Master Lingyun’s voice was clear and ringing, carrying an innate weight of authority as it rose slowly through the quiet room.
“I took Chi Fengxue as my disciple. It has nothing to do with Shen Yujing.”
It landed like a spring thunderclap.
Fengxue’s eyes went wide as she stared at the man in astonishment.
Master Lingyun walked closer at an unhurried pace, the light behind him gradually fading, and a youthful face came into view for everyone present. He gave Fengxue a nod, then looked past the crowd toward the Sect Head. “Senior Brother.”
They had been fellow disciples for a hundred years, and Sect Head Li Xuanwei understood at once: there was something important to discuss.
Most likely it was the matter of the Myriad Demon Den again.
Everyone knew the Den held countless demons and vicious ghosts pinned down beneath it, and that if those ghosts ever got out into the world it would be a catastrophe for humankind. But few ever stopped to wonder where these demons, ghosts, and creeping horrors came from in the first place.
They were born of people.
A human being could become an immortal, or be raised into a god, and could just as easily turn into a monster or a ghost, or give rise to a great demon in some corner of the world.
In recent years the world had slipped further into chaos. The mortal realm knew no peace: droughts, famines, wars, banditry. The common people could not make a living, and corpses of the starved lay everywhere.
The more people died, the heavier the resentment that pooled in the mortal world, and out of it crawled every sort of specter, monster, and ghost.
Resentment and injustice, if heavy enough, could turn a person into a vengeful ghost and drag a god down into a fiend.
There had once been a water snake coiled in a river that cultivated for five hundred years and became a jiao [1]a type of horned Chinese river-dragon, a step below a true dragon jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_1').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_1', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });. It received offerings from the people on both banks, took in their incense smoke, and became the local “River God.”
It guarded the region and kept it at peace, and after a thousand years, just as it was on the verge of becoming a true dragon, war swept through the mortal world. An enemy army broke the city gates and began slaughtering the population. The river ran red with blood, firelight flickering across its surface, mutilated bodies drifting past one after another.
And the great serpent went mad.
It ascended amid the blood and death of its own worshippers and became a monstrous dragon whose rising turned heaven and earth a different color. After killing the soldiers who had sacked the city, it went on to work countless slaughters of its own, adding one more thick smear of blood to a broken age.
Word was that there was now a sect of evil cultivators calling themselves the White Flower Cult, gathering followers throughout the mortal world on a grand scale, refining monsters and refining ghosts.
Could that fissure from the Demon Den that opened on Ten-Li Street have been their work?
Having heard what Fengxue and the others went through, Li Xuanwei had no attention to spare for the gossip the disciples were trading, questions like “who really saved Shen Yujing” and “who is the woman Shen Yujing loves,” the sort of thing that only gave an old Daoist a headache.
He inclined his head and said to Master Lingyun, “Junior Brother, let us speak outside.”
The two men left the quiet room. The others offered Shen Yujing a few words of concern and then filed out as well. The little princess, who had been trembling with fright under Master Lingyun’s aura, recovered her nerve, shot Fengxue a vicious glare, declared grandly, “Just you wait, I am not going to lose to you,” and then ran off in a hurry too.
Only Fengxue and Shen Yujing were left in the room, with nothing to say to one another.
Shen Yujing propped himself up, covered his lips, and coughed a few times, exhaustion written all over his face.
Fengxue said, “Senior Brother Shen, rest well.”
Shen Yujing lowered his hand and said quietly, “Junior Sister, I truly don’t remember…”
Fengxue cut him off, smiling. “Then don’t remember it. As I said, they weren’t good memories. Better to forget.”
Shen Yujing looked at her. “Ah Xue, are you angry?”
Once, all it took was for him to call her Ah Xue, and the girl’s whole face would light up as she came rushing over.
But now she took a step back, her eyes lowered, and said with polite distance, “Senior Brother, get plenty of rest. I won’t disturb you any longer.”
