Chapter 52

Chapter 52

“What did he toss to you just now?”

Moving through the mountains, they seemed to have passed the sheer cliffs strewn with jagged rocks and devoid of any vegetation. The roadside shrubs now bore emerald hues, with one or two bare brown branches stretching from the cliff’s edge, gradually sprouting new leaves. Faint green buds emerged from nothingness, clinging to this barren mountain path before multiplying. This place was no Tianyu Mountain, lacking its vibrant vitality; yet it possessed a rugged splendor all its own—every stroke of the landscape, every plant, seemed imbued with strength. The sweeping vista held only immense, silent, and formidable ranges, save for the stray winter geese occasionally crossing the sky. Windless and cloudless, they inspired awe.

Two figures traveled one behind the other. Leading the way, Shen Jie guided her horse with practiced ease along rugged mountain paths. She moved efficiently, familiar with the route. Only after crossing a treacherous peak did she tug the reins, slowing her horse as daylight flooded over splendid scenery. She glanced back at Chen Shu.

Chen Shu was far less adept. Regardless of path familiarity—she had Shen Jie ahead to prevent any wrong turns—the strange rocks and roadside thorns constantly snagged her attention. She frequently slowed to inspect them curiously. After studying something at length, she’d turn to find Shen Jie vanished ahead, spurring her to frantically catch up. Whether she secretly used tricks to make her talkative, playful black horse move unnaturally fast remained unknown.

Shen Jie paused before the next uphill slope. Chen Shu squeezed her horse’s sides; the black steed leapt forward, halting right behind Shen Jie just as she posed the question.

As she spoke, Shen Jie glanced back at Chen Shu—casual, yet with the faint edge of someone accustomed to interrogating suspects—but Chen Shu quickly understood it was merely to confirm she’d caught up. After the question, Shen Jie nudged her horse’s flanks. Though meeting just that day, the mount responded keenly, stepping forward obediently.

Chen Shu patted the black horse beneath her. Unlike Shen Jie, she had no formal riding skill, and their journey only highlighted her strange method—less like guiding a beast, more like playing with it. Murmuring “Slow down” near its ear, she got dust across her cheek from its flicking ear, yet remained unbothered, settling back cheerfully before recalling the question.

“Oh, it’s mine, actually,” Chen Shu replied, fumbling to retrieve something tied beside her saddle. She stretched her arm awkwardly to show Shen Jie. “Look—my sword tassel.”

Out of the hollow and into sunlight, the delicate tassel rested in Chen Shu’s palm, half its strands spilling past her thumb webbing. It swung with each jolt of the horse, casting shimmering reflections.

Shen Jie examined it with interest, lightly touching one spot. “Why’s this part frayed?”

“Lord Shen, you have sharp eyes!” Chen Shu exclaimed. “Ah, it was fine before. I spent ages weaving it. Sadly, during the Sword Discussion Tournament… that scoundrel!—his strike was clumsy, no ‘cherishing swordsmanship’ at all—damaged this tassel on my waist!”

“Truly a pity,” Shen Jie noted, lifting her gaze to Chen Shu. “How did Yun Shen get it then?”

“I gave it to him. All those worldly things felt like burdens; I dumped them on him.” Chen Shu stuck out her tongue. “Plus, a broken tassel’s useless. I thought, since I didn’t want it, might as well have him throw it away. He told me then he’d tossed it! But look—why did I even choose him?”

Shen Jie chuckled warmly. “Why Yun Shen? Why not give it to someone else? Or just trash it?”

“Back then, a voice inside my head…” Chen Shu scrunched her nose, struggling to recall. “Well, not a voice, but a feeling. That if I discarded it, I ought to return it… Why ‘return’? See, that really is odd—”

“Ha! Maybe your mind just leaps like a wild horse, full of whimsy,” Shen Jie joked, tapping the tassel with her crop. “Put it away safely! Since he kept it all this time and rushed back to return it on your parting day—this is more than just a tassel now.”

Chen Shu startled, fiddling with the tassel. “What? Did he hide something inside? A message?”

“Not that,” Shen Jie shook her head, her laughter ringing out before she cracked her crop. Her horse instantly shot up the hill slope as she shouted down, “—This thing’s a keepsake now! Isn’t it?”

The merry echo bounced between mountains, softening the solemn landscape. Chen Shu stared blankly at the tassel in her hands. She raised it against the fierce sun. She didn’t know what she sought. Backlit, the intense rays shone through the dangling wisps, stirring her emotions, making the damaged gap seem sharper—a pang that felt both wistful and tender.

“Hurry up! If we meet any forks later, I won’t wait!” Shen Jie yelled ahead.

Chen Shu snapped back, instinctively tucking away the tassel and urging her horse forward. Charging recklessly uphill, she slowed to Shen Jie’s side, sharing a wordless glance. For some reason, she flushed with awkwardness.

