At the height of their guilt for committing evil, the Southern Seas disciples cowered and ducked in the face of this shock. In the misty gloominess, a yellow figure loomed before the temple gates and lunged before Yang Caihe, seeming in an attempt to support. Shi Chaoyin reacted most swiftly; disregarding his injuries, he plunged his sword towards the incomer. A flash of silver, the newcomer’s precise Crane Return to Empty Mount swung back his arm. “It’s Jiuhua Sect! Kill them! Don’t leave any alive!” he screamed.

Shi Jingguang led several disciples out of the broken-down temple. Clouds of earthy dust lingered, for a moment they could not see the fingers upon their hands. When the haze settled, a gigantic figure strutted forth, carrying someone on their shoulder and hoisting another on their left arm, and yet still stepping in flight. The Southern Seas disciples went up to obstruct from the sides, but the man’s long spear swept out, throwing off the throng. Shi Mianli, being the lightest, was tossed away multiple zhangs and landed in the muddy wreckage with a heavy pang. Her core and back went stiff and could not get up at length. Shi Jinggunag raised his sword without thought and sent forth a strike of the Light of Dawn. That was the most domineering move of Southern Seas Sect’s Sword of Willow’s Dew¹; it charged from the core and the subsequent forces would channel relentlessly. Yet just as this strike delivered and touched the spear, a tyrannical power came upon him. His wrist caught an instant numbness and had to swiftly recourse a deceptive Tea Mountain’s Early Mist². But this man humored him not, he only turned the spear and broke the manifold of trickery with a plain might, and slammed away his longsword with the least of manners. This time getting caught straight on, Shi Jingguang felt his innards bursting in his chest and inflaming massively. Startled, he thought, “Jiuhua’s mantras and sword moves all pursued lightness and agility. This man had a raw strength without bound, which master is this one?”

On the other side, Zhu Jing forced back Shi Chaoyin. “Shijie, can you stand?” he rushed. Surprised and overjoyed at suddenly seeing her little shidi, Yang Caihe waved at him. “Save Head Shixiong first!” Then an abrupt gust soughed behind Zhu Jing, and she cried, “Watch your back—” Before the words finished, Zhu Jin’s sword already moved; it flicked into a slant and blocked Shi Chaoyin’s sneak attack with the Cold of the Quiet Moon³. Though Yang Yan struggled to hold his form, he dived the hook towards his throat. Shi Chaoyin rolled back, screaming, “Wow, all grouping up on one?” Yet his left hand hurled a sweep, and a spread of yellow smog sprawled out from the cracks of his fingers.

Yang Caihe knew its powers. “Go!” she yelled. Searching the surroundings, Zhou Mo and Zong Yan were nowhere to be seen, and her anxiety flamed. Yet as she raised her eyes, she saw Yujien carrying the two and holding Shi Jingguang tightly on the ground with a spear. Seeing the incoming miasma, he side-stepped. But he didn’t bother watching where he went and strutted bluntly across Shi Jingguang, who upchucked out a mouthful of white foam.

“Who is this?” Yang Caihe asked in great amazement. Given this dire situation, she let go the etiquette of genders and allowed Zhu Jing to carry her on his back. “That’s my…friend,” Zhu Jing answered shyly. Seeing the Southern Seas disciples rising back to their stances, he rushed on Three Layers of Snowy Waves while supporting Yang Yan on his side, and dashed towards the foot of the mountain. Behind him, Yujien leaped in, with Zhou Mo and Zong Yan in tow. Soon, they came upon the rope bridge. Yujien saw the weakness of Yang Yan’s steps and Zhu Jing’s struggle in support, extended his right arm and hoisted Yang Yan over as well. Zhu Jing carried Shijie and carefully crossed the rope bridge. And Yujien only spread both arms like a spanning great eagle, and his feet skipping on thin air, crossed with a few surges, for even the ropes scarcely shook.

“This is no simple friend you have,” Yang Caihe lightly remarked from his back.

Zhu Jing’s ears warmed and answered with a dull Mn.

By now, the Southern Seas disciples had caught up to the opposite side. One of their disciples moved most swiftly and got on the rope bridge and shouted, “Halt!”

“Sure!” said Yujien. And he really stood still, flicked his foot, and kicked the sword sheaths into flight, like a beam of dark razor light, cutting the ropes with one slice. Its momentum receded not, for it bounded towards the foremost Southern Seas disciple’s face, who couldn’t dodge. The sword sheaths made impact on his chest and instantly broke his ribcage, and blood came gushing out of his mouth.

With this interlude, Jiuhua Sect’s group rushed back between the twin peaks. The pilgrims were as before. Before the dismounting stele, parked a horse-drawn carriage. Yujien leaped on, raised the whip in trigger, and drove the horses into a gallop, his movements as smooth as breath. As soon as Zhu Jing stood still in the coach, the carriage started a wild tumble along the mountain path. He settled in Zhou Mo and the group, and watched the whip moving like a spirited snake in Yujien’s hands. With every whip swing, the horses shuddered in tremors; they heaved hastier and hastier and they galloped faster and faster. And the carriage jolted violently, like a tiny leaf craft on the turbulent seas. Zhou Mo and the group held tight to the car rail and barely stabilized their bodies. The Southern Seas disciples had passed the plunging cliff and chased down the mount. Upon the sight they turned up their flight techniques. The Southern Seas secret, the Clouds of Mount Putuo was known in the south-east for its exceptional speed. However, compared to Yujien’s driving, it triumphed not. And after a brief race, the gap was pulled apart.

By then, Zhu Jing had come by the driver’s. The tumble gave blinding stars to his eyes; even sitting was difficult. He saw Yujien’s dignified figure and relaxed air as if sitting on a fishing dock, and became immensely impressed.

At last, the disciples supported Shi Jingguang forward. Seeing the coach running far and almost half a li away, he clenched his jaw and lifted his sleeves. Silver glittered, a whooshing sound boomed through the air, and exploded a few zhang before the carriage. A dense pall of yellow mist gushed out in a sprawl.

Everyone in the car saw clearly that it was the venomous Fragrant Sea Buddha. And as if in madness, the horses made a manic dash towards the yellow fog.

“Got a shield?” Yujien’s low voice suddenly rang up.

Zhu Jing, dizzy in his head, made a blind search behind his back. He normally used twin swords. Where would there be a shield? There was only the new red umbrella that he had just bought. At the present, he didn’t think much about it, and forthwith passed it to him.

