Children of the Jianghu

Yue Hongling dearly wanted to say, Wait until my wounds heal, my ass. Do you even know how many days you'll need to rest?

He had suffered more than an injury from her counterattack... The exhaustion from forcing out his ultimate technique was far more outrageous. Yue Hongling could tell that his blood and qi were utterly depleted, his muscles limp. The true qi she had just praised for its quality had now run so dry that not a trace remained. Even a goose could beat him to death right now.

Yet he was still laughing, utterly delighted, genuinely looking forward to their next fight.

What a bold, fiery spirit.

A man like this should never have been dragged into romantic nonsense. He was born to cleave mountains and rivers with his saber in the jianghu.

Yue Hongling pursed her lips. Rather than mock him, she simply said, "I have some idea of the nature of your true qi now."

"Hmm?" Zhao Changhe looked up at her.

"Just now, you weren't using true qi to power Gods and Buddhas Scattered. You used the power of your blood and qi alongside your true qi, and they actually blended together as though they came from a single art. That means its compatibility is unparalleled. It can transform into any kind of power you need, whether internal or external. For you, right now, it amounts to an extra reserve of blood and qi for the Blood Baleful Art."

Zhao Changhe said delightedly, "That's great!"

Yue Hongling said, "That's because the Blood Baleful Art is your main focus right now. I suspect that once you cultivate it further, the relationship will reverse. Whatever else you cultivate, this true qi will be able to absorb and accommodate it. Its principle of embracing a hundred rivers like the sea is extraordinarily grand. I don't know who created it, but they were truly remarkable."

Zhao Changhe nodded slightly. That made sense... It fit perfectly with Xia Longyuan's reasoning in leaving an art for an illegitimate son living outside the palace. Whatever the child learned from his mother or anyone else, this art could accommodate it all, and in the later stages, everything would still be converted into his art as the foundation. And this principle of a hundred rivers returning to the sea was fitting for an emperor-or perhaps a better way of putting it was that all land beneath heaven belonged to the sovereign.

For the first time, Zhao Changhe felt a little respect for this old emperor he had never met. The man really was fucking impressive. A thought suddenly arose in his mind: could someone this formidable truly become muddleheaded in his later years and let chaos run rampant? Logically, he wasn't even that old. For a godlike cultivator of his level, did being well into his sixties or seventies count as old?

Could there be something else behind this... Had he actually died already? Or had something gone wrong with his cultivation, sending him into qi deviation?

While he was still pondering, Yue Hongling had already sauntered inside. "Whatever you're thinking about, you have to rest properly tonight. It seems I'm not the one sheltering here to recover anymore. Instead, I'll have to stand guard for you."

Zhao Changhe painfully shuffled into the room, one step at a time. The first thing he saw upon entering was Yue Hongling applying medicine and bandaging the wound on her lower abdomen.

Strangely enough, they had previously felt this was something he should avoid watching. Zhao Changhe had hidden outside, and Yue Hongling had even blushed. Yet now, looking at her, he wondered what there was to deliberately avoid. It was just a wound on her belly, and a rather hideous-looking one at that. What romantic intimacy could anyone possibly see in this? There was absolutely none.

Perhaps it was simply because, back then, they could still have been considered strangers who had met only once, whereas now they were friends?

He didn't know. In any case, Zhao Changhe glanced at her and felt nothing in particular. He went to sit on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes to recover. Yue Hongling likewise finished applying the medicine and securing the bandage, then sat cross-legged on a chair nearby and closed her eyes. It all felt perfectly natural.

Before long, both had settled into meditation, and the night finally returned to silence.

This seemed to be precisely the scene Yue Hongling had wanted when she came seeking shelter, only it had taken a little longer to arrive... If only those embarrassing incidents hadn't happened. Before entering meditation, almost the same thought flashed through both their minds.

Early the next morning, Yue Hongling finished her recuperation first and opened her eyes.

Zhao Changhe was still meditating, his brows slightly furrowed. He looked as though he was in pain.

It wasn't the pain of recovering from exhaustion, but the Blood Baleful Art's inherent affliction. It was harder to endure when he was weakened than it normally was. Still, his internal art appeared to be helping soothe it, so his condition was reasonably good.

Watching him, Yue Hongling thought about how this man suffered more in cultivation than most people. The torment of the Blood Baleful Art could strike at any moment, and the harder he cultivated, the more frequently it occurred. Many members of the Blood God Cult who practiced it simply gave up trying, yet Zhao Changhe worked harder and harder, as though challenging the pain: Come at me!

Outsiders saw none of this. All they saw was his spirit soaring into the clouds, his momentum like a mighty river.

He had repeatedly asked about various arts from every possible angle, as well as about his age, simply because he wanted to know whether his current art could replace the Blood Baleful Art. The final answer was that it couldn't, not yet. He must have been deeply disappointed, but none of it showed on his face. He remained as carefree as ever.

Yue Hongling knew she truly admired people like him. He had said that he saw the jianghu of his imagination in her, but from her perspective, wasn't the same true of him?

A bandit's air? She had plenty of that herself. Chivalry and a bandit's spirit were often very close. Perhaps both could be called children of the jianghu, very different from people like Cui Yuanyong. In Cui Yuanyong's eyes, Yue Hongling was merely a crude woman steeped in a bandit's roughness.

She and Zhao Changhe were the same kind of person, which was why they felt close. Cui Yuanyong was a young gentleman as fine as jade, and genuinely a good man. Suspecting that she had fallen into bandits' hands, he had come to rescue her despite his injuries. But they could hardly piss into the same pot.

Footsteps sounded outside. Someone was approaching.

Yue Hongling laid a hand on her sword hilt, her gaze instantly sharpening.

