Shezaar City situated east of the Shee waters, and connected the lands of Chienye, Za’yii, and Fanshwar. Being a key location, the flames of war were lit year-round; it was a blood-soaked city of death. Yujien cradled Qu Fongning in a rapid gallop the entire way, arrived within the city proper before Yin Time, and reined Shadow Leaper to a halt a far distance away. By then, Qu Fongning finally revealed his eyes out of his arms to survey the battlefield.

It was pure white with snow. With the shimmering reflection of the snowy whiteness, he faintly made out the colors of the two armies. The Southern army in turquoise bronze uniform stood in assumed lines, aligning to a large formation. A few small platoons of grey, white cavalries were sprinkled and trapped within the larger formation. They were running east and west, unable to break free. Within them, one with a sienna crown, black pelt, and golden trident, was issuing orders; it was Royal Prince Badama of Za’yii.

Qu Fongning heard from Yujien en route and understood the cause of this dispute. The Southern Empire’s Western Pass Legion had feigned a surrender. As they passed Shezaar, they executed a sudden counter and trapped Royal Prince Badama before the City. The assault annihilated the vast majority of Badama’s three thousand elites and left him with only a few centurion teams, who were struggling left and right on the brink of exhaustion. In their plight, they sought the aid from the Fanshwar garrison within the city. The city guard commander initially did not want to concede to the request, yet the City Lord considered if the Southern Army won the battle, they would ride to the tide in assaulting Fanshwar borders. Thus, after three debates, they sent out a thousand defending soldiers to aid Badama. However, this Southern Commander had some skills; he shifted the left- and right-wing formations, and trapped the Fanshwar soldiers in as well.

Qu Fongning focused his gaze on the animated formation of the Southern Army: the head and tail moved in synchronization, the command flags of the four corners raised high, the conductions were in mannered order, and the lines morphed without pattern. The Fanshwar and Za’yii parties numbered less than two thousand, and were struggling and clinging on as trapped beasts. The Southern Army seemed to have the upper wind, and with a few more morphs, they would complete the annihilation. Yet Qu Fongning watched momentarily, and observed the Southern Army to be moving in a dull drag, all without the air of suppression, and rather appeared to be in a drill. He saw many opportunities where, would the tail moved a little to the left, or the side wing curved further in, they could defeat the enemy. However, they always lacked that step. His heart was seething into a blaze, and would sooner leap up and scream curses out loud.

Yujien followed his line of vision, observed the spots all being the critical points of break, and inquired, “Where do you see the Southern Army are wanting?”

“They move too slow,” Qu Fongning blurted.

“This you can’t blame them. This formation is called ‘Thousand steed storm strike;’ it is originally a cavalry configuration.” He chuckled and pointed at the southern army. “And those are the eminently acclaimed light cavalries of Hebei¹!”

Qu Fongning zoomed his focus and saw the southern infantry in anxious marches, for less than one in ten was on a horse. To say this was cavalry, it was hardly possible to convince. He shook his head. “It doesn’t look it at all!”

“Southern cavalries are thus as such,” Yujien said, and saw that he had poked his face out. Finding it had frozen red from only saying these few words, he took off his silver mask from his gauntlets and put it on for him.

His mask was lined with a layer of soft leather, allowing it to be light and breathable, and insulated out the wind and the sand. When Qu Fongning’s little face donned this half mask, even his lips were half covered. Fortunately, their pupillary distance difference was not large; at least he could see ahead.

By this time, the Ghost Army’s Kan Aqua, and Tui Caliditas Division arrived by the city proper. “Arrow strike forward, assemble swamp water formation!” Yujien commanded.

“As commanded!” answered the division commanders in unison. The two divisions formed into a wedge and riveted into the southern formation. They rampaged straight and side, improvised and adapted through the ramming charge, and instantly teared the “Thousand steed storm strike” with an opening of a new moon.

“Chienye Ghost Army!” the southern soldiers cried in terror. Bronze gongs racketed into a rapid storm, and the formation tail paned into a curl, shifting into a slithering serpent wanting to entrap the Ghost Army. The Fanshwar garrison troops roared with curses. Apparently, they suffered the loss from this morph.

But the Ghost Army did not take the bite. The Kan Aqua Division led a Stryker cavalry platoon in a salient rush in assailing the enemy form. The Tui Caliditas Division divided into two, one route chanted a symphony of shaman bells, sweeping disruption around the outer ring; another route scaled in and specialized in hitting the weak spots. With this quick assault, they disrupted the Southern Army out of form. Yet the curious thing was, despite the surprise raid of a powerful force and the disorderly marches of the foot soldiers, the southern army remained faithful to the order flags, and kept on their consistent morphology. If they were truly this calm and fearless, then it would be akin to some “brute strength let them be, cool breeze ‘round the mound²” manner of air. However, in the Southern army, there was none beneath the commander who wasn’t shivering with terror from head to toe, but they were still marching orderly in their completely useless formations, looking both pitiful and pathetic.

Qu Fongning watched on with erupting fury. “These southern people know nothing of war, they are as stupid as wooden chickens and clay dogs,” he said.

“You can’t all blame the foolishness and doggedness of their commanders. Who let their old Emperor Zhao Ting to have such grand talent and strategy, wanting to direct from behind the curtains and dreaming to claim victory from a thousand li away,” said Yujien.

Qu Fongning heard the contempt and scorn from his voice, his heart shuddered, and dared to ask no more. Then he saw, beneath the southern banners, there protected a commanding officer within the heavy troops of shields. Pinning his vision, he only observed this character being extremely slim and weak, his body clad in bulks of leather and heavy armor, and almost immovable. His figure slanted on the horse and seemed ready to fall any time. He almost couldn’t believe it and asked, “That is their leader? How is he in this sickly shape?”

Yujien laughed. “Don’t judge on his appearance, he’s got background. His name is Chu Mingwang, he’s the Southern Right Chancellor, Chu Bogong’s nephew, who situates high himself within the Hanlin Academy³. Fabulous brush of blooming flowers, he’s got an expert hand in writing papers.”

“Isn’t that a civil magistrate? Why is he on the battlefield?” brooded Qu Fongning.

Then he saw a man in red holding an official scroll and screaming in a shrill pitch, “Guards! Come round! See who dares to touch me!”

This voice sounded particularly strange; it was as thin as a woman, yet the vocal was a man. So he asked, “General, what kind of person is that?”

“That’s a eunuch,” said Yujien. His brow creased at saying these words, seeming in disgust.

“What’s a eunuch?” Qu Fongning asked curiously.

This question really stumped Yujien, who paused, and then explained, “It’s… a man on the top, and a woman on the bottom.”

And Qu Fongning seemed to comprehend it, but not quite. “That is certainly strange. I wonder if Qu Lyn will like it?” he mused.

By this point, nearly a hundred southern shielding units had surrounded Qu Mingwang and the eunuch minister, almost looking akin to a miniature directing turret. A bearded cavalry and Infantry sub-commander was issuing orders with a treble voice, directing to move those two away from the formation. The eunuch remained unmoving. “Zhou Wang, insubordination! Dare you to defy the holy emperor’s orders?”

