After the formal onset of summer, the nights in Jiugao were rarely windy. Even the vast, seemingly boundless Lixin Lake saw few waves; from a distance, the surface appeared as smooth as a mirror.
The first quarter moon had passed, and it was nearing fullness. The moon looked as if it had been sliced in two by a sharp blade—one half hanging in the sky, the other submerged in the water.
Tonight, dozens of "flower boats" and painted pleasure cruisers drifted scattered across Lixin Lake, interspersed with numerous shuttle-shaped small skiffs. These were prepared for those wanderers of the martial world who wished to board the larger vessels for entertainment but feared encountering enemies; should a passenger sense danger and wish to leave quickly, they could leap onto a shuttle boat and vanish at maximum speed.
The boatmen of these shuttle skiffs understood the unspoken rules of the trade. When they had no passengers, they used iron chains to tether their small boats to the larger vessels. This allowed them to solicit business nearby and facilitated the boarding and disembarking of guests. Furthermore, it stabilized their crafts without the need for anchors, allowing for a much faster departure. The owners of the large ships tacitly accepted this custom. At times, small boats linked to large ones, and large ones linked to others, until ten massive vessels were joined together in the middle of the lake. Viewed vertically, it looked like a celestial pavilion rising out of nowhere upon the water; viewed horizontally, it resembled a winding, endless floating bridge. Between the pavilions and the bridges, the water shimmered—the moonlight of Lixin Lake dancing upon the ripples.
And right now, a shadow was flashing rapidly through this moonlit lake-scape.
The shadow moved with such speed that it was almost imperceptible; in a daze, one might think it was merely a momentary flicker of moonlight on the surface.
Xin Yu, weaving through the large ships and small boats by borrowing momentum with every light tap of her toes, flipped over several drunken passengers and nimbly dove deeper into the darkness of the night.
It had been a long time since she had enjoyed such a clear night, and even longer since she had run and roamed so freely between heaven and earth.
Her identity dictated that she was destined to always linger in dark corners. She had to learn to pack herself into the stiff, dull garments of a maidservant. The colors of her upper clothes could not be too bright, and a smile had to be permanently fixed upon her plain face. Her gaze was always lowered, fixed on the ground a few inches before her toes, and her mouth always had to be ready with respectful, appropriate rhetoric.
But the longer she lived such a life, the more certain she became that she was not that kind of person.
She liked the open rivers and seas; she liked loose, casual clothing; she liked strange and eccentric colors; she liked killing people with a cold face; she liked gazing at the silent horizon; and she liked maintaining silence amidst the clamor.
Occasionally, in the depths of the night, she would catch glimpses of childhood memories in heavy dreams. In those dreams, polished and blurred by time, there were the faint ripples of river water, the heavy thud of oars, and the soft humming of a tune by her *A-ma*.
She thought she must be the daughter of some fisherman or boatman. A few days later, she would feel she was perhaps just a child of a family living by the water. Eventually, she would forget the matter entirely, until those familiar yet fragmented images dreamt their way back to her again.
She thought: *I am not a person without a beginning.*
She had only temporarily forgotten her past. One day, she would find the life that truly belonged to her. She would give herself a name she could remember, and then live in the way she liked.
As long as she resolved tonight’s business, she would not be far from that day.
As long as she cleared this current hurdle.
The faint sound of wind behind her drew closer. Xin Yu paused for a heartbeat, shifting her direction mid-leap, yet the sound behind her did not fall back in the slightest.
*He’s here already?*
Xin Yu turned her head for a quick glance at the figure pursuing her relentlessly. After identifying the newcomer, she immediately retracted her gaze. Looking back would affect her judgment during high-speed movement; when one became the prey of a peregrine falcon, a single misstep or a revealed flaw could result in being buried in the hawk’s belly the next moment.
She steadied her mind. Using the shadows cast by the various vessels, she headed toward a relatively open stretch of water not far away. After passing through several obstacles, she rapidly shed the maid’s attire she used as a disguise, revealing the water-suit she favored most. Like a fish-spirit or river-monster shedding its human skin, she revealed her true form and dove headlong into the pitch-black lake water where the lanterns could not reach.
As expected, the shadow following her paused, stopping at the stern of the nearest shuttle boat, not pursuing immediately.
