Chapter Ninety-One: A Bowl of Mung Bean Soup on Minor Heat Day

Since that night when he walked out of the Colonel’s Mansion, Zhong Ming had never set foot in Wangxian City again. Yang Yanlang was right; the city was a den of dragons and tigers, a place to avoid whenever possible.

Zhong Ming’s life returned to its former tranquility. Every day, he would wake up to practice his saber techniques or discuss the subtleties of Daoist scriptures with Zhang Daozhen and his disciple. In the city, Yang Yanlang claimed to be suffering from an illness and never emerged from the Colonel’s Mansion.

The preachers from White Jade Capital had erected a platform for their sermons for seven consecutive days. Every morning, they would preach and offer guidance outside the crumbling wall of the South Gate. They had gathered many followers from both inside and outside the city, and a dense, shifting sea of people could be seen before the platform every day.

These peaceful days lasted until the arrival of the sweltering month of July. Today was the Minor Heat.

By the afternoon, the heat was suffocating. Even the most industrious villagers in Wuni Village were hiding indoors for a nap; in such hellish weather, no one cared to wander outside.

In the small fenced courtyard, Zhong Ming, Liang Yu, Zhang Daozhen, and Zhang Nianchen each took a small stool, sitting behind the wooden door to escape the sun. Zhong Ming held a bowl of mung bean soup, taking only a sip every few moments.

Today was the Minor Heat, and the frontier had long held the custom of observing it. Every household would boil a bowl of mung bean soup to drink, believing it would prevent the heat from penetrating the body and protect them from sunstroke throughout the summer. Since mung bean soup was naturally cooling, Zhong Ming had prepared some himself. He had even sent Liang Heizi to the city to buy half a cart of beans to distribute to every household in the village.

At this moment, Zhong Ming was somewhat distracted, his eyes fixed on a willow sprig in the corner of the courtyard.

This sprig had been taken from the old willow at the ruined temple in the west of the city. When the old willow died, this was the only living shoot left, and a grateful Zhong Ming had planted it in his yard. The willow possessed a tenacious vitality; over the past two months, not only had it survived, but it was growing vigorously every day, straining to stretch its branches and leaves. Yet, no matter how hardy the plant, it was impossible for a sprig to grow to half the height of a man in just a few days. It was no longer a sprig, but a young willow tree.

Ever since the day Yang Yanlang returned—the same day the Immortal Mountain appeared in Suiyun Mountain—the frontier had felt peculiar. Upon waking each morning, people felt exceptionally refreshed and clear-headed, their spirits lifted. Some of the village elders who had suffered from chronic ailments that caused joint pain during the rainy summer months had found that, despite the heavy rains these past two days, their symptoms had not flared up at all.

Rumors began to spread across the frontier: the immortals of White Jade Capital had performed a miracle, moving an immortal mountain from the heavens, and the entire frontier was reaping the benefits.

Zhong Ming stared at the young willow, frowning as he muttered, "It’s grown another two inches since yesterday. If this continues, it will engulf the house by next spring."

Hearing this, Zhang Nianchen glanced at the sapling and replied, "Brother Ming, I heard my master say that the immortal mountain in the range is a confluence of the frontier’s dragon vein and vital energy. Now that it has been driven from the earth to the peaks, its spiritual energy is diffusing, causing everything nearby to grow much faster. You needn't worry; in time, as the energy thins, it will return to normal."

Since their "life-borrowing" ordeal, Zhang Nianchen had grown much closer to Zhong Ming, and the two had long since begun addressing each other as brothers. Zhang Daozhen nodded from the side, slurping his mung bean soup loudly.

"In that case, those fellows from White Jade Capital have actually done a good deed," Zhong Ming remarked. He finished his soup in one gulp and handed the empty bowl to Liang Yu, asking him to refill it.

The old Daoist priest also finished his soup. He set his bowl down, shook his head, and sighed, "The dragon vein is the source of this land’s vital energy and fortune. Exposing it upon the vast earth is not a good thing. Once the spiritual energy dissipates, there will be serious trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Zhong Ming asked.

Zhang Daozhen continued to shake his head. "Hard to say. I cannot calculate it, and I have never seen it mentioned in ancient texts."

Good or bad, fate would decide. Zhong Ming stretched and stopped thinking about it; it was nothing he could control, and it was better to look after his own safety.

Liang Yu returned with the refilled bowl and handed it to Zhong Ming. "Brother Ming, when I went to deliver mung beans to the Colonel’s Mansion this morning, I saw Lord Yang practicing his spear techniques in the back courtyard. It was strange—he wasn't holding a weapon, but he was practicing with great intensity."

"Did my uncle have a blue aura around his hands, though it looked unstable?" Zhong Ming asked as he took a sip.

