Nightfall Chapter 101

The tall and thin Taoist dipped his finger in wine and continued to write on the rosewood table, and soon all the twenty-nine characters on the paper were copied. He sucked his finger and put his hands down. He then, lowered his body to take a closer look at the table, continuing to scan over those pieces of paper in the account book carefully.

During his scrutiny, his eyebrows became more tightly frowned, and he shook his head more and more frequently with even more confusion, mumbling, "What style is this? I have never encountered it before. There are no fluctuations of primordial Qi, but why are those hidden in the strokes so vigorous? Obviously, those strokes are messy and disordered, but when tracing them with concentration, why I feel tightened in my mind?"

Then he straightened up and paced half a circle in the house. Soon after he quickened to the rosewood table and continued to examine those characters on the paper, still with his eyebrows tightened. Then he waved his head and constantly said, "Blocked! Blocked! Not blocked? No!"

No matter how serious the disputes and conflicts were among the three main cultivation factions and among countries, nobody had the courage to show a slight disrespect to Divine Talisman Masters, because cultivators were rare, yet Divine Talisman Masters were hardly ever seen. The Divine Talisman Masters living at the border of the earthy world and the cultivation could bring gusts and storms by the rise of their pen and startle the world when a pen set. So they were of crucial importance to cultivation as well as warfare, who were almost equal to non-renewable resources thus worthy of the highest respect.

The most powerful country in the world contemporarily, was the Tang Empire, yet it only owned Divine Talisman Masters of no more than ten, most of whom had abandoned the mortal world to seclude in the Academy or wooded mountains to pursue Taoism, devoting the rest of their lives to exploring the secret in the law of nature, and thus leaving merely a few in the earthly world. Among the four Divine Talisman Masters from the South School of Haotian Taoism, two were envoys designated to Chang'an by the West-Hill Divine Palace to demonstrate its power and influence and were not permanent residents in Chang'an. In this sense, there were just two Divine Talisman Masters from the South School of Haotian Taoism.

This tall and thin Taoist visiting the House of Red Sleeves tonight was one of the two.

He was called Yan Se, who was the Senior Brother of Li Qingfeng, the Master of Tang Empire, and Minister of Offerings in the South School of Haotian Taoism. He preferred spirits, beauty and wonderful calligraphy, and in terms of talisman art, he had already been one of the top figures. Under the torrents of Spring rain that night, the talisman he drew out of rainwater in the alley had greatly threatened Wang Jinglue, the inborn talent in cultivation who was known as invincible among those under Knowing Destiny State. It was indeed marvelous.

Besides various Martial Arts of Talisman, what Divine Talisman Masters were most commended for was their ingenious state and writing skill on pieces of paper. It was said that a great calligrapher or painter would not become a Divine Talisman Master without the potential for cultivation, while all Divine Talisman Masters were famous calligraphers or painters crowned with eternal glory.

Yan Se was a Divine Talisman Master indulging in brothels, however, he could be a top master in calligraphy anytime he wanted. But, such a big shot like him shouldn't have been attracted by messy scripts on an accounting paper, and even still couldn't find a solution after racking his brains, and thus repeatedly claimed, "blocked". Those calligraphers and powerful cultivation practitioners would've been shocked to be speechless if they were on the spot. What's more, they would be curious about Ning Que, whose calligraphy had puzzled a Divine Talisman Master –What on earth kind of man was he?

A messy script with twenty-nine words should put Yan Se, the great Divine Talisman Master in confusion. It was not because Ning Que was capable, but because his mental state perfectly corresponded to his style of writing at that point for various reasons.

He was somewhat enlightened by those books in the old library, that was, to remember the form and neglect the meaning. Driven by such exultance, he went to the brothel with his classmates to drink like a fish. Under a drunken state, he randomly picked up the brush pen and composed that hasty calligraphy, during which the inspirations he got had helped him to dispel all strict restrictions of writing, and even impelled him to break the rules of stokes subconsciously in a dead drunk. Twisting plum blossoms and pushing down the grape trellis, he was driven by the tipsy feeling to frantically splash the ink for a sprawling and unclear result.

Unexpectedly, such a deliberation actually opened a new path, which coincidentally conjoined to the trick of cultivation in an unwieldy manner. A mere calligrapher might not necessarily feel it special, however, in the eyes of a Divine Talisman Master, it had poked the tickle, the kind that remained unstirred for sixty years and would itch to the deepest of his bone once triggered!

As for the comment Yan Se had given to the calligraphy, it was totally correct because Ning Que was inborn blocked. He was obstructed by rules of cultivation and all his acupoints in Snow Mountain and Ocean of Qi remained blocked. At present, he just planned to find a bending and detouring path to reach the top, but unfortunately boulders also existed at the end of the path, then where was the way?

The meaning between lines referred to the fact that each stroke in the middle and the one thereafter illustrated the mental state and the thought of the writer on the spot. Every single word in this messy script was illogical, which was because the real meaning was sunken in fuzzy ink and blurred. However, the copy from the Divine Talisman Master Yan Se had managed to release the original feeling imprisoned in the strokes no matter how powerful the shackle was. That feeling had permeated into the rosewood through wine and suffused the House of Red Sleeves with the flavor of wine…

On top of wine, Ning Que wrote down those words to Sangsang. Apparently, he just told her he would stay in the House of Red Sleeves the night, yet his true feeling disclosed only after all the hidden meanings diffused. Even he himself was unaware of this true feeling, or perhaps he was unwilling to admit it.

