people of White Jade Capital. I’ve heard that Penglai Palace of the Eastern Sea is a paradise of music and rites. Are you from Southern Han, by any chance, disciples of Penglai Palace?”

Feng Mufei put a finger to her lips, swallowed a mouthful of greens, and whispered, “Brother Zhong Ming, don’t ask. It’s enough that you have your suspicions. My father and I are here in New Tang on important business. It’s not convenient to say more, and I won’t reveal anything.”

Clever as ever. Zhong Ming coughed, hiding his embarrassment by reaching for more food.

Next to him, Liang Yu laughed heartily, placing a piece of rabbit for Feifei. “Little sister, you’re sharp-tongued. I rarely see Brother Ming at a loss for words!”

“Eat your food!” Zhong Ming silenced him with a chunk of beef.

Unlike the three who joked and laughed, Yu Bai remained an outsider, eating quietly. Each time she wished to take a bite, she would lift the corner of her hat, then let the black veil fall back down.

Zhong Ming frowned. In his previous life, his father never allowed hats at the table—it was considered disrespectful. But considering Yu Bai’s special status, perhaps she had her reasons, so he said nothing.

Feifei, ever observant, finally paused to say, “Sister Yu Bai, isn’t it troublesome to eat with your hat on? It’s not as if you can’t be seen—why hide your face when you’re so pretty?”

When they first met on the mountain, Feifei had seen Yu Bai without her hat.

Her words struck a chord. Yu Bai truly was afraid of being seen. When she first left home, she hadn’t worn a hat, but her beauty always attracted attention, drawing the gaze of countless men and the flattery of many scoundrels. Thus, she began to wear the conical hat.

Habit had made it second nature. For three months now, she hadn’t removed it in public. Only now, with Feifei’s words, did she realize how improper it was to wear it at the table.

She explained softly, “It’s just a habit.”

With that, Yu Bai lifted her hand and removed her hat.

By the flickering lamplight upon the stone table, a face of unparalleled beauty was revealed.

Under the starlight, both Zhong Ming and Liang Yu were transfixed, the piece of meat on Liang’s chopsticks tumbling onto the stone.

What a face it was: skin as fine as mutton fat jade, lips red as peach blossoms, eyes that seemed to hold the very stars and moon, a beauty so enchanting it seemed to draw in the soul itself.

By lamplight, all celestial radiance was eclipsed by her presence.

It took Zhong Ming a long while to come to himself. Two lines of poetry drifted through his mind, and he recited softly, “Her eyes are bright and keen, worthy of admiration; brows like willow leaves, lips red as cinnabar. Truly, Miss Yu Bai is a fairy descended to the mortal realm.”

Beside him, Liang Yu hastily wiped his mouth, managing only, “She’s too beautiful—prettier than the courtesan Hongjie at Hongfang Pavilion!”

In Liang’s world, Hongjie was the fairest of women on the border.

Yu Bai seemed to have expected their praise. She was only surprised that Zhong Ming’s poetry was rather good and replied with a mocking snort, not bothering to continue the conversation.

No matter how fine the poetry, she had seen too many men lose themselves at the sight of her face. Yu Bai felt little respect for such people.

Sometimes she even wished her mother had made her plain, so she would not have drawn so much trouble, both in the palace and the world at large, for this troublesome beauty.

Liang Yu grew more besotted the more he looked, nearly stuffing rice up his nose without realizing. Zhong Ming, more experienced in the ways of the world, composed himself quickly. After all, he had seen many celebrities in his previous life; after a few glances, Yu Bai’s beauty ceased to astonish him.

He rapped Liang Yu’s head to break his trance. “Eat your food!”

Seeing Zhong Ming return to normal so quickly, Yu Bai frowned slightly.

It seemed that after Yu Bai had removed her hat, the meal lost its flavor. With a fairy so pleasing to the eye, earthly delicacies felt mundane by comparison—except, perhaps, for little Feng Mufei, whose mouth was too busy to speak.

When the meal was finished and Zhong Ming urged Liang Yu to clear the dishes, Yu Bai finally spoke. “Thank you for your hospitality. As for the matter of the horse, let us consider it settled.”

“What horse?” Zhong Ming still had no idea. Yu Bai kept saying he owed her a horse, but he couldn’t recall ever touching hers.

She snorted and said nothing, clearly deeming the question beneath her.

Feng Mufei, ever helpful, took a red berry from her pocket and handed it to Zhong Ming, popping another into her own mouth as she explained how the white horse had been startled into the forest, leaving Yu Bai lost on the mountain.

Zhong Ming could only click his tongue—so it was his fault? In his eyes, Yu Bai simply wanted an excuse to share a meal.

He bit into the berry, finding the sweet juice surprisingly delicious. “Feifei, what kind of fruit is this? Give me another?”

“There’s none left! If your food hadn’t been so good, I wouldn’t have given you any at all!” Clutching her pocket, Feifei hopped off the bench and scampered away.

Soon, only Zhong Ming and Yu Bai remained at the stone table, an awkward silence settling between them.

A gentle night breeze drifted by. The silence was mercifully broken by a stream of radiant light descending from Wangxian City, landing in Zhong Ming’s courtyard.

Feng Ning had returned, his face lit with joy, clearly satisfied with his trip.

When he arrived, Zhong Ming immediately rose and bowed. “Mister Feng, you have returned.”

Feifei hurried over to hug her father’s leg, calling sweetly, “Papa, you’re finally back! Brother Zhong Ming made the most delicious meal—you missed out!”

Feng Ning patted her head, then bowed to Zhong Ming. “Sorry to trouble you, Mister Zhong. My daughter has been a handful.”