Liang Yu scratched his head, recalling, "It seemed so, though I can't quite remember."

"That must be it. My uncle’s cultivation has improved recently; he must be stabilizing his realm."

The city was rife with rumors that Yang Yanlang’s Silver Dragon Spear had been broken by an immortal from White Jade Capital and that he was bedridden with a severe illness. Only those close to him knew that Yang Yanlang wasn't truly ill; he was at home cultivating, stabilizing the Great Tiangang Realm of "Manifesting Form through Qi."

The breaking of his spear had indeed been a blow to Yang Yanlang, but only momentarily. Two days later, he had turned his grief and indignation into motivation, treating the fracture as a form of tempering. He had enshrined the broken spear in his ancestral hall, while he himself practiced the art of manifesting form through qi daily, striving to stabilize the realm and advance further. After fighting with Yutu, Yang Yanlang realized that his opponent was not invincible; it was just that defeating him required a higher level of martial attainment. If his elder brother, Qin Xiong, were here, he would likely be able to challenge Yutu, with the outcome hanging in the balance.

Hearing their conversation, Zhang Daozhen chuckled. "It seems General Yang has made great progress. The Great Tiangang Realm of manifesting form is something I could only achieve in my prime. The Earth-Queller Overlord Spear truly lives up to its name."

Zhang Nianchen added, "Master, if General Yang can manifest form through qi, wouldn't he be able to ascend the Tiangang Ranking?"

"Indeed. It seems the Earthly Fiend Ranking can no longer contain General Yang. Master Zhong, this is a good thing!"

Zhong Ming did not share their enthusiasm. He knew that with Yang Yanlang’s character, the greater his ability, the greater the responsibility he would feel, which only added to his worries.

After a long pause, Zhong Ming said calmly, "We will only know the result once it happens. A few days ago, news came from Manager Meng in the city: Master Guo traveled north to White Jade Capital to seek guidance, hoping to establish a 'Cloud Immortal Ranking.' Little did he know that White Jade Capital would be unreasonable and launch a lethal attack on him. The Master returned in defeat, severely wounded by the Fairy Echan, and his whereabouts are now unknown. I wonder if there will even be a Martial Arts Constellation Ranking next year."

Zhang Daozhen and his disciple were aware of this news. Zhang Nianchen shook his head. "Master Guo Dehang is a century-long legend of the martial arts world; it is impossible for him to have perished in the northern barbarian lands."

Zhang Daozhen added, "It is hard to say. When Guo Dehang went to White Jade Capital, he challenged the seven masters of the Twelve Towers one after another, all of whom were defeated by him. White Jade Capital lost significant face. It is understandable that Echan would resort to lethal force; they could never tolerate a mere mortal standing above them."

"May Master Guo be blessed by heaven."

With a sigh, Zhong Ming walked to the threshold with his bowl and gazed at the afternoon sky. Master Guo was not a bad man—at least not to him, as he had once offered him sound advice.

At some point, Zhong Ming had taken to staring blankly at the sky. In these moments of heavy, unspoken anxiety, looking up and sighing offered a way to release the pressure in his heart.

In the fenced courtyard, the shadows of the houses stretched eastward. The afternoon sun was no longer scorching enough to kill, and the villagers began to emerge one by one to go about their business.

An old horse pulled a dilapidated carriage into the village. A young physician with a radiant smile was driving it, hiding behind the curtains. The horse and carriage stopped in front of the small courtyard. Meng Teng climbed out and called out with a smile, "Is Master Zhong at home?"

Hearing this, Zhong Ming hurried out of the house. "Physician Meng, you’ve come. Please, come inside and sit."

In the past few days, Meng Teng had often brought news to Zhong Ming, and they were no longer as distant as they once were. He stepped inside, wiped the fine sweat from his brow, and said, "The sun is truly blistering today. With the hot season ahead, it won't be an easy time."

"The weather is getting hotter; it certainly won't be easy," Zhong Ming replied with a smile, asking Liang Yu to pour Meng Teng a bowl of mung bean soup.

Although Meng Teng said it wasn't necessary, his eyes remained fixed on the pot. On such a hot day, a bowl of mung bean soup was always welcome. After glancing at the soup, he didn't forget his purpose and pulled an envelope from his robes, handing it to Zhong Ming.

Ever since Zhong Ming had visited the Jishi Hall in the city, whenever there was major news concerning the frontier, Manager Meng would send Meng Teng to deliver a letter. It was a gesture of consideration following the death of Xu Qiandao, and Zhong Ming had grown accustomed to it.

He took the envelope and asked casually, "What has happened this time?"

Meng Teng’s smile vanished, and he whispered, "This morning, Li Jianye entered Luoyang City."

Zhong Ming’s smile froze instantly. He frowned slightly and tore open the letter.