Unarmored | Chapter 7 | Rainy Night in the North | Novela.app

Since ancient times, the virtues of the righteous and the wise have stood as tall as the heavens and the earth. For thousands of years across the lands of Chizhou, any who established a capital and claimed the title of King were required by destiny to possess the three Imperial Seals: the Divine Seal, the State Seal, and the Secret Seal. To lose even one was a sign that the Mandate of Heaven had been withdrawn, an omen of impending collapse. The Su clan, founders of the current Tiancheng Dynasty, suffered from exactly such a loss—the Secret Seal. The Su clan were originally high-ranking officials of the former Niexuan Dynasty. During the chaos of the Niexuan’s final years, they usurped the throne from the former monarchs, the Qiu clan. They renamed the capital from Ledu to Quecheng and established the dynastic name of Tiancheng. Yet, it remained a stolen throne. As the Niexuan Emperor watched his kingdom fall, he exerted his final strength to send the three seals away by different routes, hoping to shatter the Su clan’s dream of a legitimate reign. After executing the old King, the Su clan spared no military might in pursuing the martial arts masters who harbored the seals. After three days and nights, they intercepted two. The protector of the final seal was the Princess of the fallen dynasty, Qiu Feiyu. Qiu Feiyu rode a Qicong, a legendary steed bred in the Migu Mountain Pass, capable of traveling a thousand miles a day and traversing the most treacherous terrain. The Tiancheng pursuers chased her for over a month before finally cornering her at the edge of the marshes north of Huozhou. Legend says that Qiu Feiyu chose death over surrender, riding her horse into the depths of the marshes at Baiyao Pass. She and her steed sank into the cold, muddy depths, taking the final Imperial Seal with them. From that moment on, all trace of the Secret Seal vanished from the northern and southern lands. Upon taking control of the realm, the Su clan implemented wise policies and deliberately downplayed the fact that a seal was missing. They publicly claimed the Secret Seal had long since been recovered and that Qiu Feiyu, overcome with shame after losing it, had taken her own life at Baiyao Pass. However, many doubts remained. For instance, Qiu Feiyu’s body was never found. Furthermore, the hundred-man unit that pursued her was disbanded upon their return to court; the soldiers returned to their farms, only to die one after another shortly thereafter. Moreover, during the founding of Tiancheng and various imperial sacrifices, the Emperor was never seen to produce this third seal. Nearly a century had passed. The old souls of the former palace had all scattered, and few remained who had even seen the Secret Seal, let alone anyone capable of judging whether it had truly been returned to its place. Thus, the Su clan sat firmly upon the throne. Just as everyone was beginning to forget this ancient matter, another great upheaval struck the Tiancheng Dynasty. The former Imperial Censor, Bai Heliu, committed treason and fled to the southern territory of Bijiang, taking a hundred thousand troops with him. This was the Yuan’an Rebellion. How could a mere civil official command an army to revolt? To the common folk of Tiancheng, this had always been a mystery. The diviners said: "Heaven will not let the Bai perish; it is the will of fate." This suggested that for the Bai clan to commit treason under the Emperor’s very nose and take an army to establish their own territory, it must have been ordained by the heavens. The commoners might chat about such things in their leisure, but they never truly took them to heart. However, in recent years, the confrontation between Bijiang and Tiancheng had grown increasingly fierce. War seemed imminent, and the people of Chizhou were naturally anxious, carefully scenting the air for any change in the political winds. Currently, the matter of the Secret Seal was only just beginning to surface, not yet causing a public furor. But Xiao Nanhui knew this was merely the beginning of the storm. In the past, whenever she slipped out of the manor, it was always with Bolao. Over time, the two had developed a talent for avoiding Cuckoo and Uncle Chen. Traveling light and leading two fast horses, once they were out of the city, they were like fish entering the vast ocean of the martial world—no one could catch them. In the Marquis’s Manor, she could use Cuckoo’s fearsome reputation to keep Bolao in check, but once outside, the world belonged to Bolao. Though Bolao was small in stature, she was exceptionally fierce in a fight. She was different from Xiao Nanhui. Xiao Nanhui had studied under Xiao Zhun, learning techniques meant for the battlefield; she lacked experience in the martial world, and despite her high skill, she was prone to falling for underhanded tricks. Bolao, however, hailed from the Andao Academy. She specialized in close-quarters combat and assassination. By the age of fourteen, her name was already known on the rankings of martial experts. But heaven is often jealous of talent; Bolao had not grown an inch since she was fourteen. Ultimately, the Sect Leader of Andao Academy passed the famous Dou Clan Saber Technique to someone else. Bolao had harbored resentment over this for a long time and had once