Chapter Thirty-One: The Pavilion of Literary Excellence

Pei Xiunian slept soundly, and when he woke, it was already late in the morning. By this hour, the court session was likely halfway through, and Pei Xiunian had no desire to attend. After all, he could claim he was under house arrest for reflection and thus barred from participating in state affairs.

Leisurely, he washed up under Xiao Qin’s attentive care, then enjoyed his breakfast in the stone pavilion outside the hall. Afterwards, he was about to summon a young eunuch to escort him to the Wen Zong Pavilion to borrow some cultivation manuals.

It was hardly surprising that no one from the court came to urge him to attend the session. At present, matters concerning the Third Prince were as untouchable as the real estate prices in Zhaoning—everyone steered clear of the topic. If Pei Xiunian didn’t appear personally, the venerable officials would naturally find artful ways to avoid any discussion of rewards or punishments regarding the Third Prince.

Some pretended they didn’t know whether the Third Prince had established his own residence; others feigned ignorance about his return to the capital, acting as though he had all but vanished. What’s more, this morning, a new presence graced the high seat to the left of Emperor Zhaoning—a grand empress dowager crowned in phoenix finery.

The moment she entered, her scrutinizing gaze swept through the assembly, as if to pierce the very earth beneath their feet. Even the censors from the Court of Judicial Review broke out in cold sweat, let alone the rest of the officials.

On the court floor, the assembly fell utterly silent.

Usually, during the review of memorials, someone would buckle under pressure, kneeling to confess to embezzlement or bribery. But on this day, with such a golden opportunity for impeachment, not a single soul dared to step forward to challenge anyone. In the end, Emperor Zhaoning dealt with matters as he saw fit, and the session ended swiftly.

After the officials withdrew like retreating tides, the empress dowager heaved a sigh and left the Hall of Supreme Harmony without looking back.

Not far from the hall, she encountered Suilan, her maid, who was about to return to report. The empress dowager straightened her sleeve and spoke softly, her red lips parting:

“Did you see Nian’er?”

Suilan answered directly, “Your Majesty, when I arrived, His Highness was not in Chengqian Palace. According to the maid in the Third Prince’s quarters, he had a full schedule today: first, he was to visit Wen Zong Pavilion to select a cultivation method, then to the Armory to pick out a favored weapon… He is not receiving visitors.”

At these words, the gentle, graceful face of the empress dowager showed a trace of frustration. She frowned, her lips twitching slightly.

“What is he up to now? One trip to Hangzhou, and now he dreams of roaming the martial world?”

“Then, Your Majesty…” Suilan ventured, “Should we go to Wen Zong Pavilion?”

The empress dowager stomped her foot and tore a soundproofing talisman at random. “Go? Back to the palace! Let him enjoy his carefree days. The Zhou Dynasty has no shortage of princes and princesses. Does he think that if I don’t support him, there will be no one else? Infuriating! I’ll return to my chambers and catch up on my sleep!”

“Don’t upset yourself, Your Majesty,” Suilan hurried to comfort her. “I heard that while in Hangzhou, His Highness met the Lady Jiang, the heroine. Your Majesty, having experienced youth yourself, must understand these young hearts. Perhaps the Third Prince truly developed a yearning for chivalry because of her?”

“In any case, with the dynasty’s fortunes as they are, the path of cultivation grows ever more perilous. Let him taste disappointment for a while. When he has no other choice, won’t he be forced to come to me?” With a noncommittal hum, the empress dowager said, “We’ll discuss this another time.”

—

Within Wen Zong Pavilion, Pei Xiunian wandered among towering bookcases, which housed every historical record, official document, and cultivation manual accumulated over the centuries of the Great Zhou. Yet the place lacked any obvious armed guards; its custodians were elderly men who seemed to be nearing the end of their days.

Their forebears might have once been criminals or ministers of fallen dynasties, but now they served as the scribes of Great Zhou. From birth to death, and for generations to come, their families would repeat this duty—an inheritance as unbroken as the old noble houses.

Pei Xiunian had intended to peruse historical records, seeking traces left behind by Qingqiu. But without an imperial edict from Emperor Zhaoning or another person with access, even as a prince, he could not read anything beyond cultivation materials.

Accompanied by a young page, Pei Xiunian leafed aimlessly through volumes that, in the martial world, could spark storms of bloodshed.

The page offered commentary with each scroll Pei Xiunian picked up:

“Your Highness, this method focuses on nurturing vital energy. Practicing it, one may never break through the first stage, but should you master it, your qi could swallow clouds and seas…”

“And this one is ideal for a scholar like yourself. Rooted in Confucian principles, it cultivates righteous energy. If you succeed, you could summon a great brush to inscribe your will upon heaven and earth…”

“Your Highness, this manual is formidable. It centers on nurturing intent and is similar to the sword canon studied by Lady Jiang. If you can find your true path, you might one day leap from nothingness to the seventh or eighth realm.”

Silently, Pei Xiunian returned the books to the page, whose hairline had already begun to recede despite his youth.

Of course, Pei Xiunian longed to cultivate—but he was not Jiang Yunhe. She could charge ahead with her eyes closed, but Pei Xiunian lacked that kind of blind resolve.

He wandered the pavilion for half a day, still unsure how to begin his path or which weapon to choose. Blade, spear, sword, halberd, axe, hook, fork—each had strengths and weaknesses, none suited to every occasion.

After reviewing numerous treatises on cultivation, Pei Xiunian realized that the wine vessel within his body was not a common byproduct of any stage, like forming a golden core. In all the books on the subject, not one mentioned anything remotely similar. It must be some private artifact brought with him in his journey to this world—its use yet unknown.

Bored, Pei Xiunian flipped through a manual on dual cultivation, committing every word to memory with practiced ease. Just because he remembered them didn’t mean he intended to practice them. These methods could not be combined; on the path to immortality, a single misstep could lead to madness and certain doom. Multiple disciplines meant courting disaster—internal chaos and death.

It was peculiar, however, that he found not a single manual on longevity.

Just as he lamented the difficulty of finding a suitable path, another page hurried to him, respectfully bowing before presenting an imperial edict.

It was from the emperor, but not one granting access to the entire Wen Zong Pavilion. Instead, it permitted him to visit the Office of Celestial Observation and have the Grand Astrologer craft a weapon to his liking.

Clutching the edict, Pei Xiunian turned to the page and asked, “Does the Office of Celestial Observation also have cultivation methods?”

The page nodded, then shook his head. “Your Highness, they do possess cultivation manuals. The Grand Astrologer himself practices the Formless Way—no fixed methods or forms. Perhaps that’s the feeling you seek? But they have never shared these methods with outsiders…”

Pei Xiunian’s interest was piqued—more so than with the dual cultivation methods. The traditional path of cultivating a single force could not surpass all others; the path of flexibility and transformation offered much greater room for maneuver.

With that, he set aside the manual, took his leave, and exited the Wen Zong Pavilion.

By now, noon had arrived. Outside, the empress dowager’s maid awaited him and bowed, “Her Majesty requests your company for lunch.”

Pei Xiunian waved her off as he walked by. “Please tell Her Majesty that I am going to the Office of Celestial Observation to meet the Grand Astrologer. We can discuss matters another day.”