Luo He tipped his completely empty wineskin, looking toward the end of the small path in the valley for the seventeenth time since waking.
The lethargy of an unsatisfied wine craving washed over him. Just as he was about to look away, two figures finally emerged slowly through the bluish morning mist.
He forced his eyelids open, intending to loudly complain about their tardiness, but the words died in his throat.
He watched as the young woman gently held the man's hand, stepping through the pear trees laden with pinkish-white blossoms, smiling as they walked into the morning light.
They wore the simplest of clothes, looking like the most ordinary pair of travelers in the world.
The fumes of years of accumulated alcohol seemed to ferment within him at that moment. Overcome by a sense of intoxication, he drifted into memories of the past. Long, long ago, he too had accompanied those close to him, walking out of these mountains and returning home along this very path, step by step.
Xiao Nanhui spotted Luo He dazing atop a stack of firewood. She was about to raise the wine in her hand to call out to him, but he suddenly stood up and stumbled away.
She found it strange but did not pursue him.
Falling blossoms were like snow, a tender feeling settling in her heart. In such a beautiful moment, she was unwilling to leave the side of the person next to her for even a single step.
It turned out that when a person reaches the pinnacle of happiness, they think of death.
Only death can freeze everything in place; then they would not have to experience the unknowns of aging, sickness, bitterness, or parting. They could stay forever on this meadow where flowers rained down.
A valley breeze drifted by, bringing a waft of floral fragrance.
Xiao Nanhui sneezed, only then realizing they had reached the end of the path.
She still held his hand, reluctant to let go, and began searching for a topic of conversation.
"So, why exactly did you run out barefoot?"
It wasn't a particularly good conversation starter, yet he seriously lowered his head to inspect the mud and grass clinging to his ankles.
"I was in a hurry when I woke up and forgot my shoes and socks."
Seeing how solemn his answer was, she felt like laughing but held it back, feigning doubt.
"You weren't like this before. I always felt nothing could make you so hurried."
She didn't laugh, but he did. However, his expression held little ease or joy.
"I wasn't born this way. In the past, I was often in a rush. It was only later that I understood—no matter how panicked or hurried you appear, those who will not wait for you will never wait."
She had seen this look before and knew he was remembering something from his past. The questions she hadn't intended to probe now began to stir restlessly.
"I heard the villagers mention that this place was once called Zhongli. Isn't that your mother's..."
She stopped herself there.
Previously, in the carriage to Huozhou, he had intentionally omitted this part. Perhaps she really shouldn't ask.
But before she could decide how to end the conversation, he spoke first.
"She and her clansmen did indeed live here, though it wasn't their original home. The surname Zhongli comes from the place name, but my maternal family's original surname was Hu. They were once one of the largest families in Huozhou."
He paused for a moment, looking at her quietly.
"But I carry the shadow of another bloodline within me. I was very young then, and my mother spoke little of it, refusing to reveal the true reason for the clan's extermination. But after everything you and I have been through, even without absolute certainty or evidence, one can guess a fair amount."
The man before her was by no means a sincere person, yet at this moment, he gave his most sincere answer.
The fire in the Shen family caves and the murals flashed through her mind like lightning. She suddenly felt a pang of distress, unwilling to discuss such topics on such a beautiful morning.
He had slept for so long; she should have had endless feelings to share with him, but now it was difficult to speak.
After a long silence, she looked at the empty woodpile and said softly, "Let's not talk about that. Speaking of which, I went to the Cold Study to find that Luo He as you instructed, but he claimed to be your maternal uncle or something. He used his status as an elder to suppress me the whole way. When I pressed him, he refused to say much, acting all secretive. I suspect he has some hidden secret..."
"He is indeed a member of my mother's family. When he was young, he owed my mother a favor he can never repay in this lifetime. If I speak, he wouldn't dare be insolent." He paused, then looked at her with a smile. "As for secrets, they aren't really secrets. If you want to know, I can tell you everything, down to the last detail."
