SS CH1

In the seventh month, the Fire Star descends; fallen leaves flutter in profusion.

The southern lands hold many water towns, yet the season has already passed. The once-splendid sight of lotus leaves stretching to the sky now remains only as utter desolation. The wild ferry had always been bleak and forlorn, but today it had a guest for the first time ever.

The guest wore a black cloak, its hood concealing most of his face. Beneath his feet was a small boat obtained from who-knows-where, without even a straw shelter.

He had stood there for nearly three shichen, from sunset to when the moon rose to the center of the sky, as if roots had grown from his feet—he did not move at all. After a while, a slightly cool wind blew past, accompanied by the sound of fallen leaves being trodden underfoot. A man in night-travel clothes approached from afar along a small path overgrown with wild grass.

Before he reached the foreground, he first bowed deeply in salute. “Your subordinate has arrived late, causing my lord to wait long.”

“The battle at Jinghan Pass has just concluded, and the journey is distant besides. It is not your fault.” The cloaked figure waved his hand, signaling him to approach, his voice somewhat hoarse. “However, bringing a tail along—that is a great mistake.”

The night-traveler was greatly startled. He had rushed all the way, his mind inevitably slackening, and did not know when he had been followed here. His thoughts turned, and he gathered his internal energy into his ears and eyes, immediately detecting no fewer than ten people stealthily moving in the wild woods behind him.

“Your subordinate deserves death. Please, my lord…”

“If they wanted to act, I estimate I’d have to send people into a dog’s belly to find your bones.” The cloaked figure scoffed, turning to look. He saw water splash as a small boat approached from afar. Two men stood upon it: one in gray robes with loose hair respectfully attending from behind, and one in white robes with a jade crown standing at the bow.

The man in white held a long brocade box in both hands. His face was like a ceremonial jade disk, his smile like a clear breeze. “Xiwei, ten years since we met. You have grown taller, and your temper has grown too.”

“A daughter-in-law of many years finally becomes a mother-in-law—who doesn’t have an unreasonable moment?” The cloaked figure swept his sleeve, and the small boat glided across the water without a sound. The ripples had not yet spread two circles before he had already landed behind the man in white. He reached back and pressed against the gray-robed man’s waist-mounted blade, sneering, “Do not wield a great blade before Lord Guan—be careful of smashing your own foot.”

The gray-robed man’s pupils contracted. Catching sight of the white-robed man’s displeased sidelong glance, he slowly loosened his hand, though his entire body remained taut.

“Your foundation is not bad, but your reactions are lacking. He has been by your side all these years, and this is all he has trained up…” The cloaked figure paused, switching to a more tactful word: “…embroidered pillows.”

The man in white coughed lightly. “The Lueying Guard mostly enter carrying their own arts; the commander only manages tasks and punishments. Your words truly wrong him.”

“Brother Ziyu, you manage countless affairs daily. Why waste time with so many unnecessary words?” A breeze passed, the cool air penetrating to the bone, lending the cloaked figure’s voice a few hints of chill. “What business do you have seeking me?”

“The Lueying Guard discovered your subordinate at Jinghan Pass. Originally they thought he was a spy for the remnant enemy forces.” The man in white was unmoved by his killing intent, explaining the matter lightly: “After a round of tracking and investigation, they learned this person came for the Lueying Commander… Though the Lueying Guard are famous across the world, each person’s identity is secret, even more so the commander’s. Thinking it over, the only person in this world who could know his identity and care so much is you.”

The corner of the mouth beneath the hood tugged slightly. “Knowing I’m still living well, are you very disappointed?”

The man in white shook his head, his palm brushing over the flying-heron carving on the brocade box. “Perhaps once, but now… Xiwei, knowing you are alive, I am glad. At least I will not dream of him looking angry at me.”

The cloaked figure’s form stagnated. His gaze fell upon the brocade box, his voice growing even hoarser. “…What do you mean?”

“The matter of the northern barbarians invading Jinghan Pass a month ago—you surely know of it, or else you would not have sent people to investigate.” Glancing at the night-traveler surrounded by his subordinates on the wharf, the man in white’s tone gradually lowered. “Jinghan Pass is a vital northern frontier stronghold. Once breached, it is no different from the national gate being thrown wide open. Yet the barbarians have long plotted, and this time…”

“Chu Ziyu, answer my question!” A sweep of the sleeve, and the hood was blown back by fierce wind. The cloaked figure’s true face was revealed in the moonlight. He looked barely past twenty, with fine brows and almond eyes, hair like spilled ink, born with the good looks of one who stirs trouble among flowers. Yet he pressed his thin lips into a line, his brows and eyes slightly lowered, looking like a blade about to be drawn—aggressively overbearing to the extreme.

The Great Chu imperial house took the nation as their surname. The current emperor had ascended the throne in his youth, reforming laws and reorganizing military and civilian affairs. The new laws were gradually being implemented; among the common folk there were curses and there was praise. But even yellow-mouthed children knew that this emperor who dared to alter the laws of his ancestors was surnamed Chu, named Xun, courtesy name Ziyu.

Being rudely interrupted, the Son of Heaven was neither annoyed nor angry. He only continued: “The defending general died in battle; the war situation was critical. In court there were also fossilized old ministers contending with me. Thus I issued a secret order for the Lueying Guard to rush to Jinghan Pass first, granting them discretion to act as they saw fit.”

The jianghu and the court were as clearly distinct as the Jing and Wei rivers. The authorities still left some leeway on martial arts matters, and xia did not violate prohibitions or break laws with martial force. Thus the delicate relationship between the court and the wulin had been maintained these years.

