Chapter 26

Pulling his thoughts back to the present, Pei Ye remembered he had yet to ask the identity of the person outside the wall.

“This…,” Pei Ye hesitated, choosing “girl” over “senior” after a moment, “...Miss, I’m Pei Ye. May I ask your name? I wonder what brings you to Fenghuai—if you need anything, I can introduce you to a few officials at the county office.”

“No need. It’s merely personal business,” the voice beyond the wall said. “I’m Ming Qitian. May I ask you a few questions?”

Ming Qitian? Who is that?

Pei Ye rummaged through his memory for the unfamiliar name; the way she said “I am Ming Qitian” rather than “My name is Ming Qitian” carried a subtle implication.

“Ask away.”

“Has any book or mysterious martial art ever been rumored in your area?”

Pei Ye frowned in confusion. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Good. Thank you.”

Pei Ye froze—was that it?

He couldn’t help reminding her: “You could give me more details. I might recall something.”

The voice beyond the wall paused, then said: “I know no more. Only this—it can be called the ‘Method of Planting Immortality in the Dantian.’”

The unfamiliar term left Pei Ye even more baffled. He repeated: “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Hmm, thank you,” the voice added. “Also, I inadvertently witnessed your sword form. I currently have three items to compensate you: a sword art far inferior to yours, yet still of high caliber; a sword forged by the Eastern Sea Forge, named ‘Yi Shang’; and a small notebook I kept as a child, recording my insights on sword practice. Which would you prefer?”

Pei Ye stared blankly—he never thought merely hearing his sword form could be such a serious matter. Years ago, while reading miscellaneous texts in the office, he’d listened countless times as Shen Changjian practiced in the courtyard.

Perhaps this was the custom outside? After all, one’s family secrets being seen were indeed improper.

But then again, hearing wasn’t seeing, and seeing wasn’t learning. Last night’s black-robed man—even if Pei Ye had shown him the move ten times, he still wouldn’t have known how to counter it; the eleventh time, he still pierced the man’s throat. Now, this person beyond the wall had already deciphered his move through the wall—no matter how unexpected, this technique would gain not the slightest advantage against her.

After careful thought, Pei Ye acted according to his own understanding, his tone solemn: “Miss Ming, I practice swordplay in this courtyard without guarding against others. If you heard it on the street and learned it, that’s your own ability—you needn’t compensate me. Besides, your words have already greatly benefited me.”

The voice beyond the wall paused, then tossed a small jade sword into Pei Ye’s hand. “This is the finest sword art I’ve seen in the past month. I didn’t learn it, but it inspired me greatly. Reciprocity is natural. Since you refuse the gift now, take this sword talisman. When you’re ready, simply infuse it with true Qi to contact me.”

Pei Ye opened his mouth to speak—then suddenly his heart leapt. He rushed to push open the courtyard gate. The street was empty.

He returned, listlessly fiddling with the tiny sword, picked up the black cat lying on the recliner, and began stroking it—then prepared to lie back down. At that moment, the cat suddenly turned its head to look at him.

Those eyes seemed lit with awareness, radiating a spirit Pei Ye recognized all too well. He froze, embarrassed.

But the black cat paid no mind, gazing toward the gate, murmuring: “Do you think… I might have bonded with the wrong person?”

“?”

“‘Young,’ ‘sword,’ ‘clear heart,’ ‘resolute’… nothing fits better.”

Pei Ye stared down at it in disbelief. Though he’d been wary during the bond, hearing this sudden disloyalty still annoyed him. “Aren’t I fitting too?”

“You are fitting, yes—but just as fireflies can illuminate, so too can the full moon.”

“Then go find her,” Pei Ye muttered, lips curling, feeling abandoned.

“Never mind. A wife follows her husband, a dog follows its master,” the cat looked up at him. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait—”

The cat stared at him.

“What’s happening over there? Is the situation still dangerous?” Pei Ye asked.

“Nothing complicated. Just like last night—you have a great enemy, and so do I. Thanks to you, things have improved since the bond. Also, today, it seems a helper arrived.” The cat, thinking of the other side, continued, “For now, the situation is manageable. If it worsens and I have time before death, I’ll come to you to break the bond.”