Yujien frowned at the sight of an umbrella. “Umbrella skeletons are soft and loose; it probably can’t take it. But I’ll give it a try!” As he thought, he pulled up his body and swung the red umbrella against the wind, channeling his entire strength—and kaa—propelled it spinning towards the yellow mist.

How could a light and dainty Jiangnan paper umbrella take his brute might? Kaa, kaa—kaa, the umbrella skeleton snapped in rapid successions and the paper shreds scattered into flight. Yet the surface of the umbrella dished out a surge of scarlet whirlwind, sweeping clear the cloud of yellow gloom.

Without cease, the horse-drawn carriage crossed the pale mists of the mountain path, and off yonder they went. Shi Jingguang never expected his hidden trick of the sleeves would miss, shouted in curses, but how could he catch up now?

Zhou Mo’s quartet found themselves out of danger, and disregarding the weakness of their bodies, all kowtowed towards Yujien in unison. Zhu Jing also scrambled to bow down by the driver’s. Yujien motioned no need for the courtesies. Seeing Zhu Jing also bending by the side, he laughed. “Why are you aping too?”

“I am very thankful,” Zhu Jing said sincerely, and added another sentence, “more thankful than the time this morning.”

Yujien smiled at his genuine sincerity.

The quartet’s powers gradually recovered and started talking about the peril of escaping death, and saying how none of their lifelong ventures ever compare to this. And how Shi Jingguang, an exemplary master of a generation, was incited with the demon of the heart by a base scum. How pitiable and yet detestable. “Good or evil lies between the fold of a moment; a gentleman and a baseman is always hard to define,” said Zhou Mo. But Yang Yan was excited in a multitude of manners, wildly dancing the twin hooks, and vowing he would not rest until he butchered and flayed Shi Chaoyin into ten thousand pieces. Just as he proclaimed how he would pull out that vile tongue, an empty grumble growled from his stomach, and Zhu Jing hurried to offer the vegetarian pancakes. Zhou Mo and the others had been sedated and passed out for a day and a night. All were irrepressibly hungry, and each grabbed for sustenance.

Zhu Jing took one as well, but presented it before Yujien. “You eat it,” said Yujien. Yet upon Zhu Jing’s unrelenting resolve and the staunch delivery of his hands, he teared off half and ate.

Zhu Jing sat by him and started nibbling his other half. The public roads were broad and leveled, the winds clear and the moon white; and the latest life-threatening battle seemed like a dream. He was of the personality to say whatever came to his mind, and said, “Master Yu, your kungfu is so good. Are you really a merchant?”

The others in the car were amply more experienced than him. Hearing little shidi speaking without rail, their hearts rushed with anxiety. Yang Yan had just stuffed a mouthful of pancake into his lips, wanted to interject, but was hard on swallowing down.

And he only heard Yujien speak after a momentary pause, “To tell you the truth: this humble one came upon some hard times when the family went slump at youth. Driven by the circumstances, I fell to grass root banditry, and did a couple of years of unseemly business. Thanks to the attention of the brothers on the hills, I’ve been given the gracious style of ‘God Lancer Big Yu.’ My little brother wanders about with me everywhere, and splits the gold in equal scales. His fletchings fly like knives, and the rivers and lakes call him ‘the Little Flying Knight.’”

Zhu Jing found the tone of these sentences particularly strange, as if hard suppressing a laugh but also seeming in resignation. He didn’t know the causes behind it and ohhed. “He must be a godly archer who can pierce through a willow from a hundred steps,” he said.

“They are just babbling nonsense.” Yujien smiled. “You can’t take their word for it. Just passable, getting by!”

Zhu Jing was not unfamiliar with this tone; it was speaking in disappointment, but silent in deep adoration. Whenever Cui Yumei spoke about his siblings with grandmasters of other sects, this was the tone she used. Seeing Yujien’s eyes lighted bright, he thought, “He must like this little brother very much.” And he couldn’t help being curious. “I wonder what does Master Yu’s little brother look like?”

Yujien paused and pondered: “I’ve never thought about this. How do you describe ‘a princess is not my wish, I ask for the Damu’s weeping whip’?” He chuckled in his heart and said, “My little brother is about your age. Just how a kid should look!”

Yang Yan found Zhu Jing’s persistent inquires odd. “What’s up with little shidi today?” He wondered, and hurried to interject, “Master Yu is such a great hero; your little brother must also be a paragon among men.” He threw a look to Zhu Jing and made a gesture of chopping Zong Yan’s lips, signaling him not to mimic Eighth Shige’s thoughtless mouth of offending people and without awareness.

However, Zhu Jing was immersed in something else, and didn’t sense the least of his caring thoughts. Fortunately, he nodded and said no more; albeit on divergent paths, they arrived at the same destination.

Soon, the carriage entered the city. Yang Yan and Zhu Jing found an unassuming inn for lodgings. And they went to the apothecary for deer musk and borneol, in order to cook baths and extract the deep sedation of the other three. Once they recover their strengths, even if the Southern Seas Sect comes to scheme, they would not be afraid. Yujien saw them settled in and bid his farewells. Zhou Mo and the others kowtowed thrice. Yujien, troubled not with words, lifted his figure and went towards the long street.

Behind him, hurried steps followed. Zhu Jing rushed forth. “Master Yu,” he said, “let me walk with you,”

Yujien smiled with a frown. “Would I get lost on my own?” But seeing his eager gazes, he let him be. Hai Time⁴ had passed and little pedestrians lingered on the streets. The stores had put out their lights, and the street merchants and peddlers had fallen into their dreams. For the greenstone bridge that bustled and hustled during the day, only the slapping of lake water on the willow banks remained.

A moment after descending the bridge, the incense suffused Chonghua Temple came into view. “Zhu Shaoxia, you can let me go here,” said Yujien.

“Yes, Master Yu. Please rest early,” Zhu Jing said, but remained still.

His figure appeared singularly lonely under the night, and Yujien asked, “My little brother is arriving to Xuanzhou on the day after next. Do you want to meet him with me?”

“Yes, my great pleasure,” Zhu Jing replied instantly. Yet there was no joy in his eyes.

Yujien was oddly perplexed. Just as he went in the door, “Tomorrow morning,” he added, “go see the little dummy again?”

Zhu Jing lifted his head at once. “Okay!” he answered clearly.

Yujien laughed. “This expression of yours looks most like my little brother,” he said, stepping over the threshold, and the doorman immediately closed the great dark-wood doors in absolute respect.

