Special Training

Lin Qingyan happened to be an expert in this particular area.

Whether in bed or out of it, she had far more experience than Shangguan Yunying.

So last night’s defeat had not been a failure of strategy, but of tactics.

As long as they could shore up Shangguan Yunying’s weak point, as long as they could make her hold out for a few more rounds under Gu Chengyin’s attacks—

As long as she could hold the line whenever she needed a break, victory would still be within their grasp.

Shangguan Yunying naturally had no objections to the proposal.

She truly did need special training.

After last night’s battle, she understood better than anyone where her problems lay.

It wasn’t that she was unwilling, nor that she hadn’t tried hard enough. She simply couldn’t hold out.

When Gu Chengyin unleashed the full force of his attacks and they truly landed, all reason, all technique, and every contingency they had rehearsed in advance were swept away in an instant.

Her mind went blank. Her body refused to obey her. Only the most primal instincts remained.

So she had to cultivate! Immediately! She had to train harder and grow stronger!

Not only to catch up with Lin Qingyan, but also to defeat Gu Chengyin!

Besides, Gu Chengyin had originally told her to follow Lin Qingyan for precisely this reason.

It wasn’t about joining forces to overcome one opponent. It was about breaking through to the Golden Core realm. It was about cultivation.

But just as Shangguan Yunying prepared to get up, Lin Qingyan suddenly flipped her over and pinned her down.

The movement was as swift as lightning.

A moment earlier, Lin Qingyan had still been sitting across from her with her arms folded. The morning light had illuminated her cool, elegant features, gilding her entire body with a sacred golden radiance.

The next moment, she was already straddling Shangguan Yunying, her hands braced on either side of Yunying’s shoulders, her loose black hair falling over her shoulders.

Shangguan Yunying lay on her back, gazing up at Lin Qingyan’s face against the light.

Her cool brows and eyes appeared all the more profound in the shadows, while the corners of her lips curved upward ever so slightly.

Unable to help hesitating, Shangguan Yunying asked, “Sister Qingyan, what are you doing?”

Hadn’t Lin Qingyan said she was going to give her special training? Shangguan Yunying had already been preparing to get up, get dressed, and have a proper cultivation session.

So what was Lin Qingyan doing all of a sudden?

A strange smile appeared on Lin Qingyan’s face, and her eyes shone astonishingly brightly within the shadows cast by the backlight.

She smiled sweetly. “Of course I’m giving you special training, Sister Yunying.”

As she watched Lin Qingyan’s hand slowly rise, then slowly descend, Shangguan Yunying couldn’t help widening her eyes.

The hand began at her shoulder and slowly slid down along the curve of her collarbone.

The fingertip carried a faint chill. As it skimmed across her skin, it left behind a fine, delicate trail.

This position, this direction, this destination—could it be...?

Shangguan Yunying had never imagined that the special training Lin Qingyan mentioned would be this kind of special training.

“Sister Qingyan... wait... You mean this is the special training you were talking about?!”

“Hm? What else did Sister Yunying think it was?”

“I thought... Mmph!”

......

When Gu Chengyin emerged from the Heavenly Master’s Residence, the morning light had already rendered the long stone-paved street outside the entrance bright and clear.

He crossed the astonishingly high threshold of the residence. The hem of his robe fluttered lightly behind him, stirring a small gust of wind.

The ancient locust tree outside the gate remained lush and verdant. Its branches and leaves rustled in the morning breeze, breaking the rising sunlight into countless fragments of gold that scattered across the stone pavement.

A carriage was already waiting outside the residence.

It belonged to the Crown Prince’s Palace. There was no conspicuous insignia on its body, making it both understated and impossible to underestimate.

The coachman was a taciturn middle-aged man. When he saw Gu Chengyin emerge, he immediately jumped down from the driver’s seat and respectfully lifted the carriage curtain.

Gu Chengyin paused in front of the carriage for a moment.

Then he stepped onto the mounting block, lowered his head, and ducked into the carriage.

The curtain fell behind him, separating the inside from the outside as though they were two different worlds.

The carriage was furnished simply but comfortably.

The seats were covered with dark, soft cushions, and the backrests were angled just right.

A translucent gauze curtain hung over the window. It allowed him to see the scenery outside clearly without allowing anyone outside to see into the carriage.

Once Gu Chengyin had taken his seat, he hesitated slightly.

Through the gauze curtain, his gaze settled on the outer wall of the Heavenly Master’s Residence as it gradually receded from view.

The gray-green bricks reflected a quiet, solemn sheen in the morning light, while the glazed roof tiles atop the wall shimmered brilliantly beneath the sun.

A few branches of ginkgo extended over the wall, their golden leaves swaying gently in the breeze as if bidding him farewell.

Gu Chengyin withdrew his gaze and ordered, “To the Grand Secretariat.”

The coachman acknowledged him. The carriage swayed slightly, then its wheels rolled over the stone road with a rumbling sound as it headed toward the Grand Secretariat.

Gu Chengyin watched the scenery outside the window.

The street where the Heavenly Master’s Residence stood was quiet to begin with, and at this early hour, pedestrians were even rarer.

On either side stood the high walls of various residences, their heights differing here and there. Every so often, a branch or two of flowering plants peeked over the walls, stretching their limbs in the morning light.

Farther away, the outline of the Divine Capital gradually emerged in the pale golden dawn: rows upon rows of rooftops, staggered flying eaves, and, in the direction of the imperial city, the faint gleam of glazed tiles.

The city was waking up, while he was already on the road.

But Gu Chengyin paid little attention to the scenery. His thoughts were racing.

Originally, he had planned to join the Heavenly Master’s Residence first, then go to the Grand Secretariat the next day—which was today.

That way, he could face the coming upheaval at court with the dual identities of Junior Tutor to the Crown Prince and cultivator of the Heavenly Master’s Residence.

It was a strategy of advancing along two fronts.

He had to pursue the path of official promotion, but he also had to cultivate his ties with the Heavenly Master’s Residence.

The two paths would support each other. If one was blocked, he would still have the other, ensuring that he would not be driven into a desperate corner with a single move.

Although Emperor Luo had already approved Cui Zhenji’s resignation, the Grand Secretariat needed to consider many different factors before drawing up a new list of candidates.

They would not submit it so quickly, so there was still plenty of time.

Under the official system of Great Luo, whenever a ministerial post became vacant, the Grand Secretariat had to draw up a list of candidates.

The list would then be presented to the Son of Heaven for review, and the emperor would select one person from it to take over the position.

The drafting of this list was itself a struggle among the various factions.

Who appeared on it, who did not, who was ranked first, and who was placed last—

Every detail represented the Grand Secretariat’s attitude and would influence the emperor’s final decision.

The several old foxes in the Grand Secretariat had long since perfected the art of political calculation. They would not produce a list of candidates for Minister of Rites so quickly.

They would wait until the various factions had revealed most of their cards.

They would wait until Emperor Luo’s attitude became clearer, and until the direction of the court grew more distinct.

Only then would they slowly present that list—one that had weighed the interests of everyone involved, while uniquely failing to consider the common people.

That would take anywhere from three to five days at the shortest, to half a month at the longest.

Gu Chengyin’s fingers gently rubbed the edge of the low table.

Steam rose in wisps from the teacup, sketching invisible patterns before his eyes.

His gaze passed through the thin veil of vapor and settled on the streets constantly retreating outside the window, but his focus rested on none of them.

Given the current situation, the path to promotion was somewhat blocked.

Emperor Luo’s imperial edict arranging his marriage had cut off more than half of his way forward.