Purple Green Mountain.
The mountain wasn’t particularly steep or perilous, but it possessed a majestic, imposing, and profound presence.
The gate, built from enormous blocks of bluestone, was simple yet grand. Worn by wind and rain through the ages, its surface had become smooth and lustrous.
Simple cloud patterns and auspicious beasts were carved upon it, the details revealing a deep, time-worn heritage.
Ancient, towering trees flanked the gate, lush and verdant. Cloud and mist coiled and dispersed around the mountainside, adding to its ethereal atmosphere.
At this moment, dozens of people had already gathered outside the Martial Arts Academy’s mountain gate.
Most of these people were young and dressed in a variety of attire; some wore fine silks and brocades, while others wore plain linen robes.
But without exception, their auras were composed and their gazes sharp. They were clearly talented individuals with cultivation, and all had at least achieved the rank of Martial Scholar—the minimum requirement for admission.
The crowd was not boisterous but rather quiet, all eyes focused on the octagonal pavilion with its upturned eaves beside the mountain gate.
Inside the pavilion, two elderly men sat cross-legged, facing each other. Between them was a stone-carved chessboard upon which black and white pieces were scattered like stars, the game apparently at a stalemate.
Both elderly men had white hair but youthful complexions. They wore wide, simple robes—one in gray, one in brown—their expressions focused, as if the outside world were of no concern to them.
Though it was unintentional, the bearing they naturally exuded kept the proud young people outside from daring to show the slightest disrespect, leaving them to wait patiently.
Chen Shouheng and Zhou Shuwei dismounted, wordlessly tied their horses to a distant hitching post, straightened their robes, and quietly joined the back of the line.
Time slipped by quietly as the sun climbed higher.
Some in the crowd began to show their impatience, muttering under their breath or glancing frequently toward the pavilion, but in the end, no one dared step forward to hurry them.
After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the game inside the pavilion finally reached a resolution.
The gray-robed elder held a piece, pondering for a long time before finally placing it down. He clapped his hands and chuckled. "Brother Anshi, you let me win."
The brown-robed elder stared at the board for a moment, then shook his head with a wry smile. "Brother Mengjing, your skill is exquisite. I’ve lost by a stone again. Ah, well."
The brown-robed elder then looked up, his gaze sweeping over the waiting crowd. A warm smile graced his face, and his clear voice reached every person’s ear. "My apologies for the long wait. I am Zhao Anshi, and I guard this mountain gate.
"Today, our He Niu Martial Arts Academy opens its doors to new students. Anyone holding a valid Scholar’s Certificate issued by the Government Office may seek admission. You need only present your certificate to me for inspection, after which you may step through the mountain gate. Whether you are ultimately accepted will depend on your own fate and ability."
As soon as he finished speaking, those who had grown impatient began to stir.
Those at the front of the line rushed forward, each respectfully handing over their Scholar’s Certificate.
Zhao Anshi took each one, gave it a brief glance, and nodded for the person to pass.
Upon receiving their certificates back, the young people eagerly turned and strode across the ancient threshold, their figures quickly vanishing into the Cloud Mist beyond the gate.
Zhou Shuwei waited until everyone in front of her had gone before she slowly stepped forward. She gave a graceful bow to Zhao Anshi in the pavilion, her tone respectful but retaining the poised composure of a young lady from a Noble Family. "This junior is Zhou Shuwei. Might I be so bold as to ask, Senior, are you by any chance Lord Zhao, Zhao Anshi, the Imperial Censor?"
Zhao Anshi, who was clearing the chessboard, paused. He looked up, studying Zhou Shuwei with a hint of surprise.
He then stroked his beard and chuckled, his smile growing warmer. "In a tranquil place like this, out in the mountains, there’s no such person as Zhao Zhongcheng. Nowadays, I’m just an old gatekeeper for the He Niu Martial Arts Academy. Zhao Anshi, or Old Zhao. And you know of me, little girl?"
