Chapter 69: Paper Names

The vast circular space stretched out. Behind the glass-like transparent stone walls, white light continuously poured in, illuminating this immense domain.

The wooden book cabinets were equally enormous, resembling steep cliffs rising from a gorge, countless inscriptions carved upon them.

Ning Changjiu walked into it, his white robe making him appear as small as a pearl entering the sea.

Although the path to knowledge is said to be paved with diligence, how could one truly read through these towering mountains of books?

Moreover, this was merely a corner of the innumerable mountains of knowledge in the world.

Ning Changjiu knew that some people in this world truly attained enlightenment through reading, their knowledge vast as mountains and seas, their minds traversing the furthest reaches. Their words carried the weight of law, guiding the forms and colors of the world, and their inspired brushstrokes could depict a thousand miles of rivers and mountains.

That was an incredibly profound and magnificent realm, but it was not for him.

Although he had been forced to read many books since childhood, he still did not love reading. The sea of knowledge required diligent effort as a raft, but what he sought was the elusive Grand Dao, not the gains and pains found within books.

He walked through the aisles, his gaze sweeping over the book spines. Occasionally, he would open a couple of books, glance at them, and then put them back.

Time flowed like water. In the blink of an eye, today's sword training had ended, and many disciples came down the stairs to read.

Ning Changjiu knew that Xiaoling must have returned too.

He stopped reading and walked towards the exit.

Several of the inner disciples, their sword robes spotless, noticed him. As this was a quiet area of the inner peak where loud conversations were forbidden, Ning Changjiu only saw them pointing at him discreetly.

He paid no mind to their gazes and continued straight ahead.

Walking up the wooden stairs, against the flow of people, Ning Changjiu felt a slight surprise when he returned to his room. He saw Ning Xiaoling sitting by his desk, holding a stack of books, and looking at him with an excited expression.

“Xiaoling, you’re quite bold, openly walking in here. Aren’t you afraid of your fellow disciples reporting you?” Ning Changjiu smiled and asked, curious.

Ning Xiaoling replied openly, “Of course not.”

Ning Changjiu raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, “Who gave you such courage?”

Ning Xiaoling pointed at the stack of books and said, “This is a special privilege granted by Sister Jiajia herself. Since I’m illiterate, Master told me to come here every day to learn characters from you, Brother. I can stay for up to an hour and a half.”

Ning Changjiu’s lips curled into a smile, and he laughed teasingly, “You’re illiterate, and yet so happy about it?”

Ning Xiaoling chuckled and said, “Isn’t this just foolish joy?”

Ning Changjiu suddenly recalled yesterday's events. His originally relaxed mood was instantly sobered. He felt it was strange for this little girl, Ning Xiaoling, to peer into his joys, angers, sorrows, and delights.

Meanwhile, Ning Xiaoling looked at him with an expectant expression.

Ning Changjiu then consoled himself, thinking it was a good opportunity to put some pressure on himself and cultivate his mind. If he could achieve a state of undisturbed tranquility, there would be nothing to worry about.

“Alright,” Ning Changjiu nodded. “But you must promise me to study diligently and never intentionally delay your progress.”

Ning Xiaoling hummed twice, then asked worriedly, “Brother, will I be disturbing your cultivation?”

Ning Changjiu replied, “Your brother doesn’t cultivate.”

Ning Xiaoling was surprised. “Usually, there’s hardly anyone on this inner peak, so no one should bother you. Brother, don’t be lazy! How will you defeat Sister Xiang’er in three years if you’re like this?”

Ning Changjiu said, “Aren’t there still three years?”

Ning Xiaoling sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. “Brother, have you given up on yourself?”

“Don’t overthink it,” Ning Changjiu said. “Your brother is just… sharpening his blade.”

Ning Xiaoling immediately thought of the proverb and blurted out, “Sharpening the axe does not delay the work of cutting wood?!”

Hmm… and this ‘wood’ happened to be himself.

Ning Changjiu smiled and said, “Since Master has given the order, I’ll start teaching you to read. Let’s not waste any time.”

Ning Xiaoling uttered an “Oh,” and immediately sat up straight.

“Then I’ll start by teaching you the most basic strokes: horizontal, vertical, left-falling, right-falling, turning, dot, curved hook… Wait for me to prepare the brush and I’ll show you.”

“Okay.”

Ning Changjiu ground the ink, dipped his brush, and spread out a sheet of Xuan paper, holding it down with a paperweight. The brush, infused with ink, gracefully formed strokes, creating a gentle aesthetic on the pure white paper.

“Brother, your handwriting is truly beautiful,” Ning Xiaoling exclaimed sincerely.

Ning Changjiu said helplessly, “But you can’t even read them.”

Ning Xiaoling said seriously, “I don’t need to read them. It’s like looking at a stranger; I don’t know who they are, but I can still tell if they’re good-looking or not.”

Ning Changjiu paused his wrist, glanced at her, and chuckled, “You’ve only been cultivating for a day, and you’re already so sharp-tongued?”

Ning Xiaoling stuck out her tongue and said, “I’ve always been clever.”

