Chapter 22#

Cui’er looked at Hua Qianjue and said, “You think Jinian likes me, so you want him to forget his feelings, right?”

Hua Qianjue raised an eyebrow and said fiercely, “Naturally he likes you! He said you are much more important than others. That time when he persuaded you to offer yourself, I was listening from the side and heard everything! Truly hateful. I have to make him give up on you, that’s why I promoted you to the main wife so grandly. I knew he would definitely be sad. Sure enough, he got drunk that night, and even… even when he was masturbating, he didn’t forget to call my name and curse me fiercely. Since his admiration for you is so bitter, I made him practice the Flower Heart Mantra to forget the bitterness of admiring you and make him feel better. Could this be wrong?”

He could never forget the young man’s somewhat angry words three years ago: The man asked him at that time, where is the maid who takes care of you, why isn’t she watching you. The young man smiled and said, she married you.

He was acting out of pique, he was complaining. Hua Qianjue clearly heard the complaining tone in this answer. Anyone would complain and act out of pique when the person they admire marries someone else. But if this admiration was so heavy that it made him leave without a word, then what’s wrong with making him feel better? On the second night of drunkenness, when he saw the young man masturbating, he had scolded the young man angrily: Why are you so good-for-nothing! Is it me who is despising you, or are you despising yourself! Behind these words, there was actually one sentence missing—it’s just a woman, is she worth your…

Cui’er bit her lower lip tightly. She knew the man had misunderstood something, but she would never tell him personally, whether for her own admiration that was forcibly ended by the man, or for the hatred of the deceased. She just kept smiling as if crying: “Let this matter be as the Fortress Master wishes.” There were faint tears in the corners of her eyes. At this moment, no one knew what kind of burden she was carrying, heavy enough to press the traces of years like scars on her gentle and soft face, painful enough to make this woman, who was soft on the outside but strong on the inside, wish for death.

She looked at the man. Even if the man himself didn’t know, others could understand how much he had changed—at this moment, his gentle gaze was already like a kind and strict father—she swore in a low voice in her heart, I will never tell you who Jinian truly admires in his heart, nor will I tell you how sad this child is in his heart when you personally forced him to learn the kung fu of cutting off love and affection—

Of course, she wouldn’t tell the child either, telling him: Look, your father is really a useless person… cold face but warm heart. Even if he dispersed his kung fu for you, his temperament is still the same as before, cold and hard, holding everything back and not saying anything. Look, you still haven’t realized that he has actually started to treat you well. You don’t even know that he is actually doting on you, and in what clumsy and self-righteous way he is doting on you…

Each other, a lifetime… you chase and I hide, you hide and I chase, just one step away, and will never know! How funny!

Could it be that the world is really so cruel? The person who came into the dream at night, wearing auspicious clothes and a red veil on the head, sighed softly: In this life and this world, I wish for mutual love. But unexpectedly, the situation in front of us is also a kind of mutual love: the man dotes on him, he loves the man, the wish has come true, but it is more than thousands of miles away from the love of mutual respect and growing old together, the love of eternal and unchanging fidelity—

But who can be blamed? No matter how imaginative the man is, how can he see through who went to Wushan with him that day, how can he see through the young man’s most obscure thoughts, how can he see through the most disgusting romance and admiration in this Futu Fortress. How could he imagine that the young man actually loves him—refusing to kneel to him, always quarreling with him, fighting and arguing with him, having many opinions about him, crying secretly after seeing him, clamoring to tell him never to see each other again—how would he know that these behaviors are actually the young man’s admiration—yes, admiration, this thing is like a green and fragrant fruit still on the branch, but twisted and ripened into a deformed poisonous fruit by a bout of lovemaking.

Cui’er’s thin shoulders trembled incessantly, hundreds of resentful thoughts, hundreds of cursed words, and a few points of deeply engraved memories and grief turned in her heart. Her resentment, the man might not be unaware of, but he just reached out to touch Hua Jinian’s hair on his own, murmuring with a smile: “My son.”

The wind passed, the trees swayed, the ring pendants rang lightly, and the three of them disappeared without a trace, their lightness skills so superb, as if they had vanished from Huanzhen Villa out of thin air. Coming and going without a trace.

Shen Pinzhen was alone in the night, holding a lantern, standing at the place where the spy fell dead, which was by the window of the outer wall of a servant’s room. He reached out and moved the spy’s body away, and saw a large Buddha image drawn on the base of the wall with a special medicinal juice prepared in the villa, emitting a faint fluorescence only in the pitch-black night at this moment.

Shen Pinzhen sighed: “There are always such people who think that after silencing the witness, they are too lazy to check again.”

As he spoke, he reached out and touched the portrait of the big Buddha on the wall, stroking it inch by inch with his fingertips, and at the same time, whispered word by word: “Futu—Fortress? It really is a… big Buddha.”

When Hua Jinian woke up, he saw himself sleeping on a luxurious big bed. It was a top-class guest room, with lingering ambergris burning in the gold censer, bed curtains and bedding outlined with gold threads, and the floor shining like a mirror. He struggled to sit half up, staring blankly at the extremely complicated carvings on the tables and chairs for a while.