“Li Rongen, you man-less castrated scum, shut your trap!” roared the deputy-commander named Zhou Wang, and urged Chu Mingwang to wave the signal flag. The deathly stiff formation of the Southern Army finally changed, and the Ghost Army’s divided in and out attacks stagnated in momentary deadlock.

Yujien sneered darkly, and took down his quarter moon, plain black longbow. Suddenly, his heart had a turn. “Ningning, here!” He passed the bow into his hand and said, “let’s see if you practiced the new split shot I’ve taught.”

Qu Fongning’s scalp numbed. “You’re testing the bow skill now?” he silently cursed. And had to take over the longbow, he turned and crossed over his shoulder to pick up a black tailed heavy arrow. Seeing him looking expectantly at himself, he gritted his teeth and took another one, and nocked both arrows on the string.

Yujien’s bow was incomparably heavy, and the tension was no less than a thousand jin. He used all his might, but still couldn’t pull a half arc. Yujien held his tensed up right hand, motioned him to release his finger, and slid the thumb ring “Iron Blood” into the string fold. It slotted in seamlessly like mortise and tenon. He was suddenly enlightened. “So this thumb ring is meant to complement this bow?” he said.

“Mn, your strength is lacking, so you need it for assistance,” said Yujien, and helped him draw full the bow, even the two ends of the bow arms buckled up.

Qu Fongning had no choice, made a silent apology in his heart, focused his senses, calmed his heart, and let his finger go. With a ringing of string, two beams of black light shot towards the Southern Army’s formation. Zhou Wang saw the perilous approach of the arrow rays — “Protect the commander!” he howled. But before the Southern shielding units could raise their shields, they heard a shrill shriek; the eunuch minister’s forehead was struck with a long black arrow. It impaled through his skull and ended all the way to the feathered tail. And Chu Mingwang tensed somewhat on the horse, then his nose and mouth suddenly ebbed blood and—a low thud—he fell down the horseback. Zhou Wang rushed forth to look, and only saw a black arrow penetrated deep through his heart. It had smashed the leather and heavy armor in front of his chest to pieces.

Yujien watched the exquisite superbness of Qu Fongning’s shot. “Good child!” he commended with a smile.

The Southern Army witnessed both their commander and the Army Supervisor shot dead simultaneously, screamed in horror, and fell into chaos.

Zhou Wang’s eye hollows cracked in the rage. “Who harmed my commander?” he howled hoarsely.

“You dare to ask my name?” Yujien answered sinisterly. Holding Qu Fongning by the waist with his left hand, he danced Flowing Fire with his right and charged his steed into the chaotic carnage. His lance was exceedingly hot and heavy. Where it went, seven and eight southern soldiers’ heads shattered apart and their limbs torn alight. The unbroken sweep was akin to a long gale gliding across a rye field, only it was the Southern Army cowering one after another, and the air became suffused with the stench of burnt flesh. The remaining soldiers witnessed this atrocious display, all lost their courage and spirit, and started to flee and scatter. “Crane wings!” bellowed Yujien. Kan Aqua and Tui Caliditas Division spread into wings, sealed the escape route of the Southern Army, and slaughtered with abandon.

Qu Fongning fastened his eyes shut, held tight to Yujien’s chest, and only heard the whoosh of the lance rasping by his ear. Yujien felt the hand holding on to him catching tighter and tighter, and thought he had become sleepy. “This is all very boring, eh?” He held up his body, and let him hold Flowing Fire. “Let you kill a few for game!” He chuckled.

This lance had a hundred and forty jin, and adding on the air resistance, how could Qu Fongning wield it? As soon as he held the lance gripe, he almost fell down the horse. Yujien guffawed, extended his arm in support, and put his own hand over the lance gripe. The grip handle was a section of black sedimentary jade, and it was warm upon touch. Yujien held Qu Fongning in his arms, but the force with which he brandished the lance did not reduce at all. With a flash of red, the lance thrusted into a young soldier’s abdomen. The little soldier was not older than fifteen or sixteen. At that moment he hadn’t yet died, and was shrieking from the burn, “Mama! Mama!”

“A perfectly good man, but no spine at all!” Yujien scoffed and tossed away the burnt carcass. Then he raised his eyes to survey the surroundings, and saw, standing by the formation tail, the cavalry and Infantry deputy-commander, barehanded, gawking and shouting hoarsely at him, “Chienye Ghost Sovereign, Yujien Tianhuang?”

Yujien retracted his lance and stirred his steed. “That’s right,” he said.

Zhou Wang cackled two laughs, sounding exceedingly stringent, and blood veins exploded in his eyes. He gritted one word after another: “My father, my brother, and my son all died by your hands. Our blood feud is as deep as the sea, and irreconcilable under the same heaven.”

Yujien replied indifferently: “Adding you on, your family of old and young can all reunite beneath the soils today.”

Zhou Wang released a harrowing laugh, then his body suddenly slumped and fell backwards.

Yujien didn’t expect him to die so anticlimactically. He sneered and rode back into formation.

However, in an instant, the right arm of Zhou Wang’s cadaver shifted slightly and a raven beam shot out from the sleeve, yet it was shooting directly at Qu Fongning.

Yujien glowered, moved Flowing Fire with his right hand, and slashed down the raven bolt before the horse. His left-hand one-armed the whole bow draw and release procedure, and a black arrow boomed towards Zhou Wang, sending his cadaver leaping up from rest, repelling backwards a great distance, and finally slamming again on the ground.

Qu Fongning witnessed this astonishing turn of events in a brief span, and didn’t turn around his senses within the moment. “General, what’s that?” he asked, stupefied.

Yujien trotted his steed across Zhou Wang’s corpse. His lance tip grappled up an object from its arm. “It’s a mechanical crossbow. Wretched southern dog dares to harm you!” he said icily.

Qu Fongning took it over for examination. It was a dark and heavy wooden box, lightweight and compact, and could be bound beneath the sleeve. There was a trigger by the mouth, which sent out powerful bolts. He turned it back and forth and asked, “Can I have this?”

“Take it if you like it,” said Yujien. He stomped the lance, blasting the corpse to shreds.

By this time, the Fanshwar garrison troops and the Ghost Army were chasing down the remnant soldiers together, as the Southern Army was nearing complete annihilation. Royal Prince Badama, with his face smeared with blood and soil, his black fur coat tattered, and a golden trident full of dents, was being helped up a horse. Seeing Yujien standing by on horse and lance, he scoffed, “Yujien Tianhung, don’t expect I will be indebted to you!”

Yujien chuckled. “I haven’t congratulated on the Lord Prince’s new conjugal joys. Have I offended Your Highness in missing the reception drink?” he called long and far.

Badama was silent. “The grievance of the wife robbery shall never be forgotten!” he said. As he finished, he swung the banners and led the remaining Za’yii troops away.

Something moved in Qu Fongning’s heart, and recalling what Qu Sharraugh said, he thought, “So the General’s late wife, Princess Consort Namir, was going to marry this person.”

Yujien didn’t mind at all. He saw the mask almost falling down Qu Fongning’s face and adjusted it for him. By now, the Fanshwar garrison troop captain also came up in greetings and adulating Chienye’s comradeship, and made an utmost effort to invite Yujien into the City for a sit. The Shezaar City Lord also came out in person, thus he had to accede to the invitation.

