Yujien strolled out in the night air. The greenstone bridge was quiet of voices, for only a few sparse stalls remained. From afar, he saw a figure in pale-yellow studiously selecting something by the umbrella stand. When the vendor opened one, he politely apologized with a stir of his head. That cautious attitude really didn’t look at all like picking an umbrella, but a wife. He henceforth raised a call from the foot of the bridge, “Zhu Shaoxia.”

Zhu Jing immediately covered up the umbrella stand in a frantic rush. “Yu… Master Yu, Hello.”

Yujien silently chuckled at his odd behavior. “Kids this age are all a little strange,” he thought. He ascended the bridge just as the vendor held up an umbrella, stating indignantly. “This is the only red one. You can see whether there’s those two lines you want!”

Zhu Jing appeared exceedingly flustered. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, rushing out his purse to pay. Yujien’s exceptional vision glimpsed the illustration of a small craft on the misty waves, with the words: “Grief in no reason to see Fan Li’s, let my gaze through eastern lakes’ smoketrees.¹”

“Is this umbrella a gift?” he inquired.

Zhu Jing stopped, nonplussed. “No… it isn’t,” he said, and regarded the umbrella spread with a sullen expression, seeming somewhat dissatisfied.

Yujien supposed he was dreading over walking this path of no return, and didn’t mind much about it. “Master Yu,” he said with his head down, “my shifu will arrive tonight. Shifu already heard about the rescue the other day, and said she must call to send her gratitude, hoping to invite the honor of you two’s presence to a meal. However, … we don’t have much money. If the place is a little shabby, I hope you won’t hold it against us.”

This sort of plain dialogue was Yujien’s favorite. He patted his head and smiled. “No worries. In the earlier years, we ate and drank plenty of raw flesh and blood on the hills. Anything is editable.”

Zhu Jing shifted beneath his palm and raised his eyes. Yujien regarded this look of his, obviously swallowing down the words that already came to the lips. “What do you want to say?” he asked.

Zhu Jing deliberated a moment longer and finally started, “You and the Boss Junior…” And he stuck on his part.

For this Yujien could not guess, and gestured: “Mn?”

Zhu Jing clasped his sword hilt, his fingers loosening and tightening. “Are you… relate…” he spoke in a small voice.

His face had squeezed completely red, and Yujien couldn’t imagine what words could possibly be so unspeakable. “Zhu…Mister Zhu!” An even more meek and timid voice sprang from the foot of the bridge; Prince Jin Liang Xi had arrived.

Zhu Jing raised his eyes and found Liang Xi coming to the banks all by himself, without a single guard in tow. “Your Highness, Prince Jin,” he said, startled, “you… coming out alone at night, isn’t… this not very proper?”

Liang Xi ceased his steps a whole zhang away from him. “I thought you didn’t like… all the fuss and fanfare, and so I told them all…to go back,” he said, looking straight at him.

Zhu Jing noted Yujien was still standing behind him with a smile in his eyes, and his awkwardness was indescribable. “Then Your Highness should go back as well. I am also leaving.” He turned to leave; for he was really running away.

“I… let me walk with you.” Liang Xi sped forth two steps, but still keeping a fair distance and not daring to come close.

Zhu Jing’s scarlet face almost came aflame, and he wouldn’t hate to jump into Lake Danyang and anchor away. How would he dare to allow him to escort, and hence abruptly stopped. “Your Highness, Prince Jin… we are different in status; it’s best… if we don’t.” As soon as these words left his lips, he realized their unspeakable insinuation and became even more flustered.

Liang Xi’s face showed a color of disappointment. He didn’t dare to defy, voiced an “Oh,” and really stayed motionless. But watching his retreating figure, he hurried to start again, “Mister Zhu, tomorrow…will you be here? I have some small trinkets…”

Zhu Jing halted his feet and said, “Your Highness, Prince Jin, I would never dare to accept your gifts. It was already…no right for us to exchange these words.”

“Yes, yes. I… I know,” Liang Xi trailed along, “I don’t dare to hope for anything. But to see you every day, and speak to you is already… already my greatest joy.”

As these words came out of his mouth, even Zhu Jing knew they were going in the wrong direction. “Your Highness, Prince Jin, this.. is not something friends should say,” he had to respond.

Liang Xi hesitated briefly and decided to speak outright, “Mister Zhu, I’ve been spirited away mind and soul for you ever since I first saw you at the Plum Garden in Jiangzhou last month. I’ve said I just want to be your friend, that’s a lie. But if you are unwilling… It’s fine if we just be friends.”

Zhu Jing listened to this plain confession with something else in his mind. Though this Prince Jin, all smitten with him, was pitiful and ridiculous, how was he himself any different? “That cannot happen. Please don’t speak this way anymore,” he said in a low tone. Finding the newly purchased umbrella still in his hand, he hence handed it over. “You can have this!”

Liang Xi was delighted beyond bounds. He snatched out a silk cloth to wipe his hands and took it over with immense care. “Thank… Thank you! This is the most precious treasure of my life.”

Yujien listened to this pair of young lovers, one obsessed and one oblivious, with much amusement. Just as he turned towards the residence, a shifting green figure drew upon his eyes. A young Taoist came in across the waves and bowed a salute towards Liang Xi. “Your Highness, Prince Jin, I’ve finally found you. His Highness, Prince Qi, has been waiting long on the Eight Treasures Lovebirds Tower. Please make your way back.”

Liang Xi had only just received a gift from his beloved; how would he be willing to go? “Brother Siqiao is waiting for me?” he inquired with surprise.

“Yes,” the young Taoist answered with reverence, “His Highness, Prince Qi, had bid me to invite you to ‘pillow the jade arm, and savor the ruby lips.’ This matter is of utmost haste. If you return late, it will spoil… the beautiful scene of the good hour.”

Liang Xi panicked at once and ducked a look at Zhu Jing. “What the hell is Prince Qi playing at? Is he calling escorts for entertainment again? I’ve said I’m not colluding with his soils. Why is he inviting me? Not going, not going!” he stated angrily.

“His Highness, Prince Qi, had said, Your Highness Prince Jin’s intended is over on the Eight Treasures Lovebirds Tower. The jade flesh awaits with the tender moans. This sort of pretty scene is not common. My Lord, Prince Jin, please consider again,” the young Taoist delivered clearly.

Liang Xi instantly jumped. “What!? My in… intended?” Pointing to Zhu Jing with a crimson face, he said, “this is my intended. How could there be another one? What’s… going on?”

Zhu Jing didn’t mind at all. He politely nodded and prompted to leave. Liang Xi troubled not anymore with etiquette, caught him with one grab, and echoed his invitation to go together in order to prove his innocence. “Isn’t Your Highness Prince Jin meeting someone?” said Zhu Jing, confused. Upon hearing his words, Liang Xi fortified his resolve to take him along, his neck reddening in the anxiety, and Zhu Jing was nagged into agreement. “It’s good that Prince Jin has another intended. Perhaps the other is the one he truly likes,” he thought. Feeling much relieved, even his steps became lighter.

