We Agreed On Experiencing Life, So Why Did You Immortals Become Real? Chapter 514: Accompany Me to Meet the Wife of the Last Confucian Saint in the World

Xian Xichun led Tushan Jingci and Xiao Mo to the Administrative Hall. Before long, the procedures for leaving the academy were complete.

In truth, it was mainly Tushan Jingci who needed to go through those formalities. For a book boy like Xiao Mo, signing his name was enough.

After the procedures were done, the three of them went together to Zhenniu Tower in Cold Mountain City for a small drink.

Xian Xichun looked at the young man and young woman sitting shoulder to shoulder, and the more he looked, the more he felt the two were well matched.

But when he thought of what they might have to face next, he could not help sighing inwardly.

“Jingci offers a cup to Teacher.”

Tushan Jingci raised her cup and spoke openly, a smile in her eyes.

“If Teacher has leisure in the future, you may come to Tushan as a guest at any time. Xiao Mo and I will certainly receive you properly.”

“Heh heh heh...” Xian Xichun lifted his cup with a smile, his eyes full of gratification. “Since Young Lady Tushan has said as much, then I shall certainly have to make a trip to Tushan and enjoy myself a little.”

“Then I will respectfully await Teacher’s arrival.” Tushan Jingci drained the wine in her cup in one swallow.

“Whether in Tushan or at Cold Mountain Academy, no matter where you two are in the future, you must cultivate properly.”

Xian Xichun looked at them, his gaze carrying some emotion, and his tone gradually turned solemn.

“More than that, you must guard your original heart. If a person loses that original heart, then the Great Dao beneath that person’s feet will go farther and farther astray, faster and more dangerously with every step. Do you remember?”

“Yes.” Xiao Mo and Tushan Jingci answered together, their expressions respectful. “We will remember Teacher’s instruction.”

When the words fell, Xian Xichun took a jade pendant from his robes, held it in his palm, and examined it for a moment. Then he used both hands and split it in two.

“As your teacher, I do not have anything particularly good to give you.”

He handed the two halves of the jade pendant to them separately, his tone casual and candid.

“This is just an ordinary little object. It is called Moru Jade. A woman made it a very long time ago. It was not crafted especially well, but the material is rather particular. If you wear it while meditating, it can help you enter stillness more quickly.”

“This...” Tushan Jingci and Xiao Mo looked at each other, both unsure what to say.

“Oh, if I tell you to accept it, then accept it. What, do you look down on this gift from your teacher?”

Without allowing any refusal, Xian Xichun placed half of the Moru Jade in front of Tushan Jingci, his tone carrying a few notes of feigned displeasure.

“If you do not accept it, your teacher will be unhappy.”

“Then thank you, Teacher.” Since Tushan Jingci could not refuse, she could only accept it, though she still looked somewhat embarrassed. “Only, Teacher has given us a parting gift, but we have nothing to return to Teacher...”

“Hahaha, no need, no need.”

Xian Xichun drank a cup of wine readily and waved a hand.

“Jingci, that poem you wrote has brought your teacher no small amount of face. When I walk before my colleagues, I wish I could recite it several times more, so that all of them know this was written by my student.”

“Poem?” Xiao Mo was slightly stunned and looked at Tushan Jingci in confusion.

“What, Xiao Mo, you don’t know?” Xian Xichun was somewhat surprised. “This poem was written by Jingci for you.”

“I have been cultivating in the courtyard all this time, and Jingci never mentioned it, so I truly do not know much about it.” Xiao Mo smiled faintly and shook his head.

“I see. Then I will recite it for you. Listen well.”

Xian Xichun cleared his throat, full of interest, and was about to begin.

“The first line of this poem is, ‘Three years have passed; today—’”

“Teacher!”

Tushan Jingci hurriedly interrupted him, lowering her head shyly. Her gaze stole toward Xiao Mo beside her, and even the roots of her ears were covered with a faint blush. There was a trace of pleading in her voice. “Please... please don’t recite it...”

“Hahaha, what, are you embarrassed in front of your sweetheart?”

Xian Xichun laughed aloud.

“Fine, fine. I won’t recite it, then. Come, eat. Drink.”

In high spirits, he poured one cup after another for the two of them.

As Xian Xichun drank, he explained the present situation of the demon-race world in careful detail, and then told them, one by one, the principles he had comprehended over the years of his own life.

This could be considered the final lesson he, as their teacher, would give them.

Xiao Mo sat to the side and listened quietly, yet he kept feeling that the wine Teacher drank today was not merely parting wine with the two of them.

It seemed more like Master Xian was drinking with himself.

As though not long after this meal of wine was finished, Master Xian would go and do something great.

An hour later, Xian Xichun was already dead drunk. His entire body had collapsed onto the table, and his mouth was still mumbling something indistinct.

