Chapter 27: The Matriarch

Currently sitting in the side room of the courtyard are Xie Yuxiang, Zhuo Yilang, Ye Miwei, and Cang Shu.

As for why Cang Shu was sitting there, he had actually been pushed out of the room by Xie Yuzhu, who was nearly suffocating from anxiety. At that moment, facing the two cultivators from the immortal sects and a swarm of dummies in the courtyard, he had said, "...This is my grandmother."

The reason he was pushed out was clear: to keep an eye on Ye Miwei and prevent her from saying anything she shouldn't.

Song Jiao poured barley tea for the guests and then hurried away, barely touching the ground. Xie Yuxiang and Zhuo Yilang bowed in turn. Xie Yuxiang said, "I am Xie Yuxiang, a disciple of the Fuguang Sect, and this is Zhuo Yilang, a disciple of the Lingjin Pavilion. Please forgive our abrupt visit today. We were so impressed by your swift solution to the Ghost Valley calculation problem at the market this morning that we intended to pay our respects immediately. However, we were occupied with urgent matters and could only come to disturb you now. We hope you will be generous, Senior."

The old woman before them sat upright, showing none of the hunch or lethargy typical of her age. Her face was a maze of wrinkles, but her eyes were clear, with distinct black and white pupils. Her gaze rested upon them without a trace of surprise, wariness, or suspicion; she simply waited for them to continue.

Xie Yuxiang cleared her throat and asked, "May I ask for your name, Senior, and which sect you hail from?"

No sooner had she finished speaking than Cang Shu began to cough. He was already as thin as a bamboo pole, and with his body wrapped in strips of cloth, the sight was quite strange; his coughing made one suspect he was suffering from consumption. Zhuo Yilang moved aside discreetly to distance himself.

Cang Shu patted his chest and said, "It is nothing, just choked. Please, continue."

"Do you have any other questions?" Ye Miwei bypassed Xie Yuxiang's question entirely, doing so with such natural ease that Cang Shu felt his coughing fit had not been in vain.

Xie Yuxiang and Zhuo Yilang exchanged a glance. The elderly woman, who refused to reveal her name, possessed no cultivation; she appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary person.

"May I ask where you learned your mathematics, Senior?"

"I taught myself."

"You taught yourself?" Xie Yuxiang exclaimed in surprise.

Zhuo Yilang’s face showed disbelief. He whispered to Xie Yuxiang, "One must be at least an inner-disciple with twenty years of practice to even be exposed to Ghost Valley calculations, right?"

Where would common folk ever need such complex mathematics? Even in most immortal sects, those who did not specialize in construction and deduction never touched such things. Currently, the most advanced mathematics were held by the Fuguang and Xiaoyao sects, guarded as closely as confidential techniques.

Although the old woman’s eyes were failing, her hearing was sharp, and she caught their whispers clearly. Zhuo Yilang’s words turned over in her mind, leading to an unexpected conclusion.

She looked at Zhuo Yilang and asked, "So, you were unable to solve the calculation problem this morning?"

Zhuo Yilang was stunned and replied hesitantly, "Ah... I am not from the Fuguang Sect, so naturally, I could not."

"What does that have to do with your sect? The world is filled with mathematical principles; they are visible at a glance, clear upon calculation. How could you not know them?"

"..."

Zhuo Yilang had never expected the scrutiny to turn back on himself.

"Each sect has its own strengths. The Fuguang Sect has a lineage specialized in deduction, so they are naturally proficient in mathematics. That is not the focus of my Lingjin Pavilion, so I have not delved into its theory. Besides, your mathematical ability, Senior, is not something an ordinary person could—"

Ye Miwei nodded, lost in thought. "No wonder your 'String-Pulling Technique' has such messy threading and disorganized flow of information. Any slight change requires exhausting effort to reconstruct. It is truly abysmal."

Zhuo Yilang was speechless.

He was a rising talent of the Lingjin Pavilion; everyone praised his exceptional natural gifts and considered his mastery of the String-Pulling Technique to be refined and perfect. How could someone suddenly belittle him as worthless?

Yet, the Senior before him looked entirely sincere and even offered helpfully, "Let me help you fix it."

***

Xie Yuzhu hid in the main house, cracking the window open just a sliver, watching the tranquil side room with agitation. It was daytime, and her Second Master was sleeping; with her own mediocre skills, she could certainly not defeat that Daoist from the Lingjin Pavilion. Her First Master's Thorn-Growing and Smoke-to-Ash techniques were passable, but if a fight broke out, it would surely draw others in the city, and then they would never be able to escape!

A hundred tragic outcomes flashed through her mind, causing her to break into a cold sweat. Her heart withered, and every moment felt as long as a year.

The door to the side room opened slowly. Xie Yuzhu’s heart leaped into her throat, her fingers digging indentations into the window frame.

She saw her First Master step out leisurely, followed by her eldest sister and the Lingjin Pavilion Daoist. Their faces lacked the hostility and anger she had imagined; instead, they were full of respect and courtesy, repeatedly expressing their gratitude.

Xie Yuzhu was baffled. She leaned out to observe the situation, but as soon as she did, her sister looked up to survey the surroundings. Terrified, Xie Yuzhu immediately pulled back and closed the window.

"Thank you for your guidance today, Senior. Are you here for the Nightmare Beast as well?" Xie Yuxiang asked as she walked outside, turning back to Ye Miwei.

Ye Miwei nodded. "That is correct."

"What do you intend to do with the Nightmare Beast?"

"I do not necessarily want it. Or, if you capture it, could I take a look? I wish to study it. There are still many mysteries I hope it can help me answer."

How could any sect agree to such a request? Xie Yuxiang and Zhuo Yilang did not know what to say, but Ye Miwei did not mind. She simply bowed to them and said, "It was a pleasure today. I enjoy solving problems."