Engaging that youth in close quarters in the lower hold of the Su family’s cargo ship was the most risky and foolish thing she had ever done. But she had quickly realized that this troublesome swordsman seemed to fear water. As long as there was a place to stand, he would never allow himself to get even slightly wet. Thus, on that day, after she used her water-suit to dive into the river, he could only stand on a piece of driftwood, refusing to take another step forward. She had escaped with her life that way, leaving the youth—whose killing arts were far superior to her own—behind on the river surface.
Weaknesses mostly stem from habits. Habits are not formed in a day, and weaknesses are almost impossible to overcome overnight. Some people spend their entire lives unable to cross a certain hurdle. Therefore, she was repeating her old trick tonight, leaving her pursuer to do nothing but stomp his feet on the shore...
*Swish.*
The sound of breaking air rang out. A sharp bamboo pole grazed her left arm and plunged into the bottom of the lake. Xin Yu’s heart jolted. While holding her breath and diving deeper, she turned her head to look through the water’s surface toward the direction the pole had come from.
In the night scene distorted by the ripples, the youth in plain cloth stood quietly on that shuttle boat. His left hand still held that rusty saber, but something else had appeared in his right.
It was a punting pole. One end had been sliced off by a sharp blade, making it look incredibly sharp. The youth held it like a spear, his light brown eyes narrowing slightly as he stared intently at the movements hidden beneath the quiet current.
The moment she made a move, a second pole whistled through the air. Like the sharp beak of a water bird, it plunged straight into the water, instantly skewering the "swimming fish" that intended to slip away beneath the surface.
A splash erupted along with a woman’s scream. Xin Yu emerged from the water, clutching her bleeding shoulder. She turned to glare hatefully at the youth in plain cloth, gritting her teeth as she spoke.
"To show so little tenderness toward a beautiful woman... how will you ever find a wife in the future?"
Li Qiao did not speak. The rusty saber in his hand spun once, and then he leapt down from the stern. His hem swept through the night like the silent wings of an owl on a night hunt.
Bloodstains spread through the lake water like a tail she couldn't shake off. Xin Yu knew she could no longer use the lake as cover. She burst from the water and dove into a nearby reed marsh overgrown with weeds.
Water birds nesting by the lake for the night were startled into flight, circling in the air without descending.
Beneath the clear lake water that barely reached the knees was thick, soft silt, a source of irritation for any pursuer who stepped into it.
Li Qiao came to a halt at the edge of the reed marsh.
A peregrine falcon was fierce, certainly, but a cunning rabbit was also difficult to deal with. The opponent knew that moving through dense reed leaves would inevitably make noise, and a martial artist could track her position without much effort. Therefore, once she entered the marsh, she found a spot to hide and remained perfectly still. This way, even the most brilliant hunter would have no way to start.
The youth in plain cloth clearly understood her intent. He did not rush in but waited at the edge of the marsh, his gaze fixed on the flock of birds circling in the night sky.
After a moment, the birds finally began to land. Countless small black dots scattered into the reeds. However, a person as meticulous as a hair might notice that there was only one spot in the marsh where not a single water bird landed.
It was no coincidence; it was because someone was hiding there.
Li Qiao raised his saber, point forward and edge turned upward, silently probing into the depths of the reeds.
Reed leaves, sliced clean, flew past his ears. Hiding in the darkness, Xin Yu judged the position by the sound. Holding her breath, she crouched down, narrowly avoiding the strike. She made a new judgment in her heart.
From their previous encounters, she had already seen that the youth practiced a method of killing—every move was lethal, leaving no room for error. He had previously exposed his movements and let her escape, so meeting again tonight, he should only want to kill her to silence her. Yet after several exchanges, she discovered that although she could feel his killing intent and pressure while he pursued, that intent would be deliberately suppressed at every critical moment. It was precisely that bit of weighing and hesitation that gave her room to breathe.
She was a slippery loach in muddy water; as long as there was the slightest crack, it gave her a chance to turn and maneuver.
She had viewed the posters for her arrest in the city from afar, and she had been paying attention to every rustle of grass and movement of wind outside the city these past few days. She knew she was the key to that case. The things she knew, the people she had seen, and the items that had passed through her hands would all become the pivot upon which the situation would either turn or be finalized—and they would also become her life-saving talisman.
