WTO accession
Clouds drifted over the dark green peaks, shrouding the secluded, cloud-shrouded area outside Suzhou in a semi-transparent painting. The bluestone path meandered into the depths, flanked by neatly trimmed pines and cypresses, their shadows filtering through the dappled sunlight that fell into the quiet room beside the crescent-shaped blue-green wall.
Occasionally, a wind chime would tinkle softly, its clear sound like jade striking jade, and a cheerful, lively voice would end the conversation: "Then I'll have to trouble Patriarch Lan."
After bidding farewell to Lan Clan Head Qingheng, Xie Linyang followed Senior Lan Qiren along a winding path to a noisy room.
Xie Linyang raised his almond-shaped eyes. The two characters "Lan Shi" were elegant and graceful, complementing the magnolia trees in the distance that were covered with morning dew, adding a touch of refined charm.
Putting aside their curious gazes, they followed Senior Lan Qiren into the Orchid Room. The noise immediately subsided, and pairs of eyes swept over them.
"You students are making a racket, how is this any different from the clamor of a marketplace? Go back to your seats immediately!" Lan Qiren put down the scroll in his hand, his cold and stern voice echoing in the Orchid Chamber, and the students silently returned to their seats.
"Now that a new friend has joined us, we should treat each other with courtesy and learn from one another." Lan Qiren pressed down his upturned mustache and made way for the person next to him.
Facing the numerous students below, Xie Linyang bowed slightly and smiled, saying, "I am Xie Linyang, a disciple of Baoshan Sanren."
All the onlookers saw was a young girl on the stage dressed in a light blue crescent-shaped skirt. When she raised her hand, her fair wrist swayed gently, and the sunlight slanted into her hair, adding a touch of light gold to her temples, making her face even more radiant.
"What? The Hermit of Baoshan?"
"Is that the legendary immortal who lived for over a hundred years—the Hermit of Baoshan?"
"I heard that she has a high level of cultivation, and can bring the dead back to life and heal flesh and bones..."
...
The hermit of Baoshan has been in seclusion for a hundred years, yet his disciple has reappeared in the immortal sect? Discussions arose among the audience, their gazes a mixture of awe, curiosity, and inquiry.
Jiang Cheng shifted his gaze from the girl's face and glanced at the boy sitting crookedly beside him. The boy, who had been nonchalant, suddenly brightened up when he heard the words "Baoshan Sanren".
Xie Linyang found an empty seat and sat down. He noticed that a boy with an extremely upright posture and appearance was sitting to his left. The boy wore the same forehead band as Lan Qiren and was staring intently at the bamboo slip in front of him, just like a good student in his class during his school days.
The boy sitting in front of the good student turned around to talk to her, but was stopped by a scroll pressed against his back by a person sitting upright behind him. Then he heard the person mutter, "How did you manage to catch me again?"
Xie Linyang felt a sudden warmth spread through the icy coldness against her skin. Images and sounds flashed before her eyes. She looked at the two of them suspiciously, her expression enigmatic.
A boy with smiling eyes and a crescent-shaped face on her right saw her looking over, shook his folding fan, and greeted her politely.
Next, Senior Lan Qiren, who had led her in, began to speak eloquently about etiquette and the essentials of self-cultivation, including the etiquette systems and rules passed down from various sects of the immortal world.
Xie Linyang was quite curious about this knowledge when she first came down the mountain. What her master taught her was very practical. It was her first time to come into contact with the so-called history and development of the various schools of immortals. Although it was dry and boring, she listened attentively.
After class, the boy who had wanted to greet her earlier rushed over first, asking expectantly, "Miss Xie! Do you know Cangse Sanren? She's my mother!"
Xie Linyang blinked, then shook his head with a smile: "When I entered the sect, Senior Sister Cangse had already gone down the mountain. But Master said she was the most carefree and interesting disciple."
The boy lowered his eyes, his tone becoming low: "That's true, you look about my age, so you must not have seen her before."
Looking at the spirited young man before him, Xie Linyang recalled the regret his master had when mentioning his second senior sister. His tone was gentle but apologetic: "Master... rarely mentions the past. I know very little about your mother. You must be Wei Wuxian, whom Master mentioned."
"Since you and my mother are from the same school, you can just call me Wei Ying. Tell me about my mother."
A young man sitting in front of Xie Linyang stood up and pushed aside Wei Wuxian's reclining body.
"Wei Wuxian! Can't you behave yourself?" Jiang Cheng's voice was clear and bright like a young man's, but it was also filled with an uncontrollable impatience. He frowned and dusted off the sleeves that Wei Wuxian had rubbed against. "You've only just met her and you're already asking her all sorts of questions. You've practically swallowed all the etiquette of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan?"
