I carefully looked up at him: “Master?”
I saw him looking down at me condescendingly, saying with contempt: “Do you think I need you to accompany me in taking a wife?”
This atmosphere was wrong. I immediately changed my tune: “No, no, of course not. Master is wise and mighty—whatever you do, we as juniors can only cheer from the sidelines. How would we dare presume to speak of ‘accompanying’?”
“Since that’s the case, go back and accept your punishment.”
Being punished by Master was practically my daily bread. Now I had learned not to ask why anymore, only saying: “Alright.” After a pause, I still wasn’t resigned: “But Master, I want a master’s wife…”
After speaking, I looked at him, he looked at me, and I said aggrievedly: “I understand. Disciple deserves death—copy twice as much.”
Copy again, copy again. And he wouldn’t let me have a brother copy for me. What was more important—copying books or attending class? Since Master wasn’t afraid that my copying books would delay my studies and embarrass him, I simply wouldn’t attend class. This time, the book was even more boring—”Records of the East Sea.”
The next day at noon, on Mount Baidi, I flipped through those materials recording aquatic products, spirit stones, and immortal trees, yawned, and slowly scrawled illegible characters on paper. Not far away, Master Uncle was teaching them to split stones with immortal arts on the mountaintop, and they were all practicing with great enthusiasm.
Since I couldn’t participate anyway and couldn’t finish copying, I might as well slack off. I propped up my chin, thinking of Master’s ice-block face from the previous night. Though frightening, it was quite good-looking. Such a wonderful master—why wouldn’t he marry a wife?
Although everyone feared and revered him, I knew that if he nodded his head, the girls wanting to marry him would probably line up from Azure Dragon Heaven to Vermillion Bird Heaven. Thinking of this, poetic inspiration struck me. I picked up Yinze’s brush and quickly composed a poem on paper.
After writing the first two lines, Master’s image in my memory became even clearer. His every frown and smile, every word and action, even the way he held chopsticks high, all flashed through my mind. Gradually, I somewhat understood—Master was unwilling to marry a master’s wife because Master was so ethereally noble that even the most immortal banished immortals couldn’t match him.
So I continued writing the last line, dotted some ink, and finished perfectly.
At this moment, someone called from ahead: “Senior Sister Luowei, what are you doing?”
The visitors were resting senior sisters. I stroked my chin and proudly handed them that paper. On it was written:
Exotic beasts and water-smoke surpass paintings, Tianshi’s thousand years of prosperity.
Gazing at the lonely peak’s brocade tower, my master dwells in the upper realm.
If you ask where the god has gone, traceless, invisible to mortal eyes.
Nightly dreaming of azure robes, misty, your heart ripples like smoke.
After reading the poem, Senior Sister burst out laughing: “Junior Sister, you’re truly mischievous. This poem is so apt—the Divine Lord is indeed so lofty, making people feel he can be gazed upon but not approached.”
I raised my eyebrows: “Master is a beauty.”
Junior Sister said, “My Heavenly Emperor, this poem is killing me with laughter. I haven’t even seen the Divine Lord in person yet, but I’m already dying to see his true face.”
In the past, if I asked Master any question and he felt I was meddling too much, he and punish me for it, and I would harbor some resentment. But recalling the previous night’s conversation, I wasn’t angry at all. Instead, I found Master’s coldness somewhat cute.
The more I thought about it, the more my heart felt like it was filled with sugar. I said with a grin, “Do you know? Yesterday, I said I wanted to accompany Master to find a master’s wife, but Master disagreed and scolded me. So boring.”
Senior Sister said: “Ah, Junior Sister, you really are a fearless newborn calf, actually daring to make such a request to the Divine Lord.”
I said, “So I got punished again. Look, I’m copying now.”
Junior Sister said, “Why won’t he marry a master’s wife?”
“I don’t know. Master is mysterious and unfathomable. I’m just a disciple—I wouldn’t dare speculate wildly.” I pursed my lips, but the corners of my mouth twitched with a smile.
I was truly a strange person.
I was the one who suggested Master take a wife, but after being rejected by him, I was inexplicably happy all day.
“Regardless, you wrote this poem wonderfully.”
After speaking, Senior Sister and Junior Sister read it again, then burst out laughing. Unfortunately, their laughter was too loud and attracted many disciples to watch. Before I could stop them, this poem had spread among them. Then, as expected, blame came pouring down one after another.
That paper with the poem made a round among the traitorous fellow disciples before finally being returned to me by Master Uncle. I took the paper, and he pointed at the title on it: “‘My Master the Beauty’?”
“I hesitated for a long time before giving up on ‘My Master the Divine Lord’…”
“Luowei, you’re becoming more and more disrespectful!” Master Uncle was indeed someone who had been with Master for years. When angry, he commanded authority without rage, making even the watching disciples step back.
I said guiltily: “I was wrong, Master Uncle.”
“If it were only the first three lines, I would say this is a good poem.” Master Uncle held the paper and looked at me sternly: “But you insisted on adding unnecessary flourishes—this strange title and this last line. Luowei!”
“Present…” I shuddered.
Master Uncle said sternly, “This is insubordination, fantasizing about your master. I must show this to the Divine Lord.”
Hearing this, all disciples, especially those who had seen Yinze, gasped. I knew Master Uncle was a resolute person, so I didn’t try to stop him anymore.
He took the paper and floated away. Everyone else also dispersed dejectedly, leaving only Junior Sister with some sisterly loyalty, coming over to pat my shoulder: “Actually, I think Master Uncle has no taste. The last line is the highlight.”
I waited like a condemned prisoner on the execution block until evening. Finally, someone came to report that Divine Lord Yinze was waiting for me in his residence and told me to return early. I went back to Cangying Residence with the heart of going to my death.
In Caiyue Pavilion, a pot of fragrant tea and a branch of fresh peach blossoms were placed on the table. When I entered, Yinze was sitting at a red wood round table, tasting tea and reading poetry—yes, the one I wrote. The more composed and calm he appeared, the more I trembled all over. I saw him shake the paper, glance at the poem, and say coldly: “Luowei.”
Calling me by name again—looks like I could die several hundred times today. I pulled a long face, squinted my eyes, walked beside him, and directly knelt: “Master, I was wrong. Beat me, scold me—I submit to your will.”
But he didn’t even look at me, only saying indifferently: “Do you think you’re still a child?”
I shook my head desperately like a rattling drum. Yinze said, “Do you think others will easily forgive you for doing these things?”
I still shook my head desperately. He said: “Setting aside this poem, I heard from your Master Uncle that you also spread among disciples the matter of my unwillingness to marry?”
I was so frightened that my hands turned cold. I immediately kowtowed three times on the ground, almost about to shed tears: “Master, I’m sorry! The disciple was foolish! Master Uncle was completely right—the disciple was insubordinate, not knowing the heights of heaven and earth. Please severely punish the disciple!”
For a long while, there was only silence above. I only heard the sound of a teacup lid opening and Yinze lightly stirring the tea. Tea brewed with early spring rainwater had always been his favorite. Finally, he slowly said, “I don’t understand why you wrote this poem. How did you come to write this last line?”
I was confused by the question and said, bewildered: “I just wrote it…”
“Have you had similar dreams?”