Chapter 121

When Li Zhao Wen heard the name Li Guanyi, he first paused slightly, momentarily stalling, then looked at the young boy with a sword at his waist, reaching out to pluck lotus seeds, recalling their two meetings—both literary and martial, free and unrestrained.

Li Zhao Wen suddenly burst into loud laughter, laughing so hard she sat there, seemingly even more delighted than when Li Guanyi had just said the wine was paid for, extending her jade-like hand to point at Li Guanyi repeatedly, saying: "Hahaha, Li Guanyi, Li Guanyi!"

How delightful.

The young boy, slightly drunk, lifted the wine jar and said: "Li Zhao Wen, what are you laughing at?!"

Li Zhao Wen said: "What a fine name!"

She immediately realized she had never mentioned the name of the Second Young Master of the Ying State Duke's household in her letters; Changsun Wuchou was her subordinate and would never speak outside the household of his master's true name—this slightly drunk young boy must be just like her before.

He knew only the Second Young Master, not Li Zhao Wen.

Li Zhao Wen unfurled her folding fan to conceal a faint, unrestrained smile at her lips.

She smiled inwardly, thinking.

This time I've startled you; someday I'll give you an even bigger shock—only then will it be truly reciprocal, truly fair.

She was naturally proud, and young, like a sharp blade, utterly unwilling to suffer any loss.

So she said: "Amidst heaven and earth, myriad phenomena, I behold only one."

"Your name, Young Master Li, carries a profound Daoist resonance."

Li Guanyi laughed and said: "Yours is no less impressive—Zhao means blazing like the great sun; Wen means to order heaven and earth. Your name carries true grandeur."

Li Zhao Wen replied carefree: "It's just a name, bestowed by my elders."

"I never expected that when I saw you in the temple that day, dressed plainly with no jade pendants, I thought you were of humble origin—but now I see you, clad in crimson robes with a white jade belt, standing among the military nobility of Jingcheng—I was blind to Taishan that day."

Li Guanyi took a sip of wine and said: "You weren't wrong."

"This robe is merely an imperial gift from Your Majesty."

"But you, Young Master, possess extraordinary spirit—you could truly be called a hero."

Li Zhao Wen paused slightly, puzzled.

But Li Guanyi was not lying.

Li Zhao Wen usually hunted outside, riding freely, and everyone knew her identity, treating her with great respect, praising her talent and Wu Gong—but now this young boy, unaware she was the Second Young Master of the Ying State Duke's household, called her a hero. Li Zhao Wen's mood brightened.

Li Guanyi looked at the young boy before him.

Just as the first time they met, when the blue phoenix led the way and he encountered Li Zhao Wen.

Now they sat at one end of the black-canopied boat, while at the stern, the blue phoenix and crimson phoenix danced in flight.

Excluding his own exceptional case.

To possess a Dharma Form at such a young age—surely what Xue Lao meant by innate Dharma Form.

A rare manifestation, once in a hundred years—combined with such bearing and talent, if he's not a future hero, how many in the world can truly be called paragons? Li Zhao Wen smiled and said: "I am but a humble merchant's son, unworthy of the title paragon."

Li Guanyi laughed: "Heroes are not determined by bloodline."

He raised his sword toward the sky and said: "Are kings and generals born of noble stock?!"

Li Zhao Wen's eyes shimmered with admiration: "What spirit!"

Then she teased him: "But with such spirit and such Wu Gong, you seem the type who'll end up in prison someday." Li Guanyi laughed heartily, and Li Zhao Wen smiled: "Still, your words just now made me feel truly delighted."

Li Guanyi asked why.

Li Zhao Wen pointed at him with a radiant brow and calm grace: "When someone I deem a young hero calls me a hero and talented, isn't that double delight?"

Li Guanyi fell silent, smiling.

The young boy before him radiated heroic spirit, his brows lifted, his speech sincere yet deeply comforting.

Li Zhao Wen smiled faintly.

