Chapter 9: Hidden Grief Over Cai Pingshu

Chang Ning's words had found the exact place where old wounds had scabbed over without ever quite healing, and the dull ache that spread through Cai Zhao's chest afterward was the particular kind that comes not from new injury but from something long buried being gently, mercilessly pressed.

As a child, she had asked her aunt more than once whether she ever regretted it — whether she regretted trading away her rare and extraordinary gifts for a few years of fragile peace across the Martial World. But Cai Pingshu would only say, with that quiet steadiness that never wavered: In two hundred years of history, countless heroes have risen and fallen. There is no room to carry so many regrets. If it felt right at the time, then it was worth doing.

Miss Qi, for her part, had quite the temper. Not only had she stormed out in a blaze of wounded fury, but in her exit she had swept several plates of pastries clean off the table — white jade cakes, pear crisps, golden orange cheese, cherry mille-feuille — scattering them across the surface in a small, colorful ruin. Cai Zhao had been too preoccupied playing her careful game with Qi Lingbo to eat anything earlier, so now there was nothing to do but sigh at the carnage and pick up the fallen pieces one by one, nibbling through them with the resigned thoroughness of someone determined not to waste food simply because it had been knocked to the floor. Even eating in haste, she paused over each bite, tilting her head slightly as she considered the flavor.

How to put it precisely — the pastries were not bad. But they carried the faint disappointment of a lavish imperial banquet assembled with every luxurious ingredient — lobster, tripe, fat goose, rich duck — yet somehow lacking the two things that could not be bought at any market: originality and warmth. She set the mille-feuille down with a small, internal sigh. Three parts disappointed in the Azure Tower Sect's master chefs. Perhaps four.

Chang Ning had expected a different scene entirely. When Yin Sulian's words had left his mouth, he had half-anticipated that Cai Zhao would ignite — fury rising fast and hot, everything she had carefully contained finally breaking loose. Instead, he watched as she gathered herself back, degree by slow degree, until she was sitting calmly at the table eating scattered pastries. He waited. A considerable length of time passed. Cai Zhao held a piece of cherry mille-feuille between her fingers, frowning very slightly, lips pursed as she savored it in absorbed, wordless concentration.

He could not help himself. "Did you bite into half a cockroach?"

From their very first meeting in the plum grove — through Qi Lingbo's threats and bullying, Zeng Dalou's labored mediation, Dai Fengchi's attempts at intimidation — this girl had held her ground throughout with playful composure and words smooth as river-worn stone. An almost unshakeable equilibrium that, precisely because it was so consistent and so carefully maintained, made Chang Ning want to find the single point that would crack it.

The pink in Cai Zhao's cheeks held its color. Her smile remained unhurried. "Don't worry, Senior Brother Chang Ning."

"What exactly am I supposed to worry about?"

"Even if I strike up a friendship with Senior Sister Qi in due course," she said pleasantly, "I won't let her come to dig out your heart's blood."

Something moved sharply through Chang Ning's expression — though the sores covering most of his face obscured the worst of it. He said, with deliberate slowness: "What precisely do you mean by that, Junior Sister?"

Cai Zhao set the pastry down. "It means Senior Brother Chang Ning doesn't need to go out of his way to stir up trouble on my behalf. I know exactly what kind of person Madam Sulian is. But I will be staying in the Azure Tower Sect for three years — there is no advantage in tearing away all pretenses today, when I've barely arrived. That said." A brief pause, perfectly timed. "Now that she has spoken of my aunt in that manner, there is no longer any point in forcing that particular performance to continue."

Chang Ning's face, after hearing this, settled into an expression of careful blankness — though the sores, it must be said, contributed their own impenetrability to the effect.

"Setting aside the grievances between our elders entirely, Senior Sister Qi simply is the way she is. Uncle Qi himself has said for years that his daughter behaves for a few days after a proper scolding, and a few more after a beating — and even that cannot hold against Madam Sulian's constant coddling, which is precisely why he never once brought Qi Lingbo to meet my aunt all these years." Cai Zhao's voice carried neither particular bitterness nor particular mercy. "Senior Brother Chang Ning, however, is a different matter. The Big Dipper Six Sects share a common bond. Unless someone betrays their sect outright or commits crimes beyond forgiveness, no matter how insufferable they might be, we cannot simply beat them or have them killed."

