Shouqi Street in the south of the city, the back alley of Tingfeng Hall.
With half the martial world rushing off to the Sword Appreciation Assembly, Tang Shenyan, the hall’s manager, suddenly found himself with a surplus of leisure. Seeing as no customers were visiting for business, he simply set up a tea table and a rattan chair under the shade of the old locust tree by the back door. There he sat, rolling a pair of walnuts in his palm while flipping through a leisure book, looking no different from any other idle old man found in the streets and alleys of the city’s southern district.
Aside from the volume in his hand, several other books lay spread across the tea table. Their covers were aged, faintly tinged with mold; the spines were fraying, and the edges showed clear signs of silverfish damage, suggesting the book dealer who handled them was a careless sort. However, the manager flipping through the pages clearly didn't mind. His entire focus was captured by the ink and paper. His eyes, usually half-lidded as if he couldn't quite wake up, now held a spirited brilliance. Even his tea mug, which rarely left his hand, sat untouched more often than not.
His newly made "friend from the streets," though often dim-witted and prone to rambling incoherently, was remarkably diligent when it came to sourcing books and ink. No matter how obscure the titles on Tang’s list were, they would invariably appear before him within two or three days.
Perhaps one day he truly ought to pay a personal visit to that Lady Feng of Daoba Alley in the east of the city, to see if the business of an obscure bookstore was as lucrative as the rumors suggested. If it were so, he might consider closing this tea hall in a few years to contentedly become a small worm nesting among bamboo slips and paper—a pleasant alternative for his later years.
He flipped through two or three volumes in one breath as the sun climbed higher above the treetops. Tang Shenyan finally set down the last scroll, rubbed his aching eyes, and sighed as he settled back into the creaking rattan chair.
Though the scrolls had been returned to the table, his gaze remained glued to a neatly arranged string of signatures at the end of a volume.
The names were not particularly famous, nor was there anything improper about them. Usually, if a literary collection contained works by multiple authors, they wouldn't be listed individually at the end of each section; instead, only the editor’s name would be noted. Yet, this commentator had chosen to painstakingly list every name at the end, placing his own name last.
That long list of names revealed a certain stubbornness in the commentator, as well as a profound humility.
So many years had passed, yet that person still hadn't changed his habits when compiling and annotating books. Tang, meanwhile, had long since forgotten the last time he had picked up a brush to write with such flourish. He had spent too long in that cramped accounting room; his brush now only produced endless fragments of martial world gossip and secrets that could never be known to outsiders.
Furthermore, upon reflection, it had been six or seven years since he had properly read a book from that person’s hand. He wondered if the other man would give a light sneer if he knew of Tang’s current situation, perhaps splashing a faceful of harsh liquor from a seasoned wooden ladle before boisterously roasting meat and brewing soup to invite him for a talk until dawn.
A rustle of wings came from among the branches, and a few bird cries pulled him from his memories.
Tang Shenyan looked up at the dense canopy above, where a nimble figure was looking back at him.
In the height of summer, birds were at their most active. Swallows nesting before his hall came and went; he had long since grown used to it.
Except today, this bird...
Tang Shenyan’s nose itched. He leaned forward and let out a heavy sneeze. When he opened his eyes again, the bird on the branch had fluttered away, and a person was standing just a few paces in front of him, startling him so much he nearly fell out of his chair.
"When did you get here? Why didn't you make a sound?"
Li Qiao took a few steps forward, moving from the shadows of the tree into the sunlight.
"I arrived half a quarter-hour ago."
Tang Shenyan composed himself and resumed rolling the walnuts.
"Instead of following Qin Jiuye around, what are you doing here at my place?"
The youth did not answer. He merely glanced at the medium-height courtyard wall behind Tang.
"Is she not here with you?"
Tang Shenyan looked baffled. "Isn't she with you? Why would she be here?"
Li Qiao stood quietly and listened for a moment. Indeed, he could hear no other sounds from within the walls. He turned to leave as silently as he had arrived.
He had taken a few steps when, for some reason, he stopped. After a moment's pause, he turned back.
"Has Manager Tang known my elder sister for many years?"
"What if I have?" Tang Shenyan looked wary, clearly recalling some unpleasant past experiences. "We only have a relationship of sharing tea. If you're here to borrow money, I suggest you drop the idea immediately."
The youth’s focus was clearly elsewhere. After a pause, he spoke thoughtfully.
"Since you have known her for many years, you must understand her very well."
Having presided over Tingfeng Hall for so long, Tang Shenyan—despite his stubborn, slovenly, and somewhat cowardly temperament—had seen much of the world's ways. He felt he could read the words "requesting a favor" written in large letters across the youth's face.
Crossing his legs and waving a large cattail fan, he leaned back lazily in his broken rattan chair, instinctively putting on airs.