She rarely met peers who cared nothing for her lineage yet respected her skill, and even rarer was someone who praised her personal courage and talent without flattery of her father or brother—her mood was light. Seeing Li Guanyi pluck lotus seeds, she, raised in the Gansu frontier, unfamiliar with southern delicacies, asked:

"Are the lotus seeds ripe yet?"

Li Guanyi reached out, plucked one, and tossed it to Li Zhao Wen.

"Normally, they're ready in midsummer—but these past two years, the sun has been strong, so some ripen early. With experience, you can pick the ripe ones—don't eat the lotus heart, it's terribly bitter."

"But you can brew it into tea—extremely bitter, excellent for clearing heat."

Li Zhao Wen ate one—it was indeed tender and fresh; neither the lotus seeds she'd cultivated herself by digging lakes in Gansu nor those rushed by horseback compared to this freshly picked one. She pondered: "Has this only recently become so?"

Li Guanyi said: "I heard they've only recently begun ripening early."

Li Zhao Wen said: "No wonder."

She tossed the lotus seed into her mouth, eating it as she casually said:

"I heard the Grand Historian of Ying State submitted a memorial stating: 'The daylight is gradually lengthening.'"

"In the first year of the New Calendar, the winter solstice shadow measured one zhang two chi seven cun two fen; since then, it has gradually shortened, and by the seventeenth year, it was three chi seven fen shorter than before. When the sun draws near the pole, the shadow shortens and the day lengthens; when it moves far from the pole, the shadow lengthens and the day shortens. Traveling the inner path brings it near the pole; the outer path takes it far."

"The daylight growing longer is an auspicious omen—more sunlight."

"According to celestial patterns, the Chen Kingdom's 'Yuan Ming Bao' records: 'When the sun and moon travel the inner path, the celestial mechanism remains constant.' The Central State's Imperial Astronomical Bureau's 'Jing Fang Bie Dui' says: 'In peace, the sun travels the upper path; in prosperity, the middle path; in an age of hegemony, the lower path.'"

"All nations' Imperial Astronomical Bureaus declare it a great omen, saying the world will soon be pacified."

"They say: 'By divine mandate, the heavens respond—the shadow shortens, the day lengthens, unprecedented since ancient times.' It seems these astrologers' words can truly touch the lives of common folk—not mere empty theories."

Li Guanyi fell into thought, deciding to eat a lotus seed. The young boy before him spoke with calm ease, shifting from lotus seeds to celestial names, star patterns, and the courts of all nations—compared to him, Li Guanyi felt himself truly a mere warrior.

Li Zhao Wen asked as was her habit: "What do you think, Elder Brother?"

Li Guanyi grinned. He wanted to say, let's go back to the bridge and get more lotus heads—but after thinking, he answered: "It's merely a celestial omen. Every state wants to claim this mandate for itself, seize moral authority, and rally the people."

"The highest form of warfare is to outwit."

"A firm and exalted army spirit is more precious than gold or jade."

Li Zhao Wen was astonished, then delighted, saying:

"Those who gave me life—my parents; those who understand my heart—only you!"

The bright moon hung in the sky, starlight reflected on the water.

On the black-canopied boat, the boy plucked a lotus pod, and Li Guanyi asked how it tasted.

Li Zhaowen praised: "Delicious—though what a pity."

"If only I could eat fresh lotus pods every summer, how fine that would be."

How wonderful if I could come here whenever I wished.

Her eyes gazed at the starry river, and she imagined one day riding the fierce horses of Longxi, walking across Jiangnan's blue stone pavements, seeing that boy leaning against the prow, eating lotus seeds and drinking wine—so free, so unrestrained. She smiled, recalling how skilled that boy's Wu Gong was.

She smiled faintly and said: "Brother, let me have a sip of your wine."

Li Zhaowen stepped forward, one hand lightly brushing Li Guanyi's waist acupoint, the other holding a folded fan like a short weapon, striking straight for Li Guanyi's wrist. The black-canopied boat sank slightly, stirring ripples. Li Guanyi flipped away—he had been beaten by Xue Shen too many times, and had fought countless battles.

He ignored the acupoint on his waist.

He merely swirled the wine jar, pushing aside Li Zhaowen's fan and palm.

