Chapter 79

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Protagonist:

Shaowei

Liu Qi

Shaowei gently set down the unconscious Qingwu.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard holding a bow, his line of sight obstructed by the grass stack, had quickly climbed onto the small courtyard wall top and stood there, rapidly nocking an arrow and drawing the string again; as the sharp arrowhead moved to aim, the instant a vermilion figure flashed out from behind the grass stack, the arrow in the Embroidered Uniform Guard's hand left the string.

The young woman's figure dodged half a step to the left, immediately evading the arrow's flight path; she neither retreated nor hid but instead sprinted straight toward the archer's direction. In the turbid morning mist, that Embroidered Uniform Guard was just about to nock another arrow when he saw the young woman's figure move like lightning, dust and fallen leaves rising beneath her feet, pouncing forward like a wolf-leopard impossibly agile and fiercely aggressive—

The pouncing process was also one of gathering power; the small courtyard wall top was not high, it was one Shaowei had vaulted over countless times, she could leap up with her eyes closed, but this time was different—she was doing it to kill.

Since it was killing, it ought to be faster, more explosive.

This kind of fearless, unevasive, beast-like pouncing kill method was simply unheard of; that Embroidered Uniform Guard lowered his body intending to dodge and leap down from the wall top first, but he only managed to turn his body halfway before that shadow had already pounced, one hand clamping onto his right shoulder like pincers, the other hand gripping an arrow stained with palm blood and fiercely stabbing it into his throat!

Under this kind of violent collision, in this inch-narrow space atop the wall, no one could keep their footing, but Shaowei did not care at all; she truly, like tearing and biting prey to death, recklessly grabbed that prey struggling with wide eyes and fell with a thud into the courtyard.

The instant she hit the ground, she knelt on one knee pinning that Embroidered Uniform Guard's body, extended her right arm and drew the saber from his waist, and in this clump of turbid mist dyed red by blood qi, lifted the saber and rose upright.

The several Embroidered Uniform Guards who had rushed out of the hall holding sabers saw this scene, and all their faces showed several degrees of shock.

That young woman's face was stained with blood beads, like a ferocious wild beast.

Her eyes fixed on them, within them unconcealed furious killing intent, as if enraged that they had intruded into her territory, touched what she cherished and cared for.

This was absolutely not the shallow emotion a mature killer should reveal; she was very immature, very irrational, and therefore even more fierce, even more dangerous.

This surging danger rushed at them, and killing intent instantly gathered in their eyes; they immediately raised their sabers and surrounded to kill.

A fire had already started in the stove house; the Embroidered Uniform Guards who had searched without result wanted to burn this place clean, destroying every trace related to that green-clothed woman's existence.

The Embroidered Uniform Guard setting the fire had just run out of the stove house when, in his peripheral vision, he suddenly saw a grey shadow drift over like wind and mist; the grey-clothed person's long saber left its scabbard, and blood mist immediately sprayed and spread.

A knight-errant cannot escape ten thousand troops, cannot kill a hundred Embroidered Uniform Guards, but a mature top-tier knight-errant teaming up with another brand-new knight-errant who is not yet mature but has fierceness to spare can kill a dozen cruel officials.

These thirteen Embroidered Uniform Guards were like wolves separated from their pack, suffering the pouncing and tearing of even more ferocious beasts.

They originally thought the most important target of this trip had been captured, leaving only tender grass shoots, but they never expected the true killing intent lay in this mopping-up stage.

The person who should have fled turned back, like a Rakshasa looking back, corpses strewn across the field.

The not-large small courtyard was filled with corpses; the stove house fire had already spread to the main house, fire tongues swallowing and spitting, twisting and dancing in the wind.

The last living person lay by the well, a blood-dripping saber tip pressed against his breastbone, the hand holding the saber also dripping blood, the hand's owner was injured, her vermilion-white dress turned tattered, her face and body covered in blood, impossible to tell which was hers and which was others'.

This sole remaining Embroidered Uniform Guard trembled as he looked at this saber-wielding young woman looking down at him.

She had already killed so many people, yet the anger in her eyes had not dissipated in the slightest; morning wind and fire waves rushed and swirled, lifting her tattered clothes, jet-black hair, vermilion ribbons—everything related to her seemed stained with blood and fire; only her interrogating voice was cold beyond words: "Where is she?"

The saber tip pierced through the robe, cold enough to make one's breath catch; that Embroidered Uniform Guard could only rely on instinct, answering in a trembling voice: "Dead, she is already dead…"

The hand gripping the saber clenched tighter, tight enough to add a trace of trembling; Shaowei asked again: "Where is the corpse!"

Flames seemed to burn into her eyes; those blood-red eyes stared dead at that Embroidered Uniform Guard's eyes, trying to see through all truth and falsehood, and from within desperately grasp a sliver of surviving hope.

"The corpse, was taken away…" the Embroidered Uniform Guard recalled the events, his pupils' light and shadow swaying with the flames, hazily reflecting fragments of that time.

