Chapter 40: Lotus Blooms with Every Step
Unlike Ji Xiao or the Guiqing Zhenren from Mingyue Lake, Hu Si was not at all like a saint.
The very first words he spoke to the cultivation world after attaining sainthood were no different from a commoner pushing open a street-side window and hollering a greeting to their neighbor.
Meng Xueli felt an overwhelming urge to leave but forced himself to stay.
The murky cloudship remained silent for a long time. People lifted their heads, gazing at the “red cloud” overhead—the crimson treasure ship of the Great Tianhu Realm’s lord.
Suddenly, a fresh breeze descended from the sky, scattering the dust and clearing the heavens in an instant.
With their vision finally unobstructed, Meng Xueli looked down past the myriad flying vessels in the air, taking in the vast, undulating dunes and the endless Gobi Desert. Hanhai lived up to its reputation.
A murmur of astonishment rippled through the crowd. From the side of the crimson ship, several strands of white silk unfurled, and two slender figures gracefully descended, drifting like celestial maidens from the heavens, moving with the wind as they approached Han Shan’s cloudship.
The two stunning women were favored consorts of the Master of Tianhu Lake. The one in blue was named Chunshui, while the one in green was named Qiuguang.
Chunshui was gentle and serene, while Qiuguang was bright and lively. To outsiders, they looked like divine consorts, embodying elegance and charm. The Realm Master possessed both, embracing one in each arm—how could he not be pleased?
Meng Xueli, however, couldn’t help but think that with Hu Si’s preference for deep red inner robes, the three of them together—one red, one green, one blue—must make for a rather garish sight.
The two women landed on the deck, their gazes unwavering as they walked straight toward Meng Xueli.
“The Realm Master invites Elder Meng aboard for a private conversation.”
Ziyan Peak Master stepped forward, positioning herself slightly in front of Meng Xueli. “Fairies, may I ask what urgent matter the Realm Master wishes to discuss?”
Blocking their way like this could be seen as disrespectful, but in front of so many witnesses, no one could simply take away a disciple of Han Shan without a proper explanation.
Chunshui remained silent, but the more outspoken Qiuguang spoke up loudly:
“Of course, it’s an important matter. Before the Sword Sovereign passed away, he left a gift for his young Dao companion—a pair of enchanted artifacts. One is called ‘Weary of Rain,’ and the other, ‘Tired of Wind.’ Elder Meng, you must know of them…”
Her voice rang out, crisp and clear, carrying across the distance. Before the stunned Meng Xueli could even say, “I don’t know,” she had already continued:
“This matter is of great importance. Please come aboard so we can discuss it.”
The expressions of those around them varied.
Meng Xueli furrowed his brows slightly. *What ‘Weary of Rain’ and ‘Tired of Wind’?* Weren’t the Sword Sovereign’s gifts the ‘Hundred Generations of Time’ stored at in Hengtong Juyuan? How did they end up in Hu Si’s hands?
He said, “I can’t ride a sword; I won’t be able to get up there.”
At the moment, this altitude was the highest Han Shan’s cloudship could reach.
Laughter echoed down from the sky.
A large red lotus bloomed at Meng Xueli’s feet, its layered petals unfurling like a cluster of flickering flames.
All eyes were fixed on the scene. A mere thought had conjured something from thin air—this was the divine ability of a Saint.
Meng Xueli stepped forward, and another lotus blossomed beneath him. With each step, a new red lotus bloomed ahead, while the old ones withered behind him, forming a staircase that carried him all the way into the clouds.
Everyone was astonished. A divine ability of this caliber, used for such a purpose? But then again, Master of Tianhu Lake was precisely the kind of person who would do such a thing.
Some wondered—was Meng Xueli not concerned that such an extravagant display might be too much for him to bear, diminishing his fortune?
Meng Xueli, however, was more concerned about what would happen if Hu Si suddenly withdrew his power, leaving him to plummet from this height. How would he adjust his posture mid-air to land safely?
The vermilion treasure ship gleamed like the rising sun, wreathed in mist and radiant clouds, a breathtakingly beautiful sight.
Chunshui and Qiuguang flew to his sides, guiding him onto the ship.
The ship was vast, its interior lined with spatial formations, making it as expansive as a courtyard. Meng Xueli followed the two through corridors and staircases until they arrived at a quiet chamber.