Tushan Jingci had no choice but to settle the bill and have Xiao Mo carry Master Xian back to Cold Mountain Academy.

“We scholars! We must put our families in order, govern the state, and bring peace to all beneath heaven!”

“We sword cultivators—our swords must be fast! They must be sharp! A pity... my sword was not sharp enough... and not fast enough either...”

“If my sword had been fast enough and sharp enough then... she would not have...”

“Ah, forget it, forget it...”

“Xiao Mo, you must remember this. The Confucian Saint I admire most once said that in learning, one must unite knowledge and action! One must not only think, but also do!”

“To act before thinking is no good. But if one thinks and then does not act, wouldn’t all that thought have been for nothing?”

“That gentleman’s learning was truly lofty!”

“A pity that those damned things in the Ten Thousand Arts world! They call themselves scholars, yet they are not even equal to a beast dressed in robes and cap like me! Pah!”

Xian Xichun was carried on Xiao Mo’s shoulder as they walked toward the city outskirts, yet his mouth did not quiet for even a moment. He cursed and muttered, his voice so loud the whole street could hear him.

A few children pointed at Xian Xichun and laughed, calling out, “Mother, look! Someone is making a drunken scene!”

Under the gazes of the people in the city, Xiao Mo’s face flushed a little. Walking felt wrong, stopping felt wrong, and he was truly somewhat embarrassed.

Tushan Jingci followed behind them. When she saw Xiao Mo’s awkward expression, she could not help covering her small mouth and laughing secretly.

After returning to Cold Mountain Academy, Xiao Mo simply settled Master Xian in his own bamboo courtyard first.

After all, if Master Xian’s current state was seen by his other colleagues, then by the next day he would probably suffer a public death from shame, and there would be no avoiding being laughed at for quite a while.

Xiao Mo laid Xian Xichun down on his own bed. Xian Xichun turned over and soon fell into a loud, deep sleep.

After settling Teacher, Xiao Mo escorted Tushan Jingci back.

“This is the first time I have ever seen Master Xian drink so much.” Walking beside Xiao Mo, Tushan Jingci remembered the sight of Teacher making a drunken scene earlier and shook her head helplessly.

“Teacher’s conduct in wine today was indeed not very good...” Xiao Mo nodded. His steps slowed slightly, and he turned his head, looking at the young woman beside him with a smile. “But...”

His gaze was gentle, carrying a soft smile.

“Young Lady’s poem was truly well written.”

“Eh?” Hearing Xiao Mo’s words, Tushan Jingci froze slightly. Her eyes blinked as she looked at him, and a blush quietly rose over her cheeks. “Xiao Mo, what... what are you saying...”

Xiao Mo smiled, then slowly recited, “Three years have passed; today, within this courtyard, a face and peach blossoms blushed together red. Where that face has gone, I do not know; the peach blossoms still smile in the spring wind.”

After he recited the final line, he looked smilingly at the young woman beside him. “Wasn’t this poem written by Young Lady?”

“You...”

With her own poem recited aloud to her face like this, Tushan Jingci felt her cheeks burn terribly. She lightly bit her lower lip, and that blush had already crept quietly to the edges of her ears.

“You... how did you know?”

“When we were drinking, Master Xian secretly transmitted his voice and told me.” Xiao Mo looked at the young woman’s profile, his eyes carrying a trace of appreciation. “It truly is a good poem.”

“Stop talking, stop talking. It is too embarrassing!”

Tushan Jingci twisted two fingers tightly together, her fingertips unconsciously fidgeting. The long legs beneath her skirt moved faster and faster, wishing she could hurry and throw Xiao Mo behind her.

To her, when she wrote that poem, it had come from genuine feeling. Every word and every line held her longing for Xiao Mo, and the way she had waited day after day, hoping he would leave seclusion sooner.

Who could have imagined that this poem would spread so quickly?

And now Xiao Mo knew it too.

It was truly too embarrassing.

This feeling was somehow even more embarrassing than when she had confessed her feelings to him yesterday.

“What is there to be embarrassed about?” Xiao Mo caught up with her, his tone carrying a deliberately puzzled note. “Isn’t this poem just about spring peach blossoms? Could there be some other meaning?”

“You... hmph... I’m ignoring you...” Tushan Jingci lifted a small fist and lightly punched Xiao Mo on the shoulder. She turned her head away, and her steps grew even faster.

Seeing that she truly was embarrassed beyond endurance, Xiao Mo stopped teasing her and only followed silently by her side, letting the gradually setting slant of the sun draw their shadows long and overlapping together.

“Unfair...”

After they had walked for a long while, the young woman, who had kept her delicate head lowered and had been walking forward with it buried, suddenly muttered softly.

“What is unfair?” Xiao Mo asked.

