SS CH10

The hidden passage led straight to the back mountain of Duanshui Manor. By then, the wind and rain had grown even fiercer, stinging sharply as it struck their skin.

The dim daylight brought a breath of relief to Ye Fusheng, though while his vision was clear, the cold rain stirred up his old leg ailment again. He knit his brows just as a dozen or so people rushed out from the mountain woods, holding umbrellas and felt tarps as they hurried toward them with loud shouts.

Leading the group was Xue Chanyi. The moment she reached them, she immediately wrapped Xie Wuyi and Xie Li tightly in outer cloaks without a second word, only then deigning to bestow a glance upon the outsiders. She asked in startled confusion, “Young Master Chu, your eyes…”

Tsk, look at this treatment.

Taking an umbrella handed to him, Ye Fusheng felt thoroughly like a neglected cabbage in a field. Chu Xiwei draped an outer cloak over his shoulders, tilting his head with a silent smile. Xie Wuyi spoke up: “The wind and rain are heavy. Let us return to the manor first.”

Receiving the order, Xue Chanyi and the guards escorted them back like a star-studded procession. She had brought the manor guards—none were extraordinary martial artists, but all were nimble and efficient. In no time, they delivered the four drenched travelers back to the estate, causing Sun Minfeng—who was waiting under the long corridor—to spit out a huge mouthful of tea.

He rushed forward shouting, calling out to Chu Xiwei: “My Lord! Miss Xue told me you ‘ran out in the middle of the night to watch a show, only to fall into a ditch yourself,’ and it turns out it was actually true!”

Chu Xiwei: “…”

Xue Chanyi: “I didn’t say it quite like…”

Ye Fusheng turned his head away, letting out a snort of laughter as his shoulders shook.

Sun Minfeng’s single call of “My Lord” completely exposed Chu Xiwei’s identity. Though few in the world had seen the Sect Master of the Hundred Ghosts Sect, many recognized the Ghost Physician.

Those who had been treated by him were always looking for a chance to settle scores, while those turned away at his door never hesitated to use his portrait for target practice. Sun Minfeng’s face was practically a giant signboard for the Hundred Ghosts Sect.

With that realization, the cryptic deal struck earlier between Chu Xiwei and Xie Wuyi suddenly made sense.

Sun Minfeng pried open Chu Xiwei’s eyelids and checked his pulse. “You won’t die, nor will you go blind, so I won’t waste effort on fancy treatments. I’ll just find a medicinal cloth to blindfold you for three days.”

Chu Xiwei felt that the fact he hadn’t executed this treasonous subordinate yet was proof of his immense benevolence.

After washing up, Xie Wuyi casually punished Xie Li with an hour of horse stance before inviting Chu Xiwei and Sun Minfeng into his private inner room.

With the young boy holding his posture with a tense face under the corridor, Ye Fusheng had no choice but to idle nearby, holding a bowl of hot ginger soup to keep watch. As he drank, he couldn’t stop running his mouth: “Young Manor Lord, if you sink just a bit lower, you’ll have a perfect ‘Wild Geese Landing on Flat Sand’ stance.”

“…”

“Your lower stance is unstable—your calves are trembling. Are you shivering from the cold?”

“…”

Just as he was amusing himself, Xue Chanyi approached carrying a basin of water. Ye Fusheng instantly stood straight, his eyes catching the faint glint of red in her hands through the lamplight: “This is…”

Startled by his voice, Xue Chanyi instinctively shifted the copper basin closer to her side. Seeing Xie Li still facing away, she let out a sigh of relief and hurried past.

Squinting as he watched her leave, Ye Fusheng saw only a tightly closed door—the very room where Xie Wuyi and the other two were currently gathered—and Xue Chanyi had just carried out a basin of bloody water.

“Young Manor Lord, I’m going to wash my bowl. Keep practicing!”

Before Xie Li could respond, Ye Fusheng slipped away after Xue Chanyi. Avoiding the other servants, she poured the entire basin of bloody water into a flowerbed, wiped her hands dry with a handkerchief, and expressionlessly turned into the kitchen to pick up a food box before heading toward the rear courtyard.

Duanshui Manor covered a vast area, but its population had dwindled, leaving many courtyards abandoned. Gulping down the rest of his ginger soup and massaging his bad leg, Ye Fusheng felt recovered enough to rely on his superior qinggong, tailing her through twisting paths until she entered a secluded small courtyard.

It was late autumn, with withered plants and a rainy night adding a grim atmosphere. Though quiet, candle flame still flickered inside the room. Standing guard under the corridor were a manor guard and a heavy-labor maidservant.

Upon seeing Xue Chanyi, both bowed instantly without uttering a single word. Xue Chanyi handed the food box to the maidservant and instructed, “The soup inside needs to simmer for another half hour. Once it’s ready, bring it over while it’s hot.”