Zhu Jing stayed a moment longer by the door before returning to the inn. Yang Caihe found his dazedness odd, consulted with Zhou Mo, and they concluded he must be upset over Shi Chaoyin’s words. The pair sympathized and called Yang Yan over for a harsh lecture at once, admonishing him for not blocking away those wild bees and racy flies out in the ninth sky. Yang Yan pleaded great injustice, crying, “What am I to do with that dogged prince coming to fuss! I can bar the heaven and the earth, but can I bar other’s admiration?”

This really is something you can’t bar or hide away from, the pair ruminated. And so, they only scolded him a bit more and let each other rest. But on the floor above, because of these words, Zhu Jing kept his eyes open and dreamed a sleepless dream.

~

On the third day, after the dispersal of the morning markets, Yujien and Zhu Jing descended the bridge and waited by a stone table under the willow trees at the banks. Zhu had fed the dull-witted child bits of pancakes, and his hand was smeared of saliva. He searched east and west, wanting to find a suitable item to wipe his hands. Yujien was looking towards the south-east every now and then, and didn’t touch the fresh cup of round tea on the table at all. He couldn’t help smiling, saying, “Master Yu, you and your little brother sure have a good relationship. Are you picking him up for breakfast?”

Yujien turned his head. “What’s good about it? It’s just his teeth and tongue are a tad sweeter and used to being pampered. Saves the trouble to pick him up now. When he throws a tantrum later, you’ll be annoyed to death.”

Zhu Jing observed clearly; the corners of the eyes and lips were full of smiles, and not a half bit of annoyance. Suddenly, he felt a gush of resistance and didn’t want to hear anymore. Just when he was about to change the topic, he heard him speak with a laugh, “He’s coming!”

Zhu Jing followed his gaze in watch and, only after a long time, saw two figures appearing by the street side. One, thin and small, was swiveling around, seeming to be searching for this Big Boss. The other wore a glistening yellow bamboo hat with various ribbons and stone beads draping by the sides. It completely masked away his appearance, yet it didn’t bother his walk, who came straight hither.

Coming up close, he found him wearing a short turquoise linen tunic with a large collarless neckline. The broad sleeves just past the elbows had two plum blossoms embroidered on the cuff. His feet wore a pair of bald-headed, hard-nosed black cloth shoes. He tied two stripes of verdant leg sashes around his calves, showing two naked knees. And the wrist was even more exotic, for he wrapped a vibrant five-colored coiled silk belt, apricot red and water green; needless to describe how splendid it looked. Walking for a while, he probably felt hot and pulled down the bamboo to fan air, revealing a head full of little braids, heavily strung full of colorful pepper beads. His hair coiled into a small conical braid on the top of his head, and was fixed together with a long bamboo pin. And the most spectacular sight was his face, with a flying serpent⁵ tattooed on left and a phoenix tattooed on the right; Inky green and indigo blue covered his head and facade, for even his shoulders and arms were tattooed full of illustrations. There had been various oddballs on the streets: Ginger-haired green-eyed Rakshasa merchants⁶, women with fresh plums in their hair attracting wild swarms of butterflies, and dwarfs with soles as thick as duck webbing, shaved clean to their scalps, and always bowing and saying “Hayee, hayee.”  But this outfit of his completely swept the competition, for there was no one more eccentric than him.

He didn’t seem to mind his own effect at all. He sprinted and bounced before Yujien, and called in a radiant voice, “Da-ge!”

Yujien almost spat out the tea. “Where did you get this from?” He pointed. Hard resisting his laugh, he held up his hand to examine the tattoos, and pinched his little braid.

“Auntie Lan fixed them for me!” Qu Fongning presented solicitously. Then he proudly patted his spotty-turtle-skin face and said, “I asked Uncle Lei to draw this! Looks good?”

Yujien laughed. “Looks great! How could you not look good? The prettiest boy under heaven!”

Qu Fongning knew he didn’t mean well, humphed, and straightened his little braids in his own appreciation.

By now, Cher Bien had arrived, who stood by the side and saluted Yujien. “He is a clerk of the shop,” Yujien told Zhu Jing. Then, pointing at Qu Fongning, he said, smiling, “this is that hopeless little brother of mine!”

Zhu Jing rushed to get up. “Boss Junior, how do you do?”

Qu Fongning immediately brought out the manner of a Boss Junior. He inclined his head in the assumed style and clasped Zhu Jing’s hand. “Hallo,” he said.

Zhu Jing remembered he had saliva on his hand, hastily wiped it on his body, and grabbed Qu Fongning’s hand.

Yujien chuckled from the side. “Young Mister Zhu is a well-known hero in the rivers and lakes. How can he conduct formalities as you do, little kiddo?”

Qu Fongning, surprised and envious. “Oh, it’s Zhu Shaoxia,” he said. “I’ve long heard of your name, that…umm…thunderously deafening. Our acquaintance today is, a fortune of … three lives.” He squeezed two intent looks towards Yujien, seemingly trying to confirm whether what he said was correct.

Zhu Jing scrambled out his politeness as well. “I’ve long heard Master Yu mention the heroic name of ‘the Little Flying Knight.’ Upon my witness today, you’re really a …. true man of the river and lakes—a heroic youth,” he said.

“Really? Actually, this title I’ve…” Qu Fongning said happily. Suddenly, remembering it wasn’t right, he immediately changed his tune, coughed, and said, “this humble individual’s meager name really does not garner…” Looking like he racked his brains but still couldn’t find the next sentence, he stared blankly at Yujien, hoping he would give a helping hand. Yujien held back his laugh and said, “the gentlemen’s reception?” Qu Fongning heard it, that was exactly the sentence, and bobbed his head like a chick picking on feed.

Zhu Jing couldn’t see his face clearly. But observing his two gently puffed-up cheeks and his childish demeanor, he felt friendly. And after a few polite words, each sat down. He studied Qu Fonging’s outfit and remarked out of curiosity, “The Boss Junior conducts the silk business, but clothes himself in roughspun.”

Yujien finally savored a good sip of round tea. “Hurry go change it!” He frowned, chuckling.

Qu Fongning flicked the little bead on his braid. “Zhu Shaoxia, you are not aware. This of mine is called… ‘the oil-seller wife washes her hair with water.⁷’ You must not be wasteful!”

Yujien erupted in laughter before he finished. Qu Fongning became nervous right away, and enquired with his eyes, “Did I not use it right?” And he laughed, unable to speak, almost choking on the tea.

