Inside the Hall of Mental Cultivation, Xiao Mo let out a long breath and slowly opened his eyes.
He had now memorized the entire mnemonic of the Cursive Sword Formula.
Over this stretch of time, apart from experiencing lives inside the Hundred Lives Book, Xiao Mo had often pulled himself back out of it to recite the sword formula.
It was true that the wisp of Cursive Sword Intent inside his body contained the formula, so that with a single thought he could read it whenever he liked.
But only once he had memorized the formula completely, every last word stamped into his soul, could he truly cultivate the Cursive Sword Formula.
"Your Majesty."
Wei Xun's voice came from beyond the door.
"Come in," Xiao Mo said.
Wei Xun entered the bedchamber and bowed to him. "Your Majesty, the matter you instructed this servant to see to is done. North of Xianxin Palace there is a rather out-of-the-way patch of open ground, walled on all four sides and screened by a great gate; hardly anyone passes by. It is very quiet."
"This servant has already had an altar set out. Talisman paper, cinnabar, the eight trigrams chart, the yin-yang diagram, peachwood swords—everything a Daoist might need—is all prepared. Would Your Majesty care to go and have a look?"
"Let's go." Xiao Mo nodded.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Wei Xun hurriedly withdrew to ready the imperial carriage.
More than half a shichen later, Xiao Mo arrived at a plaza north of Xianxin Palace.
It was just as Wei Xun had said.
The plaza was walled on all four sides, and even to get in one had to open a great gate.
The plaza was about the size of a soccer field.
The place really was not bad, tucked away in a corner of the imperial capital.
Xianxin Palace stood right beside it.
Xianxin Palace was, in fact, the cold palace.
After the late emperor passed away, every consort in Xianxin Palace had been dragged off to accompany him in the imperial tombs, and Xiao Mo had not yet taken any consorts—there was not even a consort to banish to the cold palace.
So Xianxin Palace now stood utterly empty.
On top of that, it had always been a place where consorts liked to hang themselves, and with all sorts of horrifying rumors attached to it, the eunuchs and palace maids avoided it like the plague.
The open ground around it had been left deserted along with it.
"Is Your Majesty satisfied with this place?" Wei Xun asked fawningly from the side.
"Mm." Xiao Mo nodded. "I am very satisfied."
"From today on, I will cultivate the Dao here. Without my permission, no one is to set foot in this place. Understood?" Xiao Mo said coldly.
"This servant understands."
Xiao Mo waved a hand. "Wait outside the gate."
"Yes, Your Majesty..."
Wei Xun bowed, walked out of the plaza, and ordered the great gate shut.
"Clang."
The great gate closed tight.
Xiao Mo picked up a peachwood sword from the rack and began practicing the first stance of the Cursive Sword Formula.
For a cultivator just starting out, the most important thing was to draw spiritual power into the body, thereby opening the spirit meridians and entering the first layer of Qi Refining.
A cultivator of extraordinary talent could reach the first layer of Qi Refining in a single shichen.
Cultivators of ordinary aptitude took one to three days to draw in qi.
Those with poorer aptitude mostly needed only a month.
The reason Jiang Qingyi had once spent months without breaking into the first layer of Qi Refining was down to her sword bone.
Born one bone short, she was innately deficient and could not properly draw spiritual power into her body.
But after Xiao Mo had shaped a false bone for her,
even though that bone was no sword bone, it made up for her innate deficiency.
After that her cultivation speed was very fast—she advanced a thousand li a day, as the saying goes.
Xiao Mo judged that although his own spiritual constitution was not top-grade, it could just barely count as middling.
I'll get onto the cultivation path within two days.
Meanwhile, at the residence of the Minister of Rites.
The old palace maid sent from the imperial palace, Palace Matron Huang, opened her mouth and called to the young woman before her: "Go."
The young woman moved forward, her step light and steady, her stride short and unhurried—the so-called "lotus step." Her body stayed upright as she walked and her eyes did not stray.
"Stand."
At another word from Palace Matron Huang, the young woman halted: spine straight, chin slightly tucked, hands folded before her with the right over the left, her bearing dignified and serene, like a fine sculpture set there, not swaying in the slightest.
"Sit," Palace Matron Huang called again.
The young woman sat down on the chair beside her, resting on only the front half of the seat, back straight, legs together and set at a slant, feet together or slightly tucked beneath her skirt, hands folded naturally in her lap.
Looking at the young woman before her, Palace Matron Huang nodded, well pleased.
Palace Matron Huang had been sent by the Empress Dowager to train this foremost talented lady of Zhou in court etiquette.
At first Palace Matron Huang had been a little worried.
In a few days this talented lady would be entering the palace, and the time left for learning etiquette was really not long.
But she found her worry had been needless.
All one could say was, as expected of the great Yan clan—they schooled their daughters in court etiquette from day to day, in preparation for entering the palace.
Now she needed only to correct her here and there.
Most importantly, in her every movement there faintly radiated a kind of majesty.
She had heard that someone at court had submitted a remonstrance, holding that Yan Ruxue of the Yan clan could not serve as empress of Great Zhou.
But if a woman like this could not be empress, then who could?
"Within the palace, what are the rules for the countenance?" Palace Matron Huang asked.
"One must remain gentle and composed, letting neither joy nor anger show on the face; one must always be dignified and reserved, and may not laugh loudly, make an uproar, weep and lose composure, or show anger," Yan Ruxue answered.
"And the gaze?"
"The gaze must be lowered, or level with what lies ahead. One may not look about, glance sidelong, or look directly at the Emperor or the Empress Dowager; when speaking, one must keep a respectful, downcast posture," Yan Ruxue answered again.
"Mm." Palace Matron Huang nodded. "In court etiquette, Miss has no great problems, but Miss must practice more, until court etiquette is woven into her daily life without her having to think of it."
"Thank you for your trouble, Palace Matron Huang. Have a cup of tea before you go." Yan Ruxue inclined her head and instructed the maid beside her, "Pour Palace Matron Huang some tea."
"Many thanks, Miss." Palace Matron Huang was indeed a little thirsty.
The old palace maid sat on a stone bench drinking her cool tea; looking up, she saw the talented lady of the Yan clan sitting nearby, holding a piece of silk and gently wiping a gold ring.
Ever since she had come to the Yan residence, she had seen this young woman take out that gold ring and wipe it every single day.
The brocade box that held the ring was starting to rot from sheer age.
After finishing her tea, Palace Matron Huang walked out of the Yan residence, escorted by Yan Ruxue's personal maid.
"Miss Xiaochun, is there something special about that ring of your miss's?" Palace Matron Huang asked curiously.
"I don't know," Xiaochun said with a shake of her head. "Miss wipes that ring so gently every day, and that brocade box hasn't been changed in all these years. I once asked Miss what was so special about the ring."
"And what did your miss say?"
"Miss says she's waiting for someone to put it on her."