She was a person without a side. Whoever could keep her alive was her side.
Whether it was the newly arrived Protector, the Second Young Master of the Qiu family, or the one who had sent her into the Su Manor—they were all merely temporary camps where she stayed during her travels.
Perhaps, there would soon be one more.
As her thoughts swirled, the swordsman who had already pinpointed her hiding place approached again. This time, he was aiming for her legs. If this continued, even if he truly didn't want her life, he would likely hack her into a cripple and drag her back for questioning.
Crouching in the grass, Xin Yu cursed under her breath, forced to move again.
The swaying leaves obstructed her flying needles. After several crisp *clangs*, she saw the reeds parted before her eyes, and the hunter’s figure emerged from the night.
The tip of the blade, the edge, and the youth’s murderous eyes formed a single line. Her gaze was almost cut by that sharp line. In her panic, she felt that although she was in an open place, it was as if she had returned to that narrow, burning cabin. No matter how she dodged, that cold aura drew closer inch by inch.
*Clang!*
The sound of metal striking metal tore through the silent night. The overflowing killing intent shredded the grass and mist, sending a fine haze rising above the reed marsh.
The youth’s saber was knocked aside by a surge of brute force. The opponent’s strength was so great that he was forced back three steps before he could steady himself.
He looked up and saw the woman who had changed back into red clothes standing not far away. The long saber at her waist was already unsheathed, the scale patterns on the blade glinting with cold light under the moon.
"I’m taking this person for my Young Master! If you know what’s good for you, stay away!"
Li Qiao gave a cold snort. With a flick of his wrist, that rusty saber actually let out a low hum.
"If not for my Elder Sister’s word, when would it ever be your turn?"
Seeing this, Jiang Xin'er assumed the other party was desperate to silence the witness but felt he posed no threat. Her competitive desire to complete the mission was instantly ignited, and she charged forward with her blade raised.
As the two swordsmen traded blows, Xin Yu found another opportunity. Gathering her breath, she instantly vanished into the thickets.
Li Qiao cursed inwardly. With a twist of his body, he escaped from beneath Jiang Xin'er’s blade. Avoiding the muddy shallows, he leapt up with his saber, poised like a fully drawn bow.
However, he had not charged far when the sound of heavy footsteps followed closely. The sound was so dull and powerful that one couldn't help but doubt if this was a woman trained in saber techniques, but rather an eight-foot-tall brute wielding two massive hammers.
Li Qiao did not look back. He exerted force through his toes, made a sharp turn, changed direction, and took a shortcut to intercept Xin Yu. The oppressive footsteps behind him indeed paused, falling far behind in an instant, but they caught up again a moment later, possessing a relentless persistence that was extremely troublesome.
The chase, which had been nearing its conclusion, had its rhythm disrupted by the intruder. The situation had changed in an instant, and the outcome was now unpredictable.
Three shadows flew out of the reed marsh one after another, tapping lightly across the small shoals by the lake. One was swift, one was fierce, and one was nimble—exactly like a peregrine falcon and a mountain eagle chasing a fleeing hare.
From here, following the shore of Lixin Lake all the way south, one could see the stone boat that had been crowded with spectators yesterday.
A hundred paces from the stone boat was a divine path paved with massive stone bricks, called Mingde Avenue.
The people of Jiugao no longer remembered why this avenue was named "Mingde," only that it stretched from the east all the way west into a stone pagoda on the eastern side of the city. The pagoda had long since collapsed into ruins and was generally ignored; because it was slightly higher than the surrounding houses, it had become a meeting place for travelers and merchant caravans entering and exiting the city gates. Mingde Avenue itself had not been trodden upon for a long time. Yesterday, it had been covered by spectators and vendors, but today the crowds had moved to the northern lake to enjoy the moon on boats. It was deserted once more, leaving only a few broken stools and a ground covered in varying depths of wheel ruts.
An avenue where tens of thousands once made pilgrimages to worship gods had, after several centuries, become a temporary place of business for peddlers and porters. Hitching posts for horses were nailed into square stone bricks that had once cost the lives of countless laborers to transport. Salted fish and fishing nets hung upon grand, solemnly carved divine statues. The loftiness and inviolability of the gods had been dissolved here into a power as fine as dust, something one could pick up by bending down or see with every turn of the heel.