The girl swept her hand through Jiangnan's acupoint technique across Li Guanyi's waist, yet felt her fingers rise as if brushing steel—this qi could not pierce his body, let alone sever his meridians. She was startled, but the next instant, she unfurled her fan and swept it outward.

Relying on her higher realm and a mysterious short-weapon technique, Li Guanyi tilted his head back to evade the strike. The fan swept past his neck, then Li Zhaowen seized the wine jar, shifted her step lightly, and drew distance.

Li Guanyi stabilized his stance and watched the young master in brocade robes smile faintly:

"Brother, isn't it a shame to drink alone?"

"Let's drink together."

She released her grip, tossed the wine jar upward, then—not like General Yue Qianfeng's boisterous gulping—lifted her brows, tipped Li Guanyi's jar, and poured the wine straight down her throat. The liquid traced an arc through the air into her mouth; her brows rose, her spirit soaring.

Li Zhaowen's face was pale as jade, her phoenix eyes bright with radiance.

Li Guanyi laughed loudly and moved to seize the wine.

Li Zhaowen raised her hand to block, her movement fluid as she stepped back.

The moon filled the long river; painted pleasure boats crowded the water. The two youths fighting over wine on the black-canopied boat drew attention—people on the pleasure boats leaned on railings, laughing as they watched their sparring.

One had solid foundational cultivation, golden skin and jade bones; the other was born with a divine manifestation, third-floor realm.

Neither used qi projection or lethal techniques—only pure technique exchange.

They fought over the jar of fine wine; Li Zhaowen drank the last drops, her face flushed with drunkenness.

This wine is truly excellent!

Wu Chou has excellent taste—far better than the Duke's cellar wines. Li Zhaowen glanced around and laughed: "Brother, we must go. If we keep this up, we'll draw too much attention."

She rose suddenly, steps light, stepping lightly upon the water's surface, which rippled beneath her.

Her body rose as if riding the wind, free and unbound.

Li Guanyi leapt up, kicked the black-canopied boat gently, sending it drifting back to its original spot, then stepped onto the nearby piling and tied the boat securely, lest it drift away.

Only then did he leap upward—his movement was purely military, lacking the ability to walk on water, so he landed on a pleasure boat, bowing loudly in apology as he sprinted away. One stepped lightly across the green waves; the other charged like a warhorse across linked boats.

Li Zhaowen's posture was elegant and floating, yet her speed was slow.

Li Guanyi simply charged forward—his motion ordinary, yet his speed astonishing.

Li Zhaowen slowed again; both reached the opposite shore. A river flowed through Jiangzhou City, dividing the duchy into two worlds—one bustling, one quiet. Across the river, lights blazed brightly; on the other side, silence and loneliness reigned.

Li Zhaowen steadied herself when a gust of wind signaled the arrival of the boy in crimson robes.

Li Zhaowen swept her fan backward; the boy reversed his hand and seized her wrist.

They locked gazes, pushed force, then burst into laughter together.

Li Zhaowen stepped back two paces, her fan resting behind her back, brows raised in delight. She laughed: "Shangshan, your mastery of both civil and martial ways is superb. Today has been exhilarating—I've rarely felt such joy at my age."

Li Guanyi replied: "You're not bad either."

Li Zhaowen couldn't help laughing heartily.

No one in the State of Ying had ever dared speak to her this way.

Her brows lifted, her enthusiasm high—but Changfeng Lady still had duties awaiting her. She felt a pang of regret, yet even as she abandoned her identity as the Duke's Second Young Master, she remained utterly unburdened.

She reached out and gripped Li Guanyi's arm:

"Tonight's meeting has been delightful—but alas, night is falling, and we'll be late. Still, no matter."

"Someday, we shall meet again."

Li Guanyi said with ease: "Then, when that day comes, you must tell me your true origins."

Li Guanyi said: "A child of Jiangnan's Chen State wouldn't not know how to eat lotus pods."

"Good!"

Li Zhaowen's lips curled slightly; she opened her fan to conceal her smiling mouth, revealing only her bright, soaring brows, then turned and walked away, fan resting behind her back, calm and graceful.

