Chapter 58

When Nian Qi came to see Ruan Qing, he had, of course, already taken a bath. He was dressed simply in a tank top and shorts, looking fresh and neat. When he descended the mountain, he had been wearing an old, distressed robe he had picked up from a second-hand market and further weathered himself. He also salvaged two tattered outfits from the ruins of a Taoist temple, washing them with ash and taking them along for effect.

After his bath that afternoon, Aunt Xiangyun handed him clean clothes, saying they belonged to her son, who was now studying at a university far away. The clothes fit Nian Qi a little snugly, emphasizing his slim waist and broad shoulders.

“It’s fine,” Nian Qi said. “If he dares to say anything, I have ways to shut him up.”

Ruan Qing, who was measuring his waist with her hands, looked up and warned, “No physical harm allowed.”

“I wouldn’t lay a finger on him. I can scare him into silence just fine,” Nian Qi replied confidently.

He added, “Don’t worry. When I bade farewell to Zaojiao Shifu today, I made a vow in my heart. Since I’ve come to your law-abiding society, I’ll follow the rules and be a good citizen. The past is the past.”

Ruan Qing couldn’t quite describe the feeling she got from his words. When Nian Qi spoke, there was a spark of hope in his eyes, as if he was genuinely looking forward to the future. It made her silently wish that life and society would not disappoint him.

Ruan Qing was always warm and unreserved in her affection, often initiating physical closeness. Nian Qi, after watching several TV dramas, had a rough understanding that this era placed little emphasis on female chastity. Premarital relationships, even intimacy, were considered normal. Yet, while he could easily let loose in casual situations, when it came to someone he wanted to marry, he found himself inexplicably cautious.

He kissed her hair gently. Holding her warm and delicate form in his arms stirred something deeply within him. In a low voice, he asked near her ear, “Just one little kiss—is that okay?”

Despite his promise of “just one,” Nian Qi wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tighter and tighter. Ruan Qing had to press her hands against his chest to create some space between them. Both were left breathless, their hearts racing.

But given the current circumstances, there wasn’t much they could do. Their relationship couldn’t be discovered by others.

“Go to sleep,” she said. “Tomorrow is important.”

Nian Qi let out a soft “Mm,” and, without hesitation, disappeared out the window again.

In truth, he had left so decisively because he feared losing control if he stayed any longer. Back in his assigned room, he lay down, his mind alternating between thoughts of Ruan Qing’s soft, graceful figure and his dream of obtaining an official ID, which would allow him to live openly as a law-abiding citizen—and to be with her without hiding. His heart and body both burned with longing.

The next day, Nian Qi wore the distressed Taoist robe from the day before.

Ruan Qing raised an eyebrow. “?”

Nian Qi tugged at the robe’s lapel. “Aunt Xiangyun rushed to wash and dry it for me.”

Aunt Xiangyun chuckled, “It wasn’t me; it was your uncle. He was in such a hurry to get it clean, wrung out, and dried because he knew you needed it today.”

They were going to meet some important people, and appearances mattered. Uncle Xiangyun, meticulous as ever, had even worried about what Nian Qi should wear. Upon seeing the other two outfits Nian Qi had brought down from the mountain, he had been horrified.

If the robe Nian Qi had worn before could be described as “vintage beggar chic,” the other two were downright ragged beggar garb.

Determined to make him presentable, Uncle Xiangyun had personally thrown the robe into the washing machine, wrung it dry, and hung it up to ensure it would be ready in time. Meanwhile, Aunt Xiangyun had handed over her son’s clothes for Nian Qi to wear temporarily.

Early in the morning, Ruan Xiangyun arranged for Nian Qi to wear his weathered robes again, insisting he present himself in his rustic, mountain-dwelling persona. “First impressions matter!” Ruan Xiangyun earnestly advised.

By late morning, several cars and people began to arrive. Township and county-level leaders showed up, accompanied by public relations staff who, in turn, brought along reporters from relevant media outlets. Researchers from historical studies departments also joined the gathering—after all, in an age rife with scams, verifying authenticity was paramount.

“It’s real! I swear on the honor of our Ruan family ancestors—it’s absolutely real!” Grandpa Qi passionately declared, spittle flying as he spoke with conviction.

The county delegation was led by a pragmatic deputy magistrate. After collecting statements from eyewitnesses, he examined Zaojiao’s handwritten text and handed it to experts for analysis. Then, he engaged in a direct conversation with Nian Qi.

The deputy magistrate asked questions, and Nian Qi answered without hesitation. The deputy noted Nian Qi’s accent with interest. “This sounds like a Lingcheng dialect. My hometown is Lingcheng.”

Nian Qi replied, “My grandfather’s master was from Lingcheng.”

Sometimes, life connects the dots in uncanny ways. Nian Qi’s choice of accent had been purely coincidental—out of the many dialects he knew, this one was closest to Grandpa Qi’s. But while sorting through items back at the Taoist temple, Nian Qi had stumbled upon name registries and administrative records, including evidence that Zaojiao’s master had indeed hailed from Lingcheng. It felt like divine providence.

After their chat, the deputy magistrate turned his attention to a representative from the Taoist Association, a middle-aged Daoist priest. Picking up on the unspoken cue, the priest leaned forward slightly and said, “I’ll need to test you.”

Nian Qi placed his hands on his knees, slightly bowing his head. “Please.”

As the two individuals, both with traditional hairstyles, began to converse, the atmosphere in Grandpa Qi’s living room instantly turned formal and steeped in antiquity. Everyone, without knowing why, felt a surge of tension.

No one was more anxious than Ruan Qing. Her heart pounded wildly as she thought, What if Nian Qi can’t answer? How do I explain? Should I step in and help cover for him?

