Chapter 40: All Were Killed by Me

Li Guanyi calmed his breath, adjusted himself, then forced his body to the stream, where he squatted and saw his reflection in the moonlit water—his face slightly pale, his eyes darker than ever, the Bai Hu manifestation resting on his shoulder, playing with his hair.

Bai Hu's claws hooked into a strand of hair, refusing to let go, the claws wriggling desperately.

Yet to the naked eye, it looked like a breeze brushing the tips of the boy's hair.

Li Guanyi laughed.

He sat back on a stone by the stream, drew out the Black Weight, its blade marked with nicks and streaked with blood; from a pouch on his belt he pulled a cloth and, under the moonlight, wiped the blood clean to prevent rust and stench.

Then he used a small whetstone to polish away the minor dents, keeping the blade sharp.

Finally, he oiled the blade thoroughly.

Throughout this process, his mind gradually quieted; when the blade slid back into its sheath, it emitted a delicate sound that gave Li Guanyi a sense of peace.

In times of chaos, a sword and knife bring peace.

He searched the bodies of the others he'd killed, finding a pile of identity wooden plaques—all newly enlisted border soldiers.

He took also a dozen or so taels of silver and a bundle of letters.

The inner energy of the Break Formation Melody had already restored; the aching from his first solo battle, triggered by instinctive overexertion, vanished swiftly. Li Guanyi gathered the vegetables and placed them in the basket left by the old man—a sturdy weave of bamboo and coarse hemp rope.

Thirty or fifty jin of vegetables remained edible, none spoiled.

Indeed, all were fine vegetables, clearly tended with care.

Li Guanyi braced his arms and lifted the basket, took two steps, then suddenly remembered something, turned back, and saw the copper coin he'd tossed up—now showing its reverse.

On it were four characters inscribed by the current Chen Emperor.

The script was elegant and rich.

It read: "Taiping Tongbao."

The boy grinned, flipped the coin to show the obverse, and said approvingly: "Of course it's obverse!"

He picked it up, wiped off the dirt, and tucked it into his chest.

He'd planned to return, but then remembered Yao Guang of the Eastern Land School of Stellar Observation; since there were now villains like Qian Zheng, the area outside the city was far from safe, and Yao Guang had cared for him during his poison crisis—after thinking it over, the boy decided to return and give a warning.

His inner energy channeled into his arms was inferior to the Xue family's ancestral technique for strengthening the limbs.

But the Break Formation Melody excelled in comprehensiveness; Li Guanyi's arm strength was no weak, his stance firm—firmer even than the Xue family's.

He hurried back; the campfire's glow faintly lit the stone wall, flickering softly.

Li Guanyi slowed his steps; Yao Guang, under her hood, seemed to sense him, turned her head, and spoke with calm, rippleless tone: "You've returned."

Li Guanyi said: "There are fugitives out there. Your location may not be safe."

Yao Guang's voice remained calm: "Rest assured, disciples of the Eastern Land School of Stellar Observation are not helpless. I am not like you—a hero who charges into battle—but I can protect myself. Thank you for your concern."

Li Guanyi nodded, turned sharply, and left.

As he prepared to depart, he noticed a roasted bun skewered on a stick.

Yao Guang, hooded, sat quietly reading; the bun bore fine tooth marks, clearly bitten into with force—it had cracked open, its surface dried and hardened. Li Guanyi paused, turned back, and asked: "You eat only this?"

Yao Guang looked at him: "A little rice flour, a little clear water—enough."

Li Guanyi grinned, pointed at the vegetables, and said:

"I can't carry these. I'll leave them here."

"You'll…"

He saw the hardened bun, and swallowed the words "can you cook?"

He asked: "Do you have a pot?"

Yao Guang slowly nodded, rose, and knelt before a large backpack.

She rummaged.

Clatter. Clatter.

She lifted her head, turned, and held up a small iron pot in her Bai Xi hand, raising it, then rotating her wrist to display the tiny pot.

Then she answered:

"Yes."

