Sunshine

Two travel-worn guests arrived at the Supervising Official's office. Both were of age, jade trees in the wind, like nanmu and pines, possessing first-rate natural gifts. Upon hearing that they had come to visit Mr. Cui, the gatekeeper did not even ask their identities. He hurriedly led them into the official residence, brought them to the separate courtyard where Mr. Cui was temporarily staying, knocked on the door for them, then respectfully took his leave.

The one who opened the door was precisely the gentleman representing the Confucian school in coming here to demand the object of Suppressive Magic. In his youth, he had earned the fine reputation of He Bi Lang and had always been regarded as the undisputed choice for the next head of Guanhu Academy. Upon seeing the two young men, he was both delighted and surprised. Looking at the Young Man leaning sideways against the door, he smiled and asked, "Baqiao, who is this friend beside you?"

The Young Man called Baqiao grinned mischievously. "This fellow? He is a descendant of the Chen Clan of Longwei County in the Great Yong Dynasty. Brother Cui, just call him Songfeng. He does not care for beauty or fine wine, but he has a peculiar obsession with stone inkstones. He heard there are several old pits along the creek here, so he came to try his luck. He also has a distant female cousin traveling with us this time. If not for her, Songfeng and I would not have delayed until now before entering the town. We should have arrived two days ago. She does not like dealing with people, so she went off to wander around town herself. Ah, what a pity, what a pity! On the way here, we heard that a prince of the Sui Dynasty had stumbled upon an enormous stroke of fortune and acquired a golden dragon carp. In the future, it might well travel the river and become a dragon. I was so jealous my eyes turned red. Brother Cui, look—full of bloodshot veins, aren't they?"

The Young Man thrust his head toward the Confucian gentleman, who smilingly pushed it away with a finger. "Liu Baqiao, since you have already delayed your journey, hurry up and attend to proper business. What are you wasting time at my place for? Since when did Wind Thunder Garden begin doing things so sluggishly?"

The Chen Clan descendant from Longwei County wore an apologetic expression and said with a bitter smile, "There was an unexpected conflict on the road. Brother Baqiao injured the internal acupoints he uses as a sword-nurturing chamber. He had no choice but to risk moving his bound sword into his Ming Tang acupoint. If my cultivation had not been inadequate, making me deadweight, Brother Baqiao would never have been injured."

Liu Baqiao laughed heartily. "Just a few sneaky Rogue Cultivators. They relied on a little crooked trickery to luckily injure me, but they are already ghosts beneath my sword, not worth mentioning! If we had not been in such a hurry, I would have made them a few cenotaphs, erected gravestones, and written that they died beneath Liu Baqiao's sword on such-and-such a day of such-and-such a year. When I become the number one in Sword Dao, those graves might even become a famous scenic attraction, right?"

The Confucian gentleman had known this gifted sword cultivator of Wind Thunder Garden for many years and knew his naturally scatterbrained temperament. He led the two men into the courtyard.

Liu Baqiao suddenly lowered his voice. "Brother Cui, give me the truth. Is this world about to collapse? Is Mr. Qi, exiled here from Cliff Academy, really determined to defy Heaven?"

The scholar surnamed Cui acted as though he had heard nothing.

Liu Baqiao chuckled and pointed at Mr. Cui. "I understand now."

The Confucian gentleman said seemingly casually, "Songfeng, I previously visited Mr. Qi at the school. When speaking of self-cultivation, he sighed, 'Time waits for no one.'"

Cultivate oneself, regulate the household, govern the state, bring peace to the world. Yet this Sage seed from the Cui Clan stopped after mentioning only self-cultivation.

At first, Chen Songfeng had thought it was merely polite small talk between scholars. But when he saw the other man's gaze, inspiration flashed between them. Chen Songfeng immediately understood. Cupping his fists, he said, "Mr. Cui, I will go look for my distant female cousin. When I return, I will ask you for guidance on strategies of governing a state."

Whether deliberately or not, Chen Songfeng skipped over the stage of "regulating the household" and mentioned only governing the state.

Chen Songfeng hurried away.

The scholar surnamed Cui sighed and sat with Liu Baqiao at the stone table in the small courtyard.