She came with inspiration, departed when inspiration faded—her bearing was natural and noble.

Then she turned down an alley.

Li Zhaowen turned to look—no one followed. She clutched her stomach and laughed silently.

Then she held her fan, hands clasped behind her back.

Steps light, alone, she skipped forward.

Li Guanyi's intrusion had scattered the faint wine fumes. He oriented himself toward the Xue family, but as he neared the bridge, bright lanterns flanked both sides—he was stopped by a somewhat aged, wealthy merchant.

The merchant was the very first to applaud when Li Guanyi recited his verse.

Seated on a large boat, he smiled: "Young sir, crossing the river? Come aboard."

Li Guanyi considered—detouring to the bridge would take far too long—then nodded.

"Apologies for the trouble, old sir."

He pressed one hand on the stone railing, flipped up, floated down, and landed on the boat. Summer was near; lotus pods were ripe. Yet the old merchant wore a heavy cloak—clearly unwell. He ordered the boat underway, invited Li Guanyi to sit, and served him a sobering decoction.

Li Guanyi thanked him. The old man smiled: "I'm from Jiangnan too, though I've traded abroad. I returned because my younger brother's family business ran into trouble."

"Hearing your poetry reminded me of my youth."

"Back then, I was as spirited as you. I recall the lines—'The whale has not swallowed the sea, yet the sword's aura already cuts through autumn.' The meaning of that verse still lingers. Today, I'll take you across. Can you tell me the rest of the poem?"

Li Guanyi said, "This was recited to me by an old man whose spirit was like a dragon when I was traveling. If you, sir, wish to hear the second half, naturally there is no problem."

He picked up his brush and wrote down the last few lines of the second half for the old man.

The wealthy merchant was not actually that old; his brow was resolute, only his hair had turned completely white, his shoulders broad, and sitting there he was like a mountain. Seeing the words, he recited: "Who cares that the hero has grown old? The fame he sought was trifling, yet the decisions made linger on. No need to speak of this matter—another day, head propped in hand."

Li Guanyi also wrote down the second half of that stanza full of a young man's chivalrous spirit.

He said, "This was spoken by another old man."

Seeing this second half, the old wealthy merchant lowered his gaze for a long while, softly reciting the last few lines:

"Without petitioning for the long cord, I'll take the seed of the pride of heaven—my sword roars in the west wind."

"Regretting that I climbed Dengshan and gazed on the waters, my hands resting on the seven-string paulownia, watching the returning wild geese…"

As he recited these lines of poetry, he did not know whether he was thinking of someone, or of himself; his eyes reddened slightly, and he seemed a little choked up. At such an age, yet showing such temperament before Li Guanyi, a mere youth—he was a man of true feeling. The old man sighed and said:

"Forgive the display. I was only thinking of the experiences of my youth and my friends."

"When we were young, we were just like you lot, but later, always… the world grew harsh, and friends would turn against each other; and at an age like mine, old friends have already mostly withered away and left me behind."

The old man spoke no more of these matters, only saying how things used to be in Jiangnan, this way and that.

He had once fought alongside his friends; you youngsters still don't hit hard enough when you brawl.

A bench won't do—you need the kind of solid red bricks tempered in fierce fire to have any real force.

He had someone ready a boat to send Li Guanyi back. The vessel pulled in at the shore, and the old man beneath the lamplight, draped in a black cloak, watched the young man depart. Gazing at the lines of poetry, he said softly, "Those are fine lines. The first half is like them, and like us."

"The second half—that is truly us."

He fell silent for a moment, then said, "Heh… well, not quite. You will never grow old; you will stay forever in the first half, the youthful spirit soaring high."

"I am the only one who has grown old."

"Yes, we were once young, once wild and arrogant, yes…"

"But who says that when a hero grows old, he can no longer take up the long cord and seize the seed of the pride of heaven?"

The old man stood quietly there, lamplight blazing behind him, draped in his black cloak.

He turned and walked, but with one step high and one step low.

He was a—

The old cripple who had returned to Jiangnan.