She folded her hands in her lap. "Take Madam Sulian as an example. My aunt said long ago that this woman is incapable of doing real good — but equally incapable of real evil. Just a mouth that makes people want to cover their ears. My mother's view is more direct: if she truly pushes you past the point of patience, just fight her once and be done with it."

After this frank and thorough assessment, Chang Ning appeared entirely unmoved by it. "If you already understand all of this," he said, "then why come to the Azure Tower Sect at all? There are other branches of the Big Dipper Six Sects to consider. Surely there was a smoother road to an apprenticeship."

Cai Zhao could hardly admit that she had been more or less dragged here by both parents with limited opportunity for objection, so she said instead: "Harmony brings wealth. When it isn't a matter of principle, letting people have their few words costs nothing. If every one of the seventy-two shops in Fallen Blossom Town ran on a short fuse, how would any of them do business? Besides — there are no smooth roads in this world. You have to tread the rough ground flat yourself before the walking becomes easier."

Chang Ning studied her for a moment with cool, unhurried attention. The smile that followed was not a warm one. "You didn't come willingly. You were brought here by necessity. I suspect Sect Leader Qi and your aunt arranged this apprenticeship some years ago, and your parents were determined to see it through. However reluctant you were, refusal wasn't truly an option available to you."

Cai Zhao's expression cooled noticeably. "Senior Brother Chang, I am sincerely trying to get along with you."

Chang Ning: "As am I."

Her face composed itself into something approaching frost. "In any case — during the Ancestor's memorial days, I will protect you properly. I will not allow Senior Sister Qi anywhere near you with her intentions. Once Sect Leader Qi has time to spare from his duties, we will each go our separate ways."

Chang Ning gave a short, dismissive sound. "Junior Sister Cai truly doesn't need to strain herself on my account. After all, the entire Chang family is already dead. What is one more?"

Cai Zhao stared at him and concluded, with the quiet resignation of long commercial experience, that this particular person was fundamentally unreasonable. Even the most practiced shopkeeper in Fallen Blossom Town could not smooth things over with a customer who had arrived specifically determined to find fault. She let out a short breath through her nose, turned her back on him with her teacup, and Chang Ning produced an identical sound and turned away in precisely the same motion.

A beat of silence.

Then a bright, eager voice came drifting in from just outside the door —

"...Right this way, please! Madam Cai, do be careful — there's a lamp stand around this corner, just there. Ah, who put this potted plant here? The passage is already crowded enough without blocking it completely! Valley Master Cai, don't worry — this should be the very room. I asked the head disciple myself — he confirmed Junior Sister is in here."

Cai Zhao heard the familiar cadence of that voice — warm, efficient, the natural rhythm of someone accustomed to managing people pleasantly — and felt immediate, uncomplicated goodwill toward whoever was producing it.

Since setting foot in the Azure Tower Sect, every person she had encountered had fallen into one of four categories: overbearing young mistress, head disciple running interference for his own, senseless flatterer, or sarcastic lunatic. She had begun to quietly wonder whether normal people existed within these walls at all.

The voice outside drew rapidly closer, and the door to the side room swung open. A young man of average height with a round face and dimples escorted Cai Pingchun and his wife inside.

"Father, Mother, you're here!" Cai Zhao rose from her seat, her smile genuine and unguarded for the first time since arriving. "I thought I would have to wait until the banquet to find you. You must be Fifth Senior Brother — the head disciple mentioned you. This Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff is so vast, earlier I was — ow!"

Ning Xiaofeng delivered a sharp, practiced Head Flick to her daughter's skull without breaking stride. "Big? Your carelessness is what's big! Wandering recklessly through an unfamiliar major sect without permission — do you know how many such places have forbidden grounds or restricted areas? One wrong turn and you cause an incident that cannot be undone!"

Chang Ning stood still, his gaze fixed on Cai Zhao's reddened forehead with an expression of complete blankness.

Cai Pingchun ignored his daughter entirely, turning instead to address the young man who had escorted them with a measured bow. "Thank you, Nephew Fan. This child is thoughtless and has put both you and the head disciple to unnecessary trouble."

