Chapter 18#

The young man, who had been eavesdropping in the room for a long time, was stunned for a moment when he heard the last sentence. He then hurriedly locked the door from the inside, spread out a cotton quilt on the bed in the corner of the large communal sleeping platform, wrapped himself in it, and turned sideways to pretend to sleep. After about the time it takes to burn two incense sticks, someone began to knock gently on the door, and Yi Xinchou’s voice sounded from outside: “Xiao Fang.”

The young man frowned slightly and wrapped himself tighter in the quilt. Yi Xinchou knocked outside for quite a while, and then a faint sigh came through the crack of the door. The lonely and melancholy mood of women in the world has been described in detail by countless poets and writers. Tear-stained gauze curtains, speckled bamboo, spring shirts, and faded makeup ultimately cannot compare to such a prolonged sigh, sorrowful and euphemistic like spring sorrow provoked by the cool wind, climbing a high tower alone, wanting to speak but stopping.

The young man closed his eyes. This young lady who managed the escort agency and even the external business of the entire Huanzhen Villa had been unusually enthusiastic about him since she picked him up by the river three years ago. She cried and told him one by one about the deepest grudges and infatuations buried in the bones of those young girls. It’s just that if a person falls to the point where, like her, she only dares to speak her heart to a mute… it is inevitably too lonely, too solitary a life.

The clear sound of keys colliding came from outside the door. The young man was startled, but his breathing gradually calmed down, as if he had already fallen asleep peacefully. Aunt Liu, with her head full of gray hair, couldn’t push open the locked door, so she opened the closed window for the woman. Yi Xinchou paused for a moment, jumped in lightly through the window, hesitated for a long time, and then sat next to the young man. She pushed him and sighed softly: “Xiao Fang, let me tell you, today I…”

The young man’s arm stiffened for a moment, feeling hot tears dripping onto his arm. He had begun to get used to this feeling. Since three years ago, the young girl had been like this, often sitting by his bed, sobbing softly—such a clear and refined beauty, such a mediocre and disabled servant. For this, he didn’t know how many beatings, scoldings, and supercilious looks he had suffered.

She began to cry gradually: “Xiao Fang, today, Young Master Ruan knelt down and begged me… but when I think of how he rejected the Young Master like that, I can’t help but hate him…”

The young man pretending to sleep under the quilt remained silent for a long time, but finally reached out his hand and patted the woman’s head. It’s okay, the young man comforted gently with his eyes. Don’t cry, it’s okay.

Three years ago, when the young man was still Hua Jinian, he wore a human skin mask and concealed his identity to venture down the mountain, followed by a group of shadow guards. However, using the excuse of washing his horse by the Bishui River, he took advantage of a moment of negligence by the shadow guards, hugged a large stone by the river, and sank into the water. Holding onto the riverbed, which was as high as two people, he walked holding his breath in the undercurrent. He held on and walked for the time it takes to burn an incense stick before daring to surface for air. The current of the Bishui River was turbulent. Sinking and walking like this, his internal energy was exhausted far faster than he imagined. Soon he was about to run out of oil, while the river roared above his head and the undercurrent surged beneath his feet.

He actually really wanted to know, if he died, what expression his father would have upon learning that his son had never enjoyed a single day of freedom in the Jianghu? Would it still be a careless sneer? It’s just that he didn’t have the chance to verify these various hypotheses. Exhausted by the undercurrent at the bottom of the river, he drifted downstream with the current, struggling in a place only a step away from the shore. In his despair, a soft hand pulled him ashore.

He opened his eyes and saw his own disguised, ordinary, and embarrassed face reflected in the pitch-black eyes of the person who saved him. He remembered the person in front of him, this young girl. She had lied to him, and he had lied to her. It was just that the piece of jade she gave him was still wrapped around his neck, the jade quality warm and moist, the carving smooth. That was when the young man was still high-spirited, this beautiful young girl had reached out her hand: “My name is Yi Xinchou, we will meet again.”

He had almost forgotten her, but he never expected this woman to reach out to him again.

“Do you have nowhere to go? Do you want to follow me? What… is your name?” the young girl asked softly to the person she had just saved.

The young man picked up a branch and wrote on the soft river beach: Fang - Kai -

“Fang Kai? Let go?” the young girl asked with a smile: “What do you want to let go of?”

The young man’s hand holding the branch trembled a little, but he still wrote stroke by stroke: Let - go - of - what - should - not - be - held -

Jumping from one fence to another, flying from one cage to another. Both were old acquaintances. He chose the gentler one, even if it required deeper concealment and thicker disguise. The young man thought, thank you for pulling me. A drop of kindness received should be repaid with a gushing spring.