Zhu Jing found his articulation soft and gooey and the tone particularly interesting. Only when he said idioms and proverbs would he clearly enunciate each character one by one. Observing Yujien’s hearty laugh, he couldn’t help thinking, “Master Yu’s brother is so young and adorable. No wonder he is so fond of him.” He himself is the youngest one in the sect; the siblings all coddled him dearly, and never gave him the opportunity to cherish someone else. He thought if he had a little shidi as smart as Qu Fongning, he would pamper him to no end as well, and would take on any storm or rain for him.

Qu Fongning had been traveling for a good half of the day. His throat dry and parched, he grabbed Yujien’s tea and drank. Cher Bien, peeking from the back, blanched. “Dear ancestor,” he thought, “that is General Yujien’s tea! Have you eaten a leopard gall? Dear mercy!”

Qu Fongning didn’t heed with his silent concerns, plopped down the empty teacup, wept his lips, and only said one word, “More.”

Cher Bien shut his eyes at once, no longer daring to look. Though Yujien showed a color of disgust, he nevertheless waved towards the man holding the teapot and told him to pour another cup.

The new tea was broiling hot. Puffs of white steam liquefied the patterns on his face, and with the drag of his finger, the ink dissolved like a landscape of mountains and waters.

“This face of yours would be complete with a couple of scripts! Sell for one whole coin a print!” said Yujien.

“If I’d known, I would’ve asked Uncle Lei to tattoo me a real one.” He liked these two legendary beasts very much, and his heart begrudged the thought of washing them away. But he knew it couldn’t be helped, so he had to suffer the heartbreak.

Yujien found great delight with his face full of woe. “Da-ge’ll write you a Wang⁸ here later.” He tapped his forehead.

Qu Fongning naturally wouldn’t like it. “I’m not a tiger!” He twisted his head away.

“Mn, you are an oil-seller wife.” Yujien laughed.

He caught his loose end. Having nowhere to rebuttal, Qu Fongning humphed fiercely, as to show even though he lost the soldier, he’s not losing formation.

Yujien had his amusement of poking fun at him, and bid farewell to Zhu Jing, saying he needs to go back to comb and brush this little monkey. Then he smiled towards Qu Fongning, saying. “Zhu Shaoxia had been waiting all this time for you. Aren’t you, Boss Junior, going to be a proper host?”

Qu Fongning immediately forgot the mocking humiliations and waved his hand with great gusto. “Zhu Shaoxia, come to lunch at our place. I’ll roast you some field mice jerkies!”

Zhu Jing had camped outside and ate pheasants and rabbits on occasions. But this field mouse he really couldn’t sink his teeth into. And his scalp prickled at the Boss Junior’s insistent offerings of such substance. But seeing Qu Fongning’s fervent eyes staring hopefully at him, he dared not to disoblige his kind hospitality. “Then I shall trouble the young master,” he replied.

“Hurry go change,” Yujien pressed. Then, turning to look at Zhu Jing, he said with a chuckle, “Don’t you aid his mischief!”

Zhu Jing lost his words with this look and dropped his head. Qu Fongning put on his giant bamboo hat and crossed the long street with Yujien, and entered that pink-walled tile-roofed estate. As soon as he entered the chambers and loosened half of his hair, and before he washed clean his face, he took his eyes sharply at Yujien and moved no longer.

Yujien just bid people to send over his newly made clothes, saw his vicious little eyes, and spurted a laugh. “Hmm?”

Qu Fongning glared at him. “I’m only a few days late and you’ve already made such a pretty friend!” He spoke in great displeasure.

Yujien tossed his clothes aside and leisurely sat down on the daybed. “What?”

“Not happy!” Qu Fongning turned to his back.

“And not happy!” Yujien laughed at his vexation. “Fine, would I cleave the mat to cut the connection and slice the robes to sever the acquaintance with him?”

“How good of friends need such special measures to break!” In his anger, Qu Fongning changed to the northern tongue.

The more Yujien looked, the more interesting it seemed, and the more he thought the happier he became. So he didn’t plan to console him at all. Qu Fongning brooded at length by himself and didn’t even want to undress. Yujien, inpatient at waiting, extended his hand to peel his coiled silk belt. The uncoiling came round and round, and accounted to more than a whole zhang in total. Yellow toothed cloud patterns, auspicious birds and flowers; it was embroidered as abundant as a bouquet. And thus, he teased him to open his lips, “Who gave you this? Aren’t you hot in this wrap!”

Qu Fongning still remembered his small grievance and didn’t want to talk to him. Then a thought turned around. “Auntie Pan made it for me! She said I can drink and I can hunt, so she likes me very much. Next year when spring breaks, she’ll marry her fourth daughter to me!” he said deliberately.

Yujien knew the little liar was bluffing again. How would he be duped? “Then you hurry marry her!”

Qu Fongning slightly panicked at the flop. “I’ll go marry her now!” He forced his calm.

Yujien retracted the belt from his hand altogether. “You go!”

Holding to the quarrel, Qu Fongning unplanted his legs. When he got to the door, he dawdled motionless again. “I’m really going!”

“Go!” Yuijien shooed.

Now Qu Fongning had nowhere to step down and had to pull open the door. Just as he touched the latch, he heard Yujien’s smiling voice: “You dare! I’ll snap your hands!”

Now he was finally satisfied, tuned a round hmph, and came back to resume his change.

Yujien watched him backhanding to unclasp the button on his back, and asked casually, “Had fun riding the ship?”

Qu Fongning had his back to him and twisted his face to stare at the button. Upon his words, he answered casually as well, “You weren’t there!”

Yujien’s heart moved inexplicably at the answer not to his question. And decided that he had been a little over on his recent bullying. Seeing him undress and preparing to fetch water to wipe the tattoos, he got up towards the door. “Come out and let me see it in a bit.” He nipped his face and said, “no more mischief. Only I have the say to who you marry!”

Qu Fongning crinkled his nose, let his face lean into his hand, and said an “Okay.”

~

Yujien came into the hall and found Zhu Jing waiting primly on a round armchair. “My little brother is unfledged. It must’ve been funny for Mister Zhu,” he said in apology.

Zhu Jing rose in haste. “Where did this come from? The Boss Junior is pure and adorable. I’ve just had the fortune to acquaint him, and my heart had already taken in. No wonder the Big Boss often thinks of him.”

“You must not say this in front of him later. He’ll be smug again.” Yujien chuckled, sat down in company, and ordered for tea.

