Chapter 145: Within Books Lie Faces Like Jade

Chapter 145: There are Beauties Like Jade in Books

Matters regarding military campaigns and battles naturally did not require a Rank-Huang Demon Slaying Emissary to worry about. Since there were higher-ups in charge, those below only needed to await orders in place regarding the specific deployments.

After everyone dispersed, only four people remained in the courtyard: Master Lu, the sword cultivator A-Fei, He Chang'an, and the demon youth Lang Fei.

A-Fei, unable to stay idle, carried a bamboo sword, poking here and pointing there. His ordinary-looking face maintained a strange smile throughout, as if he were contemplating some pleasant matter.

The elderly scholar, cradling a purple-skinned gourd, kept a scroll inseparable from his hands. He smacked his lips with relish, smilingly remarking that using books to accompany wine was the best way to resolve any confusion.

He Chang'an was half-skeptical about this statement, yet he never voiced his doubts aloud, simply choosing to believe it for the sake of peace.

He had originally wanted to practice his boxing, but with the sword cultivator A-Fei present—who would likely stand on the sidelines picking faults and casting sideways glances—his boxing routine would not flow smoothly. Therefore, he turned over the pages of "Distant Sword Qi" in his room until drowsiness gradually overcame him, and he simply lay down to sleep.

Lang Fei hid in the kitchen, daring not to show his face at all, except for twice when nature called so urgently that he had to sneak out to the latrine.

The elderly scholar was one thing; he looked just like an ordinary elderly human. However, the middle-aged man who wielded the sword possessed an aura of killing intent so oppressive that it left Lang Fei struggling to breathe.

He had a distinct feeling that if that sword cultivator were merely to glance at him, he, the descendant of the Heavenly Wolf, would perish utterly, leaving not even a wisp of soul behind.

……

He Chang'an slept until dusk, and feeling a hunger in his stomach, he intended to invite Master Lu and the sword cultivator A-Fei out for a meal. To his surprise, the two had already arranged a table of food and wine, sitting there eating and drinking heartily amidst a scene of utter mess.

Both men were somewhat intoxicated. Seeing He Chang'an wake up, they hurriedly beckoned him over, demanding that he act as an impartial judge to decide whether studying books or brandishing swords was superior.

He Chang'an sat upright and pondered for a long while before saying, "Both are good."

The two experts found this answer uninteresting, waved their hands to dismiss him so he could go eat by himself, displaying a unanimous disdain.

He Chang'an cupped his fists, turned, and went out, walking idly through the city of Dasan Pass. Before he knew it, he arrived at the bookstore he had noticed earlier that morning.

The owner of the bookstore, a down-and-out scholar, sat with a dignified posture behind an old desk. With one hand holding a writing brush and the other gripping a scroll, he shook his head and chanted softly, practicing a cursive script copy of Wang Youjun's "Sanluan Post."

When He Chang'an entered, the scholar paid him no heed, continuing to copy the text by himself with an expression of deep sorrow and nostalgia.

He Chang'an had no choice but to browse through the two crude bookshelves on his own.

The bookstore mostly contained introductory Confucian texts, interspersed with a few volumes of Taoist/immortal tales and strange anomalies, traveler's notes from various dynasties, and a few "martial arts manuals."

He Chang'an picked up a book titled "Introduction to Sword Qi" and flipped through it. It turned out to be a set of insights on sword practice written by a martial artist from the jianghu.

The creator of the swordsmanship in the book claimed to have practiced the sword for thirty years before finally grasping the true essence of sword qi. For the sake of all living beings in the world, he had spared no effort to print and publish the fruits of his decades of painstaking effort, which could be considered contributing a brick and tile to the Great Tang martial arts world.

He Chang'an turned the pages one by one and found a particular line very much to his liking: "Everyone goes off to cultivate immortality, yet who wields the demon-slaying sword?" He could not help sighing with emotion that regardless of how proficient this senior martial artist's swordsmanship might be, this sheer spirit of chivalry alone was enough to put a vast number of high-and-mighty figures to shame.

Everyone goes off to cultivate immortality, yet who wields the demon-slaying sword?

