Chapter Fifteen: First Hearing of the Moon-Washing Academy

With Qingqing, the generous benefactor, now living with them, the lives of Yu Chaoran and his grandson improved considerably. At least Yu Lang no longer needed to rise before dawn to sell steamed buns, granting him ample time to discuss martial arts with his grandfather. Though breaking through his dantian remained elusive for the time being, his proficiency in combat techniques advanced rapidly.

Yu Chaoran’s attitude in teaching Yu Lang this time was markedly different from before. Previously, he had hoped Yu Lang would practice martial arts primarily for health, imparting only heavy, body-strengthening moves. After surviving two calamities, he realized his grandson needed not just self-defense, but the ability to defeat enemies. Thus, this time, he spared nothing, bestowing upon Yu Lang every lethal technique he had gleaned from his years on the battlefield.

Qingqing’s situation was similar to Yu Lang’s. Although she had opened her dantian and her “Nourishing Sword Qi” had reached the initial stage of Hundred Refinings, she had little actual combat experience and was as much a blank slate as Yu Lang. Li Bai’s purpose in teaching her the “Nourishing Sword Qi” was not to mold a heroine, but to improve her frail constitution with inner energy. Learning alongside Yu Lang, she gained many insights.

Yu Lang, with silver in hand, went once to the county jail, hoping to use money to ransom his fallen comrade, Yu Dan, but to no avail.

The new jailer, having witnessed Yu Lang’s prowess in the prison, dared not be negligent and explained with a forced smile, “That madman, missing limbs, simply vanished on his own—it's a mystery in our prison. If you don’t believe me, ask the other guards or inmates.”

“A living person just disappeared in the jail, and Magistrate Xie does nothing?” Yu Lang asked.

“He tried. There was a whole batch punished at the time, that’s how I got promoted to jailer. But the man simply vanished. No matter how they investigated, nothing turned up, so they gave up.”

The jailer’s words rang true. Besides, Yu Dan, who had nothing left to squeeze from, was not worth their trouble. Such logic was bleak, but that was reality. Yu Lang, not knowing what happened, could only hope his first prison companion had survived against all odds. After all, Yu Dan possessed certain mysterious qualities and likely had his own fate.

Returning home, Yu Lang had just poured himself a bowl of water when Yu Chaoran entered, beaming with delight. “Lang’er, Moon-Washing Academy is recruiting new students. You must prepare well.”

“Moon-Washing Academy?” Yu Lang was unfamiliar with the name.

Qingqing, nearby, sneered, “You grew up in Yangzhou, yet don’t know Moon-Washing Academy?”

Yu Lang asked curiously, “What’s so special about this little academy? Did it produce several top scholars?”

“Not exactly. Moon-Washing Academy has produced many illustrious heroes—some guarding the nation’s borders, some serving in court, some renowned as chivalrous figures. But those might not appeal to you. I think what interests you most is the quota for ‘Washing the Meridians and Tempering the Marrow’…”

Yu Lang was indeed intrigued. What troubled him most these days was breaking through his dantian. He had scoured all available texts, seeking a biological angle, but found nothing, and it had become a persistent worry.

He hurriedly asked, “Does ‘Washing the Meridians and Tempering the Marrow’ allow ordinary people to break through their dantian?”

Qingqing nodded with a smile. “But as I told you before, if you discover a way to forcibly break through the dantian, countless noble sons will flock to your door. That quota is coveted by many. Moon-Washing Academy’s method not only allows non-practitioners to open their dantian, but can even let those who’ve already opened it restart, gaining exceptional cultivation potential. Only the first-place winner in the academy’s entrance competition earns such a qualification.”

Yu Lang’s expression grew serious. “How many people participate in Moon-Washing Academy’s entrance competition?”

Qingqing raised three fingers. “Moon-Washing Academy only opens its doors once every three years, accepting two hundred disciples each time. At every entrance competition, at least three thousand eligible youths participate.”

“First place among three thousand,” Yu Lang murmured, feeling a heavy burden upon his shoulders.

With three months left until the academy’s entrance competition, Qingqing and Yu Lang both plunged into intense preparations. Moon-Washing Academy advocated teaching all classes, admitting qualified women as well. This was Qingqing’s favorite aspect. The Tang imperial family, descended from the Longxi Li clan, had some nomadic blood, and their conduct was bold. With the rise of Wu Zetian, women’s social status soared above both previous and subsequent eras. Though Moon-Washing Academy’s policy was progressive, it was not shocking.