Liu Baqiao crossed one leg over the other and spoke bluntly. "This Chen Songfeng is clever enough, quick to understand at a touch, but his table manners are far too ugly. At least he could have sat down and exchanged some nonsense with you before leaving. Was he really in such a rush to seek the ancestral blessing of Sophora Leaves? I do not think there is any need. On our East Treasure Bottle Continent, apart from the Chen Clan of Longwei County, how many Lineages and noble houses are still fit to take the stage? If those Sophora Leaves do not obediently fall into Chen Songfeng's pocket, are they supposed to fall into the hands of commoners born and raised in this little town?"

Among the Chens of East Treasure Bottle Continent, the Chen Clan of Longwei County held the highest status. Though they had been silent for a long time, a starved camel was still bigger than a horse. Their influence had waned, but they remained a millennium-old powerful clan whose ancestors had produced a long string of heroes and titans. Thus, even a flourishing sect like Wind Thunder Garden, where Liu Baqiao belonged, did not dare underestimate them. Even someone like Liu Baqiao was willing to keep Chen Songfeng company, considering him half a friend.

The scholar asked curiously, "Did you come here to find Master Ruan and ask him to forge a sword for you?"

Liu Baqiao hemmed and hawed, speaking vaguely.

The rough meaning was that he had come to do something for his sect. If he succeeded, Wind Thunder Garden would step forward and plead with Master Ruan to forge a sword for him. As for what that task was, Liu Baqiao seemed somewhat embarrassed to say.

The scholar said again, "Do you know that Zhengyang Mountain has also sent people here? A master and servant pair."

Liu Baqiao froze, shocked. "I have not heard anything at all. Who from Zhengyang Mountain came?"

Then this young sword cultivator, renowned in Wind Thunder Garden for his overbearing ways, closed his eyes, pressed his palms together, and muttered a prayer. "Please, please, do not let it be the peerlessly beautiful Fairy Su. This junior kneels and begs that Fairy Su has not graced us with her presence. Otherwise, should I draw my sword or not? If Fairy Su glances at me, I will melt. How could I bear to unleash my flying sword..."

The scholar was somewhat helpless. "Do not worry. It is not Fairy Su, the one you admire. It is the White Ape who guards the mountain. He escorted the treasured granddaughter of Pure Yang Sword Ancestor Tao Kui from Zhengyang Mountain."

"Old Cui, you truly are my lucky star! As long as it is not Fairy Su, everything is fine!" Liu Baqiao immediately sprang back to life and burst into laughter. "Why should I fear him?! Would I fear an old beast?! Anyone in Wind Thunder Garden can be afraid, but we alone will never yield to Zhengyang Mountain!"

The scholar hesitated. "Wind Thunder Garden and Zhengyang Mountain originally came from the same root, the same orthodox Sword Dao. Why can they not untie this dead knot?"

Liu Baqiao put away his joking expression and said gravely, "Cui Minghuang, when you come to Wind Thunder Garden in the future, never, ever say half a word like that to anyone."

The scholar let out a long, mournful sigh.

Wind Thunder Garden. Zhengyang Mountain.

From their Patriarch Sword Immortals down to newly initiated disciples, they often did not need any disagreement at all. So long as they met, they would draw swords against each other outright.

The office gatekeeper and an elderly steward suddenly rushed anxiously to the courtyard gate. Cui Minghuang and Liu Baqiao rose at the same time.

The steward entered the courtyard and, after offering a salute, said, "Mr. Cui, we have just received news. Zhengyang Mountain has acted against a youth named Liu Xianyang."

Liu Baqiao flew into a rage. "Which Liu Xianyang?!"

The steward held Mr. Cui in considerable respect. As for the unnamed Young Master before him, the old man was not truly afraid. He answered calmly, "In reply to this Young Master, our town has only one person named Liu Xianyang."

Liu Baqiao's expression changed drastically. He sneered, "What a Zhengyang Mountain. They have gone too far in bullying others!"

Cui Minghuang remained composed and asked, "Did Mr. Qi intervene?"

The steward shook his head. "Not yet. I heard that the youth was taken to Master Ruan's sword shop. Even if he is not dead, he is likely down to his final breath. Someone saw his chest smashed apart by a single punch. How could he possibly survive?"