Xie Lin Yang saw that Wei Wuxian was practically pressed against the boy, so the two must have a very close relationship.
He turned aside, avoiding Wei Wuxian's head that was trying to lean in, and when his gaze turned to Xie Linyang, his brows furrowed slightly, his expression much calmer than when he was with Wei Wuxian, though his tone still carried a barely perceptible tension: "I apologize, my younger brother was rude." He paused, then lowered his eyes and adjusted the bell at his waist, which rang softly with the movement. "I am Jiang Cheng, courtesy name Wanyin. Son of Jiang Fengmian, the patriarch of the Yunmeng Jiang Clan. Since Miss Xie is a fellow disciple of Uncle Cangse, she should be our elder according to seniority. You don't need to pay attention to Wei Wuxian's nonsense."
Despite his young age, the boy has the air of someone in charge of the family, suggesting he has been raised to follow family rules and is being groomed as their heir.
“Wei Ying was just asking about Mother, how is that impolite? Besides—” She tilted her head, winked at Wei Wuxian, the smile in her eyes like shattered sunlight, “I heard from Master that when Senior Sister Cangse was in the sect, she was even more mischievous than you are now!”
Wei Wuxian's eyes lit up, and he immediately leaned closer: "Really? What's wrong with my mother?"
"Hey, hey, don't push!" Xie Linyang laughed and nudged him aside, but not really with force. Instead, she turned to Jiang Cheng, her tone as light as a sparrow hopping in the forest, "We look about the same age, so don't keep calling me 'elder,' it sounds too formal! Just call me Linyang, or A-Yang, that's what Master and Senior Brother call me." She patted her chest, deliberately making an "I understand" expression, "Besides, I joined the sect late, Senior Sister Cangse has already left the mountain, how could I dare to be your elder? At most, I'm just... a 'junior sister'?"
Jiang Cheng scoffed inwardly and turned back to his seat.
Xie Linyang didn't know why he suddenly left. Was there something wrong with what he said?
"Oh, don't mind him, he's just got that bad temper. Lin Yang, tell me about my mother." Wei Wuxian seemed to have long been used to the strange attitude of the boy named Jiang Cheng, and kept pestering her with questions, acting very familiar.
She twirled a strand of her hair with her fingertips and said slyly, "Although I've never met Senior Sister Cangse, Master laughs whenever he mentions her. He says that back then, she led her junior brothers to steal chestnuts from the back mountain and even threw the chestnut shells into Master's teacup, which made Master so angry that he chased her for three miles with a ruler—"
Wei Wuxian jumped up excitedly: "I never thought I inherited my good qualities from my mother!" After saying that, he felt a glare from the person behind him.
“I thought the legendary Elder Baoshan had ascended to immortality and was no longer involved in the mortal world, but I didn’t expect that he was just like an ordinary person.” The young man on the right also came over, opened his folding fan, and said politely, “I am Nie Huaisang of the Nie family of Qinghe.”
Xie Linyang's almond-shaped eyes curved into a smile as she felt the Shadow Grass on her chest issue another warning. However, this time there were no images or sounds, only a fog. She smiled and looked the boy named Nie Huaisang up and down, saying, "Brother Nie is joking. My master has simply lived in seclusion. The rumors outsiders have made her seem like a myth."
Upon hearing this, the students who had been secretly observing gathered around, asking her to tell them about Baoshan Sanren, such as whether he had become an immortal, whether he possessed superb medical skills, and why he lived in seclusion.
Xie Linyang suddenly realized a problem: her master, who was always doing something unorthodox, seemed to have a lot of "value" in the eyes of outsiders. What kind of "reclusive master" title did this book give her master?
Thinking back, it's been ten years since she transmigrated into this book. The body she entered was only five years old. After being taken in by her master, she never left the mountain again. As for how she came to believe she had transmigrated into the book, we have to go back to three days ago.
Back then, she was squatting by the old stone table on Shengyang Cliff, watering the "Reflecting Grass." This grass was given to her by her master, who said it could reflect the past and illuminate the future. She had cherished it like a treasure for eight years, and its leaves were so tender that you could squeeze water out of them. But that morning, the grass suddenly began to tremble violently, as if torn apart by a gale. The originally emerald green veins gradually turned red, and the oozing sap stuck to her fingertips, warm like blood.
Startled, she dropped the kettle with a clatter, spilling water everywhere. The water reflected in the grass: a dark mass of cultivators in sun-patterned robes wielding branding irons, flames reddening half the sky; some roaring "Wen Clan tyranny," others lying in pools of blood… Amidst the chaos, she heard two names repeatedly called, choked with sobs and despair—"Wei Ying!" "Lan Zhan!"