sworn never to step foot in the martial world again. Of course, Bolao’s oaths were the least reliable things in existence. She was like a bird accustomed to flying in the wild; though her beak complained of the hardships of hunger and cold, her bones could not endure the comfort of a cage. So, when Xiao Nanhui brought up the trip to Huozhou, Bolao put on a brief show of hesitation before agreeing. They spent three days making secret preparations. Leaving behind a letter, they galloped out of the city gates at the final moment before the Hour of the Rooster. This way, if anyone wished to pursue them, they would have to wait until the gates reopened the following morning. They rode hard toward the northeast, chasing the rising sun. It took them over ten days to reach the borders of Huozhou. The moment they entered Huozhou, the sunlight vanished. The heavens had not been kind lately; the entirety of Huozhou was shrouded beneath a massive, dark cloud. Although it was far from the severity of midwinter, the continuous rain made the air damp and freezing. The ground was covered in a layer of slushy mud; one careless step and boots would be soaked through. That bone-chilling cold was not a bit inferior to the depths of winter. The hooves of their two horses were constantly caked in wet, cold mud, causing them to slip as they traveled. After a few days, Jixiang’s eyes were filled with resentment whenever he looked at Xiao Nanhui. Despite her petite frame, Bolao preferred to ride tall, powerful horses. Her horse had a grand and fierce name: Huaqiu. The hair on its rump grew in a whorl, looking like a blooming chrysanthemum from behind. To reach Huozhou, one had to pass through Dafeng Ferry. Yueyuan was a small town beside the ferry crossing. Because many travelers passed through on their way to Muerhe, the town was quite lively. Inns and wine shops had lit charcoal fires at their doors to entice travelers to come in and warm their frozen bodies. Xiao Nanhui and Bolao led their horses from door to door, only to be told at every turn that the establishments were full. One could only blame this unusual, wretched weather. Though spring had arrived, freezing rain continued to fall. The broken ice from the upper reaches of the Hun River had been washed downstream by the rising waters. The current was powerful and swift; a piece of floating ice hitting a boat would leave a hole. No boatman dared to cross the river at such a time. Not a single boat had left Dafeng Ferry for ten consecutive days. Merchants and travelers heading for the opposite bank had congregated in the small villages and towns near the crossing. The inns had long been overflowing. Many owners had hiked their prices, yet the demand for rooms still far exceeded the supply. When Xiao Nanhui knocked on the door of the last inn in Yueyuan, it was already the Hour of the Pig. The proprietor who opened the door was clutching a hand-warmer. His squinting eyes didn't even look at the people before him. Before she could speak, he preempted her: "Apologies, young master, the inn is full. If you want a meal, you'll have to find a seat inside yourself, but for lodging, you'll have to look elsewhere." He started to retreat after speaking, but Bolao quickly stepped forward, using her foot to wedge the door open. Her eyes darted around and spotted a final key hanging on a dilapidated wooden rack. She lowered her voice. "Brother, isn't there still one room left? I saw it." The proprietor waved a hand. "No, no, you saw wrong." "It's freezing out here. Brother, have a heart." Bolao’s foot was as steady as a stone monument; the proprietor simply could not close the door. He said with some irritation, "I told you we're full. Why do you keep pestering me? Do you think you can bully my small shop? I'm telling you, that top-tier room was booked long ago by a noble guest named Zhong. He paid for a whole year in advance. How can I turn around and give it to someone else?" Xiao Nanhui and Bolao exchanged a look, both sensing an opening. They put on expressions of utmost sincerity. "The manager is truly a man of his word. But it's so late now; that Master Zhong surely won't be coming tonight. We'll only stay for one night and won't cause you any trouble." As expected, after a show of hesitation, the proprietor held up five short, pudgy fingers. "Fifty taels." She gave a pained smile. "Deal." As five smooth, lovely silver ingots were pocketed, the proprietor’s squinting eyes seemed to open quite a bit wider. "The stables are across the way. If you take the wrong horse or get robbed, this shop takes no responsibility." Xiao Nanhui didn't bother responding. She signaled Bolao to go inside and check the situation while she led Jixiang and Huaqiu to the stables. The stables were extremely crude. The troughs held only some stale fodder, without a trace of beans or oats. Jixiang pawed the ground in dissatisfaction. She took out some dried mushrooms she had prepared earlier and mixed them into the fodder; only then was the horse somewhat appeased. The rain was falling harder now. She turned and walked quickly back to the inn. The interior of the inn was pitifully small, looking no better than Jixiang’s stable. Upon entering, there were only five or six battered tables, all crowded with people. Some who had only paid for wine just to find a place to rest were sitting