Pei Ye gripped the hilt and drew the sword.
The little courtyard seemed utterly still. A shudder ran through the old man's body. Pei Ye distinctly felt the body before his sword reacting on instinct. It might have had twenty ways to answer this strike, but severed tendons and broken bones dragged that impulse back. In the end, the old man merely trembled a few times and coughed twice.
"Did you see it?" Pei Ye asked.
"White snow flies through an icy sky and jade-bright night; the old goose gazes into a silver mirror; a white horse enters the reed blossoms." The old man closed his eyes and smiled. "Good. That was indeed the first form."
Pei Ye broke into a happy smile too.
"You have a gift for understanding. The difficulty of this sword form lies in entering its gate. Once you've learned the first strike, the later forms become much easier." The old man explained patiently, "This sword art contains five sword intents. You have already grasped the 'fear of lost feathers.' There remain the bitter cold of deep winter, the loneliness of leaving the flock, the stillness of a snowy night, and the desperate struggle to take flight. Remember, only by sinking your heart into the sword can you make progress..."
Pei Ye watched the old man lift his head and speak, laboriously yet rapturously, of the sword art he had created within his heart.
Pei Ye had always regarded the old man's past with a reverence that left him unwilling, almost afraid, to disturb it. But after truly grasping the state of mind behind this sword art, he felt an unmistakable urge to ask.
Snowy Night Flying Goose, Snowy Night Flying Goose... Geese migrated in autumn, so why was there still a lone goose in the sky on a night of swirling snow?
Why had the old man created such a sword art? With such brilliance in the Sword Dao, why had he fallen into this state? Was he still striving to take flight from a plight of utmost cold and loneliness? And where was the south he held in his heart?
In the end, Pei Ye swallowed those questions. He quietly waited for the old man to finish discussing the sword, then took two pears to the well, washed them, and gave him one.
Back inside, Pei Ye picked up the little black bundle curled in the basket and looked into its clear green Jade Eyes. "Is that you?"
The kitten merely gazed at him quietly. After he watched that quietness for a while, it gradually began to look vacant, as though it had no soul.
Pei Ye recalled Black Chi's words, "Not entirely." Lacking the relevant knowledge, he could not yet understand what state it was in.
Following the instructions, he removed its bandages. The wound on its belly had actually healed completely. Marveling, Pei Ye reached out and felt it. It was as good as new, without a single scar. But that soft little belly was also so irresistible that he could not help holding it against his chest and rubbing it a few more times.
Chapter 25: The Court Gazette and a Discussion of Swords
Stars and moon shed their radiance. Beneath the clear night sky, Pei Ye lay on the reclining chair in the courtyard, a kitten so quiet it seemed brainless resting in his arms. By candlelight, he held a booklet.
Only after thinking for quite some time did Pei Ye understand that this cat was merely a "tool" for completing the Shared Fate Pact.
It was not the chi dragon's true body, but something the dragon had concocted so that he could "save it"-probably much like deliberately losing when he played grass-fighting games with children.
The people from the prefectural administration had arrived toward evening, and Pei Ye had gone to see them. But he was then told that the special envoys from the Divine Capital suspected this case was connected to the purpose of their journey and had requested it from the prefectural administration. Pei Ye could therefore cooperate with their investigation when the time came.
After discussing business, Pei Ye stayed at the County Office and squatted below the hall with several officials to eat a simple meal. These officials from the prefectural administration were quite warm and friendly, freely calling him "young hero," "outstanding talent," and "champion." Yet Pei Ye truly had not a drop of ink in his chest and was a country bumpkin through and through. He could not understand the verses they praised him with, nor had he heard of the ancient gallant heroes they compared him to. Even when they dispensed with allusions and praised him plainly, he still had to pause and puzzle over it whenever their wording inadvertently grew a little too refined.
After a meal of chickens talking to ducks, Pei Ye could not help feeling ashamed. Chang Zhiyuan smiled and asked whether he would like to take a couple of books home to read. Pei Ye nodded eagerly.