A moment later, the host promptly invited Yujien to the seat of honor at the banquet in the Shezaar City Lord’s grand ger. And soon the host and the guest were drinking with merriment, and all was in harmony.

“Who was the one in the General’s arms, with the silver mask, and split shot two Southern leaders at once today?” inquired the Fanshwar captain, laughing.

Yujien smiled. “He who sits before the Ghost Sovereign is, of course, a little ghostling of my house,” he said.

“Such a valiant ghostling! How could you not let us see him?” hustled the crowd.

Yujien smiled but said nothing. One of his subordinate officers was high with drink and chortled with inflated nerves. “Dream on! You don’t know how much our general treasures him, whom he usually hides with such security, and always together from dawn to dusk, laying and rising …” Seeing Yujien eyeing him coldly, he immediately yielded, “General, mercy please! It’s all Grand Chamberlain Oyghrmuki!”

“Very well, just wait until I go back to soak him tight,” said Yujien darkly.

Presently, Oyghrmuki was going through the spoils of the battle before the city walls, and sneezed many a sneeze from out of nowhere.

Once the Fanshwar troops heard it, they bustled further, demanding to see. “You’re all firing against me!” Yujien laughed, and called towards the back, “Little ghostling, come on!”

Qu Fongning was hiding in the rear room, heard people clamoring in demands of seeing him, and felt terribly embarrassed. Hearing Yujien’s call, he had to lift the silver mask to his forehead, drape over the white mink coat, and came to salute the crowd.

People watched and saw that he was such a young and handsome youth. They roared with raucous cheers, and at once there were people coming for toasts.

“He doesn’t drink much, give it to me,” Yujien intercepted. He sent him a look, meaning him to get back in.

His slight motions were immediately captured by the City Lord, who teased, “The General is truly caring and protective. I wonder, is this a favored champion, or a favorite?”

Yujien laughed, peered at Qu Fongning, and found him leaning against the corner, making hand gestures: None of the two!

“Lord Ghost Sovereign,” the serving wench by the City Lord’s feet suddenly inquired, “I dare ask, is the youth just now the champion of this year’s Autumn Contests of your honored country?”

“How do you know?” Yujien said with surprise.

“I’ve heard this youth champion is matchless in archery, handsome without peer, and very young in age, only fifteen or sixteen. Apart from him, I can’t think of another,” said the serving wench.

“Such grand name! It’s even spread here?” Yujien said, laughing.

“Your honored country has a song going around,” the serving wench smiled, and followed to sing, “—a princess is not my wish, I ask for the Damu’s weeping whip!”

Weeping whip is a special custom of courtship on the steppes. When a man rides past a maiden and he would turn around to drop his whip. If the maiden means it, she will extend her hand to grab the whip tail, and let the man take her on the horseback. The two thus ride as one towards eternal happiness. Qu Fongning defeated Prince Allonby on the Autumn Contests, and the girls admire his valor and since have no interest in even becoming the princess consort.

Yujien listened and was about to tease him, turned to look, and found Qu Fongning, wrapped in the mink coat, already asleep against the wall. Yujien had snatched him up the horse and he didn’t even have time to put on boots. By now his legs had straightened out, revealing a foot in a thin cloth sock. At the mouth of the short sock, the two golden bells hang on his slender ankle.

A peculiar feeling suddenly roused in his heart, unfathomable as complacent pride, or loving tenderness.

Fortunately, the city lord and captains rushed forth in toasts, the cups and bowls exchanged in rounds, and the air animated with high spirits. And that momentary curious sentiment also dissipated like smoke and clouds.

Qu Fongning woke up dizzily, felt his lower body dangling in jolts, and concluded he must be on a horse. His body was very warm; he was wrapped with legs curled up in Yujien’s arms. Even the tips of his toes were snug and cozy. And he opened his lips for a call, “General.”

Yujien answered. “Almost there.”

He looked at the sky and saw a touch of pale to the east. He rubbed his eyes, the sleep not yet receded, and climbed out of Yujien’s arms. His misty eyes subconsciously stared at the grisly demon mask.

Yujien felt his gaze, and lowered to look at him, signaling a question, “Mn?”

Qu Fongning extended his hand to graze his mask. “General, your face is so good looking. Why are you covering it?” he enquired.

Yujien put his hand back. “Because I am born with an extraordinary vision; I can see double the distance and in the dark. For plains and night battles, these eyes are especially important. There’s no other way, so it must be covered.”

But Oyghrmuki laughed gruffly from the back. “Little Syr, he’s lying! What vision? Let me tell you, when the General was young, because he was too handsome, during warring confrontations, the enemy often jeered insults…. ahhh!” He gave a long shriek; he must have been poked by Yujien’s lance.

Yujien retracted his weapon, and spoke nonchalantly to Qu Fongning, “Don’t listen to him.”

“Mn, I won’t listen,” Qu Fongning replied solemnly.

But his eyes were pure and clear and entirely filled with smiles. Yujien threw Flowing Fire towards Oyghrmuki and burrowed his hand in to ice him. Qu Fongning quivered all around from his icy pokes, and wrapped around his neck in laughing supplication, “Forgot it! I forgot it all!” Yujien asked, “What did you forget?” And he giggled, unable to speak again.

Yujien motioned to ferret his hand in again, but saw the City of Ghosts in his peripheral vision, the sentries were standing in order, and had to let him go.

Qu Fongning’s sharp eye peered at a slightly hunched figure by the city gates. It was Uncle Hwei, who didn’t find him coming home all night, and came to look. But the sentries didn’t understand his sign language, hence he could learn nothing, and had to wait by the gates.

Yujien heard him call cheerily, “Uncle Hwei!” And his arms hollowed; Qu Fongning had already leaped off the horse. Uncle Hwei was both surprised and accusatory and immediately started making hand gestures. It must be asking what he was doing all night. Qu Fongning’s entire body pounced on him, and wasn’t trying to explain in seriousness; It was all plain fawns and cajoles.

Yujien drove the horse gradually by his side and tossed the silvery white mink coat towards him. “I’ll send your clothes over later,” he said.

Qu Fongning hugged the mink coat, and raising his head, he replied, “I’ll come get it this evening!”

Yujien nodded and spurred the horse towards the gates. Uncle Hwei bowed deep in salute.

Then he heard a chime of rings. Qu Fongning had climbed onto Uncle Hwei’s back, and wrapped the mink coat around themselves. Uncle Hwei piggy-backed him, adjusted the lift, and started slowly towards Lord Princes Qu’s territories.

Yujien parked his horse and watched for a while, and then finally turned to enter the city.

~

Qu Fongning buried himself in Uncle Hwei’s shoulder blades for a long time, before finally asking in a humming mumble,

“Uncle Hwei, have you killed your tribesmen before?”

Uncle Hwei halted a pace and slowly started onwards once more. Qu Fongning buried himself again on his shoulder and said no more.

~

Unwittingly, many days passed by, and the southbound date approached near. Qu Lyn continued to practice martial arts with Qu Fongning whenever he was free. This day he brought up Little Ting’yu in casual conversation, and jokingly mentioned that Princess Tuzai had recently been asking people for inquiries on his household. But they don’t know whether it was she helping her boudoir girlfriends to build bridges and pull strings, or it was herself who had the thoughts.

Qu Fongning listened with novel interest. “Little General is getting married?” he asked.

