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Wreath of Lilies, Cauldron of Poison
Chapter 50: Wo de lǎopéngyou (My old friend)

Chapter 50: Wo de lǎopéngyou (My old friend)

Chapter 50

Wo de lǎopéngyou

(My old friend)

Martell opened his eyes suddenly and saw the close-up of Yao-er’s face.

The little thing was curious about the new addition to the group and had been crawling all over him while his consciousness was dragged inside his soul through the Memory Bestowal.

“AAAH!” he leapt back in surprise flinging the silkworm away.

Needless to say, like many other caterpillars, Yao-er’s face was not very pleasant to look at.

The little silkworm flipped itself a few times before landing on Connie’s hair and disappeared inside huffily. The girl was drinking a cup of wine by a candle when she heard the scream and commented. “Come off it. Yao-er wouldn’t hurt a fly…unless I told it to.”

The candlelight threw her shadow to far wall, making her look bigger than she was.

“That…that was real?”

“Every bit of it,” Connie replied succinctly. “What did you experience?”

He then told her of his experience. Still slightly bewildered by the strange experience.

“…what was that heavenly instrument? I have never heard something so…peaceful.”

“That’s a guqin. One of the Four Arts. But you are veering, continue.”

“That is all…ah, and then he said…that I should not lose hope.”

“What do you mean?” Connie blurted out.

“A - Autumn Rain Cicada looked at me and said that I should not lose hope.”

“But that’s…impossible. That is just a memory! The past cannot interact with the present. Are you sure you are not imagining things?”

Martell bit his lips, his ears drooping down. “I – I don’t know. That was my first experience with something like that.”

Connie rubbed her chin and nodded firmly. “Forget that for now then. Tell me, what move did you learn from the memory?”

“The Light of Buddha Shines Over All Men.”

“The first art of the Golden Lotus of Prajnaparamita. It has a very strong purifying effect,” Connie explained. “That heretic monk once used that move to purify thousands of undead terrorizing a town in one swoop.”

“T-that’s amazing!”

Connie put down her cup and sidled over to the side. “But knowledge alone will not help. Now, it is time we start with your first cultivation. Take off your clothes.”

“M-my clothes?” Martell said, almost a squeak.

“Yes. All of them. I need to open your acupoints. Can’t guarantee 100% success if I cannot see your body,” Connie laughed mockingly. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested in your body. I did this with Ethel too. I can do it with medicines, but it will slow your cultivation.”

“I…I see,” Martell began shedding his clothes. When he was finished, he stood before her awkwardly.

She dispassionately examined his body, nodding occasionally as she prodded at some parts of him.

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“Alright. Now I will stimulate your body so it can begin to cultivate. Sit with your legs crossed and your hands resting on your lap with your palms facing up.”

After he did so, Connie poked on some acupoints on his back to open the pathway so that the energy could flow freely. She took out a few of the Fire Essence Crystal she had left and slowly transferred the energy within into his body via her palm on his back.

“Can you feel the heat from my hand? Imagine the heat flowing across every part of your body. Circulating through your blood stream. Into your heart, your lung, your liver, your brain. Every time you feel like something blocking the flow, concentrate on it, imagine the heat breaking through it.

“M…Mmmm…!”

Martell panted as felt his blood flowing faster, circulating around his body. He could hear the blood surging inside his body like a terrifying maelstrom. The feeling of the heat in his body was so comfortable, and every time the heat broke through an obstacle, he could not help but moan.

Connie sweated as she kept her concentration. The flow must not be stopped, otherwise everything would be for naught.

Finally, the beastfolk boy felt a lump growing on his stomach and he coughed up a black and rank sputum.

“Gagh! W-what is that?”

“Good, the process is success. How do you feel now?”

“I feel…light. Like I can run 2 kilometers without stopping!” Martell said as he jumped a few times.

“That is sad, we will have to increase your stamina,” Connie said. “As you cultivate, the power of purification will grow stronger within you. You would learn more moves with subsequent memory and eventually you will be able to be free of your curse.”

“Thank you, Mistress!”

Connie did not share his newly found enthusiasm and simply asked. “You still remember the price?”

“Yes!” Martell answered with a vigorous nod.

“Hm. Good. If you break it, I will cripple your cultivation and your body personally. I will be your acting teacher, but your true teacher will still be Vagabond Lotus Monk. Any disrespect to his name would be punished accordingly.”

“Yes, Mistress!”

“Alright. Go to bed. Tomorrow, you will skip breakfast and fast for the whole day until I tell you to eat. No drinking and no eating until I say so. Do you understand?”

“Yes,”

“Good. Go.”

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With the boy descending from the attic, the blonde-haired girl was left alone there. Her gaze was still, thoughtfully gazing at the flickering candle in front of her.

“Jin Lianfeng…Wu Qiuyu,” Connie mouthed the names of his deceased friends as she put the cups on the table. These were the real names of Vagabond Lotus Monk and Autumn Rain Cicada. Names that were only told to bosom friends and true companions.

These were two of the strangest partners in Jianghu. One was a righteous monk while the other was a master of an evil sect. The former a beautiful young man and the other a graceful middle-aged man. The two shared an ambiguous relationship with each other. After the monk’s unfortunate death in the hands of his fellow monks, the Autumn Rain Cicada cried out his last cry in the midst of the corpses of his enemies.

The sound of wine being poured filled the silence in the room. Once. Twice. The first cup was filled almost to the brim while the other only halfway. Despite his fierce look, Qiuyu was a lightweight.

Finally, she poured one for herself. After which she gazed into the dark red liquid inside. She played with the cup wordlessly before putting it on the table.

“I have found your successor. Though his morals are very questionable.”

“I don’t know why you chose such a boy to cultivate the Golden Lotus of Prajnaparamita. Is it to spite on those hypocrites from the Righteous Factions? Or is it because you wish to prove that cultivation paths have no bearing on the nature of the men who cultivated it?” Connie threw her gaze at her right, as if speaking to someone. The shine in her eyes were soft and melancholic.

“Alas, just as the spring flowers cannot greet the winter snow, I can no longer hear your answer, for you are long gone. Just as she had. Just as many of them had.”

“Heheh…listen to me being nostalgic,” Connie said to the two cups in front of her. “But for both of you to be inside the memory…”

“Hah. I guess this is a sort of fate too. Your friendship never failed even after death,” she took her cup of wine and proposed a solitary toast, raising her glass towards the half-moon peeking from the small window in the attic.

She closed her blue eyes, and for a moment, she felt as if she had returned to that reckless youth who accepted the two’s invitation for a drink at the Gate of Eighteen Immortals. Sharing stories of their battles and romances.

“As time passes, our memories become gauze. Our wounds become dust and the song of early spring will be forgotten. Ganbei. Wo de lǎopéngyou. Ganbei.”

She drained her cup and for once, she felt like getting drunk. Swollen arms and bruised ribs be damned.

Unbeknownst to the girl drowning in melancholy, a pair of catlike eyes were blinking right below the attic.

With his keen beastfolk ears, it was easy for Martell to eavesdrop on his Mistress’s monologue. And despite his brokenness, the deep emotions within each word said were not lost to him.

Though the boy was could read and write, he did not have the skill and knowledge to explain the feelings he experienced at this moment. The frustration kept him up even after he laid down his head on the fluffy bed.