Qing Qishu stopped before the Divine Dragon Tree. "We're here."
With that, he turned to leave.
Jiang Chen stopped him. "Won't you come up and sit for a while?"
Though after learning about soul-nurturing, the fruit house did look rather unsettling, Jiang Chen had quickly overcome that small "discomfort" once Qing Qishu explained the dangers.
Compared with the safety of his life, a little awkwardness counted for nothing.
But the main reason was, in truth, that this fruit house looked so unusual that he could not possibly move in without any wariness. Bringing Qing Qishu up with him was also a way of probing.
No matter how reliable these "Holy Clan" folk of the Godshaded Land appeared, he had known them for only a single day. With strangers, one could never be too careful.
Qing Qishu eyed Jiang Chen warily. "What do you want?"
"...I have some questions I'd like to ask you."
Jiang Chen was rather embarrassed.
When it came to judging danger, it might have been more accurate and more dependable to leave it to Jiang Yan.
The knowledge Jiang Yan had gained from the White Bone Evil God gave him a far broader view.
But Jiang Chen was very clear on one point: Jiang Yan was only a passerby within his own body, and he must never come to depend on him.
Even if Jiang Yan truly were the so-called "another self."
Another self was, after all, not oneself.
"Why are you asking so many questions? Are you planning to settle in the Godshaded Land for good?" As he spoke, Qing Qishu's eyes turned fierce. "Have you taken a fancy to Qinghua?"
This man's thoughts really did leap about, and he looked at every problem from angles no one else would.
Jiang Chen said helplessly, "I truly have no designs on that Holy Maiden of yours."
"Really?"
"Really!"
"Impossible! Anyone who has seen a girl as perfect as Qinghua cannot fail to fall in love with her!" Qing Qishu flatly refused to believe it. "Unless..."
"Unless?"
"Unless you don't like women..." As he said this, Qing Qishu even took a step back.
For a moment, Jiang Chen no longer felt like pumping him for information at all—he nearly wished he could just draw his sword and skewer the fellow on the spot.
In the end he mastered his temper and said, quite earnestly, "My family, my friends, even my enemies—none of them are here. To the Forest Sea Source Realm, I am nothing but a passing traveler. If I am the Envoy of the Dragon God, then this one occasion is all the bond you and I will ever have. If it is confirmed tomorrow that I am not the Envoy, then my bond with your Godshaded Land ends tonight. Tell me—how could I fall in love with anyone here?"
Perhaps he really did sense Jiang Chen's earnestness. Qing Qishu mulled it over for a while, then abruptly asked, "That place you're from—right, the State of Qi! Do you have a sweetheart in the State of Qi?"
"Huh?" Jiang Chen was taken aback.
This man's body was so slow to react, yet his mind drifted so far afield—it was truly a little hard to keep up.
Qing Qishu said sourly, "A fine-looking fellow like you is bound to have one."
Jiang Chen couldn't tell for the moment whether that was praise or an insult. He rubbed his nose and gave a vague "ah."
"Then teach me, won't you?" Qing Qishu's eyes lit up with expectation. "How do I make Qinghua fall in love with me?"
Jiang Chen was now completely lost.
This man: his clan was facing a crisis, his friend had died in the Mutual Hunt, and he himself had nearly "atoned" through soul-nurturing. Even setting soul-nurturing aside, if Jiang Chen and the others were confirmed tomorrow not to be the Envoy of the Dragon God, he would still have to keep taking part in the Mutual Hunt—and judging by the strength he had shown, it was easy to foresee that next time, too, he would die at Qing Jiuye's hands.
Yet on the eve of such peril, what occupied his heart and mind, day and night, was "How do I make Qinghua fall in love with me?"
And what Jiang Chen could not understand at all was—he's actually asking me?
"That is a long story." Jiang Chen drew a deep breath. "Shall we go up, sit down, and talk it over slowly?"
"All right!" For once, Qing Qishu was quite decisive.
The semicircular fruit house hung from the branches of the Divine Dragon Tree. The whole tree bore only this one fruit, and it was not especially large.
It too had a vine ladder formed naturally; the two of them leaped lightly up in a single bound.
With Qing Qishu along, Jiang Chen did not need to worry much that anything might be wrong with the fruit house.
The fruit house held two rooms, very simple. Judging by the furnishings, the outer room was the parlor and the inner one the bedroom.
The moment he stepped inside, Jiang Chen felt something entirely different.
In the priest's square fruit house earlier, he had sensed something sacred and solemn—but also a kind of oppression.
In this semicircular one, he felt ease of body and mind. Some imperceptible breath was slowly nourishing his body.
"This Divine Dragon Tree grew naturally; it won't reject outsiders."
Only now did Qing Qishu remember to explain. "The ones that bear square fruit are all forced to grow through soul-nurturing... The holy spirits of the clan repel outsiders and would keep you from resting."
So the Divine Dragon Trees that bore square fruit had all come from soul-nurturing.
The Divine Dragon Tree he lodged in was different precisely because it had grown naturally.
His wariness now looked rather like measuring a gentleman's heart by a petty man's own.
Jiang Chen felt a touch of shame, but if it came to it again, in an unfamiliar place, he still would not let go of that wariness.
Then again, if Qing Qishu had remembered to explain from the start, if his reactions weren't so slow, Jiang Chen would not have had to see ghosts where there were none.
"It seems Divine Dragon Trees that bear round fruit are rather rare?" Jiang Chen asked.
In fact, from entering the Godshaded Land until now, he had seen only this one. Counting the fruit houses where Wu Quji and Su Qi lodged, that made three naturally grown Divine Dragon Trees in all.
"Yes. It grows harder and harder for natural Divine Dragon Trees to survive." Qing Qishu sighed, and for a moment looked worried and wistful.
But he soon perked up again. "All that can wait for later. Teach me first, please. I've never courted anyone in my life."
Jiang Chen: ...
Changing the subject was clearly impossible. He had thought this blockhead easy to muddle, but the fellow pursued the matter of "getting a sweetheart" with extraordinary persistence—especially the matter of making Qinghua that sweetheart.
"Well now, if you want to win a girl's favor," Jiang Chen coughed lightly and began talking nonsense, "first you must... then you need... and finally we still have to... right? Now let us analyze Qinghua as a person. Look at her..."
"Mm, mm." Qing Qishu listened with utter seriousness, nodding again and again.
...
The night passed quickly.
All the more so because the kind, generous, good-hearted "Mr. Zhang" had given "lessons" for half the night, while the diligent, studious pupil Qing Qishu strove to master the "knowledge"—time truly flew like an arrow.
"Studying" had never brought him such joy.
Sleepless all night, when he came the next day to invite Mr. Zhang to the altar, he was still full of vigor and high fighting spirit.
Even on the way to the altar, he clung to Mr. Zhang, pressing him on several more "key points."
As for the "Mr. Zhang" who had taught everything he knew, the moment he saw the distinctive altar of the Holy Clan ahead, he too felt as if a great weight had lifted, as if he had escaped a sea of suffering.
He had all but dissected Zhao Yan from every possible angle; there was truly nothing left to tell, nothing left to invent.
Eighteen key points for winning a sweetheart—heaven only knew how he had summed those up!
Before them now:
Six identical trees stood arranged in a circle, the distance between every two of them exactly the same.
From the middle of each tree grew a branch sideways, and the branches intertwined at the circle's center, forming a vast platform of six branches extending into and entangling one another.
The grain formed by those entwined branches made natural, mystifying patterns, lending the place an air of mystery and solemnity.
The deeply lined priest stood before this altar of trees.
His hoary white hair was like snow.
Solemn of expression, he awaited the arrival of the company.