Chapter 25: A Malady of Malice and a Magistrate’s Summons

“And helping Master and Mistress, I must first thank Cangxuan.”

“It’s a trifle.”

Upon reaching the room’s entrance, Jí Yào halted, stepping aside to allow Qíngyǔ to enter alone.

The interior of the Yang residence was furnished with stark simplicity: merely a dressing table, a wooden bed, and a single wardrobe.

Master Yang, waiting by the bed, quickly rose upon Qíngyǔ’s entrance, but before he could utter a word, a hand gestured him to stop.

“I am well aware of my own affliction; it is not one that any physician can cure.”

Mother Yang’s voice, tinged with weariness, drifted from behind them, yet her words were still a gentle refusal.

Qíngyǔ glanced at Master Yang, motioning for him to sit by the bedside, then extended her hand to produce a brush, which she began to wield in the empty air.

Within the world of black and white, where no other hues should exist, a vivid crimson thread snaked from the head of the bed, tethering itself to Mother Yang, clinging eerily within her.

“Indeed, this affliction is beyond the remedies of any mere doctor.”

With a sweep of her hand, Qíngyǔ conjured a wisp of pure energy to guard the patient’s heart and meridians, lulling her into a peaceful slumber, before finally addressing Master Yang.

“What is this?”

Master Yang, somewhat perplexed, could only cup his hands in a respectful gesture as he inquired.

“Someone seeks to harm your Yang family.”

It might not even be a person; after Qíngyǔ had integrated the essence of ‘Pure Rain’ (TL Note: Referring to the name ‘Qīngbái yǔ’, which means ‘Pure White Rain’ or ‘Pure Rain’, symbolizing purity and clarity.) the day before, her perception of the world’s demonic entities had ascended to a new level.

Where before she had merely suspected foul play against Mother Yang, now she could clearly discern the distant, malevolent intent tethering her.

Hearing Qíngyǔ’s words, Master Yang showed little surprise; he simply sighed, settled onto the bedside, and gripped the wooden frame.

“It is all my fault. In my youth, I cultivated too many enemies, and now in my old age, my family pays the price.”

“How do you mean?”

Master Yang gestured towards the door. Qíngyǔ, understanding implicitly, followed him outside, and they walked until they reached the spot where they had previously shared wine. Only after he had brewed a fresh pot of tea did he slowly begin to speak again.

“Young Lady, you might as well consider this a tale to be heard.”

Over fine tea, ancient stories unfolded, filled with endless lament.

Ultimately, it was no grand affair: merely a talented scholar who achieved high office, noticed by the emperor and appointed to a significant position. Driven by his fervent ambition, he acted with abandon amidst the murky politics, never realizing he was merely a pawn in a game of checks and balances.

In the end, once the imperial succession had stabilized, this upright minister lost his utility. Having amassed too many enemies, and with a few malicious slanders thrown into the mix, he was summarily demoted and cast aside.

“Had I not been so impetuous, and had I not submitted that final resignation, incurring the emperor’s displeasure, perhaps those people would not have dared to be so audacious.”

Master Yang drank his tea as if it were wine. His hair was already streaked with grey, but now he appeared even more disconsolate, utterly dejected.

“You also bear a grudge against the Qin family.”

Hearing Qíngyǔ’s statement, he offered no rebuttal.

“Indeed, there is enmity. When the eldest son of the Qin family gained martial renown and sought to volunteer for service on the frontier, I submitted a memorial to block his appointment.”

“But wasn’t that helping the Qin family?”

“Helping?”

Master Yang chuckled, pointed to himself, then reached out to pour himself another cup of clear tea.

“I simply could not bear to see the nation’s dignity suffer. No matter who it was, if their talent did not match their position, I would submit an impeachment memorial.”

“So, the Qin family interpreted your words as suppression?”

“They even laid the death of Qin Lu at my feet.”

Qíngyǔ shook her head, then also took a cup of tea and savored its delicate flavor.

Observing Master Yang, lost in his heartfelt lament, a sudden idea sparked in her mind.

“Then you never considered re-entering officialdom?”

“With so many enemies at court, who would wish to see these old bones of mine stand beneath the imperial throne once more?”

Qíngyǔ activated her ink-wash vision, gazing at him, and between the black and white, a faint cerulean blue lay hidden.

From her previous experiences, she knew that green represented immortal dao allies, and vivid red denoted demonic entities and wicked paths. What, then, could this clear blue signify?

