Chapter 54

Nian Qi landed gracefully and took the rope from the villagers, securing it to a sturdy tree. He used three ropes, tying two at a lower height and the third at chest level. After fastening them, he coiled the ropes around himself and flew back across the ravine.

“All set?” he asked Ruan Qing in a low voice as he landed. “Was that enough to be the ‘Flying Grandmaster’?” Just before, when Ruan Qing had given him a nod and quietly said, “Go on, Flying Grandmaster,” Nian Qi hadn’t fully understood the term, but her tone and expression made the message clear. Ruan Qing subtly gave him a thumbs-up, hidden from the others.

Nian Qi smiled, then tied the other end of the ropes around a tree on his side. Turning to the villagers, he announced, “It’s ready.” The ravine was only seven or eight meters wide, so he didn’t have to shout—the mountains were so quiet that his words carried clearly across.

But everyone on the opposite side just stood there, as if turned to stone, staring blankly at him. Grandpa Qi was especially struck; the walking stick he’d been using to steady himself had fallen from his hands, unnoticed, as he gaped at Nian Qi.

“Uh…” Ruan Qing whispered. “Maybe you should go bring Grandpa Qi over. He’s, well, a bit up in years…”

Without hesitation, Nian Qi flew across again and respectfully offered, “Sir, let me carry you across.” And without further ado, he gently lifted Grandpa Qi in a bridal carry and brought him across the ravine.

Ruan Qing quickly supported Grandpa Qi’s arm. “Careful, Grandpa Qi. Steady now.” She was surprised to feel him trembling slightly and grew worried. “Grandpa Qi, are you all right?”

“Fine…” he managed, though his gaze remained fixed on Nian Qi, unable to look away.

Ruan Qing cleared her throat and called across to the other villagers, “Uncle Xiangyun, can you come across now?”

Nian Qi had arranged three ropes, with two secured low for their feet and one higher up to hold onto, making it much safer than trying to climb across a single rope. But the villagers continued standing there, staring with wide eyes.

Ruan Qing, afraid to break character, held back a smile and whispered, “Maybe you should…”

Nian Qi was ready. With barely a sound, he glided over again. The seven or eight meters was an effortless slide for him rather than a real “flight.” However, as Grandpa Qi, who hadn’t taken his eyes off him, saw Nian Qi “fly” again, he suddenly gasped and fainted backward!

The village’s younger men had all left to work in the cities, so those who came with Ruan Xiangyun, though middle-aged and in good health, were much older than Ruan Qing. Grandpa Qi was the oldest in the group, though still tough enough to hike the mountain trails faster than her.

Nian Qi, showing the utmost respect, looked at Ruan Xiangyun and said, “Sir, may I bring you across?”

He spoke in a distinct ancient accent from Guling City, about two hundred kilometers from Ruan Qing’s hometown. Though a bit different from Grandpa Qi’s dialect, it was understandable to the villagers and reinforced the impression of Nian Qi as a reclusive Taoist adept from a mountain temple.

Finally, something was actually playing out as Ruan Qing had originally envisioned. Ruan Xiangyun, feeling like he was in a dream, muttered a “Yes” in response, and even instinctively raised his arms for Nian Qi to carry him. But before anything else could happen, Ruan Qing’s anxious voice called from the other side, “Grandpa Qi! Grandpa Qi! Grandpa Qi, what’s wrong? Uncle! Uncle, hurry!”

Everyone snapped out of their daze and looked over to see Grandpa Qi sitting on the ground, half-leaning against Ruan Qing, seemingly unconscious. Realizing the urgency, Nian Qi quickly adapted. “Forgive me,” he said, and before Ruan Xiangyun could react, he grabbed his arm, gave a gentle push to his back, and sent him across.

Ruan Xiangyun’s only sensation was a force at his back, and then suddenly he was in the air, tilting forward with no choice but to brace himself. The arc of his “flight” wasn’t high; with just seven or eight meters to clear, Nian Qi’s push didn’t need to send him soaring. Ruan Xiangyun barely let out three cries of “Ahhh!” before he touched down smoothly, stumbling forward a few steps and coming to a stop in a sort of starting pose, perfectly balanced, without even a scratch. The force had dissipated by the time he landed, with his final steps due purely to momentum.

One by one, the rest followed suit, each letting out an “Ahhh!” as they were sent across. Only one person, slightly off-balance, didn’t land gracefully; he tumbled forward, landing on his knees and “bowing” to the mountain. Everyone else stayed on their feet, bewildered, as if in a dream.

Then Ruan Qing’s voice brought them back to reality: “Uncle! Uncle! Grandpa Qi fainted!” Her voice had a shaky, teary edge—she was genuinely scared. What had happened to the old man? Had Nian Qi’s dramatic feats triggered a heart attack? But she had checked on his health back in the village; he’d assured her with a hearty pat on his chest that he still climbed mountains to pick mushrooms every day! If she’d accidentally given him a fright, the guilt would be unbearable.

