Chapter 42: Gu Xiaoyao

Ma Yuan dashed out of the house and placed himself in front of Chongchong, full of righteous indignation and ready to sacrifice himself for love.

“Master! I know you’re a bit of a lecher and fond of slender waists! But you can’t bully Chongchong.”

Gu Yi nearly pulled a muscle at this fellow’s outrageous performance.

So now he was cast as the villain? And Ma Yuan was the hero rescuing the damsel?

Chongchong hid behind him, showing only half her face, sneaking peeks as quietly as a mouse.

“Don’t try your tricks on me—step aside,” Gu Yi said coldly.

“Master, get a hold of yourself. I actually think Little Waist Gu is pretty nice. I never noticed it before, but now that I look, your waist really is quite something.”

Chongchong bit her lip, stifling laughter. Yet, when her eyes met Gu Yi’s, she quickly lowered her head, her gaze darting about, trying to gauge his mood.

Gu Yi had no real intention of quarreling with her.

Ah, right—the invitation.

He and Ma Yuan noticed it at the same time. Being smaller, Ma Yuan was quicker and snatched it from the ground.

“Master, what does somewhere like the Hall of Pleasure want with you?” he asked.

Gu Yi wasn’t worried if Ma Yuan read it, nor did he fear his laughter. And indeed, once Ma Yuan finished, he burst out laughing, clutching his belly. “Master, you’re incredible! You’ve made quite a name for yourself. They’re inviting you to judge a contest of slender waists! Ha!”

Perhaps because rivals often spur each other on, thanks to Gu Yi, the Pavilion of Inviting the Moon was suddenly the talk of the town, and Xie Yiyi was dubbed “Xie Ten Gold,” making her the center of all conversation.

The other courtesans were not to be outdone. They wrote letters inviting Gu Yi, determined to see whose waist was truly the slimmest, Xie Yiyi’s or their own.

Gu Yi found the whole thing amusing and dismissed it with a laugh.

But he couldn’t help sighing, “On Tianmu Street, all I hear are rumors of war about to break out between Xu and Li. Yet on Changning Street, it’s all about pleasure and frivolity. The warm breeze intoxicates the revelers, and it feels as if Hangzhou is becoming Bianzhou.”

“So, you’re not going?” Ma Yuan asked, puzzled. “Little Yiyi frequents those places, and you’re looking for him.”

“Sir Ma, what are you implying?” Miss Ye entered the courtyard just then, likely having overheard him, and now regarded him with suspicion.

Gu Yi, quick as ever, acted the part and gave Ma Yuan a kick. “See? You’re leading me astray! How could a man as upright as I am possibly go to a place like that? Are you insulting me?”

Ma Yuan: (￢_￢)???

Behind Miss Ye, a group of women suddenly appeared, each holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Rumor has it that Miss Ye’s brother triumphed over the steward because of those four boatloads of flowers. Since flowers can make one stronger, I had more prepared—not just for the Literary Courtyard, but all around outside as well.”

Miss Ye meant well, and she was clever about it.

“Just… place them outside the Literary Courtyard. I’m a man living here; having so many flowers around just doesn’t feel right.”

Miss Ye waved her hand, and the women retreated.

Unable to withstand her gaze, Ma Yuan meekly handed her the invitation.

Unexpectedly, Miss Ye chuckled too when she read it.

“Little Waist Gu? These people do love to make mischief.” Then, with hidden meaning, she said to Gu Yi, “But it’s perfectly normal for a young man your age. Still, it’d be best not to visit Changning Street… Chongchong, don’t you agree?”

Chongchong: ???

She looked up abruptly, genuinely frightened, and hurried to hide behind Ma Yuan, clutching his clothes and sneaking glances at Gu Yi.

This was the pinnacle of Ma Yuan’s life.

“Chongchong, come over here.”

The little girl, deciding it was best to stay hidden, buried her entire face against Ma Yuan’s back.

Miss Ye couldn’t help but laugh and cry at once. This silly girl—if you’re going to hide, doing so behind Ma Yuan is like a lamb seeking shelter with a tiger.

“Chongchong? Not listening to me anymore?”

With that, Chongchong sidled over to Miss Ye’s side.

Miss Ye leaned down and whispered something in Chongchong’s ear, and the girl’s gaze toward Ma Yuan instantly changed.

“All right, remember what I told you. Go to the young master’s side; it’s fine.” Miss Ye pried open Chongchong’s tightly clenched fist and added, “The flowers have been delivered, so I’ll be going now. Do you still want the invitation?”

Gu Yi straightened his waist, “No, of course not. I would never go to such a place.”

“Very well, I’ll take it then.” Once she left, Gu Yi glared at Ma Yuan, but the thick-skinned fellow was entirely unfazed.

