SS CH2

On the desolate mountain road, overgrown with weeds, leaden clouds pressed down toward the ground, making it so stifling that one could hardly catch their breath.

A small merchant caravan was rushing along their journey. Unfortunately, this road had been abandoned for too long and was rarely traveled. The crushed stones nearly jolted the carriage wheels right off. If an ordinary person sat in the carriage, it was guaranteed that in less than an hour, they would throw up everything in their stomach, looking even worse than a heavily pregnant woman.

Therefore, everyone placed their goods and supplies on the carts and relied on their own two legs to walk slowly. The only exception was on a flatbed cart piled high with sacks at the very end of the procession, where a person was curled up like a mother hen brooding on her nest.

Ye Fusheng wore a coarse cloth long gown, his hair tied up with a straw rope into a loose, sloppy ponytail. His head rested on the corner of a sack, and his hands were placed over his stomach. If one ignored the crossed leg that was bobbing up and down, it could actually be considered a rather standard resting-in-peace posture.

The others in the caravan were walking until they were sweating like rain. Only he lay on the cart, seemingly immune to the bumps, frivolously humming a little tune he made up himself: “Time is an arrow, the sun and moon a shuttle, how many rounds of spring and autumn have passed; Love, resentment, and hatred, so much right and wrong, birth, aging, illness, and death cannot be begged away; A youth fights for spirit, traveling a thousand miles with a blade across his back, stirring up a pool of calm waters, suffering a bout of heaven’s lightning strikes…”

The more he sang, the more out of tune he got, and the lyrics were absurd and nonsensical. For a moment, the people around all started laughing, except for the manager who was worried sick: “What are you laughing at! Hurry up, the city gates will close in an hour. Do you want to feed the wolves in this desolate wilderness tonight?”

This scolding made everyone shrink their necks in. Only Ye Fusheng was still grinning cheekily: “Manager, there isn’t even a stray dog around here, just relax.”

It would have been fine if he hadn’t spoken, but the moment he opened his mouth, it made the manager fly into a rage: “You blind man, shut up! It’s all because of your constant clowning around! If you cause any more trouble, I’ll break your other leg too!”

Hearing this, Ye Fusheng clutched his left leg with a look of deep sorrow, saying faintly: “Then please strike lightly.”

The manager nearly fell backward from anger.

The world had not been peaceful these past few years. People traveling north and south were as numerous as crucian carp crossing the river, but in the end, they were all just pitiful folks forced to leave their homes. Due to vassal kings rebelling internally and barbarians glaring like tigers externally in recent years, passenger travel and the transport of goods were strictly restricted. However, for people living in this world, daily necessities like firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and tea were indispensable. Thus, the government slightly relaxed its suppression of private merchant caravans. As a result, merchants and peddlers of all sizes sprang up everywhere like bamboo shoots after a spring rain.

Their group had come from the north. A battle lasting over a month had just ended there, and border trade was temporarily closed. So, people who had lost their homes in the fires of war pooled their money, gathered some furs, spices, and other goods, and planned to bring them to southern towns to sell and accumulate some capital. It was at least a way to survive.

This shameless rascal—a dead pig unafraid of boiling water—was picked up by the manager in the north. That night, after they had inventoried their goods, they pitched tents to rest in an open area outside the city. Who would have thought that in the middle of the night, the night watchman would hear several wolf howls from not far away. From the commotion, it sounded like someone was surrounded by a wolf pack. The manager had some martial arts skills, so he ordered everyone to light fires and stand guard while he grabbed a weapon and rushed over. He was gone for more than half a shichen (an hour). By the time the manager returned, there was a bloody person on his back.

The manager didn’t say much, so the others didn’t ask, merely taking turns forcing medicinal soup down his throat every day. It took three to five days before this person finally woke up. He called himself Ye Fusheng. He had neat, handsome features and a straightforward, refreshing temperament. It was just a pity that his eyes didn’t work well, and his right leg had a lingering ailment due to a past injury. It didn’t look like much at first glance, but if he walked a few more steps, it would hurt with a piercing pain.