Shen Yujing watched in silence as she turned on her heel without hesitation and left.
Once she was out the door, she stopped for a moment at the railing, looking out at the clouds and mist blanketing the mountain.
A mountain wind rose suddenly, filling the girl’s green sleeves and robe.
In that instant, Shen Yujing found himself thinking that she looked like a bird flying free.
Something tugged hard at his heart. His expression didn’t change as he looked away.
”””
Since breaking off the engagement, Fengxue felt as though a stone had been lifted off her chest. She was so light she walked faster than usual.
The mountain path was slick, the moss freshly green, and clear sunlight filtered through the gauze-thin mist to spill over her. She gathered her breath and leapt, her shadow rising and falling along the cliff face.
Her mood was wonderful.
Right up until she ran into a few people on a road too narrow to avoid them.
Ahead lay a stretch of plank walkway wide enough for only one person, with a sheer drop of thousands of feet beside it. The wind pulled at the clouds, and the walkway seemed to churn in the mist.
A girl in white stood at the far end, her sash streaming in the wind, ethereal as an immortal. Two tall, powerfully built youths flanked her as guards.
Cultivators had good eyesight, Fengxue recognized them at once, Feng Fuliu and her two “guards.”
The guards were a pair of brothers named Yi Qiuyi and Yi Cun’er.
So Feng Fuliu really did climb this treacherous peak every single day to look after Shen Yujing.
Tch.
Seeing that they weren’t coming across, Fengxue tucked her hands into her sleeves and strolled onto the walkway.
When she reached the middle, the “guard” brothers stepped onto the planks too. As they walked, they spoke loudly. “Aiyo, Brother, I heard a story the other day.”
Yi Qiuyi played the straight man. “Oh? What story?”
“They say there’s this fool who goes around blabbing to everyone that she saved a man out of the Demon Den with nothing but a sword in her hand.”
Yi Qiuyi snorted. “Heh. Ain’t that a joke.”
“Sure is. And guess why she’d tell a lie like that?”
“Why’s that?”
“Cause she likes the man. She figures if she’s the one who saved the young gentleman’s life, then it’ll go just like in those mortal storybooks, he’ll have to marry her to repay the debt.”
“Pffft—”
“You laughing? You laughing at me?”
“Brother, ain’t that just plain stupid? That young gentleman’s no fickle scholar out of some mortal tale, he’s a Daoist of the mountains! Ain’t that batting your lashes at a blind man [2]wasting your charms on someone who can’t even see them jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_2').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_2', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, flattering yourself for nothing?”
“Hah, besides, an immortal maiden from on high saved that Daoist ages ago. A talented man and a beautiful woman, made for each other [3]a well-matched couple jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_3').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_3', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });. Why would a Daoist ever look twice at some lying clown?”
Fengxue came to a stop in front of them.
The two youths immediately tensed, blocking her path like a pair of stubborn boulders.
Fengxue raised an eyebrow. “Not moving?”
Privately, Yi Qiuyi found it odd. In the past, the moment the girl heard them sneering like this she’d have drawn her sword and charged in a fury. She had a huge temper and very little skill, she lost every time, and every time she drew anyway.
A hundred battles, a hundred defeats, and a hundred defeats, a hundred more battles.
He never could tell whether it was lonely courage or sheer idiocy.
But today she hadn’t attacked at once.
Under the girl’s bright gaze, Yi Qiuyi found himself faintly embarrassed and turned his face away.
Yi Cun’er said angrily, “Do you still not understand? Junior Sister Fuliu was the one who saved Senior Brother Shen. If she hadn’t spent her own spiritual power to keep him alive, he’d never have made it back to Qingming Mountain at all. So stop flattering yourself—”
Fengxue said, “So. Are you moving aside, or not?”
The youths froze where they stood. Before they could react, they saw her hand close on her sword hilt as she suddenly launched herself upward, her green robe snapping in the wind like a bird of brilliant jade.
