Chapter 83

Murong Feiyan turned her head, looking at him with some surprise.

"Otherwise, how could there be the saying 'seeing the scene stirs emotion'?"

Murong Feiyan was not moved by his words; her gaze returned to the crescent moon, and she softly said, "This is the most beautiful moon I have ever seen in my life."

Hu Xiaotian chuckled, then said something that Murong Feiyan found utterly shameless: "That's because I am by your side."

Murong Feiyan said, "The original poetic mood was wonderful, but your presence has indeed ruined it."

Hu Xiaotian noticed that Murong Feiyan had also learned to tease, which was indeed a huge change for someone who rarely smiled.

Murong Feiyan also realized her change, understanding it came from being influenced by Hu Xiaotian, who indeed had this ability; along the way his optimism and humor unconsciously infected many, including herself.

Murong Feiyan sat beside him, holding her long sword in her arms, still vigilant, and softly said, "Tonight we will take turns on watch; I worry that the archer might return."

Hu Xiaotian nodded, sighed, and said, "Such a beautiful moonlight should be a fine time for poetry, but bringing up those fellows is a real downer."

Murong Feiyan recalled his impromptu poem on the street that had amazed her, and suddenly suggested, "Since you're feeling inspired, why not compose another one right here?"

Hu Xiaotian gazed with a half-smile at Murong Feiyan's delicate face: "How? Testing me?" Yet he thought to himself, "Not only is my poetic fervor aroused, but my bestial nature is as well."

Murong Feiyan said, "Could it be that you only know that one poem? Indeed, I haven't heard you compose any along the way. Come clean—where did you plagiarize that poem from?" She wasn't wronging him; Hu Xiaotian couldn't write poetry at all—it was pure plagiarism, just done without leaving traces, rather skillfully.

Hu Xiaotian said, "If you really want to test me, give me a topic!" This fellow was full of confidence, having memorized the Three Hundred Tang Poems; even if he couldn't compose, he could still recite, so as a super scholar how could you stump him?

Murong Feiyan looked into the distance; Hu Xiaotian thought she would point at the moon and began imagining "bright moonlight before my bed." But she pointed far off at the big mountain: "Let's take the mountain as the topic! If you do well, I'll take your watch; if you do poorly, you take mine—how about that?"

Hu Xiaotian first nodded, then furrowed his brows, looking as if he were deep in thought.

Murong Feiyan thought she had stumped him and couldn't help laughing: "You can't even come up with something this simple—just admit defeat!"

Hu Xiaotian stood up, took two steps, and said, "Got it—this poem of mine will be absolutely superb!"

"Just bragging!"

Hu Xiaotian said, "But if I say it out loud, even if it were a timeless masterpiece, you'd still say my poem is bad just to avoid taking my watch."

Murong Feiyan replied, "I wouldn't do that; you can be completely at ease."

Hu Xiaotian said, "If I recite this poem and manage to make you laugh openly, then even if I win, what do you think?"

Murong Feiyan secretly thought, "A single poem to make me laugh openly? Do you think you're a poetry immortal? But if you really could make me laugh with a poem, that would show genuine talent; I'd rather take your watch." She then nodded and said, "Fine! That's settled!"

Hu Xiaotian stood firm on the boulder, swaying his head and body, and said, "From afar the mountain looks dark and vague, the top slender, the base thick. One day if it's turned upside down, the base will be slender and the top thick!"

Murong Feiyan couldn't hold back any longer; she giggled and spat, "Nonsense upon nonsense, utterly vulgar—you call this poetry… hehe…"

Hu Xiaotian gazed at her with a half-smile and said, "If you take it seriously, you've already lost!"

From below came Liang Da Zhuang's echoing voice: "What an exquisite line! Every word a pearl, a timeless masterpiece! From afar the mountain looks dark and vague, the top slender, the base thick. One day if it's turned upside down, the base will be slender and the top thick! Young master, great talent, young master, great talent!" Flattery knows no occasion.

Plagiarism, still plagiarism, and plagiarism has its grades; to succeed in winning a beauty's smile, it's not enough to merely charm with talent—you need to unleash unexpected tactics, to stray from the ordinary to achieve remarkable effect.

Murong Feiyan absolutely refused to admit that Hu Xiaotian's poem was good; she even thought it wasn't poetry at all, yet she couldn't help being amused by his poem—truly she couldn't hold back; having agreed beforehand, she lost completely, and even if she disagreed in her heart, she had to concede verbally.

After dinner, everyone rested early; if all went well, they could leave the Pengyin Mountain range tomorrow and return to the flat road, their journey nearing its end and proceeding more smoothly.

Liang Da Zhuang took the first night watch, while Murong Feiyan went to patrol the surroundings.

Hu Xiaotian and the little girl sat opposite each other across the campfire; Hu Xiaotian's gaze rested on the girl, while hers was on the fire. Neither spoke, only hearing the crackling of branches burning in the flames.

The little girl seemed a bit weary, she yawned, leaned against the rock and closed her eyes. Feeling Hu Xiaotian's gaze still on her, she finally couldn't help opening her eyes, glaring at him angrily: "Are you blaming the death of your subordinate on me?"

Hu Xiaotian stared at her indifferently, neither affirming nor denying.

The little girl snapped, "Yes, I have indeed burdened you, but I will compensate you—including your subordinate; I will surely make amends so he dies a proper death." Though she was cold‑tempered, she was still young and couldn't keep her composure.

Hu Xiaotian asked, "In your heart, do you think your life is far more noble than mine and theirs?"

The little girl stared blankly; her expression already revealed her thoughts. Hu Xiaotian said, "You don't understand—actually everyone is born equal, no one is inherently more noble, no one destined to be lowly all their life; it's just that some are fortunate, happening to be born into wealthy aristocratic families." This plain truth was once universally accepted, but now to many it seems unimaginable, even shocking. Hu Xiaotian wasn't deliberately preaching lofty ideals; he spoke from feeling moved by the scene, feeling deep regret over Shao Yijiao's death. Had he not chanced upon this little girl, had they not acted out of kindness, they would have proceeded smoothly to Qingyun Xian to take office, instead of accompanying her into danger.

The little girl didn't rebut, merely pressing her lips together; though she said nothing, inside she utterly rejected Hu Xiaotian's words. In her view, people are born with distinctions of rank and worth; a commoner's life could never compare to hers. She felt grateful to Shao Yijiao and indeed felt a little guilt, but she did not think his death because of her was a meaningless sacrifice; on the contrary, she believed such sacrifice was worthwhile.

Hu Xiaotian said, "Do you know why I initially refused you?" He lifted his head, gazing at the stars: "Not because I fear death, but because I don't want to endanger my friends and subordinates for the sake of two unrelated people. I know your status is extraordinary, but what does that have to do with me? To save your life, sacrificing many." He slowly shook his head: "Not worth it!"

The little girl bit her lip hard; her eyes no longer held anger, her expression showed resentment and sorrow.

Hu Xiaotian said, "Whether you admit it or not, he died for you; you at least owe him basic respect, you at least must remember his name!" Having spoken, he rose and walked away to a spot far from the girl, wrapped himself in a blanket, and seemed to drift into sleep.

The little girl stared at Hu Xiaotian, still biting her lip; his words had clearly wounded her pride. She stood up and walked off in the opposite direction, hurrying as if trying to put distance between herself and Hu Xiaotian and the fire. As the boulder's shadow fell over her petite frame, she appeared ever more frail and helpless, yet her gaze remained steadfast as before. At all times she never forgot to clutch her blue‑printed cloth bundle.

Welcome all readers to enjoy the latest, fastest, hottest serial works, exclusively on Original!