Chapter 61: Side Story 2: A Few Happy Life Matters

A frog

Time: Before the establishment of the Wanderless Group

One day, while out on the street, Bingyi forcibly dragged the two of them around for a long time, feeling bored. Suddenly hearing a commotion up ahead, she quickly pushed through the crowd.

It turned out that a local bully had brought his lackeys to collect protection money; the people, frightened, dared not refuse. As they arrived here, the fruit-selling youth stubbornly refused, saying he desperately needed money to treat his mother's illness. The bully would not let it go, ordering his lackeys to give the youth a sound beating, and finally had them carry off the fruit while cursing.

Qiran frowned slightly, about to step forward, but Bingyi grabbed him and asked with a smile, "Do you think his face looks like a frog?"

Without waiting for an answer, the corner of her mouth hidden behind the scarf curled up slightly, a teasing glint flashed in her eyes, and she sauntered forward.

The bully had a fat face, broad ears, a wide basin-like mouth, and a flat, sunken nose; upon closer look, he really did resemble a frog a bit. Qiran chuckled, made no further move, and without turning his head said to the person behind him, "Looks like you'll have to clean up her mess again later."

Bu Sha's expression remained unchanged as he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Sir, are these fruits your lackeys are carrying for sale?" Bingyi blocked their path and politely asked.

The bully was first startled, then burst out laughing: "Sell? Of course, a flat rate of one tael of silver per catty."

The crowd began to mutter amongst themselves, but under the bully's glare they dared not speak out.

"Fine!" Bingyi cheerfully tossed out a silver ingot (she didn't mind spending someone else's money), pointed at a basket of melons, and said with a smile, "I'll take these gourds."

The bully, who had been happily picking up the silver, blinked in confusion: "This is clearly a melon—how can you call it a gourd?"

Bingyi exclaimed in surprise, "Sir, how can you not tell the difference between a gourd and a melon? This is obviously a gourd!"

The bully felt a flash of displeasure, but being a man of means he didn't want to come to blows; he merely raised his voice slightly to retort, "This is clearly a melon!"

"It's a gourd!" one man shouted, his face flushed.

"It's a melon!" another replied, his ears red.

"Gourd! Gourd!" one person stamped his foot.

"Melon! Melon!" another glared.

"Gourd! Gourd! Gourd!"

"Melon! Melon! Melon!"

The bully's eyes reddened, he turned to the crowd and roared, "You lot, say whether this is a gourd or a melon!"

At this point, Bingyi could no longer hold back, clutching her stomach as she laughed until tears welled at the corners of her eyes. Qiran struggled to keep from laughing, his body trembling even as he lowered his head. Even Bu Sha's eyes held a hint of amusement.

The crowd went from initial stunned silence to gradual realization, and unstoppable laughter spread through the street like spring thunder hitting the ground, most people clutching their stomachs as they laughed and groaned.

The bully, still unaware of what had happened and about to fly into a rage, Bingyi had already wiped the last tear from her eye, straightened up with effort, and said, "I never expected you to not only look like a frog, but even your voice to be so lifelike—I'm deeply impressed, Miss! Haha… ow!"

The outcome was obvious: Bu Sha tossed the lackeys into a heap like stacked arhats, and Bingyi carefully examined the bully, now bruised and swollen-faced from lying at the bottom, before saying with a dawning realization, "No wonder you're so angry—I was mistaken; you don't really look like a frog after all, you're more like… a toad!"

"Haha…" laughter filled the street, a vitality long unseen.

The three of them, however, slipped away amid the revelry with faint smiles.

Two Love Songs

Time: Before the establishment of the Wanderless Group

That day, the weather was damp with continuous overcast rain, forcing the three to hole up in the room to "rest and recuperate". To pass the time, Bingyi continued to ask Qiran for instruction on playing the ancient jade lute. At first she was still enthusiastic, but later she began to complain nonstop.

"How can these palace, shang, jiao, zhi, and yu notes be so difficult? I'm starting to miss the staff notation."

Qiran saw her little face fall, her lips puffed out, and couldn't help but chuckle, "What is staff notation?"

This question sparked Bingyi's interest; she dipped her pen in ink and, while drawing on the paper, excitedly explained. Qiran, being sharp, quickly grasped the rule and, somewhat surprised, praised, "Indeed, it's much simpler than the old notation—Bingyi, where did you learn this?"