But the Lueying Guard were an exception.

Since ancient times, dynastic changes and shifts in imperial power had been too numerous to count. Great Chu had passed down only three generations to date. The founding emperor had risen from the military ranks, knowing the affairs of the common people in great detail. Thus after founding the nation and ascending the throne, he secretly summoned martial arts experts to form shadow guards, named them “Lueying,” which had lasted over sixty years to this day.

The previous emperor was soft by nature, dissatisfied with the Lueying Guard’s methods, and reduced and disbanded them, once abandoning them entirely. But the first thing the current emperor did after ascending was to reestablish the Lueying, recruiting anew secret agents and assassins, forging the sharpest blade for himself.

A blade suspended over his enemies’ necks, ready to fall at any moment.

No one knew how many they were. No one knew where they hid. Even more, no one knew… who they were.

Chu Xun’s hand brushing the brocade box grew slower and slower. He said softly, “I ordered them to hold Jinghan Pass at any cost, but I did not expect the cost to be…”

“The barbarians were strong. Within the pass there were spies secretly communicating. One hundred seventy-eight Lueying Guard—yet within ten days over half were lost… Finally, three days ago when the enemy reached the city walls, he infiltrated the barbarian rear camp and assassinated the leader Huta’er.”

Where heavy armies were stationed, infiltration was already fraught with danger. Not to mention after assassinating the enemy commander, being exposed among thousands of troops and horses?

Cold wind slithered into his back like a venomous snake. He heard Chu Xun’s voice growing lighter and lighter. “After the battle, the Lueying Guard searched through every corpse, but unfortunately most were already too mutilated to identify…”

“Shut up…”

“Finally, they found him. Nailed to the mountain cliff by ten thousand arrows. Not a single part of his body intact. Only the Jinghong blade, gripped tightly in his hand.”

“I told you to shut up—”

A furious shout, and the cloaked figure struck toward Chu Xun’s face with a palm. The gray-robed man hurriedly raised his blade to meet it. Flesh palm collided with blade edge, yet not only was the skin unharmed, it rang out with the sharp sound of metal striking stone. Before shock could set in, the cloaked figure brought his palm down vertically, and that four-finger-wide long blade was actually split in two by his body of flesh and blood!

The blade edge broke, but the palm’s momentum did not cease. That hand of the cloaked figure passed like a white egret touching water. His fingers nimbly caught a section of the broken blade, and in an instant it was pressed against Chu Xun’s throat. Only then did the remaining half of the broken blade, still connected to its hilt, fall to the ground.

The gray-robed man’s gaze turned sharp, and he was about to signal the men on the shore to surround them when he heard Chu Xun smile faintly. “Good skill. The attainment of this ‘Nianhua’ form is already no less than Shifu’s.”

The cloaked figure tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I don’t believe a single word you say.”

“Yes, he has always been true to his word. Unfortunately… human calculations, how can they compare to Heaven’s?” Chu Xun slowly pushed the blade aside, raised his hand, and tossed the brocade box into his arms. “He once said he would keep the head on his neck waiting for you to take it. But now he has already been pierced by ten thousand arrows, his remains cremated and buried on the spot. Only this Jinghong remains… I bring it to you in his stead.

“Chu Xiwei, all the affairs of bygone years, right and wrong, gratitude and resentment… to this day, all are settled.”

Having spoken, he suddenly struck, fingers together like a blade, swiftly striking the great acupoint before Chu Xiwei’s body. Chu Xiwei was in the midst of great mental turmoil, caught off guard by a finger strike to his shoulder. As if a surge of internal energy exploded between flesh and bone, his face paled, his whole body falling back onto that swaying small boat. The fingers gripping the brocade box crackled, his tone icy. “Jinglei.”

“We come from the same sect. These ten years I have been with Shifu day and night. There is no reason I should be inferior to you.” Chu Xun stood with hands behind his back, his face still maintaining the bearing of a gentleman like polished jade. “The long night will brighten; it is time for me to return to the palace… I only hope from now on, mountains and rivers shall not meet.”

Water splashed, ripples glittering. The small boat silently receded as it had come. The hidden guards on the wharf also vanished without trace. The subordinate in night-travel clothes disregarded checking his injuries, leaped onto one end of the small boat, and knelt on one knee. “Your subordinate has failed in his task; please punish me, my lord!”

Chu Xiwei paid him no heed. His left hand held the brocade box; his right hand touched the brass clasp. His figure, usually steady as a rock, swayed somewhat. His hand also shook uncontrollably. Only after a long while did he open this small clasp. Only when he saw the dark-colored sheathed long blade inside did he regain his calm.

A three-foot long blade, about two fingers wide. The scabbard was dark black, carved with the posture of a wild goose spreading its wings, so lifelike it seemed the next moment it would break free from the metal and leap into one’s eyes. Yet the blade itself was bright as autumn water, clear and shining like white dew on reeds, borrowing the moonlight to reflect a face pale as paper.

Without a sound, tears streamed down his face.

“I’m crying…” He belatedly wiped his face. It was wet. “I actually… can still cry.”

The tears were roughly wiped away. He tugged at the corner of his mouth, wanting to smile. Unfortunately, he smiled uglier than crying.

He picked up the blade, laughing lowly. “How can you… be dead? You clearly said you would keep your life waiting for me to take it… I don’t permit it. How dare you die?”

After laughing for a while, he choked on his breath, coughing several times, murmuring lowly, “Shifu… how can you… be dead?”

His subordinate knelt behind him; naturally, he could not see what kind of expression his lord currently wore.

At a loss, like a child who cannot find his way home.