Chapter 10: Where is this Bridge? |
Niu You Dao, hearing himself described as ignorant, feigned complete incomprehension. How else could a simple village boy grasp the affairs of the upper echelons?
After a bit of idle chatter, Niu You Dao returned to his courtyard. He strolled around the courtyard for a while, then went back into the peach garden. He approached the prayer mat, beside which sat a basket filled with sundry items. There were needles, scissors, and everyday necessities. Among them lay two bronze mirrors. One of them was precisely like the one Dong Guo Hao Ran had entrusted to him.
He had left Dong Guo Hao Ran's mirror here because the most dangerous place was often the safest. If he hid the mirror too well and someone discovered it, they would certainly grow suspicious.
Holding the mirror in his hands, Niu You Dao examined it, unable to discern anything extraordinary about it.
Dong Guo Hao Ran had sacrificed his life for this mirror. Why was it so important? In his past life, Niu You Dao had been a renowned tomb raider, yet one of high moral standing. It was not without reason that he was called Lord Dao. Only Tang Mu had perished, and Dong Guo Hao Ran had specified that the mirror was to be given solely to Tang Mu and no one else. Now, Niu You Dao found himself in a predicament.
He had already considered handing the bronze mirror over to the Supreme Purity Sect, but the Supreme Purity Sect held him under house arrest, distrusted him, and was hiding something from him. Therefore, Niu You Dao decided to first uncover its secret, and then, depending on the circumstances, decide whether or not to surrender the bronze mirror.
For now, he tried burning it, submerging it in water, shining light on it, and tapping it. None of these actions elicited any reaction. This bronze mirror seemed to be a single, solid piece. Niu You Dao tapped the mirror and realized there was no mechanism inside. He began to doubt, perhaps this bronze mirror was merely a token or a symbol. Flipping it over and examining it once more, Niu You Dao, gritting his teeth, threw the mirror back into the basket.
The following days he spent in a similar fashion: training, honing his body, practicing splits, and carrying heavy loads on his back. However, he wasn't aiming for brute strength, but rather to temper his physique. Based on his experience in swordsmanship, besides delivering strikes, one also needed to skillfully evade attacks. Whether in the village or at the Supreme Purity Sect, he had often heard that this was a troubled era. Therefore, he needed to prepare himself.
In addition to tempering his body and training various methods, Niu You Dao spent his free time copying treatises on military strategy that were available in the residence. After all, he was familiar with the Xiaozhuan script, having read a considerable number of ancient texts in his past life. Thus, writing and reading ancient literature posed no difficulty for him. Only the brushes available in the courtyard differed from those of the modern world, making it difficult for him to clearly form Xiaozhuan characters.
Though he had abundant free time, Niu You Dao still planned his days quite productively.
One day, a new couch, still smelling of fresh wood, was brought and placed under the peach tree.
Cheng Gui Shuo, winking at Niu You Dao, said:
"Brother, your couch has arrived."
Niu You Dao hadn't expected it to arrive so quickly. Knowing full well he had requested the couch for Cheng Gui Shuo, he smiled and said, "Thank you, Brother."
This time, Song Yang Qing, who hadn't appeared in a long time, arrived in good spirits. Smiling and clapping Niu You Dao on the shoulder, he asked:
"Brother, how do you find life here?"
Niu You Dao:
"Good, good. The food here is much better than in the village. It's just a bit dull not being able to go out and stroll around."
Song Yang Qing chuckled in response: "You haven't been here long enough yet. First, calm down and get used to it. Cultivation requires a tranquil heart, and then you'll be able to advance further." Having said this, he, placing his hands behind his back, walked to the cliff edge. He looked quite cheerful, only to suddenly sigh and lament, "It's a pity this isn't the capital!"
Niu You Dao approached and asked curiously: "Brother, what is the capital like?"
Song Yang Qing replied:
"How can these desolate mountains and barren lands compare to the opulent poetry of the capital's Shi Ci Ge Fu!"
Niu You Dao froze: Shi Ci Ge Fu? Since when does your cultivation world value Shi Ci Ge Fu?
Cheng Gui Shuo snickered to himself from behind. He and Su Yi Tian clearly understood the situation. Song Yang Qing had admired Tang Yi for many years. To win her favor, Song Yang Qing learned that Tang Yi enjoyed poetry. So, he arranged for any new poetry that emerged in the capital to be immediately reported to him. He would then recite these poems to Tang Yi. However, no new poems had come from the capital for quite some time. Unable to bear it, he decided to compose a poem himself. As soon as he finished, he asked Su Yi Tian and Cheng Gui Shuo for their opinions. As they were, effectively, his retainers, how could they dare tell him his poems were bad? So they praised it as splendidly written. And so, overjoyed, Song Yang Qing went to recite the poem to Tang Yi. However, after their meeting, he returned in a foul mood and reprimanded Cheng Gui Shuo and Su Yi Tian. It wasn't hard to guess how the meeting had gone.