This praise genuinely made Bingyi a little smug. Since the origins of the staff notation couldn't be detailed, she simply pretended ignorance and turned away with a covert grin. Turning her head, she happened to catch Bu Sha's disdainful smirk. Recalling how he had likewise mocked her failed internal cultivation attempts a few days earlier, someone felt a surge of irritation.

Suddenly a flash of inspiration struck; Bingyi's lips curled into an evil little smile as a brilliant idea formed in her mind. Unfazed by Qiran's startled expression, she snatched the jade lute from the table, held it upright against her chest, and with a flick of her finger a lively stream of notes flowed out naturally.

Before playing, she deliberately threw a "seductive glance" at Bu Sha, so much that even the ice‑mountain‑like assassin couldn't help but shudder, quickly going on guard. Qiran, meanwhile, had already put on a look of amused interest, relaxed and attentive. Even so, the two were still… affected by what followed…

The handsome guy across from them looked over.

(He paused his gesture, threw a seductive glance, and a certain assassin felt a chill.)

(Cough!) The handsome guy across from them looked over.

Look over, look over

The performance here is wonderful

Please don't pretend to ignore it

(A certain assassin was petrified……)

The handsome guy across from them looked over

Look over, look over

Don't be scared by my appearance

Actually I'm quite cute

The sorrow of a lonely girl

Who would understand if I said it out loud

Please, throw me a seductive glance

Coax me

Make me laugh happily

……

Qiran turned his face away; though his expression was hidden, the constant trembling of his shoulders showed how hard he was struggling to hold back his laughter.

Bu Sha kept a stern face, rose, and smoothly pulled open the door; Bingyi saw his hand on the doorknob twitching incessantly. She instinctively plucked a string, about to sing again, when the person at the doorway stumbled and hurriedly shut the door.

Bingyi and Qiran exchanged a glance, and unable to restrain themselves any longer, the room burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Three Merry Christmas

Time: Tianhe 1260, Year 1, December 24

Location: Qi Kingdom Imperial Palace

Main characters: Shui Bingyi (me), Wei Lingfeng

I blinked, then blinked again, watching Wei Lingfeng sign his name on the newly revised warship diagram, writing the date.

Heavenly Harmony 1260, December 24.

"So tonight is Christmas Eve!" I sighed.

"Christmas Eve?" Wei Lingfeng looked at me with a puzzled, suddenly gloomy expression, "Not happy?"

I shook my head: "I just thought of my hometown; at this time it must be brightly lit, everyone gathered around the Christmas tree, celebrating joyfully. Then they exchange a 'Merry Christmas.'"

"Happy hatching?" Wei Lingfeng thought in astonishment, "What's happy about hatching eggs?"

"Well, because tomorrow is the annual Christmas…" I sighed lightly again. I've been in the past for almost a year, and I don't know whether my dad, older brother, and Xiao Yu can spend this Christmas happily.

Around ten at night (Hai hour), I was about to retire, when Xin Hui hurried over.

"Miss, Li Gonggong relayed the Emperor's command, saying you must go to Fengyin Hall immediately."

I was stunned; at this hour, what could Wei Lingfeng want me to do?

When I stepped out of Luoying Gong, I was startled; the palace, which should have been silent and dim at this hour, was instead brightly lit. Rows of lanterns hung along every corridor, and each hall glowed with brilliant candlelight.

I followed the eunuch to Fengyin Hall in a daze, watching the pavilions' eaves, each delicately bearing a few candlesticks. Every pavilion seemed to shimmer, and faintly I heard songs from an ancient world…

We wish a merry Christmas! …

"Wei… the Emperor… these…" I stood before Wei Lingfeng, looking at his graceful smile, yet I couldn't hide the slight unease in my eyes.

"You may step back!"

Wei Lingfeng waved his hand; when only the two of us remained in Fengyin Hall, he suddenly took my hand: "I have something to show you."

Instinctively I wanted to pull my hand back, but for some reason, looking at the brightly lit palace, I let him lead, after all… his hand was warm, I thought.

I was pulled along—more accurately, I climbed for a long time—until we reached the top floor of Fengyin Hall, arguably the highest perch in the entire palace.