The face she had just kissed was now smiling like a spring breeze, bright and intoxicating. Xiao Nanhui suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.
Was she really overthinking it? Two families laying their cards on the table and discussing parental affairs—that was the kind of plot found in plays when discussing marriage.
She cleared her throat, feigning composure.
"It's not that I want to know that badly... I'm just worried he's unreliable. If you trust him, then I have no reason to hesitate."
"I haven't seen him in many years either. What you said isn't entirely without merit. Since the timing is right, I should catch up with him properly."
After saying this, he looked down at their joined hands.
Knowing she couldn't be thick-skinned any longer, she let go and waved her hand with feigned nonchalance.
"Of course, of course. I saw him head that way just now. It won't be too late to find him after you go back and put on your shoes and socks."
Su Wei stepped back slightly, gave her one last quiet look, and then turned to leave.
Watching him walk away, she picked up the wine cylinder and headed toward the stone house where cooking smoke was rising in the distance.
She suddenly realized she was liking the feeling of parting from him less and less. This was not a good sign.
Walking forward with a heavy heart, she instinctively stopped when she passed the chicken coop behind the woodpile.
This coop was better fenced and larger than the one at the farmhouse outside the valley; it seemed someone tended to it regularly.
Ding Weixiang was still in his green robes, the hem tucked into his waist. He was guarding a ceramic basin with a bit of millet, busy and drenched in sweat.
Xiao Nanhui stood at the gate for a while, finding the sight more and more amusing.
"I didn't know before that Lieutenant Ding had such a passion for feeding chickens."
Ding Weixiang remained silent, but his expression was grim. He clearly knew she was standing there, yet he didn't dare stop his movements for a second.
She stepped closer, looked at the half-mixed chicken feed in the basin, and shook her head with a feigned sigh.
"Still too thin. If you feed them like this, these chickens probably won't last a few days."
Ding Weixiang shot her a look of blatant suspicion, but his hands stopped.
Xiao Nanhui didn't say another word. She stepped forward, took the kitchen knife, and began skillfully chopping the chicken feed.
When it came to raising chickens, she was an expert.
Back in that village in Bijiang, she had tended to all sorts of local chickens, silkies, and free-range birds. If it weren't for that chicken-stealing physician Hao Bai always being greedy, she might have made a fortune raising chickens in Bijiang.
She mixed in some millet here, some chopped cabbage scraps there, and stirred vigorously. While her hands were busy, she recalled the scene from earlier and asked casually.
"Your Majesty ran out barefoot just now. How do you have the leisure to feed chickens here? If the Shen family catches up, you'll be full of regret."
Ding Weixiang gave a soft snort.
"The Shen family wouldn't dare pursue us here."
The answer seemed a bit too certain, but Xiao Nanhui didn't care to press it for now. She asked about what she truly cared about.
"What exactly did His Majesty take before? Why did he sleep for so long? I thought the poison hadn't been cleared. I was so scared I didn't dare close my eyes at night, getting up three or four times to check if he was still alive."
Hearing this, Ding Weixiang's tone softened slightly, though his words remained stiff.
"You think it's over just because the poison on the Secret Seal was cleared? Have you forgotten Zou Sifang's end?"
So, he had indeed chosen to fall into a deep sleep to avoid becoming a puppet like Zou Sifang?
But...
"Then what should be done now? He can't just take another pill and keep sleeping forever, can he? And now that he's awake, isn't it possible at any moment that..."
"That is why we came here."
He stopped halfway, leaving her hanging. She looked up to see Ding Weixiang had found a shady spot and was comfortably crossing his legs, looking like a landlord's wife supervising a worker.
Xiao Nanhui felt a surge of irritation.
"This is your job. I'm helping you out of kindness, and you're taking it easy."
Ding Weixiang held his blade across his waist and spoke righteously.
"I see those chickens like you very much. As they say, the capable should do more work. It's good for you to worry a bit more."
Xiao Nanhui immediately slammed the knife onto the chopping block, wiped her hands, and walked aside.