To her surprise, the priest’s questions, which began with the basics of texts like the Three Officials Scripture and the Ancestral Masters Scripture, gradually deepened, touching on the Tai Shang Gan Ying Pian and beyond. He even asked about ritual instruments and Taoist customs.

Nian Qi answered every question, one by one. Not only did he recite scriptures, but he also chanted them in a melodic style. Once again, he shattered Ruan Qing’s understanding of him.

Of course, he wasn’t perfect—if he didn’t know something, he admitted it plainly: “I haven’t learned that yet.”

What he did chant, however, was mesmerizing, carrying an indescribable allure. The middle-aged priest nodded repeatedly, though he remarked, “Your intonation differs from ours.”

Nian Qi replied, “This is how I learned it.”

At one point, the priest interrupted him, saying, “That’s incorrect.”

“No, it isn’t,” Nian Qi firmly responded. “This is how I was taught.”

Startled, the priest asked, “Sing it again.”

Everyone tensed up—Ruan Qing, Ruan Xiangyun, and Grandpa Qi were holding their breaths. Grandpa Qi even feared that his breathing might disrupt Nian Qi’s performance. If the Taoist Association deemed Nian Qi a fraud, it would be a collective disaster.

Unexpectedly, the priest became completely engrossed in the chanting. Forgetting that the deputy magistrate was still waiting, he eagerly requested that Nian Qi transcribe this version of the chant.

Ruan Xiangyun immediately fetched paper and pen. The paper was official stationery, with a red letterhead reading “XX City, XX County, XX Township, XX Village,” and neatly spaced horizontal lines. The pen was a fountain pen.

As a proper cadre, one couldn’t possibly go without a fountain pen or stoop to using a regular ballpoint pen like the masses. Naturally, Nian Qi knew how to use a pen—he’d already learned during his time at Ruan Qing’s house. But who was Nian Qi? A performance-level master of deception, rivaling the best in the underworld!

When he took the pen, he hesitated deliberately, glancing toward Ruan Xiangyun with an expression of mild confusion. Ruan Xiangyun, fully attuned to the situation, immediately caught on. “Do you need a calligraphy brush? I’ve got one!”

Ruan Xiangyun, as a somewhat cultured man himself, occasionally practiced calligraphy. He hurriedly fetched his brush and ink, setting them up for Nian Qi. With the stationery provided, Nian Qi turned the lined paper horizontally so the lines ran vertically, picked up the brush, and began to write. He wrote vertically, right to left, in traditional Chinese characters.

The scriptures he transcribed from memory were unfamiliar to the Taoist Association’s visiting priest. By this point, everyone present was nearly convinced—Nian Qi was authentic, not a fraud.

Ruan Qing finally let out a long breath of relief.

The priest was visibly delighted as he held the transcribed scripture in his hands. “I’ll take this back to study carefully.”

The deputy magistrate then stood up. “Shall we head to the site for an inspection?”

Prepared for the occasion, he wore sneakers, fully ready for practical fieldwork. A leader who truly got things done.

With that, the group began to rise. The middle-aged priest, while gathering the papers, casually asked Nian Qi, “Have you been conferred the Daoist crown?”

“No,” Nian Qi replied.

“Do you want to be crowned?” the priest followed up.

“No need,” Nian Qi answered firmly.

In Taoism, such matters are often treated casually—whether one wishes to receive the crown or not is entirely up to personal preference. The faith does not rely on persuasion or aggressive evangelism. They certainly weren’t distributing pamphlets about the karmic cycle of good and evil.

The priest then asked, “What’s the temple’s name?”

“Zisun Temple,” Nian Qi responded.

“Not staying?”

Nian Qi’s gaze was resolute. “I want to leave the mountains and see the world beyond.”

Their exchange was cryptic to most of those present, but neither seemed overly concerned, treating the conversation as if everything was perfectly normal. No one suspected any issues.

As the group prepared to enter the mountains for their inspection, Ruan Qing naturally wanted to join them. But Grandpa Qi quickly stopped her. “You’d better stay here. You’re too slow.” He silently pleaded with her not to slow them down.

Ruan Qing knew he was right. Her injured foot had only just recovered, and even at her best, she couldn’t keep pace with Grandpa Qi on the rugged mountain paths.

Understanding her limitations, she obediently agreed. “I’ll wait for you all to return.”

Grandpa Qi, however, felt conflicted. Normally, he would have been thrilled to host the daughter of Ruan Aihua. Her presence brought him pride, and the villagers envied his family’s close ties to hers. But now, his mind was preoccupied entirely with Nian Qi.

To make things more peculiar, the interactions between Ruan Qing and Nian Qi had been odd. Ruan Qing always seemed to have a slightly instructive tone when speaking to him, and Nian Qi—this lofty figure whom Grandpa Qi revered as a sage from the mountains—appeared strangely deferential, nodding to her every word.

It left Grandpa Qi feeling inexplicably irked. Though he couldn’t quite articulate why, he just wanted Ruan Qing to head back home and leave this remote village behind. He and Nian Qi belonged to these mountains.

The expedition to the Wild Hermits’ Temple would require an overnight stay. Before the leaders arrived, Ruan Xiangyun had briefed everyone thoroughly, ensuring they were mentally prepared and brought appropriate supplies like sleeping bags. After counting the people and vehicles, the group got ready to set off.

Grandpa Qi, as bold as ever, stepped up to claim a spot on the village vehicle.

“Dad, maybe you should—” Ruan Xiangyun hesitated.

“Scram!” Grandpa Qi barked, cutting him off.

With that, Grandpa Qi triumphantly boarded the vehicle.