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Chapter 83: The Wind Blows by the Lake

Snow-Treading Crow and Black Peony grazed around the trees. Looking at those two, Zhao Changhe had no idea if anything had sparked between them, and whether they were going to secretly mate. Anyway, the couple were lost in their intimacy and could not be bothered concerning themselves with what their horses were doing.

The little white rabbit was initially dissatisfied with letting her horse find a mate, but this was her Big Brother Zhao’s horse, so it seemed like she was fine with it.

Everyone has to find a mate eventually, both men and horses.

Snow-Treading Crow was now very well-behaved. If he jumped about, he would get beaten. But if he was well-behaved, he would have a nice mare to accompany him. Even horses knew what they had to do.

What’s more, his master was outstanding. In just a measly three days, he had already turned from a greenhorn that had never ridden a horse into an expert able to perform difficult riding techniques like dropping to the side of the horse or standing on the stirrups. It was as if he was a person that had spent years of his life on a horse—nothing like a newbie.

Cui Yuanyang realized that as long as it was related to exercise, Zhao Changhe could pick up skills very quickly. On the other hand, every time he went to read in Cui Wenjing’s study, his eyes would get drowsy.

Zhao Changhe seemed to be quite interested in the history of the eras, but whenever he sat down to read, his eyes would get tired. Cui Yuanyang had no idea how much he had read or how many words had gone into that skull of his in the past three days.

Yes. He’s so similar to how I was like when I was forced to memorize internal arts mnemonics. We really are like a couple.

What he said was right. Someone like him shouldn’t concern himself with the matters of the imperial court. He’s naturally suited to the jianghu and that’s where he belongs, wandering around and braving dangers.

However, Yangyang was getting more and more reluctant to part with him.

The modifications to Dragon Bird had been completed a few days ago, so Zhao Changhe could have actually left then. Learning horse riding and researching the history of this world were just very good reasons to stay for another two days. However, while there was no end to studying, there were standards for horse riding, and once he reached them, it meant that it was time to go.

Cui Yuanyang even felt that Zhao Changhe’s kisses were not as passionate as the one he gave two days ago. She did not know if she was mistaken...

But of course she was. Zhao Changhe could not, in good faith, kiss this small girl on her little lips. What passion is there to speak of when kissing someone on the cheek... Zhao Changhe’s affection for Yangyang far exceeded his desire for her, and he did not know if this would change in the future.

The winds caressed the willow trees as the young lady nuzzled up against her boyfriend’s embrace. Her expression seemed out of sorts as she muttered, “Big Brother Zhao...”

“Yeah?” Zhao Changhe reached out his hand and played with her chin. “What’s wrong?”

“The Qingming Festival is tomorrow. All the clan members need to give offerings to our ancestors. The incident regarding second uncle will be recounted to our ancestors and he will be executed before them.”

“I haven’t seen your father the past two days. This matter will probably be very troublesome to settle afterward. Your second uncle has a lot of power. There will be thousands of loose ends to tie up after he’s taken care of. It definitely wasn’t easy for him to take time out to talk to me that night.

“In front of other people, he must always be calm and collected,” Cui Yuanyang said softly. “In the past, I thought that it must have been very exhausting for him to live like that. Who doesn’t want to be from a powerful clan or be the ninth ranked man on the Ranking of Heaven? But I feel like it’s not as good as traveling in the jianghu free and unrestrained, like you, Big Brother Zhao.”

“That’s why a little idiot like you would admire the trials and hardships of the jianghu, and then be deceived by a bandit.”

“Hmph...”

It was good that Cui Yuanyang did not follow up with the line “It’s a good thing that bandit happened to be you, Big Brother Zhao.” Both of them had already heard and uttered too many corny lines these past two days. What she wanted to say was “It’s precisely because of this that I don’t want to be a burdensome brat. I don’t want to drag you down.” She was so concerned over this she almost became like a second Cui Wenjing.

In some sense, letting the people of the jianghu believe that Zhao Changhe had been driven away by the Cui Clan was a good thing. It meant that he would not be tied down by anything and could remain carefree as he strode forward.

However, this little girl never said any of this in the end. What she meant when she told him that all the clan members were going to present offerings to their ancestors tomorrow was very clear.

She did not want to confront their farewell. It would probably have taken more than a month for her to stop crying from being overwhelmed by the sorrow of parting; Zhao Changhe also disliked getting tangled up in something until he was sick of it. He thought that it would be ideal if he could take the chance while they were all presenting offerings to leave.

Thus, she told him the time. Both of them tacitly understood each other.

Yangyang had always known what she had to do.

*

Fifth day of the fourth month. The Qingming Festival.

It drizzled through the night and only stopped in the morning. There was a thick fog now and the moon at daybreak still hung slanted in the dark sky, faintly discernible.

In the guest room, Zhao Changhe lightly caressed the Dragon Bird of the Great Xia, which now had some rust smeared on it. “Eighth-grader saber, don’t worry, alright? Your big brother here will bring you to kill people.”