With the fading of ancient legends, few today knew that this avenue was far longer than it appeared. It did not end at the lakeshore but extended eastward to a certain point in the center of the lake. Ever since the overflowing waterways had merged to form Lixin Lake, the original end of the divine path had been entirely submerged. No one knew if that end led to a tomb or a temple; only the towering stone statues and pillars on either side could still be glimpsed in the shallow waters. And the giant trees that once blotted out the sun along the path had now all withered under the soaking of the lake water, leaving only countless dead branches poking halfway out of the surface. From a distance, they looked like the hands of drowning giants reaching out for help.
Unknowingly, the three chasing figures had arrived here. The three of them moved through the dead branches one after another, leaping upon the stone statues half-submerged in the water, looking from afar as if they were walking upon the waves.
Only upon closer inspection could one see that the figure fleeing in the lead was losing her strength. The splashes she made when rising and falling were much more obvious than those of the two behind her. She could only try to shake off her pursuers by constantly shifting directions.
Even so, the distance between the three was shrinking. Xin Yu knew that if this continued, she would either be captured or killed. As her thoughts raced, her body suddenly twisted half a turn, and she actually lunged toward the spot where the youth was about to land.
Li Qiao was startled, but he quickly realized she was empty-handed and had no intention of attacking. He instantly grasped her intent. He turned to look at the murderous, red-clothed woman following closely behind. Before he could shout anything, Jiang Xin'er’s domineering and fierce long saber instantly carved a wave across the lake. Even the aquatic weeds in the lake were blasted out. He felt a jolt beneath his feet; looking down, he found that the stone statue he stood upon had cracked and was subsequently shattering, sinking into the depths of the lake.
He hurriedly shifted his position, barely landing on a piece of dead wood not far away. Half of his trouser leg was soaked by the lake water.
Xin Yu glanced back at him, her eyes filled with unconcealed schadenfreude. She turned and moved toward his direction again. Having missed her strike, Jiang Xin'er did not pause for a breath; seeing this, she indeed followed with her blade raised.
This fierce woman actually used a double-handed saber. The long saber was already domineering, and with both hands gripping it, her posture was simply one of "slaying gods if gods block, slaying demons if demons block." Even if the Sect Master of the Heavenly Pillar Sect, who practiced internal cultivation, were present, she would dare to charge up and hack at him for a hundred rounds.
But here on the lake, where nimbleness and balance were required, such a reckless saber style not only failed to catch the cunning enemy but also endangered her own ally.
The youth, having lost his footing, glared at her, his voice becoming more irritable than ever before.
"Stop following me!"
"Who’s following you?! This was my target to begin with! You popped out of nowhere and want to snatch her from me!" Jiang Xin'er flashed past him, her foot crushing that piece of dead wood. She left behind a disdainful remark: "If you’re physically weak, don't force yourself."
Li Qiao remained silent, clearly not wanting to waste his breath on a meaningless argument.
He narrowed his eyes, finding the moment her back was exposed. Just before the dead wood beneath his feet completely shattered, he rose into the air and stepped squarely onto her back.
Jiang Xin'er, having just caused destruction and feeling high-spirited, was caught off guard and used as a stepping stone. She was instantly enraged. With a "Wrap-around Head and Neck" move, she intended to shave him down from a log into a chopstick.
However, though her strength was domineering, her movement technique was always slightly inferior. The long saber grazed the youth’s temple; in the next moment, he had borrowed her momentum to fly ten paces away.
After that chaotic exchange, almost all the nearby landing spots had been destroyed, but he didn't need any more. Not far away, the shattered wood that had just been sent flying was scattered in the lake, winding toward the direction Xin Yu was fleeing under the moonlight. To this young swordsman, it already counted as a "floating bridge."
Seeing the red-clothed woman fall behind again, Xin Yu, busy fleeing for her life, felt the urge to instigate further. She added fuel to the fire with a sigh.
"I didn't know that the dogs raised by the Qiu family liked to stay behind and eat dust."
The woman holding the long saber lost her composure even more upon hearing this. Her next move used ten-tenths of her power. With one strike, she actually raised a giant wave over a man’s height on the smooth lake surface.
