Heaven Official's Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu (Novel) Vol. 2(9)



That was true. No one could say that the Feng Xin and Mu Qing of today were personalities that were easy to get along with. Xie Lian started chuckling too.

“How are things between the three of you? Have you spoken with them yet?” Jun Wu asked.

The Heavenly Emperor himself never entered the communication array and thus was naturally unaware of the buzzing chitchat that went on among the officials.

“We spoke a few words,” Xie Lian replied.

“It’s been so many years, and yet you have only spoken a few words?” Jun Wu inquired. “Ah, yes. I heard that when you ascended this time, you destroyed many of your fellow officials’ palaces, one of which was Nan Yang’s.”

Xie Lian argued back, “I paid back that debt! All eight million eight hundred and eighty thousand merits! And for this, I need to thank My Lord for giving me the opportunity to go to Mount Yujun.”

“Thank Nan Yang,” Jun Wu replied. “I heard Ling Wen say it was he who privately approached her and said there was no need for you to pay back the reconstruction cost.”

Xie Lian was stunned. “I…didn’t know about this at all.”

No wonder those eight million eight hundred and eighty thousand merits were so easily repaid if it turned out that so much of it had already been intentionally forgiven. Yet at the time, it was the Palace of Nan Yang that suffered the most damage; he’d been told half of the golden roof had collapsed.

“Nan Yang made sure Ling Wen would not tell you, so you were naturally unaware. Since he did not want you to know, it would be best to continue feigning ignorance,” Jun Wu said.

Xie Lian didn’t know how to feel about this. Complicated and bittersweet feelings clouded his mind, and his thoughts scattered all over the place. Finally, he only sighed soundlessly and thought, Truly, in this world, the words “don’t tell anyone” are empty.

Jun Wu contemplated for a moment, then asked once more, “If Nan Yang and Xuan Zhen will not do, how about the Wind Master?”

Xie Lian pondered the option. “Lord Wind Master is a very good person, but I don’t know if she would want to go on this mission with me.”

“The Wind Master is powerful,” Jun Wu said. “A lively person who enjoys making friends and thus matches your first condition of ‘easy to get along with.’ When reporting in with me, the Wind Master also spoke well of you. I think you two will be fine. If you do not have any other questions, then descend with the Wind Master and go forth to investigate Ghost City. Also…”

“Yes?”

Jun Wu said unhurriedly, “Work hard, but do not force yourself.”

Xie Lian was startled by those words. A moment later, he smiled. “What is My Lord saying? I’m not forcing myself.”

Jun Wu patted Xie Lian’s shoulders. “Return to the Palace of Xianle to rest for now. I will send word to summon the Wind Master.”

Xie Lian blinked. “I don’t have enough merits, so no palace has been erected. The Palace of Xianle from the past has long since been torn down. So, what Palace of Xianle?”

“I have granted you a new one,” Jun Wu said. “You cannot possibly always cram yourself into that decrepit little shrine?”

Xie Lian left the Palace of Divine Might and was led to the Palace of Xianle by a junior official from Jun Wu’s palace.

This Palace of Xianle was very nearly an exact copy of the one he had in the past: glazed tiles with red walls, sumptuous and elegant. He stood outside the palace gates for a long time, but not a shred of desire to enter came to him. The Scrap Immortal was still best suited to a scrapped shrine, after all. A proud and glamorous heavenly palace like this wasn’t a place he could stay.

He loitered outside the entrance and waited for Lord Wind Master to come find him, but after a while, the one who appeared was unexpectedly not the lady cultivator in white Daoist robes but another white-clad cultivator.

This cultivator was in glowing spirits, with an air of transcendence fluttering about him. It was the one from the meeting at the Palace of Divine Might who had randomly fought with Pei Ming, Qingxuan.

He waved his whisk, a smile hanging from his lips. “Greetings, Your Highness!”

Xie Lian smiled back. “Greetings, fellow cultivator.”

Truthfully, he really wanted to ask who he was but thought it’d be rude. He was about to sneak a peek at his scroll to see which heavenly official was named Qingxuan when the person in question walked up to him and exclaimed, “Let’s go! Let’s go take a stroll down below.”

Xie Lian was taken aback. “My friend, I’m waiting for someone.”

Hearing this, the cultivator stuffed his whisk into the back collar of his outer robe and turned around in wonder. “Who else are you waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for Lord Wind Master,” Xie Lian replied.

The white-clad cultivator looked even more confused. “Aren’t I right here?”

“…” Xie Lian’s brows jumped. “You’re the Wind Master?”

The other flashed open his fan and started fanning. “I am the Wind Master; was there ever any doubt? Did you not know who I was?! Have you never heard my name: the Wind Master Qingxuan?!”

His tone was irrefutable and absolute, strong and confident, as if Xie Lian not knowing his name was an impossible thought to entertain. The folding fan had the word for wind, “feng,”1 written on the front, while the back had three flowing, inclining lines—the exact same fan that the lady cultivator in white had held!

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