Chapter 50
Chapter 50
“But my sword… it ran off taking my heart with it…”
Such an absurd and bizarre sentence, uttered by anyone else, would likely have drawn a scoff or a sharp rebuttal. But murmured by Chen Shu, with so much hurt in her voice that tears threatened to spill at any moment, it hung in the air. Her words had ended, but her voice, as clear and melodic as the person herself, still lingered between them in their shared breath, an intangible presence.
Chen Shu must have suppressed the words for a long time to finally utter them.
Even if outsiders might find this statement unreasonable, even somewhat insane, to her, it encapsulated the greatest grievance she had suffered in this half of her life.
Indeed, it was she who had awakened the sword with her heart’s blood.
And indeed, that sword she had painstakingly forged and cherished, had accidentally flown out of Tianyu Mountain right before everyone’s eyes.
Counting it all up, how was it not the sword that took her heart and ran away?
She had slipped down the mountain behind her senior brother and senior sister’s back, been harassed by passerby at the foot, joined He Yu to attend the Sword Discussion Tournament, enduring a thousand trials—all just to find this sword that occupied her mind and heart day and night.
That day, when He Yu revealed the truth, Chen Shu finally understood that her initial pursuit of the Sword Discussion Tournament had led her down the wrong path, straying into a detour.
Yet at the time, with He Yu offering guidance on one hand, and the subsequent competition demanding her attention on the other, she fought her way to the final bout.
Standing there on the Sword Discussion Platform, facing Xu Qiong in a direct exchange of blows, then came the catastrophic deluge.
Once all was settled, with abrupt leisure thrust upon her, it was only when Yun Shen posed that question that she recalled the frustration of that day anew.
Not just that day—finding the wrong person, losing the swords tassel, nearly losing the clue altogether—it was like searching for a needle in the ocean.
Yet Yun Shen spoke reason with every word, whether advising her against asking “Have you seen the sword that flew away from me?” upon meeting strangers—a phrase sure to draw odd looks—or refuting her wild, desperate notion, an idea snatched up like a lifeline without a moment’s thought.
Yes, a person using a talisman—how could that prove he ever picked up Chen Shu’s sword?
Between these two things, beyond Diancang Pass, there was not the slightest connection.
If anyone at Diancang Pass might be the one who found the sword, then Shen Jie might be, Li Chou might be, and who knows—even Yun Shen might be him.
In her bitterness, the sorrow compressed into a single phrase, she seemed to feel Yun Shen ought to grasp it unconsciously.
The person before her now, gripping her shoulders, cupping her face gently in his hands, his fingers softly tracing the corner of her eye, was the first kind soul she had met since descending the mountain.
They say that hatchlings imprint on whatever they see upon opening their eyes as parents, even the most ferocious raptors.
The root cause lies in the sheer newness of the world: everything unfamiliar, curious, undefended against.
Thus, she had confessed her origins, her purpose for descending the mountain in search of the sword, to Yun Shen, recounting everything without omission.
In her brief fortnight below the peak, she had spoken like this to Yun Shen alone—openly, directly.
Now Chen Shu widened her eyes, gazing at Yun Shen, and also at the reflection of herself within Yun Shen’s pupils, discerning hints of something amiss.
They were truly standing perilously close, and even Chen Shu felt it was improper.
Yet Yun Shen watched her as if entranced, his eyes burning, lips slightly pursed, his fingertips still absently tracing the corner of her eye.
His touch even grew firmer, the faint, prickling sting ebbing and flowing—an unfamiliar sensation that might also be a mere trick of the mind.
Not right. Yun Shen, a figure of such gentlemanly virtues, always leaving three parts unsaid in speech, five parts untried in action—how could he be so… undone on such a quiet, peaceful night?
Chen Shu leaned in a fraction further, her nose tip touching Yun Shen’s.
Then,
Like the first collapse of snow on a mountain peak,
Like spring mud falling into murky water,
Like a tiny, inconspicuous bubble surfacing just before boiling water erupts, only to burst silently at the moment of breakthrough—
Soundless and thunderous both—
She saw Yun Shen’s pupils flicker once, as he was jolted back by that contact, drawing back to stand upright.
He moved so quickly that in that instant of his withdrawal, Chen Shu spotted fine beads of sweat forming on his brow.
Even someone normally as composed as Yun Shen revealed a trace of panic before her gaze.
This is truly not right. At last, Chen Shu grasped it.
She blinked, watching as Yun Shen reassembled that polite smile others might find warm, though now she saw straight through its indifference.
She tilted her head up, her gaze still unwavering, still locking onto Yun Shen’s.
“…If we don’t take the water route, Yingqiu City and Mijiang Slope aren’t on the way,” Yun Shen finally uttered the line.
“I thought you weren’t going to bring that up today!” Chen Shu started, then laughed.
The gloom hadn’t fully lifted from her face, yet the smile arrived first at the corners of her eyes.
“…You were indeed waiting for me to say it,” Yun Shen also laughed, a genuine warmth in his voice this time. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and retreated another half-step, turning slightly to observe the lone moon hanging in the night sky.
“It was an obsession of mine, clinging to that momentary concern. As fellow travelers, what we shared was the path, not the person. When our paths diverge, parting is inevitable. Sorrow is futile; persuasion is fruitless. Each has their own destiny. Cannot force it. Only mortals are mired in such feelings over separation. Throughout thousands of years, has anyone ever asked why winter and summer never meet? Why the sun and the moon never embrace?”
“You are wrong there,” Chen Shu lifted her chin slightly, her expression serious.
“One must speak their mind. That’s also what my senior sister taught me—that consistency in words is the true path to enlightenment. Besides, you’re not the sun or moon up in the sky! How can you know whether the daily rise in the east and set in the west aren’t the sun and moon desperately chasing each other, forcing day and night into being?”