"My Tingfeng Hall is a place of business, after all. Never mind listening to a few words; even if you've come for idle gossip, you must pay for the tea."
A *clink* sounded.
Tang Shenyan looked down and saw a gold ingot the size of a fingernail, shimmering as it wedged into a crack in his battered tea table.
This was not something that stingy manager Qin Jiuye could afford. One couldn't find a single decent piece of silver in her Guoran Clinic, let alone such an attractive gold ingot.
"Is this enough to buy a stick of incense's worth of Manager Tang's time?"
Tang Shenyan’s eyes widened. "Does she know you're this wealthy?"
The youth frowned, his face showing a hint of impatience. "If you are unwilling, I will go find Situ Jinbao."
As the youth reached out to take back the half-piece of gold, Tang Shenyan scrambled up from his chair, covering the ingot with both hands and stuffing it into his sleeve.
"What could that silly boy Jinbao know? If you want to inquire about something, you have to ask me. Speak—what do you want to know?"
Li Qiao was silent for a moment before slowly uttering three words.
"Qin Jiuye."
"What about Qin Jiuye?"
"She has been... strange lately."
"Strange in what way?"
The youth fell into deep thought, recounting as he remembered. "She keeps avoiding me. She is excessively polite to me, and she no longer orders me around as casually as she used to."
Tang Shenyan breathed on the walnuts in his hand and polished them with his sleeve.
"What's strange about that? Perhaps her conscience finally kicked in, and she feels she treated you too harshly before and wants to make amends. More likely, she's afraid you'll quit. After all, her business isn't very profitable, and in all these years, she hasn't managed to recruit any laborers besides Jinbao."
Tang Shenyan’s words were meant to remind the "laborer" before him that there was no need to worry over his "slave driver," but the youth’s concern was clearly not there.
"It would be one thing if she were only avoiding me, but she has been getting very close to a stranger she only met yesterday, even sitting at the same table for a meal. I did not get along with that man, and she seemed to be angry with me because of it."
Tang Shenyan waved his hand, still acting nonchalant. "That's not strange either. Perhaps that man comes from a wealthy background, and she wants to build a connection for future business. In the end, it's all about money."
"But when I gave her money, she was actually unhappy."
Tang Shenyan’s movements froze. His expression instantly sharpened into one of gravity.
"That... is indeed a bit strange."
Grabbing a handful of melon seeds from the table, Tang Shenyan and the youth both fell into contemplation. For a while, the only sound in the back alley was the rhythmic cracking of seeds.
After a long time, Tang Shenyan suddenly stopped and slapped his thigh.
"I've got it."
The youth looked up quickly, his gaze intense.
Tang Shenyan spat out a seed shell and took a long moment to compose himself before whispering, "Could this be the legendary... tactic of 'playing hard to get'?"
"Playing hard to get?" Li Qiao slowly tasted the four words on his tongue, seemingly finding the flavor acceptable. He pressed further, "What kind of tactic is that? Explain it in detail."
"For example, if she originally wanted to go east, but you say 'go east,' she insists on going west. Or if she originally wanted this money, but as soon as you offer it, she refuses. Or perhaps... she originally liked you, but the closer you get, the further she retreats, leading you to chase her."
Something lit up deep within the youth's eyes. "I see."
However, a moment later, Tang Shenyan slumped back into his chair and added casually, "Of course, it's also possible she's just grown weary of you."
The youth's expression turned cold instantly. "We have only been together for three months. How could she be weary?"
"Weariness comes sooner or later; it's bound to happen." Tang Shenyan grew more animated, adopting the air of an experienced elder giving earnest advice. "Relationships between people are prone to weariness. Friends grow weary, lovers grow weary, masters and disciples grow weary, even sovereigns and ministers grow weary. As the saying goes, there is no banquet that does not end. Unless you are family, bound by unbreakable ties and blood, you will eventually part ways due to weariness."
A layer of frost seemed to settle over the youth's features, and his voice carried a hint of chill. "We *are* family."
Bathed in the sunlight, Tang Shenyan noticed nothing. With his eyes half-closed, he countered, "Is that truly so? Then why has she never called you 'Little Brother' in private? And when she talks about that courtyard she dreams of, why has she never mentioned where she would put you?"
Li Qiao fell silent.
Seeing this, Tang Shenyan continued leisurely, "Your manager hasn't said it explicitly, but old Tang isn't blind. I can see you aren't real siblings. Since you aren't related by blood or bond, you're bound to go your separate ways when the time comes. A man of the martial world like you, Brother Li, should have made peace with such things long ago."
"I don't need you to teach me such logic." The youth's tone shifted, carrying an inexplicable certainty. "If I cannot be her family, then no one else can either."