After “sending” everyone across, Nian Qi leaped back to Ruan Qing’s side. Ruan Xiangyun was just about to crouch beside Grandpa Qi when, in an instant, Nian Qi appeared in his spot, causing Ruan Xiangyun to stumble as he steadied himself.

Nian Qi knelt next to Grandpa Qi, assessing him carefully. Although he wasn’t a healer, his experience as an assassin had taught him a lot about the human body. A quick glance was enough to tell him it wasn’t serious. “Should be nothing major,” he said as he reached down to press the acupuncture point above Grandpa Qi’s lip.

It was the simplest resuscitation method, known by every village elder, but to Ruan Xiangyun and the others, it looked as if Nian Qi were performing a miraculous, almost divine healing.

Especially for Ruan Xiangyun, who had grown up on stories of the Wild Hermits’ Temple his father—yes, the same man lying unconscious before them—had filled his head with tales of its mysticism. As a child, he’d believed them; as an adult, he’d dismissed them. But now, with his own eyes witnessing these legends take tangible form, disbelief was no longer an option.

With a soft groan, Grandpa Qi opened his eyes.

Ruan Qing, frightened to tears, cried out, “Grandpa Qi, are you alright?”

Grandpa Qi’s eyes were unfocused at first, but after a moment he seemed to come to his senses. He looked at Nian Qi, his expression a mixture of joy and sorrow.

“Father! Father, are you okay?” Ruan Xiangyun asked hurriedly as Nian Qi stood up to give his place to his own son, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine—just got caught off guard for a moment,” Grandpa Qi reassured. He wanted to push his son’s head aside to get another look at the person in the worn-out, patched-up robe with a bun atop his head. This was exactly how he had imagined his master to look when he was a child!

Since the elderly man was unharmed, Ruan Qing was relieved. But since she was already in tears, she might as well make it worthwhile.

“Grandpa Qi, you scared me to death! I got frightened yesterday, too, and now again because of you! I’m going to die from all this!” Ruan Qing started sobbing even louder, putting on a pitiful show. “Yesterday, there was suddenly this huge storm, and I nearly fell off the mountain and died—scared me to death!” She let out exaggerated wails.

Finally, everyone remembered the actual reason they were here: for Ruan Qing, the daughter of Ruan Aihua—not that flying Taoist! Grandpa Qi and Ruan Xiangyun quickly comforted Ruan Qing, saying, “As long as you’re okay, that’s what matters. How’s your foot?”

“It still hurts a little, I can walk but can’t run,” she whimpered, doubling down on the drama.

Nian Qi stood off to the side, feeling very conflicted. He had crafted the entire scenario with the meticulous care, cautious strategy, and technical expertise one would use in facing a powerful opponent, believing there were no flaws. He hadn’t expected the biggest flaw to be… Ruan Qing. Her acting was so exaggerated that if she performed on the street, not a single person would toss her a coin; instead, they’d probably heckle her and drive her away.

Luckily, the identity of “Ruan Aihua’s daughter” gave her an inherent glow in the eyes of people like Grandpa Qi. Here was a delicate young lady from the city, startled and distressed in this remote mountain village, naturally needing comfort. Everyone quickly gathered around to console her.

Ruan Qing knew well when to pull back, and seeing everyone captivated by her “acting,” she wiped her tears and sniffled, “I almost died, really. And it was him who saved me!” She extended her hand, pointing at Nian Qi.

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes returned to Nian Qi. Grandpa Qi gestured with his arm, and Ruan Xiangyun hurriedly helped him stand. Once on his feet, Grandpa Qi didn’t rush to speak. Instead, he brushed the dirt off his clothes, adjusted his pants to nearly his chest, then took a step forward, clasped his hands respectfully, and asked with utmost courtesy, “May I know the master’s title?”

Nian Qi was moved. After two weeks of traveling here, someone was finally addressing him in a way he was familiar with, using the words and rituals he knew. He returned the greeting with a formal bow. Both clasped hands and bowing were acceptable forms of courtesy, but bowing held greater respect, usually used for elders. Grandpa Qi’s clasped hands were just a gesture, executed somewhat awkwardly, but Nian Qi’s bow—from the crossing of his hands and the angle of his outstretched arms to the slight forward tilt of his shoulders—was fluid and natural, as if from an ancient time.

The group felt as if they had collectively traveled back to another era.

With a slight incline, Nian Qi replied, “Elder, there’s no need for formalities. I am a layman without a Daoist name.”

“Then… are you from the Wild Hermits’ Temple?” Grandpa Qi asked hesitantly.

“I am,” Nian Qi confirmed.

Grandpa Qi asked, “Then how are you a layman?”

At this point, the storyline formally began.

Nian Qi replied calmly, “My grandfather was an abandoned child raised by the Wild Hermits’ Temple. He never received his Daoist crown or title and remained a layman himself.”

“I was adopted by my grandfather, so I am a layman as well.”

Although he called himself a layman and wore tattered clothes, there was something about the way his robe moved in the breeze, his calm gaze, and his serene yet grounded presence that gave him the air of a “master from beyond the mortal world” in everyone’s eyes!

His acting skill left Ruan Qing ten mountains behind.