ONE GLANCE at the courtyard and Mo Xi understood why Murong Chuyi had said open flame was prohibited lest the whole place blow up. Despite Murong Chuyi's immaculate appearance, the mess in the courtyard was so awful it made one's hair stand on end. The ground was littered with fragments of wood, sulfur, and coal. Hulking suits of armor, half-finished, were strewn about, and no less than a dozen bamboo warriors slumped under the colonnade.
The incomparably elegant Ignorant Immortal was unconcerned with this scene of disorder. He led everyone to a small pond in the depths of the courtyard. The pool was crystal clear. Rings, white jade hairpins, and various other trinkets lay at the bottom.
"What's this?" Yue Chenqing wondered. "The legendary Pool of Virtuous Merit?"
Murong Lian's eyes narrowed. "Does your fourth uncle seem like the type to earn virtuous merits?"
Yue Chenqing was indignant. He put his hands on his hips. "Why couldn't my fourth uncle earn merits?"
"You're seriously too funny—don't you know what kind of reputation he has?"
"My fourth uncle is really ferocious!" Yue Chenging responded furiously.
Murong Lian loved nothing more than to tread on people's tails. Yue Chenqing had held his tongue, it would have ended there, but as soon as he responded, Murong Lian grew all the more invigorated. Even his craving for ephemera had receded a bit. "Ferociousness and reputation are two different things," he teased. He pointed to Gu Mang, still strapped to the bamboo warrior. "Is he not ferocious? Didn't stop his reputation from stinking to high heaven."
"Y-you—!" Yue Chenqing's cheeks puffed out in anger. He may have been the best-tempered young master in Chonghua, but his fourth uncle was the one topic he could not let lie. Yue Chenqing had blindly adored his youngest uncle ever since he was little. After sputtering for a long time, he shouted at Murong Lian, "You dare call other people stinky! Murong-dage, you're very stinky yourself!"
Murong Lian was at a complete loss for words. Miracle of miracles— the sun had risen from the west! Young Master Yue had not only learned how to curse, but the one he cursed out was him? Murong Lian found himself unable to respond for quite a while, stunned silent by shock that outweighed everything else.
At that moment, Murong Chuyi turned to face them. "This is the Dream-Transfiguring Pool. If spiritual items are thrown in, the water will turn gold."
"And then?" Mo Xi asked.
"We each take a jade cup and drink a cupful. After that, we'll fall asleep and dream of past events connected to this blade."
Murong Chuyi held Hong Shao's hilt between his middle and index fingers. He looked at Mo Xi, ignoring Wangshu-jun and Yue Chenqing likely because he was sick of their racket. "I'll toss it now."
The Ignorant Immortal figured that Mo Xi disliked wasting breath more than anything, so he only spoke as a gesture of courtesy. He didn't even wait for Mo Xi's nod before he moved to toss the hilt in.
He hadn't expected that Mo Xi would stop him.
Mo Xi nodded in Gu Mang's direction. "If we sleep, what happens to him?"
"Simple." Murong Chuyi swept his sleeves back and said blandly, "Xuanwu Formation, rise." As his voice rang out, all the plants in the courtyard began to rustle. Every bamboo warrior clambered upright from amid the vegetation. Even those that were slumped on the ground stood up, their joints creaking noisily. One after another, they leapt forward and surrounded Gu Mang, forming a crowd of fifty-odd warriors that continued to grow in number.
"Even for an immortal, it would be absolutely impossible to spirit him away within the time it takes for an incense stick to burn," Murong Chuyi said.
Murong Chuyi and Mo Xi both preferred to use words like absolutely, certainly, and definitely. Since Murong Chuyi had said absolutely nothing could take Gu Mang away, then he must have been completely certain.
Mo Xi glanced at those bamboo warriors. "Then let us begin," he said, and turned to face the Dream-Transfiguring Pool.
Hong Shao slipped into the water, and the pool quickly flashed gold. Murong Chuyi retrieved three jade cups shaped like lotus petals, passing one to Murong Lian and one to Mo Xi. Yue Chengqing stared helplessly. "What about me? I don't get one?"
Murong Lian snickered. "Heh, your fourth uncle doesn't like you enough to let you join in on the fun."
Yue Chenqing was like a confused puppy. He turned his head and blinked, peeking over at his uncle. His fourth uncle paid him no mind, keeping to himself as he downed his own cup in one draught. The Dream- Transfiguring Pool was incredibly potent; as soon as he'd swallowed, his eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep with his head pillowed on his arm.
"Fourth Uncle?"
When he saw how dejected Yue Chenqing looked, Mo Xi filled Murong Chuyi's used cup and passed it to Yue Chenging. The young man hastily took it, finally allowed to join in. With a quick word of thanks, he gulped it down and slumped over, limbs akimbo as he dozed off.
Mo Xi and Murong Lian waited no longer to drink their own Dream- Transfiguring water and instantly sank under.