Autumn wilderness, guided by the Red Yang Immortal Master, they surrounded that green-clothed woman.

Commander Zhu leapt down from the horse's back, seemingly finding it absurd, let out a laugh, and asked in puzzlement: "How did it become a woman?"

The Red Yang Immortal Master, clad in a black robe blocking the sunlight, spoke slowly beside him: "I have no fellow disciple senior brother."

He looked at that green-clothed woman and said: "There is only one Shixiong."

Most Embroidered Uniform Guards could not hear these dialogues; they merely obeyed orders, not even knowing who they were to surround and capture. Those on the outer perimeter were ordinary Embroidered Uniform Guards; only those standing beside Commander Zhu had the chance to hear these few sentences.

Besides hearing these words, this Embroidered Uniform Guard also saw that green ox, which the green-clothed woman had released early, come galloping back to protect its master.

The green ox rampaged and collided, took an arrow but refused to stop; Commander Zhu personally wielded his saber and severed one front hoof the green ox had raised.

The green ox knelt and fell to the ground, and that green-clothed woman actually blocked in front of the green ox.

Although the green ox's collision changed positions and he couldn't quite hear what the green-clothed woman said, he could vaguely judge that this woman wanted to protect this ox, even at a life-and-death juncture she still cared for a head of livestock—this was simply absurd.

This was indeed amusing; Commander Zhu couldn't help but laugh, then looked toward the Red Yang Immortal Master.

The Red Yang Immortal Master walked toward that green-clothed woman.

To cut off the green-clothed woman's possibility of resistance, Commander Zhu had shot an arrow through her right shoulder at the very start; that crossbow bolt was lodged in her shoulder, she stood up from before the green ox, yet seemed unable to perceive pain, her bearing and posture still carefree and elegant in the autumn wind.

Red Yang walked before her, the two faced each other, green robe and dark robe, one heaven-blue, one earth-dark.

She said a sentence, seemingly greeting him as junior brother, or perhaps something else.

Having other important matters to attend to, Commander Zhu, already seated back on the horse's back, had no patience to watch any greeting.

Red Yang held a short blade with a white bone handle in his hand; Red Yang personally pushed this blade into the left side of that green-clothed woman's chest, until it pierced through.

The Red Yang Immortal Master was covered by a wide black robe, a wind hood concealing his expression.

That green-clothed woman's expression was also unclear, but even across a distance, one could feel she had not the slightest fear or avoidance of death; the corner of her mouth moved slightly, unknown what sentence she said, as if utterly calm and resigned.

And the Red Yang Immortal Master, upon hearing that sentence, suddenly let out a burst of fine, low laughter.

Commander Zhu on the horse also laughed, a laugh of finding it interesting.

Heart pierced through, even immortals cannot save.

Commander Zhu intended to have the corpse burned here, but the Red Yang Immortal Master demanded to take the body away; after Commander Zhu asked the purpose, he laughed even louder, nodded and readily agreed, immediately turned the horse's head and ordered departure from this place.

Commander Zhu urged the horses southward without stopping; few people knew what important matter lay to the south.

But uprooting the roots was still something that had to be done; the Red Yang Immortal Master reminded Commander Zhu that the people left behind by the green-clothed woman, whether old or young, strong or weak, not a single one could be left, otherwise they would inevitably become a great calamity; it was just that the other party had likely already fled at the wind, and they must pursue and kill them as fast as possible.

Commander Zhu anxious to travel south, thus left behind several dozen of them to wrap up this matter.

The remaining troops followed Zhu Zhi southward, horse hooves splashing bits of autumn mud.

The further south, the more rugged and difficult the roads; in the desolate lands even proper official roads were hard to build, jungles and scattered rocks, high mountains embracing.

Where the men and horses passed, a few wild maples grew in the mountains, their thin and upright leaves reddened by half; seen from afar they looked like a fire burning, a fire that had only burned halfway and was now spreading toward the other half.

The fire in the small courtyard had already spread over most of it; the household slaves who had seen Qingwu off home had already returned, one of them grabbing Shaowei — who had just finished off the last living witness — by the arm and taking her away before the firefighting crowd arrived.

The smoke stung the eyes until tears rolled; Shaowei, whose sense of smell had always been keen, distinguished many scents within the flames: Jiang Fu's herbs, wine diluted with water, the vegetables and meat Mo Li had cut but not yet put in the pot… and many, many others.

Shaowei, seized by the arm and running with the household slave, endured the tears and firmly memorized these scents, finally looking back once at the blurred outline of Taoxi Township.

Three hundred-odd li south of Taoxi Township stands a simple post station.

Post stations throughout Great Qian mainly serve those transmitting official documents and military intelligence, as well as traveling officials who stop mid-journey for lodging, meals, and fresh horses.

The more important or prosperous the location, the more complete the post station's provisions, and the better the lodging, meals, and horses it can provide.