Just as Yujien descended the bridge, he heard the patting of cloth soles; “Master Yu, there’s trouble!” cried several monks, dashing forth.

~

Qu Fongning was suffering amid his agony while he heard hurried steps outside the drapes. Apparently, someone had rushed in. “So impatient. My little brother is certainly a character.” Prince Qi snickered and beckoned at the incomer, “Little brother Youzhen, it’s been a while.”

The income was not as relaxed as him. “Brother Siqao,” he said indignantly. “What are you saying about intended, what jade flesh, what good hour? You’ve really done me dirty!”

“Little brother Youzhen,” said Prince Qi, “I heard you’ve recently fallen in the tangles of love, and been unsuccessful in your pursuits. Your humble brother is older than you by a few years, and naturally, I should take care of you. That is my grand gift to congratulate you on your wedding. You can see for yourself.” He pointed to the bed and assessed Liang Xi several glances. “When did you change your style, wearing so plain? Xuling-zi, help Prince Jin with the marriage gown.”

Xuling-zi answered and immediately went forth, pulling at Liang Xi’s belt. “What’s that?” Liang Xi questioned as he resisted.

Prince Qi snorted a laugh. “It is whatever you want.”

Liang Xi eyed him suspiciously, went before the drapes, extended his hand to lift, but turned around. “It can’t be sister-in-law?”

Prince Qi frankly laughed out loud. “So, you like my wife. Fine, we’ll exchange next time.”

Liang Xi frantically shook his hands. “I.. I don’t! You are one who always does these … utterly incomprehensible things. If I ever so much as looked at sister-in-law, may I be condemned by the heaven and the earth.”

Prince Qi waved nonchalantly. “If you really get up with her, that will solve me an outstanding problem.” And he motioned him to hurry the revelation.

Liang Xi pulled open the drapes and smelled a heavy perfume. On the bed, there was a blushing young man looking at him with eyes full of tears.

He stood dumbfounded, trying for recognition for a long time, before turning around his head. “Who’s this?”

Prince Qi had spent the greater half of the day setting up for this ultimate moment of surprise. Upon the sight, he retracted his smirk. “Isn’t this your libertine Officer Jing?”

“You are talking about Mister Zhu, Zhu Jing? He is drinking tea in the parlor downstairs,” answered Liang Xi, confused.

Prince Qi slanted a look at Xuling-zi. “It seems we need to examine Master Taoist’s eyes with the peach wood sword as well.” He yawned, covering his face, and said, “since it’s not the main cast, kill him and throw him out. It’s useless now.”

Qu Fongning listened inside the curtains with a rising fury: “You not only snatched the wrong man, now the old boy is obviously innocent, and you want to kill me?”

Then he heard Prince Qi say, “Dear little brother Youzhen, send this flagon of wine down. We can still mend the fence after losing the sheep, better late than never—”

And in an instant, a crackling blast—followed by the splintering of door frames, the crashing of tables and chairs, and the shattering of porcelain forming into a booming cacophony. Xuling-zi’s “Who is it!” and Liangxi’s terribly anxious “Mister Zhu!” stacked accord. Then the ripping of fabric and the flapping of drapes tearing into shreds, and Yujien’s colossal figure blocked out the candlelight and wrapped him up with two hands. “Ningning!” he called.

As soon as Qu Fongning fell into his arms and smelled the scent on his body, his tears poured out in a swoosh. Yujien regarded his tearful face and thought he had suffered some kind of abuse. “How is it?” he enquired in a low tone. Qu Fongning was agonizing nearly to death, but could not open his lips. He batted his lids and tears streamed out even more vehemently.

Yujien’s brow peaks stirred, moved his hand to pull over the silk duvet and saw a dark red silken dress on his body, and his brows creased further. He didn’t see any injuries on his body, only his skin was hotter than usual, and the member beneath his navel had swelled erect. He touched him through the clothes, and Qu Fongning’s throat made a groan. With his lips sealed tight and his face unchanging, he cradled Qu Fongning in his arms and stood up.

Zhu Jing saw Liang Xi’s clothing loosened and Qu Fongning in a state of defenselessness; it truly was having the arrow on the string, a most sinister plot. If the monks of Chonghua temple hadn’t pointed the direction, he really couldn’t imagine the implications! In a moment, he became filled with outrage. “You… You are so vile!” he uttered angrily, pointing his sword at Liang Xi.

Liang Xi completely lost his senses and shook his head and hands frantically. “No! It’s not like that! I’m not trying … I don’t even know who he is! It’s them!… They thought this was you…” he uttered repetitively. In his panic, his mouth picked its own words. And how could he explain himself?

When Zhu Jing heard “thought this was you,” his fury burst out of his chest. “So, this is how Your Highness Prince Jin makes friends. I’ve learned a lot today!” He sprang up the long sword, aiming a thrust at him.

“Liang Qian!” cried Liang Xi, his agitation had sprouted into a head full of sweat. “How… did you!? Hurry and explain to Mister Zhu! That it’s all been your direction. It has nothing to do with me!”

“Oh, yeah?” said Prince Qi, Liang Qian, leaning into the lounge chairs, his voice still nonchalant. “Then let me ask you, if the one on the bed was your Mister Zhu, were you going to get on?”

Linag Xi stumbled briefly and then immediately cried out, “I’m not as low as you!”

“Then why did you hesitate?” Liang Qian remarked mildly.

Zhu Jing saw Liang Xi’s face turning red. As to what sort of foul thing he had on his mind, it disgusted him to even think about it. His face drenched pale from rage, and he shook his sword tip and sent forth a rapid strike of Misty violets towards the trio. Xuling-zi let out a cold sneer. His palm shifted, his figure exchanged with his shadow, and blocked out this thrust.

Yujien slowly turned around with Qu Fongning in his arms, the gown dragging on the floor. “Where is Liang Shuting? Tell him to come out.”

Liang Xi felt his austere expression and overwhelming presence. “You… know my uncle? He is currently not here…” he answered on instinct.

Liang Qian gestured a halt, looking at Yujien. “Whom do I have the honor of addressing?” he inquired.

Yujien listened without hearing and stated apathetically: “Raising without discipline is the fault of the father, then I shall discipline for him.” He raised his arm, lifting a nearby bronze bird candlestick, and a force gale soughed and launched towards the trio. Xuling-zi only felt a piercing pain on his face as being sliced by a knife, his breaths caught dead, and dared not to take on the blade force straight on. “My Lord Prince, careful!” he called in desperation, and ensued in sending forth a subtle force from his palm. That was a delicate art that leverages a thousand weights with a meager counter. But as the palm force pushed out, it was as if attempting to fight against a crashing hurricane with the power of a man; he could only affect the candlestick slightly, and the onslaught receded not one bit. And he heard Liang Qian cry out; his left eye had gushed out a bloody wound, so deep as visible to the bone, and bleeding in rain.

Qu Fongning was the closest to him; between now and then, he only felt a massive killing intent enveloping his entire body, and the hairs on his skin all sprang up from their roots.

