SS CH9

The Manor Lord of Duanshui Manor, appearing in the forbidden grounds of Duanshui Manor, was naturally beyond reproach.

What gave Ye Fusheng a headache right now was that the look in this Manor Lord) Xie’s eyes held no surprise or doubt; rather, it was as cold and sharp as a dao (saber). This indicated that he had already learned of Ye Fusheng’s background from Xue Chanyi, and it also made his lack of trust blatantly clear.

“Ye… Fusheng?” Xie Wuyi slowly called out his name, his thin lips curving into a delicate, sharp edge. “How is the Young Manor Lord?”

“The Young Manor Lord) has an auspicious star shining high above him; he suffered a shock but no dang—” Before Ye Fusheng could finish his sentence, he saw Xie Wuyi flip his wrist. A tongue of flame caught the paper pasted on the outside of the lantern, and in an instant, it ignited, flying straight at Ye Fusheng’s face like a fireball.

The blade of the Duanshui Manor Lord was as fast as a startling thunderbolt. This opening strike was naturally extraordinary. The moment Ye Fusheng stepped back to dodge the flames, Xie Wuyi was already beside him. A hand with distinct bones and sinews clamped down on his right shoulder. With a sudden burst and sinking of jin (martial power), he forced Ye Fusheng’s right leg—which was already lacking strength—to instantly buckle at the knee.

Just as Ye Fusheng’s knee was about to hit the ground, Xie Wuyi suddenly felt the resistance beneath his hand vanish. The man slipped out of his grasp like a slippery loach. With a cold sneer, Xie Wuyi closed the distance once more. The extension and retraction of his hands and feet flowed like a long, continuous stream of water—soft, flexible, and pliable—making Ye Fusheng feel as though a water snake had coiled tightly around his body, making it incredibly difficult to break free.

Circling behind Ye Fusheng, Xie Wuyi clamped one hand back-handedly over his throat and stomped one foot against the crook of his leg. Just as victory seemed decided, Ye Fusheng suddenly thrust a finger against Xie Wuyi’s wrist. A surge of neigong (internal energy) exploded within the joint, sending a bone-deep, agonizing pain shooting through him. Xie Wuyi’s face went pale. In that split second, Ye Fusheng folded his body and slid smoothly out of his shackles.

The entire exchange happened as fast as a rabbit dodging and a falcon swooping. Only now did the burning paper lantern hit the ground, its embers still glowing.

Xie Wuyi naturally looked awful, but Ye Fusheng wasn’t much better off either.

He reached a hand up to feel his chest. The brocade pouch that had been tucked inside his robes had been snatched away by Xie Wuyi the very moment he broke free.

Xie Wuyi toyed with the brocade pouch in his hand and said faintly, “Good finger techniques, good qinggong… good skills!”

“The same goes for the Manor Lord. These three soft moves deeply grasped the essence of the ‘Entangle’ formula of the Duanshui Daofa (Water-Severing Saber Art). This lowly one is far beyond reach. However…” Ye Fusheng took a step forward. “That item was left to me by an old friend. I ask that the Manor Lord return it.”

“Return it? What is there in Duanshui Manor that I cannot take?” Xie Wuyi laughed coldly. He extracted that square jade pendant from the brocade pouch. It was a piece of flawless white mutton-fat jade. Carved onto the back was a miniature landscape of Wanghaichao, while the front bore a single, sharp, imposing character: “Xie” (謝).

Xie Wuyi’s fingers traced over the carved character inch by inch, his voice low, hoarse, and chilling: “This is the token of the Manor Lord of Duanshui Manor across every generation. Unfortunately, it was lost three years ago. I must ask you—exactly how did you come to possess it!?”

Seeing this, Ye Fusheng didn’t show the slightest hint of fear. Instead, he reached his hand out even more self-righteously to demand it back: “I already told you it was left by an old friend. Naturally… I got it from a dead man’s hands.”

He said this casually, yet Xie Wuyi’s body violently shuddered!

He was like a towering, ancient tree that had proudly withstood wind and frost for ages. Even though his entire body was covered in the scars of hacking blades and chopping axes, he still stood upright, supporting heaven and earth. Yet, at this very moment, his body swayed, as if he had begun to die straight from the roots, tottering and on the verge of collapse.

All the blood drained from his face. He unconsciously took two steps back, his fingers digging tightly into that piece of jade, muttering, “A dead… dead man?”

