My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 786 - 491: Asking the Ghosts (Combined)

Not long after entering the town, they saw a courtyard adorned with celebratory decorations, with large red lanterns hanging high above the entrance. This was the Li Mansion.

According to Li Chenghang, his father, Li Xian, was among the ranked scholars during the early Huanglong era, officially recognized and awarded for his service. Unlike the honorific "Assistant Clerk" often used by wealthy landowners and gentry, which was largely undeserved, Li Xian held the genuine title of "Substitute Assistant Clerk."

Li Chenghang claimed his own talent was not equal to that of his father. In the past, he had also shown disrespect towards the town deity, which limited his achievements; he had only reached the rank of Licentiate and briefly served as an Eighth-rank Instructor. Though his tenure ended after two short years due to mourning family obligations, it provided him an opportunity to network with friends—some of whom were peers from the same class, while others were younger scholars.

With one ranked scholar and one licensed gentleman under its roof, the Li Mansion was undoubtedly the wealthiest household in town. From afar, one could see its pavilions, terraces, and ornate buildings. Upon entering the inner courtyard, they were greeted by an exquisitely designed garden with winding corridors, arching railings, small pavilions, and framed windows. A few graceful maids came to meet them, asking with concern about the guests' comfort. Li Chenghang casually responded to them with a few instructions before inquiring,

"How are the guests inside?"

"They haven't started drinking yet; everyone is waiting for the master to return."

"How absurd! Hurry and serve the wine immediately."

Li Chenghang quickly called the maids to prepare the wine, then turned to address Chen Yi and his companion:

"Today is the Lantern Festival. There is a poetry gathering at my residence, and I've invited some friends over. Would the two Taoists be interested in joining us for a drink?"

Chen Yi didn't seem to mind; having traveled across Jianghu for many years, he was accustomed to adapting to situations easily. After having subdued the Upper Corpse and Middle Corpse demons, many unnecessary desires within him had already faded.

He smiled and replied, "Let me say this in advance—I don't have much literary talent."

"The Taoist is modest. Please, follow me."

Li Chenghang led the two into the rear courtyard, surrounded by white walls. Several plum trees were planted along the edges, and cold brown winter bamboo partially concealed an octagonal pavilion. From afar, they could see faint human figures gesturing toward them.

The scholars immediately paused their poetry exchanges and matches. One of them laughed aloud and said, "Our host has arrived! It's been worth the wait."

"Haha, finally waiting for Brother Zhi Yuan to return from his business. Let's open the wine!"

"I didn't feel inspired earlier, but seeing these figures walking here from amidst the plum blossoms—there's certainly a charm in it."

As these words fell, the courtyard grew lively. Li Chenghang stepped forward to greet everyone and exchange pleasantries, while Chen Yi gazed around with slightly reserved curiosity. Though it wasn't his first poetry gathering, his lack of poetic talent left him feeling out of place. Compared to Chen Yi, Yin Tingxue appeared quite entertained, her almond-shaped eyes gleaming with a soft sparkle.

The maids busily moved back and forth, stoking fires to heat wine and preparing fresh paper and ink.

Midway through his jesting and chatting, Li Chenghang grabbed a fine brush. Then, surrounded by the crowd in their embroidered robes, he turned and said, "These two are Taoists I met on the road—they are said to hail from the capital…."

With just a few brief remarks, Li Chenghang introduced the pair to the gathered scholars. In Great Yu's literary circles, there was a prevailing fascination with Taoist cultivation. Upon hearing that these two Taoists were visitors from the capital, the scholars displayed both enthusiasm and curiosity.

Li Chenghang promptly began introducing the assembled scholars to them.

"This is Brother Zhang, whose given name is Jun and courtesy name Ziyin. This is Brother Geng, whose name is Yun Han and courtesy name Zhengya. Here's Brother Duan, a local talent—his name is Siyuan and courtesy name Wen Qu. And this is Brother Du…."

After exchanging customary greetings one by one, Chen Yi casually engaged in small talk before respectfully bowing with joined palms and saying, "I, a humble Taoist, along with my junior sister, pay respects to you all."

"Don't be fooled by the Taoist's self-effacing title of 'humble'; his Taoist skills are anything but ordinary. When we encountered him beside the cemetery and heard him chanting sutras, we didn't feel even a trace of eerie energy." 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"Is that really true?"

"Why would I lie? The Taoist truly has remarkable abilities."

The scholars grew intrigued. Genuine Taoist masters were scarce amidst the many charlatans, so they viewed the claim with half-skepticism and half-curiosity.

Among them, Zhang Jun, a striking and dignified scholar dressed in a blue robe, was inspired to compose. He took a bowl of wine from a maid and handed it over, saying,

"It's rare to encounter Taoists of such youth and skill; let me present a piece titled 'Shadow of the Phoenix Tree.'"

Chen Yi made a few modest remarks like "I don't deserve such praise" before accepting the wine. Zhang Jun turned, picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, and used his free hand to calculate the rhythms while lightly pressing his stomach. He soon began writing a brief lyric.

"Clear Taoist, heavenly maiden. Through the lake's breezy winds, clouds part the skies, serenely practiced Taoist skill beyond words."

Once the poem was presented, Chen Yi and several scholars exclaimed in unison, "Excellent!" Only then, following their lead, did Chen Yi hesitantly echo, "Excellent poem, excellent indeed."

"Do not rush to praise it, Taoist," came a playful remark from Duan Siyuan, who then turned with a smile and teased,

"Zhang Ziyin, in 'Clouds part the skies through the lake's breezy winds,' there's wind and cloud aplenty—but where's the lake?"

Zhang Jun laughed and replied, "Why not ask Brother Wen Qu about his 'Autumn light dances upon a candle seen through windows' …?"

The crowd burst into laughter; their poetic fervor continued to soar. The rich aroma of wine filled the pavilion, as Li Chenghang poured wine for everyone, inviting them to sit down together. Some stood before the table engaging in poetic debates, composing verses, or even recounting tales from their travels—each story animated, captivating, and vividly illustrated.

Whenever emotion surged during a recount, it would spark spontaneous poetic fragments, which the group collectively completed.

Wine goblets were exchanged constantly, and the clinking of glasses intertwined with laughter and conversation. The scholars' passion for poetry rose higher and higher, shifting from discussing poetry inspired by events to inventing poetry based on imagined scenarios. In their drunken euphoria, their wild enthusiasm for poetry was on full display, with none holding back their joy.

"Amidst fallen petals and flowing waters of lush mountains, a path winds through clouds to hidden heights—how many layers await?"

Zhang Jun, utterly immersed in creative zeal, mulled for a moment before reciting aloud,

"Who will carry on?"

Several scholars responded with bits such as "In the mortal world, wealth means nothing; only at lofty peaks resides value," "No mere wandering traveler can visit Tao; an unfamiliar face yet feels like a meeting." But none of their lines seemed to capture the intended beauty, leaving the flow of poetic inspiration temporarily obstructed.

Duan Siyuan furrowed his brows in thought before turning toward Chen Yi, his eyes lighting up as he suggested, "How about borrowing from a Taoist's meditative retreat…?"