Fan Xingjia laughed — an open, unaffected sound. "Valley Master Cai, please don't say such things. Poor hospitality is the Azure Tower Sect's failure, not our guests' burden to carry. Besides, Junior Sister will soon be formally apprenticed and become one of our own — after that, Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff will be as much her home as anyone else's, and there is no harm in her exploring it freely. Madam Cai, please don't scold Junior Sister on our account."

"Xingjia is right. Of all the disciples I've met today, you have the best temperament by far," Ning Xiaofeng said, her tone visibly softening as she turned — and then pausing as her eyes landed on the tall young man still seated at the table, his face marked by sores, his striking eyes raised now in quiet attentiveness. Her fingers, still poised in mid-flick, lowered slowly. "And this is...?"

Cai Zhao stepped forward quickly. "This is Chang Ning — the son of Uncle Chang..."

Cai Pingchun let out a measured breath, something heavy settling in his expression. "Ah. Brother Chang's son." He searched briefly for the right words and found none sufficient. He was not a man given to easy expression, and the weight of what had befallen this young man's family sat awkwardly against the limits of what language could offer.

Upon learning Chang Ning's identity, both of the Cai elders turned toward him with a warmth that was quiet and genuine and required no performance.

"Mother — where's Xiao Han? I don't see him." Cai Zhao glanced around, searching.

"Leave him? What nonsense." Ning Xiaofeng's tone snapped back to its usual brisk precision. "Your great-aunt and great-uncle have both come today. You vanished, but Xiao Han still has people he should properly greet. Come along — we're going to pay our respects to the elders." She reached out and took hold of her daughter's arm with a grip that did not invite discussion.

"They've both taken monastic vows — does one still call them great-aunt and great-uncle..." Cai Zhao found herself already moving. "Hey, Mother, not so fast! Senior Brother Fan, Brother Chang — come along too." Being dragged along at pace, she remembered Chang Ning just in time and reached back with her left hand to take hold of his sleeve. The group moved forward in a chain, Fan Xingjia falling naturally in at the rear.

From that position, he happened to catch a particular detail: Chang Ning, head tilted slightly downward, the corner of his mouth curving into something that was unmistakably, quietly, a smile.

---

Outside, the banquet's gathering noise had already taken on a life of its own.

The Azure Tower Sect had seen roughly ten successive sect leaders across its two hundred years of history, each tenure varying enormously — the longest spanning more than thirty years, the shortest an infamous three hours that no one in the sect discussed in polite company. Aside from two instances of father-to-son succession, transitions had followed the master-disciple line. Each leader, arriving with distinct tastes and the ambition to leave his mark, had added and altered the Dusk Micro Palace until it had become what it was now: a remarkable study in accumulated contradiction.

The chandelier hanging directly above Cai Zhao's head was an elegant, crystal-clear piece left behind by the fourth sect leader, each pendant catching the lamplight like frozen water. A mere three feet away, suspended from a white jade beam, hung the creation of that same man's son — the fifth sect leader — a massive, extravagant thing incorporating eighteen entwined dragons and phoenixes, heavy with gold fittings, inlaid rubies, and hand-painted porcelain panels. Cai Zhao looked between the two of them and found herself privately wondering whether the son had been adopted.

Lowering her gaze from the chandeliers, she was met with a sea of gleaming bald heads — men and women, elderly and young, some faces carrying long-settled kindness and others a severity that suggested they had not smiled willingly in decades.

Slightly dizzied by the expanse of them, Cai Zhao bowed quickly and properly before the elderly nun and the middle-aged Zen master standing before her. "Greetings, Shijing Yuantai. Greetings, Master Juexing. It has been so long — I hope both of you are well and that everything proceeds smoothly."

Shijing Yuantai was past sixty, gaunt but perfectly upright, her years of discipline compressed into a severity that seemed to radiate from her like cold air from old stone. The expression she carried habitually was the kind that could silence an entire roomful of restless children without a single word being spoken — little Cai Han was already pressed behind Master Juexing's robes, not making a sound, his large eyes round with subdued caution.