A cold wind whistled, I shivered, looked around, yet I still had no idea what he intended to show me.

A warm cloak settled on me; Wei Lingfeng released my hand and helped fasten its clasp. His handsome face became even more dazzling in the darkness: "Wait a moment, it will begin shortly." His soft breath brushed my cheek.

I came to my senses, turned my gaze where he was looking, and felt a faint, excited anticipation of what gift I might receive on Christmas Eve.

He suddenly squeezed my hand tighter; the voice that should have looked down on the world now carried a childish pride: "It begins!"

I kept my eyes fixed, staring at the brightly lit palace below.

The lights, suddenly—gone!

Then straight ahead, in the Imperial Garden where I wander daily, a light slowly began to shine.

Jumping flames gradually linked together, forming a ring; faint candlelight and moonlight revealed, at the center of the fire, a massive hundred‑year‑old tree.

Suddenly the light flickered from the treetop, quickly spreading over the entire trunk.

It was… "Ah—" I clamped my mouth shut; it was a Christmas tree!

A tree, without colorful Christmas lights, yet an unusually warm ancient Christmas tree.

I… I always thought Wei Lingfeng asked me what a Christmas tree looked like merely out of curiosity, just… a moment of boredom.

"Do you like it?" Wei Lingfeng laughed, smoothing my wind‑tousled hair and carefully tucking it behind my ear.

I smiled and nodded, my gratitude sincere.

Wei Lingfeng chuckled, gripping my gradually warming hand, and said softly, "It's not over yet."

I was slightly surprised, staring straight down, daring not to blink for fear of missing something spectacular.

The flames on the ring slowly extinguished until they vanished. Yet in an instant, strange sparks leapt before the Christmas tree, inch by inch, spreading straight outward parallel to the tree.

Then, slowly, the burning flames formed four characters…

Hatching—Joy?!

I raised my hand and rubbed my eyes; nothing changed. I rubbed and stared again—my God! It really is… Hatching Joy!

"Ha ha… Hatching Joy!!" I laughed so hard my whole body had no strength, collapsing limp in Wei Lingfeng's arms; even my breathing was shallow, yet I couldn't stop, "Wei Lingfeng, Hatching… Hatching Joy, ha ha— you too have such a blunder of a day!"

Wei Lingfeng forced a wry smile, holding the unsteady me, looking a bit bewildered, a bit annoyed, a bit helpless; after a while he sighed and, indulgently, said, "As long as you're happy."

Poor emperor, he never figured out in his whole life which four characters truly mean Hatching Joy!

Side story three: Memories when the fallen blossoms flutter.

Seeing the person before me repeatedly rinsing his hands with clear water, Bu Sha's dark brows involuntarily knit, and he stepped forward.

"Bu, I never knew that killing felt like this…" the person didn't turn around, but suddenly spoke, his clear, mellow voice trembling slightly, with a hint of suppressed fury.

Bu Sha pressed his lips together, remaining silent.

The person in front halted his motions, stood up, dried the water droplets from his hands, and turned around.

Nothing changed, except a mask now covered his face, and his eyes lost some of their vitality, yet it seemed everything had changed.

"Qi, it's not suitable for you," Bu Sha suddenly said, fully aware…

"Wha…t?" Qi Ran asked bewilderedly, then suddenly laughed to herself, "You mean, killing is not suitable for me?"

Sunlight pierced his smile; Bu Sha blinked, as if he could see that ugly yet warm face from memory.

Then, the same scene: when he began with anticipation, inexplicably… when he felt an inexplicable excitement, that face evaporated like mist into the air.

Qi Ran lifted her slender fingertip to her chest, her smile seeming to weep, "Now there's not a single lingering warmth left."

A prolonged silence, or perhaps a deathly stillness.

Perhaps I really do miss that noisy voice, Bu Sha thought, this feeling isn't intense, not much fluctuation, yet it's as continuous as my own breath, endless.

"Young master, someone named Ao Tianjun requests an audience."

"Brother Ao?" Qi Ran raised an eyebrow slightly, the sorrow on her face easing a bit, "Bu, let's go together to see an old friend."

"Young master, you should know well that founding a nation now is unwise. Not only would your father the Emperor not agree, even the three kingdoms of Qi Yin Yao would not stand by as the fourth faction rises."