Certainty bloomed in Zhou Shuwei’s heart, and her tone grew even more deferential. "My father’s name is Wenqian. He once served as the Extraordinary Minister of the Host and Guest Department in the Ministry of Rites. I have often heard my father speak of your great character at home and have long admired you. Seeing you today, I took the liberty of confirming your identity."
"Zhou Wenqian?"
Zhao Anshi was taken aback for a moment before realization dawned on him. His smile broadened, tinged with nostalgia. "Oh! So you’re Wenqian’s daughter. To think you’re all grown up and have become so lovely. Back when I was in the Ministry of Rites, I was your father’s direct superior for two and a half years. How time flies..."
"I am honored by your concern, Senior."
Zhou Shuwei replied, then stated her purpose. "I have come here to gain admission to the He Niu Martial Arts Academy to pursue my cultivation. I hope I may receive your guidance in the future, Senior."
"Of course! The child of an old friend should naturally be looked after. Besides, your father... Ah, let’s not speak of it."
Zhao Anshi sighed, pondered for a moment, then took a lustrous, translucent Mutton Fat Jade Pendant carved with cloud patterns from his robes and handed it to Zhou Shuwei. "Take this Jade Pendant. After you are successfully admitted and settled in, you may come find me at Jingsi Studio."
"Thank you, Senior!"
Zhou Shuwei accepted the Jade Pendant with both hands and carefully put it away.
Only then did Zhao Anshi’s gaze fall upon Chen Shouheng, who had been standing silently to the side, his expression inquisitive.
Zhou Shuwei turned to introduce him. "This is my family’s... Guard, Chen Shouheng. He has come with me to enroll."
Chen Shouheng stepped forward and bowed with cupped hands, his bearing neither servile nor arrogant. "This junior, Chen Shouheng, greets Senior Zhao."
At the same time, he presented his own Scholar’s Certificate.
Zhao Anshi chuckled. "I doubt he’s just a simple Guard, is he?"
Zhou Shuwei hesitated for a moment before replying softly, "Senior... you have a discerning eye."
Zhao Anshi took the certificate, his gaze lingering on Chen Shouheng for a moment. He habitually swept his Divine Sense over him but detected nothing unusual.
He glanced at the certificate, nodded, and handed it back, saying gently, "Alright, go on in together. The path ahead is one you must walk yourselves."
"Yes. Thank you, Senior," they replied in unison.
Zhou Shuwei bowed to Zhao Anshi once more before turning with Chen Shouheng to step across the threshold of the mountain gate.
After their figures disappeared into the Cloud Mist beyond the gate, the gray-robed elder in the pavilion, who had been silent all this time, gazed thoughtfully in the direction of the gate and murmured to himself, "Interesting."
Zhao Anshi, who was about to reset the chessboard, heard him and asked, puzzled, "Brother Mengjing, what is so interesting?"
The gray-robed elder chuckled and asked in return, "Brother Anshi, was all your attention just now on the Zhou Family’s girl? Did you not take a closer look at the young man behind her?"
Zhao Anshi paused, recalling. "His cultivation is at the Spirit Realm First Level. His foundation is fairly solid, which is decent for his age, but... it’s still just average, wouldn’t you say?"
The gray-robed elder shook his head. "His Cultivation Realm is indeed average. But his cultivation itself follows the path of the Theravada Secret Transmission... a path we haven’t seen in the Central Plains for many years."
Realization dawned on Zhao Anshi, and he laughed. "Ah, I’d forgotten. You, Duan Mengjing, served as the Governor of An Nan in your early years and also practiced a Cultivation Technique from the Southern Border. What? Feeling a fondness for talent? Thinking of making an exception and taking him on as a student?"
Duan Mengjing gave a self-deprecating laugh and picked up a chess piece, turning it over in his fingers. "I’ve grown accustomed to my idleness. Guarding this mountain gate and playing a few games of Go with you, Brother Anshi, is life’s greatest pleasure. Taking a student? Far too taxing. I’ll pass."
Zhao Anshi, knowing his friend’s disposition, laughed heartily and turned his attention back to the chessboard.