“Heh, Master, that thing you showed me earlier—I didn’t quite understand it.”

So, the two of them went back inside.

The talisman was rather large, about the size of a sheet of writing paper, with symmetrical patterns on each side, resembling two crossed sword blades.

“It should be a spirit tool talisman,” Gu Yi identified. “Not hard to recognize, but as I’ve always said, everyone has their own style when it comes to drawing spiritual symbols. If you really want to know who wrote it, you’d look at both the content and the handwriting. And why would someone send it to me?”

Ma Yuan studied it closely, but it was completely unfamiliar. “Master, why don’t you teach me to write some spirit talismans? If I learn, maybe I’ll start to recognize them.”

He clearly wanted to learn, though he was embarrassed to admit it.

But Gu Yi had promised him before.

“Chongchong, Chongchong.”

“I’m here, I’m here,” the little girl answered, climbing up from the steps outside, as obedient as ever.

“Go fetch me two eggs.”

Ma Yuan was a little excited but tried to keep his cool.

“All right, I’ll go boil them now,” Chongchong replied, eager for a chance to slip away.

“Wait, not boiled—just raw eggs will do, and be quick about it. I need them urgently.”

Raw eggs?

Chongchong hesitated, “But I’m not allowed to take raw ones.”

“Why not?”

“Miss Ye doesn’t let us take ingredients as we please. If you want to eat, I can boil them and Sister Ming will allow it. But raw eggs aren’t for eating—if I take them, how will I explain it to Sister Ming?”

Gu Yi realized that, since Yuzhen Pavilion was a restaurant, ingredients were strictly managed.

“All right then, come here. Ma Yuan, I’ll use you and Chongchong to illustrate the essence of learning to draw talismans. You studied at the Cultivation Academy, do you remember?”

Ma Yuan scratched his head. Better not to answer.

“Chongchong, stand straight.” He reached out and tidied her bangs, arranging them neatly on either side of her face—adorable.

“When drawing talismans, you’re imitating patterns found in nature, and every stroke must be clear. Simply put, look at Chongchong—her nose is a nose, her eyes are eyes, she’s lovely. If you were the Creator, you’d be careful with every line, wouldn’t you?”

“Now look at yourself—your eyes aren’t really eyes, your brows aren’t really brows, and your mouth could compete with a hippopotamus. That’s much trickier.”

Ma Yuan: “…”

“Master, can you use a different example?”

“Stop whining and listen,” Gu Yi cut him off. “So, every person who creates a talisman takes inspiration from the world’s most perfect forms. Some masters draw talismans as chaotically as ghosts, but beginners have to be precise with every stroke. The one I’ll teach you in a moment, you’ll have to draw it stroke by stroke, just like Chongchong.”

“I get that, but when I draw, I can’t feel the essence of heaven and earth.”

“Then keep drawing until you do.”

The patterns of each talisman can be memorized quickly—like learning sword moves. Once you remember them, you can reproduce them. But to wield them effectively, you must grasp the underlying principles, or else you’re just copying for fun.

It’s like copying someone’s homework.

Just as two people may practice the same sword manual, they may comprehend sword intent to varying degrees and thus wield vastly different power.

The principle is the same.

“I’ll teach you a basic one—the Single-Stroke Cage Talisman. It’s a binding talisman.”

Gu Yi dipped his brush into ink and moved it slowly across the rice paper—just four strokes, twisting and turning to form a closed square.

Yet, supported by spiritual energy, it shimmered with faint white light, drawing gasps of admiration.

“I’ve never used the Single-Stroke Cage Talisman in battle—it’s basic, but the more strokes, the stronger. The one that trapped you last time was a Four-Stroke Cage Talisman.”

“That’s it?” Ma Yuan was dumbfounded.

“Its inspiration comes from a cage. In its simplicity lies its difficulty.”

The bald-headed youth suddenly doubted he would ever master this. All that “Master, Master”—was it all for nothing?

“Just like this, and you get a binding talisman?”

Chongchong watched in awe. “Young Master, I want to try!”

Gu Yi handed her the brush.

“Remember: steady force, firm strokes, no hesitation, and no mistakes.”

There’s a difference between people.

As soon as Chongchong set her brush to paper, a faint glow flashed; the black ink bloomed, trailed by soft light.

Ma Yuan: ???

“Master, this…”

“Still think I’m making things up?”

They were still at play when a young woman came to report from outside the Literary Courtyard. None of them were as lovely as Chongchong, so Gu Yi didn’t bother learning their names.

“What is it?”

“People from the Cultivation Academy are here to see the young master.”

-------------------------

They’ve come to see the young master—and to ask for recommendation tickets.