Qu Lyn leaned against the wall, his wrists turning in a fury, practicing the ram stab, as he heard he sneered. “That cousin of mine, so sick as to never see the light of day, and with legs like that; you don’t know whether he can get his lower half hard! There’s really somebody who’s taking fancy in him, that is some unique taste,” he said.

“He can,” Qu Fongning said casually.

“How do you know?” Qu Lyn asked quizzically.

Qu Fongning curved the corner of his lips, but didn’t respond. “If he gets married, then my spell would expire,” he thought.

Qu Lyn didn’t really care, and said offhandedly, “Allonby is rather irritable lately. With you not in front of his eyes, who do you think this trouble will land on?”

A light shifted across Qu Fongning’s eyes, and he lowered his lashes. A moment later, he sent the mechanical crossbow he got from Zhou Wang’s corpse into Songshr’s hands, and asked her to deliver it to Little Ting’yu when she could.

~

The day before departure, Yujien taught him the method of “Connecting Jewels.” This technique required successive shots like chaining beads on a thread. The emphasis pursued velocity, precision, concentration, and rapidity; to give them no time to breathe. Yujien started with a demonstration of ten successive arrows; it was one soaring black ray, with the head linking all the way to the tail, stretched like a black dragon and showed no trace of connection. Qu Fongning tried his ox cleaver on the chicken, and it turned out pretty decent. He had painstakingly practiced the sky mesh hands for eight years, and spent at least seven and a half of those years hard on swiftness. Here, what he needed was precisely the speed at the start and finish. Thus, it was really a swim for a fish, and right up in his alley. Before a moment had passed, he already became adept at two successive shots. He sent two arrows in flight and integrated both into a uniform body, completely distinguishable between the former or the latter. Yujien had only just returned to the ger to pour a cup of wine, turned to look, and was utterly astounded. And he made up his mind to break his hands for certain. Qu Fongning instantly put forth his silver gloved hands in front of him, and urged with great audacity, “Break it!” And was immediately iced several times, and he dared no more.

When he came in for break, Yujien teased him again, “When the Southerners peddle wares along the streets, they often like to do an arrow hurling game. By then, all our meals and expenses en route will all depend on your bow.”

Qu Fongning nodded in honest earnestness. “Okay! I guarantee no arrows will be missed, and will never slip my hand. I wonder what the General likes to eat, meat jerky or butter naan?”

Yujien resisted his laugh. “All’s well. I like anything you give me,” he said. And saw that he was drooling intensely, he extended the liquor bowl in his hand to feed him a sip.

Qu Fongning drank the sip, jovial in tipsiness, and made a small hiccup of satisfaction. He patted his chest, and regarded him with his cheeks in his hands.

Yujien raised the bowl in signal. “Want more?”

Qu Fongning shook his head. “General, us going to Jiangnan, are we really going to play?” he asked.

Yujien drank a sip himself. “You little kid, ‘course you’re going to play,” he replied.

“Then are you going to play with me?” Qu Fongning asked hastily.

Yujien pinched him. “Us grownups are really busy. How can we be as careless as you?” he said.

Qu Fongning immediately sat up straight and puffed up his little chest, showing that he was a grownup too.

Yujien suddenly hooked him around, looping him into his arms. “Little monkey pretending to be a grownup!”

Qu Fongning was caught off-guard, fell entirely upon his chest, and the bridge of his nose collided hard with pain. Thus, he simply sat with his legs around him, faced him with his head lifted, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and spoke in a buzz, “’m serious!”

Yujien finally answered with a laugh, “Fine, serious. It’s not a serious affair! Just going to see a couple people, and steal something.”

“Steal?” Qu Fongning said, surprised. His eyes were full of disbelief. Is there really something so rare and precious that even this big shot cannot get his hands on it, and has to use this cock crowing, dog thieving word steal?

“Mn, do you remember the Silk Mother we got from Young’ching? Spring next year, these green silk moths will mate and produce offsprings, spin silk and make cocoons. Raw silk is worthless. Only when you weave it into shine, light, soft, and texture, can it be sold and trade. Our tribe does not excel in this craft; harvest, boil, reel, and spin, all are bound to require no lack of external help. The Southern Empire has soaked lustily in this art for thousands of years; they are exquisite in this regard. This trip south of ours is thus going to steal this process of weaving,” said Yujien.

Qu Fongning didn’t understand much, and nodded clumsily. “So, we’re going to get the methods of making clothes.” After some thought, he spoke again, “General, you don’t really have to steal. The southerners are so scared of you, just give them a holler, wouldn’t they just send it up obediently?”

“We’ll take it in secret, and not let them know. If the southerners take caution, it would be very inconvenient for our work,” said Yujien. Seeing that he remained perplexed, he continued, “Chienye is not rich in production. We have raised the country from warfare for many years, wasting finances and siring common bitterness. If we have the art of textile in our hands, that would be a golden money-making plan. Then everyone can make money in peace. What do you say? We can’t always have war.”

When Qu Fongning heard his last sentence, at once, an ineffable, overwhelming euphoria surged in his chest; and he wanted very much to hug him. Between now and then, he was also shocked himself. “Why am I so happy?” he wondered.

Yujien saw him looking at himself dazedly, and with a curious glint in his eyes. He touched his head. “Why, you like war?” he said, smiling.

“No,” said Qu Fongning. He lifted his hand and probed to touch his face.

Ever since he had glimpsed his true form on the night to Shezaar City, Yujien also took joy in relieving the mask in his presence. At this moment, he could only feel his light, calloused fingers gently caressing his face. “Mn?” he questioned.

Qu Fongning raised his face and fixed his gaze on him. “Only if the magistrate in charge of weaving is a woman,” he said.

Yujien knew what he was going to say, and wrapped around his back.

As expected, Qu Fongning said, in rustles, “No matter what kind of woman, if the General would look at them like this, and ask deeply ‘give me it!’ For sure they would throw away their helm and mail, and give everything to you. They would probably also abandon their husband and children, and willingly come back to Chienye with you.”

Yujien looked at his eyes, dark and bright and regarding him in twinkles, and couldn’t help letting a low chuckle. “Not necessarily. Perhaps what they prefer is a handsome youth. And as soon as they see you, their heart will be rapt with joy, and will sooner keep you there!”

“You’ll permit it?” Qu Fongning giggled.

Seeing him grinning with complacency, “The old boy can’t wait!” said Yujien, and drove his hand to ice him. Unfortunately, he had been sitting inside for too long, and his hand wasn’t so cold. Thus, Qu Fongning wasn’t so scared, and embraced him for a good laugh. Suddenly, he ahhed, stopped and said, “We going to steal something, isn’t that right on my brother Cher’er’s livelihood?”

Yujien had seen this god thief Cher’er’s style. Right now, he was in good spirits, and hence said, “Won’t hurt to take him along.”

Qu Fongning clapped his hands and laughed cheerily. “That’s great! Ever since he heard I was going to Jiangnan, he’d been gabbling by my ear hundreds of times every day, telling me to take home treasures for him, ten! I almost puked from his gabs!” he said.

“What’s so hard about that?” He pointed a finger towards the storage at the rear cliff. “There’s a ton over there, you go pick yourself!”

“Ten?” Qu Fongning confirmed carefully.

