SS CH14

Xie Wuyi originally thought that such a man, regardless of where he was or what name and identity he took, should always live a grand and vigorously dynamic life.

However, what Ye Fusheng narrated was a brief and peaceful period of time.

The border pass was bitter and cold. Almost every day, there were soldiers wounded or killed. Never mind the luxury of returning wrapped in horsehide; even having three inches of thin dirt to cover one’s broken corpse was already a massive stroke of good fortune. At the turn of summer to autumn three years ago, a batch of new recruits arrived at the border military camp. Among them was a strange man. Although his face was covered in dirt and ashes, his features were neat and handsome. His right hand was injured, yet his movements were sharp and agile. Even the old military rogues who had survived on the battlefield for years were no match for him.

He loved to joke and had a good temper. He wasn’t considered a prominent figure in the military camp, but he had quite good relations with others. He patrolled and marched into battle alongside the burly, rugged men, and returned shedding tears as they carried back their dead and wounded comrades-in-arms.

At the end of that year, the nomadic tribes beyond the borders raised an army to invade. There were superior officers embezzling funds and docking military pay. Hungry and freezing, the soldiers hastily engaged in battle. Although they repelled the enemy, no one knew exactly how many lives were forever left on the battlefield. The broken sabers and halberds were covered in cold, coagulated hot blood, and the desolate earth half-buried the stiff, mutilated corpses.

More than half of the soldier brothers he had shared life and death with over the past year were gone. He personally dug dirt pits one by one, sending these men off to the netherworld. Then, he heard that the city’s defending official was complacently preparing to request a reward for merit.

Over five hundred soldiers and nearly a hundred laborers—now, not even three out of ten remained. Every single person who survived had stepped upon the bones of the sacrificed.

Because heaven was high and the emperor was far away, the defending official falsely reported the casualties and vastly exaggerated the battle achievements. In name, it was a battle report; in reality, it was a request for merit. In this way, the survivors might get their rations, pay, promotions, and wealth, but for the dead, there would only be a pitifully meager sum of condolence silver. And then, new recruits would replace the old, covering up all traces.

That was probably the very first time in his life he fell into a violent rage. He barged into the main tent, bluntly criticizing and trying to dissuade the official. However, the defending official, blinded by greed and desire, ordered him to be dragged out and heavily punished with twenty military cane strikes.

The twenty cane strikes fell, tearing his skin and flesh open. The man endured it fully without uttering a single sound. Finally, when the defending official was reprimanding the other soldiers, he snatched a dao and chopped off that abhorrent head.

Insubordination and brutally murdering a superior officer—having committed such a massive crime, he should have been beheaded as a public warning, but someone saved him.

The young Son of Heaven had just returned from a secret visit to a vassal prince’s fief. Hearing of the tragic battle, he came specifically to inspect the subsequent arrangements. Unexpectedly encountering such an incident, he had the hidden guards by his side step forward, using the imperial token to take the man away.

On the way back to the capital, the Son of Heaven asked him: Are you still willing to serve the country?

The disheveled man, who hadn’t spoken for days, only raised his head at this moment and said: I am willing to offer my life and death for my home and country, asking only for justice and clarity in rights and wrongs.

The Son of Heaven was pleased and said: “The imperial court and the temples of state are all a puddle of muddy water. Even though We are the Son of Heaven, right now We must make many helpless choices. Since you cannot stand the sight of these things, how about you become My blade to sever the tangled hemp?”

In life, there are always times when one’s strength falls short of one’s desires; in this world, there are ultimately matters where one has no alternative.

He didn’t answer until the towering city gates stood before him. Only then did he give a sound of agreement and deeply kowtow.

From then on, the people of the world never saw a single trace of this man again. He completely erased his own existence with a single stroke, transforming into a sharp blade in the hands of the Son of Heaven. Together with other shadows who had similarly abandoned their identities, he hid in the darkness, never to see the light of day.

One promise for a lifetime; resting only upon death.

Until last month, when the Northern Barbarians struck the pass, and the battle at the Jinghan Pass became a dire emergency…

“And then, he died.”

He still remembers it to this day. At that time, a storm of blood and foul wind washed over them. He was originally going to be trampled into mud by the chaotic horses, but he was saved by that man. Sacrificing half his life, the man finally managed to carve a bloody path out of the encirclement.

But for ten li around, the Northern Barbarians had stationed their troops. The two of them were injured and disabled; even if they sprouted wings, it would be difficult to fly out of this sky.

At that time, the man asked him: Do you have any final wishes?

Ye Fusheng was poisoned and couldn’t see anything. He could only lie on his back. After thinking seriously about it, he said he still had an agreement he hadn’t completed.

The man laughed loudly: We are both fallen wanderers at the end of the world. I also owe a promise. It seems the two of us are destined to break our promises.

Coughing while laughing, Ye Fusheng said: It hasn’t reached that point. Put me down. I can still delay them for a moment for you, letting you fight for a chance to go back alive. At least one of us will still be able to keep their promise.

The man continued to laugh without answering him, only running even faster.

At the third watch of the night, they fled into a valley. The barbarian tribes behind them pursued relentlessly, giving them only a very short time to catch their breath.

In that brief moment, the man hid him inside a cave, took off his own outer robe, took away the blade in Ye Fusheng’s hand, and then left behind the brocade pouch and the jade pendant. Leaving only a hasty “don’t come out,” he turned and walked away.

Ye Fusheng lowered his voice and called out a few times, but no one answered. Only the sound of horse hooves shaking the earth and stones gradually drew closer.

He stopped talking. Soon, the continuous clanging of weapons clashing filled his ears without end.

Then, he heard a howling fierce wind, as if ten thousand arrows were fired simultaneously.