As he spoke, an uncontrollable fit of coughing seized him, and a sickly, flushed red surfaced on his face.

Xie Wuyi’s health had been poor for the past three years. This coughing fit made him tremble like a sieve. His spine bowed into a line that looked ready to snap at any second, yet right at the breaking point, he slowly straightened back up.

Ye Fusheng looked at him and said, “Yes. The man who gave me this jade is already dead.”

Before the words had even fully fallen, Ye Fusheng drew back and retreated, narrowly dodging a thunderous palm strike from Xie Wuyi. This time, it was no longer a test. The Duanshui Manor Lord struck with his palm formed like a blade. Even though he didn’t touch him in the slightest, the sharp, overbearing daoqi (blade aura) had already sliced open the top layer of skin on Ye Fusheng’s neck, revealing a thin, shallow line of red.

Right at that moment, a dark shadow drifted out like a phantom upon the water. One fist met Xie Wuyi’s incoming follow-up palm strike, while the other hand scooped up Ye Fusheng’s body and swiftly swept backward, landing firmly before turning around.

This sudden variable caused Xie Wuyi to instantly calm down. He pulled a fire folder from his sleeve, blew it to life, and lit the lamp on the wall. Only then did he clearly see the newcomer’s face, prompting him to straighten his sleeves. “Gongzi Chu.”

“So it’s Manor Lord Xie.” Chu Xiwei currently couldn’t see, so he merely turned his head slightly in his direction. Just moments ago, he and Xie Li had been waiting on the other side of the Dragon-Severing Stone as instructed, but Ye Fusheng, who had gone ahead to scout, had not returned for a long time. Relying on his profound neigong, Chu Xiwei heard the sounds of a fight coming from the other side of the stone crevice, so he tossed Xie Li aside and felt his way over to watch the excitement.

He let go of Ye Fusheng and smiled. “We’re even now.”

He was referring to the time Ye Fusheng helped him in the puppet room. Seeing how the wheel of fortune had turned so quickly, Ye Fusheng rolled his eyes and asked, “Where is the Young Manor Lord?”

Chu Xiwei didn’t answer him. Ye Fusheng’s ears twitched, and he heard the rustling sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Xie Li walked out from the stone crevice. The moment he saw Xie Wuyi, he immediately stood up straight and obediently called out, “Father.”

From what Ye Fusheng’s own ears could discern, the way he called “Father” was as solemn and formal as a minister bowing to an emperor. He didn’t hear much intimacy, only strict obedience to the rules.

After calling out “Father,” Xie Li raised both hands, holding the Duanshui Dao half a foot above his head. Xie Wuyi’s face was as dark and sinking as water. He walked over, grabbed the blade with one hand, and with the other hand—carrying the force of the wind—delivered a vicious slap to his face.

Pa—

This slap was incredibly ruthless. Xie Li’s face was instantly knocked to the side, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground. He managed to barely steady himself. A bright red handprint surfaced on his pale little face, swelling up at a speed visible to the naked eye. The young boy’s eyes filled with watery tears, but he forcibly held every single drop back.

Ye Fusheng and Chu Xiwei both frowned. Gripping the Duanshui Dao, Xie Wuyi looked down at Xie Li from a dominant height, his voice ice-cold: “Do you know why I hit you?”

Xie Li shook his head. He peeked up at his father, his eyes filled with both stubbornness and grievance.

“As a person, one must know how to advance and retreat with propriety, and how to judge the situation. One must absolutely not be short-sighted and lose the greater goal for a minor gain. Have I not told you this?” Xie Wuyi clenched his fingers into a fist. “Who told you to go chasing after the blade thief on your own authority? Who gave you the courage to dangerously climb Wanghaichao? Who taught you not to understand how to discard a blade to save your own life when death is staring you in the face!?”

“But you said that weapons are a martial artist’s hands and feet, and the Duanshui Dao belongs to Duanshui Manor…”

He wasn’t able to finish talking back. There was another Pa sound. Ye Fusheng couldn’t help but cover his face with one hand, unable to bear the sight.

“Although these methods are a bit rough, I have to say… this brat really needed a beating.” He hid his face behind his sleeve and whispered quietly to Chu Xiwei, “The kid isn’t even a few inches taller than the blade, yet he dared to overreach and play with his life. If this were my son or my disciple, I’d beat him until he knelt down and wrote ‘I will never dare do this again’.”

