Why do I have so many masters?

"Now that it's confirmed you're not one seeking fame through false pretenses, it's time for me to leave Fufeng Academy."

Wang Anfeng naturally expressed his thanks, but the renowned capture before him let out a light laugh and said leisurely:

"I've said there's no need to thank me. Moreover, I have a favor to ask of you."

Wang Anfeng replied calmly:

"Jiangfeng Yiqing, just speak your mind. As long as it's something I can do and it doesn't violate my principles, I will certainly help you."

Jiangfeng Yiqing looked intently at the young man before him. His smile faded, and after a moment of silence, he said slowly:

"If one day, I become like those corrupt officials..."

"Kill me."

Without waiting for Wang Anfeng's response, Jiangfeng Yiqing had already turned and started to walk away, his demeanor calm. As he walked away slowly, with his back to the young man, after taking more than a dozen steps, he suddenly spoke up again in a soft voice.

"Of course, that's if you're no longer Yi Nanping."

"Then the person coming to you will no longer be Jiangfeng Yiqing, but rather the principle-less Wuxin."

Wang Anfeng watched his figure disappear into the darkness, and after regaining his composure, he said:

"It's also possible that on that day, what's in your hand is not a sword, but wine."

Jiangfeng Yiqing paused for a moment, silent, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"If that's the case, all the better."

Before the word 'better' had finished echoing, his figure had vanished from Wang Anfeng's line of sight. The Wind Character Tower stood still and quiet as always, surrounded by a forest of green bamboos, lush and verdant. It showed no sign of the recent battle. Wang Anfeng exhaled and turned to walk towards his own hut, his steps unhurried.

To forget one's spirit, Yi Nanping, arises from witnessing injustice.

The hope is to sheathe one's sword and retire in seclusion only when there are no more injustices in the world. Find more to read at empire

Not when one no longer has the spirit to continue living.

...........................

In the bamboo grove, Jiangfeng Yiqing stood with his hands behind his back, letting the wind lift the hem of his black robe, his eyes slightly closed.

Right or wrong?

Only when dawn touched the horizon did his expression finally soften, no longer as stern. He raised his hand to rub his face, like an early-rising scholar leisurely walking along a familiar path, moving against the stream of students, occasionally greeting acquaintances with a smile.

As he left the house, Yan Ling called out to him, waving:

"Yi Qing, Junior Brother, today we will discuss a new chapter of the Dharma Scriptures. Will you be there to hear it?"

"I'll be there!"

Jiangfeng Yiqing nodded his head slightly in response, his expression as usual, the light shining on him made each breath seem to carry the warmth of the sunlight.

If they say the patriarch was naïve, am I not the same?

When my time comes, decades from now, close to death, I will certainly try with all my mental energy to record the most perfected laws and regulations I've seen so that they may be passed on to future generations, even if new problems will certainly emerge, just the same.

Jiangfeng Yiqing looked at the entrance to Fufeng Academy and murmured to himself, shaking his head gently, with no hint of reluctance, he stepped forth resolutely.

"There's no end to the law..."

There is no ultimate law.

But without an ultimate law, without end, never stopping, the heart of reform undying, that is the essence of a true legalist.

................................

In Shaolin Temple, everything was as it always had been. On a solitary peak, a monk in a grey robe was seated on a stone, seemingly in meditation, while beside him, a scholar held a book, seemingly absorbed in the world within. Wu Changqing was still sitting leisurely on his vine chair, flipping a page before suddenly saying with a smile:

"I've been considering it, and I think that to eliminate the grievances in one's heart, medicinal skills are necessary."

Ci Yuan looked up with a gentle shake of his head and said in a warm voice:

"Medicinal diets rely on external forces; medicines always carry the risk of poison, bringing future troubles."

"Better to dissipate the fires in one's heart with Buddhist Scriptures."

Wu Changqing put down the Pharmacopeia in his hand, stroked his beard, and replied with a smile:

"Ah, Master Ci Yuan, that isn't quite right"

"Buddhist teachings are the easiest to infiltrate when one is vulnerable. It's still better to use the principles of the inexhaustible Pharmaceutics to keep the boy clear-minded during this period, to prevent him from becoming obstinate."