“…He died too hastily. There was no time to say anything; he only had enough time to stuff the brocade pouch containing the jade pendant into my hand, and then he went to send himself to his death.” Ye Fusheng lowered his eyelids. “I couldn’t see him then, and I couldn’t catch up to him. I don’t know if he ever looked back.”

It wasn’t until the night of the second day, when all sounds had receded and the heaven and earth were as deadly silent, that he finally groped his way out of the cave. Hobbling out of the valley, he heard the refugees at the border discussing the events, and only then did he piece together the truth from their fragmented words.

That man had found a corpse similar to his own build and tied it to his back. He draped Ye Fusheng’s outer robe over his own body, gripped the Jinghong Saber, and fled for his life, luring the pursuing barbarian tribes out of the valley. In the end, reaching the end of the mountains and rivers (a dead end), he was pierced through the heart by ten thousand arrows before a sheer cliff.

The candlelight in the room had extinguished at some unknown point. Only bits of faint light from outside the window filtered in, vaguely illuminating Xie Wuyi’s silhouette. He still sat in front of Ye Fusheng, but he didn’t speak. Even the sound of his breathing seemed unheard, as if he, too, had become a dead man.

After a long while, Xie Wuyi finally said: “So that is how it was.”

“Because of my duties, I once investigated his background. But the Jianghu is not the imperial court after all; my knowledge was also very limited. I could only deduce from his saber arts and appearance that he was likely the Duanshui Manor Master Xie Wuyi, who had vanished shortly after the battle at Lingyun Peak. But the other details weren’t very clear. I assumed that Manor Master Xie felt disheartened after the battle and decided to leave the Jianghu to enter the temples of state, so I was ordered to halt the investigation.” Ye Fusheng rubbed the space between his brows. “After obtaining this jade pendant, I finally confirmed his identity. So I followed a merchant caravan here, wanting to investigate what exactly happened before making further plans. But I never expected…”

“You never expected that inside Duanshui Manor, there would actually be another Xie Wuyi?”

Ye Fusheng smiled bitterly: “Exactly so. Therefore, the moment I saw the Manor Master with my own eyes, I felt as if I had stepped into another puddle of muddy water again.”

“Do you regret it?”

Ye Fusheng gave a faint smile: “Now that the water has receded and the rocks have emerged (the truth is out), what is there to regret?”

He had dragged his injured and sickly body over a thousand li simply because that man had braved life and death with him multiple times, ultimately saving his life with his own. Ye Fusheng felt that as long as his conscience hadn’t been completely eaten clean by dogs, he had a responsibility to fulfill his final wish.

Now that things had reached this point, Ye Fusheng finally understood. The real intention behind that man entrusting this jade pendant to him was the hope that Ye Fusheng, upon escaping alive, would return it to Xie Wuyi. Although the three-year promise had been broken, this was, at the very least, an explanation and a closure.

“Were it to benefit my country I would lay down my life; what then is risk to me?” Xie Wuyi spoke coldly, “He truly possessed great morality and grand heroism! Since we have both gotten what we needed, then please, do as you wish.”czbooks

Faced with such an erratic, unpredictable change of attitude, Ye Fusheng didn’t feel annoyed. He leisurely poured himself a cup of water, drank it down, and then slowly stood up, cupping his fists. “Then this lowly one will go catch a nap first. May the Manor Master also rest well.”

After he left, Xie Wuyi sat alone in the dim room for an unknown amount of time. It wasn’t until a blast of cold wind blew open the window, sweeping in freezing raindrops, that he stood up as if suddenly awakened.

Having suffered from chronic illness for three years, having the seals broken and the needles removed in a single day—even though his neigong was gradually recovering, Xie Wuyi’s physical foundation was already ruined. Standing up so abruptly actually made him feel dizzy and lightheaded. He had to brace a hand against the edge of the table to barely steady himself.

After a moment, his fingers touched the scabbard of the Duanshui Saber. He trembled slightly, then grabbed the long saber and left the room.

Turning into the kitchen, ignoring the dozing servants, Xie Wuyi directly grabbed a jar of strong wine, then used his qinggong to head to Wanghaichao.

The cliffs at Wanghaichao were steep, and the wind here was even more unbridled and arrogant. Fine rain and messy leaves danced madly without end. The wind whipped Xie Wuyi’s clothes, making them flap loudly like a solitary, proud flag.

He slapped open the clay seal, took a deep, hearty gulp, and then swung his arm, throwing the wine jar down the cliff.

Immediately after, he leapt down. Just as he was about to reach the bottom of the cliff, he stepped his left foot onto his right to borrow momentum. His entire body treaded across the water, finally landing like a wild goose on a bluestone jutting out of the river.

The great river’s waves were fierce and turbulent. The splashing water quickly soaked the thin robes on his body, chilling him to the bone.

The long saber left its sheath. The three-chi (three-foot) green blade illuminated his face, which was as cold as snow.

He swung his saber, exactly like the martial arts practice he had never skipped a single day in the past three years. His neigong flowed through his meridians. Drawing the blade to sever water, flattening the surging waves.

Only when he had exhausted all his moves and the cold had seeped into his marrow did he raise his head to look toward the distant horizon where the water met the sky.

It was already nearing the Mao hour (5:00 AM – 7:00 AM). However, in late autumn, the sky brightened late, let alone with the storm raging. Xie Wuyi looked for a very long time before he finally saw that faint sliver of white in the distance.

“…The sky is about to brighten.”

Note: 

“Were it to benefit my country I would lay down my life; what then is risk to me?” (茍利國家生死以，豈因禍福避趨之) is a famous couplet by the Qing Dynasty scholar and official Lin Zexu. It expresses absolute, selfless patriotism—a willingness to sacrifice one’s life for the nation without calculating personal fortune or disaster.

Support me on Ko-fi