As she finished, the spiritual light in the cat’s eyes vanished again.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Pei Ye muttered too late. He looked at the cat, now as dull as a fool, and gathered his things to return indoors.

Better sleep early—tomorrow is the funeral for Lin Bo and Lin Jue.

…

…

The next day, Lin’s residence in the west of the city.

The sun rose in the east; the entire courtyard hung in white.

Lin Lin had no close relatives, but countless students he taught and subordinates he cared for came spontaneously to pay respects. Men of all ages and attire gathered in small groups; a stage stood to one side, playing a mournful opera.

Lin Jue’s friends were few: a girl of similar age from the western edge of the city, her lifelong confidante; the daughter of Master Huang, who always had endless words whenever Lin Jue visited the martial school; and Meng Jiao, the son of a neighboring farmer, who once stubbornly pursued Lin Jue but finally married the daughter of a carpenter from the north of the city this spring.

The two girls sat with the womenfolk. Meng Jiao leaned alone beside the pavilion, eyes vacant, lost in thought.

“Meng Ge,” Pei Ye walked over. “You’ve seemed busy lately—what have you been doing?”

“Little Ye,” Meng Jiao turned, his face now mature and steady since marrying. He smiled. “I’ve been collecting hides and herbs from surrounding villages. With just a few mu of land, we barely eat through the year—what’s left doesn’t sell for much.”

“That’s already good enough. Most families barely scrape by.”

Meng Jiao shook his head, lifting his sun-darkened face to the sky, then lowering it again. “My wife is pregnant. I want… I want… our child to study or train in martial arts.”

“Hmm…” Pei Ye opened his mouth. “That’ll cost a fortune.”

“Yes. My mother and my in-laws scold me for it,” Meng Jiao rubbed his foot against the ground, forcing a smile. “But I won’t change my mind.”

His gaze drifted again, unconsciously landing on Lin Jue’s room. He murmured: “Must study, must train…”

“Don’t overwork yourself running around like this.”

“It’s fine. I borrowed a donkey cart from Uncle Lu. When he’s not hauling wine, I use it—I pay him each time. In another half year, I’ll save enough to buy my own donkey.”

“Oh? Sounds profitable?” Pei Ye chuckled.

“I’ve had my eye on this trade—it’s uncompetitive. Just work hard—hey, why keep talking about me? Right in front of me stands the young hero everyone wants to see.”

Pei Ye shook his head with a smile.

“I heard even several officials couldn’t handle that villain—you cleanly cut his throat.” Meng Jiao sighed. “Truly impressive. I genuinely admire you.”

“Saying that… it was just luck.”

Meng Jiao shook his head, gripping Pei Ye’s wrist. “I mean it, Little Ye. I truly respect you. I saw the head on the coffin lid—it was satisfying. When I heard last night that Little Jue and Lin Da were killed, I was furious, terrified, panicked… and humiliated. Remember when Little Jue used to watch you practice? I used to sulk about it. Now I understand: without ability, you can’t hold your head high. Little Ye, you’re truly capable.”

Pei Ye said nothing. Meng Jiao glanced at the sky. “Enough. I remember Little Jue made a few little trinkets she was proud of. She joked she’d take them to her grave. If you’re free, why not go look in her room?”

“Yes, I remember that,” Pei Ye recalled. “But I can’t recall which ones—let’s go look together.”

“A bamboo birdcage, a small clay teapot painted with a black-and-white puppy, a yellow jade seal the size of a thumb, and a set of palm-thick illustrated stories. Find whatever you can—it was just a joke.” Meng Jiao picked up the sack beside him. “I won’t go in—it’s inappropriate. I’ve work this afternoon—I must leave.”

“So busy?”

“Old Mo from the eastern village owes me two hides. He promised to bring them when he came to town the day before yesterday—but still no word. I’m going to check what happened.”

“Oh. Some mountain paths are still damp—be careful.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve walked these roads all my life.” Meng Jiao waved, shouldering the heavy sack and exiting the courtyard.

Pei Ye watched him vanish from sight, sighed silently, and turned toward Lin Jue’s room.

Meng Jiao truly loved Lin Jue with pure sincerity—but if they had married, not only would Lin Jue, lowered to a peasant household, have struggled to adapt, but for the Meng family, a daughter-in-law with a crippled hand, unable to labor, would have been no blessing.