The wall of water was like a barrier rising out of nowhere, slamming hard toward the black-clad youth ahead. He swung his saber to break through the wall of water facing him. By the time the mist from the crashing wave dissipated, the two figures in the heat of the chase were already a hundred paces away.
Tonight’s situation was far more complex than he had imagined. It was no way to continue this entanglement. The priority was to lead the person into a narrow or enclosed space; that way, her retreat could be cut off, and an opportunity found to subdue her in one blow. Otherwise, dragging it out would only lead to more trouble. No one knew if there were a fourth or fifth person lurking in the night...
Li Qiao’s mind raced, calculating how to snatch the person from beneath that woman’s blade. Suddenly, in the lake water before him that had not yet returned to calm, a fourth shadow was actually reflected.
The shadow seemed far from him, but the voice was terrifyingly close.
"First time meeting, a pleasure, a pleasure. My name is..."
The shadow’s voice stopped abruptly, for in the next moment, the rusty blade had already sliced through the night, hacking the reflection of moonlight beneath his feet into fragments.
For this strike, Li Qiao used ninety percent of his power.
And the reason he chose to strike was not because of what the other party said, but because of what he felt.
His body told him that the person speaking carried a killing intent directed straight at him. That killing intent was different from the exasperation of the Jade Flute; it was subtle and cold, as long and continuous as fine rain. Even if the person spoke the most tender and sweet words in the world, it would make one’s hair stand on end and one’s blood freeze.
When top-tier experts clash, victory, defeat, life, and death are decided in an instant. Any information revealed unintentionally could become a flaw for the opponent to exploit. Therefore, the one who talked too much always died faster.
He had always understood the principle of striking first. However, this time...
Li Qiao stood with his saber raised, staring breathlessly at a small piece of cloth with fine threads hanging from the tip of his blade.
He had used almost all his strength in that strike, yet he had only managed to tear a corner of the opponent’s clothing.
He knew that tonight, he was perhaps destined not to catch Xin Yu.
"I greeted you; why didn't you wait for me to finish speaking?"
The unfamiliar voice rang out behind him again, so close he could almost smell the strange odor from the speaker’s mouth.
Li Qiao still did not speak, swinging his saber back to attack.
This time, he didn't even touch the corner of the opponent’s clothes. The shadow that had appeared out of nowhere had already shifted to his other side, as quiet as if it had never moved at all.
Li Qiao shifted his eyes, finally casting his gaze upon the opponent.
It was a young man wearing a short bamboo hat (*li*), clad in a baggy, shapeless overgarment, with tattered straw sandals on his feet. A toe poked out from a hole in the straw sandal, wiggling somewhat casually. The man had one foot planted in front and the other propped behind, appearing to be squatting out of thin air upon the lake surface, strangely reminiscent of the legendary river gods who always caused trouble in secret due to their ugliness.
The man did not launch an attack immediately but waited until Li Qiao turned his head to look at him before starting his move.
He reached out five bony fingers to touch the sole of his foot, then leapt up, soaring from his landing spot. Simultaneously, something was pulled out from the lake water beneath those feet.
The moonlight seemed to turn from soft to brilliant in this instant. Li Qiao narrowed his eyes, finally seeing clearly the thing that had emerged from the water.
It was a saber.
A saber with its point facing downward and no scabbard. The fuller was as thin as a silver thread, the blade as bright as snow, and the edge as sharp as a crescent moon. The moment it left the water, moisture seemed to condense into frost upon it, and the air around it became stagnant, as if it could be sliced into pieces like tofu at any moment.
It turned out that from the beginning, the points where the opponent had landed and borrowed momentum were neither stone statues nor driftwood in the water, but the pommel of this saber.
He and the saber had merged into one. The saber had become an extension of his body; just now it was his "leg," and now it had become his "hand."
And this "hand" was boring toward his heart, ribs, back of the knees, and joints with the momentum of splitting bamboo. As it swept past, it was like a monstrous python turning over; though it was made of metal, it contained a hidden feminine aura, pushing the bone-piercing cold of the blade and the shifting, treacherous footwork to their absolute limits.
Griping the rusty saber in his left hand, Li Qiao mobilized all his strength to respond.