Ye Fusheng was twenty-nine years old this year, right at the prime age of strength and vigor. If this had happened to anyone else, they’d probably be crying and howling at the top of their lungs, yet it still wouldn’t ease the bitterness in their hearts. But this guy had a heart broader than heaven and earth. Not only did he act like absolutely nothing was wrong, he also constantly provoked the caravan into total chaos, angering the manager so much he almost wanted to snap.

Scolded a few times by the manager, Ye Fusheng let it go in one ear and out the other. He narrowed his eyes, squinted at the sky carefully for a moment, and bossed them around: “Faster, it’s going to rain.”

His eyes were quite strange, too. The fiercer the sun and the stronger the light, the muddier and darker his vision became, sometimes not even able to make out outlines. Instead, during cloudy days, rain, and after nightfall, they became much more normal; even little children couldn’t compare to his sharp eyes and keen ears.

The dark clouds in the sky grew thicker and thicker. The manager couldn’t afford to care about much else and called everyone onto the carts and horses, hoping to rush into the city as quickly as possible. After giving the orders, with a dark face, he hauled Ye Fusheng down and threw him along with a rolled-up quilt into his own carriage, spitting out: “You plague-stricken brat, wrap your leg up tight. Don’t come howling at me later if it catches a chill.”

The manager had always possessed a sharp tongue but a soft heart. Ye Fusheng waved his hand dismissively to bid him farewell, then pulled up the quilt and wrapped himself into a spring roll. The carriage was driven extremely fast. He was jolted until he felt dizzy and his vision blurred, but he didn’t want to throw up; he merely closed his eyelids and started catching up on sleep.

When he woke up again, the caravan had already reached the city gates, but the main doors were already closed. The heavy rain was pattering down continuously. The manager couldn’t bother holding an umbrella and was currently bowing and scraping, saying something to a government runner. Ye Fusheng rubbed his throbbing temples. His vision had finally cleared up a bit, and the two characters “Guyang” on the city tower entered his sight.

“Guyang City…” he murmured in a low voice. Grabbing an oiled paper umbrella, he got out of the carriage despite the attempts of others to stop him.

The rain was not light, drumming noisily against the oiled paper umbrella. A gust of cold wind blew over, making the calves of his legs shiver. Ye Fusheng didn’t even furrow his brow. He shifted the umbrella over the manager’s head and struck up a conversation with the runner in fluent official Mandarin: “Official sir, it’s not yet the hour of You (5 PM), why can’t we enter the city?”

The head runner had his nostrils pointing to the sky, too arrogant and haughty to speak. Ye Fusheng skillfully fished out a money pouch from the manager’s body and stuffed it over. The runner weighed it in his hand, and only then answered grumpily, “The city hasn’t been peaceful lately. No entry is permitted after the third quarter of Shen hour (3:45 PM).”

The manager pulled a bitter face and said: “Sir, you see we’ve come from a long way, dragging along families and dependents, and the weather isn’t cooperating either. Could you make an exception for us?”

The runner said irritably: “If we made exceptions for everyone, wouldn’t these city gates just be for show? Go, go, go, come back early tomorrow morning, don’t block the way here.”

While they were speaking, the sound of horse hooves came from afar. They saw a young girl wearing a black cloak galloping over on a date-red foal. The whip in her hand danced, slicing through the wind. Before the person arrived, her voice reached them first: “Open the gates!”

She rode recklessly, and the caravan people hastily made way for her. The runner also raised his hand, signaling the guards to open the gates. Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes. As he turned around, he stealthily kicked a small pebble. Hidden by the curtain of rain, it struck heavily against the horse’s front hoof.

The date-red foal instantly felt the pain and reared up, neighing at the sky. Caught completely off guard, the young girl was thrown into the air. Fortunately, her reflexes weren’t bad; she braced one hand on the ground and, with a backward flip, barely managed to steady her posture.

The head runner, who had just been domineering and arrogant, was now scared pale as dirt. He hurriedly rushed forward with an apologetic smile: “Aiya, this, this… Is Miss Xue unharmed?”

“Get lost!” The young girl surnamed Xue viciously wiped the rainwater from her face. Fortunately, she was bare-faced and wearing no makeup; otherwise, right now, not a trace of beauty could be seen. She raised her whip and lashed the foal twice. The horse, frightened and in pain, spun around irritably on the spot, utterly refusing to be tamed.

