LI QINGQIAN ONLY REMEMBERED the man's upturned and narrow almond eyes, which looked as though they were veiled behind a river's worth of mist. The man's gaze had swept around the shabby little shack, making sure there weren't any survivors, before landing on Li Qingqian and his brother.
Li Qingqian stared blankly at this cultivator in green while his baby brother sobbed in his arms, sick with fever. Even as young as he was, the child seemed to realize they had suffered a catastrophic loss, that he'd lost the papa who wove him bamboo dragonflies and the mama who liked to tweak his nose...
The cultivator in green looked at them for a time. He walked over and lowered his gaze behind that golden mask. After a moment, he produced a bottle of medicine along with some loose silver. "This medicine can heal most common illnesses," he said. "Keep it for your brother."
Without another word, he turned to leave.
Li Qingqian remained frozen for a long time before abruptly returning to his senses. He grabbed the medicine and the silver and rushed outside to find that the village was littered with black-clothed corpses. The man in green seemed to be making sure no evildoers had escaped. "Da-gege!" Li Qingqian cried out, falling to his knees before his mysterious savior.
The green-robed man turned to look at him from behind the mask.
"Da-gege, p-please take us with you!"
The man said nothing.
Li Qingqian's eyes were bloodshot. "We've always, always been running...but Mama and Papa were still. ..still..." He was crying so hard he could scarcely speak. "Da-gege, please..."
In the end, however, that green-clothed man didn't take them; instead, he gave Li Qingqian a sword cultivation manual. He said that the style was too weak for him to make much use of, but as long as Li Qingqian diligently worked at it, he could perhaps use this manual to forge his own sword path, which would be sufficient for self-defense.
Now, as Li Qinggian watched Hong Shao crying in the dirt, pleading for him to keep her, he seemed to see himself from long ago, could feel the same helplessness and despair. Finally, he sighed and walked over to Hong Shao. "Get up."
Hong Shao was startled to see him turn and come back. She gazed up at him with teary eyes, sobs hitching in her throat.
"But remember—I'm only taking you along for now. If we pass by anywhere nice, anywhere you can stay, then I won't keep you with me."
ugh her tears, words of agreement pouring from her mouth. She had seen her fair share of humanity, and she knew that Li Qingqian had a kind heart. If he didn't abandon her now, then he was even less likely to in the future. She nodded energetically, head bobbing like a chicken pecking at rice. "Whatever Da-gege says!"
As if.
That first day, she was yet obedient, but by day three, she was jumping about, climbing trees, and rolling on the ground. By year three, she was long out of control—whatever Li Qingqian did, she did as well. And unlike what she had promised, her appetite was plenty large, and she ate a lot. Every time Li Qingqian noticed their rice jar was empty, he'd turn to look at Hong Shao chasing the dog around in the yard. He'd sigh fondly and shake his head. Fortunately, a kindly old scholar had accepted his little brother as a disciple many years ago. If they'd had one more mouth to feed, Li Qingqian would have really been in trouble.
Hong Shao had once asked him, "Da-gege, you're so strong. Why don't you ask for a higher fee after killing demons?"
"Because those people are poor too..." Li Qinggian responded.
"But you could go kill demons for rich people."
At that time, Li Qingqian hadn't fully developed the Water-Parting Sword and could only poorly copy what was in the green-clothed cultivator's manual. Laughing, he said, "First of all, I'm not strong enough.
Second, there's this many people"—he spread his hands wide apart for Hong Shao—"willing to work for the rich. But hardly a one of them are willing to help people in small countries like Lichun."
"I see!" Hong Shao munched on a steamed bun, nodding. "You're a good person!"
"My savior from back then was a good person as well," Li Qinggian said, smiling bashfully. "I never learned who he was, but I've always wanted to become a cultivator like that. But...I definitely won't be as strong as him. And I will probably always be this poor."
Hong Shao wasn't happy with this. Mouth full of steamed bun, she sketched a large circle with her hands. "No, Dage is the strongest! Dage is...this...this"—she strained to pull her arms into an even bigger circle —"this strong!"
Li Qingqian laughed out loud and patted her on the head. "If you keep talking, you'll drop that steamed bun."
Hong Shao yelled and bit down, grinning as she chomped on the steamed bun and kicked her feet. Her goose-yellow embroidered shoes were beautiful and very clean; Li Qingqian had purchased them with the pitiful few cowrie shells he had. She was very careful when she wore them, and though they might have been old after so many years, they were very rarely dirty.