The courtyard in the west grew some plants of plum, where the girl Lu Xue was holding her vertical bamboo flute, sunk in silence. Sorrow crawled over her delicate face, who was longing for the vigorous Spring in her southern hometown at the sight of those faded plums in the corner.

And the courtyard in the east grew some clusters of bamboo, where the girl Dewdrop was gazing blankly at the twinkling stars reflected in the basin. Her crystal tears flowed down her plump and smooth face like a pearl, which plopped into the basin with a soft sound.

In the room at the top of the building, Mistress Jian stood quietly behind the bead curtain, staring at the portrait nearby her bed, with her smooth forehead crinkling into gills. Seeing the young scholar in the portrait, his familiar eyebrows stirred up and his cheerful or even arrogant laughter, she slowly shed tears. She then mumbled to complain, "Ke Haoran you d*mn boy, back then I cooked chicken soup for you every day, yet you didn't come. Then, you see, no soup at all even if you wanted to taste it now. Who knows, how is… everything going with you in the other world."

Suddenly the end of her brow tilted, and she was awakened from her complaint to rash a few steps to the rail and take a look at the courtyard downstairs. She was well aware of the status of that tall and thin Taoist in the courtyard of Dewdrop, yet showing not a hint of fear. She then scolded softly with a bit anger, "What's wrong with you guy! Why come to my brothel to arouse my memory of that scoundrel!"

In the courtyard under the bamboo shadows, Dewdrop sailed back to her room after washing her face and applying light make-ups, yet stood slightly stiffened when she saw the Taoist swinging around. She then stepped ahead to take a look and doubted with eyebrows frowned, "Master, I always felt I had caught the smell of chicken soup, why?"

"Not the smell of chicken soup, but of home."

The Divine Talisman Master Yan Se pointed at the twenty-nine messy words on the accounting paper, saying with a wave of his head, "When this man wrote the memo, he was eager to drink the chicken soup back home. But it does not mean the soup is tasty, instead, I am just wondering, what Sangsang is like. Is she a ferocious wife or a strict mother? How can she drive him in such a way."

"This memo… is that the one written by Ning Que?" The delicate and exquisite face of Dewdrop was filled with confusion, "He didn't show any intention to go back home back then, and Sangsang is not his wife, but… only a young handmaiden of his."

"Young handmaiden? Even less logical."

The Divine Talisman Master Yan Se shook his head and got rid of the affair. He remained unmarried up to now because he has witnessed numerous ferocious wives in Tang Empire, especially in Chang'an. So he preferred to linger through brothels to taste different girls. That's why he couldn't figure out what attraction that a young handmaiden and a bowl of chicken soup had.

The next morning, that tall and thin Taoist left in a horse carriage, without inquiring what Ning Que, the one that has written the twenty-nine messy words, was like. After a short while, Dewdrop approached, yawning and rubbing her sleepy eyes. Those feelings last night had all escaped from her mind, who then took the warm tea handed over by the maidservant to sip and subconsciously glimpsed over the table, only to find that ragged memo paper has somehow disappeared. As for the twenty-nine messy words that Taoist copied last night on the rosewood table with wine, they dried and vanished even sooner.

She waved her head with a smile and put down her teacup, during which the green jade bracelet slightly knocked the rosewood table, yet unexpectedly, with the gentle sound aroused, a part of tiny paint powder was shaken off the table.

Dewdrop was somewhat shocked and gazed curiously in the direction. After a moment of hesitation, she pulled out her handkerchief to softly wipe down the powder, unexpectedly to see a line of completely messy words under those red paint powders. The traces of those words seemed to be shallow but were actually carved deep into the wood which could not be wiped off at all. How penetrating they were!

"Sangsang, I, your young master, am drunk today and won't come back to sleep, so you must remember to drink the stewed chicken soup left in the pot."

Dewdrop goggled at those words fiercely, vaguely realizing something. She had no idea that the tall and thin Taoist was a Divine Talisman Master in legends, nor could she predict what big achievement Ning Que might acquire in the future. But she was clear this Taoist was not an ordinary one and wished sincerely that Ning Que had a good prospect. Most important of all, she was instinctively sensitive to opportunities after experiencing varieties of people in brothels for a long time, so she immediately ordered the maidservant to carefully put the table away and take good care of it. May it be used someday.

On the other hand, after Yan Se left the brothel, he stepped into a worn-out horse carriage and not a long time later, met a young Taoist with a yellow paper umbrella under his arm. The young Taoist greeted him with great respect, "Uncle, I've found the information you wanted. That man was named Ning Que and he has escorted the princess all the way… Lyu Qingchen has confirmed, he had no potential at all. The other days the Academy also tested him, but he failed even in course of magic skills."

The Divine Talisman Master sighed a pity. Although the lad had an intimate relationship with the princess, the fact that all his acupoints were blocked was in itself an extreme state. Shall I request the West-Hill Divine Palace to collect the power of Great Divine Priests to forcibly break his acupoints by imposing Grand Spiritism on him? It was hard to find a successor of fine Martial Arts of Talisman, and so scarcely I met one last night, who, however, was inborn deficient. What a pity!

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