Knock, knock. Someone rapped on the door. "Boss."

Yue Hongling exhaled and turned to glance at Zhao Changhe. His brows were still drawn in pain. She shook her head and went to open the door.

The cook stood outside with several cornmeal buns, two bowls of thin porridge, and a few small plates of side dishes. Seeing that "the boss's wife" had opened the door, a flash of astonishment crossed his eyes, but he quickly stopped himself from looking any longer. Lowering his head, he offered an ingratiating smile. "Morning, ma'am. This is the breakfast the boss ordered, with an extra portion for you."

Yue Hongling pressed a hand to her forehead. Everything except this sort of thing.

If only they would stop calling her the boss's wife. Without this damned nonsense, things would be much more comfortable.

But at this point, she could only keep playing the role. Resigned, Yue Hongling reached out to take the tray. "Thanks."

The cook rubbed his hands together. "You're truly like a heavenly fairy, ma'am. The boss is a lucky man."

Lucky, my ass. Lucky to heal his wounds and meditate? Irritated, Yue Hongling turned back inside and set the tray heavily on the table.

Just then, Zhao Changhe opened his eyes. The pain on his face slowly eased, soon replaced by his familiar, hearty smile. "Morning. Oh, breakfast's here? I don't know what you usually eat in the morning, so make do with this for now."

"We're children of the jianghu. Why be so fussy?" Yue Hongling sat at the table with one foot planted on the stool beside her and drank the porridge in great gulps.

She looked very different from when he had first seen her yesterday, leaning against the windowsill. Zhao Changhe actually found this more familiar. This was how a woman of the jianghu ought to be, not some demure young lady from a respectable household.

He went to splash water on his face and give himself a quick wash, then sat opposite Yue Hongling with a smile. "You look full of energy. Are your wounds healed?"

"They weren't very serious to begin with. There was only that one external wound, and just a little Sword Qi causing the internal injury. A good night's recuperation cleared most of it away. Another two or three days and I'll be fully recovered." Yue Hongling frowned. "You use such strange expressions. 'Full of energy'..."

"Zhao Cuo dialect. As long as you get the general meaning." Zhao Changhe paused, looking a little distracted. "Maybe after a while, you won't hear those expressions coming out of my mouth anymore. In the end, I'll have to... blend into the jianghu."

Yue Hongling thought he meant that everyone in Zhao Cuo was dead, leaving no one to speak his hometown dialect with him. She couldn't help sighing a little herself. "If only I'd arrived a little sooner..."

"The past is the past. There's no point saying that now. Do you want me to keep talking about how you saved my life?"

Yue Hongling said irritably, "I haven't seen much gratitude from you at all."

"Then why do you think I wanted to kill Cui Yuanyong yesterday when I saw you were injured? I have no grudge against him. I've never even met him. Do you really think it was because I'm secretly in love with Yue Hongling? Don't let other people's wild guesses lead you into believing them yourself."

Yue Hongling: "..."

"Oh, speaking of Cui Yuanyong, I don't know much about these great clans. Could you give me a quick introduction?"

"I told you yesterday that not everyone has access to divine arts and secret techniques. Over time, those who possessed good arts established prestigious sects and powerful hereditary clans. That's perfectly normal. What is there to explain?"

"Then why are they also the Qinghe Cui?"

"Also?" Yue Hongling was baffled. "Why can't they be the Qinghe Cui?"

"...Uh, could their lineage date back to the previous era? Or did they obtain some inheritance from that era? To be honest, I deliberately looked through a few history books, but they barely mentioned any of this."

"I don't know either. These great clans are indeed far older than Great Xia. Dynasties have risen and fallen, yet they're still here... If you're interested in their lineage's glorious history, you should ask Cui Yuanyong himself. I'm sure he'd be happy to boast about it a little, though how much of it would be true is another question."

"Would he bother with me?"

Yue Hongling considered it. "Hard to say. These scions of great clans are all outwardly refined and exceedingly courteous, but I always feel there's a detachment and scrutiny in their bones. It's uncomfortable. Since I rank second among the Hidden Dragons, they consider me someone worth knowing and will associate with me. As for you... I don't know how they view someone at the bottom of the Hidden Dragon rankings. You should be all right? At least you're listed in the Book of Troubled Times alongside him."

Zhao Changhe nodded. "Introduce me if you get the chance."

Yue Hongling asked curiously, "Why would you be interested in this, even going out of your way to press your warm face against a cold backside? That doesn't sound like you..."

Zhao Changhe looked at her strangely. Do you know me that well?

Still, her understanding was correct. Given his temperament, he really shouldn't have been interested in this, and he would have been even less inclined to approach some great-clan scion... Unfortunately, exploring the mysteries of this world wasn't something he could do according to his whims. These things were important to clearing away the fog. Whether he liked it or not, he had to make contact.

His strange look left Yue Hongling squirming as though seated on needles. At last, she couldn't stand it anymore and slapped the table. "What are you staring at? I barely know you. What's so strange about getting you wrong? How well have you recovered? Come on, come on, it's time to spar!"

Zhao Changhe didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but he didn't tell her that she really did understand him. He had a feeling that, in this situation, it would sound like teasing and ruin their perfectly good conversation again.

In truth, he did want to spar. Unfortunately, he hadn't recovered well, and he was also afraid Yue Hongling's wound would reopen. After some thought, he asked, "You said you could teach me three things. What was the third?"

"How to locate someone by sound, sense enemies, and..." Yue Hongling suddenly flicked a chopstick from the table. It flew out with a whoosh and lodged in the door. "Long-Range Killing, Soul-Chasing Execution. Do you want to learn?"