Zhu Jing, a man of the martial path, knew little about tea leaves. Yet this tea was an old friend, for it was the famous imperial tribute tea of Mount Jiuhua—Sky Terrace Mist. Last year, when Cui Yumei received two liangs⁹ as a gift from an old monk, she especially called back his sect siblings for a small tea tasting. Seeing Yujien’s temporary residence stocked with such fine tea, he pondered, “Master Yu’s silk business must be very large. Yet he scarcely carries any mercantile air, and even less so for the Boss Junior! If he stood at the door to sell silk, he’d probably be instantly snatched away by miscreants.”

Yujien heard him voicing his thoughts and waved his hands. “He’s just not good with the common tongue. That’s why he is so quiet. If he changes to our local dialect, he’s fiercer than a leopard. Who would dare to provoke him!” And he asked, “What’s the mercantile air like?”

Zhu Jing couldn’t describe it accurately. It was probably gripping a snuff bottle, wearing a jadeite thumb ring, pale face and short beard, with one hand holding the account books and the other pitter-pattering the abacus beads, calculating his properties and rent. Yujien chuckled as he listened. “How do you know I’m not like that when I’m in the shop? You never know,” he said.

Zhu Jing recalled his valiant figure with the sweeping spear. He shook his head. “No,” he said quietly, “even when you are in the shop, you must be riding amongst an army of thousands with a valor unmatched by ten thousand men.”

“This Southern young man has some keen perception,” thought Yujien. Remembering the events of that day, he inquired, “Have your scabbards been made yet?”

The sides of Zhu Jing’s ears flushed red. Just as he was about to speak, the door moved and Qu Fongning walked in, lifting the side of his gown.

His current outfit differed from the previous. The little braids completely loosened. For they should have bristled into curly puffs. Luckily, there had been warm water, so he outright washed it all through. And now he had to hold the lump of damp shoulder-length raven hair in his hand. He wore a snow-white spring gown, silk weave trailing tail, fluttering like pure snow. The inky tattoos were wiped clean and revealed the face of a youth. This Jiangnan weave complimented his gallant countenance; illustrious and graceful, pure and bright, faintly like the post-rain river and sky, with a sense of clear waves and pink snow. Between now and then, Zhu Jing almost didn’t recognize him.

“Little monkey wearing new clothes,” Yujien teased from the side. Seeing his gown sprawled open and the crepe ribbon loosely dripping on the side, he called him over and tightened it up. Though Qu Fongning wore the southern clothes, his behavior still didn’t have a half sense of decorum. He only stayed still for a moment before bumping his knees against Yujien’s kneecaps. Yujien, presently annoyed, slapped him and chided, “Stand properly!” Qu Fongning giggled. “I’m very proper!” Yujien grimaced and pulled him in closer.

Ever since Qu Fongning appeared by the door, Zhu Jing felt a faint inquietude in his heart. Witnessing the pair’s intimate interactions, oblivious of others, further intensified the disquiet, albeit he did not know why.

~

Yujien had been practicing the technique to suppress presence for a couple of days, and achieved considerable success. On the two days as he walked the streets and alleys with Zhu Jing, no one paid attention. Yet today, ever since Qu Fongning came out, he had stirred up a great fuss and beckoned a caucus of eyes. He outfitted as a wealthy young master, but walked hippity-hop; he found the gown too troublesome and lifted it high on the side, even revealing the white silken trousers beneath. In the interim of walking across the greenstone bridge, he took away the attention of the entire street. Even the boats on the lake refused to move ahead, all pulled in to look, with their bows standing full of people.

Zhu Jing followed behind. Upon this legs-bumping-shoulders grand festivity, he spoke sincerely, “The young master truly has a handsome look. I’m afraid the entire Xuanzhou City has come to look at him.”

“Hmm, thus people at the time said, the looks murdered the pretty Wei¹⁰!” Yujien laughed.

Cher Bien also changed into a casual garb. He tagged far behind and mulled over Qu Fongning’s conspicuous figure, feeling extremely perplexed. Qu Fonging is handsome; he knew the power of looking handsome and often relied on this face to domineering advantage. Gerrgu was the prime example of a deep-seated but happily willing victim. Though good looks as looking good was one thing; radiating brilliance, and reeling the congestions of onlookers to broil in waves today was something that never happened. Even when he won the championship during the Autumn Festivals with the frosty bow and light steed, it was only a pale sketch; even when he casually tossed away Princess Ulaador’s gift, he was not this dazzling in sight. He couldn’t understand why, but this seemed a little familiar, as if he had witnessed this sort of marvelous scene somewhere before.

He skewed his rodent-like head, ruminated with an intent effort for some time, and finally remembered. He had a little cousin, a squat and plump girl who didn’t have much in appearance, whom when the boys walked past, they wouldn’t even stop so much to spare a look.

But there was a period in her life when she was utterly beautiful! For when she spoke, she flew like a little bird. When she walked, she was just like a princess. And when she went out to herd the lambs, her entire body emitted a songlike lightness. No onlooker would not stay to watch, and all were amazed that this beautiful girl was family Cher’s daughter, who had lived next to them for over a decade.

However, these two scenarios could have nothing in common. Because after a few days, she got up a buggy and went off to get married. Could it be that his little brother Fongning is also going to get married off? But that is impossible.

Qu Fongning had no idea about his whimsy wonderings, and before his eyes, off he went under the embankment.

“Where are you going?” asked Yujien. And the answer was, “Catching field mice! Catch and roast!” As he spoke, he jumped off the stone berm and started looking for rodent holes.

Yujien pulled him up with a laugh. “Have you no manners? This is what you are going to treat people? At least go book a seat at a restaurant!” he said.

Qu Fongning rubbed the mud into his hands. Upon these words, he answered in blunt justness, “I’ve got no money!”

Yujien chuckled. “And you are a Boss Junior! Such shabby words you pick!” And so, he guided the two northwards, to the Unending Tower on Champion Scholar Street.