Yujien pulled over the wolf head throne, flopped back, and waved his hand. “Take as long as you can lift it.”

Qu Fongning was afraid that he would back out, and instantly rolled out, dashing towards that dingy and unremarkable storage room. Which didn’t seem very important, for even the bronze bolt of the lock wasn’t latched on. He entered with only a light push.

As the curtains dropped, glistening sparkles blazed his eyes. Qu Fongning stood paralyzed at the threshold, unable to take a single step.

Hundreds and thousands of curios and rarities piled full the storeroom. Pearls and jadeites, crystalline horses, golden buddhas, jade and coral… There were antiques, paintings and calligraphies, standing screens, porcelain, and counting on and on, and there were objects he had never seen and could not name. The entire storeroom radiated halos of magnificence, and a dark fragrance permeated the space; it was a treasure cave.

He held his breath and walked gingerly past the mountains of treasures. He saw a coral tree with shining red sheen and dark jewel fruits standing by one side, almost as tall as he was, with crisscrossing branches, and every one of them as thick as his arm. Then he saw, strewn on a white jade round chair, golden buddhas, Guanyin, various western buddhas, and every one of them vivid in expression and solemn in countenance, but were all sitting in dust. There were jadeite horses on the ground. He had seen one at Lord Prince Qu’s house, handsome and gallant, with half the size of an actual horse, and apparently a gift from Prince Huainan. Qu Sharraugh adored it immensely, displayed it right by his chair in the main hall, and caressed it day and night; even its body became sleek from his polish. Yujien had eight of these in this storeroom, each a unique posture, faithfully lifelike, and unknown to be how many times more valuable than the one of Lord Prince Qu’s. But they were just haphazardly dumped here. There was even one that fell on the ground that no one bothered to help it up; it was as if they were somebody else’s trash and rags. He had thought Lord Prince Qu had been the pinnacle of wealth, now looking at it, he wasn’t even considered an upper middle class, and more like an impoverished pauper.

He admired and envied for a good while before noticing the western corner had parked a colossal object; it was rectangular and properly covered up by a dark silken shroud. His heart shifted, and he strutted towards it. Extending his hand with a pull, the dark silk fell down easily, and seven or eight round pearls also followed in the drop.

In an instant, a profusion of jewel light rippled out in sprawls, illuminating the storeroom as bright as daylight. He squinted momentarily in acclimation and roughly made out the object before his eyes.

It was a pitch-black wheelhouse, with the four walls of the interior studded full of twinkling starlike pearls.

“This is the coach that beautiful princess rode to marry him,” he thought.

Suddenly, an intense inclination sprang into his heart, wanting to look inside the car. He leaped and landed on the driver’s box. There was a bronze spine round umbrella. The driver must have been someone of great status, unlike the common coachman, and must not be blazed by the sun. He carefully avoided the umbrella skeleton and stood up. And he saw a line of bubbling shine mounting on the cap of the car, with a pigeon egg sized pearl securing the center. It sat on a lotus shaped pedestal, which was made small and dainty. The roof pearls could turn at liberty on the pedestal, hence they weren’t damaged at all, and the falloff was minimal.

He pulled open the half-shut dark wood door, and discovered the interior to be extremely spacious and wouldn’t feel tight with even twenty people sitting in. A thick layer of gold threaded velvet blanket lined the floor, unknown to be smoked by what mysterious perfumes, and was diffusing a deep, low fragrance.

He leaned against the door, fingers tracing the golden toothed floral patterns on the carpet, and fell lost in a reverie.

Then he suddenly heard someone chuckle by the threshold. “What’s taking you so long? Getting spirals in your eyes from hard shopping?” he said.

Rising his head to look, Yujien’s towering figure was crossing this fluttering jewel haze, coming towards him.

He remained immersed in his phantasy. “General, this is the carriage you married Consort Na with?” he asked.

Yujien stopped before him. “Yeah,” he said.

Qu Fongning regarded his handsome face enveloped in the shining jewel light. “Do you miss her?” he enquired lightly.

As soon as he said it, he felt a little regret. With his current position, this inquiry was somewhat intrusive.

Yujien also didn’t expect he would ask this, paused and said, “It’s alright.” Extending his hand to him, he said mildly, “She’s already dead. What’s the difference if you miss her or not.”

Qu Fongning’s lips parted; he wanted to ask something, but resisted and took his hand. “General, this carriage of yours is really grand and swell! When you get married again, you must let me drive the coach!” he said with a small laugh.

Yujien’s eyes moved, he was going to say, “It would be better if you just sit nicely in the car.” But as the words came to his lips, it became, “Childish words. How can I marry again? This coachman of yours is not to be.” Extending his arms, he carried him off.

And in the following morning, each with their unspoken words, they set off towards the lingering winter of Jiangnan.

~

Third month, late spring, Apricot Blossom Misty Rain Terrace.

At dawn break, as the crowd rushes into the market, the calling and hawking of the peddlers fill along on the two sides of the greenstone bridge, with their oilcloth stalls extending to the middle of the street. Take a look, there are cabbage wrapped buns, crispy handrolls, steamed buns, and silvery flower twists. Bend your head, and there seems to be everything, everywhere. And anyone with a couple of coins going for a stroll on the bridge can feel like a worldly man of wealth. The backs are instantly strengthened, and their flairs are pulled up at once. Those with long gowns will surely lift one side of their hem, and reveal the snow-white soles of their black fabric shoes. When others see it, they will know that this is an erudite gentleman of decent stature. The chuffs in straw sandals and yellow calf pants are appearing extra demure in this bustling market. Even those sycophants with eager bows and nods have all tucked away the manner with which they beat their wives and children just the night before. Various carved illustrations covers the balustrades of bridges, some about nocturnal reading by the fireflies⁴, and some about breaking wall to steal light⁵. Thus, one can see that the local magistrate of this place must also be an elegant and studious character.

Before the railing boards, Bamboo bins and baskets of various sizes sit in a line, selling seasonal fruits and vegetables. The grocers are not in a hurry, because once the morning passes, no one will buy the buns and pancakes, but who doesn’t like to eat peaches, apricots, and plums? Who wouldn’t buy a couple to eat throughout the day? And a clever man has erected a banner with the illustration of the twelve zodiacs, each with a bubble pin on the body. On his arm, he wears a dozen bamboo hoops. Whoever can loop a hoop on a bubble pin can take away a peach or apricot for free. These prizes are not all the same either. If you hoop the pig, you only get four apricots. But looping the dragon is very different. If you hoop that, you can get eight peaches and apricots. When the others hear such a good deal, they all swarm in like a cove of bees, coming into the loop. Yet before long, all return with drooped wings. When they ask him for more hoops, it will cost money and are no longer free. These hoops aren’t cheap either, each costing two whole coins. Some people cannot resist the opportunity to catch a pale wolf with bare hands, hooping once, and will want another. Although in the end they leave with a couple of apricots, something still doesn’t feel right in their chest. And as they reflect it on the way back. Eh! Shouldn’t one jin of apricots only cost ten cents? Isn’t this a huge scam? Yet there is nowhere to complain their grievances. Who made them go for the deal? Thus, they have to swallow the deficit. Only the vendor couldn’t be happier. Because he has earned a full bushel of coins, and the peaches and apricots are still mounting high in stacks. You can’t even tell that they have lessened. When he goes home, even his usually rough wife applauds his ability. Thus, on the second day he comes again with the banner, and hawks as soon as he parts his lips, “Come by! Pass by! Take a look! Peaches, apricots, free for all!”