Cui Minghuang smiled. "Thank you, sir, for informing me."

The elderly steward hurriedly waved his hands. "I dare not accept such thanks, I dare not. It is my duty. I have disturbed you, Mr. Cui."

After the steward led the gatekeeper away, Cui Minghuang saw Liu Baqiao drop back onto the stone bench. Puzzled, he asked, "Could it be that you came precisely for that youth?"

Liu Baqiao's face darkened and shifted. "Half of it, I suppose. What comes next will be troublesome. Great trouble."

Cui Minghuang asked, "It is not merely entangled with the feud between Wind Thunder Garden and Zhengyang Mountain?"

Liu Baqiao nodded. "Far more than that."

The scholar sat with his hands tucked into his sleeves and said softly, "The tree wishes to be still, but the wind will not cease. It seems I should set out and retrieve that square Town Jade Tablet. Even if Mr. Qi mistakes it for Guanhu Academy kicking someone when they are down, there is no helping it."

Cui Minghuang stood up. "I will make a trip to the school. I will be back soon."

After leaving the official residence on Fulu Street, he passed the Twelve-Pillar Archway Building and stopped beneath the plaque bearing the four words "Do not yield in benevolence," raising his head to look.

Under the sunlight, the scholar lifted a hand to shade his brow.

After wavering for some time, he unexpectedly turned around and returned to the office.

On Fulu Street, a broad, white-haired old man led a little girl with delicate features like a porcelain doll. Rather than entering the Lu Family's grand residence, they went to the Li Family. Someone had long been waiting at the entrance and welcomed them inside. In the Main hall beneath the plaque reading "Sweet Dew Hall," a dignified old man rose to greet them at the door. Cupping his fists, he said, "Li Hong greets Elder Yuan."

The Mountain-Moving Old Ape of Zhengyang Mountain casually nodded at the Li Family head, released the little girl's hand, and lowered his head to say gently, "Miss, this old servant will wait for you at the mountaintop."

The little girl sat on the threshold of the Main hall, puffing up her cheeks in silence.

The Li Family head said softly, "Please rest assured, Elder. Our Li Family will certainly see Miss Tao safely out of town."

The Old Ape gave a grunt. "I must trouble you to look after Miss Tao this time. Consider it that Zhengyang Mountain owes you a favor. Let me speak with Miss Tao for a while."

The old man immediately left the Main hall and ordered that no one in the Lineage was to approach Sweet Dew Hall within a hundred paces.

The old man also sat on the threshold. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Miss, there are things I should not have told you, but matters have reached this point. There is no meaning in concealing them any longer, so this old servant will tell you everything. This visit to the town was most likely a carefully plotted scheme. That woman from the Xu family of Qingfeng City cannot escape involvement, though she may not be the person carrying the greatest weight. The power of this pit lies in the fact that even if this old servant noticed it, I still could not avoid jumping in. Miss, you may not know that the owner of that Sword Scripture was once a rebellious disciple of Sword Dao who betrayed Zhengyang Mountain. He created it himself. According to your grandfather, the most precious thing about this Sword Scripture is that although its author ultimately only touched the threshold of Sword Immortal, the Scripture's contents pointed directly toward the Great Dao. Think of it, Miss. Old Ancestor Xie, a friend of Zhengyang Mountain, possessed such discerning eyes, yet still gave the Sword Scripture the evaluation of two words: 'extremely high.'"

The old man's tone grew several degrees colder. "When this Sword Dao genius, who had betrayed his master and destroyed his ancestors, reached the end of his road, he sought refuge with Wind Thunder Garden, Zhengyang Mountain's mortal enemy. Wind Thunder Garden indeed sheltered him for most of his life. He spent most of that life as a turtle shrinking into its shell. Later, to verify the Sword Scripture, he secretly left Wind Thunder Garden and sought out several Great Sword Immortals who had attained the Dao, such as Old Ancestor Xie. Though they all despised his character, they truly praised what was written in the Sword Scripture. Old Ancestor Xie once said privately that the Sword Scripture fused the sword principles of Zhengyang Mountain and Wind Thunder Garden. Once someone from either side mastered it, the question of which deer would die in the struggle between the two schools would finally be settled."