Tang Shenyan opened his eyes and looked at him strangely. "Why wouldn't anyone else do? Don't you know that men and women can talk of marriage?"
Marriage? Marry whom? Marry into the Qiu family? Or that man named Ding?
Li Qiao's expression changed. His tightly pressed lips revealed a sharpness that didn't match his youthful face.
Tang Shenyan quickly caught something from that face, his expression turning knowing. "So, you don't just want to be her younger brother."
His words were light, yet they acted like a sharp needle, instantly piercing the skin the youth used to wrap his dark inner thoughts and gloss over his excuses. His true feelings spilled out like the cool lake water from the night before, exposed under the sun, threatening to become an uncontrollable flood.
The air went still. After a long silence, Li Qiao's voice rose again.
"Is it not allowed?"
Tang Shenyan closed his eyes again and took a sip from his chipped tea cup.
"How do you compare to the Governor? How do you compare to the Second Young Master of the Qiu family? How do you compare to the other fine young gentlemen from respectable families in this city of Jiugao? If you can't figure that out, you won't win this game."
Li Qiao gave a light huff of disdain. "I am naturally better than them."
Tang Shenyan gave him an amused look and shook his head deeply. "In terms of martial arts, you might indeed be stronger. But marriage has never been about the skill of dancing with blades and spears."
"Then what is it about?"
"It's about family background, character, and learning. It's about whether the social statuses match and the horoscopes align. It's about parents and relatives, and the blessings of ancestors." Tang Shenyan ticked them off on his fingers, rambling on. "In short, both parties must know each other's roots thoroughly and be completely honest with one another. Only then is it possible to step over the same threshold, sleep in the same bed, and walk through life hand-in-hand."
But he had none of those things. He only had secrets. Filthy secrets.
The youth fell silent once more.
The hot wind blew, and the shadows of the leaves danced across his face along with spots of light, making his expression unreadable.
After a long time, he spoke again. "But everyone has secrets. I don't believe those living under the same roof are all as transparent as you say."
Tang Shenyan nodded, not intending to argue. "Precisely because of that, those who can accept each other's secrets are considered true family. Or, if they can provide what the other needs, that is another way to maintain a relationship. However..."
Before he could finish, the youth interrupted urgently, "However what?"
"However, the things in this relationship of supply and demand must be things that others cannot give—things only you can provide." Tang Shenyan lowered his voice, speaking meaningfully. "And these things must be exactly what she wants and loves most."
What was there that they couldn't do, but he could?
"I understand."
The youth didn't speak for a long time. When he did, his voice carried the momentum of a man on a mission.
Tang Shenyan was taken aback. Feeling that the response was a bit too fast, his heart began to drum with unease. He couldn't help but ask, "What do you understand?"
The youth glanced at him and slowly stood up.
"She entered the martial world this time because she wanted to investigate the matter of the secret formula, did she not? What Qiu Ling cannot do, I will do. What he can do but is unwilling to do, I will also do. I will eliminate the nuisances blocking the path one by one, then bind the person who knows the secret and deliver them to her. That way, she will surely be happy."
The drumming in Tang Shenyan's heart stopped abruptly. He stood frozen for a long while before pulling the half-ingot of gold from his sleeve and holding it out.
"You'd better take this gold back. Don't tell anyone you came to my Tingfeng Hall, and definitely don't say it was old Tang who gave you this advice."
The youth, of course, did not take it. He brushed off his sleeves, ready to leave.
"Manager Tang should keep it for himself. Treat it as if I never came today."
Before he could finish, he saw Tang Shenyan stroking the strangely shaped gold ingot, saying as if casually, "This Golden Lotus Seed is truly exquisite in craftsmanship. Even if it's been snapped in half and rubbed by palm strength, it still looks lovely."
The youth whipped his head around, the light in his eyes turning cold in an instant.
"Is Manager Tang getting on in years? Is your eyesight failing? This is just an ordinary half-piece of gold."
The martial world storyteller nestled in the rattan chair seemed not to notice the murderous intent in the youth's eyes. He continued to lounge comfortably with his eyes half-closed under the sun, muttering to himself.
"Since it's gold, how can it be called 'ordinary'? Men die for wealth, birds die for food—to say nothing of matters of life and death. Brother Li, do not underestimate the human heart or overestimate yourself. In the end, you might not only bring disaster upon yourself but also drag down those around you."
Tang Shenyan did not look at the youth as he spoke, yet he could feel the chill of the other's gaze lingering on him.
After a moment, Li Qiao's voice finally sounded again.
"I don't understand what you're talking about."
His words didn't mean he truly didn't understand; they were a warning to the other to play dumb at the appropriate time.
After all, once certain things were exposed, there would be no room for turning back.