~

This Unending Tower was unrivaled in Xuanzhou. Vibrant scaffolds raised high, and luxuriant fabrics covered the sky, scarlet sleeves waving by, and guests crowding like clouds ply. And more, there was an auspicious tale: which speaks of an heirloom once owned by an antique merchant of Nanyang; of an ancient bronze mirror that could see the heavens and the earth, beyond the three realms and five elements. As the man came to middle life, his marine expeditions sank several times. And since he saw through the vicissitudes of life, his heart cooled, and he set east towards the fabled Isles of Penglai to seek the divinities. When he passed this place for a short repose, he chanced upon the Marquis of Idyll, Shen Qi. The two struck an instant rapport, and to him he gifted this ancient mirror. The title of Unending, was then bestowed by the Marquis of Idyll’s own hand. This street wasn’t originally called the Champion Scholar Street either; it was also because of Shen Qi, the primer prodigy of the current world, and rumored to be the god of literature descended upon the mortal realm. This street had his ink work sitting in seal, from which they rubbed no small aura of enlightenment. Thereafter, before the imperial examinations, all the examinees and pupils of the adjacent provinces would come to pay their respects. Naturally, the merchants would not let go of this excellent opportunity. They rolled out great lengths of xuan paper¹¹, hui ink¹², and Zhuge brushes¹³ with inflated prices, waiting to net the profits. And then, there really produced a champion scholar. Thus, it became even more renowned, and the name of Champion Scholar Street came to wide dissemination.

Qu Fongning stepped on this street and only saw layers upon layers of xuan paper, like snowy waves; faint currents of scent assaulted his senses, all the fragrances of ink. He had never seen such cultured streets, and looked on with great novelty. Before the joyous gates of the vibrant tower, stood a man-height ancient bronze mirror. As clear as water and translucent in luminance, although only a copy, it was made exquisite. Quaint patterns marked the back, swirling waves and human faces were carved in simplicity. In between the patterns, welded a few lines of curvy inscriptions, of which he naturally understood none. Luckily, there had Shen Qi’s true scripts as reference, who wrote:

See the light of the sun, be always unforgotten.¹⁴

Solar wings of a thousand years, green room remains brighten.

And the ledge interior was engraved with tiny characters, which were:

Long prosperity, joy unending.

So, the name of Unending Tower came from these words. And beside all such, printed a turtleback-shaped seal. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t recall what it was at the moment. Yujien saw him silently gnawing his fingers, flicked his forehead, and said, “This is that Marquis of Idyll, Shen Qi.”

It finally dawned on Qu Fongning, who turned back his head to study the words. The more he looked, the odder it seemed. “How come these writings appear as though from a different person than ‘Long rain at budding time’? He must’ve been unwilling, and someone forced his hand to write it,” he pondered.

They went to the private room on the third floor. Servers brought up the look boards. “What dishes does Zhu Shaoxia like?” inquired Yujien. Zhu Jing was staring absent-mindedly at the luminous windows, as he heard he only said, “As per Master Yu’s preferences.” Yujien observed his cool tone, perplexed, and turned to Qu Fongning. “Little monkey, what do you eat?” Qu Fongning held his cheeks in his own hands, upon his words, he yelled “Meat!” And Yujien tsked. “Such tiny prospects of yours!” Thus, he called for wine, fruits, and warm dishes, then ordered a good many meats. A moment later, the wine and courses arrived, permeating with ambrosia. Qu Fongning particularly fancied a course of brasenia bass stew¹⁵, yet the chopsticks in his hand refused his wishes; it split apart the perfectly good bass flesh into four, five pieces. He couldn’t send it into his mouth, became inpatient, and almost used his own hands to grab. Yujien was laughing beside himself. In the end, he overcame with kindness and helped some into his bowl.

Zhu Jing had been silently eating with his head down, became taken back at the sight. “The young master is not accustomed to chopsticks?”

“Hmm, used to being wild,” said Yujien, clipping two more stir-fried clams for him, and scoffed at him, “Can’t even pick up food! What good are your hands for?”

Zhu Jing’s folded hand tightened slightly and said nothing.

At this moment, soft steps rang up the stairs, in came two artisans cradling pipa and clappers, both with considerable looks. The table at the head of the tower had gone through three rounds of drinks, their faces and ears warm and red, and asked the two to liven things up. The elder singer, gowned in cloth, had a shroud of distress over her brows. She clapped the clappers and opened her lips:

“Long absence of the Southern forces, rumors say the North had them with ease.

This business signed with one hand, return us the champion of ten thousand men.

Han emissaries of simpering faces, why send the river waters into the eastern seas?

Make the servile respects to their land, sweep the streets with their heads then.

Xiao’s capital, Shun’s soils, Yu’s fiefs. Between who, any would shame to bend.

Ten thousand li of Concord reeking of sheep,

A thousand generations of heroes cannot sleep,

Their grand endeavors, when can we prehend?

Ask not the fortune of the Huns,

The scarlet sun is with the Hans.”¹⁶

The crowd listened with dismay. “Another! Another!” they hooted in echo.

The other singer, much younger, wore a peachy bandeau dress, had a delicate, supple face and clever mouth, hurried a courtesy. “Honored gentlemen, please do not be ireful. Pray hear this humble maid’s Liu verses.” She lightly plucked the pipa, started her cherry lips and milky teeth, and sang in a sugary tongue:

“Just reach the age, first tying the artisan hair, and already learning songs and dances.

Amongst the seats, the princes and lords I must delight.

Account the chats, charge the smiles, yet a thousand gold garners no sincere glances.

Often I fear the steal of my ephemeral bloom, and squandering the fleeting light.

I’ve received thy gracious patron, now I shall blossom only for thee.

Ten thousand li of crimson clouds, why don’t we join hands to leave?

Abandon forever this fireworks company.

Else they’ll seek me, for misty morning and stormy eve.”¹⁷

The crowd listened, their fury turned merry, and applauded. “This one’s good! This one’s good!”

Zhu Jing listened to her entangling emotions, every word piercing to the heart, to the bone. “‘Ten thousand li of crimson clouds, why don’t we join hands to leave?’ Such beautiful verses! He… Those two, are bound to join hands to leave,” he couldn’t help thinking.

And he observed Qu Fongning also densely absorbed, his thoughts unknown. But his hand by the table was lightly tapping the rhythm of the clappers.

~

He made through the thousand pains and agony of the luncheon. Between Qu Fongning’s “Give me a sip, give me a sip!” whines for wine, and Yujien’s chuckling threats, “We’ll pay the bill with you later.” All of which he pretended not to hear. As he descended the tower, he considered parting their ways, yet when Yujien mentioned, “I’ll be taking him for a stroll, would Zhu Shaoxia like to join?” And he went as if lured by a ghost, with his heart in deep remorse, for Why am I tagging along?

Since Qu Fonging filled his stomach with rice, even his walks became more proper. As he swiveled his eyes around, he said, “Da-ge, when I was in Khilan, I went to a market called Oghuz, and thought that was already very prosperous. This place is ten thousand times more prosperous than Oghuz. My eyes are not enough to look!”

Yujien was finding amusement as he inaccurately bit the word prosperous. “Mn. Da-ge will take you to even more prosperous places,” he said upon his words.

