Chapter 20: Could I Be a Genius?

Li Qingran hesitated for a long time when she held the letter and saw the name on the envelope.

Chen Zhi'an...

To most in the Li family, this name was utterly unfamiliar, but to Li Qingran, it was deeply etched in her memory. Her aunt, who had spent over a decade sitting in solitude within her own courtyard, would often murmur this name. In her aunt’s room, hanging on the wall by the head of the bed, was a piece of calligraphy.

It bore only two characters: "Zhi'an."

Beside the character "Zhi" was a tiny handprint. This simple piece of calligraphy was not the work of any great master, yet her aunt treated it as a treasure, framing it with care and even covering it with a layer of thin gauze for fear that dust might settle upon it. Thus, Li Qingran was very familiar with the characters "Zhi'an," and naturally, she knew who had sent this letter.

However, Li Qingran’s hesitation stemmed from the fact that her once peerless and beautiful aunt was already betrothed and would soon be married. If she gave this letter to her, her aunt, already living a life of sorrow, might well sink into a long period of renewed melancholy.

Yet, after much wavering, Li Qingran still brought the letter to the "Old Zhi Courtyard."

"My aunt has waited for so many years for my grandfather to change his mind, but now... I fear she will wait in vain. Let this letter serve as a token for her, a way to let her know that the infant she once held in her arms has grown into a man, one capable of writing to her."

Thinking this, Li Qingran looked up at Li Yinxi’s back. Her aunt’s figure was thin, her long hair draped over her shoulders and swaying in the spring breeze.

Li Yinxi set down her shovel and said casually, "It is likely Princess Shangqiu again. She has invited me to her courtyard to enjoy the flowers several times, but I have no desire to go... I will not read the letter."

How should one describe Li Yinxi’s voice? The great scholar Bai Xian, of the current dynasty, once described the young Li Yinxi: "Every word is graceful, like a string of pearls; she needs no instrument to make the clouds and mist dance with her sound."

It was as beautiful as her name. Li Qingran knew that the reason her aunt refused to visit Princess Shangqiu’s courtyard was likely because the Princess had planted pear blossoms there. To this day, her aunt could not bear to look at them.

"Aunt, this letter was not sent by Princess Shangqiu."

"Hmm? Then who is it?" Li Yinxi turned her head to ask, her pale face showing not a hint of curiosity. The crimson mystical mark on her brow only served to accentuate her legendary beauty.

"The envelope says... Chen Zhi'an," Li Qingran replied.

Li Yinxi’s previously indifferent expression froze. She seemed suddenly at a loss, asking again, "Chen... Zhi'an?"

Her voice trembled like a withered leaf caught by a breeze, slowly descending to the ground. Her delicate shoulders heaved violently, and her frame seemed ready to collapse. Li Qingran hurried forward to steady her.

Li Yinxi, however, only reached out to take the letter from Li Qingran’s hand. The envelope bore only eight characters: "To my Mother, please open." and "Zhi'an."

Despite there being only eight characters, Li Yinxi cherished them like a priceless treasure. She forced her trembling hands to remain steady as she drew the letter from the envelope and slowly unfolded it.

It contained only one line: "Mother, seeing these words is like meeting in person. Please eat well, take care of your health, and there will come a day when we shall meet again."

It was a brief line, much like the letter Chen Shuijun had left for Chen Zhi'an when he departed. Yet, Li Yinxi was already weeping, her sobs audible. Her voice was unstable, like a bird scattered by a storm, calling out in lament for its young.

Li Qingran helped Li Yinxi to the octagonal pavilion nearby. There, Li Yinxi sat, sobbing as she caressed the characters on the letter and the name on the envelope.

Seventeen years of separation. Today, she had received a letter from Zhi'an.

Li Qingran quietly withdrew from the pavilion and left the Old Zhi Courtyard. Outside, a young man of about twenty, wearing a sword at his waist, was waiting. His profile was like jade, and his eyes, hidden beneath long lashes, held a faint shadow. His raven-colored robe and thin lips gave him a cold, aloof air.