A gold basin filled with clear water was placed on the low stool in front of the bed, with a snow-white Suzhou embroidery square handkerchief resting on the edge of the basin. A set of white brocade luxurious clothes was neatly placed by the bed. Hua Jinian shook his head vigorously, trying to drive away the discomfort of his acupoints being controlled for a long time. He got out of bed, dipped the square handkerchief in water, wiped his face carefully, and then reached out to peel off a thin mask.

The clear water in the basin reflected a pale and handsome face. Three years of youth had ground out some heroic edges on this face. This face, hidden behind the sunlight for years, revealed a nearly transparent sickly pallor, which set off his long eyebrows like ink even more. Even if pale, his impeccable features could still move any woman.

The square handkerchief was dipped in clear water again. Hua Jinian rubbed this face that was about to become unfamiliar vigorously until his cheeks had a slight bloody color. He took off the rough and vulgar servant clothes, put on the silk brocade robe, and then put on a pair of dragon skin boots in front of the bed. He tied his hair high into a strand with a white silk ribbon, completely bidding farewell to the secluded past of living incognito. The exquisite silk slid against his skin, bringing out a soft and cold silky texture, but he felt strange and uncomfortable.

The warm room was slightly fragrant. Hua Jinian closed his eyes and thought for a while, pushed open the carved door with both hands, and in a trance saw dozens of beautiful maids bowing gracefully in front of the door. The corridors and stairs he walked on were covered with expensive pulu carpets, sprinkled with fresh and fragrant petals, which were crushed into flower mud under the young man’s advancing steps.

Glazed eaves tiles, crystal lamps, parasol wood beams. Just an ordinary branch exhausted several lifetimes of luxury. The man in the black robe and vermilion crown sat upright in the high hall, the wonderful tea in the tea cup in his hand steaming. The man lowered his eyes, sipped tea, gently wiped the water vapor on the rim of the cup with the lid, and then opened his mouth to ask: “Why didn’t you sleep a little longer?”

Hua Jinian chuckled a few times before replying: “High bed and soft pillow, long unaccustomed.”

Hua Qianjue raised his eyebrows to look at him and laughed low: “Unaccustomed? That’s best. You and I will be in seclusion for a month, sleeping on sand and pillows of stone, dining on wind and drinking dew. What I fear is that you will be reluctant to leave the high bed and soft pillow.” As he spoke, he walked down from the high chair. He took a step forward, and the young man took a step back. The man couldn’t help frowning: “What are you retreating for?”

Hua Jinian knelt down respectfully and whispered: “Jinian is terrified.”

Hua Qianjue laughed loudly: “Hypocritical fellow!” He strode forward, reached out to lift the young man’s face, his calloused fingertips rubbing against the delicate skin. He looked at the young man’s eyes, quiet as a cold pool, and suddenly whispered: “Stand up, let me see if you have really grown up.”

The young man smiled, walked on his knees and took another step back, repeating: “Jinian is terrified.”

The man’s sword eyebrows stood erect, glaring at him angrily for a while, and scolded sternly: “Useless thing! In front of me, you are either disrespectful or have a dead face!” The young man looked up at him with a low laugh and said word by word: “Jinian…”

The man laughed and scolded: “Terrified my ass!” He lifted the young man by the collar, strode out of the branch, and saw two saddled fine horses ready under the shade of willows. So he raised his hand and threw the young man onto the horse’s back, flew onto the other one himself, clamped the horse’s belly, and rushed forward.

Hua Jinian turned around in the air and sat steadily on the saddle. Without needing to be ordered, the fine horse under him began to run closely following that one. Even if he pulled the reins hard, he couldn’t stop its pace of following. The young man sneered, simply stretched out his palm and patted the horse’s buttocks hard a few times, urging the fine horse to lead the way. The path gradually became deep with woods, dappled with tree shadows, and rarely visited by people. He had only been free for the time of half a cup of tea when the fine horse ridden by the man had already rubbed its head over, rubbing intimately against the neck of his own horse.

The young man was stunned, only to realize that in the lightning speed, the man’s hair hit his face, sticking so closely, as close as riding the same horse. Subconsciously frowning and wanting to avoid, unexpectedly a large hand landed on his waist, and then the man’s deep voice sounded in his ear: “Be careful.”

Before the young man could recover, he saw a winding stream appearing at the end of the trees. The man laughed loudly and let go of his hand. The fine horse under him faced the wind with four hooves, leaped over the stream that was several zhang wide, and then reined in on the other side of the stream, its mane flying. Hua Qianjue reached out his hand from across the stream and shouted: “Jinian, jump over quickly.”

Hua Jinian looked at the hand extended by the man, a vague sense of loss in his eyes. The horse under him, as soon as its hooves touched the water, retreated three steps in fear. No matter how the young man urged, it hesitated to move forward. Just like this, after a long delay, when the young man almost lost all face, the other horse neighed several times, constantly urging. Only then did this horse retreat several steps, struggle to leap over the stream, and stumble to run.