Ning Xiaofeng introduced Chang Ning. The Chang family massacre was known throughout the Martial World, and even the habitually unyielding Shijing Yuantai allowed something to soften — briefly and carefully — in her expression. Master Juexing expressed his sorrow with repeated, sincere words. Chang Ning received all of it with the same distant composure he brought to everything, unmoved and giving nothing in return.

After the pleasantries had been properly observed, the elderly nun turned her scrutiny to Cai Zhao with the full weight of long-held opinion. "The Azure Tower Sect is a school of genuine standing and discipline. Once you join, you must put aside the loose habits you've accumulated in Fallen Blossom Town. Do not bring disgrace upon the name your family carries."

"...I will take your words to heart, Shijing Yuantai." Cai Zhao swallowed the reply that rose in her throat — the observation that Fallen Blossom Valley already occupied the lowest rung available in terms of manpower, resources, and reputation among the Big Dipper Six Sects, and that it was somewhat unclear how much lower they could meaningfully be brought.

Zen Master Juexing noticed the small flicker of discomfort crossing the girl's face and chuckled with practiced warmth. "Zhao Zhao, once you are formally a disciple, you will be considered grown. Conduct yourself with good sense and follow the guidance given to you here at Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff." He paused, then added with deliberate emphasis: "But do not take bullying lying down either. I have brought you a cage of carrier pigeons this time — trained ones, from Evergreen Temple. If anyone wrongs you, send word to your elders at once."

Cai Zhao's face immediately opened into a wide, relieved smile. "Thank you, Uncle! I will be obedient, and I will not let anyone bully me!"

Shijing Yuantai turned a pointed look on her nephew. "A monastic refers to themselves as this humble monk — not I or you! You managed to sound like a proper elder for two sentences before the third instructed her to run and tattle to her family. Your cultivation is clearly insufficient!"

Cai Han blinked his enormous eyes from behind Master Juexing's robes. "...Aunt, you just said I as well."

The Cai couple bent their heads simultaneously, shoulders carefully still.

---

As the hour for the banquet approached, Fan Xingjia came to escort the senior elders toward the main hall while the younger guests — Cai Zhao's generation and below — were directed to the side tables arranged in the southeast corner. Before she departed, Shijing Yuantai could not resist one final word, aimed at her grandniece's bowed head with the patient precision of someone who had been delivering this particular message for years and intended to keep delivering it until it took root: "Once you have joined the sect — follow its rules. Do not imitate your aunt's habit of causing trouble everywhere she went!"

Cai Zhao kept her head respectfully lowered and said nothing, holding the bow until the elder had moved on.

When she finally straightened, Chang Ning was standing nearby. He had been watching the angle of her bowed head for a quiet moment. Without speaking, he took both siblings lightly by their sleeves and steered them toward a table at the room's edge — quieter than the others, well-lit without being harsh. Little Cai Xiaohan had been eyeing the pockmarked youth with visible wariness since their introduction, but the wariness dissolved gradually as he noticed how carefully the older boy served the dishes, placing the better portions within easy reach.

"If you disliked that old nun speaking of your aunt that way, you could simply say so." Chang Ning added two generous spoonfuls of chicken mushroom salad dressed with walnut oil to Cai Zhao's plate. "At worst you'd be given a punishment. What exactly is the use of absorbing it in silence and seething privately?"

"...I used to answer back when I was small. But my aunt told me to stop." Cai Zhao had firmly resolved not to have any unnecessary conversation with this particular sarcastic person, and found herself answering him anyway, the words coming from a place where she had turned things over many times without resolution. "She said that Shijing Yuantai simply disapproves of her free-spirited approach to living, but that underneath it the elder is genuinely fair-minded and principled, and deserves proper respect on that account."

"Of course your aunt would say something like that." Chang Ning added two thin slices of spiced beef to her plate with the same unhurried attention. "The old nun is both an orthodox sect elder and your mother's direct senior. Should your aunt have said instead — well answered, Zhao Zhao! Excellent form! Let me teach you additional comebacks for next time?"

Cai Zhao very nearly laughed. She composed herself. "Brother Chang, please mind what you say."

Chang Ning continued serving her — this time three thick salt-grilled fish fillets, placed squarely at the center of her plate. "Very well, different subject. Why did all your maternal elders take monastic vows? There must be a story worth hearing."