Ning Changjiu smiled faintly and continued to write, introducing Ning Xiaoling to the names and stroke order of each character.

Half an hour later, Ning Changjiu had finished explaining the strokes and asked, “Have you memorized them all?”

“Yes!” Ning Xiaoling confidently replied.

Ning Changjiu smiled slightly, “Learning so quickly, it seems you’ll master it in no time.”

Ning Xiaoling quickly patted her head, feigning dizziness. “Oh dear, I’ve learned the later ones and forgotten the earlier ones! It seems I still need much more guidance from you, Brother!”

Ning Changjiu suppressed a laugh and said, regaining his composure, “Alright, let’s continue. I’ll teach you some of the simplest and most commonly used characters first.”

Ning Xiaoling shook her head. “No.”

Ning Changjiu looked at her, puzzled.

Ning Xiaoling said earnestly, “I want to learn names first: my name, your name, Master Jiajia’s name, and Sister Zhao Xiang’er’s name.”

Ning Changjiu was momentarily stunned, then smiled gently. He dipped his brush in the inkstone, and when it touched the paper, it moved with a soft grace, forming the character “龄” (líng), embodying a gentle, virtuous young woman.

“This is the ‘líng’ character from Ning Xiaoling’s name, composed of the radical for ‘tooth’ and the character ‘order’.”

“So complicated,” she murmured.

“Yes, legend has it that in the Barbarian Mountains of the Northern Wilderness, there’s a giant race called Panri. They carve sacred tokens from the teeth of their first giant king as a royal heirloom, which is somewhat coincidental with this ‘líng’ character.”

“How scary… and a bit disgusting,” Ning Xiaoling said, covering her cheek. She suddenly felt a phantom pain in her teeth.

Ning Xiaoling took the brush and, after scrawling a few crooked copies of the character, Ning Changjiu continued to explain the characters “长久” (chángjiǔ), meaning “everlasting.”

“These two characters are so simple, just like you, Brother, so pure,” Ning Xiaoling praised sincerely. Then, after a moment’s thought, she confidently showed off her limited knowledge: “Your name has such a wonderful meaning, Brother: ‘as long as heaven and earth,’ ‘long-lived and enduring’…”

Ning Changjiu chuckled softly, “Actually, your brother wasn’t originally called by this name.”

Ning Xiaoling hummed in acknowledgment and nodded. “I wasn’t originally named Ning either; I changed my surname after joining Master. By the way, what was your name before, Brother? Do you remember?”

Ning Changjiu said, “My original name was Zhang Jiu.”

Ning Xiaoling sounded a bit disappointed. “That’s a bit ordinary.”

Ning Changjiu nodded. “Yes, Master didn’t like my name either, so she changed it to Changjiu.”

The ‘Master’ he referred to was, of course, his master from his previous life.

He had never met his Master, yet she knew his name and had changed it for him.

He vaguely sensed there was another layer of meaning to this, but he couldn't quite grasp it at the moment.

Ning Xiaoling confidently took the brush and declared, “I’ve learned it!”

With that, she brandished the brush and wrote the two characters for “Changjiu” on the Xuan paper.

“The strokes are wrong…”

“But the meaning is right, isn’t it?”

“Hmm… alright,” Ning Changjiu said helplessly. “May people be long-lived, that is indeed a good sentiment.”

And so, for the next hour or so, their conversation continued intermittently.

“Master Jiajia’s name is truly beautiful: ‘woman’ and ‘home’ – a daughter returning home.”

“You know the character ‘home’?”

“Of course! It’s the ‘home’ from the Daoist who lives as long as heaven.”

“Sister Xiang’er’s character, Xiang, is too complicated! It’s even harder to write than Ling.”

“Yes, the character ‘Xiang’ is very interesting. If you add the ‘earth’ radical to ‘Xiang,’ it becomes ‘rǎng,’ which means soil. It’s a pity you fainted that day and didn’t hear what Sister Xiang’er said on the Nine Spirit Platform.”

“What did she say?”

“She said, well… she said she was a mud doll kneaded by the Celestial Empress with nine-day breathing soil, and now that she’s been fired into a beautiful little porcelain figure, the ‘earth’ radical was removed, and her name was changed to Xiang,” Ning Changjiu spoke with a straight face, spouting nonsense.

“Uh, really…?” Ning Xiaoling listened, feeling a bit dizzy.

“Why would your brother lie to you? Sister Xiang’er has a very significant background.”

“Then won’t you get beaten up, Brother?”

“…Whose side are you on?”

This was the first night of cultivation at Heavenly Cavern Peak.

Ning Xiaoling had left. Ning Changjiu looked at the Xuan paper filled with her scribbles and felt a fleeting moment of intuition, a flash of insight that he couldn't quite grasp.

He frowned slightly. After a brief deliberation, he wrote the three characters “Ning Changjiu” again in a blank space on a sheet of paper, then wrote the two characters “Zhang Jiu.”

That night, wind swept through the mountains, and all sounds seemed to wail. Ning Changjiu stood quietly, staring at his name, lost in thought for a long time.