Chapter Seventy-Seven: The Ceremony of Accepting a Disciple

Bai Muyun was taken aback, not expecting Lu Baichuan to harbor such goodwill.

He had long ceased to care for life or death, so long as Zhuluo remained unharmed. Yet now he found himself alone, unable to aid her path of cultivation, possessing neither resources nor guidance. If she wandered the world on her own, survival was uncertain. To find her a good master, a place of shelter, was the best he could offer. Liu Changqing was a master of the present age, and Lu Baichuan a knight of generous spirit—yet theirs was but a fleeting acquaintance, and he dared not hope for so much.

Who could have foreseen that Liu Changqing had already agreed the night before to take Zhu Luo as his disciple, and today Lu Baichuan would intercede on his behalf. Considering that the whole city either wished him dead or shunned him like the plague, Bai Muyun felt a rare warmth in his heart and spoke no more.

Lu Baichuan had his own considerations. Over time, he had unconsciously become one with the Yang family, thinking always of what might benefit Yang City. With Liu Changqing taking Mei Yuchen as a disciple, he would surely remain awhile to teach, adding another layer of protection to the Yang family. If he took on Bai Zhuluo as well, it would further bind Bai Muyun to them.

At that moment, Yang Cheng, sprawled across the table, lifted his head. "Whether you teach one or two, it makes no difference."

With a thud, his head dropped again. Lu Baichuan’s face twitched at the sound.

"Haha! I believe it’s suitable. To be frank, I decided just last night to welcome Zhuluo into my tutelage. Since Brother Lu agrees, let it be settled—today my school gains both dragon and phoenix, what satisfaction!" Liu Changqing’s excitement was boundless; he drank deeply, cup after cup.

Even with his tranquil heart, Bai Muyun could not remain unmoved. He rose at once, bowed, and thanked them both.

Unlike Lu Baichuan’s modesty, Liu Changqing was flamboyant. After agreeing upon the ceremony, the company raised their cups in celebration, reveling late into the night.

The next morning, Yang Cheng awoke to Lu Baichuan’s news and learned of the ceremony only then, hastily ordering the hall to be prepared.

Given the sensitive status of Liu Changqing and Bai Muyun, the ceremony could not be ostentatious, nor could it be too subdued. All those of the Yang family who could be summoned were called to bear witness.

It was nearly noon before all was ready.

Within the grand hall, Liu Changqing sat upright in the seat of honor. Yang Cheng, Lu Baichuan, and Bai Muyun sat below to observe.

Mei Yuchen had been unwilling to leave his adoptive father’s side, but after a stern lecture from Lu Baichuan and gentle persuasion from his mother, Su Yunxue, he came to understand the opportunity before him: the chance to be taught by not one, but two masters—an enviable fortune.

As for Bai Zhuluo, she was elated. Having been coddled for over a decade, her second uncle had protected her long enough—now it was her turn to protect him. Her new master, a peerless expert akin to her uncle, was a twist of fate indeed.

To preserve secrecy, only Yang family’s direct martial kin—Li Tianjun, Zhong Qiang, and the steward Su—along with several youths, were invited, totaling just over twenty. Some knew of Liu Changqing’s presence, but not Bai Muyun’s; seeing a handsome man with silver hair seated among them, they instantly realized it was the famed Bai Muyun, the very one sought by all the major clans. The Yang household, it seemed, had become a haven of hidden dragons and crouching tigers.

This only increased their confidence in their choices and the family’s future.

Liu Changqing, who usually carried himself with a roguish air, was solemn today, sitting upright in the hall.

Wei Xu, especially versed in the customs of ceremonies from various regions and sects, had been appointed by Yang Cheng to preside over the ritual. When all were assembled, he called out in a booming voice, "Invite the Ancestral Master!"

Liu Changqing, face grave, produced a painted scroll and hung it with reverence above the hall. The crowd, curious about the master of such a man, looked up to see an image of a great tree, beneath which an old man sat barefoot, cradling a gourd of wine. His hair was disheveled, his attire shabby, his face pockmarked and red-nosed—hardly a figure of transcendence, but rather comic in his appearance.

Disappointment rippled through the crowd. Liu Changqing, a master of elegance, surely had a master of equal distinction—yet this image suggested otherwise.

Undeterred, Wei Xu continued, "Bow to the Grandmaster!"

Bai Zhuluo and Mei Yuchen knelt and bowed, offering incense.

Liu Changqing then introduced, "Today you two join my school. You must know who our ancestor is—my master was known as the Barefoot Wine Immortal."

Few present knew of the Wine Immortal, but Lu Baichuan and Bai Muyun exchanged glances, each seeing shock and curiosity in the other.

Bai Zhuluo and Mei Yuchen remained perplexed. Lu Baichuan spoke: "To enter this school is a rare fortune. Strive with all your might, and bring glory to the name of the Wine Immortal."

Bai Muyun explained, "According to the records, the Wine Immortal lived a thousand years ago, the greatest master of the Liu Yun kingdom. At that time, the royal Zhu clan, seeking to overthrow the previous dynasty, commanded thirty-six unrivaled generals, known as the Heavenly Gang Thirty-Six. With them, they swept the world. The Wine Immortal, indebted to the former royal house, descended from his mountain and, single-handedly, slew thirty of the Heavenly Gang, granting the old dynasty a few more decades. Had the Wine Immortal not ascended to the upper realm, the ruling house might not bear the Zhu name today. Even the six remaining generals became mighty warlords in their own right, and in the early years of the new dynasty, merely mentioning the Wine Immortal struck fear into the hearts of the court."

The hall was abuzz; none had expected such a lineage. Bai Muyun asked, "If the Wine Immortal ascended a millennium ago, how is he your master?"

Liu Changqing replied, "It’s a long story. When my master ascended, he had no disciples, and regretted it deeply. But through his unmatched skill, he left behind a wisp of his spirit. A thousand years later, by fate’s chance, I inherited it and was personally taught his arts. My school bears no name or banner, nor do I seek to glorify it. All I ask is that my disciples remember our ancestor. Should they ascend to the upper realm themselves, they might pay their respects before him."

Bai Muyun nodded. The assembly marveled that a school of only two, in different eras, could each astonish the world. Surely Bai Zhuluo and Mei Yuchen would not fall short.

When the explanations ended, Wei Xu once more called out, "Let the disciples perform the bow!"

Bai Zhuluo and Mei Yuchen knelt before Liu Changqing, who gestured for them to rise.

They received tea from attendants and offered it to their master. After Liu Changqing drank, he read aloud the formal declaration of discipleship.

When the reading was complete, he drew from his robes two tokens and gave one to each. He named Bai Zhuluo, being older, as senior disciple, and Mei Yuchen as her junior.

Amidst a chorus of congratulations, the ceremony ended. The two new disciples were elated, and Liu Changqing nodded in satisfaction. Su Yunxue, standing aside, wept tears of joy.

The rare bustle in the rear courtyard brought Yang Cheng happiness. Watching Liu Changqing’s smug expression, he could not help but think to himself: Why has no reclusive master come forth to declare that I am the unrivaled prodigy of heaven and earth, and beg to take me as their disciple?