Moonlit Whispers

The night was as dark as ink. The third watch had just sounded, and all of Jinguang City had sunk into silence.

Only the occasional bark broke the quiet.

In the dilapidated little house in West City Rat Alley, Chen Ping blew out the oil lamp.

He sat quietly in the darkness for a while, adjusting his breathing until his heartbeat fell in sync with the wind outside. Only then did he slowly rise.

He took off the long robe he wore as a disguise and changed into a close-fitting outfit for night travel.

He had altered it from some old clothes. It wasn't presentable, but it was practical.

Then he fished a piece of black cloth from under the bed and covered his face, leaving only a pair of eyes gleaming in the dark.

Tonight, he was going to see someone.

He pushed open the window, and Chen Ping's figure blurred. He drifted out like a wisp of smoke.

His toes barely touched the roof tiles before he had skimmed several yards away.

The cold wind stung his face, but it couldn't blow away the burning longing in his heart.

Before long, the tall walls of Lin Manor loomed before him.

Chen Ping crouched on an old pagoda tree atop the wall, holding his breath as his hawk-sharp eyes swept over the grounds below.

The defenses at Lin Manor were much tighter than they had been half a month ago. The patrols had grown from two squads to four, and most of the guards were unfamiliar faces. The whistle sticks at their waists had been replaced by gleaming sabers.

"Looks like the day I shattered that teacup really scared Master Lin."

Chen Ping mused to himself.

Avoiding several hidden sentries, Chen Ping made his way by heart to the woodshed behind the Inner Kitchen.

The place was remote and cold, and aside from the clutter stored there, few people ever came.

Chen Ping crouched in the corner and lightly rapped his fingers against the weathered wooden door.

After a brief silence, rustling came from inside the woodshed.

A moment later, the battered wooden door creaked open, leaving a gap just wide enough for one person to slip through sideways.

A speck of dim, bean-sized lamplight spilled out, revealing a face that looked a little haggard but was still gentle and graceful.

"Brother Ping?"

Yun Niang wore an old padded jacket covered in patches. She held up an oil lamp caked with grime, her voice trembling with shock and delight.

Chen Ping slipped inside and gently slid the bolt into place behind him.

Before he could speak, Yun Niang threw herself at him and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

She smelled faintly of soapwort and firewood—the warmth Chen Ping had longed for on countless cold nights.

"You've gotten thinner."

Chen Ping put his arms around her back. The bones beneath his palms felt painfully sharp, and his heart ached.

"I'm fine. But you..."

Yun Niang lifted her head. In the dim lamplight, she reached out with trembling hands and stroked Chen Ping's palms, rough with calluses and scattered with tiny scars. Tears fell one after another.

"You've suffered out there. Your hands are rough as tree bark. They were never this hard when you ground ink."

Chen Ping felt warmth bloom in his heart. He gently wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes, then took a paper-wrapped bundle and a small wooden box from his robes.

"Don't cry. I brought you something good."

He opened the paper bundle. Inside was a piece of dark red sugar, sweet with fragrance.

Then he opened the wooden box, revealing a ginseng rootlet. It was a little shriveled, but its roots were intact.

"This is brown sugar. You're often weak, so drinking it in hot water will help replenish your qi and blood. I found this ginseng rootlet at a bargain in an apothecary. It's not a whole root, but it still has medicinal value. Take it and stew it in chicken soup."

Yun Niang looked at the two things, and her tears flowed even harder.

She knew how much they must have cost in a year when even coarse rice had gone up in price.

"I don't want them. Keep them to nourish yourself."

Yun Niang shook her head vigorously and turned to rummage through the broken clay jar hidden deep in the woodpile.

"I've saved a little from my monthly allowance over the past few months, and I had a few pieces of jewelry from before. I traded them all for some silver scraps. Take them. I heard you still have to grease the examiners' palms for the Imperial Military Examination. We poor folks have no connections—we can't afford to lose out there."

