Chapter 13
Chapter 13
In autumn, the river swelled with the flood, growing more turbulent. When they set off from Mengcheng, the river was calm, but after passing Qufu Mountain, the large boat bobbed up and down in the rushing waters, making people feel uneasy.
At this moment, Chen Shu finally understood how the boatman had the audacity to face off with the boat’s passengers—if they had been in a smaller boat, it wouldn’t have been sturdy enough. If they encountered waves, not only would it be difficult to keep steady, but if they were lucky enough not to capsize, the force of the water would still crush their little boats against the rocks.
Still, it seemed okay. Chen Shu had her methods of combat different from ordinary people, and with He Yu there, who could swim, the three of them could certainly say they weren’t afraid of the Yushui River. But Chen Shu had never left Tian Yu Mountain since she could remember, and though she could swim and even dive, she had never been on a boat like this.
She was accustomed to soaring through the air and riding the wind; in her world, nothing was faster than her sword or her horse, and it was this stable boat that taught her how tough things could be.
Who could have thought that seasickness was something that even her skills couldn’t save her from?
The next day, Chen Shu felt more claustrophobic and nauseous, stuck in the cabin all day and night, whining to Yun Shen and He Yu about whether they could swim directly to Diancang Pass.
He Yu thought she was just being silly and started teasing her like a child, saying something about how he would accompany her to travel across the beautiful lands once she felt better—she could swim wherever she wanted, even in the Jade Pool of the Queen Mother!
Chen Shu, feeling sick and annoyed, wanted to retort, but she had genuinely not been sick for a long time, and this feeling of irritation was quite unfamiliar to her.
For a moment, she felt transported back to when she was very young, to those scorching summer days on Tian Yu Mountain. The mountain wind howled outside her window, and the dampness of overnight rain hung on the windowsill. Her master sat by her bedside, dismissively but gently reading her ancient and difficult bedtime stories.
It was indeed a long time ago when she first learned the meaning of “abandoned child.” She ran far away, deep into the mountains, and when she grew tired, she quietly wiped her tears while hugging a big rock.
It was her senior sister who brought her back, slowly making her way through the dense forest, crossing the valley. It was also her senior sister who whispered in her ear, saying that Shu Shu was light rain, timely rain, the most precious droplet that fell through the monotonous and tough practice on Tian Yu Mountain day and night.
When Chen Shu woke up again, He Yu had already left. The sound of the river slapped against the side of the boat while moonlight poured in through the window, illuminating the dim cabin where only a small candle flickered beside the bed.
The person sitting next to her bed was none other than Yun Shen. She stared at him for a while, and it wasn’t until he shot her a glance that she snapped back to reality, as if waking from a dream.
Once she regained her composure, she felt even more wronged and said, “Why are you glaring at me? I’m still sick!”
“I see you looking strong and lively. You don’t seem sick at all,” Yun Shen replied leisurely, adding, “And you have enough energy to argue with me?”
“I’m just seasick; it’s not like I’m seriously ill,” Chen Shu said as she sat up on her bed, opened the window, and looked at the bright moon in the sky before turning back to ask, “How is it already night?”
“What do you think?” Yun Shen laughed and responded, “You’ve been sleeping all afternoon, and you’ve even made Brother He a bit dozy. If I hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve gone to find the boatman to get a doctor for you.”
“…Why did you stop him?” Chen Shu asked, resting her head on her knees.
The night was deep, perhaps because of this, or perhaps because she had slept all day, her voice became less distinct amidst the continuous sound of water. Instead, it resembled the night breeze over the river, now swift, now gentle, stirring the surface into layers of ripples.
“Young lady, have you forgotten what you yourself said?” Yun Shen said, his voice steady.
“You’re the valiant hero who could lift a massive cauldron, who promised to protect me. You came down the mountain just to find your sword; no hardship is too great for you on this journey.”
Chen Shu was stumped by his words. She drew a sharp breath and declared, “You’re right!”
“…You’re not sniffling and crying, are you?” Yun Shen asked softly.
“You’re the one sniffling and crying!” Chen Shu retorted loudly.
——
Chen Shu remained unconscious for an entire day. But because of this, and the river’s treacherous rapids, the journey that should have taken five or six days was completed in just three days and four nights. On the dawn of the fifth day, the great ship steadily sailed into the docks of Diancang Pass.
The morning sun had yet to rise when the shouts of dockworkers ashore jolted people awake from their dreams.
Along the journey, aside from the three or five minor incidents caused by Chen Shu, the disciples of Biyang Valley on board indeed never provoked again. Occasionally encountering them on the deck, they would merely wear haughty expressions and pay little mind—at least, they didn’t pick fights as openly as during their first meeting.
As for that swordsman named Li Chou, his behavior was even more exaggerated. He hardly left his cabin, sequestered in his room far more contentedly than even the bedridden Chen Shu. Throughout the entire voyage, only when entering the pass and disembarking did he make this one appearance. His face was pale as if painted with powder, clearly having suffered some hardship aboard the ship.
When disembarking, the Biyang Valley disciples lost none of their arrogance. Several once again blocked the way, forcing all passengers to wait at the ship’s bow as the immensely self-important Li Chou languidly came ashore.