"Seeing how you were so subservient and enduring towards that old woman earlier, could it be you did something shameful and she's holding it over you?"
As soon as she said this, Ding Weixiang could no longer sit still, and his face darkened.
"What nonsense are you talking? I am doing this willingly..."
Ding Weixiang was a proud man. Except for his supreme master, he never deigned to explain himself to others. He was picky and would never touch anything that tarnished his status as a swordsman.
If someone had told her that Lieutenant Ding Weixiang was willingly helping someone feed chickens, she would have laughed three times toward the sky and called it a total absurdity.
But now that she had heard it from his own mouth, her curiosity was impossible to suppress.
"I just went to the village outside the mountain this morning. Although there are no inns, you must have some silver on you. It would be enough to find a place to eat and stay. Why insist on huddling in this mountain gully, living under someone else's roof and doing hard labor?"
"What do you know? How can this place be compared to common inns or houses?" Ding Weixiang's expression turned strange, back to that stifled, hesitant look. "Besides, His Majesty told me to wait for him here. If I'm not here, where else would I go?"
In truth, if Ding Weixiang had only said that last sentence, she wouldn't have found it strange or confusing at all.
She should have realized long ago that the only person who could make him compromise so much and do so willingly was his precious master.
But why did the Emperor arrange to meet in these mountains? Or rather, why at this old woman's house?
She couldn't help but think again of the warning from the man buying wine in Baishi Village. If she were just an ill-tempered old woman who liked to snatch people to help feed chickens, how could she be rumored to be so terrifying?
While she was lost in confusion, the gate of the chicken coop was pushed open. The person in question walked in slowly with her hands behind her back.
"Is the wine here?"
Before she could react, Ding Weixiang, upon hearing the voice, bounced up like a freshly cooked meatball from Laochengju. He quickly grabbed the chicken feed she had just mixed and began working diligently.
Xiao Nanhui watched in amazement.
Even if his dear Majesty had ordered them to stay here, there was no need to be so dedicated and hardworking, was there?
The next moment, the bamboo cylinder in her hand was snatched away.
"The wine is here, so why are you idling? I don't keep freeloaders here."
A basket flew through the air with earth-shattering force, startling her into catching it with both hands.
Was this old woman really seventy or eighty years old? Why was her agility and strength comparable to a strong man working the fields every day?
Xiao Nanhui held the basket, thinking that since a certain someone was currently living under this roof, she didn't dare be disrespectful.
"May I ask, Senior, what do you need me to do?"
The old woman pointed outside unceremoniously.
"The firewood by the stove is damp. Go get some more. It looks like it will rain tomorrow or the day after; get enough for two or three days."
Xiao Nanhui nodded, not daring to delay. She shot Ding Weixiang a glare before heading out with the basket on her back.
The path leading to the back mountain behind the stone house was half-hidden in wild grass and shrubs. She was too lazy to memorize the way and hadn't intended to go far, but worried that firewood gathered nearby wouldn't meet the picky old woman's standards, she ventured deeper.
She walked and gathered wood. After the time it takes for half a stick of incense to burn, the dense forest and shrubs suddenly thinned out. Looking down, she realized it was the result of intentional clearing and pruning.
The dry branches on the ground crunched under her feet. She stepped carefully and found herself in a small clearing. In the center was a solitary, modest earthen mound. Atop the mound was a withered tree trunk, appearing to be a plum tree that hadn't sprouted in years. The soil around it, however, looked soft, clearly having been tended to regularly.
Seeing the pear blossoms blooming in July outside, she had thought nothing could fail to grow in this valley, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
Or perhaps, "the willow planted carelessly grows into shade, while the flower tended with care does not bloom."
Her curiosity was piqued. She took a few more steps. Something flashed beneath the withered tree. She froze, suddenly realizing what it was.
It was a sword, half-buried in the earth. The hilt was narrow, and from a distance, it looked like a branch growing from the dead tree.