She poured a small heap of silver scraps and copper coins from the jar. They were the money she had scraped together by pinching pennies on her food.

Chen Ping held her hand still and looked straight at her, his voice low and firm. "Sister Yun, put it away."

"Brother Ping..."

"I have money. And don't worry about greasing anyone's palms."

Chen Ping lowered his voice even further.

"I'll rely on my fists in this Imperial Military Examination, not silver. If I can't even pass the exam here in Qinghe County, what right do I have to talk about the future?"

He grabbed Yun Niang's hand and forced the brown sugar and ginseng rootlet into her arms. Then he clasped both her hands tightly, his eyes burning.

"Listen to me. Get your strength back. I'm risking my life out there to make something of myself.

"The day I pass the exam will be the day I bring you home in a grand bridal sedan, with a proper matchmaker and a proper wedding.

"When that day comes, I'll make everyone in Lin Manor address you as Madam Chen."

Yun Niang trembled slightly. A flush spread across her pale cheeks, and with tears in her eyes, she nodded firmly.

"I believe you. I'll wait for you. Even if it takes my whole life, I'll wait."

Just as the two held each other close, a sharp shout suddenly rang out in the distance.

"Why did the light over there go out? You, go take a look!"

It was the Head Steward's voice!

Startled, the two quickly drew apart.

Chen Ping's gaze sharpened. He swiftly blew out the oil lamp in Yun Niang's hand.

"Go back to bed. Don't come out."

Chen Ping whispered the words in Yun Niang's ear, then looked deeply at her, as though he wanted to carve her face into his bones.

Then he sprang away and disappeared into the darkness outside the woodshed.

Yun Niang covered her mouth and leaned against the door. She listened to the footsteps receding outside, her heart pounding wildly as she clutched the still-warm piece of brown sugar in her palm.

When Chen Ping returned to his lodgings in Rat Alley, his heart remained unsettled for a long time.

Yun Niang's thin face, the rough feel of her hand, and the Head Steward's arrogant shout churned through his mind.

"Strength... I'm still not strong enough!"

Chen Ping growled, tore the black cloth from his face, and came bare-chested into the courtyard.

The wind was like a knife, slicing into his skin, but it couldn't suppress the surging qi and blood inside him.

"Ha!"

He took up his stance, his palms hard as iron, and slammed them into the bluestone he used for training.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The dull impacts echoed through the night.

Each strike left a clear palm print in the stone, sending chips flying.

Shattered Stone Palm was all about fierce, domineering force. As Chen Ping practiced it now, releasing his pent-up fury with every blow, it gained an even more savage, murderous edge.

He didn't know how long he had trained. Only when his arms were numb and swollen, and the inner energy in his body had run dry, did Chen Ping finally stop, gasping for breath.

Sweat streamed along the contours of his muscles and turned to clouds of white vapor in the cold wind.

By then, a pale glow had begun to spread across the horizon.

Chen Ping looked at his red, trembling hands. The sharp pain brought him back to his senses, cooling the frenzy inside him.

"I can't train like this. My body can't recover fast enough."

He frowned. Without a good medicinal tonic to nourish him, training to this extreme would only leave hidden injuries. Ordinary liniment wouldn't do the job anymore.

Suddenly, inspiration struck. He remembered the Iron Bone Soup recipe he had found tucked inside the copy of Shattered Stone Palm that had once belonged to Wang Meng.

The recipe called for a main ingredient known as Black Tiger Shin Bone. It was so expensive and rare that he had always substituted ordinary leopard bone, greatly weakening the medicinal effect.

"If I want to make another breakthrough before the Imperial Military Examination, I have to get all the ingredients for this Iron Bone Soup."

Chen Ping lifted his head and gazed at the light of dawn, his eyes growing sharper.

For Yun Niang, and for the promise he had made, he could only win this Imperial Military Examination. He could not afford to lose.

If he couldn't find Black Tiger Shin Bone at the Black Market, he would have to try his luck in that place.