Chang Zhiyuan pulled two books from the shelf and was about to ask whether he wanted to read The Analects or The Mencius first. Turning back, he saw the youth holding two issues of the Court Gazette and casting him a tentative look. With a helpless chuckle, he put the two books away, along with a bellyful of recommendations.
Now, lying in the peaceful courtyard, listening to the clear, distant chirping of insects and bathing in the night's cool, gentle radiance, Pei Ye opened the National Gazette in his hands and savored a long-absent sense of languor.
As usual, he skipped the political affairs at the front and turned to the section on the Southern Kingdoms' delegation arriving in the Divine Capital, which he had not had time to read closely before.
Such literary and martial contests served, first, to enliven the occasion, provide entertainment, and broaden publicity. After all, if people were told that a southern delegation had come to the capital to pay homage, few would care. But if they heard how beautiful some princess in its entourage was, or how legendary some young talent was-even more accomplished than a certain genius of their own Great Tang-rumors, discussions, and even arguments would inevitably follow. Once people began arguing, they would naturally also take notice of the southern delegation that came every year, imperceptibly planting an awareness of friendship between the two sides.
Second, they genuinely fostered exchange. With geography separating the two sides, their understanding of each other's literary and martial pursuits was indeed shrouded in a certain amount of mist. Through these contests, they could verify their learning against one another and improve.
Third came the desire to decide who was superior-the aspect spectators cared about most, though officials were more discreet about it.
That was what Pei Ye wanted to see too.
The editor clearly understood this and did not spoil everyone's fun. After a few brief passages of empty talk came a detailed account of the literary and martial contests and their results.
In the literary gathering, Xu Chuo, daughter of the late chancellor, had taken first place in both [Poetry and prose] and [Policy essays]. The emperor had personally bestowed upon her the courtesy name Lingzi. The literary champion's works were also appended, but one glance left Pei Ye dazzled and bewildered, so he skipped them outright. In the Martial Competition, Great Tang had once again swept the top three places, entirely unsurprisingly. In order, they were [Heart-Questioning in Fire] Yan Feiqing, the final disciple of the leader of Qingwei Daoism; [Sword Demon] Yang Zhenbing of the White Deer Palace's twenty-seventh generation; and [Sleeping Dragon] Qin Shang, spear officer of the Right Divine Martial Army.
Yan Feiqing... Pei Ye gently brushed his fingers over the name, briefly lost in recollection.
Just as Cheng Feng admired him, Pei Ye had had someone of his own to idolize when he was thirteen or fourteen.
He remembered reading the Crane and Teal Register for the first time with Uncle Lin that year. The bewildering array of names had troubled him greatly, so he had asked Uncle Lin who was particularly strong.
Uncle Lin had pointed to a name near the bottom and said, "The Qingwei leader's final disciple. Only sixteen, and a heaven-sent genius. Don't be fooled by his current ranking of eight hundred and eighty-nine. Within two years, he'll be in the top hundred."
In truth, the young Pei Ye had known nothing of this person's character, understood nothing of his martial methods, and had not even known what he looked like. He had merely heard how, just as he hoped, this young man kept winning battles that seemed impossible to win, and watched the name "Yan Feiqing" climb steadily and swiftly by tens and hundreds of places up the Crane and Teal Register, where advancing even a single rank was extremely difficult. That astonished admiration had gathered into worship all on its own.
He still remembered Lin Lin saying, "Work hard at your martial training. When the time comes, we'll recommend you for the military examinations. Once you reach the Divine Capital, you might even see Yan Feiqing in the flesh."
By now, those feelings had long since grown unfamiliar. Pei Ye did not even know where this genius currently stood in the Crane and Teal Register.
If he could take the Martial Champion title for the country, he must at least be in the top thirty, right?
Once he reached that level, surely he couldn't keep rising as swiftly as before?
Unfortunately, just as he had gone a long time without reading the Court Gazette, Pei Ye had not seen the Crane and Teal Register in nearly three years.
Seeing that familiar name again, his newly healthy body began itching for action. The grand ambition he had once held of earning a place in the Crane and Teal Register of Heroes seemed to return as well. Pei Ye seized the sword beside him, sprang up, and performed a sequence of the Snowy Night Flying Goose Sword Form in the courtyard.