“Not at all. It’s rare to meet someone as appreciative as you, Mister Feng—I’d gladly host you for a few more days.”

Empty pleasantries, for in truth Zhong Ming longed for these three to leave. Now that Feng Ning was back, safe and sound, Zhong Ming felt a wave of relief. Now, surely, they would move on and he could have his peace.

But Feng Ning smiled. “In that case, I may take you up on it. I do have business in the Suiyun Mountains for the next few days. Allow me to be frank: I am from Southern Han. Wangxian City may be New Tang territory, but the inns are unsuitable for us. We must impose on your village a while longer. Would you happen to have a spare room?”

Zhong Ming’s smile froze. His eye twitched.

One after another—did none of them understand polite refusal? Were they all so shameless?

For a moment, Zhong Ming wanted to shout: “All of you, get out!”

But reality left him no such recourse. He could only take a deep breath and hesitate. “I’m afraid…”

Sensing his reluctance, Feng Ning moved forward, placing a hand over Zhong Ming’s lower abdomen. His five fingers pressed lightly.

A clear note, like a pipa string, rang out in Zhong Ming’s ears, its music lingering.

The sound seemed to resonate within him, again and again, striking his body from within.

The dantian, long frozen over, shattered with a crack.

The crystalline frost melted, and the two dormant streams of red true energy began to swirl, joined by the wood energy. A long-missed warmth bloomed in his core, rising up his spine and suffusing his body.

Feng Ning stepped back with a smile. “Mister Zhong, I do not know what caused your condition, but consider this a favor for your hospitality—a deposit, if you will, for your spare room. When my business here is done, I will owe you a debt.”

Zhong Ming stood dumbfounded for a long while before joy overtook him. He nearly shouted with excitement. The unsealing of his dantian thrilled him more than when he first learned inner force.

Suppressing his elation, he replied without hesitation, “Please, come with me, Mister Feng.”

He led Feng Ning and his daughter to Fei Dacheng’s old courtyard. Fei had no further need of it, and though modest, it was still habitable.

“Mister Feng, what do you think of this place?”

Any place would suffice; truthfully, Feng Ning could have slept outdoors without much concern. But he had brought his daughter and did not wish her to suffer, and he also had a mind to deepen relations with Zhong Ming.

He took one look and nodded. “Thank you, this will do nicely.”

Still elated by the unfreezing of his dantian, Zhong Ming smiled. “Stay as long as you wish, Mister Feng. It’s late—please rest, and if you need anything, let me know tomorrow.”

“Many thanks, Mister Zhong.” Feng Ning bowed and saw him out.

As Zhong Ming left, Feng Ning closed the door. Feifei sat on a little stool, nibbling candied fruit. “Papa, aren’t you supposed to be watching the spiritual veins in the mountain? Why are you staying in this little village? Is it because you want Brother Zhong Ming’s song?”

Feng Ning laughed. “You sharp little thing—nothing escapes your eyes.”

But as his laughter faded, his expression grew serious. He murmured, “A tune called ‘Unrivaled Under Heaven’—perhaps it truly could make me unrivaled.”

Penglai Palace was famed for its music. To break through each great stage of cultivation, one required a song of their own—a piece that captured both the heart and the intent, not unlike a sword technique. Such things were rare and precious.

His request to stay was an excuse; what he truly wanted was that song.

In the days to come, Feng Ning would wait for news about the spiritual veins’ awakening, but he would also try to coax the tune ‘Unrivaled Under Heaven’ from Zhong Ming.

A song with a master, Penglai Palace could sense the will of the Heavenly Dao through melody.

Feng Ning sensed that the realm within that tune belonged to Zhong Ming, though he also knew Zhong Ming did not fully grasp its significance. Whether or not Zhong Ming had composed it himself, Feng Ning did not care—he simply wanted to obtain the song and have its essence imparted to him.

Only with Zhong Ming’s consent could the song become Feng Ning’s stepping stone to a higher realm.

Feng Ning had been stuck at the Threshold Realm for many years, lacking a song of sufficient depth to break through. Now, having heard one that resonated with his heart and contained great meaning, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

As for how to obtain it—by guile or by honest request—Feng Ning had yet to decide. It was a matter of his cultivation’s future, and tonight he would ponder his approach carefully.

Unaware of these plans, Zhong Ming was in high spirits. Accompanied by moon and stars, he hummed a tune as he returned to his courtyard.

Back in his yard, he found Liang Yu sitting at the stone bench beside Yu Bai, chattering away. “Miss Yu Bai, where are you from? Why come to this desolate border? How many people are in your family…”

His endless questions received no answer; Yu Bai sat stone-faced. It was like a painfully awkward matchmaking scene, and Zhong Ming could only rub his forehead.

He stepped up and tapped Liang’s head. “Stop pestering her.” Turning to Yu Bai, he said, “Miss Yu Bai, it’s late. Perhaps you should return to your lodgings. We can talk tomorrow.”

Yu Bai stood, face cold. “Zhong Ming, I’ve thought it over. The matter of the horse cannot be so easily settled. That was a fine steed, worth sixty taels of silver!”

Zhong Ming was at his wit’s end. A horse that had nothing to do with him, and she was still not letting it go?

“My lady, just tell me, what do you want as compensation? If it comes to it, I’ll give you that gold ingot—will that do?”

He only wanted to be rid of this troublesome goddess.

He didn’t see that Yu Bai’s cheeks had reddened. She knew she was being unreasonable, making a scene for no good reason, but she couldn’t help herself.

Feigning a stern face, Yu Bai said, “Don’t call me ‘sister.’ I’m not your sister, and I don’t want your money. Just find me a place to stay for two days, and the matter will be settled.”