But the further south one goes, the harder the road; post stations in remote, barren mountains and waters where few tread are inevitably crude and frugal — this one had only three poor-quality skinny horses; three scrawny, inferior horses chewed grass listlessly in the stable, presumably having waited a long time without anyone willing to ride them; one couldn't tell how many years they had stood guard in this post station, their perfunctory, time-serving air seeming pickled into their bones, perfectly matching this frugal post station.

The post station master responsible for this place was already advanced in years, spending his days muddling through; whenever he met someone he would say his eyes were dim and ears deaf and he was no longer useful — until this afternoon, when a squad of vigorous men and horses the likes of which had never been seen came galloping up, startling the post station master into instant alertness, with the air of a dying patient suddenly sitting up in shock; he bustled about, not daring the slightest negligence.

This force numbered several hundred — precisely the rumored Brocade Guard who bear credentials and convey imperial orders; their leader was none other than Zhu Zhi, Commander of the Brocade Guard.

These people were arrogant and overbearing, their aura pressing; the entire post station staff, including the post station master, fewer than ten runners in all, were run ragged — boiling water, feeding horses, running to the nearest county to borrow grain and supplies; the post station master was both flustered and alarmed, fearing any misstep, his sweat never drying.

The post station master did not dare inquire why these people had come; he could only guess privately: could it be they came seeking immortals and elixirs for the Son of Heaven? Though their jurisdiction was barren and full of poisonous things, last year there had been vague hearsay of fishermen claiming to have encountered some sea witch goddess at sea…

Whether the sea witch goddess was real or false unknown, but these evil stars before him absolutely could not be offended; the post station master had never in his life stood such high-intensity duty; half a day in he felt two generations younger, bowing his waist everywhere to play the grandson.

The tiny post station naturally could not house these several hundred; every available room had been cleared, and even laying bedding everywhere could only barely accommodate half; fortunately the south in the ninth month was not cold, and these Brocade Guard who kill without blinking often sleep in the wind and dew, so they were used to it.

But the post station master knew the night dampness was a major problem; these people from the north might not withstand a night of dew; therefore the straw must be laid thick, the quilts sufficient, and fires lit to warm them.

Just as the sky turned fully dark, with great difficulty enough firewood was gathered and fires lit — then the sound of horse hooves rolled out in waves; the post station master turned and saw a line of men and horses galloping away.

The post station master hurriedly inquired, only to learn it was Brocade Guard leader Zhu Zhi taking most of the force into the Cloud-Swaying Mountain ahead.

The post station master was greatly alarmed; Cloud-Swaying Mountain is vast and treacherous; entering at night is something even locals dare not do!

Zhu Zhi had a terrain map in hand, and had also seized seven or eight local hunters to guide the way.

Entering the mountain certainly carries risk, but tonight he had to enter this mountain no matter what.

Past this continuous Cloud-Swaying Mountain lies the territory of Wuling Commandery.

He had received definite intelligence that that party had already escorted Ling Congnan into Cloud-Swaying Mountain from the east side.

Those escorting Ling Congnan were very familiar with the southern terrain; his men had several times nearly lost them, but the hounds Zhu Zhi raised were not stupid dogs that eat for nothing; once they locked on, there was no thought of escape.

Although entering the mountain would be somewhat troublesome, as long as he could catch Ling Congnan here tonight, that little ghost Liu Qi would not be able to extricate himself from the charge of harboring a criminal's son.

Conversely, if Ling Congnan got out of this mountain and entered Wuling Commandery, catching him red-handed afterward would not be so easy.

Springing the trap here was the best and surest choice; before dawn he must catch that little snake surnamed Ling.

He already had a thorough route plan; he must intercept Ling Congnan and trap him in this mountain; Ling Congnan's escort numbered only a dozen or so; and if Liu Qi dared send men to reinforce, causing armed conflict with his men, the evidence would be even more airtight… openly clashing with the Brocade Guard pursuing the remnants of a traitorous minister constitutes rebellion; at that time the Imperial Bestowed Treasure Blade in his hand might well directly behead that sinister, arrogant little ghost!

Thinking of this, Zhu Zhi's eyes flickered with hidden excitement.

Upon entering the mountain, Zhu Zhi confirmed the approximate position of Ling Congnan's party via signals released by his subordinates from high ground; he then divided the force into three routes to encircle and intercept.

Zhu Zhi personally led one squad closing in; midway the road grew increasingly impassable, so Zhu Zhi had to temporarily abandon the horses, leaving ten men to guard them; he led the rest, bearing torches, armed with bows, crossbows, and blades, and pressed on.

In the mist-wreathed mountain forest, screams rang out.

It was Ling Congnan's party and Zhu Zhi's confidants who had been tracking them in the dark; the two sides had finally engaged in direct slaughter.

Zhu Zhi, determined to succeed, drew the long saber at his waist and led his men rapidly toward the sounds of slaughter.

Then a bizarre thing suddenly occurred.

In the pitch-black deep mountains, a strange flute sound and copper bell sound suddenly rang out, echoing incessantly in the ears.