After completing the sequence, he once again ended with the first form, Clouded Sky Obscures Eyes, Lost Feathers. His sword traced an arc like flowing water and sliced into a pear.
Though he had already learned this strike, the wondrous beauty flowing from it still set his heart swaying.
He gazed almost entranced at the sword in his hand, its blade gleaming white as water, and murmured, "I wonder what level a sword form like this stands at in this world... Could it put any pressure on Yan Feiqing?"
"A sword of the highest order." A voice like clear water on a cool night suddenly sounded beyond the wall.
Pei Ye abruptly withdrew his sword and stood still, staring at the courtyard wall. He had sensed absolutely no one watching him.
"My apologies. I meant no harm. I was merely responding to what you said." The speaker stood just beyond the wall, her tone still calm and cool. "This sword is cold, sharp, and deeply restrained. Its movements are already exquisite beyond compare, and its intent penetrates to the bone. That alone is enough to call it a first-rate sword art in this world. But it possesses a further marvel: its intent does not linger within the wielder, but points directly at the enemy's heart. The Sun-Washing Pavilion Preface on Sword Discussion says, 'The lesser sword strikes the bones, the middle sword strikes the flesh, and the greater sword strikes the heart.' This sword's keenest edge lies precisely in 'questioning the heart with blood.'"
Since the old man had created this sword art in his heart, last night had been its first appearance in the world, and tonight only its second. In other words, the person beyond the wall had merely stood outside and listened to him perform it once, yet had analyzed it so thoroughly. Pei Ye was struck speechless by such discernment and knowledge.
"However, if you want to use it against Yan Feiqing, it would not be suitable," she added.
Pei Ye had long since forgotten to explain that he did not mean to make an enemy of Yan Feiqing. He merely asked blankly, "Why?"
The person beyond the wall did not seem to find anything absurd about a country youth without even true qi wanting to face Yan Feiqing. She answered with the same calm earnestness, "Because 'questioning the heart' is what Yan Feiqing fears least."
Understanding dawned on Pei Ye, and he could not help cursing his own stupidity-the Crane and Teal Register's epithet for Yan Feiqing was Heart-Questioning in Fire!
Chapter 26: The Funeral
Drawing his thoughts back to the present, Pei Ye remembered that he still had not asked who the person beyond the wall was.
"Excuse me..." Pei Ye hesitated, choosing the former of "miss" and "senior." "...Miss, my name is Pei Ye. May I ask your name? What brings you to Fenghuai? If you need anything, I can introduce you to the officials at the County Office."
"That won't be necessary. Just a small private matter," the person beyond the wall said. "I am Ming Qitian. May I ask you a few questions?"
Ming Qitian? Who was that?
Pei Ye searched his mind for this unfamiliar name. She had said, "I am Ming Qitian," rather than, "My name is Ming Qitian." That subtle difference seemed to signify something.
"Please ask."
"Have there been any rumors here of a book, or perhaps a wondrous martial art?"
Pei Ye frowned in bewilderment. "I haven't heard of anything like that."
"All right. Thank you."
Pei Ye paused. That was it?
He could not help suggesting, "You could tell me more about it. I might remember some clues."
The person beyond the wall considered this for a moment. "I know little more myself. Only one thing: it may be called the 'Dantian Seed Immortal Method.'"
That unfamiliar term left Pei Ye even more bewildered, and he could only repeat, "I haven't heard of it."
"Mm, thank you," the person beyond the wall said again. "Also, I inadvertently witnessed your sword form. I have three things on hand that I could offer in compensation: a sword art considerably inferior to yours, but still worthy of being called first-rate; a sword forged by the East Sea Sword Forge, graded 'upper second'; and a small booklet in which I recorded my insights into sword practice as a child. Which would suit you best?"
Pei Ye stood stunned for a moment. He had never imagined that someone overhearing his sword practice was such a serious matter. A few years ago, when he read miscellaneous books in the duty room, Inspector Shen Changjian had sometimes practiced his sword in the courtyard. Pei Ye had listened countless times.
Perhaps these were the rules in the wider world? After all, it certainly wasn't ideal to let someone see the skills you depended on.