Chu Xiwei: “…”

He unconsciously rubbed his own face, the corner of his mouth twitching, as if he had just recalled some unbearable memory from the past.

With another slap landing, the other half of Xie Li’s face also turned red. He was beaten into a daze, staring blankly at Xie Wuyi.

“That’s right. The Duanshui Dao is the responsibility of the Duanshui Manor Lord. Naturally, it is something you must shoulder sooner or later. However…” Xie Wuyi slowly squatted down, looking directly into his eyes. “I am still alive. When is it your turn to throw your life away?”

“But…”

“Or perhaps, you’ve also listened to those Jianghu rumors and think that I am already a cripple, unfit to be the Manor Lord, unfit to hold this blade, and that a little child like you needs to step up and carry the main beam for me!?”

Xie Li frantically shook his head like a rattle-drum, his eyes completely red. “Father… I didn’t. Father, I didn’t…”

Looking at him, a rare, faint smile actually graced Xie Wuyi’s cold and indifferent face. His gaze grew deep and distant. With his free hand, he wiped away the boy’s tears and said, “Then remember this: before I die, you only need to learn how to grow up. As for after I die… everything that I shoulder will belong to you. When that time comes, you are not allowed to run, and you cannot avoid it.”

Xie Li finally couldn’t hold it back any longer and began to cry. He had always been a well-behaved child; even when he was a baby in swaddling clothes, he rarely cried or fussed. But right now, he couldn’t help but throw his arms around Xie Wuyi’s neck, crying until his tears and snot flowed freely.

Xie Wuyi let out a heavy sigh. In that moment, it was as if all the youthful vigor of his life had been completely shed, revealing a rare and profound exhaustion and aging. But it only lasted for a fleeting second. When he picked Xie Li up and turned back around, he had once again become that cold, hard, and indifferent Duanshui Manor Lord.

He said to Chu Xiwei, “Gongzi Chu, I accept that transaction. Please relay to Mister Sun that Xie’s mind is made up. Tonight, I will begin pulling the needles and breaking the seal.”

Pulling the needles and breaking the seal?

Ye Fusheng frowned. He had some doubts, but he didn’t ask anything.

“This is truly… an unexpected answer.” Chu Xiwei stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “There is only one chance. The Manor Lord should consider this carefully.”

Xie Wuyi replied, “There is no need to consider. I thank the Gongzi for your assistance. After the Assembly, the Duanshui Dao will be handed over to you. However…”

Chu Xiwei was intrigued. “However, what?”

“Once Ah-Li reaches the age of Jiguan (twenty, adulthood), he will definitely come to you to reclaim the Duanshui Dao. At that time, I ask that the Gongzi offer him some convenience.”

Xie Li shuddered. He looked at his father in terror, unable to understand what profound meaning was hidden behind those words. He only felt that in this brief moment, a weight as heavy as Mount Tai had pressed down upon him.

Chu Xiwei froze for a moment, then laughed. “If he has the capability, he may come and take it!”

“Many thanks.” Holding Xie Li, Xie Wuyi’s face revealed a rare trace of vitality under the candlelight, and even his eyes shone with brilliant splendor.

Looking at him, Ye Fusheng felt as if he were watching a candle stub about to burn out, suddenly reignited by the eastern wind, using the very last of its life to burn with a dazzling, brilliant light at the end of its road.

He had heard that this Duanshui Manor Lord original name was Xie Min. Min meant a beautiful jade-like stone; taking this as a name signified that a gentleman should be like jade. However, because this man walked the path of the martial arts, and had always admired the generous and heroic spirit of the soldiers at the distant borders, he chose “Wuyi” (Without Clothes) as his courtesy name.

The man was like beautiful jade, and his blade was like stubborn stone; jade cannot be destroyed, and stone cannot be moved.

It was just a pity… Human life is not like gold or stone; how can one expect longevity and a ripe old age?

Xie Wuyi led them, walking out from the darkness and back into the light, as if a whole lifetime had passed.

Note: “Human life is not like gold or stone; how can one expect longevity and a ripe old age?” is drawn from the Han Dynasty poem Turning the Carriage to Journey Afar from the Nineteen Old Poems. The lines reflect on the fragility of human life compared to enduring metals and stones.

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