In a fit of anger, she fiercely smashed her whip into the ground. Looking at the caravan, she walked toward Ye Fusheng and the manager, tilting her chin up to say, “I want a horse. How much silver will you sell one for?”

The manager frowned, but Ye Fusheng smoothly interjected: “There’s no need for silver. We are also going into the city anyway; it’s no trouble to give Miss a ride.”

As he spoke, he shifted the umbrella over the young girl’s head, barely shielding her from some wind and rain. The daylight was dim right now. The light filtering through the water-green paper umbrella was obscure yet gentle. Most of Ye Fusheng’s face was sunken in the shadow of the umbrella, leaving only a pair of peach-blossom eyes that were empty and misty like fog, his mouth curving into a delicate crescent moon. Even though a coarse cloth outfit couldn’t be considered fine silk garments, his beast-like suave charm still tugged at one’s heartstrings.

The young girl looked to be only fifteen or sixteen years old. She tilted her head and blinked, her tone softening slightly: “You also want to enter the city? Going where?”

The manager secretly spat out a “pretty boy” in his heart, but his face maintained an expression of utmost humility: “In reply to this Miss, we are all merchants from out of town. We just need to find an inn to settle down in the city first.”

The girl nodded, turning a blind eye to the difficult expression on the head runner’s face, and ordered: “Fine, you give me a horse, and I’ll bring you in.”

Saying this, she turned around to go pick a horse, unexpectedly being stopped for a moment by Ye Fusheng. Looking back, she bumped into a somewhat disheveled face reflected in a bright mirror.

Ye Fusheng was holding a small round mirror, smiling gently: “The wind is fierce and the rain is heavy, I presume Miss has been rushing and laboring all the way. Why don’t you get into the carriage and rest for a moment? Although it’s not very comfortable, it’s at least tidy.”

The young girl froze, staring at him for a moment before reaching out to snatch the round mirror. She then lashed out at the head runner: “Why aren’t you opening the gates yet! If you delay my business, I’ll make you pay for it!”

The head runner assented subserviently. He then saw the young girl step onto the carriage shafts, turn her head, and point at Ye Fusheng: “You, drive the carriage for me.”

Under the umbrella, Ye Fusheng tapped the corner of his eye with one hand, giving a slight smile: “It is my honor.”

The young girl turned her head and squeezed into the carriage. Ye Fusheng shoved the umbrella into the manager’s hand, then untied the wine gourd from his waist and handed it to the head runner. Both men were left looking hilariously dumbfounded like wooden chickens.

The manager’s face was full of complex emotions: “I say, you… have you ever calculated how many romantic debts you owe?”

The head runner marveled in awe: “Good methods, I yield.”

“When drifting in the jianghu, who can avoid flirting a little?” Ye Fusheng smiled humbly, his aura of an elegant scumbag fully on display. “This official sir, can we go in now?”

The head runner had yet to snap out of it: “This Miss Xue is famous in our Guyang City for being unruly and unreasonable. Who knows how many men who tried to court her have been lashed by her whip. Did she run into a ghost today?”

Ye Fusheng continued to smile: “Because from the back, I stand more heroically than them; from the front, I look more handsome than them; and even if you peel off my skin, I still have more substance than them.”

“…Say no more, please enter!”

The head runner slapped his thigh and turned to order his subordinates. Ye Fusheng stopped him and asked: “Sir, just now you mentioned the city hasn’t been peaceful lately. May I boldly ask what has happened?”

The head runner didn’t keep him in suspense any longer and said: “Little brother, do you know of the ‘Duanshui Villa’?”

Ye Fusheng’s expression filled with awe and respect: “Is it the Duanshui Villa that holds the beautiful title of ‘Number One Saber Under Heaven’?”

The head runner lowered his voice: “That reputation is all from a few years ago.”

Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes: “Oh? How so?”

“The Villa Master of Duanshui Villa, Xie Wuyi, hasn’t fought in three years. Normally, he doesn’t even step out of the main gates or past the second doors. People are all saying… he’s become crippled.”

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