But then again, hearing was not the same as seeing, and seeing was not the same as learning. Even if he had shown last night's black-robed man the move ten times beforehand, the man would not have known how to counter it. On the eleventh time, Pei Ye could still have driven his sword into his throat. Yet since the person outside could thoroughly understand his sword form through a wall, even if he caught her completely off guard, this move would not achieve the slightest thing against her.
After turning it over repeatedly, Pei Ye ultimately decided to act according to his own understanding. He said seriously, "Miss Ming, I wasn't guarding against anyone while practicing in my courtyard. If you heard it while walking down the street and learned it, that's your own ability. You don't need to compensate me. Besides, what you said has already benefited me greatly."
The person beyond the wall considered this for a moment, then tossed a little jade sword into Pei Ye's hand. "This is the best sword art I've encountered in the past month. I haven't learned it, but it has given me considerable inspiration. Returning courtesy with courtesy is only natural. Since you're unwilling to accept a gift now, keep this Sword Talisman for the time being. Whenever you've made up your mind, you can channel true qi into it and contact me."
Pei Ye was just about to speak when his heart suddenly gave a jolt. He hurried over and pushed open the courtyard gate. The street was already empty.
He walked back, toying with the little sword with a faint sense of loss, then picked up the black cat on the reclining chair and stroked it, preparing to lie down again. At that moment, however, the cat suddenly turned to look at him.
Its eyes seemed to light up, gaining Spirit. Pei Ye knew that spark of life quite well and awkwardly stopped his hand.
But the black cat paid no attention. Instead, it looked toward the gate and murmured, "Tell me, could I have... made the pact with the wrong person?"
"?"
"'Young,' 'sword,' 'a clear and lucid mind,' 'steadfast'... She truly fits every single one."
Pei Ye looked down at it in disbelief. Though he had been wary in every possible way when making the pact, hearing the other party fancy someone new now was equally displeasing. He could not help saying, "Don't I fit too?"
"You certainly do, but just as a firefly can give light, so can the bright moon..."
"Hmm. Go find her, then." Pei Ye twisted his mouth, feeling as though he had been seduced and abandoned.
"Forget it. Marry a rooster, follow the rooster; marry a dog, follow the dog." The black cat glanced up at him. "I'm leaving."
"Hey, wait."
The black cat looked at him.
"What's actually happening on your side? Is the situation still dangerous?" Pei Ye asked.
"It's nothing complicated. Just like you last night, I have a formidable enemy to face. Thanks to you, things have indeed improved quite a bit since we made the pact. And today, someone seems to have come to help." Thinking about matters on the other side, the black cat continued, "In short, the situation is manageable for now. If it does happen to worsen, and there's time before I die, I'll come to you myself to dissolve the pact."
With that, the light of intelligence vanished from the cat's eyes once more.
"That wasn't-what I meant either." The words came too late. Pei Ye looked at the kitten, once again as quiet as an idiot, gathered his things, and went inside.
Better get to sleep early. Tomorrow was the day Uncle Lin and Lin Jue would be buried.
The next day, at the Lin Residence in the west of town.
The sun stood in the east, and white mourning cloth hung throughout the courtyard.
Lin Lin had few relatives, but there were students he had taught and subordinates he had cared for everywhere. Everyone in the courtyard had come of their own accord to offer condolences. Men of differing ages and dress gathered in groups of three or five, while an opera stage erected to one side rang with lilting song.
Lin Jue's friends, on the other hand, could be counted on one hand—a girl of roughly her age living on the western edge of town, her closest friend since childhood; Master Huang's daughter, who practiced martial arts and always had endless things to say whenever Lin Jue visited the Martial Arts Hall; and Meng Jiao, the son of a neighboring farming family, who had once stubbornly insisted on marrying Lin Jue, but had finally married the daughter of a carpenter in the north of town during the first half of the year.
The two girls sat with the other women, while Meng Jiao leaned alone beside the pavilion, his eyes vacant. No one knew what he was thinking.
"Brother Meng," Pei Ye said as he walked over. "You seem to have been busy lately. What have you been doing?"
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