At first, everything was dark, as if they'd been plunged into the blackness of night. Then they heard the sounds of a sword whistling brightly through the air. The cries of that blade were like a mighty thunderstorm that shook the earth and painted over the sky.
Mo Xi could probably recognize the brilliant sound of that sword even with his eyes shut. These same sounds had rung out when Li Qingqian had battled thousands of demon wolves at his side. At that time, the Water Parting Sword had not yet reached the peak of its power, but each and every strike had been filled with clear and pure spiritual energy.
The scene slowly brightened as they listened to the swings of this sword, and their surroundings gradually became clear. It was late spring, and they were in a little village house, the yard filled with fluttering apricot blossoms. Li Qingqian, who looked to be around twenty, was practicing his sword, his patched green robes whirling through the air with every movement.
But he wasn't alone—a dainty girl dressed in coarse purple clothes exchanged blows with him. Her movements were clever and swift, spinning and ducking so quickly it was difficult to catch a glimpse of her face. It wasn't until Li Qingqian had her at sword-point that she laughingly came to a stop. She complained with mock indignance, "Dage, I held out for another twelve strikes today. Don't I deserve praise?"
Li Qingqian smiled. "Hong Shao is very formidable."
Hong Shao, it seemed, was this maiden's name. And she wasn't satisfied. "You used that line the last time. Try a different one?"
Li Qingqian laughed helplessly. "Then...you're the most intelligent?"
"You said that the time before last; you need to think harder!"
With a huff, she turned away. Only then did Mo Xi get a good look at her features. This girl was around seventeen or eighteen, with skin like lotus petals, slender brows like a willow, and a beauty mark at the outer corner of her eye. Mo Xi was not great at telling women apart; he simply thought she looked quite familiar. Only after a few seconds did he realize that this girl looked quite like those missing maidens. Or perhaps he should say those missing girls looked like fragments of her—some had similar noses or lips, while others had that mole by their eye.
Li Qingqian sheathed his sword and reached out to flick the girl's forehead. "Can't think of anything. I give up." He turned around to duck back into the house.
"Hey! You! You just didn't try hard enough!" Hong Shao skipped after him and cried out at the top of her lungs. "Aah! Li-dage has gone back on his word! Li-dage doesn't care about me anymore!"
The chickens in the courtyard scurried about in fright, and the little dog began to bark. Whether they were trying to cheer her on or drown her out, who could say? Mo Xi was speechless—he had never truly had any patience for women. Steady types like Mengze were all right, but little maidens like Hong Shao were easily among his top ten worst nightmares. Yet it was clear that Li Qingqian liked her very much; there wasn't the slightest hint of impatience when he spoke to her.
As Mo Xi watched, he came to understand the relationship between them. It seemed that Hong Shao had been a young girl escaping famine, and Li Qingqian had picked her up on his travels. When they met, he was merely eighteen, and she was fifteen. After three-and-a-half years of traveling together far and wide, they were now an inseparable pair.
Unfortunately, neither Li Qingqian nor Hong Shao had a scrap of romantic experience. Li Qingqian went without saying, and although Hong Shao looked rambunctious, she was a pure girl who never dared voice the feelings hidden in her heart. Thus, although the affection between them was obvious even to strangers, the two of them were clueless on how to broach the topic.
Most unbelievably of all, one night, Hong Shao had gotten drunk and leaned forward against the table, staring blankly at Li Qingqian in the glow of the candlelight. As she caught sight of his hand resting by the scroll as he read, she couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She inched quietly closer, bit by bit. Heart pounding, she plucked up all her courage and took hold of his hand.
Li Qingqian had turned his wide-eyed gaze on her in astonished silence. Hong Shao's cheeks were ruddy from wine as she giggled, and her eyes were filled with sparkling brilliance. "Dage..."
Logically speaking, in cases where two parties are pining for one another, as long as one of them musters up the courage to speak, to poke through that thin paper window between them, the other should then be able to express themselves and reciprocate their feelings. But as Hong Shao gazed at Li Qingqian's elegant and handsome face, she suddenly felt timid.
Was she really fit to be with him?
Three years ago, when this man had reached out a hand to the frozen, starving, filthy little girl covered in scabies, he had already become her big brother, her deity, her knight in shining armor. In the eyes of Hong Shao, everything about her Li-dage was wonderful—his looks, his heart, his cultivation, his voice. Other than being poor, he was the best in the world in every way.
She lowered her head to consider herself. Although her looks were pleasant enough, in the end, she was no more than an illiterate girl, both clumsy and stupid. She ate a lot—twice as much as her Li-dage in a single meal—and her voice was too loud, like a raucous drum. The more this little drum thought, the more sorrowful she felt. The courage she had so painstakingly gathered abandoned her at the critical moment.
Her bravery was gone, but their hands were still linked. She had to find a suitable excuse, didn't she? She couldn't possibly say, Sorry Dage, I grabbed your hand thinking it was a cup of tea. And so, Hong Shao concocted an excuse so terrible it didn't convince even Mo Xi: she laughed and said, "Let's arm wrestle!"