“Small punishment for a higher warning, no need for gratitude,” he heard Yujien say icily. Liang Xi almost fainted at seeing Liang Qi’s face full of blood. Xuling-zi was also wholly stunned, yet his two palms gradually drew a Taichi and readied to lunge himself forward. Liang Qian pressed on his wound and raised his arm in rail. “You…you are—” he uttered hoarsely, looking straight at Yujien. “Still not on your way?” Yujien cut off his words. Liang Qian dared not to speak anymore and threw a look towards Xuling-zi. Who reacted swiftly and instantly grabbed one in each hand, and dived out of the window. “Mister Zhu, I’ve only been true to you! The sun and the moon can state witness! It really wasn’t me!” Liang Xi’s voice called from afar, even as his body was falling in mid-air.

His flight art was superb; even with two people in his arms, he still moved like a phantom. When Zhu Jing gave chase outside, the trio’s figure had already dusted faint, and he had to make his way back. Upon seeing Qu Fongning’s rigid limbs and only his eyes able to move, he said, “It looks like they have sealed the Boss Junior’s meridian points.” Yujien voiced an umm. “Can you unseal it?” he asked. Zhu Jing worked his mantras in examination and felt a stream of intertwining ying-yang force penetrating the points of his center chest, gallbladder, stomach, and lung. He weighed his inability to unseal them and shook his head. “My learning is not adept, I fear…” Then an idea flashed to his mind, and he said joyfully, “Oh yes! My shifu will arrive shortly. Her venerableness is a master with the inner force cultivation, and can release him for sure.” He sensed his mute points were lightly sealed, thus pressed on his center back, sending his inner force to combat against the meridian seal.

Soon, Qu Fongning choked out a cough. “Da-ge,” he cried meekly, his voice raspy and distorted, obviously suffering immense pain. Yujien’s vision dropped and wrapped him tight. “Ningning, how is it? Are you hurting?” Qu Fongning’s lashes shuddered, but he could not make out a full sentence. He heaved several breaths and articulated in a faint voice, “Clothes.” Yujien saw the great dislike in his eyes and understood he didn’t want to wear this red dress. He searched the four corners, but didn’t see his original gown. “Da-ge’ll help you change later,” he had to say, and to Zhu Jing, “Is your shifu here?” Although it was a question, it had completely changed to the tone of an order. It felt alien to Zhu Jing, who hesitated before starting again, “She’ll be here in an instant. Why doesn’t the Big Boss follow me back to the inn to await her?” Yujien was at a loss with these Central Plains acupoints techniques. “You lead the way,” he thus said. Zhu Jing answered an affirmative and started his figure towards his reposing inn. In the beginning, he feared the pair could not keep up and didn’t use his entire strength. As he got halfway, he turned to look. A carmine cloud as bright as an iridescent nebula was blooming forth much faster than himself. Astounded, he forthwith sped up into a mad dash, and Yujien still did not fall behind.

Their sect siblings, shy in their purse, lived in the cheapest inn by the city periphery. The location was far and remote, and the hall was deserted save a waiter flopped on the counter snoozing away. Yujien kicked open the closest door-pane and laid Qu Fongning on the bed. He leaned in to touch his forehead, felt a hand full of sweat, and saw his moisty eyes watching him with yearning. “Want some water?” he enquired in a low voice. Qu Fongning’s eyes locked on him without blinking. His lips shifted slightly, but indecipherable as to what he said. Yujien pointed to the pot and cups on the table; Zhu Jing noted and hurried to pour and offer a cup of water.

As soon as Qu Fongning left his arms, he felt the utmost agony; for his entire body was discontented, only wanting him to embrace him again. The water came to his lips, but he could not drink, for his lips sealed tight, and his eyes almost teared out again. “Da-ge,” he merely cried out after a great struggle. The voice was lighter than the flapping of insect wings, and Yujien could hear it by almost clinging right onto his lips. “Mn, I’m here,” he answered. Qu Fongning felt his scent in propinquity, and the heat on his body intensified further. He batted his lashes to a mad flicker, hoping he would sense the cue and take him into his arms. However, they just happened to lose all the spark in this moment. Yujien saw his eyes, so fiery to as almost burning, and blinking without cease, but understood none of his meaning. “Ningning, speak. I don’t understand if you just look at me like this,” he said, holding his cheeks. Qu Fongning had just scrambled out of his muddle of ice and fire, and was now at the lowest point of resistance to the aphrodisiac. Seeing his deep-set eyes watching him full of worry, he finally succumbed and breathed a teeny voice by his ears, “Hug… Hug me.” His mind was sober; he knew this was something he shouldn’t say, and the blush on his face deepened in hue.

Zhu Jing watched his sparkling tears, the corners of his eyes running moist, and even the fingers showing through the wedding gown were blushing pink. “What’s up with the Boss Junior?” he asked, bewildered.

“He’s down with aphrodisiac,” said Yujien, his brows creasing tense. He braced his arms and hugged him tight.

Zhu Jing had heard the powers of aphrodisiacs from Yang Yan, who had said even if one only takes a scant amount, they will feel hot all over, become mad with lust, have no idea what they are doing, and could only find release through partnered intercourse. Hearing Qu Fongning had been affected by this unique toxin, he became silently worried, “What are we to do? By this time, where would we go to find a heroic lady to release this poison for the Boss Junior?”

And he heard Yujien ask, “Can your shifu release him?”

“Ahh!” cried Zhu Jing. Then he recalled that Cui Yumei was skilled in medicine, and her father, Cui Chunhua, was also a famous medic of his generation, with the gracious title of Life-saving Buddha. Only her venerableness usually upheld the dignity of her stature and rarely extended her hand to treat others. But for Master Yu, it should be very different, and Shifu was bound to treat them with care.

Yujien listened and nodded faintly. He lifted Qu Fongning up with his clothes and cradled him on his lap. Qu Fongning was finally embraced tightly by him as wished and released a sign of satisfaction. However, this was only feeding a desert with a teacup, and it hardly eased the thirst. He inclined on Yujien’s shoulder and his vision lined perfectly onto his lips; his fiery desires had raged to the limit, and his eyes caught it without rolling. Yujien felt his gaze and lowered his head. “Mn?” he questioned. This lowering of his head, his lips was only half a finger away from him, for even his breath had huffed onto his lips. In this moment, his willpower was thinner than xuan paper; he could no longer control himself, and whispered two little words.

By this point, his voice was husky to the extreme. Yujien used all his might and only heard a “me.” “You what?” he pressed. Qu Fongning was furious to death, but refused to say it again, and the tears started piling in his sockets again. Fortunately, Yujien had a fine intuition; seeing his eyes staring straight at his lips, he understood a little. Despite the situation, he couldn’t help laughing out loud. Qu Fongning’s face immediately became exceedingly spectacular. “I’m already like this. How could you laugh!” it showed. “Okay, no more laughing,” said Yujien, chuckling. He took him to his chest, lowered his head, and pressed a kiss on his hairline.