Other passengers, knowing these were Biyang Valley disciples and somewhat aware of martial world etiquette, mostly swallowed their anger without protest. Chen Shu, while pulled back by Yun Shen, wasn’t jostling forward. But though Yun Shen kept her from pushing, he didn’t stop her mouth. Thus, her boisterous voice cut sharply through the murmurs of conversation:
“Look at him! Who knows if his swordsmanship is even decent? His entourage rivals the heavens in grandeur…”
Unfortunately, Li Chou emerged just then amidst his retinue, and whether he heard or not, he frowned, turning his gaze their way.
Chen Shu instinctively glared back, quickly catching herself and forcing her indignant expression into a stiff smile.
“He probably didn’t hear me,” she smiled, half-hiding behind He Yu and whispering conspiratorially to Yun Shen.
“Finally learned to lower your voice?” Yun Shen countered, leisurely releasing her hand and giving her shoulder a light pat.
Chen Shu twisted around furiously, ready to resume their squabbling, when an all too familiar-yet-strange voice sounded beside her:
“Young lady.”
Familiar because she had indeed heard it a few days prior; strange because Li Chou standing before her, likely truly seasick for days, now spoke with a slightly raspy voice.
“You… want to match blades with me?” Chen Shu turned hastily, steeling herself. “I get it. I called your swordsmanship mediocre, and you resent it. You insist on a duel with me—I’m actually fine with that.”
Li Chou, however, did not answer. He eyed He Yu first, whose silence under the pressure forced him to step back, leaving Chen Shu exposed. Only then did Li Chou shift his cold, falcon-sharp stare to Chen Shu.
“You mistake my intent, little girl,” Li Chou stared down at her and said, “He Yu said you two aren’t from Cold Pine Glen. Since that’s the case, I won’t trouble you. Besides, picking on a brazen little brat like you? Deigning to force you into a duel? I have no such intention.”
His words, convoluted yet seemingly polite, carried an undercurrent of contempt that sailed clear over Chen Shu’s head. As she began to declare she’d happily exchange swordplay, Yun Shen cut her off.
“If you truly bear us no ill will,” Yun Shen said coldly, “then I presume to ask—for what purpose have you delivered us this lecture?”
Li Chou focused his gaze on Yun Shen, broke into a smile, and said with biting clarity: “Not only will I bear you no ill will, I must also thank you on behalf of my foolish junior! If not for this young lady’s timely rescue, his corpse might not have been found. Not just him—every soul aboard this ship owes you their gratitude. For my earlier offense, I apologize this day. Henceforth, should you require my aid, bearing this token come to me. Anything within the reach of Biyang Valley—be it hired killing or grand larceny—is at your service.” So saying, he drew from his sleeve a jade pendant as if in readiness.
The jade was crimson through and through, a captivating bloody hue holding within it the faintest streaks of teal. Even one as unworldly as Chen Shu could see it was priceless, no ordinary artifact.
Yun Shen made no move to take it. Li Chou lowered his eyes, then tilted his chin at Chen Shu. Bewildered, she obediently lifted her hand and accepted the jade. She and Yun Shen exchanged a long, silent look. Finally, she voiced her uncertainty: “…I don’t quite grasp it. Are you still seeking a match in swordsmanship with me?”
At these words, the smug expression on Li Chou’s face vanished. The corner of his mouth twitched subtly as he struggled—for a noticeable moment—to suppress a laugh, settling for a disdainful snort. “If you truly wish to face me, come to Diancang Pass for the Sword Discussion Tournament. Merely survive the opening round, and you’ll have your chance.”
“Done!” Chen Shu paused, then added firmly: “I’ll offer you a few pointers then—make sure you don’t get eliminated early!”
Li Chou seemed finally unable to contain himself. He burst into loud laughter, shook his head, uttered only a decisive “Deal!”, and walked down the gangplank.
The commotion grew so loud that even the passengers behind Chen Shu began whispering among themselves, though no one knew what troubles they were stirring up randomly.
Before departing, those Biyang Valley disciples trailing Li Chou never failed to cast glances of mockery or pity at Chen Shu.
He Yu gave the passengers a worried look and earnestly said to Chen Shu, “You shouldn’t have taken this jade.”
“I thought so too,” Chen Shu declared, lifting the jade and examining it left and right. “But I wouldn’t go find that hot-tempered fellow to kill anyone for treasures, and I have my own sword pendant—what use do I have for this?”
“Even so,” Yun Shen, who had been silent until now, spoke up, “this jade, though gifted by Biyang Valley, is still a rare and valuable piece. If Miss finds it unappealing and doesn’t wish to use it as a pendant or sword tassel, why not exchange it for silver to redeem your own jade? That could be a good solution, couldn’t it?”
He hadn’t yet finished speaking when Chen Shu looked up at him, staring intently as if she had an insight, and waited for him to pause before speaking again.
“What are you staring at me for?”
“I see you quite like it,” Chen Shu said proudly, tossing the blood-red jade into Yun Shen’s lap. “Might as well give it to you!”