Her mind went blank, as if struck by lightning. She knew those two names all too well! In her past life, when she was slacking off at work, her colleagues would constantly ramble on about them, saying they were from a top-tier BL novel with two male leads, so popular that even someone like her who didn't read novels had heard of them. She'd laughed at her colleagues back then, "How old are you to still be reading this?" But now, those two names emerged from the illusion of the lingering grass, carrying a bloody stench, striking her heart with a sharp pain.
So... she wasn't reborn, she transmigrated into a book? She transmigrated into the novel that her colleague cried about every day, saying she "couldn't let it go"?
Clutching the scalding hot image-recording grass, she stumbled and ran back to her master's bedroom. Her master was fast asleep. She knelt before the prayer mat with a thud, her voice trembling: "Master! Master, look! The image-recording grass… it shows so many people fighting! And people are calling Wei Ying, Lan Zhan…"
The master's sleepy eyes widened in fright as he looked at the memory grass in her hand. A ripple appeared in his usually calm eyes, but he wasn't very surprised. He just sighed softly, "What's meant to come will come."
She was stunned: "Master...you know?"
Master reached out and stroked her head, his palm as warm as it had been ten years ago: "Three months ago, I observed the celestial phenomena at night and saw that the Ziwei star was dim and the Yin Sha star was bright. I knew that the Yin Iron would appear in the world and that the immortal sect would face a great calamity. I just never expected that this calamity would be related to you."
"It has something to do with me?" She bit her lip, her fingers squeezing the leaves of the lingering grass until they wrinkled. "Master, I... I'm not from this world. In my past life, I was in another place, and I heard the names Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. They were..." She didn't know how to say "male protagonist of a BL novel," and her face turned red with anxiety, "very important people!"
Her master smiled and tapped her forehead with her fingertip: "Silly girl, when I took you in, I knew your soul was different from ordinary people, carrying the aura of another world. For the past ten years, you have been nurturing your soul on Sheng Yang Cliff, and the Shadow Grass has recognized its master, all for this day." She paused, her voice becoming deeper, "With the appearance of Yin Iron in the world, resentment has arisen everywhere. Only your soul from another world, unbound by the Heavenly Dao, can rewrite the ending."
Her mind was in turmoil. One moment she saw the firelight in the grass, the next she saw her colleague saying that "Wei Ying was thrown into the Burial Mound." Suddenly, her nose stung and tears fell: "Master, it's so dangerous down there. I... I'm afraid I won't do a good job."
The master wiped away her tears with his sleeve, the movement as gentle as brushing against a flower petal: "A-Yang, do you know the meaning of the word 'Tao'?" She shook her head, and the master took her hand, guiding her to touch the rubbing of the Tao Te Ching hanging on the wall. "'The Tao gives birth to One, One gives birth to Two, Two gives birth to Three, Three gives birth to all things.' But if the Tao is only here on Shengyang Cliff, it will forever remain just 'One.' You have been on this cliff for ten years, learning techniques, but you have never experienced the Tao."
"Then... what is the Dao?" she asked, sniffing.
"It's a calamity, a hardship, the joys and sorrows of life, the seven emotions and six desires." Her master's voice carried a solemnity she had never heard before. "A-Yang, your master has protected you for ten years, but you must ultimately walk your own path. The 'Image-Remembering Grass' can warn you, but it cannot walk for you; your master can teach you magic, but it cannot experience the calamities for you." She took out a brocade pouch from her sleeve, inside which was a golden jade pendant containing the Image-Remembering Grass, tied with a red string. "Take this and go down the mountain."
"Go down the mountain?" She looked up abruptly, her eyes wide. "But Master, you said that disciples of Baoshan Sanren are not allowed to go down the mountain and enter the world..."
“Rules are rigid, but people are flexible.” Her master interrupted her, gently tapping her chest with his fingertip. “You carry the suffering of others in your heart, and you long for ‘home.’ This is your ‘path.’ Go, go see the sun below the mountain, get to know those people whose names you have heard, and turn those ‘unresolved feelings’ into ‘fulfillment.’”
Her master's words were like the morning bell of Sheng Yang Cliff, striking her heart with a burning passion. She looked down at the brocade pouch in her palm; the leaves of the lingering grass trembled gently inside, as if echoing her master's words. For the first time in ten years, she felt the wind of Sheng Yang Cliff make her want to fly.
She suddenly threw herself into her master's arms, hugging her waist tightly just like when she was a child, her voice muffled: "Master, I'll miss you when I go down the mountain! I'll write to you! I'll bring you delicious food and fun things from down the mountain!"
Master patted her back with a smile, his silver hair brushing against her cheek: "Silly girl, why are you crying? Remember, no matter what you encounter, guarding your true self is the Great Way."
Three days later, she stood before the group of protagonists filling the room. The jade pendant on her chest felt heavy; inside was a memory grass, her master's words, her ten years of peace, and the myriad possibilities to come.
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