Chapter 74: Old Wu Curses in the Street
The invitation from Princess Taiping—what an irresistible temptation. To say nothing of anything else, consider simply this woman's potential: whether under the Wu Zhou dynasty or the reign of Li Xian, she could be described as one who could cover the sky with a single hand. By all rights, this was not an invitation Wu Ning should refuse.
This was not merely a matter of saving years of struggle—it was an opportunity to reach a height that lifelong scheming might never attain, a height perhaps not even comparable to that offered by Taiping’s single gesture.
Yet Wu Ning hesitated. Moreover, with just a single remark from Daoist Xiao, his hesitation vanished, replaced by a firm refusal.
Because there was something unnatural at play.
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Did anyone truly believe Wu Ning was a brash youth, letting himself appear so shallow and self-satisfied before Princess Taiping? They were mistaken; this scoundrel was more calculating than anyone, thought deeper than anyone. Having lived two lives, he was more patient than all. His apparent disrespectful attitude toward Taiping was entirely deliberate.
Elsewhere, before the Old Ancestor or in front of his fourth uncle Wu Changlu, would he ever behave so? Would a single retort from him nearly cause someone to explode with rage? Even facing Sun Hongde, Wu Ning presented himself with more dignity than he did before Taiping.
Why, then, did he change only when facing Taiping? Why did he deliberately needle her with sly remarks?
The answer was—his Ugly Uncle.
The closer he came to those at the heart of power, the more Wu Ning realized his uncle’s teachings on human nature and power were laden with hidden meaning, and the more unsettled he became. By now, he felt certain his uncle’s past was extraordinary, concealing some earth-shattering secret.
Yet ever since that rescue at the ferry five years ago, every experience Wu Ning had seemed bottomless, impenetrable. Each day he tried to guess at his uncle’s secret, only for forthcoming events to shatter his assumptions, and that secret grew ever heavier in his heart.
Until he could uncover that secret, Wu Ning would not dare plunge into the murky waters of court intrigue. Otherwise, he might not even know how he’d meet his end.
Thus, he intentionally exposed his flaws before Taiping, wanting her to see that while Wu Ning was talented, he was far too shallow to be of use—hoping she would spare him from her invitation.
What he didn’t expect was that this foolish woman would extend her offer anyway, and the terms were almost impossible to refuse.
Taiping’s offer was not for Wu Ning to join her household as an adviser, nor was it a vague promise of future rewards—she offered him a direct path to officialdom.
Such temptation was overwhelming. Look at all the so-called talented and virtuous men gathered in Fangzhou city—what did they seek? Was it not just such a promise?
Yet in that moment when Wu Ning was nearly swayed, Daoist Xiao unwittingly sabotaged everything, causing Wu Ning to banish the idea entirely.
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Watching Princess Taiping’s carriage descend the mountain, Wu Ning stood before the gate, hands clasped behind his back. Without turning, he asked coldly, “Why?”
Daoist Xiao’s heart skipped. “Why what?”
Wu Ning turned and stared him in the eye. “Why do you want me to go to the capital and become an official? Haven’t you always wanted me to join the sect and inherit your teachings?”
“Well…” Daoist Xiao’s gaze drifted. “I do wish to take you as a disciple.”
“But—but isn’t this a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? I couldn’t very well stand in the way of your future, could I?”
“Is that so?” Wu Ning leaned in close. “Are you really so selfless? Why can’t I bring myself to believe you?”
Daoist Xiao could not answer.
“Then why did you have me help Taiping out of her predicament?”
At this, Wu Ning laughed bitterly. “A princess of the great Tang, and a peasant from the countryside—don’t you think the difference is a bit too much?”
“This…”
“You don’t need to answer!” Wu Ning cut him off. “You wouldn’t answer even if you could.”
He glared at Daoist Xiao, then at Meng Cangsheng. “Whatever filth you’re hiding behind my back, until I get to the bottom of it, I won’t do as you wish and plunge into that cesspit.”
Daoist Xiao finally broke his silence, barking coldly, “It’s not filth—it’s your fate!”
“Master!” Meng Cangsheng quickly tried to stop him. He said sincerely, “Some things are not for us to tell him.”
“Then who will?” Wu Ning retorted. “My uncle, perhaps? Or will I wait until the truth can no longer be hidden and someone comes with a knife to tell me?”
He gave a bitter laugh, then abruptly demanded, “Where did my uncle get the scar on his face? Did he carve it himself, or was it an enemy’s blade? Why did he save Li Xian five years ago? Why did he spare Qiu Shenji? Why did you have me unravel the Li and Wu family’s scheme today? Do you really think I’m a naïve fifteen-year-old who knows nothing?”
By now Wu Ning was shouting, “Let me tell you—you’re playing with fire! Sooner or later, we’ll all die together!”
With that, he could not be bothered to argue further with the two Daoists. He turned and strode down the mountain, not sparing a glance at master or disciple.
As he walked, he cursed aloud:
“A bunch of self-important fools! Two fugitives trying to poke a hole in the sky—the first to be crushed will be themselves.”
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“Damn it! I’ll just hole up in this mountain hollow and go nowhere. Let’s see how desperate you all get!”
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“Old Wu! Fat Tiger! You two idiots—are you still messing around? That cost me a fortune!”
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“I think…” Daoist Xiao stood dazed before the gate, watching Wu Ning’s hysterical descent. “Perhaps it’s time we told him everything.”
Beside him, Meng Cangsheng shook his head. “No, not yet. He’s capable, but his heart isn’t ready.”
“Heh.” Daoist Xiao gave a hollow laugh, glancing down the mountainside with double meaning.
“Not ready? But someone else can’t wait any longer.”
With that, the old Daoist clasped his hands behind his back and slipped away, leaving Meng Cangsheng puzzled in place. Who couldn’t wait?
Wu Ning’s Ugly Uncle?
Instinctively following his master’s gaze, Meng Cangsheng looked and was shocked.
“He’s lost his mind!”
Princess Taiping’s carriage had not gone directly down the mountain but stopped halfway. At that moment, Taiping had stepped out and was walking slowly into Xuncui Residence.
Slapping his thigh, Meng exclaimed, “How could he be so reckless!”
...
Wu Ning, too, saw the princess enter his home. He wondered why she would go there—they were hardly close enough for casual visits.
When Taiping had asked what his family did, Wu Ning had replied that they ran an inn.
She had no idea the inn was actually his.
Could it be Wu Sansi?
His fourth uncle had once mentioned that Wu Sansi had spoken at a banquet about wanting to see Wu Ning’s place.
But that didn’t make sense either; Wu Sansi had only formed a secret pact with Taiping today. Their relationship was nowhere near the point of sharing such matters.
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Wu Ning hesitated—should he even go home?
Forget it. Best to avoid that woman if possible.
He veered off, hiding out at the charcoal kiln.
He stayed there until nightfall, until even Wu Third Brother was puzzled. “Why are you hanging around here instead of going home?”
Wu Ning replied, “There’s a calamity at home.”
“How long do you plan to hide?”
“It’s fine; I’ll go back now.”
He figured it was late enough—surely that woman wouldn’t be staying at his house.
But, unexpectedly, she had actually stayed the night.
At that moment, Princess Taiping, sipping fruit yogurt, said to the chief steward of the princess’s household beside her, “It’s stifling in those official lodgings. This humble village inn that Steward Chen recommended is actually quite elegant.”
Perhaps now that she had resolved her troubles, Taiping was in high spirits. Pointing at the yogurt, she added, “This sour milk is quite good—unavailable in the capital. Have the staff bring a bowl for each attendant and guard.”
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