Li Qingqian and Hong Shao traveled together like this, doing good deeds as they wished and cultivating the path of the sword together. The vision flowed onward, and now Hong Shao was sitting in a tree, wildly shaking it for fruit. Li Qingqian stood beneath, and though his head ached, he nevertheless looked up at her with overwhelming tenderness. But this kind of calm and peaceful life couldn't last. Mo Xi already knew what kind of ending awaited them—looking at their brilliant smiles was akin to gazing at a beautiful mirage. This girl would leave Li Qingqian. He would become famous. Then he would die. In the end, he would be forged into a vicious sword spirit.
How had all this come to pass?
The vision shifted and changed, and each layer of the mystery began to gradually erode, revealing the bare truth beneath the sands of time.
On a day near the end of spring, they came to the turning point. Hong Shao fell sick.
The two of them had recently passed by a little village near the Liao Kingdom. The Liao Kingdom's territories were ever suffused with demonic energy, which thickened as spring turned to summer. Hong Shao was accidentally infected with a demonic miasma, and she became seriously ill and bedridden, quickly growing thin and pallid. Li Qingqian sought doctors far and wide, but the medicine to treat this kind of ailment was expensive. Even average citizens couldn't afford it, to say nothing of the penniless Li Qingqian. Again and again, doctors refused to see him. "If you want medicine, let's see the money first," the healers all huffed. "We see patients like this every day. If we so freely gave out treatment, how would there be enough herbs?"
Although those healers' attitudes were nasty, Mo Xi knew they weren't wrong. The medicine for treating this kind of miasma was permanently in short supply, and each country had its own methods of restricting its use. For example, only nobles could purchase it in Chonghua, which was why Gu Mang had once leveraged Murong Lian's name to procure medicine for that village. The Liao Kingdom was slightly more lax. They didn't care about bloodlines; they only cared about money.
But Li Qingqian had none.
He sat beside Hong Shao's sickbed. She looked like a wilted flower; gone was the energy for jumping and shouting. She could only squint at him through red, swollen eyes, her lips moving slightly.
"What was that?" Li Qingqian whispered.
Hong Shao's mouth moved again. Li Qingqian had to lean in very close to hear what she was saying with a smile on her face. "Heh, I don't eat much anymore. I can save Li-dage some money..."
That day, after Hong Shao fell asleep, Li Qinggian stepped out of the little thatched hut and crouched on the steps, staring off into space. He was suddenly unable to bear it; he curled up and began to cry. He was afraid to weep too loudly—firstly, because it would be unbecoming for a grown man, and secondly, because he didn't want to wake Hong Shao, who had just fallen into a restless sleep.
What should he do? What was he supposed to do?
He really wasn't as strong as Hong Shao believed. He really hadn't become the green-robed cultivator from his childhood. He couldn't even protect the little girl who accompanied him. After so many years, other than ambition and empty words, he had nothing.
Mo Xi could hardly stand to watch anymore. But this story had already been told; he knew their fates could no longer be changed.
The vision continued to move along. The young Li Qingqian wandered through the busiest markets in the Liao Kingdom, blank-eyed and helpless. He'd sold off what little he could for seven doses of medicine in order to buy some more time for Hong Shao. Now, only one dose was left. What would they do tomorrow?
"Come, come! Look carefully! The requirements are very strict! Don't try to cheat!"
From a corner of the market came the pounding of drums. Hong Shao loved this kind of lively atmosphere, and she'd always drag Li Qingqian over to take a peek around whenever they chanced upon such things. He walked over out of absentminded habit, as though Hong Shao was still at his side, chattering and pulling on his sleeve as she bounced up and down, complaining that she couldn't see over the crowd. He stood and stared blankly for a moment. He came to his senses and was about to leave when he heard shouts rising from the crowd.
"Are they really offering that much money?!"
"The guoshi is seriously too bold. Good heavens. It sure makes me envious."
To Li Qingqian, the word money used to be nothing more than a gust of wind, but now the sound of it was like the prick of a needle. He whipped around and glanced over with bright eyes.
On the stage, an elite Liao Kingdom cultivator paced back and forth, striking a drum to attract attention. Behind him hung a silk portrait as tall as three men. Its subject was a beautiful and alluring woman with a mole at the corner of her eye. From this angle, she unexpectedly looked quite like Hong Shao.
Li Qingqian was taken aback. He heard the Liao Kingdom cultivator shouting over and over, "The guoshi has read the will of the stars! All girls who look like this will bring prosperity to the kingdom! All who conform to these requirements will be accepted in the palace!"