directly on the floor. Bolao was squeezed into a corner, craning her neck to shout at her: "Hey, over here!" Xiao Nanhui shed her straw raincoat and carefully squeezed through. She didn't know how Bolao had managed to snag this spot, let alone find a broken wooden stool for her. As soon as she sat down, Bolao pulled at her, making sure her seat completely covered the stool. "Sit tight. Careful someone doesn't snatch it away." Xiao Nanhui didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She ordered two bowls of hot noodle soup and observed the people in the room as she ate. Three or four paces to her left was a merchant traveling with his family. The family of six occupied a large area, their clothing suggesting a wealthy background. Though the four half-grown children sat obediently, they still received occasional hushed rebukes from their father. They had ordered quite a few luxurious dishes. Seeing that the soup and water on the table were mostly finished, the man kept his head down over his ledger, and his wife and daughters did not dare to continue eating. Among the travelers sitting on the floor in the corner, many were eyeing this family. Most focused on the unfinished meat and wine, but one man’s gaze was hidden, falling instead on the man’s waist and the bulging bundles beside him. He was a middle-aged man wearing a headband. Though he carried no obvious weapon, his hands, with their prominent knuckles, were clearly those of a trained martial artist. He seemed to have traveled a long way through the rain; his coarse cloth clothes were soaked through, and the dripping water formed a puddle on the floor that spread toward a neighboring table. Beneath that table was a pair of feet in white boots, which currently shifted away in distaste. The owner of the boots was a young gentleman dressed entirely in white. He was reasonably handsome, but his face seemed to have been dusted with too much fragrant powder, making it startlingly pale. He held a porcelain cup with his pinky finger extended, sipping wine. The cup was clearly his own fine porcelain, far more exquisite than the shop’s ware. To his left and right sat two young women; though not as peerless as those in the Tower of Gazing Dust, they were charming and pretty. They gazed at him with eyes like silk, occasionally letting out low, flirtatious giggles, as if the gentleman had just shared some elegant jest. After two rounds of wine, the two women’s laughter became more exaggerated, nearly doubling them over. The scent of rouge drifted to the next table, where three burly men remained unmoved. Each sat with eyes downcast, focused inward; even when a woman’s sash brushed against their backs, they remained as still as mountains. A closer look revealed that while the three were dressed differently, the weapons on their table were all identical small-guard Hengdao. They radiated the aura of official runners, though for some reason they were hiding their identities here. Xiao Nanhui lowered her eyes and finished her noodles and soup before they could grow cold. Bolao, evidently used to Cuckoo’s cooking, fastidiously left some behind. They had left in a hurry and hadn't brought much travel money, and having just been fleeced by the black-hearted proprietor, Xiao Nanhui truly couldn't afford to improve their fare. Just as she was about to urge Bolao to eat more, the battered wooden door of the inn was pushed open once again. A gust of cold wind and rain sprayed into the room, drawing complaints from those near the door. However, the newcomers offered no apology. The person in the lead wore an azure coat and had a square face that one would forget the moment they looked away. Xiao Nanhui had already started to look away when her peripheral vision caught the scabbard of the man’s saber. She stopped abruptly. This saber... it looked somewhat familiar. *** | Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation | | :--- | :--- | :--- | | 赤州 | Chizhou | The name of the continent/land. | | 天成 | Tiancheng | The current dynasty. | | 夙氏 | Su clan | The ruling family of Tiancheng. | | 涅泫 | Niexuan | The previous dynasty. | | 裘氏 | Qiu clan | The former ruling family of Niexuan. | | 楽都 | Ledu | The former capital. | | 阙城 | Quecheng | The current capital. | | 神玺 | Divine Seal | One of the three Imperial Seals. | | 国玺 | State Seal | One of the three Imperial Seals. | | 秘玺 | Secret Seal | The lost Imperial Seal. | | 裘非羽 | Qiu Feiyu | Princess of the fallen Niexuan Dynasty. | | 麒骢 | Qicong | A legendary breed of horse. | | 秘古山口 | Migu Pass | A mountain pass known for breeding horses. | | 白耀关 | Baiyao Pass | A location in the Huozhou marshes. | | 白鹤留 | Bai Heliu | Former Imperial Censor who rebelled. | | 碧疆 | Bijiang | Southern border region. | | 雨安之乱 | Yuan’an Rebellion | The rebellion led by Bai Heliu. | | 窦氏刀法 | Dou Clan Saber Technique | A specific martial arts technique. | | 吉祥 | Jixiang | Xiao Nanhui's horse (means "Lucky"). | | 花虬 | Huaqiu | Bolao's horse. | | 大沨渡 | Dafeng Ferry | A major ferry crossing. | | 跃原 | Yueyuan | A small town near the ferry. | | 穆尔赫 | Muerhe | A destination further north. | | 昏河 | Hun River | A river near the ferry (means "Dusk" or "Muddy"). | | 横刀 | Hengdao | A type of straight, single-edged sword (Tang-style). | | 望尘楼 | Tower of Gazing Dust | Likely a famous brothel or tavern mentioned previously. |