This was scratching an itch through leather; how could Qu Fongning be satisfied? He immediately stared at him again with full intent. Yujien’s lips, still carrying the faint of a smile, pressed another kiss on his forehead. Seeing the corners of his eyes creasing in fury, he let his finger belly graze over his lips. “Over here?” he asked. Qu Fongning instantly blinked several times. “No,” Yujien said with a smile, shaking his head. Qu Fongning nearly died from wrath, and his eyes at once turned very vicious. “When you wake up later, you’ll regret it.” Yujien held him tight and spoke by his ears, “You’ll probably come at me later, saying I’ve abused a little kid.”

Zhu Jing witnessed clearly by the side, watching them heaving and hugging on the bed and completely taking him as a human-shaped figure. His heart was also terribly anxious, and he quickly found a topic: “Master Yu, do you know Prince Qi?”

“Oh? Why do you say so?” Yujien raised his head.

“I found him very frightful of you. When you mentioned his… father, he ran away in a flight.”

“His father would sooner hide from me, let alone these worthless spawns.”

If Zhu Jing had half an edge more experience on the river and lakes, he should know how wrong these words were. What height of status was Prince Anxin, Liang Shuting? For even the current Son of Heaven might not speak so clear-cut about him. However, so impressively green was he, who merely nodded his head and went on, “Master Yu, the way you were at the at the Eight Treasures Lovebirds Tower was really…” He didn’t know what word to use, considered briefly, and continued, “… a little scary.”

Yujien swept him a look. “I suppose I’ve been on the hills for too long, and still haven’t cleared up some grass-root tendencies. Given the sudden situation, I hope Zhu Shaoxia would not mind.”

These two sentences reverted him to the unremarkable Fujian Merchant. Although Zhu Jing still thought it wasn’t quite right, he could only believe him.

The drug was flaming a tempest within Qu Fongning, who had come to the zenith of his yearnings. For he could see nothing in his eyes, and only watched Yujien full of longing. Seeing him constantly talking to someone else and not looking at himself, his dismay was enormous, and he was determined to take his gaze back. He was exceptionally talented in this area; despite the situation, he still had some methods, and groaned and moaned in Yujien’s arms.

“I… feel queer,” he uttered hoarsely.

Yujien really lowered his head. “Where do you feel queer?” Qu Fongning’s lashes danced without cease, but refused to open his lips. This time, Yujien understood his heart well, supposing he probably couldn’t hold it anymore. He hooked around him with one arm and extended a hand beyond his lower abdomen, past the ripples of red silk, and caught onto a scolding hard member that had raised tall and straight. “This child’s got an uncommon vessel,” was the thought that crossed his mind. Through the dress, he held it in his hand. Then he heard his breath suddenly change tone and his lower member grew a tad higher. “I’ll help you?” he said, chuckling lightly.

When Qu Fongning took his hand to help others, he was bold and forthright, and with no coyness. Now it was his turn falling into Yujien’s hands, he was instead embarrassed to almost have his back burnt cooked. Upon his words, he immediately shut his eyes. And when has Yujien ever served another? After momentary deliberation, he finally hooked around his entire hard erection and starting stroking it up and down. He lived a military life on the horse, and his palm was full of hard callus and especially rough. This silk dress also happened to have a delicate texture. With the two in combined stimulation, Qu Fongning’s lower member swelled with the veins bursting in bulge. How could he resist, and immediately let out a moan.

This moan came right by Yujien’s ear; it was enticing to the bone in a muted resistance, and with a touch of innocent allure. Yujien’s spine tail instantly numbed, and even his arm shuddered. “Don’t moan!” he warned by his ears, his voice also a little hoarse. Qu Fongning regarded him through his tearful misty eyes, almost saying, “I can’t resist,” and could also be pleading with him to go faster. Yujien was powerless and had to continue stroking. He made Qu Fongning’s tears stream without cease, and the echo of his breath came one after another. As Yujien listened to these rustling moans, his body heated up as well. He knew it wasn’t proper and pushed him out of his knees. Qu Fongning knew nothing of his distress, for he only wanted him to hold on tighter. He opened his raven eyes, showing his urge. When Yujien saw these eyes, he wanted nothing so much as to give him a bite. And as soon as this idea came alive, his vision no longer heeded his commands and fell onto the two petals of crimson lips. “What if the old boy kisses them?” he mused.

Zhu Jing had skirted hundreds of steps before the inn, his eyes piercing through the landscape, hoping Cui Yumei would arrive any moment sooner. The noise from the room sounded more and more dangerous, and they agitated him into whirling spins. Finally, he noticed the movements of figures far away, and the one wearing a long green gown and high-braided hair was most discernable to view. “Shifu!” he called in a treble voice, delighted beyond bounds. He left out the kowtow and fetched Cui Yumei’s hand at once, taking her to the rescue. When he finally watched Cui Yumei take over the tearful Boss Junior from Yujien’s arms, he was mad with relief, and hurried to pour water and make tea.

Cui Yumei had an extraordinary perception; her face fell as soon as she saw Qu Fongning’s flushed face. A thin hand clasped onto his feverish wrist. “How long?” she asked. Yujien examined her with caution. “No more than three quarters of an hour,” he replied. “Shifu, can he make it?” Zhu Jing hurried to inquire. “What make it?” Cui Yumei reprimanded. She pulled back her sleeves slightly and probed several fingers upon Qu Fongning. “This is Shuzhong² Cloud Terrace Temple’s specialty acupoint technique, ‘the Four Directions of Zen.’ Had Jingling-zi descended the peaks?” Her fingers swept gently and released the meridian points on his body. As Qu Fongning’s blood and air resumed circulation, his body jerked with tremendous pain; his finger clasped tight, his legs curled up, and the golden bells chimed in a shudder. Yujien pressed his naked legs down with a flat face and held his hand. Qu Fongning’s lower body was still uncomfortably swollen, and his face watched him with yearning. He didn’t care about the other people around; he only wanted his embrace and to continue. Yujien imperceptibly shook his head, signaling a “no.”

Cui Yumei finally noticed Yujien. “You, out!” she shooed. “I’m staying here to watch him,” Yujien said in an undertone. “Who are you?” Cui Yumei said with dismay. Zhou Mo went forth a step. “This Master Yu was the benefactor who saved us four disciples’ lives.” Chui Yumei’s countenance immediately calmed and nodded. “Please excuse my manners. This aged one needs to work the mantras to expel the poison and release the drug from your son. I hope the Great Patron can withdraw for a while,” she explained.

Yujien didn’t care about her odd addresses. Observing her penetrating vision and her clothes stirring a gust with her moves, he surmised her kungfu was not bad. “Then I shall trouble Grandmaster Cui,” he gestured and rose. Qu Fongning felt exceedingly aggrieved, and tugged on him, not letting go. “Da-ge,” he called with a low voice. Yujien lowered to caress his forehead. “Ningning, be good,” he coaxed, then let go of his hand and walked out.

Zhou Mo and the others followed in retreat. Zhu Jing attended tea for his elder siblings in order. He saw Yujien was standing outside with his back to the inn and also poured a cup of clear tea for him. Finding him watching the pale night sky, he said, “The Boss Junior will be fine.” Yujien nodded but didn’t reply. Zhu Jing served the tea to him and stood by his shoulder for a moment. “They were going… for me. The Boss Junior’s suffering is also… because of me,” he said. It was his poor choice of friends and mistrusting treachery. He was filled with guilt and sank his head low.