The two bowed in return and expressed their thanks again. As the courtyard gate slowly closed, Ye Miwei stood behind it and said calmly, "Come back when you have more questions."

Her grey-black, misty eyes vanished behind the door. Xie Yuxiang and Zhuo Yilang gazed at the ordinary door for a long time before Zhuo Yilang finally spoke.

"There are many strange things about that Senior. She was able to see the structure of my technique through the Vision Stone. Yet, she is also... exceptionally brilliant—an unpolished gem, pure and innocent."

The improvement she suggested for the String-Pulling Technique could double the number of puppets he could control—a feat even his own master had never conceived of. She had thought of it and taught it to him so easily.

Only after he finished speaking did he notice that Xie Yuxiang seemed to be lost in thought, staring fixedly at the door, wondering what she was contemplating.

Zhuo Yilang waved a hand in front of her. "Yuxiang, what are you thinking about?"

Xie Yuxiang came to her senses, smiled slightly, and turned to leave. "Nothing, just a bit of regret. The affairs in Ningyu are complex; we only stole half a day of leisure, and I may not be able to visit this Senior again."

Zhuo Yilang walked alongside her toward Ningyu Town.

"By the way, how is your younger sister? Have you found her yet?" he asked casually.

Xie Yuxiang’s lips curved slightly, the image of that panicked window closing in the courtyard flashing through her mind.

She shook her head with a smile. "I asked Senior Brother Xunshuang to divine her whereabouts. She is still alive, well-fed, and energetic; she seems quite happy, in fact. Let her be for now."

"You are truly broad-minded for the eldest daughter of the Xie family."

"We practitioners of the path should be broad-minded."

As soon as the gate closed, Xie Yuzhu clutched her chest and scrambled out of the room, pulling at Cang Shu. "How was it? Did anything go wrong?"

Cang Shu said with a smile, "Hard to say."

"Hard to say?"

"Your First Master didn't reveal her identity, but she helped that Daoist from the Lingjin Pavilion improve his String-Pulling Technique, and she solved all the problems your sister’s senior assigned her to finish within half a year."

"..."

This development was completely beyond Xie Yuzhu’s expectations. She had assumed her sister had come to capture them, not to seek knowledge.

Cang Shu waved his sleeves and headed toward the house, saying, "Don't worry, I don't think they will come back here again. Your First Master is truly remarkable; you really should learn from her."

Xie Yuzhu looked at Cang Shu in confusion, then peered through the door at Ye Miwei, who was drawing various symbols on the floor of the side room.

"Still want to play Mahjong?"

Cang Shu’s voice drifted from the main house. Xie Yuzhu replied with a troubled face that she wouldn't play anymore—one grows through adversity and dies in comfort; she needed to refine her control of the String-Pulling Box.

In the narrow side room, Ye Miwei had spread the local gazetteers all over the floor. She lay over the yellowing paper, her gaze sweeping rapidly across the pages, whispering to herself. Behind her Vision Stone, the entire world was filled with blue symbols she had drawn; numbers and calculations danced and shifted rapidly across every wall, chair, and cabinet.

As the sunlight moved from the windowsill to her back, someone pressed down on the hand Ye Miwei was using to turn the pages. She moved the hand away unperturbed, only to see a plate of orange-colored items placed before her.

Ye Miwei’s eyes flickered. She looked up to see Granny Sun standing before her, bending over with the plate, smiling with the pride of someone seeking praise. "Little Yun, would you like to eat some persimmon cakes?"

The six persimmon cakes were arranged neatly on the plate, orange, round, and covered in a thin layer of white sugar frost.

Ye Miwei was surprised. She paused for a moment before taking a cake, sitting on the floor amidst the papers, and widening her eyes after the first bite.

It was sweet but not astringent, soft, and chewy—the best persimmon cake she had eaten in a long time.

"Granny, did you make these?"

Granny Sun sat in a nearby chair, her face blossoming into a smile, full of pride. "Yes... you are too thin, and you didn't want to eat anything except persimmon cakes, even though it isn't the season... I saw that you planted a persimmon tree behind the courtyard, and it actually bore fruit! So, I made these for you."

After a pause, Granny Sun looked at the gazetteers covering the floor and began to nag again.

"Little Yun, what are you doing? You haven't gotten up for so long; you'll ruin your health."

"I am calculating that mountain," Ye Miwei said, pointing to the lush, towering Chongdan Mountain outside the window.

Granny Sun squinted in confusion, so Ye Miwei tried to explain at length, talking about the spiritual meridians in the human body, the spiritual meridians in objects, and those in heaven and earth—how to distinguish between the normal and the abnormal, and how to calculate, design, and control them.

Ye Miwei spoke according to her own train of thought, leaping from one concept to another. Granny Sun became more confused the more she listened. Eventually, she clearly gave up on understanding and simply stared at Ye Miwei’s bright, burning eyes, lost in a trance.

Granny Sun’s eyes were already cloudy and yellowed. Sunlight filtered through her white hair, illuminating the deep furrows on her face. Those wrinkles were different from the ones on Ye Miwei’s face—they were the true marks of time. She was already old and frail, nearing the end of her days.

Yet, she smiled again, like a spark igniting in withered wood.

"Little Yun, you look so happy. Do you really like these things?"

Ye Miwei nodded.

"As long as you like them, that's all that matters. When you were little, you loved going to the fields to catch rabbits and birds. I would always drag you back to work, making you start the fire, mend clothes... I never let you do the things you wanted to do. Your mother was incapable and let you down. Now, you can do whatever you want; as long as you are happy, that is enough. If you are happy, your mother is happy too." Granny Sun’s eyes were filled with smiles, and her heart with regret.