Later, the young girl often came to him to complain. The first time he saw her cry like that, in a trance, he only felt his sleeves getting wet, and only heard her crying voice in his ears: “Xiao Fang, I once accompanied Young Master Ruan to steal a book… In Futu Fortress, I met…”

Met a young master surnamed Hua.

“To save me, Young Master Ruan was sick to the point of death. Young Master Shen, he…”

Sleepless and restless, guarding day and night.

“How can there be such a wicked person in the world? I was really blind. If I meet him in the future—”

Must kill the enemy with my own hands, cut him into a thousand pieces.

It was a plot the young man knew well, but hearing it from another person’s mouth gave it a different flavor. Everyone has their own fortress, holding high sharp swords for their own justice, wrapped in horse leather… but they don’t know that someone will always get hurt, causing tears to flow on a clear and beautiful face. The young man looked helplessly at the sleeve wet with tears, his mind wandering in the clouds and mist, only to hear the young girl say: “I have a piece of jade at home. My mother said I can only give it to my beloved.”

At that time, the young man trembled and suddenly froze there. The clear and otherworldly young girl held the dusty young man’s sleeve to wipe her tears, crying intermittently: “I gave it to him.” I was really blind.

A piece of jade was tied around another young man’s neck by the young girl’s soft fingertips. If there is destiny, we will definitely meet again.

“I was really blind,” the young girl sobbed. When the young girl’s first complaint finally ended amidst countless sobs, the tear stains were not yet dry, but she finally broke into a smile through her tears and said: “Fortunately, Xiao Fang is here. I dare not tell others. Fortunately, you are here…” Fortunately, I, a mute, am here, unable to reveal your secrets? The young man listened, frowned slightly, and wanted to break free from the bound hand, but the young girl hugged tighter and asked softly: “In the future, can I still come to you to complain?”

The young man was stunned for a moment. He had never thought of staying in one place for a long time. After leaving the fortress, there were many famous mountains and rivers, fairy temples and ancient temples he wanted to visit. He also thought about realizing his previous wish, listening to the temple bell on a solitary boat in the evening, watching the setting sun like blood on an uninhabited mountain range, living incognito, on the ancient road with the west wind, wandering all the way. He wanted to refuse, but felt the heat of the jade hidden against his flesh under layers of clothing. —“I have a piece of jade at home, only for my beloved.”

The young man finally nodded.

Who would have thought that his brilliant strategy would be used to comfort a pool of resentment?

Who would have thought that his fingers, which could write storms, would be used to tend a garden of flowers and trees?

Who would have thought that his bright future would be used to repay a lovesickness?

Who could have thought that Young Master Jinian, who would later be famous in the Jianghu for his fickleness, once silently humbled himself as a servant and stayed for several years for the loneliness of a young girl?

When swords were drawn against each other in the future, everyone only saw him disregarding lovesickness, but they didn’t know that he had already repaid it silently. He couldn’t refuse her, how could he bear to refuse her? He knew it when she got used to crying in front of him. It had nothing to do with owing or not owing. No matter how he pretended to be strong, he was originally a gentle person. Yi Xinchou pulled his sleeve and asked him: “I’m going out for a trip. Xiao Fang, are you willing to follow me?”

He wanted to refuse and was about to shake his head when Yi Xinchou suddenly said loudly and anxiously: “I will… I will protect you. On this escort journey, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” The young man wanted to laugh, but could only look at her quietly. How could the young man not understand her thoughts? Which person of prominent status would truly secretly give her heart to a servant with an ordinary appearance who couldn’t speak? She clung to him, she wanted him to accompany her, she spoke foolishly and softly in front of him, unable to leave for a moment, just because she felt he was like someone.

A woman’s intuition is truly terrifying. However, if Yi Xinchou truly knew that he was not just… not just as simple as resembling the person she liked, if she knew he was that person… all this clinging could be discarded. Swords flashing and shadows of swords, drawing swords against each other, this is the destination and the end.

The young girl’s hand was ultimately different from that man’s, so soft and delicate. He sighed and finally climbed up from the bed. Yi Xinchou knew he had tacitly agreed, so she smiled and hugged this young man who was already a head taller than her from behind… Several servants pushed the door open and entered. Seeing the scene before them, they immediately knelt down in a patch, looking at the woman with a long skirt trailing like a fairy, and shouted in panic: “Miss Yi!” The young man looked sideways and saw surprise, fear, and more of a burning jealousy like fire in those dodging eyes, as if they saw Chang’e in the moon holding a gray rat in her arms—

The young man suddenly laughed.