This, at least, Cai Zhao could answer with genuine enthusiasm. Having grown up immersed in Cai Pingshu's neighborhood storytelling, certain histories lived in her the way other people carry old songs — present and ready without effort.

"My grandmother and Shijing Yuantai were twin sisters. In their youth, they encountered Buddhist teaching and became convinced they were twin lotus flowers from the Mahavairocana Temple's sacred pond, destined for the ordained life — right up until my grandmother met my grandfather on the very eve of her vows and abandoned the path entirely to marry him instead."

Chang Ning tilted his head with slight bewilderment. "...Why does this story sound familiar?" He thought for a moment. "Ah — there is a legend that Old Ancestor Bei Chen once cultivated a pair of twin lotus flowers at Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff. And the late Old Sect Leader Yin, who modeled himself on the Ancestor in every available way, named his two daughters Su Lian and Qing Lian." He considered this. "Why do all these ancient stories seem to arrive at the same destination? So what came next? Your grandmother broke her vow but then pressed her children to take vows in her place?"

Cai Zhao warmed to the telling. "You wouldn't fully understand without some grounding in Buddhist thought. Karma is not a simple ledger. If my grandmother had kept her vow and entered the order, neither my mother nor my uncle would ever have been born — and neither would their descendants, going forward. So in her understanding, having them take vows would fulfill the original pledge on her behalf, carrying the weight forward through the proper lineage."

Chang Ning nodded slowly. "Growing up inside that kind of belief system, it would be natural to be drawn toward it. Your uncle did become a monk in the end — but your mother met your father."

"Not quite how it happened." Cai Zhao grinned. "My mother fell entirely for my aunt first — who was traveling in male disguise at the time. By the time her heart was gone, all thoughts of vows and temples had gone with it."

Chang Ning set down his chopsticks. "...Hmm. I know what comes after — my father told me. When your mother eventually discovered that Heroine Cai was a woman in disguise, the shock nearly drove her straight to the Hanging Temple to take her vows after all. Shijing Yuantai was reportedly overjoyed at the prospect and placed obstacles throughout every approach to Hidden Beauty Gorge to prevent your aunt from interfering. Your aunt responded by rallying her brothers and fighting her way up to the top, eventually — persuading — your mother to return to the world of ordinary human concerns."

The faint curve at his lips was not quite a smile but close to one. "My father kept urging everyone present not to disturb the sanctity of the sacred grounds, which earned him the nickname Nanny Chang from your aunt's brothers for some years afterward."

"...My aunt always told them not to use that nickname," Cai Zhao said, slightly pained.

"It's all right." Chang Ning's voice settled into something quieter and less armored. "To be honest — my father missed it. Not the nickname itself, but everything it was attached to. The era it belonged to. The people who said it with that particular laughter." Hero Chang Haosheng had not treasured the name so much as the carefree, luminous days of his youth — days full of recklessness and good companions, days that moved at the speed of spring wind and tasted of promise — and the sound of voices that had long gone silent.

Cai Zhao was quiet for a moment, looking at nothing in particular. When she spoke, it came out softer than she intended. "My aunt missed those times too. When everyone was still young, still riding that spring wind together, when they descended on Hidden Beauty Gorge in enough chaos and noise that Shijing Yuantai came within a fraction of breaking her own vows of non-violence." She paused. "Back then, Nie Hengcheng hadn't yet turned to dark arts. Hadn't yet used living people to forge Corpse Puppet Slaves. Everyone who mattered was still alive and whole. No one had been crippled yet. No one had lost who they loved most."

Chang Ning waited until the silence following her words had completed itself before speaking again.

He straightened slowly, with the deliberateness of someone choosing the weight of what they are about to say. "Your grandmother couldn't forsake love. She broke her vow, married, and by all accounts lived half her life in genuine happiness because of it." He looked at Cai Zhao directly, without softening what came next. "And yet — to resolve the private regret of her own youth — she then attempted to steer her children into the monastic life without consulting whether they wanted it. Without asking whether the path suited them or whether it would bring them peace."

A measured beat of silence.

"How exactly is that different," Chang Ning said quietly, "from selling a daughter to a brothel to settle one's own debts — dressing it up as virtue in order to live more comfortably with the decision?"