SS CH4

Night fell. The vast sky was draped in ink, and a torrential downpour cascaded down. Throughout Guyang City, not a soul could be seen on the streets and alleys; every household had closed and bolted its doors.

In the rear courtyard of Duanshui Villa, the sound of chopping continued wave after wave. A ten-year-old boy, dressed in a black short-cut training outfit, trod a raw and complex footwork pattern. Gripping a wooden saber that was somewhat too large for him, he ceaselessly chopped at a stone pillar that stood as tall as a man.

His young face was completely rigid. Even though his entire body was soaking wet and his tiger’s mouth (the flesh between thumb and index finger) had turned red from the force of each blow, he still continued swinging the saber in an orderly fashion. The stone pillar was covered in dense, shallow white marks; in some places, spider-web-like cracks had begun to appear.

The man standing beneath the corridor wore a fox-fur-trimmed cloak. He coldly watched the boy practice his saber in the rain, and suddenly raised his hand. A walnut shot through the curtain of rain and struck the child’s wrist holding the saber. The boy’s hand trembled from the blow, and his already split tiger’s mouth couldn’t grip the saber anymore. The wooden saber slipped out of his grasp. His eyelashes quivered, and he bent down to retrieve it, but unexpectedly, another walnut struck his knee. His whole body was about to topple forward. Fortunately, one hand braced against the ground, barely saving him from falling flat on his face.

The man beneath the corridor said in a cold voice: “Come inside.”

The boy strapped the wooden saber to his back, soaking wet like a water monkey that had just crawled up from a river. He stood before the man and, properly and respectfully, called out: “Father.”

“Xie Li, I have told you many times… the greatest taboo for a martial artist is having no strength in one’s hands and an unsteady lower stance. Yet after three years of practice, you haven’t made even a bit of progress. You’re an utter disgrace!” The man had sword-like eyebrows and star-bright eyes, but unfortunately, his face was sickly. He coughed intermittently, and though he was barely over thirty, his brows and eyes carried the deathly stagnancy of an old man.

This was the master of Duanshui Villa — Xie Wuyi.

Xie Wuyi’s wife had died of illness two years ago, leaving behind only this one son, Xie Li. By rights, such a child should be treated as the flesh of one’s heart and the pearl of one’s palm. Yet in reality, this “flesh” was the offcuts a butcher sold cheaply, and the “pearl” was a shoddy item a pawnshop clerk had accepted with blind eyes.

Rising earlier than the rooster in the morning, sleeping later than the dogs at night — the words “practice calligraphy and martial arts” were almost like an immovable mountain pressing down on the child’s head. Things had been relatively fine in the earlier years, but these past two years, life had been akin to suffering punishment. After his accident, Xie Wuyi’s temperament had become erratic, and he was ever stricter and harsher toward this son. At times, even the servants in the villa couldn’t bear to watch, yet who were they to comment on whether the master’s child was being treated well or poorly?

Xie Li swallowed back the words that had risen to his lips, silent and still, like a toad holding its breath at the bottom of its belly. Xie Wuyi scolded him a few more times, then, with a flick of his sleeve, walked away, face full of contempt and impatience.

Once he was gone, Xie Li raised his right hand. Looking at the purple-and-blue walnut print on his wrist, feeling the persistent pain and trembling of his wrist, he silently rubbed it without a word, his heart full of unspoken grievance.

The sound of footsteps approached. Xue Chanyi came with a brocade handkerchief and wiped his face, sighing: “Got scolded again?”

Xie Li, like a sealed gourd, said nothing. But from behind Xue Chanyi, someone else spoke up: “Poor child, your master’s methods weren’t exactly humane.”

The child’s face went pale. Only then did he realize that Xue Chanyi had brought a stranger. The person wore a sky-blue arrow-sleeved long robe, with an indigo brocade sash tied over a broad waistband, ink-black hair draped over the shoulders, and eyebrows and eyes as exquisite as a painting. He appeared to be about the same age as Xie Wuyi with a similar build, except he lacked seven parts of haggardness and carried three extra parts of easy-going elegance.

Half a shichen (an hour) earlier, Ye Fusheng had tidied himself up to look more or less presentable, then sauntered into Duanshui Villa with nothing but his three-inch indestructible tongue and seven-foot thick shameless face, trailing behind the eldest Miss Xue and looking around curiously. Just as he was planning to head to the kitchen for some late-night snacks, Xue Chanyi heard that her master was scolding her shidi again, and she rushed over immediately. Her heart ached so much that even her flower-moon beauty had taken on a fierce edge. Unfortunately, the one doing the hitting was her master; no matter what, Xue Chanyi couldn’t raise her whip against him. So she could only sigh while helping Xie Li rub out the bruises.

Eldest Miss Xue was only sixteen, yet she was already famous in Guyang City as the Night Sha Fierce Woman. Over the years, very few people knew she still possessed such a “womanly” side. Ye Fusheng found it novel and also found the child’s stubborn mule-like temperament quite amusing. He had let out a teasing remark, but to his surprise, Xie Li suddenly put on the same stern coffin-face inherited directly from his old man, saying seriously: “Duanshui Villa does not permit outsiders to set foot here. Who are you? How dare you speak disparagingly of the Villa Master!”