The old man said in a deep voice, "Therefore, if this old servant can obtain the Sword Scripture and give it to you for cultivation, that would be the best outcome. Taking ten thousand steps back, even if Zhengyang Mountain does not obtain it, if it goes to the likes of Old Dragon City or Cloud Mist Mountain and those young people gain the opportunity, Zhengyang Mountain can endure that. But there is one matter in which we absolutely cannot yield even half a step: those mongrels of Wind Thunder Garden must never get their hands on the Sword Scripture!"

The old man's face was livid and savage. "Miss, do not forget that in the deepest part of Wind Thunder Garden, atop that sword-testing ground, stands the ancestor of Zhengyang Mountain—an ancestor of your own line. When Zhengyang Mountain was at its weakest, she resolutely challenged the Master of Wind Thunder Garden of that generation. After dying in an upright and honorable battle, her body was not respectfully returned to Zhengyang Mountain for burial. Instead, they left her corpse exposed beneath the sun. There was even a longsword of a Wind Thunder Garden swordsman thrust into her skull, deliberately left there for people to look upon and mock!"

"Three hundred years. A full three hundred years. Though Zhengyang Mountain is publicly acknowledged to produce outstanding talents in abundance, we have never been able to pull even one sword from Wind Thunder Garden! Generation after generation of Zhengyang Mountain sword cultivators has borne this unbearable humiliation. So long as Zhengyang Mountain does not destroy Wind Thunder Garden, we remain the laughingstock of all East Treasure Bottle Continent."

"Why is it that every Patriarch of Zhengyang Mountain, after attaining the honored rank of Sword Immortal, has never been willing to hold a celebration and announce it to the world?!"

The little girl had actually long known these old matters by heart. She had heard them so often that calluses had grown on her ears.

It was only that when her relatives and elders had spoken of this old case and feud before, they had tried their best to do so in a tone as light as drifting clouds and a gentle breeze. They were nothing like the Mountain-Moving Ape, full of indignation and speaking straight from his chest.

The little girl asked in her childish voice, "Grandpa White Ape, then why did you not simply punch that stubborn, stubborn youth to death? Though his meridians are now shattered and his breath has crumbled into chaotic threads, the Sword Scripture should naturally have been smashed and ground to pieces with them, beyond restoration even by immortals. But better safe than sorry. What if someone saves him? What if someone obtains the Sword Scripture? What would Zhengyang Mountain do then?"

The inheritance method of that Sword Scripture was exceptionally strange and profound. It could not be passed on through words. It was like the inscriptions left by an ancestor of the Liu family upon a wall—or rather, like a strand of ever-circulating sword intent that the Zhengyang Mountain traitor had left within his descendants' bodies, passed down through generation after generation, waiting for an extraordinarily gifted descendant to appear and command that sword intent containing the Sword Scripture's contents.

So long as the youth died, his porcelain buyer and Wind Thunder Garden would be completely out of the running. That Sword Scripture, which had never truly appeared in the world, would vanish into smoke and clouds.

The old man laughed loudly. "If this old servant had killed that youth on the spot, I would have been expelled from this Small World at once. What would Miss Tao have done then? Faced Wind Thunder Garden's people alone? Besides, all techniques are forbidden here. Master Ruan can forge swords and kill people, but his ability to save lives is truly not much to speak of. Could Qi Jingchun intervene? Absolutely not. He is now a Mud Bodhisattva Crossing the River, unable to protect himself. Besides, if this old servant is truly provoked, at worst I will reveal my true form. This old servant would like to see whether this world can bear my thousand-zhang true body!"

The old servant rose to his feet, his bearing vast and majestic. "Miss, there is no need to concern ourselves with the Covered Bridge youth anymore. Allow this old servant to kill the people of Wind Thunder Garden, then wait for you outside the gate at the mountaintop. If Qi Jingchun knows what is good for him, he will watch the fire burn from across the river. If he dares interfere, this old servant will dare smash him into scattered fragments. Even if Master Ruan acts, this old servant will fight him to the bitter end. Only then will this trip not have been in vain!"