The saber buzzed. Its response seemed to tell Zhao Changhe that it was not only satisfied, but even delighted.

Zhao Changhe slowly slung it over his back and looked at himself in the copper mirror.

He was a well-built man more than eight chi tall; the broad saber on his back was four chi long, and its long hilt jutted up from his shoulders at an angle. From afar, anyone would be able to feel his oppressive bearing. The more Zhao Changhe looked at the saber, the more awake he felt looking at his own handsome reflection.

His scholar robes had been swapped out for a warrior jinzhuang

, no longer a red-violet color, but now a low-profile ashen brown; a worn out wine gourd hung slanted by his waist; and together with his beard, which he had intentionally grown out the past two days, that frivolous and proud wildness of his was once again visible in the mirror.

Ding!

From a hill far away, bells could be heard and told everyone in the Cui Clan that it was time to gather and present offerings to their ancestors.

Zhao Changhe turned around and gazed into the distance. Amidst the thick fog, it was difficult to make out the mountain.

However, he knew that there was a small girl looking in the direction of the guest house with each step she took on the mountain road.

He stared fixedly for a while. After arranging his traveling bag, he strode out and mounted Snow-Treading Crow.

Within the morning fog, the steed neighed as it made its way through the quiet streets of Qinghe Commandery, straight towards the long river outside the commandery.

Cui Yuanyang had just reached the summit of the hill. As if feeling something, she turned her head and looked far into the distance.

The mists were gradually receding, but still, she could not see anybody. However, she could faintly make out the willow trees by the river bank; she could feel the morning wind and see the waning moon.

This little girl, who had never bothered with obtaining a deeper understanding of things when she was studying, suddenly thought of a phrase passed down from the previous era.

In the years following our farewell, beautiful sceneries I may see.

But who shall I confide in when my heart is full of love and longing?[1]

This was a line that had been preserved through the eras. It was only after reciting it once more in her heart that she realized she was in that poem.

“Father.” She suddenly tugged on the hem of Cui Wenjing’s robe. “After the ceremony, I’ll go into secluded meditation myself. Can you teach me the Qinghe Purple Qi Art?

Cui Wenjing stroked his beard, filled with consolation. “Very well.”

Cui Yuanyang once more looked in the direction of the river outside the commandery, muttering to herself, “You must wait for me... In three years, don’t forget Yangyang.”

*

A thousand li away, Ancient Sword Lake.

Beside the lake there was a bamboo forest, within which was a straw hut. Beside it was a grave.

Han Wubing quietly sat down with his legs crossed beside the grave, laying his sword before the tombstone. He opened a jug of warm wine and began slowly pouring it on the sword. From time to time, he took a few sips, as if taking turns drinking with the blade. At the same time, it looked like some kind of sacrificial ceremony.

After a while, there was some movement in the mists.

The wine gourd ran out of wine.

Han Wubing placed the empty gourd upright in front of the tombstone and picked up his sword, now drenched in wine.

“Han Wubing, I knew you would come here.”

All around, shadows of people flickered about. He had no idea when they had surrounded him.

Han Wubing did not turn to glance at them and continued looking at the grave. “I also knew that you people would come.”

“And you still came to meet your death? You came to pay respects at the cost of your life. Why do this?”

“Because I feel like something is lacking in the ceremony. There is not enough wine.”

“Hmm? Lacking the bounty on your head? Haha... Hahaha...”

“There’s wine, but no blood. What I lack are the severed heads of my enemies. You’ve all come at a good time.”

Clang!

A dragon-like screech resounded as killing intent from bright and cold sword qi dispersed the mist enveloping the bamboo forest.

Zhao Changhe, on the road, suddenly reined in his horse and raised his head to look at the sky.

Fourth Month. Qingming. Han Wubing, at the fifth layer of the Profound Gate was comprehending the sword in front of a grave. Within the span of time it takes for an incense stick to burn, he beheaded thirty-two of his enemies from the Sword Hut, and their blood was offered as a sacrifice to his late friend. Among them was one enemy at the same level; with his killing intent piercing through the nine heavens, he was not a trivial foe.

The Ranking of Hidden Dragons has changed.

Rank 66: Han Wubing!

His health is his enemies’ demise.

Zhao Changhe looked on for a moment and suddenly smiled. “This month, those profiteers sorting the rankings into books must have their jaws on the ground. I heard that the Tome of Troubled Times has never appeared this frequently in the past. Is this a sign that chaos is upon us? Are heroes about to rise in droves?”

He stroked the head of his horse and smiled. “Little crow, are you itching to get on with it?”

Snow-Treading Crow: “...”

I’m a horse. What are you saying...

“Let’s go.” Zhao Changhe urged his horse forward and sped away. “My opponent is waiting for me. How can I fall behind!”

1. From a poem written by Liu Yong in the Song dynasty. ☜