“There will be an opportunity.”

Qíngyǔ uttered the words without apparent context, and Master Yang, taking them as a jest, continued to pour out his grievances.

“My daughter now cultivates the immortal dao, which fulfills her aspirations. As for these old bones of mine, I am too weary to bother with the idle gossip of the marketplace.

It would be better to simply live out my days peacefully in this secluded mountain town.”

“Indeed, living out one’s days in peace is truly good.”

Qíngyǔ deeply agreed, drained her tea, and rose to cup her hands in a respectful salute to Master Yang.

“I now have a lead regarding your Mistress’s illness. Earlier, I invoked a wisp of pure energy to protect her heart and meridians, but I will need to devise further methods for a complete cure.”

“As long as it can be cured, as long as it can be cured.”

Master Yang murmured, pondering for a moment, then emphasized a point to Qíngyǔ.

“Young Lady, it would be best if you did not associate too closely with my Yang family. There is much malicious gossip in the marketplace concerning us, and I fear it might tarnish your good name.”

“If even an immortal is willing to grace your home, why should this humble daoist fear such idle rumors and gossip?”

“That is different,” Master Yang hastily waved his hand. “Immortals come and go as they please, untouched by worldly affairs. Even if they are mocked, it makes no difference to them. But you, Young Lady, still walk among mortals, and thus…”

“Pray tell, what kind of idle talk is it?”

Though Qíngyǔ had interrupted him, Master Yang showed no irritation.

He merely shook his head and replied, “Most of it speaks of my Yang family bullying men and oppressing women, and wielding power arrogantly at court, which is why we were demoted and sent back to our hometown.”

“Do you know who spread these rumors?”

“I made too many enemies. Moreover, during my time in office, I did not often promote my fellow villagers, so such words are impossible to suppress entirely.”

“Could it not be the Qin family deliberately spreading them?”

“How could the words of a single family tarnish my reputation?”

Hearing Qíngyǔ’s suggestion, Master Yang’s first thought was that it was impossible, but as he pondered it, he found himself somewhat speechless.

“Unless… the Qin family sought out Daoist Feng, but…”

Upon hearing talk of gods and ghosts, Qíngyǔ’s mind already grasped a few insights, prompting her to press further.

“Daoist Feng?”

“Matters of gods and ghosts are mostly ethereal and illusory. This tale of Daoist Feng was merely a court rumor, and originally, I did not believe it either.”

At this, Master Yang smiled faintly.

“After encountering demonic entities and witnessing a true immortal these past few days, I was reminded of it.”

It is rumored that this Daoist Feng is an itinerant daoist from a certain grand mountain. If one were to offer him incense and virtue (TL Note: ‘Bàixiāng sòngdé’, literally ‘offer incense and send virtue’, implying a devotional offering or payment.), he would help you spread rumors about your political adversaries.

“Though it is said to be offering incense and virtue, in truth, it means presenting treasures and the like. I once thought it merely a euphemism for seeking connections, but now, reflecting upon it…”

Master Yang did not elaborate further, his lifelong habit preventing him from stating matters too definitively.

“Hmm, this humble daoist will investigate this matter thoroughly.”

However, this account did give Qíngyǔ an idea. Logically speaking, Zhang San should not have suddenly appeared at the courtyard gate after such a long time.

“Then I thank you, Young Lady.”

Just as the two were conversing, a sudden knocking sounded at the gate of the Yang residence.

“Inside! Open the gate quickly!”

Jí Yào, who had been silently standing by, heard the pounding on the gate. In two swift strides, he cleared the low courtyard wall and leaped outside.

“Who are you?!”

“Do you dare obstruct official business?!”

“Quiet.”

With two cries of ‘Aiyoh!’, the main gate was finally opened from the outside by him.

“Master, the county magistrate has sent someone to invite you.”

Jí Yào sheathed his saber back at his waist, then cupped his hands in a salute towards them.

The two constables lay sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath, clutching their shoulders, their faces etched with misery.

Passersby, witnessing the scene, scattered even further, daring not to approach the Yang residence.

“Let them enter.”

Hearing this, Master Yang first sought Qíngyǔ’s counsel, and seeing her nod in affirmation, his former despondent aura instantly vanished, replaced by a voice that was calm and steady, imbued with an inherent majesty.

The two fallen men, as if granted a great pardon, scrambled to their feet, fleeing the ‘plague god’ beside them as if their lives depended on it, rushing through the gate.