"Brother Fushu," Li Qingran greeted. This was Li Fushu, son of General Xuanzi and a figure listed on the Fledgling Tiger Monument.

"What was in the letter?" Li Fushu asked.

Since it was but a single line, Li Qingran did not hide it and told him the truth.

"You should not have delivered that letter. Seeing it will only breed resentment toward our family in my aunt’s heart, and she will be even more resistant to the Si family," Li Fushu said, turning to look at her with a reproachful gaze.

Li Qingran’s expression remained unchanged. "I did not know who this 'Zhi'an' was. Had I known, I would not have brought the letter to my aunt."

Li Fushu seemed to expect this response and did not press the matter further. He let out a cold snort and turned away. "A mud-legged boy from Sunan Prefecture discovers his lineage and thinks he can rely on my aunt to live a comfortable life?"

Li Qingran did not respond.

With his hands behind his back, Li Fushu walked toward the front courtyard, his voice cold. "People of common origin always love to exploit such loopholes. His overestimating father was like this, and now the son is the same."

"But they do not know that the reach of the Li family can cover even Sunan Prefecture. Now that Chen Shuijun is not in Suyu Province, we must ensure that Chen Zhi'an never writes another letter again."

Li Qingran’s expression shifted. She frowned and couldn't help but say, "Brother Fushu, Chen Zhi'an is, after all, my aunt’s own flesh and blood. By relation, he is our cousin. Why be so merciless?"

Li Fushu took a deep breath, stopped in his tracks, and turned to stare at her. "General Si has said that if my aunt marries into his family, he will take one of our younger generation as a disciple, to be raised and taught as his own child."

"He is a figure on the Whale-Riding Ranking, Li Qingran! If one day General Si reaches the Realm of Creation, and our family has his direct disciple, what a prospect that would be!"

Li Qingran was silent for a few moments, then shook her head. "Grandfather is the Minister of Revenue, and our second uncle is the General of Xuanzi, commanding ninety thousand Pine-Sophora soldiers. Both are prominent figures in the Great Yu Dynasty. In terms of status and lineage, we are no less than the Si family."

"Furthermore, our seventh uncle has already been initiated into the Dragon-Nurturing Temple and is also expected to reach the Realm of Creation. Why does brother place such high value on General Si’s legacy?"

"Masters of Creation are truly extraordinary, but cultivation is ultimately their own. With brother’s talent, if you can advance another hundred places on the Fledgling Tiger Monument and gain heaven-sent enlightenment, the Realm of Creation is within reach. Instead of pouring your efforts into others, it would be more practical to strengthen yourself."

Li Qingran spoke calmly. Seeing that Li Fushu did not respond, she simply shook her head and walked away.

Li Fushu stood where he was for a moment before shaking his head and muttering to himself. "Grandfather is the Minister of Revenue, and my father is the General of Xuanzi, but I am neither."

He returned to his own courtyard and, after a moment of thought, recalled the Zhou family from Sunan Prefecture who had come to the capital to pay respects to his father. "The Zhou family supplies over a hundred types of medicinal herbs to the Pine-Sophora army, and now they want to supply even more."

"There will come a day when we meet again?" Li Fushu pondered. "Ordinary people, if they suffer illness or injury, cannot travel far. They cannot come to the capital to see my aunt."

He was not foolish; he understood that as long as Chen Zhi'an was kept in Sunan Prefecture for the rest of his life, it would suffice. Killing him would only invite trouble, and if his aunt were ever to find out, it would not be a good thing for him. Even if Li Yinxi’s cultivation had stagnated and she was no longer the genius she once was, she was still destined to marry the "Buddha-Slaying Marquis" Si Yuanzhao. Even the strongest in the world could not withstand the whispers of a loved one on their pillow.

"Just let him... live out his life quietly in Sunan Prefecture."

Li Fushu took up a brush and wrote a letter, intending to easily dictate the fate of Chen Zhi'an, who was far away in Sunan.