His saber technique was very special—almost all offense and no defense. When ordinary enemies faced it for the first time, even if they could parry a few moves, they would suffer some losses because their momentum was suppressed and their rhythm disrupted. Lu Zican was an example.
But the one before him seemed completely unconcerned by his style. No matter how he struck, the opponent could always neutralize it with various strange moves, and even then, he did not give up on talking to him.
"Are you deaf? Or a mute? Strange, the Master clearly said you were a normal person..."
Halfway through his sentence, the somewhat oversized short hat on his head slid down, covering his eyes. He actually had the leisure to free a hand to adjust the hat, and the saber he had switched hands with did not slow down in the slightest.
Unlike the youth who always thought of hiding in the darkness, this swordsman in the short hat seemed not to care at all if his face was seen. He only used those somewhat dull, wooden eyes to stare fixedly at his opponent, not wanting to miss a single shred of fear or evasion in the other’s eyes.
"Too slow, too slow. Faster! Faster! You should be able to go even faster!"
The opponent’s voice was excited, but the saber in his hand was calm. Every strike that fell was as precise as if it had been calculated. The way he made his moves was like weaving an invisible net—fine and dense, leaving no way to escape—slowly and steadily strangling the struggling opponent within the net.
The intervals between the sounds of metal clashing became shorter and shorter. The sparks flying from the collision of lethal moves flickered in the dark night, shredding the moonlight that soaked the surroundings.
After another perfectly timed clash of blades, the strange feeling in Li Qiao’s heart grew even stronger.
Aside from his Master, he had never seen such a fast blade in a second person.
But that was not what concerned him most.
After a succession of clashes, he quickly realized one thing: the opponent’s saber technique seemed ordinary and formulaic, but upon careful scrutiny, it actually connected in every way with the set of techniques he currently relied upon. It was as if he were swinging his blade against a mirror; the more fierce the moves and the more frequent the changes, the more he pushed himself to the edge of exhaustion.
Furthermore, although the opponent was very familiar with his saber technique, he was not in a hurry to kill him. And those skilled at taking lives would mostly avoid the edge and attack the soft spots. Knowing full well that he was a left-handed swordsman, the opponent still bit at his left side with every move, as if intentionally wanting to see how he would respond with his left hand.
The opponent was testing and probing his strength.
Had he seen this person before? Or had he fought him? When had he made such an enemy without knowing it? Most importantly, why was the opponent so familiar with his saber technique? Could it be...
Countless questions flashed through his heart. In a moment of distraction, a cold sensation hit his forearm. Half of Li Qiao’s sleeve was cut off, hanging on a piece of dead wood beneath his feet. The opponent did not intend to give him a chance to breathe; a lethal move followed immediately. He only just had time to hold his saber horizontally to block. The heavy blow, accompanied by a piercing screech, flipped him into the air. He felt his left hand grow light; looking down the next moment, he discovered that the rusty saber in his hand had been snapped in half.
Over the past few years, he had broken countless famous sabers and swords, but he had never personally experienced this feeling.
The only thing he could entrust his life to was the saber in his hand. If the saber broke, who could he rely on?
Laughter was mixed in the wind, sounding like the whispers of a water ghost.
"To think your saber is as useless as you are."
In the next moment, the sound of a blade breaking through the air whistled from behind. The youth who had lost his weapon could only dodge with all his might, trying to protect his vitals with his arms. At the last moment, however, the opponent flipped his wrist. With a touch of malicious playfulness, he switched the edge for the back of the blade and struck hard against the back of the youth’s neck, sending him flying from the dead wood he had landed on.
The massive impact instantly turned his vision black. A ringing sound erupted in his ears, and Li Qiao felt himself falling into a brief and fatal dizziness.
He shouldn't have made such a mistake, he really shouldn't have...
"Wrong, wrong again. Do it again."
A woman’s somewhat distant voice came intermittently from the depths of his memory.
In a daze, he returned to that cave seven years ago.
The sun was about to set. The middle-aged woman sitting cross-legged at the cave entrance was gnawing on a chicken bone while lazily "pointing out the world."
"Wrong, do it again. Those just now don't count; do it another hundred times. If you master this one move, ninety-nine percent of the swordsmen in this world will be no match for you..."