But today, things didn’t go as he wished. For there was a dirty, annoying little kid always coming and sneaking about. If he stared at him, he would put his hands in the pockets and have his rear towards the peaches, showing his innocence. As soon as he turned to give customers bamboo hoops, the kid would swiftly grab two large apricots and stuff it to his mouth. By the time he returned with the money, he was only left with the cores. This really set him off, and he gave chase at once. The kid went for the run, but he couldn’t go too far, for the stall could not. So, he had to come back angrily. But turning to look again, he almost erupted in fury. That kid came back as well, and was furtively touching his apricots! Seeing him glaring at him, he even sniggered. His rage mounted further. Grabbing a couple of rotten peaches and apricot cores, he hurled at the despicable thief, who instantly ducked like a mouse, and went left and right behind the pedestrians for shelter. In his plight, he saw a man in black silk sitting by an umbrella stand, broad shoulders and stocky back, and looking like somebody who can fortify. He forthwith dashed behind this man. Caught off guard, the plum seller didn’t stop in time, and slipped half of a rotten peach on this man’s trousers. And it instantly splattered a plot of sticky juice, soiling the silk.

The unfortunate man stopped, dumbfounded. Clothes of this quality were something his daughter could not wear even on her wedding. What level of wealth could wear this to stroll casually on the streets? If asked for compensation, he wouldn’t be able to cover it from an entire year of apricot sales. This was not to be dealt with lightly, and he immediately went up in simpering apology and took his sleeve to obsequious rubs at his trousers. This man was easy to talk to. Seeing his dirty sleeve rubbing in great vigor but further smearing the splotch, he didn’t ire, and only said, “It’s okay.”

In tears of gratitude, the poor man thanked and returned to his hoop sales. Before he left, he stole another glance. He found this master stout in build and handsome in looks. Him sitting there stalwart and imposing, even the Chu warlord⁶ in the theatres and mighty statues of General Guan⁷ in the temples could not compare with his air. How would he be someone to dispute over a gown or spoiled peach?

The kid watched him leave but did not budge. He remained scrunching behind the man’s back, sucking at his fingers. There was probably residual sweetness of apricots on his hand. The man therefore extended his arm and lifted him up.

With his broad chest and long arm, this lift was akin to a giant tiger grabbing a little chick. Being hung in mid-air, the kid was not scared, and even cackled, as if he had never played such an exciting game. The man tossed him up, and caught his waist again. His palm was humongous, as he could hold the kid’s waist with a single hand. The child became evermore jubilant and started clapping clear and loud in the air.

On a tavern by the adjacent street, a young man in pale yellow and longsword by his waist caught this scene. He took interest in the watch and heard nothing of what his Sixth Shixiong⁸ said from the other side of the wooden table.

Sixth Shixiong continued to talk to himself.

“…Public rumors are devastating, by the time it gets into shifu⁹’s ears, you don’t know what it will become! Little Shidi¹⁰, you better return to the mount, and report to shifu yourself. Shidi? Little Shidi…Zhu Jing Shidi!”

He finally reverted his senses and answered blankly, “Shixiong, who are you talking to?”

Yang Yan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “I am talking to an idiot!” Lifted the bamboo stick and pointed a stroke of Light as Pale Jade¹¹ towards his face. Its tip retracted slightly, wanting to direct his gaze back. Zhu Jing, without consideration, slanted the teacup, and returned with a stroke of Sky Terrace Dawn Moon¹² in answer. The martial brothers had been sparring for years, and knew each other like streams within water. A clear clink, Yang Yan’s bamboo stick halted perfectly beneath the teacup, sending the mouth right before his lips. He let out a dry laugh and lowered for a sip of pale tea.

“Fortunately, not an idiot yet,” said Yang Yan. He returned the chopstick and started eating the chicken mushroom noodle soup before him.

“I was lost in thought just now. I really didn’t hear you,” Zhu Jing apologized. Seeing him gouging like a wolf with grease all over his lips, he counseled, “Shixiong, haste not in consumption. It’s best to chew and swallow slow.”

Sucking his noodles, Yang Yan mumbled, “Little Shidi, you talk more and more like shifu, all fussy jabbers and pernickety gabbles.”

Zhu Jing listened to his four-word commentary, and couldn’t help letting out a laugh. “Shifu is known across the river and lands for her bold candidness on par with men. She might not take well to your comment,” he said solemnly, then asked, “What did Shixiong want me to report just now?”

Yang Yan, with half a mouth-full of noodles on his lips, swung the chopsticks, meaning to talk about it later. A server looking girl was coming bunglingly up the stairs with a lacquer plate. The noise shook the building loud enough to move grounds and mountains. She apparently had a belly full of ill temper, and hollered as soon as she arrived, “Who ordered the pickled egg mincemeat porridge?”

“I did!” Zhu Jing raised his hand.

The girl turned angrily, but when she saw Zhu Jing’s face, the temper evaporated, and her strut shook no further. She placed his porridge on the table, and spoke awkwardly, “Here… here!”

“Thank you, miss,” said Zhu Jing. The porridge was pale, looking pitifully unappetizing. He thus asked, “Are there pickled vegetables on the house? Could you please fill me a dish?”

The girl gripped on her apron and answered in a stutter, “Yes, yes, I’ll go get some for you right now!” She turned and gushed down like the wind.

Yang Yan couldn’t resist snickering from the show. “Before we came down the mountain, our venerable Shifu had bid me ‘Your Zhu Shidi is gentle, polite, and disciplined, and would never make trouble out of his own accord. There is only one thing I worry about, that is his inherent appearance being too exceptional. He is also young. It might be difficult to guard against some heretical harpies throwing themselves into his arms and ruin his reputation. Heros often had a hard time at the gates of beauties. I believe in this child’s character. But those demons of unorthodox paths, you never know what sorts of lower nine methods they might use, they are beyond one’s defenses.’” He saw the scantness of his white porridge, with only three or five pieces of finger sized pickled egg and two or three shreds of lean meat, and took some poultry threads from his own to his.

Zhu Jing clapped in gratitude. “Thank you, Shixiong,” and he said, “It’s my first entrance into the lakes and rivers, of course Shifu could not rest easy. But as long as I am polite to the others, I’m sure they can’t pull down their face to challenge me. Moreover, with ‘Iron Serpent’ Yang Shixiong sitting guard by my side, who would dare to come bother?”

Yang Yan waved. “Shixiong is not as good as you think. I couldn’t even block that last rumor of yours.”

