Chapter 79

Truth be told, ever since descending the mountain, Chen Shu had mingled among martial artists—many of whom couldn’t read script large or small—so she’d barely had reason to write at all. Even the day Li Chou saw her calligraphy, it was his first time; that was why he expressed surprise, nitpicked, and even volunteered for extra tasks.

Thus, naturally, Yun Shen should never have seen her handwriting either.

Yet at this moment, gazing at those foreign-looking characters, he seemed to instantly recognize they weren’t Chen Shu’s. Though he kept a perfectly measured smile on his surface, flickers of emotion—something between displeasure and sentiment—shimmered in his eyes. These unfamiliar feelings cut through him like a crack in flawless jade, suggesting a single further tap might shatter his composure entirely.

Yun Shen blinked, lowered his head, and sat. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around the ornamental grooves of the fine wooden chair. Skin met carved depressions and rises; he rubbed deliberately, firmly, until his fingertips warped beneath sharp edges—pain apparent to the eye alone.

This steadied his breathing. When he lifted his gaze, Xiao Zhong was still holding forth from his seat above.

“…Now I recall hearing this woman possesses remarkable skill. But rumors always exaggerate, yes? Yet just days ago, word actually came from Diancang Pass: though she carries no sword, her fists and feet prove mightier than an ordinary man’s blade! On the day they flooded Diancang Pass, she cracked open their city wall by splitting it with common iron!” Xiao Zhong, swept up in excitement, tossed aside the paper, strode down to Yun Shen’s side, and mimed hefting something heavy as he leaned forward to demonstrate. “That was Diancang Pass’s wall—that wretched barricade. I sent others to test it recently: hard as rocks in a cesspit. Ordinary weapons couldn’t scratch it! Yet in utter chaos, she tore it open barehanded! Proof she’s no common rabble! Utterly fascinating!”

Seated quietly in his chair, Yun Shen waited for Xiao Zhong to finish. Neither man seemed aware that Xiao Zhong—lord of all Yubei—stood while Yun Shen, merely a scholar in white robes, sat observing his frenzied gesticulation.

“She indeed isn’t common folk,” Yun Shen answered mildly, without pressing about this alleged “word” from Diancang Pass, as if casually agreeing.

Only then did Xiao Zhong seem to actually notice him. Leaning abruptly closer, eyes hawk-like, he flashed an unsettling grin: “I recall… Yes! From your first day here, your opening words proclaimed you came for her, didn’t they? You know her?”

“You speak like one who knows the answer,” Yun Shen laughed softly, then countered: “If I weren’t acquainted with her, why brave danger to enter this Valley of Villains? How else might I have learned of her lost sword and quest to find it before this bounty notice even surfaced?”

Two probing questions—their edge might have felt sharp had Yun Shen’s tone been less gentle. Yet Xiao Zhong showed no anger. Tilted head, hands still frozen mid-gesture, he pondered earnestly as if locked in thought. Finally, he reasoned: “Logical. You must love her deeply, hm?”

The sheer incongruity, the lack of context, briefly stole the ease from Yun Shen’s expression.

“…That depends on what love you envision,” he deflected after a fleeting pause, tossing the question back.

Predictably, Xiao Zhong sank back into profound contemplation.

“Well, at the very least, not like the affection for weapons in my courtyard or—or venison, my favorite delicacy. For venison, I’d never trek through mountains and rivers to Diancang Pass just to cross blades with that pitiable imperial garrison—” He glanced upward mid-sentence, suddenly beaming. Pirouetting gleefully around the chamber, he declared: “—This pavilion! Isn’t it?! For this pinnacle of splendid architecture, I spared countless lives! Facing a person yet enduring their yammering when I yearn to rend them limb from limb? That’s suffering of the highest order— Wait, who was it again?”

As he veered off-course, Yun Shen exhaled and gently guided the conversation back.

“Ah… It resembles this pavilion, indeed,” Yun Shen concurred smoothly. “Yet a building cannot fight back. It cannot vanish. But a skilled person might. Even intimacy offers no guarantee. What if discord arises, feelings cool? Won’t all this effort crumble? Therefore, I simply seek to borrow your manpower. Lure Miss Chen here to the valley, then… employ certain methods to make her love—”

“—So she’ll never run away again!” Xiao Zhong interjected feverishly. Eyes ablaze, seeming even more impassioned than Yun Shen himself, he snatched Yun Shen’s arm. Fingers dug deep enough to bruise the shoulder; Yun Shen’s face contorted, his forced calm finally shredding. Yet Xiao Zhong, inches away, behaved as if blind to this, shrieking rapturously: “Shatter her legs! No, better: sever her legs! Teach her she can never leave you! What jolly fun that would be!”

Even Yun Shen fell speechless. Lips parted slightly, he drew a sharp breath before emitting an indeterminate, strangled sound.

Luckily, Xiao Zhong cared nothing for a reply. Though staring him down, the momentary horror flashing across Yun Shen’s face went utterly unseen. A pause after his outburst—not even awaiting a response—then he abruptly released Yun Shen, whirling back toward his chair.

