Chapter 1308: New little brother or sister
Breathing in the crisp air of pine, dew, and earth carried by a faint, chilly breeze, Yang Qing sighed nostalgically as he took in the untamed beauty of the Deer Mountain Range and all its splendor.
Perhaps it was because his mind was still influenced by all he had uncovered during his short stay here as branch chief—the grottos, the unexpected natural treasures, and the history of the Bi Xie Empire that had once thrived here over a hundred thousand years ago—but to him, the range seemed to carry an even more ancient air.
Pulling himself from those thoughts, Yang Qing asked Haishi to head toward the branch where he wished to make a brief stop to greet his successor and Administrator Mo Guang before moving on to see Meifeng, and afterward, Gu Xing.
With his itinerary set, they quickly made their way to the branch, where Yang Qing used his gold eagle medallion to announce himself and gain entry.
"I didn’t think I’d get to see you around these parts again, Branch Chief," said Administrator Mo Guang with a smile, having personally come to welcome Yang Qing once he learned who the visitor was.
"Well, I had to see how you were doing... and I had missed this place," Yang Qing warmly replied as he looked around, before his eyes finally settled on the elderly administrator, who somehow seemed younger than when he had left him.
"Seems like the range suits you well," Yang Qing gently said.
"And it seems like the headquarters suit you well... you look more at peace now," Administrator Mo Guang answered, a gratified smile on his face.
"Is that so?" Yang Qing lightly replied. "Well, I’ve gotten to see and experience a few things here and there that made me appreciate life more — and even stirred my long-dormant adventurous spirit."
"I didn’t peg you for the adventuring sort," Administrator Mo Guang said, amusement written across his smile.
"What do you mean I’m not the adventuring sort?" Yang Qing retorted with a feigned look of wounded surprise. "I’ll have you know that in Hebei, there are places where I’m known as Traveler Yang Qing — the man of many tales and many mysteries." He puffed out his chest playfully as he said it.
"Fine, fine, Traveler Yang Qing," said Administrator Mo Guang, humoring him with a playful nod. "So, what brings you here?" he asked.
"I promised a friend I’d come see them, and I also have something to ask another friend of mine. Speaking of which, where is Branch Chief Fang Wen?" asked Yang Qing, glancing around.
"She left hours ago," Administrator Mo Guang replied. "She was invited as the guest of honor at the Deer Mountain Kingdom. They’re celebrating the return of the injured Prince Zhou Luan, and also the king’s grandfather finally emerging from seclusion and his successful breakthrough to the seventh-stage Palace Realm."
"So he’s back," Yang Qing said thoughtfully, as unbidden fragments of information surfaced in his mind.
Prince Zhou Luan, the one Administrator Mo Guang had mentioned, was the sole surviving prince from the clash with the obsidian serpents, whose clash ended up claiming the lives of two other princes of the Deer Mountain Kingdom, while leaving him gravely wounded. He had been sent to Medical Valley for treatment, along with the other injured members of the Order who had taken part in that operation.
Given the severity of the injuries suffered by all parties, that prince would likely have died had his treatment not been entrusted to the Order. After all, their opponents at the time—the obsidian serpent couple and the deacons from the Blue Soul Flame Crow Syndicate—were anything but easy to deal with. Even the Order had lost two members in that skirmish, while the Deer Mountain Kingdom lost even more. In addition to the two princes, they had also lost four royal guards, each a palace realm expert.
News of the prince’s return was bound to lift the spirits of some within the kingdom—his mother, for one, and perhaps even the king. As for the other noble families, Yang Qing doubted they would care much, aside from the Shi family, which was the prince’s maternal clan.
The news about the king’s grandfather was bound to stir far more divisive opinions within the kingdom than that of Prince Zhou Luan. After all, the old man had once been the most powerful expert in the Deer Mountain Kingdom with his sixth-stage palace realm cultivation base. But he had been in seclusion for over a thousand years—a seclusion many believed was less about cultivation and more about recuperating from grave injuries.
That belief was what emboldened the great noble families to challenge the royal clan, both openly and in the shadows. With the royal family’s greatest trump card absent, the nobles grew bolder as the centuries passed, their confidence only deepening with every year the king’s grandfather remained unseen.
And they were right. The king’s grandfather had been injured—wounded in the soul by a failed breakthrough. Yang Qing had learned of this from Imperial Secretary He Shan, who confided the matter to him during his time as branch manager, in his desperate bid to seek the Order’s help in the matter.
And Yang Qing, after consulting the Judicial Review Committee, agreed to extend the assistance. It was a win-win situation for both sides: The Order gets owed a debt, and the Deer Mountain Kingdom avoids a war.
With his breakthrough, it seemed the injury to the king’s grandfather had not only been resolved but even turned into an opportunity, allowing him to profit from disaster and advance further. The Zhou royal family—and especially the king—were bound to be elated by the news, given the tightrope they had been walking.