Their martial brotherhood all apprenticed under the Grandmaster of the Western branch of Jiuhua Sect — “Falling Flowers Counting Green,” Cui Yumei. Following the Head Disciple Zhou Mo, everyone had a code name within the milieu of rivers and lakes¹³. Their titles were all mighty and resonant too: “Silver Steed” Zhou Mo, “Golden Hawk” Zong Yan, “Iron Serpent” Yang Yan, and such. All sounding as exact as charging cavalries with shining arms, and just like how the candid and easy-spirited martial brothers of the river lands should be. However, only this youngest disciple, because of his exceptional appearance and polite conduct, as soon as he entered the public domain, received the chic title of “Jade Qilin.” When others heard this, they could easily imagine what sort of jade face and rosy lip, beautiful young man he must be. As to the height of his martial ability or reputation of honor, those all go behind his appearance. Yang Yan was most displeased, but he couldn’t stop the common mouths. Furthermore, sisters from the sects between good and evil sprawled the news, and all came in eagerness to behold this pretty sight. Once they saw him, the talks went on behind their sleeve covered giggles, saying things like, “Little four, Shijie¹⁴ didn’t lie to you eh?” “So the Jade Qilin is not an empty title!” And all manners of shameless words. When Yang Yan went to interject, they even repudiated him tooth and nail, “Your Shidi had grown so pretty, what’s the big deal letting us a gander? It’s not like we are going to take a piece of him. What about Jiuhua Sect? Just because you are from some noble clan doesn’t mean you ought to be so unreasonable.” And it turned out that he was being unreasonable.

Zhu Jing didn’t mind, and consoled him instead, “It’s all just the courtesy of the friends on the path. Let them call whatever they like! We’re not hurt in any way. Shixiong, don’t put it on your heart!”

Yang Yan paused his utensil and grinned into a squint. “The plum blossoms in Jiangzhou and the white elephants in Qingzhou didn’t hurt as well?”

Zhu Jing froze, then raised his head. Yang Yan heckled. “Shifu would’ve never thought what you stirred up, from coming down the mount this time, wasn’t some brazen harpy, but a cut sleeve princeling¹⁵…” Someone was coming up the stairs, and he shut his mouth.

Zhu Jing noted the strangeness of his description, and replied with some discomfort, “It looks like Shixiong will tease me for the rest of my life.” — A bang, a sauce dish landed before the two. Crisp green pickled vegetables piled high on the plate, looking quite like a main course.

Yang Yan saw him rising to make his courteous gratitude and took time to send the blushing girl back down. He signed. “Little Shidi, it is precisely your polite manner that made Prince Jin, Liang Xi want to chase you to no end. Hmm, hmm, if it were me. One slash to his thieving eyes, and another hook to his dogging legs. See if he dares to keep on the tangle!”

Zhu Jing considered his violent suggestion, and replied in sincerity, “Shixiong, purposeful harming of bodies is against the marital code of conduct. Moreover, this little princeling is only a little bold and persistent in his behavior, there isn’t any other wrongdoing. And he has always been civil and gracious, and says he just wants to be my friend, and not what … cut sleeve.”

“Be friends?” said Yang Yan, exasperated. “In Jiangzhou, you only mentioned that ‘tomorrow we can’t see this plum blossom anymore.’ And the very next day, he sent over ten thousand branches of white plum and built you a plum garden! A while back, on your birthday, this guy sent over ten white elephants, and roused the whole of Qingzhou City! Wherever you repose or rest, there would be ready booked. Ten officers and guards running around you all day, sending you maple leaves and duo square charms! Who makes friends this way?”

Zhu Jing finally nodded after some deliberation. “If Shixiong says it this way, it is a little embarrassing. Especially of these ten guards, all tall and skilled and with good eyesight, and often line in two ordered queues and salute me in bows and kneels on the street. I really don’t know what to do.”

Yang Yan patted him, and said seriously, “As long as you understand. These sorts of noble scions have no respect for propriety and integrity. They can do all sorts of obscene things. Keeping male favorites and actors aside, they even dare to plot men of proper houses and clans of the rivers and lakes! It doesn’t matter what kind of fancy tricks he throws, you ought to take no notice. All these games he’s playing, are trying to lure you into his clutch and trap you into a disreputable, ruined abyss.”

He said these words with so much solemnity, Zhu Jing sat up properly as well. “As Shixiong advises.” Since he grew up on Mount Jiuhua and had never made a step outside, he understood nothing of the romance of men and women, and less so about the path of dragon heat¹⁶. Supposedly, this matter of cut sleeve was of utmost danger, something as bad as the demonic paths, far from good, and should never be touched upon. Since Shixiong said he shouldn’t cut it, then he for sure mustn’t cut it.

Yang Yan continued again, “This despicable Liang, who knows we cannot touch people of court, hence pesters you relentlessly far and wide, making all under the sun know about it. So many people and mouths in the river lands, if this passes into Shifu’s ears, and her venerableness punishes you from her wrath. What are we to do?” He withdrew a long sign, full of apprehension.

“He makes his moves. I won’t bother him. I didn’t accept any of his gifts, nor did I ever speak to him. Why should Shifu punish me?” Zhu Jing asked.

Yang Yan felt terrible about his naivety, and thought, “Public opinion can melt gold. How would my little Shidi understand the ferocity of the human heart? This goddamn dog prince, why did he lay his eyes on him?” He only hated that the demonic paths had been so lacking in talent. Why didn’t they have a couple pretty boys, or else why would his Shidi receive such an unexpected calamity? He shook his head and said, “It’s not only that Shifu will be angry at you, it’s that… it’s that…”

But he could explain no more.

“Shixiong, don’t worry about me. Shifu is kind and understanding. She will distinguish between right and wrong,” Zhu Jing consoled him again.

“If Shifu charges blame, I am willing to let go of my own reputation to prove little Shidi’s innocence,” he thought. Presently, he made a deliberate jest, “I’m not worried. What is there to worry about? If Shifu really put you in binds, we can go to the Shibo on the eastern mount for pleads! He is Shifu’s Shixiong, he has also taken a liking to you. For sure he will not bear the thought of you holding up in the dingy dungeon.”

Zhu Jing ahhed. “You mean Liu Shibo? I haven’t seen him for a long time.”

Yang Yan smiled. “We haven’t heard his venerableness’s solo performance ever since we came down the mountain. You must miss it dearly.”

Zhu Jing immediately nodded. “I miss it dearly!” And he asked, “when are we going back?”

Yang Yan chuckled at his earnestness.

This Liu Shibo, Liu Yunge, was the Grandmaster of Jiuhua Sect’s eastern branch. Liu Shibo had started his own branch for over ten years, but he had not a single disciple, and only spent his days in solitude on the eastern mount. At night, they often heard a pure and echoing flute song flowing melodiously across the vale. It was elusive, ephemeral, ethereal, and without a trace of mortal smoke and air, relieving the audience of their secular troubles. The worshipping pilgrims took it to be the music of Buddha, and ignorant men and women even bowed and kowtowed towards the peak. When the western branch disciples talked about it in their idleness, they too suspected that it was the grace of an ascended. Cui Yumei only lifted her eyes in moderation from her mediation, and said mildly, “Liu Shixiong had long achieved fame on the rivers and lakes fourteen years ago, with his seven-hole jade flute. They called him the ‘Ascended of Celestial Call.’ His music is no mortal matter.” The disciples admired with greatness, all imagined Liu Shibo’s dress fluttering, jade flute striking, celestial figure, and longed in their dazed fantasy. Only Zhu Jing listened for a couple of nights, and told people, “This song sounds empty, as if it’s lacking the other half.”

