021, The Beautiful Young Maid-A Hundred Schools of Thought: Three Sentences That Led to Expulsion from the Sect(The Thirty-Six Principles of Master Dongxuan)

Wei Wuji was inwardly astonished; he had never expected Wang Yu to hold such an opinion of the School of Miscellany. The School of Miscellany was, after all, one of the most powerful sects of the time, yet Wang Yu claimed they wandered aimlessly, lacking true conviction. However, when Wei Wuji reconsidered, recalling the deeds of several great figures from that school, he had to admit that Wang Yu’s assessment was indeed accurate. This realization only deepened his respect for Wang Yu. To perceive the flaws of such a sect at a single glance was no small feat.

With the conversation drawing to a close, the two parted ways, each returning to their quarters for rest. Early the next morning, after breakfast, they boarded a large ship bound for Linzi. It was a merchant vessel from the south, now heading for Linzi, stopping at Wenyang to replenish supplies and, incidentally, to take on some passengers for a modest profit. To merchants, even a single coin was worth earning.

The ship flew a banner bearing the character "Fan." Exchanging glances, Wang Yu and Wei Wuji both wondered if this might be one of the famed Lord Tao Zhu’s merchant vessels. The ship was indeed grand, with three-tiered decks towering above the water, its structure imposing and rules strict. Cold gleams hinted at hidden weaponry along the railings, clear evidence of armed guards in disguise. At both the bow and stern stood two armed sentinels, motionless despite the ship’s constant swaying.

One could only guess what precious cargo warranted such fierce protection. Yet, despite carrying valuables, the ship still took on travelers along the way—whether from confidence in their abilities or some ulterior motive, it was hard to say.

In truth, Wang Yu was not particularly keen to board the vessel; its size alone invited trouble, and with no martial skill to speak of, he would have preferred the safety of a small boat. However, Wei Wuji, a noble scion of Wei, was accustomed to luxury and naturally disdained anything so humble. Reassured by Wei Wuji’s insistence that nothing could possibly go wrong—and that, should anything happen, he would take full responsibility—Wang Yu reluctantly agreed to accompany him.

Perhaps the generous payment persuaded the ship’s owner, for their rooms were arranged on the second deck, with a strict admonition not to ascend to the third floor to avoid inviting trouble. This piqued Wang Yu’s curiosity—was some illustrious personage residing above? Still, curiosity was one thing; Wang Yu had no intention of going to the third deck.

All he wanted was to reach Linzi safely and peacefully, without unnecessary complications. Before long, the ship set sail, heading eastward with the river’s flow. After lunch in their cabin, Wang Yu and Wei Wuji napped for two hours. Growing restless, they strolled onto the deck.

It was around five in the afternoon—sunset painted the river in gold, a gentle breeze rippled across the water, and the scene was nothing short of splendid. Inspired, the two had the owner set up a banquet on deck, the river and wind their companions as they prepared to drink heartily.

Money could solve almost any problem, and with Wei Wuji’s deep pockets, a fine meal soon graced the deck. The two drank freely. In the height of their revelry, Wang Yu could not help but burst into song:

The mighty river flows eastward,
Its waves washing away heroes of old.
Right and wrong, triumph and defeat, all turn to nothing.
The green hills remain, bathed in endless sunsets.
Old fishermen and woodcutters,
Accustomed to autumn moons and spring breezes,
Meet joyfully over a jug of cloudy wine.
How many tales from ancient times
Are left to our laughter and conversation.

As he reached the final lines, Wang Yu’s wild spirit was on full display—perhaps the wine had unshackled his heart. One hand gripping the jug, the other pointing toward the river, he finished his song and burst into hearty laughter.

Wei Wuji could not help but applaud, recognizing that though Wang Yu’s song was neither a formal tune nor a lyrical ode, it nonetheless conveyed a profound sense of grandeur and the rise and fall of history. After Wang Yu finished, Wei Wuji shouted, “Such fine words deserve three great toasts!” He promptly drained three cups in succession, and the two laughed together with abandon.

Their laughter, however, disturbed the distinguished guests on the third deck. A soft, alluring voice drifted down: “Who are these unruly fellows, disturbing the peace? Qingzhu, go quiet them down.” Though a rebuke, the voice carried a subtle, enchanting power that made Wang Yu, to his surprise, feel an urge to glimpse its owner’s true face—a sensation entirely new to him.

“Very well, miss. I’ll go deal with them at once.”

Soon, a maid in green silk descended from the third deck, flanked by two guards armed with halberds, her presence formidable. The maid wore a verdant smoke-hued blouse, a skirt of green with scattered floral patterns, and a sheer, mist-like scarf. Her hair was coiffed in twin knots behind her ears, her features delicate yet youthful, her shoulders slender, her waist narrow. Though young, she already possessed a hint of extraordinary beauty.

Wang Yu couldn’t help but sigh inwardly; if even the maid was so lovely, what of the mistress she served?

The maid approached and, seeing Wang Yu’s bare-chested, uninhibited appearance, furrowed her brows slightly. Yet, clearly accustomed to noble circles, she did not show any embarrassment or anger. Instead, she greeted them with poise, bowing deeply: “Greetings, gentlemen.”

Wei Wuji and Wang Yu quickly returned her courtesy.

With her greeting complete, the maid said, “Would you please keep your voices down, gentlemen? Others seek a bit of peace and quiet.” In truth, it was indeed Wei Wuji and Wang Yu who were at fault, and her polite manner made both men flush with embarrassment. They hastily replied, “We were swept up in the beauty of the evening and the delight of wine. Forgive our indiscretion, and please convey our apologies to your mistress.”

Judging by their attire, the maid surmised they were not ordinary men—likely young nobles traveling incognito. Remembering her mistress’s guidance to show leniency when possible, she did not press the matter, merely nodded, and withdrew with her two attendants to the third deck. Clearly, they were prepared: polite first, forceful later if necessary. Had the warning gone unheeded, the two might well have found themselves thrown overboard.

After the maid left, Wei Wuji and Wang Yu exchanged a helpless glance—so much for their high spirits. With little else to do, they returned to their cabin and soon fell fast asleep.

Wang Yu thought the journey would pass uneventfully and deliver them safely to Linzi. But as night fell, this tranquility was shattered.

In the depths of sleep, a sudden, piercing cry of “Catch the assassin!” rang out, jolting Wang Yu and Wei Wuji awake.