Chapter Seventeen

Thunder roared in the night, and the gale howled with such ferocity that it felt nothing like the gentle season of spring; it seemed as if a torrential downpour was imminent.

In a grand estate, Prince Zhong the Second stood in the courtyard. The doors to the house remained open, banging rhythmically against the frames under the assault of the wind, and the trees in the yard appeared as if they might be uprooted at any moment. The fish in the pond leaped frantically to the surface, as if sensing the coming of the apocalypse. Yet, Prince Zhong stood motionless outside, indifferent to the lashing wind. Only his clothes fluttered violently, yet he remained as still as a statue, his eyes fixed on a single point as if he were the master of this world.

Qin Zhaotian approached. "The weather this year is truly cursed. Who would have thought spring could bring such a storm?"

Prince Zhong did not stir until the other was close, then he spoke: "What is it? No sword practice tonight?"

"We leave early tomorrow, so I planned to turn in early," Qin replied, adding, "I saw that your door was left open, so I came to check on you."

"Well, is everything prepared?"

Qin Zhaotian nodded. "I have given the orders as you instructed, though I still feel we do not need so many men."

Prince Zhong took a deep breath. "A few days ago, I met with San Qingfeng. He mentioned that the female disciple of He Yuyun would also be ascending the mountain. He hopes we can dispose of her to prevent her father from obtaining that technique."

Qin Zhaotian paused, his brows knitting in confusion. "If San Qiudao obtains the technique, wouldn't that be more advantageous for us? Why stop it?"

Prince Zhong shifted his stance. "Just put on a show; do not truly offend San Qiudao. San Qingfeng is a cunning man, and even I cannot fathom what he is truly planning."

Qin Zhaotian remained silent, lost in thought.

"That technique lies at the heart of the Wuqianjun Tomb. Even the Five Ethics of the Jianghu failed there years ago. Now, the place is surely riddled with deadly toxins; for that young girl to think she can claim it is nothing but a joke!"

Prince Zhong turned back. "Whether she obtains it or not is irrelevant. We should offend neither of them. Only when tomorrow’s business is concluded will San Qingfeng be truly bound to my cause." Qin Zhaotian hesitated for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

***

At the mountain stronghold, Mu Xiangming sat on a stool by her teacher’s bedside. Outside, the wind shrieked like a vengeful ghost. She no longer seemed to fear it. Gazing at her teacher’s bloodless face, she thought of Lin He, and a sharp ache pierced her heart, blurring her vision with tears. She did not know what to do; stifling a sob, she trembled. Ever since she learned of Lin He’s fate, she had felt as if her soul had been torn away, leaving her a hollow shell, a walking corpse.

She reached into the quilt to hold her teacher’s hand.

"I do not know... what I should do... Teacher, tell me, should I seek vengeance for Lin He, or..." At that moment, the wind burst the window open. A torrent of air surged into the room like a tidal wave, extinguishing the candles. In the ensuing darkness, the sounds of destruction filled the room—tables overturned, the vanity toppled, the candle stand thrown to the floor. The storm ravaged everything in its path.

Mu Xiangming fought against the gale to bolt the window shut once more and relit the candles. The room finally fell silent, though it was in utter disarray. Outside, the wind continued its ghostly wailing, the window rattling as if it would burst open again. Such a frail paper-and-wood window, yet it resisted the mighty storm in its own way.

She understood. She had decided. Suddenly, her eyes grew resolute—the first decision she had ever made entirely of her own will.

"Teacher, Xiangming knows what must be done."

***

Just past the Kowloon region toward Fushan, the sky had not yet fully darkened.

Ma Chen drove the horse against the fierce wind. The surrounding trees groaned, but the horse pressed on, cutting through the gale without a hint of hesitation.

The two stopped under the shelter of a dilapidated woodshed to wait out the rain. After stabling the horse and lighting a fire, their day’s journey drew to a close. The shed had been built by woodcutters who, caught by darkness, would stay here to avoid the beasts of the night. Constructed of stone and a few wooden pillars, it had no door and had clearly stood for many years.

Lin He stood at the entrance, feeling the cold wind. He looked toward the distant, hazy mountain range—the direction of his home. For the first time, he felt the weight of drifting alone; it was an indescribable sensation, as if something vital had been lost from his heart, turning his longing into a tangible pain. But he knew that the most important thing—the core of his home—was gone, and he had to reclaim it.

Ma Chen brought over a grilled cake and handed it to him.

"What is it? You seem burdened by heavy thoughts."

Lin He took the cake with a faint smile. "It is my first time traveling so far; it is hard not to be preoccupied."

Ma Chen held his own cake in his right hand, gesturing with his left, and said with a chuckle, "From the age of ten, my family stopped looking after me. I drank, fought, and gambled on horses. Only later did I realize such ways were wrong, and I turned over a new leaf."

Lin He took a bite. "My family kept me on a very short leash. They wouldn't let me practice martial arts or teach me to fight; they only taught me evasion techniques, which is why I have ended up in this state."

Ma Chen nodded. "It is a pity that someone with Lin Brother’s fine lightness skills lacks a solid foundation. Why not start now? I shall teach you swordplay! Combined with your 'Yuyin Nine Heavens,' you would be like a tiger with wings. You would have nothing to fear from them!"

Ma Chen looked at him, but Lin He shook his head with a helpless smile. "Martial arts are not mastered in a day, and the Imperial Court is not something I alone can contend with." Ma Chen nodded slowly; Lin was right.

Lin He furrowed his brows. "Ma Brother, with your wealthy family, why not simply buy your way into a sect instead of spending so much time on the selection process?"

Ma Chen let out a long breath and looked outside. "I have considered that several times, but I always rejected the idea. I believe that only by entering through one’s own strength can one travel further on this path."

Lin He was moved by his resolve. Ma Chen turned back. "If you ever have trouble, brother, just come to White Cloud Peak to find me! I will not refuse."

Lin He cupped his hands. "Your word is worth a thousand pieces of gold."

Ma Chen returned the gesture. "A favor of a day, brothers for a lifetime."