"Brother Ao… I need your help," Qi Ran lifted her head, staring at the man before her dressed in red, his blue eyes gently shimmering, as if looking toward a distant horizon. Then she felt something sharp pierce her heart.

"I only want to know, today are you the Prime Minister of Bingling Nation, or the brother Ao who has cared for me since childhood?"

"Qiran… you!" Aotian Jun clenched his fists, light flashing in his eyes, "What exactly do you want to do?"

After a long while, Aotian Jun let out a helpless sigh: "How do you want me to help you?"

"Ao, big brother, thank you!" Qiran softly shouted, his heart suppressing endless bitterness, sorrow, and despair; facing the person closest to him besides his older brother since childhood, an inexplicable surge welled up.

Only then did he manage to suppress it.

Aotian Jun, Wen Ruobin, and Bai Shengyi were there; Bu Sha sat aside, listening and thinking silently. Qiran had secured three of the Four Grand Chancellors; facing that person, he should have a chance to win.

Should… be? A sudden surge of irritation rose in his chest; memories sealed for a thousand years bubbled up in his mind; Bu Sha gripped the Blooddrawing blade he never left behind.

This is enough, Bu—plant the apricot tree here.

Bu Sha said nothing, merely placing the six‑foot‑tall apricot tree into the prepared hole with a relaxed posture, silently watching Qiran carefully pack the soil.

How many trees have we planted now?" Bu Sha gazed toward the lakeshore where fragrance drifted and willows swayed; every blade of grass and every tree here had been planted by his and Qi's own hands.

"When apricot blossom rain dampens the clothes, the willow wind does not chill the face…"

Again, incomprehensible words… Bu Sha shook his head, planted the last willow, and waited for Qiran to pack the soil. But after a moment, there was no movement, and he slowly lifted his head.

"Bu, do you think Bingyi would be happy to see this?" Qiran gazed into the distance, the corners of his mouth slightly curving, "Of course. You didn't see that day, when she painted our three futures, how joyful her expression was!"

Future… happiness? Bu Sha squatted lightly, imitating Qiran's motion, and gently packed the soil bit by bit.

Qiran took out the jade flute he carried, brought it to his lips, and played.

Although he didn't understand, Bu Sha clearly knew this tune—that person's soft voice, low tone, still seemed to echo in his ears. Yet it was only a semblance; he would never hear it again.

Let our weakness learn cruelty.

Face life's coldness head‑on.

Those we loved reluctantly.

Often we have affinity but no destiny.

…………

Back then, when I first held her cold, trembling hand, what had I said? —This world has no forget‑grass. Even if it did, some things could never be forgotten. That's right, that's the line.

Bu Sha sighed inwardly—actually… over those three months, just how much of the past had he really remembered?

The flute's sound had stopped at some point; Bu Sha's somewhat scattered gaze refocused on the tall figure opposite.

"The season of falling blossoms…" Qiran spread his hand to catch a few falling petals and leaves, "Why is it so fleeting?" His clear voice, low with sobs, struck his heart like clashing weapons, inch by inch.

"A shooting star is beautiful in an instant, but longing lasts a lifetime." Bu Sha watched Qiran murmur as he knelt, gently stroking every inch of ground, as tender and pitiful as caressing that person's face.

His long, thick black hair lifted in the wind, veiling his face; his eyes held only droplets reflecting the bright sunlight, which fell onto the grass they had planted and seeped into the soil, disappearing.

Bu Sha's thoughts drifted aimlessly—now forward, now backward—then slowly wandered to that distant night he had nearly forgotten.

"Ah—! Qiran, a shooting star!"

Qi looked at the sky, smiled at her, his gaze like that at a child: "Another one—won't you make a wish?"

Her eyes widened, amber light flashing repeatedly in the night: "So you also make wishes on shooting stars?"

Her words were always strange, dividing us and them into a chasm, two worlds.

Qi stared blankly for a moment, then smiled with relief, but the tenderness and longing in his eyes grew deeper.

"I've tried!" she suddenly lay back on the soft grass, firelight flickering over her scar‑covered face, "Since I realized it could never come true, I stopped wishing. Besides, it's not as good as we imagined…"

She closed her eyes, her long lashes shedding all expression: "A shooting star is like a fleeting love—beautiful in an instant, but missed for a lifetime."

