Chapter 48: Five Spirits Mountain, Senior Brother
Cen Song’s acceptance of a disciple was not only the talk of the entire Tianqing Kingdom, but also the subject of discussion among powers of every size in all neighboring nations. After all, the title of Master of the Five Spirits was renowned far beyond Tianqing. It was said that the fall of the Great Kang Dynasty could be attributed to Cen Song’s designs; had he not devised his schemes, the present chaos would never have come to pass. The era of heroes vying for supremacy by their own talents had thus been postponed.
“Master, is that the Five Spirits Mountain ahead?”
Before them rose a range of lofty peaks, at whose base lay a dense forest, strands of mist drifting out—a place that seemed nurturing to both body and soul.
“That is indeed the Five Spirits Mountain. You must keep close to me, for this mountain is shrouded in miasma throughout the year. Lose your way, and you may never find your way out~”
“I will certainly follow closely behind you,” replied the little child, obediently trailing the old man.
The elder stopped abruptly, his expression grave. “Before we enter the mountain, let me lay down a few rules.”
“Please instruct me, Master,” the child said, bowing respectfully, head lowered with humility.
Cen Song stroked his three-pronged beard, clearly pleased with the child’s manners and humility—he liked him all the more. “Those who enter my tutelage must not use their real names. After you have completed your studies, wherever you may work, you must never mention my name.”
“Master, then what should I be called?” The child tilted his head, puzzled. Not allowed to use his real name, and forbidden to mention his master? Was this a means of retreating from the world?
“Call yourself whatever you wish.” The old man flicked his sleeve and strode forward with steady steps.
Chu Junhan was surprised. Weren’t venerable scholars like him supposed to bestow a courtesy name upon their disciples? Truly, the more talented, the more eccentric!
“Master, may I be called Ruyan?”
“Why choose such a feminine name?” the elder asked, his stride steady as he pressed on up the mountain path.
“If my identity as your disciple must be hidden, then let it be concealed thoroughly.”
The old man murmured his assent, and spoke no further, continuing his steady advance.
At noon, the sun blazed overhead as the old and the young made their way through the woodland. Chu Junhan wiped the sweat from her brow and saw the terrain ahead opening up, revealing a scene of unexpected beauty and promise.
Not far off, several thatched cottages stood, smoke curling from their chimneys.
“Ruyan, we have arrived,” the elder said, pushing open the fence before the cottage and entering first.
As soon as they reached the center of the courtyard, a small boy about six or seven years old emerged from within, dressed in coarse linen, his face streaked with black marks, as if smeared with soot.
The boy threw himself at Cen Song, burying his little flower-streaked face in the old man’s arms, rubbing affectionately: “Master, you’re finally back! Mo’er missed you terribly.”
Cen Song smiled kindly, allowing the boy to rub against him as he pleased.
When the boy felt he had rubbed away most of the grime from his face, he lifted his head from Cen Song’s embrace, catching sight of Chu Junhan nearby and asked, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
“Come, let me introduce you,” Cen Song said, taking the boy’s hand and leading him over to Chu Junhan. “Mo’er, this is your junior brother Ruyan. You must take good care of him from now on.”
The boy snorted disdainfully, mocking, “What a girlish name! People might mistake him for my junior sister. I don’t want such a sissy junior brother.”
Chu Junhan stared silently at the little child before her, disbelief written all over her face. Was this ignorant brat really her senior?
She had assumed, judging by Cen Song’s age, that her senior brother would at least be approaching adulthood. Yet the one she was to look after turned out to be a genuine little child?