This was, in fact, a sword mound.
Suddenly, an aged voice rang out behind her, filled with undisguised anger.
"Who allowed you in here?!"
Xiao Nanhui turned in shock to see the old woman storming toward her, moving with frightening speed.
She instinctively stepped back, but the other woman only stopped by the sword mound, carefully inspecting the withered tree. It was now obvious who had been tending this place.
Xiao Nanhui recovered from her surprise and spoke cautiously.
"Is Senior mourning the owner of this sword?"
The old woman instantly retracted her sorrowful expression and glared at her fiercely.
"I am the owner of this sword."
Xiao Nanhui was stunned, then could only give a few dry laughs.
"I see." She didn't dare ask more about the sword, so she pulled a topic from thin air. "A friend of mine in Quecheng has many plum trees in his home. He once told me during a chat that plum trees must experience winter to grow lush and bloom. This place is like spring all year round; I'm afraid it's not a suitable place for plum trees. Perhaps Senior could try another spot."
The old woman suddenly stared at her with piercing eyes.
"What is your relationship with the Mei family?"
Now it was Xiao Nanhui's turn to be stunned.
She instinctively wanted to mention Pingxian, but felt it was too complicated, so she simply mentioned Su Pingchuan.
"This friend's mother is from the Mei family, and he is my colleague in the army. When we were young..." Thinking of the past, a faint smile appeared on her face. "We had some history together."
She had only said it in passing, but the old woman's interest went elsewhere.
"Since you are colleagues, have you ever sparred in private?"
The image of a certain someone in his undergarments, waving a tree branch and shouting at her, surfaced. Xiao Nanhui barely managed to control her expression and said solemnly.
"We did spar once, but halfway through, something happened, and we had to settle for a draw."
The old woman snorted, unsure if she had detected the half-truths in her words.
"And what do you think of his swordsmanship?"
Xiao Nanhui pondered for a moment, recalling the scene and speaking honestly.
"More than enough ingenuity, but lacking in upright strength. A sword is for facing a single foe; for a general who must go to the battlefield and face ten thousand, his style is a bit too narrow."
She spoke quickly, then felt something was wrong. She looked up to see the other woman still staring at her intently, and her unease grew more pronounced.
However, for some reason, the old woman suddenly looked away.
"Is everyone who has been to the battlefield as stupid and dull as you, unable to read the room?"
The woman seemed to be speaking to her, yet also seemed to be talking to herself toward the bare sword mound. Though the words were harsh, her tone held no disdain or hatred, but rather a hint of a sigh.
Only now did Xiao Nanhui notice that the woman's shock of white hair made her look older than she actually was. Her face appeared fierce only because her expression was so tense, but she wasn't actually that old.
"The spear is the courage of the masses; the sword is the spirit of solitary bravery. There is no definitive answer as to which is superior. If they truly clash one day, the outcome is unknown."
These words could only be understood by a martial artist. If she had been wavering or doubting before, she was now almost certain this old woman was no ordinary villager, but likely a hidden master.
"May I ask if Senior knows Pingchuan..."
"That wretched disciple!"
Before she could finish, she was dazed by the other's sudden roar.
"To think I made an exception to take him as a disciple and worked hard to teach him for five years, yet he never told me plum trees had so many requirements!" The old woman stomped down from the mound, nearly crushing a branch the thickness of a forearm. "He truly takes after his mother's nature—utterly ungrateful!"
Xiao Nanhui was speechless, unsure if she didn't know what to say or didn't dare to speak.
She should have realized why the name "Zhongtian" sounded so familiar. It turned out that the "Zhongtian Taozhi Mountain" Su Pingchuan spoke of wasn't just a sect name, but an actual mountain, and she was standing on it right now.
After a moment's thought, she stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
"Junior Xiao Nanhui pays respects to the Master of the Broken Sword Sect."
Li Yuanyuan, the Master of the Broken Sword Sect, was still kicking the scattered branches on the ground, not even turning her head.