The little girl thought for a moment, then smiled brilliantly. "Grandpa White Ape, go ahead. Do not worry about me."

The old man smiled freely. "Miss Tao has even less reason to worry about this old servant."

Inside a room at the creekside sword shop, a heavy stench of blood filled the air. Basin after basin of bloody water was carried out, then basin after basin of clean water was brought in.

An old man who had practically been seized like a chick by the green-clothed girl—the Shopkeeper Yang of Yang Family Pharmacy—sat on a small stool by the window, washing the blood from his hands. Sweat seeped from his forehead. Looking up, he helplessly shook his head. "Master Ruan, this youth's injuries are truly too severe. If this were outside the town..."

Master Ruan, arms crossed, kept a stern face. "Stop talking nonsense."

The old man could only smile bitterly.

He truly had spoken a useless sentence. If this had been outside the town, there would have been no need for him to act at all.

The green-clothed girl, Ruan Xiu, stared fixedly at the Sophora Leaf resting on the wounded youth's forehead. It had already gone dim and lifeless. Green was still green, yet it no longer possessed the slightest trace of vitality. She suddenly turned her head and demanded furiously, "Did you not say that if Chen Ping'an brought out his Sophora Leaf, Liu Xianyang would have a fifty-percent chance of living?"

The old Shopkeeper Yang of Yang Family Shop sighed. "If the owner of the Sophora Leaf had suffered such grievous injuries himself and then received the leaf's ancestral blessing, there would naturally be a fifty-percent chance of survival. But using it to let someone else enjoy that blessing is another matter entirely."

Ruan Xiu shouted angrily, "Yang! Why did you talk such nonsense before and say there was a fifty-percent chance?! Why did you not say so earlier?!"

The old man wore a mournful face, aggrieved beyond measure. "If this old man had not said that at the time, I feared the youth would not have died, but this old man would already have been beaten to death by you."

Ruan Xiu's face turned pale with rage as she was about to curse him.

The man said in a deep voice, "Xiuxiu, do not be rude to Shopkeeper Yang."

Ruan Xiu clenched her teeth and said nothing.

After a moment of silence, the man glanced at the dazed old shopkeeper, who had not moved for a long while. For no reason at all, like spring thunder suddenly exploding, he began cursing loudly. "Shopkeeper Yang, why the fuck are you standing there like a wooden post? Are you courting death?!"

Faced with this father and daughter pair, the old man truly wanted to weep but had no tears. The crucial thing was that he did not dare reveal the slightest dissatisfaction. He could only brace himself and continue treating a dead horse as if it were alive.

From beginning to end, the straw-sandaled youth neither shouted nor wailed. He merely carried water out and back in, again and again, replacing basin after basin of bloody water with clean water.

Another quarter of an hour later, the pharmacy shopkeeper was at his wits' end. Looking down at the basin of clean water, he suddenly slapped the water hard, sending countless droplets flying. Then he raised his head and said to Master Ruan with boundless grief and indignation, "Master Ruan! Why do you not just stab me to death with one sword? I am only a medicine seller, not some divine physician who can bring the dead back to life!"

The blacksmith slowly furrowed his brow.

The old man immediately shrank his neck.

The youth finally spoke. "Shopkeeper Yang, try again."

When the old man turned to look at him, the youth's eyes were utterly clear. He slightly stressed his words. "Try again!"

The old man let out a breath of turbid air and said, unable to bear it, "Child, this old man truly has no way."

The youth struggled to force out the faintest smile. "Shopkeeper Yang, I am begging you."

The old man's face was full of exhaustion, yet he still shook his head.

The last trace of hopeful light in the straw-sandaled youth's eyes vanished as well.

He crouched down and set aside the washbasin, then sat at the bedside and held the tall youth's hand, which had already begun to cool. Forcing out a smile uglier than bitterness itself, he said softly, "I will come back."

The youth rose and left the room. At the threshold, he suddenly turned around and bowed in thanks to the Ruan father and daughter and the old shopkeeper—to the three people who had worked without rest until now.

The youth stepped across the threshold.

The sunlight was somewhat dazzling. After pausing briefly, the youth strode forward.

If Heaven will not give me justice, that is fine. I will go and demand it myself. However much I can get, I will take.