All they glimpsed was a streak of green afterimage rushing at them, the mountain wind turned bitter, and then came a splitting pain at the back of the skull, and everything went black.
Fengxue leapt with practiced ease, swung, and slammed the scabbard into the back of each stubborn boulder’s head, then twisted in midair and kicked off, leaving two neat prints of yellow mud on their backsides.
The pair staggered helplessly forward, tumbled off the walkway, and dropped toward the abyss.
Clouds rushed up at them, and the youths screamed in terror.
Just as they shut their eyes, certain they were about to be mashed into pulp, a hand caught each of them lightly by the collar.
Fengxue hung the two of them up on the cliff in a tidy row.
“Aaaah—!”
Their panicked cries went echoing around the cliffside.
Fengxue looked toward the girl at the far end of the walkway and strode over.
Feng Fuliu instinctively retreated, her body trembling faintly.
Her back met the cold cliff stone. Her eyes rimmed red, she pleaded in a soft, delicate voice, “Senior Sister Fengxue, please let them down. They’re reckless and they don’t know any better. You’re a big person with a big heart [4]be generous and let it go jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_4').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_4', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, don’t hold it against them.”
“A big heart?” Fengxue’s mouth curved, her smile amused. “Junior Sister, I’m not that big a person.”
She made as if to draw her sword.
The youths dangling from the cliff shouted, “Hey! Don’t you dare hurt Junior Sister Feng!”
Fengxue: …
She drew the sword with an easy, offhand motion, but the blade showed not the least glint of an edge.
It was an ordinary wooden sword.
“My broken sword was lost a while back,” she said, giving the peachwood blade a shake and baring her teeth at Feng Fuliu in what she genuinely believed was an amiable smile. “Junior Sister has seen it before, though, hasn’t she?”
The broken sword with which she had killed countless demons had gone missing just before she fell off the cliff, it should have been lying right beside the unconscious Shen Yujing. The strange part was that in her past life she had turned over every inch of those deep mountains and old forests, and even used a locating technique, and never found it.
Feng Fuliu shivered. She bit her whitening lip and said unsteadily, “I really haven’t.”
Fengxue took a step forward, studying her with cold eyes.
Feng Fuliu pressed back against the stone wall, trembling harder.
The two flower-guarding champions hanging off the cliff couldn’t help shrieking and hollering, terrified that Fengxue would kick their fragile junior sister off the mountain too.
Fengxue let the chill drain out of her eyes and broke into a radiant smile.
A smile like a bright moon and a clear breeze.
“It’s all right, Junior Sister,” she said gently. “The old has to go before the new can come [5]losing something makes room for something better jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_5').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_5', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });. Consider that broken sword my congratulatory gift to the two of you.”
And she meant every word of it. “I’ve already ended my engagement with Shen Yujing. May you grow old together, white hair and all [6]a wish for a long, happy marriage jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_6').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_6', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });.”
They were words of blessing, plain and simple, and yet Feng Fuliu seemed even more frightened than before, looking at her the way one looks at some raging flood or savage beast.
So Fengxue stepped back and gave her room to breathe.
She studied the girl in front of her without looking away. Feng Fuliu was pure and lovely, exactly as her name suggested: delicate as a willow bending in the wind.
But in her past life, when she had lain on the ground and looked up, the Immortal Maiden Fuliu standing shoulder to shoulder with Shen Yujing had been able to play the qin as battle support and face demons from all eight directions alone.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
In that other life, after she left the mountain, had Feng Fuliu become their Master’s personal disciple?
Fengxue couldn’t quite remember.
After she fell to demonhood, she had spent most of her time in a fog, her mind dulled by the effort of suppressing the resentment inside her. Moments of clarity were rare, and she had little idea how the mortal world had changed.
Now she smiled, her eyes crinkling, and remarked with genuine feeling, “If Junior Sister became Master’s disciple, perhaps that would suit him better.”