"Of the Six Rakshasas, only I, an old woman, am left. Where is this 'Sect Master'?"
Xiao Nanhui followed behind her, picking up the branches one by one and putting them into the basket on her back.
"Even if only one person remains, it is the foundation of the sect. Senior has guarded this place for many years; surely you understand this meaning deeply?"
Li Yuanyuan gave another snort.
"The only reason I'm still here is because I'm old and can't walk far."
Xiao Nanhui smiled, her previous stiffness fading.
"I see Senior busy running around this sword mound every day; your health seems quite robust."
"What do you know? It's just a discarded sword, not even as valuable as this plum tree."
"A discarded sword?"
Xiao Nanhui looked at the half-exposed blade with skepticism, not believing it to be the work of a mediocre smith.
"The sword 'Jie Jia'—have you ever heard of it?"
Xiao Nanhui shook her head.
"Junior is ill-informed and has never heard of it."
"It's normal that you haven't. It's a sword of legend; no one has seen its true form. The sword before you was forged based on that legend. From the day it was finished, it has only killed one person. Since then, it has been buried in the yellow earth."
She looked at the withered plum tree and suddenly understood something.
"Senior is the owner of this sword, but not the owner of this plum tree, correct?"
Li Yuanyuan seemed tired. She finally stopped her feet and sat down on a tree stump, though her hands continued to pull weeds from the ground. Her expression softened.
"When I first met her, she was a little girl barely taller than a table, yet her spear technique was already decent, and she didn't flinch when facing me. Our temperaments were very similar, and we quickly became close friends. I wanted her to join the Broken Sword Sect with me, but she looked down on my sword style, believing her spear was the best."
If everything before had been speculation, hearing this, Xiao Nanhui was almost certain of the answer. However, thinking of that person's end, she could hardly bear to continue listening to the story.
But Li Yuanyuan seemed lost in the past, her voice never stopping.
"One day she suddenly came to me, saying she had seen a record of sword-forging in some ancient text. It said the sharpest weapon in the world was called 'Jie Jia'—the Unarmored. It was formed from the obsession of lovers and could strip away anyone's defenses. She took it seriously and wanted to forge that sword day and night to give to me as a birthday gift. I laughed at her for believing the sentimental drivel of scholars; perhaps it wasn't a sword at all, but just flowery words written by lovelorn fools."
"But she didn't believe me and insisted on forging such a sword, staying by the forge whenever she had a spare moment. When she asked for my help, I would find ways to decline. But heaven be my witness, I wasn't being insincere; I simply disliked the reason she named the sword."
"The most fragile thing in this world is the affection between a man and a woman. Blades are solid and reliable, things a martial artist can depend on for a lifetime. How can they be compared to something as ethereal as love?"
She stopped there. A sense of frustration and gloom returned to her brow like gathering dark clouds.
"But the thing I looked down upon, she cherished as a treasure. In the end, she laid down her weapons and walked into those high walls and deep courtyards for her so-called beloved. I was angry with her and returned to the mountains, cutting off all contact. By the time I sought news of her again, her spear was broken, and her body had become a handful of yellow earth."
Xiao Nanhui remained silent. When she picked up a bundle of wood to put in the basket, she realized it was already full.
"I forged this sword only for revenge. I spent five years studying the weapon of the man who killed her, forging this sword specifically to counter him. Then I spent another five years lurking in Lingxi until I finally found the chance to kill him. He didn't know me, and I didn't say a single word to him. Everything I did required no one's understanding or recognition. This sword was forged, and even if it only left its scabbard once, it was worth it."
The voice suddenly ceased.
For a long time, Xiao Nanhui heard no more movement. When she turned back, she was shocked to see a single tear track on that cold, fierce face.
Any words of comfort felt hollow at this moment. She didn't know what to say, so she simply stood there, looking up at the solitary sword on the mound.
Perhaps there was some truth in that legend.
But 'Jie Jia'... unarmoring... whose defenses were truly being stripped away?
***
