Chapter 88: Fully Prepared

When Yi An returned to Hangzhou, six days had already passed. Night had fallen, and as he gazed into the distance, a waning moon hung in the sky.

From afar, he saw Li Zhihe engaged in lively conversation with a woman. They appeared inseparable, at least in Yi An’s eyes. The woman seemed eager to press herself against Li Zhihe, longing for intimacy. Though she was over forty, her charm had not faded.

Yi An did not interrupt them, preferring to observe in silence. He wondered what they might be discussing, his curiosity piqued. Only when the woman reluctantly took her leave did Yi An approach, grinning, “An old flame of yours, I presume.”

It was as if he had discovered a new world; Li Zhihe had always kept his distance from women, and Yi An had assumed he simply had no interest. Now it seemed he merely had unusual tastes, too embarrassed to admit them.

Yet Yi An meant no ridicule—after all, tastes vary from person to person.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Li Zhihe denied flatly, the smile on his face freezing. His hand, extended in greeting, hung awkwardly in midair.

“There’s nothing shameful in it. Why hide it? I wouldn’t mock you,” Yi An replied, skeptical.

“That woman was here to see you, not me. I don’t even know her,” Li Zhihe protested, helpless. Blame that troublesome woman; she was impossible to shake off, neither to be struck nor scolded, clinging like a stubborn plaster. Now, Yi An had misunderstood the situation, leaving Li Zhihe feeling conflicted.

Yi An was speechless. If you won’t admit it, fine, but why shift the blame onto him?

“You may not believe it, but she’s the sixth to come since you left. If nothing changes, more will surely arrive in the days to come, seeking you out,” Li Zhihe said, his tone suggestive.

Yi An was baffled.

Yi An was utterly confused. How had those women become associated with him, and what did they want? Only after Li Zhihe explained did Yi An realize that all the women who had come were matchmakers from Hangzhou.

Since Yi An had achieved top marks in the provincial exam, matchmakers had flocked to propose marriage, undeterred even by the fact that this was Wei Liang’s residence. They were mere matchmakers, not officials, so no matter Wei Liang’s influence, he could not control them.

Besides, if Wei Liang were to stoop to their level, it would be beneath his dignity. Thus, the women barged in confidently, returning time and again with proposals.

Over these days, Li Zhihe had been endlessly troubled, forced to spar with the matchmakers in a battle of wits and patience—a true test of his temperament.

“The old Daoist didn’t return with you?” Li Zhihe had sensed something was amiss. Now he realized Yi An had left with Xuan Yangzi, but returned alone.

“The master has had a recent revelation and is now secluded in deep meditation. We likely won’t see him for some time,” Yi An explained.

If all went well, next time they met, Xuan Yangzi would have broken through to the Day Wandering stage. Perhaps the pressure brought by Shen Baiyu had driven Xuan Yangzi’s sense of urgency.

Indeed, Xuan Yangzi had been diligently cultivating the method Yi An had imparted for strengthening the soul. Yi An’s guidance was instrumental in Xuan Yangzi’s rapid progress.

“So that’s how it is,” Li Zhihe nodded, thoughtful. He did not press further; after all, he had only asked out of curiosity and knew little about Xuan Yangzi.

Li Zhihe knew nothing of the Daoist arts.

Mentioning cultivation, however, caused Li Zhihe to feel a pang of regret. He had worked hard these days, making significant progress, but still had no clue about the innate stage, unable to grasp its essence.

Yi An’s lips curled into a smile. “Brother Li, I’ll leave dealing with those matchmakers to you.”

Li Zhihe was momentarily stunned and tried to object, but Yi An had already vanished, leaving only a long sigh behind.

...

In the days that followed, Yi An’s life finally returned to tranquility. He continued to consolidate his true energy, preparing diligently for the next stage, while also immersing himself in study.

As the ancients wisely said, reviewing the old leads to new understanding. Yi An took no pride in his recent achievements, refusing to rest on his laurels.

The classics were wondrous indeed; each new insight brought a different realm of meaning, mysterious and profound. Yi An could not help but admire the wisdom of the sages of old.

One day, Wei Liang brought him a set of new review notes.

Wei Liang had not been idle either, taking time to compile the key points that required thorough memorization.

The metropolitan exam was fast approaching. Though Yi An had made his mark in the provincial exam, luck had played a considerable part.

The next day, Li Zhihe came to Yi An, announcing that the famous Drunken Flower Pavilion had emptied overnight—everyone vanished, whereabouts unknown. The departure of Lady Hong Ying had broken the hearts of many scholars.

Yi An merely smiled knowingly. Shen Baiyu was not of this world; she had established the Drunken Flower Pavilion solely to seek the reincarnation of Li Qingshan. Now that her purpose was fulfilled, there was no reason to keep the pavilion open.

Hangzhou at last returned to its tranquil state.

Yi An spent a full month studying Wei Liang’s notes, absorbing and mastering them completely.

He did not neglect his cultivation either. The lingering medicinal strength from the previous elixir had finally been resolved. That night, he prepared to take the final step—the critical step of the Returning Origin stage.

Once the true energy was strong enough, it could nourish the soul like a protective shield. When the soul left the body, it would remain unshaken by external forces. If laying the foundation was to establish one's base, then Returning Origin was to establish the soul’s foundation. If an ordinary soul left the body, even a gust of wind could disperse it—at best severely injured, at worst utterly destroyed. Only a soul of sufficient strength could remain steady, like Mount Tai.

Although Yi An believed his soul was much stronger than common cultivators, he dared not grow complacent.