The air inside was thick with fragrant smoke—not the usual sandalwood incense cultivators used for meditation, but something richer and more exotic, like the midnight bloom of a ghostly orchid. Walking across the cool bamboo mats, weaving past layers of gauzy curtains, they finally reached Hu Si.
The Master of Tianhu Lake sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion before a tea set, draped in a simple robe for receiving guests. He brewed tea with an air of calm and leisure, as if he were about to enter a state of deep enlightenment at any moment.
He looked nothing like the reckless, unrestrained figure he had been just moments ago.
The two beauties silently withdrew.
Meng Xueli offered a slight bow. “Greetings, Realm Master.”
Hu Si raised his hand. “Sit.”
The moment Meng Xueli took his seat, he asked, “May I ask what ‘Weary of Rain’ and ‘Tired of Wind’ are?”
Hu Si seemed to have anticipated this direct question. He chuckled lazily. “No rush. Have some tea first.”
Meng Xueli drank. The tea tasted sweet, like spring water from a spiritual spring, but carried a faintly bitter aftertaste.
Hu Si said, “You should be back at Changchun Peak feeding the fish. What are you doing here? There are no peach blossoms in the desert.”
Meng Xueli smiled. “Everyone knows I came here to win the grand competition. My bond with my Dao companion runs deep, so naturally, I must strive to claim his relics. Even if the odds are against me, I have to fight for them.”
Hu Si shook his head. “You can fool others with that, but not me. I’m not one of those fools in Han Shan’s ancestral shrine.”
At the memorial ceremony for Ji Xiao Zhenren, his widow had openly wept over his spirit tablet, his sorrow moving all who witnessed it.
Meng Xueli struggled to maintain his composure, but his sharp edge inevitably showed. “Why would I lie? If not for this, what other reason could I have?”
Ji Xiao had once sought medicine for him—alchemy refined by Hu Si himself. Given Meng Xueli’s nature of repaying kindness, he should have been filled with gratitude toward Hu Si. Yet, deep down, he had always harbored a hint of caution.
When he first met Hu Si, he had still been in his demonic form. Beasts possessed a keen instinct for danger.
Hu Si had once told Ji Xiao, *A demon is a demon. Their wild nature is difficult to tame. You shouldn’t entangle yourself in karmic ties with this creature.*
And so, Meng Xueli had deliberately acted tame, swearing loyalty to Ji Xiao time and time again.
Hu Si had dismissed him as putting on a show, a temporary act of obedience. So Meng Xueli had spent three years cultivating unwavering patience, ensuring Ji Xiao could see his sincerity.
But just as birds and beasts in the wilderness gradually adopt their protective colors, over time, a disguise becomes one’s true self.
Only in the presence of old friends, such as Que Xianming, did he reveal glimpses of his true nature.
“Not a lie?” Hu Si wasn’t offended by his impertinence. Instead, he chuckled as if hearing an amusing joke. “A deep and devoted love? How long have you even known Ji Xiao? You don’t understand him. I’ve known him for over two hundred years…”
The Realm Master spoke slowly. “An infinite sky, an eternal Changchun Peak—he was always at odds with things that claim to be eternal. Like the heavens. Like time itself. A man that arrogant, he could only ever love his own shadow. Where would he find room for a deep and devoted love?”
Hearing him call Ji Xiao arrogant, Meng Xueli couldn’t help but feel irritated. He let out a cold laugh. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Ji Xiao just happened to like me. I used to be a demon, after all. And demons are masters at bewitching hearts. He was enchanted by me. We were inseparable, indulging in pleasure night after night… But matters between Dao companions aren’t meant to be discussed with outsiders.”
Hu Si’s amusement deepened, rippling through his gaze like waves on water. Meng Xueli suddenly had a bad feeling.
Hu Si leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as he murmured into his ear:
“Seems Ji Xiao never told you—I’m a master of the Dao of Romance. One glance at you, and I can tell… your *primordial yang* remains intact. You’ve never experienced intimacy.”
Before his words had even fully landed, Meng Xueli’s expression changed dramatically. He shot to his feet.
Author’s Note:
Meng Xueli: *The rage of a pure virgin.jpg*
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