Yujien at last slanted him a glance. “I’m not blaming you.” Upon seeing his great guilt, he patted his head. “If they got you, I would’ve saved you, too. What’s the difference?”

Zhu Jing’s heart started a wild tumble, and he peeked at his side profile. “Ah, umm, thank you,” he replied awkwardly. Remembering Cui Yumei had mistaken Qu Fongning as his son, he ruminated, “If only they were really father and son. That… would be fine!”

~

In the room, Qu Fongning was forced to sit up by Cui Yumei. His body was weak and had to lean on Cui Yumei’s hands on his back. Suddenly, Cui Yumei voiced an ehh, as if she had encountered something odd. “What kungfu have you practiced?” she raised an inquiry. His lips shuddered slightly, but he had no strength to answer. Cui Yumei thus asked no more. Her palm sent out a force; a sense of coolness gradually sprawled from his back, and the heat in his body receded. Soon, he was showered in sweat, and even the small clothes within the dress soaked wet. A moment later, the touch on his back gradually turned hazy and his head became dozy; unknown to be asleep or awake, whether lucid or in a dream.

And then he opened his eyes with a sense of unease, and found Cui Yumei sitting formally by the bedside with a solemn expression. “You have imbalance on triple burners, deficiency of six channels, disturbance in heart collaterals, and impediments in arteries. Do you know?” she said, meeting his gaze.

Whenever Qu Fongning’s seizure of ice and fire struck, he would have several days of sore limbs and hollow steps. By now, the potency of the drugs had receded, and he was most exhausted. Upon her words, he merely answered with a muted “I know.” He regarded Cui Yumei for a moment and inquired, “… is there treatment?”

Cui Yumei slowly shook her head. “Your pulse moves abnormally; the air is not continuous. This is a terminal sign. You have at most… ten years to live.”

Qu Fongning’s eyes shifted slightly and looked up towards the decrepit bed curtains. “Ten years, that’s not enough,” he muttered.

Cui Yumei walked the path of blood and blade, living on days of dawn without eve on the rivers and lake, and took life and death as light as a feather. She scorned his greed for life and fear of death. She pushed open the door and left.

Yujien followed to enter and found his face pale, the torrent of redness receding clean, and his vision returned to clarity. He thus sent for his clothes. Qu Fongning hid his face in the covers as soon as he saw him. Yujien patted his sweat soaked neck. “What are you playing at again? Get up, change your clothes.”

His voice was so serious, which was completely out of Qu Fongning’s expectation. He snuck his face out a little and peered at him in disbelief.

“You… why aren’t you teasing me?”

“Why should I tease you?” he said, letting out a laugh. He lowered to look at him. “They drugged you; I would sooner distress over you,” he said grimly.

Qu Fongning had just been told he had ten years to live, and really couldn’t feel any joy. By now, he could only force a smile and stretch out a hand. “Then let’s make a promise: just now… you oughtn’t to tell anymore,” he said.

“You were sober?” Yujien was surprised. He saw him blush red again, laughed, and extended his palm for a clap. Qu Fongning was finally reassured. He laid on his knees, peeled off the crumpled wedding gown with two, three tugs, and pulled up his base layers. Just as he settled his underwear, he found Yujien regarding him with a smile in his eyes.

“What… are you smiling about?” he stuttered.

“Smiling at your cuteness,” said Yujien. He fished out the strap by his base layers and helped it up.

When he completed his assemblage and explained the ins and outs of the incident, Zhu Jing was as if awakened from a dream. “I had misjudged Prince Jin.” Guilt filled his heart, and he lowered his head in thought, “how should I apologize to him?”

Qu Fongning’s voice was hoarse, and his body was weak; after a lengthy account, his volume gradually dropped. Yujien took him in his arms and patted his back, preventing further speech. “It’s been hard for you today. Those two little dogs are not to be touched at the moment. Wait… until later, I’ll cut off their heads and let you kick around for fun,” he said in a low voice.

Qu Fongning flinched in his heart. The gaze with which he regarded him was exceedingly tender, but beneath those eyes was a sea of austere chill. So, he had to assume delight and answer with an “okay.”

Cui Yumei asked for a room from across and questioned her disciples on the day at the dilapidated temple. As she heard to the end, her brows had furrowed tight. “Shi Jingguang’s nature should not have been so evil; he was probably incited by a base villain. That third generation disciple is not a simple character. The Southern Seas Sect is keeping a tiger cub in the crib; they might encounter some big trouble soon,” she concluded.

Yujien silently commended her for making an accurate conjecture of the events through a mere two, three lines. With this critique, he couldn’t help passing a look to the other side. Qu Fongning observed the sharpness in his eyes. “Da-ge, what is it?” he asked in haste.

“Nothing. This Grandmaster Cui is impressive,” said Yujien. He let him rest on his arms and held up the water to feed him.

Qu Fongning paused. “Ye…ah,” he agreed. This impressive Grandmaster Cui had sealed his lifetime with the touch of his wrist. Thinking his long years of hard maintenance may not garner him a life to see his mother and sister again, his mood dropped to the bottom of the vale. He took a small sip of water and drank no more.

~

Cui Yumei examined her disciples’ injuries and inquired about the details of Fragrant Sea Buddha’s treatment. “This disciple attempted to broil deer musk and borneol into a medicinal soup, but it was ineffective. When I applied Shi Tianqing’s method, reprieve was possible within two hours,” answered Yang Caihe. Cui Yumei frowned. “How would you have the time to work that out before an opponent? Vertigo and dizziness are associated with the lung; it is a pathogenic wind-heat toxin, which will require the strength of metal in the lung to control.” She was silent for a moment, ruminating on the counter. Zhou Mo saw Shifu was still dusty from travel, brought over clear water, and served a towel to her.

Cui Yumei took over the towel but didn’t clean her face, but turned to Zhou Mo. “A’mo, who revealed the matter of the theft of the pillaring treasures?” She started slowly.

Zhou Mo stirred and instantly dropped to his knees. But Yang Caihe cut in to kneel. “It was this disciple.” And Zhou Mo banged his head on the floor. “No, it’s me.” Yang Caihe didn’t look at him at all and only regarded Cui Yumei. “Shifu, it’s this disciple. Sixth Shifi and Eighth Shidi can give testament.” Her tone had a sense of plea.

“Those two instruments, I presume, you also spoke of them?” Cui Yumei said mildly.

Just as Zhou Mo opened his mouth, Yang Caihe interjected, “Yes, this disciple wishes to receive Shifu’s punishment.” She let loosen her hair, taking off the dragonfly contraption, and even pushed forward the phoenix tablet before Cui Yumei’s foot.

Zhou Mo was never good with words. Seeing Yang Caihe undressing the hairpin to accept penance, he also silently took down his White Steed Sword and placed his name tablet on the ground.