Yun Shen turned his head back to look at her, seemingly entirely unprepared for this response. He paused a moment before speaking.
“…Such pursuit, even over thousands of years, tens of thousands of years—it remains unattainable.”
“Perhaps after pursuing for another thousand years, another ten thousand years, they could succeed,” Chen Shu countered.
——
Within the pass, the floods had only lately subsided, yet the deep night slept in profound silence.
Snoring sounds and hushed whispers surfaced occasionally, but being jumbled and indistinct, they blended into an unclear murmur.
Inside the room separated from them by a single wall, refugees without homes crowded the space.
Chen Shu leaped onto the wall’s top, clinging to the window ledge to peer inside.
Alarmed, she clicked her tongue, nimbly jumped back down, and mouthed ‘so many people’ silently to Yun Shen.
“I told you earlier,” Yun Shen said, scanning the surroundings. He tugged off his tattered, threadbare robe and handed it over.
“Cover yourself with this and try to nap for a spell.”
Naturally, Chen Shu protested persistently.
She finally accepted half, forcibly draping the remainder back onto Yun Shen.
They found a relatively clean stone step against the base of the wall, seeking a spot shielded from the moonlight.
The latter half of the night blurred into uneasy sleep.
Yun Shen woke early, or perhaps hadn’t slept all night, held in place by her arms.
As for Chen Shu, whether it was the multitude of events packed into the day, sleeping at the alley’s end where murmurs from behind the wall persisted, or the sky barely lightening—the sun itself yet to rise—the daylight seemed retaliatory, striking Chen Shu’s face.
Accompanied by a few bird calls, it prompted her to burrow irritably deeper into Yun Shen’s embrace.
She mumbled indistinctly into his chest, a string of incoherent fragments escaping her lips.
Her rest remained troubled, fraught with fragmented dreams all night.
One moment, it was the mountain Tianyu, with its birdsong and fragrance, crisp and carefree.
The next, it was Diancang Pass, submerged in the catastrophic deluge, a landscape of utter devastation.
On the cusp of dawn, the yamen runners and soldiers arrived with cauldrons of steaming congee to prepare for the tasks of the new day.
People stirred early along the wall, passing by this little alley.
Footsteps drew near then faded away again.
Chen Shu, however, sank deeper and deeper into sleep, clutching Yun Shen’s neck fiercely, unwilling to let go.
From her lips, faint, incoherent murmurs occasionally escaped.
Finally, a pair of feet that made dull thuds when walking came to a stop before them.
He Yu squatted down, stroking the soft hairs on her head that had been tousled by sleep and stuck up like ruffled down. “Did you stay up late last night?” he asked.
“She must be tired,” Yun Shen said. “Flood control yesterday was exhausting… took a lot of cultivation techniques… took a lot of ways.”
It was fine when he hadn’t spoken, but at the sound of his voice, though Chen Shu lay deep in slumber, her hand seemed to see it coming. Unerringly, she patted twice upward, found his lips, startling Yun Shen into silence. Yet she kept fumbling, moving downward to press against his jaw. With a determined lift, though small, her hand firmly clamped over his mouth like a beast’s jaw gag, refusing to budge. She tilted her head, squeezed contentedly deeper into the folds of Yun Shen’s robe.
Listening closely, her mumbled speech was unmistakably:
“…Beast, don’t growl…”
That hand of Chen Shu’s was truly firm as an iron claw, leaving Yun Shen resentful yet unable to voice it. Even his usual strained smile couldn’t form. With a muffled grunt, he gave up struggling and simply cast a pleading glance at He Yu, who was enjoying the spectacle, gesturing helplessly with one free hand.
He Yu hadn’t heard the few syllables she’d whispered, but finding her both pitiable and endearing, he smirked knowingly. Patting Chen Shu’s back gently, he urged in a warm tone, “Time to get up. Lord Shen is calling you!”
“Huh? I didn’t… She made me hold her…” Chen Shu mumbled groggily, opening her eyes. As she sat up swiftly, she nearly collided with Yun Shen’s chin, jolting herself fully awake. For a quiet moment, she stared wide-eyed at Yun Shen until he indicated, with an upward tilt of his still tightly clamped lips, her own hand’s offense. Only then did understanding dawn. She gasped sharply, truly shaken from the remnants of her dream, and embarrassed, withdrew her hand, shaking it briefly.
“Are we setting off?” she blurted, adopting an urgent tone as she turned. Her effort was visible. Had she not slept until the sun was high, her entire body still curled up in Yun Shen’s embrace, this portrayal of someone tormented by worldly concerns and busied by weighty matters might indeed have fooled onlookers.
“No rush. Lord Shen actually suggested I come find you at noon. She’d only just retired herself.” He Yu paused. “But circumstances are pressing. After all, we’re leaving soon and who knows when we’ll next meet? I thought it best to take you to see…”
Inside the robe, Yun Shen unconsciously tightened his grip on Chen Shu’s hand, then abruptly released it as if catching himself. Oblivious, Chen Shu tilted her head up, listening intently as He Yu spoke to her. True to her impatient nature, she interrupted halfway, demanding, “What? See who? Not that grumpy Li Chou, surely?”
“Take you to see Li Chou?” He Yu chuckled again, rising to his feet. “You must still be half-asleep — it’s Yan Ji. He’s back.”
“Who?” Yun Shen asked.
“Yan Ji. How many Yan Jis are there?” He Yu replied. “Not only is he back, he brought quite a few fine steeds with him. Lord Shen won’t have to argue with that Liu Mao now. I came to fetch you to see him, and incidentally— to properly choose a horse for today’s journey, so you can collect on that debt he owes you from getting you drunk!”