Chapter Thirty-Eight: This Path Through the Rivers and Lakes Is Far from Ordinary

Even in a world where lightness skills could leave no trace in the snow, it would never allow such leisurely strolling as this. Such a feat defied all common sense; it was beyond the reach of martial arts. Sword Thirteen, raised in the renowned Sword Manor and well-versed in the ways of the world, knew that even if one mastered both the Ren and Du meridians, harmonized with the energies of heaven and earth, and possessed an inexhaustible internal strength, it would still be impossible. Even Ling Chongxiao himself could not achieve this. Unless the woman was weightless, or possessed some supernatural power.

Xin Fourteen glanced at the hesitation in this mortal's eyes, but was not surprised. Would she, for the sake of mere mortals, pretend to be an ordinary girl? Truly, that was beyond her abilities.

“Whether you choose to stay or leave, it’s entirely up to you,” Xin Fourteen said coldly. Perhaps it was her chilly demeanor, or perhaps the weather itself was so cold as to be frightening, but Sword Thirteen felt an inexplicable intimidation, unable to speak, icy dread creeping into his heart. He found this beautiful woman more terrifying than any expert he had ever encountered.

Sword Thirteen took a deep breath to suppress his fear and replied, almost reverently, “My young master is still outside. May I return and report to him? Would that trouble you?”

“If I say it troubles me, would you not go? Don’t dawdle—go quickly and come back quickly.” Xin Fourteen was exceedingly impatient.

******

“You say there’s a young woman in the temple whose movements leave no trace?” the young master in the sedan chair spoke languidly.

“Yes. This temple is said to have been abandoned for years, so it shouldn’t have anyone. That woman’s origins are mysterious. Young master, should we enter or not?” Sword Thirteen truly could not discern Xin Fourteen’s nature; his experience in the martial world told him it was best not to risk himself. Yet his young master was proud, and trying to dissuade him might backfire.

“Sword Fourteen, do you think we should go?”

“The young master wants to go.” These four words were squeezed out as if from stone.

“Well said, Sword Fourteen. Serving as a slave in my household must be a grievance for you.” The young master in the sedan chair clapped his hands.

Sword Thirteen sighed helplessly—there was no avoiding it.

Upon entering the temple, Xin Fourteen was no longer waiting there.

“A guest from afar arrives—is it not a joy? The honored guest may proceed to the rear courtyard.” This was not the same woman’s voice, but an elderly man’s.

The direction of his voice led to a small path, where the grass, though covered in snow, still showed signs of life. Occasionally, bits of green peeked through beneath the moonlight, imbuing the scene with a sense of Zen.

After walking the path, Sword Thirteen led the way and found himself in an open space. There stood an ancient plum tree, swaying in the wind, its pale yellow blossoms exuding a subtle fragrance.

---

The sedan chair stopped outside, its curtain drawn back to reveal the young master. His lips were naturally red, his features handsome, his eyes clear as a spring, a red mark at his brow glowing like a gem. The aura of nobility he possessed needed no further elaboration.

This, then, was the young master of Sword Manor, an outstanding figure among the younger generation of the martial world.

His status and appearance could make him the dream of any maiden. Such a life should be without regrets; even princes could scarcely rival the joy of a young heir to a martial family, especially as the sole son of the Sword Manor’s master.

But heaven, in the end, is fair.

For when the curtain was drawn, he did not walk out but was wheeled forth in a chair.

He lifted his head. “Such a fine moon.”

Lowered his gaze. “Such lovely snow.”

Finally, his eyes rested on the plum blossoms. “Such beautiful plum.”

By then, Xin Fourteen had already appeared. Her presence left him momentarily speechless.

Xin Fourteen placed her hands on her hips and laughed, her gaze radiant. “What’s wrong, boy? Lost your words? You’ve praised three things—am I not worthy? Am I less than the moon above, the snow below, and even this little plum blossom?”

At her last words, the plum tree trembled, as if fearing Xin Fourteen’s wrath. For plants to gain sentience is a rarity; to achieve such spirit was hard-earned and dearly cherished. If it could transform into human form, it would surely bow its head in loyalty rather than display the proud resilience that poets praise. After all, the harshness of wind and frost is nothing compared to the terror of Xin Fourteen.

He noticed that Xin Fourteen, seeing him in a wheelchair, showed neither pity nor mockery, and felt an inexplicable affection toward her.

Thus, he found her words refreshingly direct, unlike any woman he had ever met.

He spoke warmly, “It is precisely because you are so beautiful, miss, that a mere ‘fine’ cannot describe you. I find no words to express myself; all the usual comparisons to blossoms or moonlight are but a desecration.”

“Do not flatter her, young master, or she will reach the heavens. Fate has brought us together—why not come in for a chat?” The aged voice sounded again.

“When an elder invites, a junior must oblige,” the young master replied.

Inside, the room was a meditation chamber, clean and orderly.

---

The elder was dressed neatly, his white hair like silver, bearing the refined air of a scholar. He was quite unlike the lively Xin Fourteen.

The two sword servants took their places at either side, wheeling the young master before the elder. Xin Fourteen stood behind him.

The elder spoke, “I am Xin, and this is my daughter, Fourteen. Young master, braving the snow at night, you are no ordinary person. May I ask where you come from?”

“I am Ye Liuyun. Greetings, Elder Xin.”

“So you are the young master of Sword Manor—no wonder you have such bearing and talent.”

Ye Liuyun thought to himself: It is said one must be wary of three types in the martial world—old men, women, and children. This father-daughter pair has two of them. He revealed my background in a single sentence; intriguing, indeed.

“I didn’t expect my name to reach your ears, Elder. It is an honor. May I ask which esteemed senior you are? Forgive my shallow knowledge; I cannot place your identity.”

The elder smiled faintly but did not answer, instead raising his wine cup.

Ye Liuyun was a heavy drinker, but after several cups, he felt the effects of intoxication. What happened afterward was entirely unknown to him.

When he awoke, it was already morning, and he was back inside the sedan chair.

Lifting the curtain, Sword Thirteen and Sword Fourteen startled awake. They were now on the official road at the foot of the mountain, with the outer walls of Qingzhou city visible ahead.

Ye Liuyun mused, “What happened last night?”

Sword Thirteen replied, “It seems we went to lodge in the mountain temple, yet upon waking we find ourselves here.”

Sword Fourteen remained silent, for Sword Thirteen had already said all he knew.

Ye Liuyun reflected on the previous day, sighing softly. “Truly, there are mountains beyond mountains, and people beyond people. The father and daughter we met yesterday, if not immortals, must be spirits or demons. Otherwise, how could they toy with us so thoroughly, without a sound?”

“At least they meant no harm.”

“If they were demons, they would not dare to act recklessly among mortals. That need not concern us. Let us enter Qingzhou and retrieve the item, lest complications arise.” Ye Liuyun made his decision; what was past was past, and there was no use dwelling.

ps: Thanks to Iker Casillas for the reward of 1888, to Lonely Drunken Sleep for 300, and to Sword Calls the Nine Heavens, Seawater for their gifts. Many thanks to Tears Weaving Dance, Climbing High, Black Curtain, September, and Who Am I for their recommendation tickets and red envelopes. Now we’ve reached second place on the signed rankings—my heartfelt gratitude for everyone’s support.