Therefore, Cheng Gui Shuo understood Song Yang Qing's mood. If this were the capital, with his influence, he could have found a poet to compose verses for him, which Song Yang Qing would then pass off as his own. That's how he would have won Tang Yi's favor.
Song Yang Qing seemed to snap out of it and, waving his hand, said no more. He entered the courtyard and began inspecting it. He was tasked with overseeing Niu You Dao, and if anything seemed amiss, he was to take immediate action.
Standing outside, Niu You Dao and Cheng Gui Shuo chatted quietly:
"Brother, why is Brother Song studying Shi Ci Ge Fu?"
Cheng Gui Shuo whispered in reply:
"Our master acquired a talented disciple. He was not only powerful in cultivation but also gifted in poetry. He composed verses. Sister Tang kept company with him and was influenced by his poetry, which is why she enjoys Shi Ci Ge Fu!"
Niu You Dao understood Song Yang Qing's desire to win Tang Yi's affections and immediately asked Cheng Gui Shuo:
"I wonder, which senior did Sister Tang study poetry with?"
Hearing about the senior, Cheng Gui Shuo was startled and subtly signaled to Niu You Dao with his eyes that this was a forbidden topic. He should keep silent and not speak of it. Having issued his warning, Cheng Gui Shuo immediately entered the courtyard. Niu You Dao followed him inside as well.
After inspecting the courtyard once, Song Yang Qing gave a few instructions to Cheng Gui Shuo and was about to leave:
"Brother Song, when I was in the village, I remembered a few poems my master wrote. I wonder if you would care to evaluate them?" Niu You Dao, seeing Song Yang Qing about to depart, quickly caught up and called out.
Song Yang Qing, without interest, didn't even pause. He turned and said:
"What good could a stray scholar write?" Song Yang Qing spoke with disdain.
"A stray scholar in the village?" Niu You Dao felt a chill in his heart. He had already seen the true nature of the Supreme Purity Sect. He had learned about his master for himself while in the village.
However, had he truly been fortunate to leave the village? He had brought Dong Guo Hao Ran's body, and what was the outcome? He was confined and taught no cultivation methods whatsoever. Had he endured all those hardships for this? Niu You Dao was not about to miss any opportunity:
"My master was once in the capital and wrote romantic poems there. His verses had once won him not just a single woman."
At his words, Song Yang Qing slowed his pace, and Cheng Gui Shuo looked at him warily. This little devil seemed to be up to something.
"Oh! Well, write down what your master composed," Song Yang Qing turned back and asked with interest.
Niu You Dao immediately returned to the peach blossom hall and, kneeling, he retrieved his writing implements. He took out a sheet of paper, weighted down the corners, dipped his brush in ink, and began meticulously inscribing Xiaozhuan characters.
"Truly worthy of a learned man. The characters are beautiful!" Song Yang Qing, who had approached, began to lavish praise on Niu You Dao. Song Yang Qing continued to read what Niu You Dao was writing:
"Sparse clouds, swiftly revolving stars, the Milky Way. Can golden wind with jade dew really dispel the beauty of countless human connections..." As he read, a sparkle appeared in Song Yang Qing's eyes. Though not a poet himself, he could read poems and had a rudimentary understanding of them. At the very least, he could certainly distinguish between good and bad.
When Niu You Dao stopped writing, Song Yang Qing swiftly took the sheet from him and, holding it with trembling hands, began to read:
"Soft as water, a happy day may be but a dream. Can the Magpie Bridge withstand the journey back? Will loving hearts ever again spend days and nights together... Will loving hearts spend days and nights together..."
After rereading it several times, Song Yang Qing finally nodded his head contentedly:
"A good poem, what a good poem!" Clearly, this poem resonated with him.
Niu You Dao chortled inwardly. He put down the ink and brush and, feigning incomprehension, asked:
"A good poem?"
Song Yang Qing nodded his head, and rereading it several times, suddenly grew doubtful. Looking at Niu You Dao, he asked:
"The Magpie Bridge, where is that? What does it mean?"
"Er..." Niu You Dao was at a loss for words. It seemed they didn't know about the legend of the Weaver Girl and the Cowherd: "My master wrote it, I myself don't know where this Magpie Bridge is."
Song Yang Qing thought for a moment, then gestured to Cheng Gui Shuo. Understanding his meaning, Cheng Gui Shuo immediately departed. Without witnesses, Song Yang Qing smiled and said to Niu You Dao: "Did your master write many poems?"
Niu You Dao thought to himself: *I know many poems; I'll tell him as many as he needs.*
He nodded his head: "It seems so."