Yet, for some reason, the tea hall manager—who usually kept a measure of shrewdness within his pedantry—seemed to have become possessed today. He refused to let the matter drop and continued, swaying his head.
"Brother Li is young, but you've been in the martial world for many years. You must have heard of the Southern Bandit, Qi Renying. This man was once a great thief on the Feng River, dealing with both the righteous and the wicked, robbing the rich to help the poor. In his dozen or so years in the martial world, he offended many. After robbing the Jade Manor’s tribute ship, he finally decided to wash his hands of it all and retire to the mountains. He lived under an assumed name in the wild lands of the South Sea for many years, but in the end, because he missed his home, he revealed himself by drinking a bowl of green-fish congee at a stall, which ultimately led to his death. I've said my piece; these are just old stories, so I won't charge you extra for the tea."
A man who didn't seem to value his own head still had the mind to haggle over a few copper coins for tea.
Li Qiao stared coldly at the old manager in his patched clothes. He could almost hear the sound of killing intent surging through his veins.
He had always been a cautious person. In the past, if someone had tested his true identity like this to his face, he would have drawn his blade without hesitation to pull the grass out by the roots.
But just yesterday, he had let that child playing with the wooden kite by the river go.
He really shouldn't be like this. He thought he was just avoiding trouble.
Not the trouble of disposing of a body, but the trouble of facing *her*.
Her gaze, her expression, even the scent on her body—they all seemed to have a physical form, pressing down on his left hand, keeping his blade in its sheath.
But what was the use? The things he had done in the past were enough to make her loathe him a thousand times over.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke without emotion. "Why are you telling me this?"
"For the same reason you came to find me today." Tang Shenyan finally opened his eyes, which were already somewhat clouded with age, yet the light within them remained bright. "I hear the most popular dock by Lixin Lake is the Huangniwan Dock. If you happen to run into an old acquaintance, give them my regards. Tell her that some of the salted duck eggs she pickled in my yard are still left, and I've finished them all for her."
After a long time, the uncontrollable killing intent finally faded from the youth's eyes.
His clenched left hand slowly relaxed. He reached his right hand into his robe, took something out, and placed it on the battered tea table.
"The lotuses are blooming well this season. Manager Tang shouldn't always stay cooped up in one place; you should go out for a walk."
With that, Li Qiao turned and left.
This time, he walked quickly. By the time Tang Shenyan looked up again, his figure had vanished from the back alley.
Tang Shenyan sighed softly. When his gaze fell upon the object on the table, he froze.
It was a paper lotus folded from yellow hemp paper. Three words were faintly visible through the thin paper.
He stared at the paper lotus for a while, then quickly tossed it into the charcoal brazier used for roasting tea. The hemp paper was scorched by the fire, quickly turning half-black, looking as if it would soon turn to ash. But in the next moment, the teapot atop the brazier began to hiss and sputter. Boiling tea spilled from the lid, instantly dousing the charcoal fire.
He was startled and instinctively reached for the teapot, forgetting to use a cloth. He was scalded and let out a cry of pain, knocking the teapot and the brazier to the ground together.
Green smoke rose and tea splashed everywhere. Tang Shenyan cursed under his breath as he scrambled to save the scrolls spread out on the table.
The books, half-soaked by the tea, dripped water. As the steaming tea spread across the floor, Tang Shenyan stared at the water stain creeping across a book cover. His movements gradually slowed, and he suddenly laughed.
It wasn't a light laugh, but one filled with sentiment.
He gave up on checking the books and simply tossed them back onto the table. He lay back in his rattan chair and looked up at the empty branches above.
Of all the birds that could land there, it had to be a cuckoo.
And if it had to be a cuckoo, it had to cry twice right in front of him.
"Better to return... better to return."
Tang Shenyan sighed. His face regained its usual composed manager's expression. He relit the charcoal brazier and refilled the teapot.
After an unknown amount of time, the sound of a hummed tune drifted intermittently from the back alley of Tingfeng Hall. Neighbors passing by were momentarily surprised.
Tingfeng Hall had no business, yet the manager wasn't worried; he even had the heart to hum a tune. He truly knew no sorrow.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
--- | --- | ---
听风堂 | Tingfeng Hall | "Listening Wind Hall," Tang Shenyan's tea house/information hub.
唐慎言 | Tang Shenyan | The manager of Tingfeng Hall.
刀把巷子 | Daoba Alley | "Knife Handle Alley."
风娘子 | Lady Feng | A bookstore owner mentioned by Tang Shenyan.
金莲子 | Golden Lotus Seed | A specific, high-quality gold ingot/token, likely linked to a specific organization or status.
齐人英 | Qi Renying | A legendary bandit mentioned in Tang Shenyan's warning.
不如归去 | Better to return | The literal meaning of the cuckoo's cry in Chinese literary tradition.