He stood there, drenched in sweat, his left hand so sore he could barely lift it. After a long time, he propped the rusty saber in his hand against the ground and questioned her in a voice he had adjusted to suppress his emotion.
"This move of yours doesn't even have a name. Is it really any good?"
"Who says it doesn't have a name? This move is called... it's called..." The woman spat out a chicken bone and thought hard for a long time before squeezing out a sentence: "...It's called 'The First Slash'!"
Today it was the First Slash, tomorrow the Second Slash, the day after the Third Slash.
After slashing, there was splitting; after splitting, there was hacking. A woodcutter gathering fuel in the wild mountains would be a better teacher than her.
He gritted his teeth and remained silent.
He had always been very good at enduring. Over the past few days, rather than learning martial arts, he was learning how to endure the other’s various nonsense and ramblings.
After a moment, he finally spoke again, his voice having returned to calm.
"What if I encounter a swordsman who can break this move?"
The woman, who had let out a loud burp, wiped her mouth and spoke righteously.
"Then it's not that my saber technique is no good; it's that *you* are no good."
The youth’s gaze fell upon the empty half-sleeve on one side of her body; clearly, he felt her words were not very convincing.
"Then I won't learn your saber technique. I only want to learn the skill of escaping with my life."
The woman at the cave entrance shifted her posture to look at him, her voice carrying a hint of schadenfreude.
"I see you already have quite a bit of experience in the skill of escaping."
He lowered his head and didn't speak, hating the lazy way the woman watched the spectacle without concern.
After an unknown amount of time, the woman finally grew tired of teasing him and spoke deeply.
"If the day truly comes when you encounter such a person, remember one sentence."
He finally raised his head.
"What sentence?"
The woman turned her head from the twilight. The setting sun sank slowly behind her, and her figure became increasingly blurred because of it.
She seemed to say something to him, but the voice echoing between the stone walls quickly turned into a buzzing drone in his head.
Li Qiao shook his head, his vision focusing on the swaying lake water before him.
Perhaps because of the swordsman’s strike just now, or perhaps because the remnants of the "Clear Wind Powder" were stirring within his body, he could no longer hear or remember the woman’s subsequent words...
His body flew out uncontrollably. Dead branches, broken by the impact, crackled against his back. The night wind whipped his hem like a piece of wrinkled night. The shadow of the round-faced swordsman approaching blotted out the starlight. In the next moment, he fell into the pitch-black lake water filled with dead trees.
*Master, this day has finally come.*
The originally silent lake surface erupted in snow-white waves, as if a hole had been torn in a pitch-black blanket. The lake water churned, and the shattered wood on the surface rose and fell with it, only slowly calming down after a good while.
On the black water, the round-faced swordsman holding his weapon still stood in his original place.
He seemed to be waiting for the youth to poke his head out of the water, but after waiting for a long time, there was still no movement on the lake. He finally began to show a look of annoyance, muttering to himself while picking at his fingers.
"Only a few moves, and it's over already? Not satisfying, not satisfying at all..."
In the distance, the sounds of fighting drifted over. Xin Yu, engaged with the red-clothed woman, was already at a disadvantage and looked as if she were about to be captured.
"I am indeed very unsatisfied, but I have to go." Ren Xiaohan finally stood up, glancing at the other battlefield, then looking down at the water beneath his feet. "You wouldn't just die like that, would you? The Master said I can't kill you yet."
A look of slight confusion appeared on his face. Finally, after one last look around, he actually left as quickly as a thief.
The new short hat, which was a bit too big for his head, bobbed up and down with every step until it vanished into the night along with its owner.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 梭子船 | Shuttle boat | Small, fast, shuttle-shaped skiffs used for quick transport on the lake. |
| 铭德大道 | Mingde Avenue | An ancient divine path in Jiugao, now partially submerged and used by commoners. |
| 一斩 | The First Slash | A simple but powerful saber technique taught to Li Qiao by his master. |
| 壬小寒 | Ren Xiaohan | A mysterious, round-faced swordsman working for Ding Miao. |
| 短笠 | Short hat / Li | A type of bamboo or straw hat. |
| 刀樋 | Fuller | The groove on the side of a blade, often called a "blood groove." |