Li Guanyi fashioned a wooden frame, set the pot atop it, filled it with clean water, used Yao Guang's dagger to chop the washed vegetables into small cubes, dropped them in to simmer, and broke the hardened bun into thumb-sized pieces, adding them to the pot.

He sprinkled in a pinch of salt.

"That's all. No meat, no oil. Make do."

Li Guanyi sat beside the iron pot, watching the food bubble inside.

Yao Guang's eyes gazed through the steam rising from the pot at Li Guanyi, her voice calm and rippleless: "Your heart is not still. It is full of ripples. Have you faced a choice?"

Li Guanyi's motion halted.

He had just killed fifteen or sixteen people—but this was not his first killing.

Previously, when he killed the two night-riding cavalrymen, General Yue Qianfeng handled the aftermath.

Now, he felt irritation.

Li Guanyi realized—he did not fear killing. He merely despised the messy aftermath it forced him to manage. He knew himself: he refused to bear the responsibility of killing, even if the victims were fugitives; yet he understood the Chen state well—after such killings, complications would never be few.

The border recruits and their sergeant turned bandits must have had reasons; the connections involved could be deep.

It was not as simple as turning in identity plaques for a reward.

The wind carried the scent of leaves.

Yao Guang rose, knelt beside Li Guanyi, and extended her palm, her voice calm: "Please give me your hand."

"Is this some ritual?"

Li Guanyi laughed.

But after thinking, he still offered his palm; her Bai Xi, delicate hand cradled his, and Yao Guang lowered her gaze: "No. It is merely that people on this land fear solitude. I believe companionship will quiet your heart."

Yao Guang closed her eyes, clasped Li Guanyi's hand, bowed her head, and recited the maxims of the Eastern Land School of Stellar Observation; her silver hair fell, her expression serene, like a quiet stream flowing beneath the moonlight.

Li Guanyi's heart realm did indeed calm down. The things that had been troubling him before gradually surfaced, and he made his choice.

Yaoguang opened her eyes and released the young man's hand: "You carry the scent of killing on you, yet there is no scent of resentment, no doubt about your own path. This means you have not slaughtered the innocent, and the choice you made did not betray your heart. So please, do not doubt yourself, do not be afraid."

Yaoguang's hand let go, her hazel eyes looking at the young man before her.

"No matter what path you choose, as long as you do not become a tyrant who throws the world into chaos."

"I will stay by your side."

Li Guanyi could not help but laugh: "Even if I am a fugitive who has committed grave crimes."

Yaoguang's right hand held her own left wrist, placed before her, and after thinking carefully, she simply answered quietly: "Then, do you need an accomplice who can show you the way?"

"I am willing to accompany you, through the grandest flight this mortal world has ever seen."

"This is the Covenant of Fate."

Li Guanyi could not respond.

His gaze turned toward the stream. After his battle with Qian Zheng, he finally understood the fight with that Tiele Third Prince. Now he was confident he could defeat the Tiele Third Prince with his blade technique—though it had taken dying in battle dozens of times to find a way to defeat him, which was nothing worth bragging about.

After killing today, his strength was already spent; he would come back after recovering.

Li Guanyi suddenly shouted, venting all the restlessness in his heart.

Yaoguang watched him quietly.

Li Guanyi stretched out his hand and patted his own cheeks, then rose and said: "Thank you. I've figured some things out."

"After tomorrow, I will come again."

"I'll take my leave today."

Li Guanyi strode out quickly. Yaoguang quietly sat back by the bonfire, looked over the simple meal, and with simple utensils tasted it in silence.

Li Guanyi returned to the city alone. At the gate, there were already many people from the surrounding villages and towns lined up in a long queue, waiting for the city gates to open so they could enter. Li Guanyi ran into some difficulties—the gate guards sometimes took a few things, mistaking him for a vegetable farmer as well.

When they saw the blade and bow at Li Guanyi's waist, they started in fright and dared not say more.

Li Guanyi looked at the bustling Guanyi City. The sky was the belly-white of dawn; along the main road the shops had already opened. In a great iron pot, steaming hot soup was simmering; freshly baked flatbreads gave off the fragrance of wheat; the balconies with red lanterns hung at the windows had gaudy decorations, their doors thrown open, and bewitchingly dressed women helped a scholar up onto his horse.