"Do you agree, sir?"

Mr. Ying sneered coldly, turned his head away, and paid no attention.

Wu Changqing found the rejection uninteresting but didn't mind; he turned his head and continued to debate with Ci Yuan.

The things Wang Anfeng had experienced lately were just common tales for these veterans of Jianghu.

But to a child of merely thirteen or fourteen years of age, the impact was so great they could hardly bear to contemplate it.

Originally, they had thought to see if the youth could withstand it on his own, but after just a few days, one by one, they couldn't sit still. The one unwavering as the eight winds had fallen from the Lotus Platform and, in the dead of night, went to the Shaolin Scripture Pavilion, searching through Buddhist scriptures to quell the fire in his heart, and reading through the tales of Jianghu.

The one who normally rose from his rattan chair, squatted for God knows how long in front of the kitchen stove, delving into medicinal diets to calm one's inner demons.

Each believed their method was best.

The atmosphere atop the solitary peak seemed to freeze instantly when Wang Anfeng appeared.

Ci Yuan coughed lightly, his face showing his usual tranquil expression, and beckoned Wang Anfeng over.

Looking at Wang Anfeng, who seemed to have grown from a small village boy into his current form under his watchful eye, the monk's eyes were gentle as he raised his hand and softly touched the youth's dark hair, gently rubbing it, and said warmly,

"Anfeng, you've done very well, come, sit."

"Today, your master will impart to you the second level of the Golden Bell Shield."

The monk's voice paused briefly, and then he said nonchalantly,

"Then, there's also this scripture, which is also..."

"Cough cough cough, cough!"

Wu Changqing began to cough violently, the renowned healer of Jianghu appearing to suffer from a severe cold, with his coughing even drowning out Ci Yuan's voice, attracting Wang Anfeng's attention. Ci Yuan frowned slightly and turned to stare at Wu Changqing, who, unabashed, stroked his beard and chuckled, saying,

"Master Ci Yuan, you're speaking of cultivation as soon as Anfeng arrives, isn't that a bit hasty?"

He then turned to Wang Anfeng, who was quieter than usual, eyes full of kindness, as he enticed with a chuckle,

"Come, Anfeng, your second master has prepared many medicinal diets today."

"They taste very good, and I've added your favorite things..."

"Amitabha, Mr. Wu, I feel that cultivation is more important."

"Ha-ha... it seems the master is attached to appearances."

"No, it is the layman Wu who has the barrier of knowledge and insight..."

Wang Anfeng listened with some bewilderment while Mr. Ying's brow had already furrowed slightly. Amidst their argument, he slammed the book in his hand heavily on the table, stood up, stepped forward, and his movement technique unfolded behind him, leaving a trail of afterimages. In an instant, he was already behind Wang Anfeng.

With his left hand behind his back and right hand casually reaching out, he grabbed the youth's collar. Ci Yuan and Wu Changqing paused in surprise, and the Scholar merely gave them a cold smile, then took a step as if riding the wind into the sky, soaring upwards.

"You!"

"Sir, please wait!"

Ci Yuan and Wu Changqing abruptly stood up and took two steps to follow, but at their level, a quick step was a thousand miles away; there was no way to catch him, especially since the Scholar had concealed his tracks with his status. They could only look at each other and smile wryly.

With a sigh, the monk stood with one hand before his chest and offered a respectful gesture, saying,

"Mr. Wu... these past few days, it was I who misspoke, I hope you can forgive me."

The old man chuckled bitterly, clasping his hands together,

"In a moment of urgency, I, too, was somewhat offensive..."

"Yet, I never expected Mr. Ying to take action, overturning the game entirely."

"Still, since Mr. Ying rushed to take action, we can only trust him."

His voice faltered, and the old man muttered,

"But I still believe that the medicinal diet is best, though the sir has never argued about it, it seems he has a well-thought plan."

"A well-thought plan?"

The monk smiled helplessly and walked over to where the Scholar had been sitting. He looked it over and a realization came over him. Casually flipping open the book on the table, he shook his head and said,

"Is this what you call a well-thought plan?"

Wu Changqing walked over, looked at the upside-down characters on the page, and was dumbfounded.

"This..."