Oh my! Ye Fusheng smiled until his eyes narrowed to slits. He bent down to meet the boy at eye level: “I am the new hire your Elder Sister Xue brought back in an eight-sedan-chair procession.”

Xie Li: “…”

Xue Chanyi gnashed her teeth: “Ye Fusheng! What on earth are you spouting?”

“Fine, there was no eight-sedan-chair procession, but I’m definitely new.” Ye Fusheng waved his hand, and a small oiled paper parcel appeared in his palm as if by sleight of hand, containing neatly cut squares of candy.

A piece of candy was unexpectedly tossed into Xue Chanyi’s mouth. The rich Osmanthus fragrance filled her palate. The curse that was about to burst out was forcibly choked back. Xue Chanyi’s almond eyes sharpened, but the man was already shamelessly putting on an apologetic grin and begging for forgiveness: “Miss, don’t be offended; I humbly apologize. This osmanthus candy is freshly made. Have one to sweeten your mouth, don’t get angry and start scolding — it would only dirty Miss’s mouth.”

Xue Chanyi bit down on the osmanthus candy with a crunch, as if chewing on someone’s bones. But her ears slowly turned red. Xie Li watched with an expression like a wooden chicken. His small mind had never accommodated romantic frivolity before, and now having a ear-full of honeyed words poured into it, he was simply done for.

His mouth fell slightly open, and Ye Fusheng seized the opportunity to shove one in. The pungency and sweetness exploded together in his mouth. Xie Li’s face instantly flushed crimson, but good upbringing made him suppress the urge to spit it out. He chewed it up and swallowed with great difficulty, his eye sockets misty with unshed tears, looking incredibly pitiful.

Xue Chanyi: “…What did you give him?”

“Candy.” Ye Fusheng put on a face of perfect righteousness, then added: “Ginger candy. Look at how long he’s been standing in the rain; how can he not eat some ginger candy to ward off the wind and cold?”

Xue Chanyi exhaled a defeated sigh, patted Xie Li on the head, and, bending down, said to him: “Little Li, go back to your room to bathe and change your clothes first. I still have things to say to this fellow.”

Xie Li drew a breath to dispel the sweet-spicy taste in his mouth and still kept a straight face: “Who is he?”

“A guard I newly hired. Don’t worry.”

Only then did Xie Li patter away in small, quick steps. Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes, watching him go from behind, and lamented: “He’s a good child, just a bit too old-for-his-years.”

“Master has always been strict in his discipline of him.” Xue Chanyi pinched the bridge of her nose and said: “I’ve already spoken with the manager. As long as you don’t violate the rules and cause trouble, you may move freely within the villa and don’t need to defer to anyone.”

“With Miss’s kind treatment, what shall I do exactly?”

Xue Chanyi looked up at him: “I’ll help you sort out the logistics here, and you watch over little Li for me.”

Ye Fusheng asked: “The young master of Duanshui Villa still needs the care of a jianghu drifter like me?”

Setting aside the villa’s guards and disciples, with Xie Wuyi himself present, could he not protect his own son?

If that was truly the case, then the so-called Number One Saber Under Heaven… truly should change hands.

Xue Chanyi didn’t answer but instead posed a question: “When you entered the city today, did you notice anything?”

“I saw many people. Jianghu people.” Ye Fusheng smiled, holding a piece of osmanthus candy in his mouth. “All walks of life, dragons and snakes all mixed together. The large and small inns around here were completely packed by them. I had great difficulty bribing a waiter into clearing out a woodshed for me to heat water and bathe.”

Hearing this, Xue Chanyi sneered coldly: “Pressing forward step by step, truly maggots in the bone, infuriating!”

Ye Fusheng popped the remaining candy into his mouth, speaking with a muffled tongue: “Are they coming for the villa, or… Villa Master Xie?”

Xue Chanyi’s voice was icy: “They’re coming for the ‘Number One Saber Under Heaven’.”

Ye Fusheng chewed on his mouthful of candy and said nothing.

Xue Chanyi took a deep breath and said: “Have you ever heard of a person called ‘Li Feng’?”

Ye Fusheng said slowly: “If you’re talking about the Li Feng of the Soul-Burying Palace at Mizong Ridge, then yes, I’ve heard of him.”

Since ancient times, righteousness and evil could not coexist. The righteous path had its four great sects, and the demonic factions were no less formidable. In the southwestern frontier, there was a deep, winding valley stretching hundreds of li, with complex terrain and poisonous miasma swirling within it. Even birds found it hard to navigate their way out, hence the name “Mizong” (Lost Tracks) Ridge. And deep within this valley lurked the current overlord of the demonic path — the Soul-Burying Palace.

The interior of the Soul-Burying Palace was like a miniature jianghu. In addition to those who had broken from their sects or committed heinous crimes in the martial arts world, it also accommodated some ethnic minority peoples who had lost their homeland to war, and even no few descendants of court officials who had fallen from power and been convicted of crimes. People from all walks of life were present in full, a true mixing of dragons and snakes. Once they entered the Soul-Burying Palace, they were like snakes, insects, rats, and ants diving into mud and mire, lurking in the swamp to peer at the human world, yet utterly severing all ties with their past. From then on, they were only dogs inside the Soul-Burying Palace.