“A’mo, are you admitting guilt with Caihe because of negligence of discipline? Unworthy of being the exemplary disciple of our sect?” Cui Yumei questioned Zhou Mo, her gaze cold.

“The matter of the instruments,” said Zhou Mo, “it’s this… this guilty disciple revealed through his own lips.”

Yang Caihe gave him a mild look. “First Shixiong, you must shoulder the great responsibility of the sect; you ought not to act on impulse,” she said, and knelt towards Cui Yumei. “It was all this disciple’s haughty words, and it had nothing to do with First Shixiong. Would Shifu please judge wisely.”

Zhou Mo said nothing, but his expression was exceedingly resolute.

Cui Yumei’s gaze sank, surveying left and right at the kneeling pair. Zong Yan and Yang Yan read the building reprobation on shifu’s countenance, looming with a sense of storm, they were sooner going down to plead, but Cui Yumei slammed her right hand on the chair-arm, and neither dared to say anything. “Shifu,” Zhu Jing beseeched instead, “it was that Southern Seas Sect girl who wanted to cut off Second Shijie’s arm; that’s why First Shixiong was in a plight to speak. Or else even if there were ten thousand blades on his flesh, he would never reveal a single word.”

Cui Yumei sounded an ohh. “So, there were accomplices. Mn, what is the third rule in the sect’s commandment?” She pointed to Zhou Mo. “You speak.”

Zhou Mo was going to start, but Zhu Jing still resisted, “Shifu, Shifu, are two cold dead objects more important than Shixiong and Shijie’s lives?”

“Out of order, what’s with the clamoring?” Cui Yumei reproached. Her gaze fell on Yang Caihe and said, “Caihe, you harbored your own sect member; you have commended the crime of deceit. Although it happened for a reason, it was nonetheless an unforgivable crime. Do you accept punishment?”

“Shifu!” cried Zhou Mo. Cui Yumei raised her palm, her expression stern. “This disciple accepts punishment,” replied Yang Caihe, her voice as cool as usual, but belying a subtle sense of relief.

And Cui Yumei shook her hand and exhaled a breath, and started slowly, “Then you ought to be punished… to harbor him for the rest of your life.”

As her words dropped, all the jaws in the room did so as well. Zong Yan was the first to react, already leaping up “Shifu, you, you are saying… Second Shijie, Second Shijie…” He cried, pointing to Yang Caihe, then to Zhou Mo, surprised and delighted, and in disbelief.

Zhu Jing didn’t figure it out and hastily inquired towards Yang Yang, who pressed on his shoulder, so happy that he couldn’t close his mouth. “First Shixiong and Second Shijie… are going to get married!” Zhu Jing’s eyes instantly widened. “That’s… that’s amazing!” Cui Yumei’s expression remained as usual, but a smile lifted the corner of her lips. “Shifu, is it true?” he rushed to confirm.

“You think Shifu doesn’t understand those little ideas of yours? Those old-timers of Wudang and E’mei have all made their subtle grumbles, saying how I was impersonal in delaying the grand matters of young people’s lives. I’m just pushing the craft along the stream, not feeding their gossip.”

“Shifu, thank you for granting our engagement,” said Zhou Mo, kneeling in full respect, boundlessly happy. Zong Yan and Yang Yan already huddled in, congratulating him on attaining his wish, and demanding for the wedding drinks from Shijie. And a splash of pink also flew up Yang Caihe’s usually expressionless face.

Zhu Jing was naturally happy for them. Yet somehow, his tears suddenly surged up and a deep pain rounded in his chest. He wiped the corners of his eyes, unable to understand it himself: “Why am I so sad?”

At this point, Cui Yumei’s gaze bypassed the others and landed on him. “Jing’er,” she slowly began, “what is the matter with Prince Jin, Liang Xi?”

The air in the room tensed at her words. Yang Yan was the first to jump; he cut in to explain the story, rendering high on how Prince Jin was shameless and how Little Shidi’s resolute refusals. Cui Yumei’s expression did not stir. “These actions of his. Is he really trying to be friends?” she asked, looking at Zhu Jing.

Zhu Jing knelt perfectly straight. “No,” he said, his eyes on the floor, “he said he was spirited away mind and soul for me as soon as he saw me. But as long as I am unwilling, he would be fine with only being friends.”

Yang Yan and the others all nipped their cold sweat at his bold words. Even Yujien silently shook his head. “This child is way too honest. How can you say this?”

Cui Yumei’s face sank. “You know he has evil intent; but you still maintain your acquaintance?”

Zhu Jing stumbled and lifted his eyes. “He doesn’t seem to have an ill intent—”

Cui Yumei exploded in wrath; her right hand slapped a violent slam and the chair-arm instantly shattered. “Without ill-intent? That Prince Jin and his thugs kidnapped and drugged people, their methods are lower than animals! If you were… were… how could you go about on the rivers and lakes in the future? Jing’er, you are so foolish!”

Zhu Jing grew up in Cui Yumei’s affection and had never seen her true wrath. He paled in agitation, but still maintained his assertion. “No… It wasn’t him. That was Prince Qi’s direction.”

Cui Yumei, furious beyond words, stood up suddenly, her inner force surging the surrounding air, even her gown rising in flutter. Zhou Mo and the others saw the sinking situation, all pooled down on their knees. “Shifu, please rest your fury!” they chorused. Yang Yan even blocked Zhu Jing behind himself, throwing him a look, charging him to lower his head and admit his wrong.

“He and Prince Qi are two vulgar swines with the same foul tastes,” Cui Yumei roared, “They are plotting together to lure you into their trap and lose your lifelong honor! — And you are going to speak for him?”

Zhu Jing recalled Liang Xi’s demeanor on the bridge and thought, “Was that a lie? No, it couldn’t be. If it were a lie, it wouldn’t be said so sincerely.” But seeing Shifu rocking with rage, he dared not to open his lips, and dropped his head.

Cui Yumei read the resolve in his eyes, obviously not believing what she said. In her intense rage, her heart throbbed in pain. “Jing’er, let Shifu ask you,” her voice cracked. “Did you really… develop feelings… for a man?”

Zhu Jing’s shoulders quivered and his head drooped lower. Yang Yan almost agitated into flames, trying all his might to make him open his lips. And Zhu Jing remained staring at the ground to the end, without a word.

Cui Yumei’s heart ached deeply. And the Twelve-order Sword’s chill flashed, sooner plunging on his head.

~

Qu Fongning, exhausted and resting on Yujien, had already started snoozing. Hearing the scuffle, he woke up and found Zhu Jing kneeling on the floor, and Cui Yumei in a thunderous rage. “Why did Grandmaster Cui get mad?” he asked, perplexed.

“Probably because Zhu Shaoxia made some inappropriate friends,” said Yujien. His knees had numbed from his pillowing, and he extended his hand for a flick on his forehead.

Qu Fongning’s eyes gleamed. “Is it the friend who sent the white elephants? Why can’t they be acquainted?” he asked.

“What else would he want? Being nice for no reason,” scoffed Yujien.