***

Chen Zhi'an had clearly transmigrated into this world. When he thought about it, Li Yinxi in the capital was not truly his mother.

Yet, Chen Zhi'an did not know why he had written that letter. The reason was likely that in the past two years, he had dreamt of this body's mother many times. Chen Zhi'an knew that when he transmigrated into this body, something mysterious had remained within it.

These mysterious remnants had merged with his own memories. Even though his own mind and consciousness were dominant, these memories still influenced him to some extent. For instance, he could easily call Chen Shuijun "Father." After Chen Shuijun left, he felt an intense sense of loss and would sometimes miss him. And he deeply wished that Chen Shuijun could reunite with his mother in the capital, rather than being separated by the world.

So, Chen Zhi'an had indeed written the letter, hoping that even the most ordinary words would bring some comfort to a mother. Since he had written it, Chen Zhi'an decided to work even harder at his cultivation; after all, he had promised that they would meet again one day. This was a pledge, and he did not intend to break it.

Fortunately, for Chen Zhi'an, cultivation was not a difficult task.

By mid-morning, he sat cross-legged in his room, meditating on the "Southern Flowing Scenery" in his mind, and circulating his blood energy with the "Great Snow Mountain Ginseng Qi Scroll." He felt his blood energy growing more and more potent. As it flowed through his internal organs and bones, it even emitted the sound of great waves crashing against the shore.

"The 'Nurturing Qi' stage, tempering the physique—it is said one can gain a thousand pounds of strength. It is true, as they say."

Chen Zhi'an opened his eyes, feeling an abundance of strength throughout his body. He flicked his finger, and a gust of wind shot out. He walked into the courtyard, stood before the stone table, and took a deep breath.

The "Tiger Embracing Fist" breathing technique was activated instantly, and his arms were flooded with blood energy. He stepped forward, crouched, and grabbed the central column of the stone table.

"Rise!"

Under his robe, the muscles of Chen Zhi'an’s left arm bulged, veins stood out, and his skin flushed red. To everyone's shock, the stone table, weighing four or five hundred pounds, was lifted by him with one hand!

Ten seconds later, Chen Zhi'an set the table down. Aside from the dust kicked up from the ground, the table was completely unharmed.

"The strength in these arms... I fear it is at least fifteen hundred pounds!"

Chen Zhi'an frowned, feeling perplexed. "The 'Great Snow Mountain Ginseng Qi Scroll' says that ordinary people practicing 'Nurturing Qi' to perfection gain about a thousand pounds of force."

"I lifted a four- or five-hundred-pound table with one hand and still had enough strength to set it down gently. My arm strength is at least fifteen hundred pounds, and with my full blood energy, I should be able to lift twenty-five hundred pounds."

"And my 'Nurturing Qi' stage is not even at perfection yet; there is still room for improvement... Could the 'Great Snow Mountain Ginseng Qi Scroll' be wrong?"

Chen Zhi'an pondered this, then shook his head, a smile appearing on his face. "The one who wrote the scroll is the Buddha-Slaying Marquis. Even if he was young at the time, he wouldn't have made a mistake."

"It seems I am not an ordinary person," Chen Zhi'an’s eyes brightened. "Could I be a genius?"

He immediately thought of the Red Ginger he drank every day, the Yellow Bell Qi-Circulating Decoction he drank like water, and the Blood- Mansion Stasis-Dispelling Powder. Added to that was his daily meditation on the "Southern Flowing Scenery"...

This was not something an ordinary person could have. Thinking of this, he felt relieved, and the "Map of the Heavenly Jade Capital" slowly unfolded in his mind. In the blink of an eye, the radiance from the Southern Flowing Scenery in the White Jade Capital spilled down, condensing into a human figure that landed in the Kunlun Marsh.

Chen Zhi'an walked through the thick, cinnabar-orange Kunlun spiritual energy. His eyes, constructed of light, shone with brilliance.

"With the ten Red Ginger seeds linked together, plus the nourishment of the cinnabar-orange spiritual energy, a new spirit herb has grown."