Thanks to the merits of his yin-yang arts, Liu Xiaolou had been given a seat close to the front, and he watched the entire banquet unfold with a head full of questions.

The truth was, there wasn’t much to the banquet at all. After three rounds of wine and five courses, he finally realized that whatever “proceedings” there were had already been completed at the very start. Only then did it dawn on him: Red Conch Manor wasn’t looking for retainers. They were looking for a son-in-law.

The only reason he had been invited here, the only reason Granny Zheng had taken a liking to him, was that he had a bit of good looks. Nothing else mattered. For the Zheng family, the foremost consideration in choosing a husband, or a wife had always been appearance. And so, for generation after generation, every member of the Zheng family, male or female, was striking and commanding in looks.

The bride-to-be this time was Granny Zheng’s granddaughter, the second daughter of Lord Zheng. Her beauty was famous within three hundred li of Red Conch Mountain, which was why so many handsome young men had come to seek her hand. The only flaw, people said, was that her left foot had a slight limp. But that was easily overshadowed by her prestigious family background and her own cultivation.

At that point, Liu Xiaolou gave up the idea entirely. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to marry the Zheng family’s young lady; he would be more than willing to climb such a lofty branch. The problem was that he couldn’t compete in terms of family status, and he couldn’t afford the bride price.

If the Zhengs really did choose him, all he could come up with would be maybe twenty or thirty taels of silver. He had no spirit stones, no rare treasures. Even if he offered his Abyssal Blackstone Formation Plate, the Zhengs probably wouldn’t give it a second glance. As for the Groundbinding Spirit-Scattering Cord, that was evidence from a killing and couldn’t be shown lightly.

During the banquet, he caught bits of a conversation between the White-Robed Swordsman and the Scholar in Blue about the bride prices they had prepared. White Cloud Manor planned to offer ten magical weapons, ten types of rare spiritual materials, a hundred stone of spirit rice, three spirit beasts, plus five thousand taels of silver, eight hundred bolts of silk, five hundred mu of prime irrigated farmland, and a hundred spirit stones from their most prized stores.

The Scholar in Blue’s family had a bit less to offer. They didn’t have farmland or that much silver, but they were putting up three pairs of green-headed carrier pigeons. These spirit pigeons were said to be worth nearly a hundred spirit stones a pair. And that’s if you could even find any for sale.

Hearing this, Liu Xiaolou couldn’t help thinking of his own white goose. If he offered it as part of a bride price, what would it be worth? Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Big White in quite a while. When he went home this time, what new surprise would it have for him? Last time it had learned how to start a fire by drilling wood. Maybe this time it would be cooking meals on its own.

His thoughts drifted, and he lost interest in the rest of the banquet. He had no memory of the few cups of wine or the plates of snail meat he ate. None of the other handsome young men came over to toast him; he either drank in silence or joined the crowd in raising a cup to some name or event he’d never heard of.

His only regret was that he never saw the Zheng family’s young lady in person. Maybe she was hiding somewhere with a view of the banquet, quietly sizing everyone up and weighing the conditions of each suitor.

No matter how you looked at it, even if she somehow did choose him, could he really bring her back to Wulong Mountain? After all, just last year his good brother Wei Hongqing’s love match had fallen apart in the end. The Xia family would rather marry their daughter into the Zhanglong Sect as a concubine than send her to Wulong Mountain to be a bandit’s wife.

The banquet began at the hour of You (5–7 PM) and ended at the fourth quarter of the hour of Xu (7–9 PM). In the end, the result was both expected and a little unexpected. The expected part was Liu Xiaolou not being chosen. Yin-yang arts alone were nowhere near enough. The surprise was that the one the Zhengs kept was the “handsome talent” with the weakest cultivation: a member of the Ding family from Shuanglong Town, the very man Liu Xiaolou had previously looked down on with utter contempt.

At that moment, Liu Xiaolou had no interest in finding out what kind of background the Ding family had or how much bride price they had offered. He felt a little disappointed. Not because he hadn’t been picked as the Zheng family’s son-in-law; he’d never entertained such a luxury to begin with. What stung was that his careful plan to secure a position as a retainer at Red Conch Manor had gone up in smoke.