“What does he want?” persisted Qu Fongning, curious. Upon Yujien’s vague words, he rolled around on his knees, determined for him to explain properly. And Yujien had to answer, “Feng is a man and Huang is a woman³. It has always been Feng pursuing Huang, but Prince Jin wants to… Feng to pursue Feng. The yin-yang unity between man and woman is the way of heaven. He wants to go against the heavens, and that is inherently wrong.”

Qu Fongning nodded in illumination, silently musing, “Only the Feng Zhu Shao Xia desires is not Prince Jin.” And he asked, “Then would you say he can get it?”

Yujien arched his brows. “What can he do even if he gets it? Liang already has a wife and family; it’s not like he can really marry him with rights and seal. He can’t do more than build a sparrow tower and keep Zhu Shaoxia in there.”

Qu Fongning heeded his words as truth. “Poor Zhu Shaoxia!” he sympathized.

“What’s wrong with it?” Yujien smiled at him. “I’ll build you a tall tower and attend to you with good food and drinks every day. Whatever you want to eat, whatever you want to play, you can have them with the wave of your hands. If you are bored, I’ll get people to sing and dance for you. Isn’t that swell?”

“No,” Qu Fongning refused with solemnity. He leaned on his shoulder and opened his arms. “I want to stay next to you, not going anywhere. If you are in the sky, I’ll be in the sky. If you’re in the water, I’ll be in the water!”

His breath was still weak, and this grand statement was professed with many gasps. Yujien made a measure of his sweaty shoulder blades. “It’s not hard for me to agree. But you better grow your little wings quickly!” he said, chuckling.

~

Zhou Mo and the group blanched at Shifu drawing her blade, and rushed forth in pleads. Rage consumed Cui Yumei’s face, and her blade shook without ceasing. She saw, on his body, Zhu Jing was still wearing the old gown which she had personally folded into his baggage; eighteen years of master and disciple sentiments were flashing before her eyes. How could she make the cut?

Yujien had predicted no worries and thus troubled no more. He returned to the residence with Qu Fongning, settled him in bed, and picked him a long grassy reed. “If anyone comes again, you can blow on this,” he said. Qu Fongning ballooned his face and tried a blow. “You’ll come?” he asked, mumbling. And Yujien laughed. “Mn, I’ll be here to take the money for your sales,” he teased. Qu Fongning immediately blew a shrill and high note, as to show his dismay. When Yujien returned to his room and laid down, he heard the other side whistling in tweets and chirps. On careful listening, it even had a melody, and it was a vaguely familiar tune:

The river water will never exhaust,

Beautiful skylark don’t forget your love past!

…

His heart couldn’t resist a smile. He ordered men to guard the gates of the western chambers and thus fell asleep.

Qu Fongning slowly let out the grassy reed in the darkness, his gaze staring for length on the meshed ceiling, and flipped off the bed. He picked up the pair of tiger-head shoes and clasped it in his hands.

~

A Flagon of Wine before the Bloom was substantial in its residual effects. Qu Fongning’s entire body was as soft as silk in the wake after, and he laid on the bed for several days, almost dying in boredom. He heard from Yujien that the Jiuhua sect was sending hands out in secret to retrieve their pillar treasures. And they had uprooted every shred of land in the estate of Qian Yahe, the Chief Supervisor of the Textile of Jiangnan. Cher Bien rejoiced in taking the cheap cover, and also followed in the infiltration, piercing his point at every crack, and digging the four directions for the method of weaving. When he returned, he recounted the curious tales of the Qian Estate, saying how this General Commissioner of Jiangsu, Wang Siyuan, loves to drink liquor with prostitutes’ little embroidered shoes; it was truly unimaginable how he could swallow his gulps. And at once, he thought of a plan, and asked Cher Bien to steal away Want Siyuan’s pillow overnight. On the second morning, he instructed him to return it. So as such for three successions, which Cher Bien was to complete as told. He was baffled at Qu Fongning staring long and hard at the ruyi pillow full of hair grease and foul sweat, also scooched in for some intent glances, but didn’t discover any particular special qualities. And then he was suddenly enlightened. “Is this a confidential military object for General Yujien?”

Qu Fongning immediately shushed at him. “You can never bring this up with him,” he said secretively, and then he brought out his pleasant face and amiable tone. “Second Brother, it’s been hard for you. I like you the best!”

Cher Bien shuddered in horror and immediately ran away.

On the third day, Qu Fongning was exceptionally prudent and came in person for the return. He inquired about Wang Siyuan’s quarters and peered a look towards the interior. A greasy-haired, balloon-bellied magistrate was shooting spit in fire, reproaching the uselessness of Qian’s servants. He was delighted. And at once he arched his back and tossed the pillow through the window.

This disturbance was truly shocking; not only did it instantly alert the people in the room, for even the birds outside took flight in the fright. Cher Bien mutely cried his anguish and hurried to drag away this professional-code-breaking little ancestor.

Wang Siyuan had been robbed of his pillow for three nights straight, and had long gained suspicion. He picked it up and examined: the rectangular enameled ruyi pillow was largely undamaged as before, but the bottom had been carved with a “Wen,” the blood on the character vivid with a red cross. Startled, he rushed to cover it up with his sleeves. The shock in his heart was unsettling, and after momentary thought, he cried, “Prepare the car! Prepare the car!” Abandoning the luggage altogether, and without delay, he took the carriage northwards.

Qu Fongning hid in a corner of the skywell. Watching the rushed departure, his heart eased somewhat, and he sucked on his bite-through finger.

Cher Bien heaved his incessant laments through the frightened runs of the teams of servants. After, he furtively brought him to land, and enjoined, “You are an expert in fights, but you ought to listen to Second Brother for thieving!”

Qu Fongning agreed on his lips, but as soon as he turned his back, he was no longer obedient. He wandered off for a few steps, then his chest started a sudden pulsing. He halted in bewilderment, and all returned to normal. Yet after a few more steps, in came another round of suspended pulsing. The more south-west, the more this palpitation intensified. He turned about the wall and traversed the yard, and found a tiny worn-down courtyard in the shadow of the spring plums. As he came before the threshold, his entire heart almost had nowhere to go, for it was hanging in limbo, and terribly uncomfortable. The innards in his chest also echoed in hum; almost like a ninth-weight bronze bell had smashed his bosom.

“What’s this curiousness?” He was perplexed. And he pushed open the doors, while his feet made their way towards a ganoderma- and lotus-printed armchair. The blackboard of the chair was unusually thick and heavy. He took his hand for a pull and the backboard came off easily, revealing two pieces of antique instruments of mesmerizing elegance. One was a seven-holed jade flute, as skinny as bamboo and as smooth as butter. The other was a spread of guqin, dense with strings, and as black as ink.

As soon as he saw this qin, his heart started ringing in a buzz. Between now and then, it was as if he had savored all the joy and despair of the human realm, wanting to burst into raucous laughter, and aching to break into anguished howls. As the tips of his fingers touched the qin’s charcoal body, his tears couldn’t stop falling, and his mind was hazy with incomprehension. “Why am I crying?”