“Good!” Xiao Zhong reached his seat, slapped his thigh, and roared with laughter—approving something only he understood. Sitting, he jabbed a finger toward Yun Shen, proclaiming grandly: “And you are intriguing too! Splendid! I truly will assign you more men—to spread whatever talk you wanted…” His words held no trace of concealment, as if forgetting a promise only days old troubled him not at all.

“Say someone found a treasured sword,” Yun Shen steadied, snapping back to the present, “and brought it back to the Valley of Villains to present to you. Claim it fits this bounty notice’s description precisely—pass it on exactly as written.”

“Wait, what about the sword?” Xiao Zhong asked, his brow genuinely furrowing as he inquired earnestly. “If that ‘Chen Shu’ really comes looking, won’t it be bad if I don’t have such a sword?—I am someone who, by nature, dislikes spinning lies to deceive people; it’s tiresome!”

Yun Shen’s fingers, which had been stroking the armrest, paused, then relaxed, slowly withdrawing into his sleeve. He stood up, apparently finally grasping that Xiao Zhong’s interest lay not solely in Chen Shu. He bowed respectfully to Xiao Zhong and declared solemnly:

“This is precisely the matter I was about to raise—So long as you have iron and a blacksmith, I can deliver into Your Honor’s hands a treasured sword identical in every way.”

Autumn was long; from early autumn it passed, and even as deep autumn arrived, winter still seemed a distant prospect. Gazing upon the towering peaks, the undulating ridges stretched like dragons and snakes in flight, coiling around the area of the Yushui River. Though they rose high into the clouds, not a trace of snow touched them.

The first city’s aid grain arrived at Diancang Pass, coming from the nearest Xian City.

Though not bountiful, this grain was enough to help all the residents within the pass hold out for another month or so. When it entered the city, Chen Shu was hidden amongst the common folk, joining them in lining the streets to welcome it.

The previous time, she had been the one surrounded and ushered into the city, an experience that had left her feeling somewhat awkward. But this time, mingling within the crowd and shouting cheers along with everyone else, all that tension and bewilderment was vented freely in each loud cry.

Standing amidst the throng, watching those entering the city, was indeed a novel and strange feeling. Xian City was close to Diancang Pass, and the people coming in seemed to recognize a few residents within the pass, appearing rather relaxed. Later, when people from cities like Mengcheng arrived, they were even more flustered than Chen Shu had been that day; some even fell from their horses, nearly causing a scene.

A few days later, likely because Shen Jie had already reached the capital, or her messenger had, a royal decree came down from the court.

Slowly, the visiting guests at Diancang Pass left, one after another. The sight of martial artists filling every corner like before the flood vanished, leaving the place rather empty. Yet, day by day, it grew busier. Those with particular resourcefulness, some “knowing someone in high places” or having rummaged for materials from somewhere, had already managed to repair their houses with bricks, tiles, and planks. These dwellings were now decent enough to house a few people. Even those displaced, under the Emperor’s decree, found ways to earn their keep. During daylight hours, they helped with official duties, assigned to transport grain, distribute charity porridge, assist in repairing buildings, or clean the streets. Those who could read landed even easier tasks, like registering the count of the dead and the survivors after the great flood.

Thus, the pass gradually regained a fraction of its former hustle and bustle.

Chen Shu had posted one of her lost-sword notices within Diancang Pass, placing it near the magistracy itself. Every time she came to check it, she could incidentally glance inside at the magistracy’s Liu Mao.

Honestly, she didn’t hold out great hope. Everyone within the pass was busy trying to make a living or find family, tasks most pressing. Since she wasn’t in a desperate hurry, she visited daily almost as if only clocking in for duty, reminiscent of someone actually holding a gate-watching job at the magistracy.

Unexpectedly, within a few days, a masked person truly found her at the inn where she was staying—though it barely qualified as an inn anymore, just a ruin she found quite satisfactory.

At their meeting, the first words spoken cut straight to the chase, asking about the notice posted at the magistracy’s entrance.

“… On my way here, I heard that someone in Evil Man Valley found a treasured sword and presented it to their bandit king—”

Chen Shu’s eyes lit up. “Really?!” she blurted.

“… Hearsay. I cannot guarantee it for you, Miss,” the person said, their figure obscured within the shadows, indistinct.

“That’s okay! Even if it’s false, I still want to give you a reward!” Chen Shu declared, reaching to search her pockets. Then she suddenly remembered: the payment she’d won at the Sword Discussion Tournament hadn’t even passed through her hands before she casually gave it away.

“The reward you wish to give, Miss, was already paid before.”

“Huh?” Chen Shu, who was still rummaging frantically through her pockets for coins, looked up in confusion. As she did, she saw the masked person speak while simultaneously pulling a rock-like object from their sleeve. It clunked down right before her eyes—a polished stone, light swirling within it, revealing two inscribed words:

—Tian Yu.

“Ah! That’s my jade!” Chen Shu exclaimed in surprise, cupping her hands to receive it. “Then I must thank you properly—”

Shifting her gaze back to the masked person, she abruptly froze, her words stopping mid-sentence.

Only now, standing closer, could she clearly see the eyes revealed above the mask. One smiled at her with warmth and kindness; the other was completely covered by an eyepatch.

“… Haven’t you recognized me yet?” he asked, laughing.