Still, that was the extent of it. Changing one’s status, climbing into a better life; when was that ever easy? A man gets used to disappointment after enough of it.

After the banquet, Liu Xiaolou took his leave. One of the stewards hurried after him and handed him a small red silk pouch, offering a few words of thanks before moving on to thank the other unsuccessful suitors.

Feeling the pouch, Liu Xiaolou guessed at once it was a spirit stone. He lingered for a bit, but when it became clear no further surprises were coming, he left Red Conch Manor. Outside the gates, he opened it and confirmed his guess. It really was a spirit stone. All his earlier disappointment vanished in an instant.

Not only had he eaten his fill of spirit snail meat and enjoyed a lavish feast, he’d even received a parting gift. That put him in a very good mood.

So what next. Keep investigating the source of that “clack-clack” sound from the jade hairpin, or find a way to earn some spirit stones?

Walking along the mountain path under the cover of night, Liu Xiaolou weighed his next move. Suddenly, he heard someone coming up behind him. When he turned, he saw a man in white. It was the White-Robed Swordsman.

The young man’s cultivation was much higher than Liu Xiaolou’s, and his pace was far quicker. In no time, he glided past Liu Xiaolou.

Their eyes met. Liu Xiaolou clasped his hands politely. “Heading this way too, brother? Heh…”

The White-Robed Swordsman spat. “Pah. Bad luck.”

Liu Xiaolou sighed. “Brother, was that really necessary?”

The White-Robed Swordsman had been intent on hurrying along, but hearing Liu Xiaolou talk back sent a surge of anger through him. He stopped in the middle of the road, blocking the way. “What do you mean, ‘necessary’? Bad luck is bad luck!”

Liu Xiaolou frowned. “I don’t recall having wronged you. Why speak so harshly?”

The White-Robed Swordsman snapped, “If I hadn’t been forced to share a courtyard with a bandit like you, do you think the Zhengs would’ve passed me over? And you say you’re not bad luck?”

“Brother, I understand you’re upset about being rejected. No need to take it out on others. As they say, meeting is fate…”

“Then I’ll take it out on you! See how you like that!” the White-Robed Swordsman shouted. A cold gleam flashed as he unleashed a three-foot sword qi, swinging down straight at Liu Xiaolou’s head.

Liu Xiaolou had heard him report his cultivation level before. The acupoints he’d opened were clearly far beyond his own. The Groundbinding Spirit-Scattering Cord wouldn’t hold him, and the Sanxuan Sword hadn’t yet formed its sword qi, so it was no match either. He had no choice but to throw out his Formation Plate.

The Abyssal Blackstone Formation was Liu Xiaolou’s best means of self-defense at the moment.

Though the White-Robed Swordsman was much stronger, once trapped in the formation, and with no knowledge of it, he couldn’t break free quickly.

Of course, it was only an illusory formation, and Liu Xiaolou was still three cultivation layers behind. He couldn’t hope to win with the formation alone. For now, the two were at a stalemate, but the longer it dragged on, the less Liu Xiaolou would be able to hold out.

The White-Robed Swordsman had come with high hopes. After being rejected, he was truly resentful. And so he took his anger out on Liu Xiaolou. Once inside the formation, his sword qi flew wildly, hacking and slashing without any real technique, just venting his frustration.

He chopped down a large patch of banana trees and green bamboo, then kicked open the folding doors and ornate latticed gates of the pavilion by the pond. Sword in hand, he stormed inside, determined to slash the entire building to rubble when suddenly, he froze.

There, behind the curtains of the bed, a graceful beauty in light silk was dancing. Wasn’t she the Zheng family’s young lady he had been longing for all along?

How... how was she dancing?

The White-Robed Swordsman stood dumbfounded for a moment. Then, almost without thinking, he reached down and dragged over a small embroidered stool to sit down slowly.

....

PS: Earlier, your cousin didn’t explain things well, which caused some confusion among fellow cultivators. To clarify: Cultivating the first three meridians counts as entering cultivation and is considered first layer Qi Refinement, also called “Martial Cultivator.” Cultivating the fourth meridian is second layer Qi Refinement. Liu Xiaolou is currently working hard to open the fifth meridian, which puts him at the third layer Qi Refinement.