A wafting fragrance.

The scholar wore a flower pinned at his temple, rode drunk, and ambled slowly through the cooking smoke of the food stalls.

Passing a corner eatery, he flicked out a single 【Great Peace Treasure Coin】 with a bent finger, let it drop onto the table, and ordered a bowl of sour, sobering soup.

His bent fingers tapped a quick rhythm, the qin's notes accompanied by strings and bamboo flutes.

He sang—

What a Great Peace! Li Guanyi looked at this peaceful scene that had always set his heart at ease in the past, yet he thought of that old man's wailing, thought of the vegetable farmers lined up in a long queue at the city gate, thought of the matter of the slave traders buying and selling people that Zhao Da Bing had spoken of. The whole of Chen Country and the world beneath it peeled back a corner before his eyes; prosperity and absurdity were like rivers flowing into one another.

So it turned out that, for some people, a chaotic age was not chaotic—it was a Great Peace.

In chaotic times, those who suffered were the common folk.

The young man pressed his hand against the back of his blade and his bow, his lapel stained with blood.

The scholar wore a flower pinned at his temple, rode his horse backward, the scent of rouge and powder on his body.

They passed one another.

The scholar did not know why, but started in fright and was already sober. He looked around left and right, but found nothing.

And Li Guanyi first went home to report his safety to his aunt.

Then he chose to go to the Xue family.

He had killed fifteen or sixteen people. Among them were wanted criminals, but the matter was not so simple. Chen Country's bureaucracy was a tangled mess; it was entirely possible that he would not get the bounty money and would only get himself into trouble. The one person Li Guanyi knew who could handle this matter most properly—there was only one.

He was a guest retainer, so he entered the inner courtyard, thought for a moment, and headed for the Listening Wind Pavilion.

The old man, who had been kept awake by the Cloud-Piercing Heaven-Shaking Bow, was drinking yellow millet porridge. He could not figure it out.

Last night, in the hour of the Ox, why had the Cloud-Piercing Heaven-Shaking Bow trembled again?

Li Guanyi hadn't even touched it. Could it be that the one who stirred the bow was not him?

The old man had been startled awake by the bow's cry in the middle of the night, turned it over in his mind, and being old and short on sleep, had already gone the whole night without sleeping.

While he was thinking, he heard that Li Guanyi had come, so he had someone add another bowl, with more rice and more ginseng. A young fellow at the age of biggest appetite—the Xue family was not afraid of being eaten into poverty—and then had him brought in.

Li Guanyi entered the door, his sleeves flaring.

Xue Daoyong's brows rose slightly.

The scent of blood.

Li Guanyi sat quietly at the table, took off his war bow, and said: "I killed people."

The old man's brow furrowed slightly, then thought that if he had killed innocents, he would not have come back to find him.

He did not ask anything else, and simply asked:

"Who?"

Li Guanyi placed the waist token on the table.

"Border rebel squad leader, Qian Zheng."

The old man looked at that token of a Border-Entering martial artist, his pupils contracting slightly.

That was an elite border force against the State of Ying. A squad leader was a martial artist who had survived at least three great battles and reached the Border-Entering realm, had seen blood, and had at least seven heads to his name in the military tents. Still, with the Xue family's divine bow, keeping his distance, though thorny and dangerous, such an opponent could be dealt with.

One-on-one, crossing realms—even with the advantage of a superior weapon, that could still be called both clever and brave.

The old man nodded and praised: "Not bad at all…"

Then he saw the young man reach into his robe and pull out a handful of wooden tokens, soaked in blood and blackened. He let go, and this handful of wooden tokens fell onto the table—all of them military tokens of border troops. The expression on the old man's face froze little by little. The young man's sleeves were not stained with blood; only a single spot of blood on his lapel.

He took off his war blade, set it aside, and said quietly: "Along with his bandit band, sixteen in all."

"All cut down by my own hand."

(End of this chapter)