He banged on the drum and raised his voice again. "The chosen girls will become priestesses in the palace, and their families will receive a thousand gold cowries. We're taking volunteers only. Those who are interested, please come to the back of the stage to be examined!"
Li Qingqian stared into space for a while before coming to a sudden realization. He rushed backstage to the Liao Kingdom cultivators overseeing the examination. His voice shook as he asked, "Will the guoshi take any girl who looks like this?"
"As long as she looks similar enough!"
"What is he taking them for?"
"Are you deaf?" the cultivator said impatiently. "He's taking them as priestesses—they'Il have the good fortune to learn divination and astrology from the guoshi himself! We've said it loud and clear—what's so hard to understand?"
Li Qingqian's palms were clammy with sweat. He swallowed hard, and his eyes widened in both pain and hope. Ignoring the man's nasty attitude, he pressed on, "S-so if the girl has demonic miasma, you will... you are willing to..."
"Didn't I say that we'll take any girl with the right features? Demonic miasma, so what? Won't she be fine with a bit of medicine?! What kind of dog-fart question is this! If you have someone who looks like this, then bring her to show us! If she doesn't look like the picture, then get lost! Priestesses have to meet high standards! Useless beggar," the cultivator spat. "Wasting my time!"
Li Qingqian remained in shock. Yes...what kind of question was this? Demonic miasma wasn't some incurable disease. It was just as the cultivator said—the afflicted only needed a bit of spiritual medicine. A few doses of medicine were nothing to the guoshi, but they were far beyond Li Qingqian's means, even if he dug out his heart and cut open his liver. The man was right. He was no more than a useless fool who couldn't even save the girl he loved. A penniless beggar. Hong Shao should never have gone with him. It was he who made her suffer.
Li Qingqian trudged back to the little cottage, his mind somehow racing yet empty at the same time. A stall owner was hawking his wares by the side of the street. "Jade and pearl hairpins, forehead ornaments and inlaid necklaces, rouge and powder and more! Come take a look—"
Li Qingqian slowed to a stop before the stall. He wanted to take a closer look, but given how empty his pockets were, he didn't dare step forward.
The seller noticed him and smiled. "Little brother, looking for something for your sweetheart?"
The word sweetheart felt like a needle mercilessly stabbing into his soul. Half-dazed, Li Qingqian was dragged over by the enthusiastic stallkeeper. "Look, the best gold and jade hairpins from Suyab, impossibly clear..."
"I don't have that much money..."
"Not much money?" The shopkeeper was shocked for a moment. He pursed his lips before continuing to smile. "No problem, no problem. Let's look for something more affordable. This rouge has an exquisite texture and scent, and the technique is a family secret passed down by my great- grandmother. The price is very reasonable—only twenty white shells."
Li Qingqian's money pouch only held three white cowrie shells. Seeing how embarrassed he looked, the shopkeeper stopped chattering and looked him up and down. Noticing the patches on his clothes, the smile on his face gradually disappeared. Still, he casually produced a humble little fabric flower, shoddy in both material and make, and carelessly tossed it in front of Li Qingqian. "Then how about this? Five white cowries." He raised his beady eyes to look at him. "Keep the little miss happy. You can't possibly be this stingy."
Li Qingqian, thoroughly humiliated, lowered his head silently and turned to leave.
The shopkeeper was shocked—he'd wasted so much breath, and this person wasn't even willing to spend five white cowries? His temper flared and he yelled at Li Qingqian's retreating back, ignoring all the eyes around him. "For fuck's sake, are you kidding me? You want to pick up women without spending a single cent? You think you're that much of a catch?! If you don't have money, then don't wander around out here! Getting in the way of this old man's business! Pah!"
Li Qingqian's face burned like it had been scorched by fire. He forged ahead amid astonished stares and scurried away with his head bowed. He soon left the city and the onlookers behind, but his neck still felt like it had been broken, as though he'd never again have the strength to lift it. He stumbled all the way to the roadside pavilion on the outskirts of the city and sat down, burying his face in his hands.
He sat without moving for many hours. By the time he returned to the thatched hut, it was already dusk. Hong Shao was lying on her side in her sickbed, facing the door. Her slumber was fitful, her cheeks flushed with fever. As soon as she heard Li Qingqian return, her round, kittenish eyes flew open to gaze at him. She mustered her strength and called as loud as she could, "Dage..."