The place of seclusion mentioned by the man was chosen nearby in Luoying Valley on the outskirts of Bizhou, only about twenty miles away from the Bizhou branch. The two horses traveled one after another for half a day, and the valley entrance was already visible in the distance. Nearly a hundred disciples of Futu Fortress guarded the valley entrance. After kneeling to welcome the two into the valley, they firmly guarded the valley entrance, forbidding others to enter or leave.

This Luoying Valley was originally the site of the old Futu Fortress. The Butterfly Spring, Huanhua Creek, and Rakshasa Sea in the valley were all places of exquisite beauty in the world. But since the destruction of the Liang Kingdom and the Xiao people entering the pass in large numbers, in order to avoid the chaos of war, the main fortress of Futu Fortress moved into Wanxiang Mountain, leaving only ruins here.

Hua Qianjue revisited the old place, sighed a few words in a low voice, and then dismounted. Hua Jinian sat on the horse, dazzled by the layers of flower seas around him. It wasn’t until the man scolded him that the young man seemed to wake up with a start and leaped off the horse. Just at this moment, the horse he was riding suddenly gave a mournful cry and struggled to kneel down. The young man turned his head in horror to look closely, only to find that this horse had broken its leg by the stream covered with pebbles long ago, but somehow managed to follow closely all the way here, limping.

He looked back and saw scattered blood spots dripping all the way on the road full of fresh flowers, winding into a line. On the twisted horse leg, bone fragments pierced out obliquely from the break, shocking to the eye. The horse’s pitch-black and round eyes were faintly covered with a layer of water film, appearing innocent and heartbreaking. The young man couldn’t help whispering: “I knew… you definitely couldn’t jump over.”

As he spoke, he extended a palm expressionlessly and patted towards the horse’s head, wanting to end its piercing pain. Suddenly, the other horse rushed over from behind, neighing angrily, half-reared in front of Hua Jinian, raised its front hooves, and stomped fiercely towards the young man.

Hua Qianjue frowned: “What a beast!” He stepped forward a few steps, supported the horse’s belly with one hand, lifting it high above his head, and stopped Hua Jinian’s full-force palm with the other hand. With a shift of steps, he threw the horse he was supporting far away with a backhand, but didn’t hurt it. The young man was still in shock, but only a faint layer of displeasure could be seen on his face. He whispered: “Why did you stop me? This horse is so incompetent, it’s going to die anyway.”

The man looked at him with slight surprise and laughed low: “It doesn’t have to die.” As he spoke, he took out the wound medicine from his sleeve, neatly applied it to the horse, tore off a piece of his clothes, picked up a branch, and bandaged and fixed it. The young man whispered: “It’s just a beast, why do you need to go to such trouble?”

Before the man could answer, the fine horse he threw away had already walked over, rubbing against Hua Qianjue’s body ecstatically, looking very human-like. It stuck out its tongue and constantly licked the wet eyelashes of the injured horse. The young man felt his eyes dry and turned his head slightly away, hearing the man’s low laughter: “You don’t need to think too much. After practicing this kung fu, you will be somewhat hateful to ghosts and gods at the beginning, but soon it will have nothing to do with sadness or joy.”

The young man thought he was being sarcastic, and felt even more displeased in his heart. Subconsciously, a cold killing intent flashed in his eyes. Hua Qianjue looked at his eyes and couldn’t help feeling a chill in his heart. He immediately put on a stern face and scolded: “Uneducated thing, what kind of attitude is that!” He walked a few steps in the flower path somewhat angrily, then softened his tone again, sighing low: “This mental cultivation method, if used slightly, can have the power of a thousand jun, it’s not completely useless.”

The young man walked to the side of that good horse with a low laugh, raised his palm, and laughed angrily: “Then why isn’t this horse afraid of me?” Hua Qianjue’s eyes flashed. Seeing that although the horse’s legs were trembling, it still didn’t retreat a step, he couldn’t help laughing softly: “Because its mate is watching… Even if it’s afraid, it has to play the hero.”

As the man spoke, he held the young man’s palm that was gathering strength to strike, and whispered: “The first stage of the Flower Heart Mantra is originally the sprouting of killing intent. It will be fine when you reach the second stage, the Realm of Chaos.”

Hua Jinian struggled with his hand hard, but couldn’t break free. He took a few deep breaths fiercely before suppressing the bloody killing intent in his heart. The warm body temperature of the man’s palm brought him a few traces of long-lost embarrassment, turning into half-bitter and half-astringent sweet rain in the heart field that he thought was about to dry up. Beside his ear was the man’s warm breath. This unspeakable sense of oppression had once made his legs weak and his head dizzy when he was young. Now it seemed that it had never lost its due effect in the torrent of time.

The young man couldn’t help but start to doubt, can this kind of martial arts really obliterate this sinful admiration? Even if it can smooth the surface cracks and return the heart field to flatness, but the grief and trauma underground, the rolling lava and sprouting seeds underground, it wants to break through the soil, it wants to burst out, who can smooth it, who can stop it?