The young woman raised her head. Those watery eyes stared straight at him, her tone carrying a few traces of sweet annoyance. “Only you get to laugh at me. That is unfair!”

“I really wasn’t laughing at you.” Xiao Mo quickly explained, “I truly think it was well written.”

“I don’t care. Just now, you were laughing at me.” Tushan Jingci pouted, her cheeks puffing slightly.

“All right. Then shall I apologize to Young Lady?” Xiao Mo said with a smile.

“I don’t want your apology.” Tushan Jingci lifted her chin. As her eyes shifted, they carried a few traces of charming willfulness. “You... you have to write a poem too!”

“Me?” Xiao Mo was slightly stunned.

“That’s right! You have to write a poem too. I want to laugh at you properly as well!” Tushan Jingci turned and blocked Xiao Mo’s path, placing both hands on her slender waist. Her cheeks were puffed out, and she looked as though she would not stop until she achieved her goal.

“And it has to be... has to be...”

As she spoke, the young woman’s cheeks grew redder and redder, and her voice gradually lowered, as soft as a summer breeze brushing through mountain woods and leaving only a faint, fine rustle behind.

“A poem... written for me...”

...

One month later.

The demon-race world, Cold Mountain City.

One month ago, a pair of women in Daoist robes had come to Cold Mountain City, causing the city’s common people to stop and watch, their eyes unable to move away for a long time.

And today, one month later, Cold Mountain City welcomed two unfamiliar women.

One wore a white skirt, while the other wore a green skirt.

The woman in the green skirt already had a beauty capable of toppling states and cities, her brows and eyes full of moving grace.

But the woman in the white skirt beside her was beautiful to an even more unreasonable degree, so beautiful that no words could be found to describe her.

It was as though the moment the woman in white stood there quietly, all color left the world. Heaven and earth and all things dimmed, leaving only the snow-white figure of her.

Moreover, between each movement of her hand and foot, the woman in white carried a naturally formed imperial majesty, as though all things in the world ought to submit beneath her skirt. It made others dare only to watch from afar, not daring to approach in the slightest.

The woman in white slowly walked through the streets and alleys of Cold Mountain City, all the way to the foot of the mountain wrapped in dense Confucian literary fortune.

Standing at the foot of the mountain, she raised her head and saw the four words “Cold Mountain Academy” written above the mountain gate in upright regular script, the brushwork vigorous and the lingering rhythm long.

“I did not expect that such rich literary fortune could still exist in the demon-race world.” The woman in green looked around, her expression carrying no small amount of surprise and emotion.

“It is indeed not easy.”

The woman in white parted her lips slightly. Her voice was like immortal music from the heavens, ethereal and cool, carrying a chill that kept others a thousand miles away.

It was as though the heart beneath her breast had nearly been sealed away completely.

As though the woman in white was relying on a single thought to barely preserve the last trace of warmth in that heart.

“Let us go.” Her gaze passed over the mountain gate and fell into the depths of the academy. “Let us see this academy of the demon-race world, and see how these scholars differ from those in the Ten Thousand Arts world.”

The woman in white stepped forward, her long legs beneath her skirt carrying her up the mountain one step at a time. Her pace was composed, her bearing cool, and each step held a naturally formed dignity.

And in the very instant she entered Cold Mountain Academy, the literary fortune of the entire academy seemed to be startled by something.

Gusts of Confucian page-turning wind abruptly rose from the mountains, howling as they swept across every peak and every bamboo grove.

That literary fortune, dense to the point of almost becoming solid, gathered unceasingly in the air, layer upon layer, gradually condensing into a heavy ink cloud that pressed down over the academy.

Everyone in Cold Mountain Academy raised their heads and looked at the phenomenon in the sky, their hearts filled with indescribable shock.

“Headmaster, this... what is going on?”

A teacher of the academy named Chaoxi hurriedly flew to Cun Caiguang’s courtyard, panic in the voice.

“Could it be that some great Confucian quasi-Saint from the Ten Thousand Arts world has come to our academy?”

To be able to cause such a vast phenomenon of literary fortune meant that the person who had come was deeply protected by the Great Dao of Confucianism.

And such a person was at least a Confucian quasi-Saint.

But how could a Confucian quasi-Saint possibly come here?

“A quasi-Saint?”

Cun Caiguang stroked his beard and smiled, shaking his head.

“She is no quasi-Saint. The reason she can draw forth such a phenomenon, the reason Confucian literary fortune protects her so deeply, is because of her husband. And her husband was far more than a mere quasi-Saint...”

“Her husband? Far more than a quasi-Saint? Could this person be...” Chaoxi’s eyes were filled with astonishment, and a guess had already formed in mind.

“Let us go.”

Cun Caiguang straightened his clothes, his expression calm, his steps steady.

“Accompany me to meet the wife of the last Confucian Saint in the world.”