Yu Lang had sparred with Qingqing frequently. He excelled in the flexible application of martial arts, but always suffered from his inability to gather energy in his dantian. Whether in explosive power or sustained force, he was far inferior to Qingqing. Without resorting to cunning tactics, their normal bouts ended with Yu Lang defeated in fifty moves at most.

With only three months remaining, Yu Lang’s anxiety grew. Cultivation realms were divided into Hundred Refinings, Sea Wandering, and Void Breaking, each with upper, middle, and lower grades. Yet he lagged far behind even Qingqing, who was only at the lower grade of Hundred Refinings. How could he compete for first place among three thousand?

As Yu Lang hurried along, the crack of a whip startled him from his thoughts.

Turning back, he saw the square-faced scholar Li Wenshan, who had seized the Yu family estate days ago. Li Wenshan, sleeves rolled up, was fiercely whipping a muscular black man.

Yu Lang thought this must be a common “Kunlun slave” of the Tang era. With the empire strong and maritime trade frequent, some foreign slave owners brought black slaves to Tang China, where they became known as Kunlun slaves.

The Kunlun slave was scourged until his skin split, but only gritted his teeth, refusing to beg for mercy.

Yu Lang felt discomfort and greeted Li Wenshan with a smile, “Uncle Wenshan, what did this Kunlun slave do to warrant such a beating? Aren’t you afraid of hurting your wrist?”

Li Wenshan laughed, “Ah, it’s Yu Lang! Haven’t seen you in a while. Heard you and your grandfather moved to Ping’an Alley—oh, that place is filthy. Are you used to living there? You’re welcome to stay at my place anytime, your old house in Jixian Alley.”

Yu Lang suppressed his anger and waved, “Thank you for your concern, Uncle Wenshan. My grandfather and I are quite comfortable in Ping’an Alley. Please show some kindness—let bygones be bygones. This Kunlun slave looks honest enough. Is there some misunderstanding?”

Li Wenshan continued, “This beast can work with the strength of three men, but eats like five. How infuriating! I’d rather raise a pig—at least I could butcher it and cook the meat. Today, I’m beating him until he vomits up all the rice he ate at lunch.”

Yu Lang stopped Li Wenshan, “Since Uncle Wenshan dislikes how much this Kunlun slave eats, why not sell him to me?”

Li Wenshan’s eyes gleamed with a scheming light. He immediately put on a stern face and demanded twice the market price in silver.

Yu Lang didn’t bother haggling. Confident he could repay Qingqing with his own abilities, he handed over the silver without hesitation. Li Wenshan, greedy but easy to deal with when money was involved, immediately produced the necessary documents. Without these papers, the Kunlun slave might be seized by the authorities as an undocumented person.

The neighbors who watched all sighed at Yu Lang’s compassion, but worried that continually giving way to Li Wenshan would lead to trouble. They all knew Li Wenshan was a bully who only feared the strong—give him an inch and he’d take a mile.

Yu Lang originally intended to set the Kunlun slave free, but reconsidered. The slave’s striking appearance would make him a target for capture again, so Yu Lang brought him home.

The Kunlun slave knew only rudimentary Chinese, but after expressing his gratitude, quickly began helping Yu Chaoran with chores. He spoke little, but his eyes showed deep sincerity and gratitude toward the Yu family, always taking the lead in heavy work.

Qingqing grew fond of the simple-minded Kunlun slave, and at the dinner table, finding herself unable to outwit Yu Lang in banter, switched to teasing the slave.

Yu Lang had a peculiar habit—he liked naming people. Even in the life-and-death moments of the jail, he had named Yu Dan; now he gave the Kunlun slave the name Obaba.

Obaba seemed very pleased with this name. He flashed his white teeth and performed a native soul song for Yu Lang, who covered his ears and fled—the singing was, frankly, atrocious. Qingqing, meanwhile, was doubled over with laughter, finally having found a way to best Yu Lang.

Yu Chaoran sipped his tea, watching the three of them play and laugh, feeling deeply comforted. Lang’er was growing up quickly and acting responsibly; it seemed his old bones could finally rest in peace.

Having raised two young masters, Yu Chaoran felt he had fulfilled Xu Jingye’s trust. He went to his room, took out a letter from a wooden box, and, with trembling hands, stroked the words on the paper, weeping bitterly.