The maidservant made a couple of hand signs and accepted it respectfully. Hidden in a large tree, Ye Fusheng guessed that both servants were mute.

Xue Chanyi knocked on the door, and the sound of breaking objects immediately echoed from within. Unbothered, she pushed the door open and closed it smoothly behind her.

Like a drifting leaf, Ye Fusheng moved silently through the curtain of rain, evading the guards and alighting near a quiet corner of the house, carefully poking a hole through the paper window.

Despite the cold weather, there was no brazier inside, and only a single candle was lit. The dim light made it all the easier for Ye Fusheng to spy within.

The room’s furniture and display cabinets were all carved from fine sandalwood, far superior to even Xie Li’s quarters. Sitting by the table, Xue Chanyi had shed her usual spoiled arrogance, leaving only an unbothered, cold detachment.

Her expression closely mirrored Xie Wuyi’s, though hers was sharper and bitter, like a vengeful ghost full of resentment.

On the bed lay a person, surrounded by shattered medicine bowls and spilled dregs on the floor.

“Shizu (Grandmaster), you’re refusing your medicine again. If Shifu finds out, he’ll worry.”

Xue Chanyi rested her chin on her hand, her bright eyes and fair face picture-perfect. The next moment, the figure on the bed agitatedly tried to sit up, only to tumble onto the floor. His hand was cut by porcelain shards, yet he could only produce a string of broken, wordless noises from his throat.

This man was also mute. Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes, recognizing an elderly man nearing sixty, white-haired and emaciated. Dressed in rags, he would look even more pitiable than an old beggar on the street.

Yet years ago, Ye Fusheng had once chanced to see this very elder full of grand vigor.

A blade in hand, matchless against ten thousand.

He was the former Lord of Duanshui Manor, Xie Wuyi’s biological father, Xie Chongshan.

“Oh dear, look how careless you are. If this disturbs Shifu, he’ll blame me for failing to care for you,” Xue Chanyi said with a dark, low smile as she watched the old lord struggle on the ground. “No, he hasn’t come here in almost a year. Right now, at a matter of life and death, how could he possibly remember you?”

Xie Chongshan gestured wildly with his hands, but his lower body remained paralyzed on the floor like a rooted tree. Ye Fusheng’s heart sank—the man was crippled.

“I didn’t expect him to actually have the nerve to accept the Seizing-Blade Challenge, and I certainly didn’t expect… he would choose to pull the needles.”

At her words, the crawling elder shuddered, raising a trembling hand to point frantically at her.

“Don’t look at me like that. You made the choice yourself back then—don’t tell me you don’t know the outcome? The poison has settled deep into his organs over the years; even scraping the bone wouldn’t purge it. Replacing the marrow and blood was his only sliver of survival, yet he… actually chose to pull the needles,” Xue Chanyi babbled, her cold expression breaking into a mixture of laughter and tears. “Three years! His internal energy, sealed for three years, will break its shackles. He’s a dead man—he’s dead for sure!”

Xie Chongshan made broken noises for a long time without uttering a coherent word, while Xue Chanyi repeated “dead for sure” like a madwoman. The rapid shifts in her face sent a cold chill down Ye Fusheng’s spine.

After a moment’s thought, he slipped back into the front courtyard under the cover of the rainy night, finding Xie Li still holding his horse stance under the corridor.

Coincidentally, Chu Xiwei had stepped outside.

A hand-width piece of white cloth covered his eyes, emitting a bitter medicinal scent, but his ears were sharp. The instant Ye Fusheng appeared, Chu Xiwei turned his head: “Brother Ye.”

Ye Fusheng replied politely, “Young Master Chu.”

Both being shrewd men, they left the oblivious child under the corridor and walked side-by-side toward a quiet spot.

Chu Xiwei said, “Master Sun found me in the way and kicked me out. I thought I’d have no company on this long night, but I didn’t expect Brother Ye to return so opportunely.”

Ye Fusheng rubbed his chin, kicking aside a stone blocking Chu Xiwei’s path. “The servants responsible for sweeping this manor are getting lazy—they deserve punishment.”

Hearing the noise, Chu Xiwei smiled: “Thanks to Brother Ye’s help, I wonder how I should repay your favor?”

“To be called ‘brother’ by the Master of the Hundred Ghosts Sect is a privilege meant only for King Yama. I’m just a common mortal and truly don’t dare accept it,” Ye Fusheng shrugged. “Though I wonder if the Sect Master could clear up a question for me?”

Chu Xiwei was quick on the uptake: “Regarding what Master Sun is currently doing?”

Ye Fusheng gave a low hum, and Chu Xiwei smiled: “Things having come to this point, there’s nothing that can’t be said. I assume Brother Ye knows of the Jianghu rumors regarding Lord Xie’s three years of silence?”