As for the other nobles... Yang Qing was sure he would not
want to be them."If you need the branch chief, I’d be more than happy to tell her you’re here, or we can go there. I don’t think the kingdom would mind you being present. They might even welcome it," suggested Mo Guang.
"They might, but I won’t. I’ve had my fill of tense, awkward environments," Yang Qing said with a wry smile.
"Fair enough," Mo Guang replied with a smile of his own.
Yang Qing exchanged a few more words with him and shared a few cups of tea, since Mo Guang seemed to prefer tea over wine. When Yang Qing felt the time was right, he said his goodbyes.
"When you visit the headquarters, make sure to visit me. You can bring your grandson too," Yang Qing said as he was leaving.
"I will make sure to do that," Mo Guang replied. "Take care of yourself, Branch Chief," he added with a warm smile.
"Take care, Administrator Mo Guang," Yang Qing said as he cupped his fists, then turned and left.
...
In an alcove filled with blue-green grass and blossoming flowers—the greater variety being the gentle white yin magnolias—stood a sycamore tree at the center. Its majestic beauty came from the deep purple flowers covering its branches and the drifting spores of matching color, creating the illusion that one was gazing into the endless beauty of the cosmos.
Beneath this scene, a young lady lay on her stomach, chin propped between her palms, feet swinging playfully in the air as she peered curiously and excitedly at a pristine, crystal-clear pond.
She looked to be in her early twenties, with curly purple hair cascading down past her back. Her beauty was unmatched, carrying with it a certain innocence that only heightened her charm. She wore a sleeveless dress embroidered with a large silver carp and a pond much like the one she was gazing into. Beside that pond were the silhouettes of nine beings: four appeared human—one male and three female—while the others took the shapes of a bear, a badger, a moth, a beetle, and a bird.
The silhouettes seemed to be stargazing.
"Serenity, do you think it will hatch soon? I think it will," the young lady said with gleeful excitement. Her words were directed toward the skylark flying gracefully above her, which also kept its gaze fixed on the pond below.
The skylark shook its head sideways as if in response to her question.
"I knew you’d say that. Always acting against me just because I can sing better," she said, pouting softly. "And dance better too. So petty." She gave the skylark a tauntingly judgmental look.
The skylark’s response was a snobbish twist of its head, as though saying, I can’t even be bothered to reply to that slander.
After firing one last provocative snort at the bird, the young lady turned her eyes back to the pond. They immediately lit up again as the crystal-clear water reflected in her limpid purple eyes.
"What about you two? You think it will hatch soon, right?" she suddenly asked, this time directing her words to the diamond-shelled beetle resting beneath her propped chin. Judging by the pitiable look it cast toward the skylark above, it didn’t seem like it had chosen that resting spot willingly.
The beetle resignedly nodded its head.
"I knew it!" the young lady exclaimed in jubilation as she lunged at the beetle and cuddled it. "That’s why you’re my favorite," she said, rubbing her face against the poor creature.
The beetle, however, kept sending helpless save me looks toward the skylark. When the bird ignored him, he turned to the last being he could appeal to—the crescent-winged moth gliding gently above the pond’s surface. Its wings absorbed the faint white mist rising from the water, giving them an almost jade-like sheen.
The beetle’s plea was destined to go unanswered. The moth, like the skylark, ignored its silent request completely. But unlike the skylark, this did not seem deliberate. Rather, its entire attention seemed captivated by the pond’s effects on its body, if the expression of deep satisfaction it wore whenever the mist seeped into its wings was anything to go by—and the fact that it had not answered the young lady’s question either.
"We will soon have a younger sister join our group," she said excitedly as she set the diamond beetle down. Then, with a quick addendum, she said, "Or a brother too. That won’t be bad, as long as they’re a good little sibling—unlike a certain someone."
Her gaze slid toward the skylark, and a soft snort escaped her. The bird answered with a defiant flap of its wings.
Turning away from the little standoff, the young lady lowered herself onto her stomach again, propping her chin on her cupped hands as she resumed watching a thumb-sized black object that looked like a pearl, marked with nine white dots.
"When will you hatch?" she murmured, her voice tinged with excitable impatience as her legs swayed behind her. "You’d better hatch, otherwise I’ll lose face..." she added softly, sneaking a sidelong glance at the skylark.
"I think it will hatch too," came a gentle voice from behind.
"Right! I knew it would hatch soon!" the young lady replied in excitement before even registering who had spoken. She leapt up in agitated delight at finding someone who agreed with her.
As the excitement ebbed slightly, she finally had the presence of mind to realize there was an intruder in her alcove. Her eyes widened instantly when she saw the intruder, and then she froze. Then, before she knew it, her body as if pulled by some otherworldly force was already lunging toward the newcomer.
"Brother Yang Qing! You’re here!" she screamed in delight, diving and executing a strangling hug.
Yang Qing’s only response to the sudden hug attack was a gratified smile.
"Hey, Meifeng," he said softly as he gently patted her back.