Zhu Jing heard it in the back, and his footsteps trudged further.

On the way, they occasioned upon Persian women passing on barefoot, with golden bracelets on their arm, and face veils touching the ground. Qu Fongning’s curiosity turned up and chased to peel their veils. “Hand’s too long! If you see her face, you’ll have to marry her!” Yujien huffed from behind.

Qu Fongning jumped, retracted his hand in a hurry, and came bouncing back. Yet he looked into Yujien’s eyes and made a hand gesture. “I’ve seen your face too!” he whispered in the Northern tongue.

Zhu Jing obviously understood none of it. He felt a sense of remoteness of being separated by a thousand cloudy peaks and wanted to follow even less.

Qu Fongning circled around for a while, saw a street-side stall selling hand-drawn candy figures, and dashed over in an instant. “Grampa, draw me a bow,” he said in a squat.

The candyman gaffer was as gaunt as a stick. He put up a nonchalant attitude and gave little passion for greeting customers, but his work was deft. He ladled a scoop of honey colored syrup, cooked it to a boil, poured into a string, and drew him a candy bow.

Qu Fongning watched with sparkles in his eyes. “Grampa, you didn’t draw this bow right. The bow arm has got no arch! How are you supposed to pull it open?” he said.

The gaffer took no notice of the customer’s feedback and self-absorbedly drew a full-moon-shaped bow, and plucked it on the straw bundle to pass to him. “Draw the eagle bow to full moon, aim northwest, kill skywolf,¹⁸” he recited to himself, waved to shoo, and didn’t even bother for the fee.

Qu Fongning never learned this verse and didn’t quite understand it. Yujien heard it in front and frowned. “It’s not a good meaning. We’re not learning this one!” he said, and his head turned for a cold sweep, a killing intent looming in his eyes.

Qu Fongning hurriedly raised up his little candy bow and struck an aim towards Yujien. “Let me draw a couple of arrows!” he said.

Yujien’s face softened and gave him a pat. “You dare to aim at your master? How mutinous! I’ll snap your hands!” he scowled.

Zhu Jing, lost and disturbed, also squatted down before the candyman stall. He honestly had nothing he wanted to draw, but wanted less to move forward.

Suddenly, he heard, next to him, Qu Fongning inquiring with a chuckle, “Zhu Shaoxia, what do you want to draw?”

Zhu Jing, absent-minded and nonplussed, his eyes lost at where to go, looked towards a large drawn candy figure.

It was the Legend of the White Snake¹⁹. The White Snake had transformed into a human. She was leaning against the umbrella of the bamboo craft and casting her magic to call for a rain, to complete her thousand-year wish.

Qu Fongning was waiting for his candy arrows, looked towards his gaze, and smiled faintly. “Zhu Shaoxia, do you think, if Xu Xian knew the White lady isn’t his kind, he would still love her?”

This sentence was in perfect Southern tongue; the pronunciation and accent differed completely from his previous speech, and without a slight of coquetry or suppleness.

Zhu Jing did not notice at all. He gave him a blank look. “But wasn’t Xu Xian unaware?” he said hesitantly.

Qu Fongning seemed to have let out a sigh, peered yonder towards Yujien, and left with his candy arrows.

This time he didn’t commit any heinous acts of fratricide, and only held the candy with one hand and put the other in Yujien’s palm.

Yujien thought he was wiping candy on him again, and was about to shake away, until he opened his lips, “I’m gonna get lost later.”

Now his mood was thoroughly refreshed. “The oil-seller wife is scared of getting lost?” he teased, held his hand tight, and ascended up the bridge.

“Oil-seller wife, oil-seller wife, laugh at me for my whole life!” Qu Fongning groaned.

He turned for a glance and saw Zhu Jing’s overt stiffness. And so, he no longer cared, and let him trail behind in solitary silence.

On the bridge, a familiar face was busy distributing little chicken-feather arrows, and cheerily selling his peaches and apricots. This time, his banner was changed anew into a black-and-white, octagonal ying-yang diagram. He hoisted a rusty iron bow, which he magnanimously invited people to draw. If anyone could shoot one of the trigram symbols, they could take away his peaches and apricots for free. But his bow of his brought no small consternation, for there was no sight guide nor arrow slot. The arrows were also as airy as a catkin or a duckweed. When people took it, not only hitting a target, for even sending off a shot was very difficult. His arrows weren’t cheap either, each cost a whole coin. Yet in this Xuanzhou City, wouldn’t there always be a number who didn’t like to admit defeat? Hence, even before the night market opened, he had already earned a full bowl, and was at the height of his springy spirit. At the present, he extended his large hand and shooed the finger-sucking dull-witted child far away.

And was wholly unguarded when a voice sounded from behind, “Old Song Si, give me a couple of arrows.”

As soon as Old Song Si heard this voice, he felt as if his heart was drenched in snowy water, cold and icy. He turned to look, of course it would be the evil star from last time! Yet, he forced a smiling face, saluted and bowed, and took his sleeve to sweep the dust off his clothes. “Small business, really having a hard time filling bowls at home. Dear master, you are a ‘might hero. Please let this humble one have a way of living!” he begged in repeats.

His solemnity amused Yujien. “How is this having your living?” he said, and turned his head to look. Qu Fongning was squatting in front of someone’s giant basket, playing and pulling qin fish²⁰ whiskers. “Ningning, come here!” he called.

Qu Fongning huddled in with two wet hands. Upon seeing the bow, his eyes glittered. “This for me to play?” he said.

“Mn, for you to play,” said Yujien, and patted Old Song Si for him to offer up the arrows.

Qu Fongning had been sitting on a stifling boat and hadn’t touched the bowstring for several days, and was itching for his practices. But his hands weren’t quite clean. Swiveling to look, he found the dull-witted child gawking straight at him. And thus, he went ahead dumping all the perilla plum gingers, rose pastries, and candy bow and arrows towards the kid. Taking over the little arrow, he made an ehh. “So light!” he exclaimed, and extended his hand to Old Song Si. “Give me a couple more!”

Old Song Si thought he was afraid of missing and wanted a couple more for reassurance. “Alright! Little master, please take your time!” he offered cheerfully.

Yet the little master didn’t heed to his golden entreaties at all. He notched one, then another, and in a moment, notched all eight arrows on the bowstring, looking like a paperless fan skeleton.

Zhu Jing came just in time. His heart also started upon the sight. What is he doing?