“If people didn’t hear that the tiger had its teeth pulled, why would wild wolves come to provoke it?”

“What if that wasn’t a rumor, but the truth?”

Ye Fusheng raised a brow: “I’m listening.”

“Since you know my identity, you naturally have no doubts about Master Sun. Three years ago, he was invited by Duanshui Manor to treat Lord Xie’s toxic injuries, only to find him afflicted with a rare poison alongside severe internal trauma. To save his life, he had to cripple his martial arts… Unfortunately, martial artists value their skills more than life itself. Lord Xie would rather die than become a cripple.

“In the end, Master Sun compromised, using golden needles to seal his acupoints and trap the poison within his three vital acupoints. As long as the needles weren’t pulled within seven years, his life would be safe. However, those three vital acupoints are essential paths for internal energy; sealing them stripped Lord Xie of eighty percent of his power, and any forced usage causes unbearable pain.”

Ye Fusheng’s expression remained calm as Chu Xiwei continued: “A month ago, Burial Soul Palace sent a challenge to Duanshui Manor, so Lord Xie sent Miss Xue to our branch to seek the Ghost Physician again. The Ghost Physician intended to refuse, but I took an interest in the Duanshui balde and ordered him to accept—provided Lord Xie exchanged the blade for his services.”

Ye Fusheng asked, “What couldn’t be done three years ago can be done now?”

Chu Xiwei smiled: “Precisely because he failed three years ago, the Ghost Physician studied tirelessly until he devised a method to replace the marrow and blood. By using internal energy to draw the accumulated poison into the secondary meridians, guiding it out via golden needles, and selecting a blood relative to exchange blood, Lord Xie could be restored to his former glory.”

“And what becomes of the person who exchanges blood?”

“The accumulated poison is severe, and the poisonous blood in Lord Xie’s body is deep-rooted, requiring a massive amount of blood. That person would almost certainly die,” Chu Xiwei reached out to catch a few drops of cold rain, murmuring, “I thought he would choose that method, yet he proposed pulling the needles… Removing the three golden needles holding back the poison, supplemented by medicine, restores his full power for seven days like a normal man. But it also lets the poison seep into his marrow. Even with medicine prolonging his life, he will only live for seven days.”

So that was it.

So… that was why.

Ye Fusheng let out a long breath. Curious, Chu Xiwei asked, “What are your thoughts?”

“Everyone has their own fate—what thoughts could I have? I merely satisfied my curiosity so it wouldn’t scratch at my mind,” Ye Fusheng curved his lips. “Many thanks to Sect Master Chu for clearing my doubts; we’re even once more… Heh, trading one kicked stumbling block for an answer isn’t a bad deal.”

“If you’re willing, we can continue making such deals—after all, the Hundred Ghosts Sect never lacks stumbling blocks, though few can step over them.”

Ye Fusheng said, “Regrettably, I have a lingering leg ailment, so I fear I lack the strength.”

Chu Xiwei smiled: “Yet when you kicked that stone just now, you seemed quite at ease.”

Ye Fusheng tilted his head: “With a beauty at my side, one must naturally show some chivalry.”

Chu Xiwei: “…”

Knowing when to stop, Ye Fusheng reined in his joking tone and asked seriously, “Does Sect Master Chu plan to wait seven days to watch the Grand Martial Assembly?”

“I have no interest in an outcome that can already be guessed. Since the deal is struck, once Master Sun finishes pulling the needles, we shall leave. What about you, Brother Ye?”

“I was entrusted with a task, so I must see it through. Having taken a silver ingot from Miss Xue, I must ensure the Young Manor Lord makes it through these seven days with all his limbs intact.”

“Then… until we meet again by fate.”

Reaching the end of the corridor, bright lamplight filled the space. Unfortunately, one was blind in the light while the other wore a blindfold; they shared a subtle smile, high-fived, and passed each other by.

The instant their hands touched, they separated.

Turning his back on Ye Fusheng, the smile on Chu Xiwei’s face instantly vanished, his lips pressing into a sharp blade.

Ye Fusheng was remarkably like that person—whether it was his annoying tone when speaking or his occasional teasing.

If it were a month ago, he never would have parted ways with Ye Fusheng so decisively.

But he had already been to Jinghan Pass. He had seen the battered cliffside, the lonely grave beneath the withered tree, and the nameless tombstone.

He had even dug open the grave with his own hands and seen the pale ashes inside the box.

A person who seemed so towering in his childhood was not even enough to fill his hands after death.

That person was dead. No matter how many similar people he met, none of them would ever be him.

Chu Xiwei felt somewhat relieved that he couldn’t see right now, or he certainly would have turned back.

To turn back for a mere shadow would be the ultimate insult to that person.

Ye Fusheng—life is like a leaf floating on water, and death is like a lamp extinguished… The departed are gone, and that is all.