He Chang'an silently repeated these words in his mind, finding himself momentarily lost in thought.

"What, can this set of swordsmanship catch your discerning eye?" Unbeknownst when, the down-and-out scholar had appeared behind He Chang'an, leaving him completely unaware.

He Chang'an felt a secret jolt of surprise internally, though his face remained entirely expressionless. With a smile, he said, "I didn't quite understand the swordsmanship, but one of the lines written in it is exceptionally good."

" 'Everyone goes off to cultivate immortality, yet who wields the demon-slaying sword?' Those words are truly wonderful; I like them very much."

The down-and-out scholar burst into loud laughter, walked back to his desk, picked up a writing brush, and resumed tracing characters in the air.

This time, it was Wang Youjun's "Huangting Sutra," elegant and harmonious, yet losing none of its agility and charm.

Of course, He Chang'an did not understand calligraphy.

He merely found the scholar's brushwork interesting and lively, resembling a small flying sword flickering in and out of view in mid-air, quite a sight to behold.

Truly, the jianghu abounded with eccentric figures.

He would never have expected that in a border city like Dasan Pass, even a casual small bookstore would be a crouching tiger, hidden dragon, where he could encounter such a master.

After finishing the "Huangting Sutra," the down-and-out scholar still felt unsatisfied. He reached out to grab the wine flask on the desk, only to find it entirely empty, prompting him to shake his head and smile bitterly:

"To be unable to accompany books with wine is truly a regrettable matter."

He Chang'an unhooked the wine gourd from his waist and silently handed it forward.

The down-and-out scholar, however, did not take it. With a carefree smile, he said, "The passion has passed, and the wine is no longer fragrant."

"Still, I thank you."

Having said that, the down-and-out scholar actually bowed deeply in a salute, which caught He Chang'an completely off guard. He hurriedly returned the salute, repeatedly claiming he did not deserve such courtesy.

The down-and-out scholar straightened up, scrutinized He Chang'an carefully, retrieved a yellowed ancient volume from his bosom, and handed it to him. "I entrust you with delivering a book to someone. This scholar offers his advance thanks."

He Chang'an took the book courteously, but upon glancing at its title and cover, his expression turned peculiar.

"It's actually a book of boudoir secrets..."

The down-and-out scholar burst into hearty laughter, pointed at the book, and said with a serious expression, "Do not underestimate such leisure reading; there are those who cherish it dearly."

"This book... who is it for?" He Chang'an asked hesitantly.

To be honest, delivering such a "book of pure romance" on someone else's behalf meant that once the recipient questioned it, he would be unable to clear his name even with a hundred mouths.

"Give it to A-Fei," the down-and-out scholar said with a chuckle. "Aside from him, who else would fancy this sort of book?"

"Do not underestimate this volume. I spent a full one hundred and fifty taels of silver to trick it out of an old Daoist priest. If you asked me to estimate its value, it's at least worth this much."

The down-and-out scholar extended one hand, slowly spreading his five fingers, smiling without a word.

"Five hundred taels?" He Chang'an was startled. Was this little erotic novel really worth that much?

"Five hundred taels? The only boudoir books you can buy for five hundred taels are the ones those old emperors flip through," the down-and-out scholar scoffed disdainfully, adding, "For a book given to A-Fei, if it's valued at less than five thousand taels, can it even be considered a book?"

He Chang'an gazed at the scholar's exceptionally refined face and felt a strange, ghost-like sensation creeping over him.

He had seen plenty of scholars in the Great Tang, but ones who could speak with such brazen confidence and spout nonsense without missing a beat... well, there were quite a few others.

So be it. Since conversation was futile, he might as well just head back.

He Chang'an tucked away the "book of pure romance," cupped his fists in farewell, and prepared to return.

The scholar seemed to recall something else. He grabbed He Chang'an's arm and asked in a low voice, "Is Master Lu's health well?"

He Chang'an nodded and replied warmly, "Master Lu is doing very well."

"He eats and sleeps with great relish, and drinking wine while reading books is even more delightful."

The down-and-out scholar released He Chang'an's arm, momentarily dazed. He stood there blankly, muttering to himself, "That's good, that's good..."