“Good thing you’re here, Lord Shen,” she blurted, scrambling past their earlier words with clumsy, earnest praise. “I’d truly have gotten lost without you!”

They rode side by side once more. Hoofbeats settled into beats like measured music. The path was cramped—two horses could hardly pass easily. Yet one rider was skilled, the other fearless as a calf. Matching strides came naturally.

“It’s you who’ve helped,” Shen Jie paused before replying gravely. “This flooding at Diancang Pass was man-made. Had the instigators not chosen the Sword Discussion Tournament day, and had so many righteous souls not stepped forward… the common folk of Diancang might not have escaped those raging waters.”

“But they did endure, didn’t they?” Chen Shu asked, perplexed. “I saw you organize things calmly and firmly. Those yamen runners and soldiers worked hard too. Even without the Tournament or us helpers, with you and Liu Mao there, couldn’t you have handled the flood? Why say that?”

Their pace slowed unknowingly. Shen Jie’s horse plodded steadily onward. Chen Shu’s younger, mercurial black horse had swiveled an ear to eavesdrop intently.

Shen Jie noted it, her lips curving subtly before she answered, “You’ve touched on it. Tell me—what do you make of Liu Mao?”

“Uh… timorous and image-obsessed?” Chen Shu mused. “But he didn’t strike me as purely evil. Capable, even. Commanded troops like wild wolves—full of fierce urgency.”

That wasn’t his training.” Shen Jie chuckled, gently tapping Chen Shu’s head with her crop. “All those courtly tales skipped right past you, did they? Pure martial fanatic!”

“Then tell me, sir, tell me!”

“The surname Liu is the imperial surname; you at least know that much, right?” Shen Jie replied leisurely. “It is said that General Liu was originally a beloved imperial relative of the late emperor—though not that closely related. In previous years, he leveraged imperial favor to establish a firm footing in the capital. After the current emperor ascended the throne, due to past closeness with the general’s father, he even allowed their family to live quite a carefree life for a time.”

“Oh, so he’s from the capital? Then why was he sent to this backwater?” Chen Shu inquired. “Did the emperor stop liking him?”

“Say, aren’t you quick on the uptake,” Shen Jie chuckled teasingly. “Yes and no. The current emperor is advanced in age, and the political situation in the capital is unstable. To top it off, Liu Mao’s father passed away from illness a few years ago. This ‘second generation’ has made many enemies—no faction in the capital could stand him. The emperor, unwilling to bother protecting him any longer and fed up with memorials denouncing him cluttering the imperial desk, sent him to Diancang Pass to throw his weight around.”

“Sir, are you saying he came unwillingly?”

Shen Jie didn’t answer directly but continued her earlier train of thought. “Therefore, most of the troops under his command stemmed from his late father’s personal connections and estate—they really had little to do with Liu Mao himself.”

“No wonder…”

“No wonder that even though Liu Mao can’t entirely hide his decadent habits after arriving at Diancang Pass, he’s become much more cautious, is that it?” Shen Jie suggested. “However, what I pointed out earlier wasn’t about his origins or character, but about the flood—I’m just someone who investigates and verifies cases; when it comes to the affairs of the imperial court, my words carry no weight.”

Chen Shu blinked, practically leaning on her horse’s back. “Could Lord Shen mean that by merely looking at the enormous floodwaters, she can deduce that General Liu… intended to flood Diancang Pass as a means to return to the capital?”

“No,” Shen Jie stated. “Speculating on the motives of perpetrators isn’t my job. If you presided over court trials, you’d understand. Those capable of committing such vile deeds have reasons that are bizarre and unpredictable; it’s truly difficult for ordinary people to guess their minds.”

“Then what…”

“Think about it carefully. The Yingqiu City we’re headed to, though the closest to Diancang Pass, is still a full day’s journey by fast horse. And the person who intended to flood all of Diancang Pass—if they merely wanted to inundate the city, why choose the exact period when martial artists had gathered and the Sword Discussion Tournament was at its peak, unless it had been planned for days? Anyone capable of such a scheme couldn’t possibly overlook that the city was teeming with extraordinary skills at that moment. Though the flood was powerful, Diancang Pass had high walls for protection. Even if water overflowed, it would mostly damage grain stores and houses. With the help of those martial artists, it’s unlikely large numbers of people would actually drown.”

“—He deliberately picked that date!”

“Most likely.” Shen Jie paused, then added, “This person is vicious, willing to endanger an entire city for personal gain. The timing was meticulously chosen. But why exactly the final day, and precisely at the moment you were dueling on the platform?—

“Did you notice? Once the flood passed, all the buildings in the city were either collapsed or submerged. Even the few structures that didn’t collapse were barely spared because the floodwaters receded quickly. Only one place… or rather, twelve places remained standing tall amidst the deluge!”