Dogs naturally had no names. Those who could be called by name were the vicious hounds valued by their master.

Li Feng, currently twenty-five years old, oversaw the Azure Dragon Hall of the Soul-Burying Palace. He was an orphan adopted by the Palace Master in his early years, and also one of his most capable subordinates today. Anyone targeted by him was like encountering the most ferocious wolf on the grasslands.

Xue Chanyi’s lips pressed together: “The Soul-Burying Palace has been active in the southwestern frontier throughout its history. Though it has forces entrenched in the Central Plains, it has always avoided making waves there. In the past two years, as foreign tribal battles have repeatedly erupted, the Soul-Burying Palace’s forces have expanded further. It has now begun to shift its center of gravity toward the Central Plains.”

“The martial arts forces of the Central Plains are intricately complex, with no end to the unsettled accounts between the righteous and evil paths. If the Soul-Burying Palace were to strike rashly, they might pull one thread and move the whole rope, so they need to kill the chicken… ahem, set an example to warn a hundred.” Ye Fusheng coughed twice, hammered his aching, numb right leg, and shook his head. “Duanshui Villa is one of the great old families of the Central Plains martial world, and Villa Master Xie is the fame-shaking Number One Saber Under Heaven. By all rights, this should be a tough bone to crack. It’s a pity…”

Xue Chanyi said coldly: “It’s a pity that after what happened three years ago, the entire jianghu concluded that my master is finished. The Number One Saber Under Heaven is now nothing but an empty title. This time, the Soul-Burying Palace has initiated a Clash of Blades Tournament to seize seven famous weapons of the Central Plains righteous path to flaunt their power. Duanshui is the fifth.”

Ye Fusheng asked: “Then as for the so-called jianghu rumors, is it actually the case, or just unfounded talk?”

Xue Chanyi said nothing, her eyes fixed tightly on him. Only after a long while did she speak: “Ye Fusheng, you are a clever man, and also a perceptive one.”

What a truly murky pool of water to wade into. Ye Fusheng sighed and said: “A single drop of grace is repaid with a spring. I, your humble servant, thank Miss Xue for her trust, and I will certainly not fail what has been entrusted to me.”

“Since you have agreed to me, you must see it through.” Xue Chanyi raised her chin, revealing her habitual air of supreme arrogance. Her gaze was cold and sharp, nothing like that of a young maiden, but even more chilling than a venomous snake. “If anything happens to little Li, even if you burrow into the ground, I will dig up eighteen generations of your ancestors and grind your bones to dust!”

— “The thing you promised me, you must do it. Otherwise, I will die with my eyes open.”

The two voices merged into one, like a sharp sword stabbing deeply into Ye Fusheng’s chest. His mind buzzed and hummed, and everything before his eyes began to sway and blur until it was all chaos. The right leg ached with a piercing pain. His face instantly turned white, and he unconsciously pressed his hand against his chest — the spot where the brocade pouch and jade pendant were.

“What’s wrong with you?” Xue Chanyi noticed something was off and reached out to support him. Who would have thought that this muddleheaded scoundrel, in his daze, would accidentally grope her waist. Miss Xue’s almond eyes turned stern, and she barely managed not to throw him to the ground.

But the instigator of the crime was still putting on a face of pure and innocent frailty, looking as if he were gravely ill and about to cough up blood: “Cough, cough… I apologize, I can’t see clearly.”

Xue Chanyi ground her teeth and said: “The Clash of Blades Tournament begins in seven days. Over these few days, people from various factions will certainly be arriving in Guyang City, and Duanshui Villa naturally cannot turn away all guests. Since your half-blind eyes don’t work well, just follow little Li closely without a single step apart. And don’t stir up trouble everywhere; you don’t want to offend someone you can’t afford to mess with.”

After hearing this, Ye Fusheng let out a yawn, held out his hands, and said: “In that case, Miss should have someone escort me to the Young Master’s quarters. The night is long, and I am tired.”

Miss Xue felt her hands itching; the long whip at her waist stirred restlessly.

Right at this moment, the sound of horse hooves came from the distance. It seemed a carriage had stopped at the front gate.

At this late hour, in such a perilous, focal-point of trouble.

Xue Chanyi instructed a servant to lead him to the rear courtyard, then hurried toward the front gate to receive the guests herself. Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes. Fortunately, passing through into the inner courtyard required traversing a long corridor, and he borrowed the lantern light under the eaves to glance back. He saw Xue Chanyi hurrying to greet a group of people passing through. The person at the lead was just folding away a paper umbrella, his face conveniently revealed.

He looked very young, yet possessed none of the recklessness or foolishness of a brash youth. His all-black outfit set off his complexion as overly pale. His eyebrows were like blades, his eyes like deep pools, his features devastatingly handsome, and his thin lips were a vivid crimson — resembling a saber that draws blood upon the slightest contact.

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