Li Qingqian had no words.
"Let's play, let's play! Let's see who's stronger!"
Li Qingqian also thought he'd misread the situation. The tips of his ears were pink as he withdrew his hand from her palm and lowered his lashes. "Didn't we just match wits yesterday?" he said helplessly.
"Exactly, so today we'll compete in strength."
"What new whim is this?" Li Qingqian chuckled reluctantly. "A new competition every day? Then what kind of match are you planning for tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow we'll compete in handsomeness!" Hong Shao declared. She grabbed the brush Li Qinggian had left beside his book and drew a mustache on her face with two strokes. "Look, Dage, just like this!"
Li Qingqian watched her look from side to side, cleverly stroking her imaginary beard. He couldn't help but feel amusement and tenderness. He did like her back—but just as she saw herself as too stupid, clumsy, and gluttonous, Li Qingqian considered himself too stuffy and poor. He'd always felt that a girl as clever and pretty as Hong Shao shouldn't have to suffer alongside him.
In fact, when Hong Shao had first insisted on sticking with him, he had told her rather helplessly, "Miss, I only saved you because I happened to see you collapsed on the side of the road when you were so ill. I never asked you to repay me in any way..."
Despite her voice, loud as a drum, Hong Shao's figure was slight. As soon as Li Qingqian quickened his pace, her footsteps pattered as she chased after him, frantically explaining as she ran. "Da-gege, Da-gege, I know, I know! You don't need me to repay you, but I want to—"
"Stay at the healer's hall then—didn't I already speak with the doctor? She's willing to take you on as a disciple. If you want to repay me, study with her and learn to cure illnesses and save people in the future. Doesn't that sound nice?"
"No, it doesn't!" Hong Shao was so anxious she had begun hopping up and down. "I was ready to sell myself to bury my godfather! But you gave him a burial, saved me, and took me to the doctor! I—I don't care! I'm staying-staying-staying for sure, aaah!"
She was screaming and shouting like a little lunatic by the end. Now that he'd seen how troublesome this sick kitten was once she'd regained her strength, Li Qingqian's head began to ache, and he walked even faster.
Hong Shao grew more distressed, her shoddy grass sandals slapping the ground. They were constantly tripping her and hindering her chase, so she kicked them off and threw them at Li Qingqian, one after another. Squatting barefoot on the ground, she sobbed, "D-don't leave! How about I don t repay you, would that work?"
Li Qingqian was rendered speechless.
Tears streamed down her dirty face. "I won't repay you! I'll freeload off you, I'll live off your kindness, is that good enough? Da-gege, don't leave me by myself." She wiped her tears away as she spoke through her sobs. "If you leave me alone at the healer's hall... I'm so clumsy, I don't know anything... What if the doctor changes her mind after a few days and sells me? I've already been passed through three different households—I' ve been someone's future daughter-in-law, a servant girl, and an adopted daughter. I don't even know what I am anymore..."
She cried harder and harder, wailing hoarsely at the top of her lungs. Her tears stained the mud and her grubby feet ground into the dirt. "Don't leave me behind," she wept. "I don't want to go to a fourth household..."
When he saw her crying like this, what else could he do?
Li Qingqian had been born in Lichun, the weakest nation in the Nine Provinces. His small country was wedged between two overbearing neighbors and often caught in the crossfire—but no great cultivators would come when demons or monsters attacked.
He had watched with his own eyes as his mother was raped and murdered, and his father stabbed to death. He hadn't even been ten years old. He'd huddled, shivering, inside a closet in their family's dilapidated shack and clutched his barely weaned brother. His tears had flowed uncontrollably, but he still kept his hand clamped tight over his little brother's mouth, muffling his cries.
But those cultivators possessed strong spiritual energy. How could they fail to notice two children hiding in the house? They had kicked down the closet door; amid the flying wood shards, two coarse hands had lifted him and his brother out. Li Qinggian clung tightly to his baby brother, unwilling to let go. The cultivators responded with a storm of nasty laughter, and vicious blows and curses rained down upon their small bodies.
"Could we bring these two whelps back and use them to make medicine?"
"Doesn't look like they've inherited their mother's Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast blood. Their tears aren't the right color..."
"Just kill them then! Might as well nip any future trouble in the bud."
At the time, Li Qingqian hadn't understood a word of what they said. He didn't know what a Butterfly-Boned Beauty Feast was; he only watched as several cultivators wrapped his mother's naked body in satin and took her who knows where. He wailed and screamed, wanting to run after his dear mother's corpse, but he couldn't put down the little brother in his arms. Coppery blood, burning smoke, and the fiendish laughter of the cultivators blurred into one mess in his eyes.
Suddenly, he heard a great boom. A jade-colored sword glare flashed out and decapitated those cultivators, their blood spurting high into the air.
Moments later, a green-clothed man in a golden mask appeared at the door. With the daylight at his back, he stepped over their corpses to enter Li Qinggian's home.