And truly, Qu Fongning lifted his arms a touch and aimed towards the eight symbols at three zhangs away. He drew the bow, opened the string, and lightly flicked the arrow tails. With a hew, the eight tiny arrows sped like streaming light and nailed perfectly onto the eight directional trigrams.

Yujien applauded in twos from the side. “Truly a Little Flying Knight. These falling feathers shooting stars are saving us a fortune of fruit money!”

Qu Fongning proudly raised his head, almost lifting a tail if he had one. “Of course! Only the best master produces the top student!”

Old Song Si looked at the eight arrows digging into the feathered tails, sucked his nose hard, and almost cried out loud. Qu Fongning kindly consoled him a few words, took some red ginger plum to his lips, and coaxed, “Uncle! Eat some! Don’t cry!”

Old Song Si chewed the plums, and peered at the dull-witted child, who was already well on his familiar way at touching his peaches. But he had many encumbrances in his arms and this lowering of his back immediately dropped him a pastry, and candy arrows also followed in tumbling down. He was dying with anxiety, on one side picking furiously on the ground, and the other still deliberating on touching those big peaches!

Qu Fongning watched with amusement. “Off you pick! Let me see how much you can eat!”

It took no small effort for the dull-witted child to gather his spoils. As he cradled his armload of bits and bubs away by a few steps, his dull eyes gawked unblinkingly at Qu Fongning. And after standing for some consideration, he selected a small peach and extended his hand towards him.

This was no small honor. Yujien and Zhu Jing had been feeding him for many days and never received such treatment. But Qu Fongning recognized not the favor. He grimaced and dismissed, “Who wants that! You hands are so dirty!” Yet the more he dismissed, the more the child wanted to give to him, almost chasing in the delivery. Qu Fongning couldn’t win his nag, and grudgingly extended two fingers, lightly picking up the peach as if nipping snot. The dull-witted child gleed at his scowl, screamed restlessly, and went forward to molest him a number more.

Yujien watched on with great interest. “This child has a good bond with you! Why don’t you take him back and raise him!” he said.

Qu Fongning was on one side pushing away the child’s forehead, preventing him from touching himself, and on the other talking back in rapid capacity, “How can I have this? Why don’t you take him!”

Yujien was leaning against the balustrades and taking in the gentle spring breeze to his face, perfectly relaxed. He said, “I picked up one of you, and am already annoyed enough! How dare I take another one!”

Now Qu Fongning agreed not; the hand gestures and words all went up at once. “How am I picked up!”

“I didn’t really pick you personally,” he thought, “Mn, Qu Sharraugh gave you to me.” But these words could not be said out loud. So he pinched his cheeks, and chuckled. “Fine, not picked up! You jumped out of a rock²¹.”

Qu Fongning heard, thought this wasn’t much better, and sulked. Then with the turn of the eye, he glimpsed an umbrella booth, and went to look.

Zhu Jing had picked up a juicy ripened peach, peeled the skin, and wanted to give it to the dull-witted child. Yet by this time, he couldn’t pass it over at all. He heard their conversation mentioning something of “picked up one of you,” and he thought in astonishment, “Master Yu and him are not blood brothers?” The disquiet was almost bursting out of his chest, unutterably unsettling, but he didn’t understand why.

Qu Fongning picked and chose, nothing really suited his liking, and casually pulled out a white grease-paper umbrella and opened it. The surface of this umbrella was even more sloppy; on it drew a few sparse strokes of flower petals, could be said to be roses, or could be said to be camellias. Yujien darted a look and read the two lines of poetry on the umbrella:

“If the knowing beauty can ruin nations, even heartless it flowers the sensations.²²”

His heart smiled. He took the umbrella to compare with Qu Fongning’s face, and said, “Looks like you. Buy it!”

Watching him dumbly cradling the umbrella shaft with two arms, he pointed to the umbrella spread. “Look, a little monkey hiding in a peony blossom,” he said.

Qu Fongning was forced to accept this gift, sulked even more, and decided to flop on the balustrade as well. He sent his eyes away, the pale spring sun, the soft shadow of clouds, the gentle waves of Danyang Lake, as calm as a jade mirror, and ineffably green. The weeping willows drooped demurely by the two banks, and a pair of butterflies was swirling gracefully in the light breeze.

He looked in fascination for some time. “Da-ge, is this ‘spring comes river waters as blue as azure’?” he asked.

Yujien watched his raven-black eyes, rippling with light and almost being blown into folds by the spring wind. “Yes. Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you to see the river blossom,” he said, protended his hand, and wrapped him into his arms.

Zhu Jing had already walked far, but it was as if the pair’s words had grown legs and walked into his ears by themselves. When he heard this line, he was suddenly reminded of that morning, amidst the chaos of the troops, the words Yujien said by his ear:

“Look, river blossom!”

He didn’t understand at the time, what is so special about river blossoms? What is there to see? But now, he understood too much.

Between now and then, he felt he was absurd to the extreme. In his reverie, he took his legs in leave, just wanted to go into the lonely peaks and dreary mountains, beyond the clouds of the ninth sky, and never come back to this Xuanzhou City.

But before he walked past the greenstone bridge, a commotion erupted in the crowd. They were pointing to the west side of the bridge, and the children were dashing and calling their friends over to look.

He lifted his head and felt a pall of blackness in front of his eyes.

At the far end of the city limits, footsteps stomped like the drums of the earth. They were enormous moving objects; four fat-headed and chubby-faced and adorable-looking… white elephants.

A conspicuously extravagant young man, topping a bright jewel crown, a jade belt around the waist and a yingluo²³ jade locket around the neck, and gowning a snow-crane feather cape, was flanked between the grandiose protection of a column of armed guards, and was rushing towards him in a great hurry.

Although they have never met in person, Zhu Jing almost instantly knew who this was. If Yang Yan was here, he would’ve already taken cover for him to escape. Yet now he was alone, with no protection, and standing in an obvious spot on the street. Any who had an eye could see that this man was coming for him, and he would be ashamed to run away. But he was terribly embarrassed. Before they could come near, his face had already reddened to a great blotch.

As he came before him, he even saw, beneath the feathered cape, the embroidered rose branch on the yellow silk rope. Though even more awkward, he forced an air of normality. “You… Your Highness Prince Jin, nice to meet you,” he said, but his voice was inevitably a little unnatural, and coughed.

Prince Jin, Liang Xi never expected him to speak to him out of his own account, and forthwith halted his step. And with an expression more timid, a face more red, and a voice even more unnatural, he spoke quaveringly, “Mister… Zhu, how do you do?”

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