Beautiful women, like Qiuyi, like Xiasha; young talents, like Shen Pinzhen, like Ruan Xiyu… He was originally one of these favored children of heaven, but now he could only kneel on the hard floor with the servants dressed in earthy yellow cloth. When the escort silver was delivered, the green-clad young man with a pale and stiff face, the pale yellow-clad young man with a handsome and unrestrained demeanor, and the women in white and green stood together like a cluster of flowers, talking softly, their wide sleeves and hems fluttering like divine beings. The young man looked up, what a difference between clouds and mud, so he laughed even more heartily. Enduring for a long time, he could slowly exhale the turbid air in his chest; clutching the dirt tightly until his fingernails bled, he could slowly let go.

Greedy for speed, the escort route chosen was the most secluded shortcut with no travelers. Twenty heavy copper chests were hidden in twenty coffins, carried by flatbed carts. The most experienced escort master dressed up as a corpse driver from Southern Xiang, shaking a copper bell in his hand, walking at the very front with disheveled hair, spraying clear water from his mouth from time to time, taking out handfuls of paper money from his bosom and scattering them as he walked. Whether it was the battle-hardened guards or the martial artists famous in the Jianghu, they all meticulously made themselves up as funeral workers from the charity house, hunchbacked old men, one-eyed men with scarred faces, holding high white banners, and—twenty pitch-black coffins, pressing the wheels to make eerie creaking sounds along the bumpy mountain road. This array scared away countless idlers along the way. Those who still came to provoke were undoubtedly people with intentions.

The young man held a white banner and walked slowly next to a coffin. He had disheveled semi-long black hair, wore a short shirt reaching his knees, and his slender and tight calves were splattered with mud and yellow earth. The coffin next to him was unusually tall and large. If one looked closely, they would find that the coffin and the cart board were nailed together, padded with down and silk inside. Walking on the mountain road, it was flat and stable. If anyone lay inside, the comfort would be no different from a finely crafted carriage.

On this day, after rushing all the way, when the sun slanted slightly and there was finally some coolness in the air, a few knocking sounds came from the coffin next to the young man. Hearing this, everyone let out a breath and sat down on the spot to rest. The young man took out a cold and hard sesame seed cake from his bosom and stuffed it through the crack of the coffin. A sharp-eyed person nearby saw this and couldn’t help scolding: “How can you give Miss this to eat!” He tore off a chicken leg from the roast chicken in his bosom, wrapped it in oil paper, and was about to stuff it into the coffin when a few more knocks came from the coffin, seeming to contain blame. The person then gave up resentfully, put the chicken leg he had handed out back into his mouth, and took a forceful bite.

The place where everyone rested happened to be a concave flat ground. A few old trees with scattered branches and leaves couldn’t block the bright sun overhead. Many martial artists were happy to crawl under the flatbed carts transporting the coffins to enjoy the cool air. Looking from a distance, the scattered white banners and the more than twenty coffins that seemed to be transported by no one exuded a gloomy ghostly aura even in broad daylight.

Just then, a burst of a woman’s soft and charming singing suddenly came from behind the mountain road, like a nether song of a fox demon hooking souls on a lonely and desolate mountain path.

Accompanied by the dense and crisp sound of ankle bells, it sounded like a thunderclap on flat ground to everyone’s ears. The song went:

“The parasol trees wait to grow old together, mandarin ducks will die as a pair;

A chaste woman values dying for her husband, sacrificing life is also like this;

Waves vow not to rise, my heart is like water in a well.”

Such a poem of a chaste woman expressing her will was sung by this person in a tune that was charming to the bone, making everyone feel a layer of chill in their hearts. The escort masters hurriedly crawled out from under the carts, each pressing on the sharp weapons under their clothes, listening to the singing getting closer and closer, nervously guarding.

The young man shook all over, almost unable to hold the white banner. Just at this time, another man’s singing came from the mountain path behind everyone, harmonizing with the woman’s singing:

“Tying hair to become husband and wife, love and trust between the two without doubt;

Joy is in the present and past, do not forget the happy times;

In life we shall return together, in death we shall long for each other forever.”

This singing was refined and affectionate, but came even faster. By the last sentence, it was so clear that it seemed to be within a foot’s distance from everyone.

With three muffled sounds from the coffin, the escort masters shouted at the same time, drew their swords, centered on the coffin, divided into two groups, back to back, simultaneously guarding against the directions from which these two songs came.

In a moment, on the mountain road in front, a beautiful woman with heavy makeup and a red skirt stood prettily. Behind them, unexpectedly, a handsome man dressed as a Taoist priest bowed to them leisurely.

The leading escort master trembled and said hoarsely: “‘Master of Disguise’ Su Meiniang! And… ‘Taoist in the Flowers’ Wu Qiuping!”

The Taoist priest smiled: “You all must be tired from the journey. This poor Taoist pays his respects.”

The woman bit a corner of her silk handkerchief with her sandalwood mouth and shell-like teeth, giggling incessantly, panting charmingly and saying: “These millions of taels of yellow and white things. This slave… this slave misses them tightly.”