A few days later, Liu Yunge sent an invitation for him to have a sit on the eastern mount. Including the Head Disciple Zhou Mo, all the sect siblings wept a cold sweat. At his departure, the family accompanied him all the way to the foot of the mountain, waving in tears. It was as solemn and stirring as the spirit of the hero left and returned not. Apparently, even the most cold and arrogant Second Shijie Yang Caihe dropped a couple of tears in secret on the night of. Yet, unexpectedly, he came back full and well and fresh and cool on the second day. And he was forthwith pressed on the gates and given a good spanking.

Yang Yan remembered his incident and asked with curiosity, “Little Shidi, what does Liu Shibo look like? Did he teach you some moves from his famous palm art Willow Breaking Green Waves¹⁷ in secret?”

Zhu Jing swiveled his head. “No. That night, Liu Shibo only played a song on the guqin¹⁸.”

“Qin? Not flute?” Yang Yan said in surprise.

Zhu Jing hummed, raised his head, and recalled the events of that night.

As soon as Liu Yunge saw him, he smiled. “You are the child that said my song was missing a half?”

“It’s this disciple,” Zhu Jing answered in a small voice. His heart was uneasy, he didn’t know whether his clumsy commentary had offended this high and otherworldly Shibo.

Liu Yunge patted his head with a smile. “You got a sharp ear,” he said.

His countenance and tone was casual and airy, even more approachable than Cui Yumei, and not at all like the cold and unapproachable personality that his sect siblings had imagined. Zhu Jing spoke a few words with him, and his fear completely dissipated.

Liu Yunge made him a cup of tea. From beneath a low stool, he took out a guqin in the shape of the waning moon. “I’ll play you a song,” he told him warmly.

He hastened to put down the teacup, and wanted to say, “Honored to hear Shibo’s elegant performance.” But Liu Yunge gestured him a shush, his fingers danced, and started the recital.

The black Guqin appeared heavy and unremarkable in body, yet the strings seemed extremely clustered, for there were no less than forty to fifty strings. “So many strings, how could you possibly play with only two hands?” he wondered.

Then his gaze shifted towards Liu Yunge’s crisp and profound face. “The brothers all guessed wrong. What silver haired, ascended ancient? This Shibo is no more than forty. He’s not as old as they said,” he thought.

The tea tasted bitter, and a little dry, and the colors appeared dim yellow. The leaves weren’t Sky Terrace Mist or East Cliff Finch Tongue; it was probably just some peasant’s home-grown coarse tea.

With only four walls and no significant objects, the surroundings were scant in furnishing. The bedding also looked long worn, for even the cotton was leaking out.

His heart ached and wanted to send over the new beddings that Shijie made for him.

Liu Yunge saw that his mind was preoccupied, his fingers swept, and the ensuing rapid lighting and dense rain pulled his gaze back. Thereafter he settled his spirits and listened with attention.

“Qin is the most graceful art. Liu Shibo is such a transcendent character. I imagine, this song must be very elegant and cultivated,” said Yang Yan.

Zhu Jing’s face showed a color of perplexity. “It wasn’t like that.”

The tune sounded zealously passionate. The dense sections thundered like iron hooves crossing a frozen river, the forte crescendo glided a view across legions of mountains, and the occasional pianissimos sailed like a dragon through the shallow waters, ready to soar to the heavens at any time. As Zhu Jing listened, he felt the ardent fervor. The black heaven and yellow earth, the ancient gods and celestial spirits, all must part the mountains and lend the path. The eight wilderness and six directions, ten thousand living beings, all must bow homage and subject themselves as vassals. His heart nearly combusted in flames, and he wanted to go at once and embark on a grand endeavor.

Liu Yunge read his excitement, the expression of itching to go for a leap, and let out an imperceptibly bitter laugh. With shifts in tone, the tune returned to his usual modes. Secluded and remote, like a chronicle of bone carving love and hatred that ended in desolate silence, or a breath of unutterable lament through the infinite night sky.

At the conclusion of the song, the sky weighed heavy, and the long night ended not. The ringing of empty accent, and the moon filled eastern mount.

“What about you?” asked Yang Yan.

Zhu Jing flushed red. “I… I fell asleep,” he muttered.

The qin whispered in indistinct murmurs. As he listened, he felt sleep all over his body, and could not resist falling in. He vaguely heard Liu Yunge speaking to himself, “The windy dew of Mount Jun had been the finale, never again witness the lengthy autumn moons of the mortal realm.” He covered him with bedding, and left with the Guqin.

“Liu Shibo really has been good to you. The recent improvements of your kungfu are all thanks to Shibo as well?” Yang Yan said.

Zhu Jing nodded vigorously. Ever since that night, he had noticed a lightness with his body, and his walks and runs also became faster. Afterwards, often as he prepared to strike, his sword would precede his intuition and land on the opponent before his realization. His dodges and lunges also became lighter. He sometimes suspected that his opponents were going easy on him, or else why would their strikes be so slow? Presumably, he shall accomplish a great breakthrough within a couple of years.

Yang Yan was very fond of this little Shidi. He felt no envy and all, but only happiness for him. “That’s amazing! It would be best if you can send out an unperceivable strike, and give a thrust to that Liang man!” He saw he had finished the porridge, and went downstairs for the bill.

Zhu Jing prepared his sword and bags. Before he went down, he took another look out the window. Although the morning market had dispersed, the bustles of voices still boiled, and people came and went as densely compacted as the fishes in the lake. The little apricot thief danced arm and leg. By now, he had stolen a bamboo hoop and tucked on the dark-dressed man’s clothes, wanting him to loop. The man didn’t heed him, but didn’t swing him away. The kid couldn’t move him anyway, and he just pretended he didn’t see him.

Zhu Jing was amused. “This man is so big, but he’s got a good temper,” he thought.

He came down but could not find Yang Yan Shixiong’s figure. He searched the surroundings, and there was no one resembling him. Inquiring the proprietor, but they only shook their head.

“It’s only been a turn. Where did Shixiong go?” He was perplexed.

But he didn’t know. Just as Yang Yan descended the stairs, the proprietor went forth for a notice, telling him that their meal had already been paid for. He assumed it was Prince Jin, Liang Xi seeking favor again. “That goddamn persistent dog!” he cursed, and insisted on paying the bill. However, the proprietor hmmed and hawed, and relayed that the patron was a monk who called himself a disciple of the Southern Seas Sect of Mount Putuo. The monk claimed they must be the patron of the day, as the compassion of the Southern Seas Sect binds them to send the disciples of Jiuhua Sect their last…meal. Yang Yan listened to his stuttered message. “What meal?” he demanded sharply. And the proprietor shivered, peeked his expression, and backed a good distance away before saying again, “Last meal.” Yang Yan bristled, went out the door, and glimpsed the figure of a monk flashing by the western alley. Before consideration, he started the Jiuhua Sect’s secret flight art, Three Layers of Snowy Waves, in rapid chase. The emergency eluded him from notifying Zhu Jing. And the proprietor was frightened by Yang Yan’s violent reaction, and dared not to mention it anymore to Zhu Jing.

Zhu Jing waited briefly with his sword, not seeing Shixiong come back, he strolled towards the green stone bridge in his leisure. Just as he got before the bridge, the dark dressed man grimaced. “This hoop of yours is unclean. It’s a spoil. How can I be complicit in the same soiled business with you?”

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