At the very least, a peerless genius like her Master wouldn’t have to keep trying to comprehend the stupidity of an idiot, or come down the mountain himself to hunt down sword manuals for an idiot student.
Feng Fuliu’s eyes went round. Her gaze roamed over Fengxue’s face for a long while before she asked softly, “Senior Sister, don’t you hate me?”
Fengxue nodded frankly. “I do. I hate you, because you lied.”
Feng Fuliu’s expression stiffened.
Fengxue spread her hands. “I did consider whether to beat you up and force the truth out of you.”
Well, in her past life she really had given her junior sister a solid thrashing, demanding to know why she wouldn’t tell the truth, why she had hidden that broken blade.
And then the Hall of Discipline had punished her with thirty lashes.
Living it over again, remembering all that struck her as rather funny.
“But never mind. Shen Yujing isn’t some sweet steamed bun or juicy bone [7]a prize everyone’s fighting over jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_7').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_7', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, and you really did save him…” Her voice dropped. “And whatever else is true, the fellow disciples who died aren’t coming back.”
“Anyway. The two of you go bind your vows and chase your immortal destiny, I’ll walk my own road through the mortal world.” She turned, leaving behind a carefree view of her back. “Junior Sister, may your journey soar ten thousand li [8]may you go far and rise high jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_8').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_8', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });, and may you get everything you wish for!”
Feng Fuliu stared blankly after Fengxue, watching her move steadily away until the mountain mist had nearly swallowed her figure. For reasons she couldn’t name, she took a few steps forward herself, hurrying after her, and called softly, “Senior Sister…”
Fengxue stopped. “Was there something else?”
Feng Fuliu’s voice was soft as a mountain breeze brushing tender spring branches. “I have a sword. I’d like to give it to you.”
Fengxue turned back and saw the beauty standing in the mist, a long sword held out in both hands.
She took it and pulled the blade free with a rasp. At the sight of that frost-white gleam, she said admiringly, “A fine sword.”
Feng Fuliu said quietly, “This sword is called Fuwei, ‘Succor.’ It was left behind by a… swordsman. But I’m not skilled in the way of the sword. I thought that in your hands, Senior Sister, it might recover the glory it once had.”
Fengxue laughed. “Don’t set my hat too high [9]don’t flatter me jQuery('#footnote_plugin_tooltip_2991334_1_9').tooltip({ tip: '#footnote_plugin_tooltip_text_2991334_1_9', tipClass: 'footnote_tooltip', effect: 'fade', predelay: 0, fadeInSpeed: 200, delay: 400, fadeOutSpeed: 200, position: 'top center', relative: true, offset: [-7, 0], });. Its glory isn’t coming back. Although if I carry it around skewering fish and roasting rabbits, maybe it’ll get a little more fragrant.”
Feng Fuliu bit her lip.
Fengxue spun the sword in a flourish, held it level before her chest, and flicked the blade with a finger.
‘Zheng—’
The snow-white tip quivered, giving off a clear sword-cry.
A fine sword indeed.
The corners of Fengxue’s mouth lifted. Through the ringing, she heard Feng Fuliu softly call her Senior Sister again. She raised her eyes, the girl opposite seemed to want to speak and not dare to, and after a long pause finally did.
She sounded as if she were sincerely offering advice, or perhaps just lamenting. “As unbending as you are, refusing ever to lower your head, no one will ever cherish you.”
The bright light of the blade reflected in Fengxue’s eyes as she said, smiling, “Why would I need anyone to cherish me?”
Feng Fuliu was taken aback.
“Besides—” Fengxue puffed out her chest, a look of sudden smugness crossing her face. “My mother and father will definitely cherish me!”
Feng Fuliu’s body swayed slightly. Her reddened eyes blinked, and then, of all things, two lines of clear tears rolled down.
Fengxue: Huh?
She distinctly remembered that in her last life Feng Fuliu hadn’t cried even when Fengxue beat her up. Now that she wasn’t hitting anyone, what was her junior sister crying for?
References[+]