Bu Sha walked along the road leading out of the Snow Pear Garden when his steps suddenly halted; he lightly gripped the Blooddrawing blade in his right hand.

Facing him was an unexpected acquaintance—Aotian Jun.

Aotian Jun flicked his sleeves, his gaze calm as he looked at him like a puppet: "Bu Sha, you've done your task well so far. But the two‑year limit is up…"

"Master, he wants to see you."

Bu Sha walked out of the secluded abandoned garden, his steps steady, breathing even, expression cold as ever. Yet his mind felt as if thousands of needles were pricking him. That person said…

"Don't forget—you took this task yourself in the first place."

"Even if you disobey orders, I can make him fall harder and sink deeper—and you surely know that."

"I give you two choices: follow my plan, or… die in front of Qiran, letting him taste the pain of being abandoned once more."

"I just want to see how deep your so‑called trust can go."

"What I need is someone utterly cold‑blooded and ruthless, with no attachment to this world—Xiao Qiran!"

"As payment, I can tell you a secret closely tied to Qiran…"

Betrayal… really betray Qi?! And then return to that endless dark world of the past?!

—I think we can be friends.

—Qi, let me always protect you. I will never let you die, nor let you be hurt.

Fate has turned to this point and finally returned to the old road—nothing has changed from beginning to end. Then what meaning do Qi's anguish and Bingyi's sacrifice hold? And… what meaning?!

Bu Sha withdrew the Blooddrawing blade, bringing forth a curtain of blood. The warm, sweet‑smelling blood spattered his face and body—as if he had never killed anyone in such a miserable way before.

"Bang—!!" With a huge crash, the door was burst open.

"Third… Third Princess!!" Qianxuan screamed shrilly, his tiny body launching forward.

Bu Sha lifted his head to see Qiran's masked face deathly pale, his trembling lips silently uttering two words: "Yaner…"

Bu Sha lowered his gaze to the Blooddrawing blade, then to the grotesque, blotched corpses on the ground.

—Yaner isn't afraid; she knows Brother Ran will save her. She won't die like Older Sister Xue'er did; she wants to stay with Brother Ran.

That girl, who had never shown the slightest fear even under the Blooddrawing blade, ultimately… still died by his own hand.

"It's him! It's him who killed the third princess!" Qian Xuan hoarsely shouted at Qi Ran, "Young master, why don't you believe us?! It's him who leaked our secrets, it's him who lured us into the trap, it's him who killed the fourth prince, and also... he... he personally killed your only sister. Wah... young master, why do you still protect him!"

The crowd, squeezing past the almost dazed Qi Ran, surged in, completely surrounding Bu Sha.

Bai Shengyi's cold smile, Wen Ruobin's helplessness, Moyan's worry, Aotianjun's silence, Bu Sha — none of them noticed; he only gazed at Qi Ran's eyes growing colder by the day, clenching his fists.

That young master who, no matter how much harm he suffered, would still smile gently; that friend who would rather become ruthless himself than let him come to any harm; that... boy whom Bing Yi repeatedly called a good-for-nothing; finally, he was strangled by his own hands in this bleak autumn.

"Young Master!" Qian Xuan handed the long sword to Qi Ran, his slight frame trembling slightly, "Please, kill this person yourself to avenge the Third Princess, please!!"

Qi Ran lowered his gaze to the sword in his hand, the blade flashing with dazzling cold light, he stepped into the room and spoke lightly and indifferently: "Step back."

"Young Master!!" Aotian Jun, Bai Shengyi, and Qian Xuan—all the people cried out in surprise.

"Get out—get out!!"

Qi Ran stood with his back to him at the window, his long, fair index finger lightly plucking the strings on the table, ding ding dong dong…

"Let us weak ones learn cruelty, harshly face every cold moment in life

…

The innocent soul covered in wounds no longer acknowledges any god.

A beautiful life, a kind person—heartache, sorrow, and worries are too trivial.

……

Just forget the worry‑grass; in dreams, how much do you know?

「……」

Bu Sha quietly gazed at that lonely, desolate silhouette; a soft, melodious song accompanied by the smell of blood that filled the room. In his mind flashed many fragments—happy, exhilarating, hopeful… then confusion.