His tears fell more and more, and slowly seeped into the seams of the wooden board. He wiped away his tears and snapped the backboard, exposing a hidden drawer at the breakpoint. When he squeezed his hand in to investigate, he felt the secret within; it was a plain silk booklet. Turning for a skim, dotted in cram, it was filled with the processes of brocade, charmeuse, chiffon, and crepe-de-chine.

He cradled this booklet, his heart turning hundreds of thousands of swivels. Would he clap his hands, these thin silks would instantly shred into powder. But remembering Yujien’s words, he wavered in indecision. His thoughts tumbled left and right, and his tears fell even more.

“Give me that!” a shrill, cold voice suddenly came from beyond the doors.

He lifted his head in shock. A yellow-gowned monk was glaring at him from the plum tree. “What?” he questioned, knowing the incomer was unfriendly.

“Give me the thing in your hands!” scowled the monk.

How would Qu Fongning be willing? He tucked the silken booklet into his bosom, took up the two instruments, and lunged out of the doors. Before he made it through the threshold, a large pall of yellow smoke suddenly exploded. He was most swift in the field, knowing this mist oughtn’t be touched, halted forthwith, spun, kicked through the western window, and bolted out. On his way, he encountered two guards, who he took down each with a palm strike. The monk pursued in imperative urgency. With this minor delay, his staff already pointed forth, sweeping right on his center back, striking a singular pain.

Qu Fongning, frightened, rushed towards the northern estate walls. The Qian estate was three streets away from Chonghua Temple. In his mind, he only thought about seeking help from Yujien and feared he couldn’t escape any faster. As he came before the estate walls, he cried a “Hard life.” The red walls were almost a whole zhang tall. He estimated the possibility of climbing and turned to focus his air, prompting for combat.

The monk heckled two laughs. “Little pup of Jiuhua Sect, you’re not a worthy opponent of the Lord Buddha. Save your strength and go kiss your lordling’s ass!” His staff plucked towards the guqin of his hand, aiming to heist. Qu Fongning spread out five fingers and leveraged the force, climbing to the staff crown. The monk let out an ehh, full of bewilderment. Qu Fongning cycled his supply force, forcing him stumbling backwards through the adherence. The monk became even more astonished. “What sort of heretical art is this?” With two probes, Qu Fongning knew the opponent’s kungfu was worse than his, and no longer hurried to run. Seeing the incoming staff sweep, he leaned in for a grab instead. After his staff was guided off-course for two or three successions, wanting no tangle, the monk sank his left hand into his chest pocket and splashed a pound of yellow dust towards Qu Fongning.

When he saw his flickering gaze, Qu Fongning knew. As the yellow haze assaulted forth, he made an instant tumble on the ground, dodging past the danger. At the hour, the sky was grey with gloom, dripping occasional drizzles every now and then, and the earth was full of mud. With this roll, he was full of mud. And dear old heaven was unkind; the thread of rain flew into an angle, bringing forth the yellow mist towards him.

His eyes saw nowhere to run, then his back tensed, and he was lifted up, as if riding on the clouds and mists. “Shi Chaoyin, why don’t you see who this is?” said a cold female voice; it was Falling Flower Counting Green, Cui Yumei.

Shi Chaoyin squinted to look. “Isn’t this my good Shishu? Why, how did he fall into this old hag’s hand?” he shrieked.

By her foot, flopped a man with a face full of blood and hanging on a breath. He was precisely the Grandmaster of the Southern Seas Sect, Shi Jingguang. Cui Yumei frowned at his uncouth language. “You plotted a foul scheme against my disciples. The evilness of your heart and obscenity of your methods were unworthy even for demonic cults! I have already eliminated the chief criminal; kneel and plead your guilt!”

Shi Chaoyin let out a haa, all nonchalant. “Kill if you will. What’s with all the twaddle? Unless you find my shishu too handsome, and want to keep him as…” Before he finished, Cui Yumei had stirred her long sword, piercing towards his crown. Shi Chaoyin didn’t expect the speed. He made a hurried block with the staff—Kaa— and the head of the staff was sliced in half. The Qian estate had crowded in. He knew the direness and started the Clouds of Mount Putuo towards the outer walls. Cui Yumei snorted a cold hmph. And like a shadow to a figure, she caught up.

Qu Fongning watched as a fly on the wall. Cui Yumei’s sword flickered and Shi Chaoyin parried left and right, without any measure of retaliation. Within three to five strikes, Shi Chaoyin’s forehead was struck, his face pooled in blood, and he rolled to the side, unknown to be alive or dead. Then Qu Fongning finally dragged along the half-dead Shi Jingguang by his side, hopped off, and conducted his gratitude towards Cui Yumei. As soon as she saw the guqin and jade flute in his cradle, her eyes glowed. “You… where did this…” Cui Yumei said in a quavering voice.

Qu Fongning observed her intense excitement and passed over the items in haste. “I found it inside,” he said. The flute was fine, but when the guqin left his hands, he was immensely begrudged, and tears almost started down again.

Cui Yumei forced her calm. “These are the pillaring treasures of my Jihua Sect. We’ve searched long without avail. All thanks to the young master’s retrieval. Our humble sect is boundlessly grateful,” she said. Then she took out a cloth, and gently wiped away the rain and the mud from the jade flute, not sparing a single look at the guqin.

Seeing the bridge of the guqin smeared with soils, Qu Fongning felt an inexplicable pang of sadness at. And finding Shi Jingguang was still afar, flopped face-up on all fives, he went over to kick at his head. “Grandmaster Cui, is he dead?” he inquired casually.

Cui Yumei drew out the blue cloth and wrapped the jade flute up with tender care. And she didn’t even lift her head to the conversation. “Can’t die yet!” she replied.

Qu Fongning nodded. And as he whirled around, a killing intent loomed from his back; it was Shi Chaoyin pulling out an extremely slender water-splitting steel thorn, charging towards him. In his wake, he kicked up Shi Jingguang from the ground without consideration, wanting to block away this desperate ship-sinking attack. Shi Chaoyin came with full force and had not a sliver of hesitation facing this shishu. The steel thorn pierced through Shi Jingguang’s chest, the force receding not, and was soon going to impale through Qu Fongning.

Cui Yumei saw the sudden vicissitude and flung out her Twelve-order Sword sheath towards Shi Chaoyin’s crown. But before the sheath flew in, Qu Fongning had tripped his left hand outwards, guiding the steel thorn towards the side; his right hand extended straight, with five fingers like steel claws, and burrowed into Shi Chaoyin’s heart. A blossom of bloody mist instantly bloomed before Shi Chaoyin’s chest, and his eyes rounded huge in hideous ferocity. The sheath flew forth and landed a heavy smack on his head, and at once he fell back, dead of breath.

“So close,” he yelped in his heart, pushing aside Shi Jingguang’s body. And just as he found his hands full of blood, and was considering finding something for a wipe, a sudden mountain-cracking and earth-shattering force compressed him onto the wall.

Cui Yumei, eyes bloody crimson, stared deathly at his face, the cracks of her teeth biting out five words:

“—Six Finger Sky Mesh Hands!”

---