She said: "If the heart is free, the body bathes in the long wind. Wanderers under heaven, never parting, never abandoning." Her voice was soft, filled with joy.

Never parting… never abandoning! Where is that person who casually spoke those words now?

Bu Sha spread his hand, watching the bloodstain slowly solidify on it. Those small hands that once clapped in celebration with them—where are they now?

That once joyful, free Wanderers' Squad has now… completely disappeared!

「Twang—」 The string snapped suddenly.

「Bu…」 Qi Ran pressed his hand tightly on the string, the broken notes muffling the sorrow, trembling, and choking in his words: "Bingyi once said… even if everyone in the world abandons me, you… will absolutely not! Not… will…"

As it turned out, it was really just because one person was missing—just one person—and that world collapsed.

「Qi, it's me… I betrayed you. 」 Bu Sha gripped the Blooddraw in his hand tightly, step by step walking out of the room; outside awaited him a siege of over a hundred experts, which he knew well.

Bu Sha stared blankly at Qi Ran, who stood like a sovereign before all, sword in hand. Why… would he still save him?

「Let him go! 」 Qi Ran said.

「Young Master… Young Master, how could you do this?! 」 Qian Xuan stared in disbelief at the Young Master who had once been his most admired and closest figure, 「Is it only this assassin that matters to you? Then what are we?! What about Yan'er, who just died a miserable death?! 」

Qi Ran turned, slashing a ferocious bloodstain across Bai Shengyi's hand; his voice ice‑cold, like a hellish asura: 「Didn't you hear me clearly? Whoever dares to move against Bu Sha, I will let him die without a whole corpse! 」

「Young Master! 」 Ao Tianjun, who had been silent until now, finally spoke; his eyes showed undisguised disappointment and anguish: 「You have let me down greatly. Like this, you have no right to oppose your father emperor, nor are you fit to be a king. 」

「Qi Ran…」 Wen Ruobin's eyes held a faint plea: 「You will bring about universal betrayal and estrangement. 」

「And what then? 」 Qi Ran curled the corner of his mouth, a cold smile spreading across his masked face.

「Qi… Ran…」 Bu Sha lowered his head, speaking word by word: 「Didn't you understand what I just said? I really… betrayed you. 」

Qi Ran's body trembled slightly; the cold smile on his face faded, turning into deep sorrow and resolve: 「Bu, you want me to believe you betrayed me. Unless… I die! 」

Before everyone, he repeated it clearly over and over: 「Unless… I die! 」

Ao Tianjun took two steps forward, embraced the trembling Qian Xuan, who shook like chaff, and said softly: 「Enough, Xiao Xuan; the Young Master has made himself perfectly clear. Let's go. 」

「Ruobin, Shengyi, what do you say? 」

Wen Ruobin sighed: 「I will follow the Young Master. 」

Bai Shengyi's lips were blood‑red; he turned his head away and remained silent.

Ao Tianjun held the weeping Qian Xuan as he approached Qi Ran, giving a broad smile: 「Young Master, Brother Ao can't help you anymore; from now on you must look after yourself, understand? 」

Qi Ran nodded blankly, like a puppet manipulated by others; no matter how hard he tried, he could not squeeze out a hint of expression.

The great hall was empty and silent, deathly still.

Qi Ran sheathed his long sword; his eyes, once as beautiful and radiant as the sky, now held only a patch of icy deep blue. His hand clenched the necklace at his chest, tighter and tighter, until bright red blood dripped down.

Then he finally spoke: 「Bu, if you're leaving, just abandon me and go. 」

Bu Sha's lowered head finally lifted; seeing that solitary, desolate silhouette on the deep, dark passageway, it said to him: 「If you still remember the season of falling blossoms…」

「No matter when, you can always come back to our home. 」

The season of falling blossoms has finally… completely vanished.

Bu Sha lightly pressed his clenched fist against his chest; waves of longing, pain, sorrow, and despair surged up like the sea, bubbling forth.

Without the Wanderers' Squad, without a home, and even without true Qi. All that remained was missing one person… one family member.

That ugly visage, that warm smile, that… fleeting season… always thought could be forgotten…

As it turned out, it was merely buried deep in the heart, aching with each heartbeat until numb, yet endless.

(End of chapter)