That beautiful youth was not dead--after all, Zhang Chengling had never harmed someone before. Although his execution was ruthless, he had hesitated for a moment, and left but a very long and deep gash on his opponent, which blood was gurgling out of.
The Scorpion looked at Zhang Chengling. Bizarrely, he laughed, and murmured, "There are just some people with such great luck in this world. Good child, your potential is immeasurable."
He bent, leaning down to observe the beautiful youth on the ground. Body spasming, the youth looked at the Scorpion, the desire to struggle for life surfacing on his face. The Scorpion grabbed his chin gently, and shook his head. "A pity that the face is marred."
Then, his hand tightened, and the youth's neck crooked at an unnatural angle. He had strangled him dead.
The Scorpion did not even spare his corpse a glance. Nodding to the few of them, he turned and left, bringing his Poisonous Scorpions with him.
Zhang Chengling gripped the bloodied sword in hand and stood alone by himself in the courtyard. He seemed to be shaking all over.
Cao Weining walked over to him cautiously, plucked his own sword from Zhang Chengling's hand, and cleaned it. He glanced at the body of the youth on the ground in lingering apprehensiveness, then patted Zhang Chengling's shoulder and said, "This…we're all rather surprised by this, actually. He doesn't look like a good man to me--what he said might not be true."
He looked up, as though looking for assistance, but saw Gao Xiaolian frozen in shock, Gu Xiang deep in thought, and the other two...clearly as though they long had this outcome in mind.
Cao Weining thought back to Zhou Zishu's reply to Wen Kexing's question, that day when Gao Xiaolian had recounted her encounters. "Almost all those who know what happened have died, leaving only that one person. The victors and the losers are evident."
The victors and the losers...were evident? He could not help a discreet shiver--so they had already figured it out at the time, so they had…
Abruptly, Zhang Chengling raised his head, and said to Zhou Zishu, "Shifu, I remember that person who dressed in all black and forced answers out of my father. Just now, I...I…"
He turned his head, his gaze falling on the youth's body. His throat bobbed, but he trembled even more furiously. He lifted his hand, tiptoed slightly, and said, "He was...about this tall, had very broad shoulders, one of his legs...one of his legs, it wasn't easily spotted, but when he was chasing me, he walked too fast; he had a limp, like him--it's that person, who injured Uncle Li grievously, he...he…"
"Ah," Gu Xiang exclaimed softly, a hand over her mouth. Her already-wide eyes were about to pop out of their sockets, as though she had heard the scariest news in this world.
Wen Kexing took one look at her. Impassively raising a hand that did not have human blood on it, he caressed Zhang Chengling's head, nodded, and said without much emotion, "I know."
He raised his head. His gaze seemed to pierce through the night, looking towards someplace very far away; strangely, a smile surfaced on his face, as though he was a weary traveller who had finally gotten a glimpse of fate's true face after traversing leagues and leagues, over great mountains and across broad rivers. There was a subtle hint of mockery, but more of it was relief and tranquility that could not be put into words.
Gu Xiang lowered her hand slowly, and said in a soft voice, "Master…"
Immediately, Wen Kexing lifted his hand to stop her, and said, "You are a maiden that has been married off--like water that has been thrown out of the door. From now on, this matter has nothing to do with you. Tomorrow, you shall go and find Ye Baiyi, as you are supposed to do. Of course, I won't withhold your dowry. Don't go back there."
Zhang Chengling wanted to be stronger, however he could; he had just decided to stand tall like a real man to protect the people he should be protecting, and exterminate the people he should be exterminating; no matter what he encountered, he would never retreat, and never fear. But it was as if his tears would not stop, landing one drop after another--he found himself cowardly, but also felt as though he had turned back into that weak, helpless child who could not accomplish anything.
Villains had killed his family; he wanted to properly learn martial arts to become stronger, so that he could protect his kin and friends from further harm in the future; or even kill villains, to avenge those who had died.
But that was Uncle Zhao...
He was the person who his own father, before he closed his eyes for good, had tugged at Uncle Li's hand and made Uncle Li promise that he would entrust him to; he was that person who, in that dilapidated temple in the wild that cold night, Uncle Li had gripped shifu tightly and instructed to entrust him to.
He was that person who had stayed by his side day and night in those darkest times. He was that person who, with reddened eyes, proclaimed in front of all the heroes under the sky to aid Zhang Chengling in obtaining justice for his family. He was...
The ways of this world were too arduous, and human nature too complex. If he could not even trust those closest to him, those he found most reliable, what else could make a person entrust themselves to someone entirely?
Wen Kexing sighed faintly. Looking away from the crowd, he turned around and returned to his room. However, Zhou Zishu paused, beckoned at Zhang Chengling and said, "Little tyke, come over here."
Zhang Chengling scrubbed hard at his eyes, but very quickly, his vision blurred again. He knew that Zhou Zishu was most annoyed by his crying, and he choked, "Shi, shifu, I don't mean to cry, I just...I just...I'll be fine in a while…"
Zhou Zishu exhaled. Unlike usual, he did not say anything, but reached out to pull Zhang Chengling into his embrace. Zhou Zishu had only casually draped an outer robe over his inner robe; dressed extremely thinly, his warmth easily seeped out through his clothes. Zhang Chengling buried his face into Zhou Zishu's chest, and in that instant, felt as though he was sheltering against a mountain that would never crumble.
Sworn ties between the great houses were no more than lies and treachery, and yet, strangers who met by chance could survive by leaning on each other.
Cao Weining tugged at Gu Xiang, and they left quietly. Gao Xiaolian took a deep breath, and returned to her room too, deeply troubled. Only the master and disciple were left in the courtyard; through the window, the Great Shaman gazed at them, and couldn't help but ask softly, "Is that...Manor Lord Zhou? Since when was he this…"
Lord Seventh chuckled gently. In a murmur, as a reply or to himself, he said, "Was he not always like this? Back then, he was the same to Jiuxiao. Although he always behaved like a strict father or older brother on the surface, he planned everything and made arrangements for Jiuxiao in secret. A pity, how that person did not appreciate his effort."
The Great Shaman looked back at him. The room was not lit; mostly hidden in the shadows, with only the moonlight illuminating a small quarter of his face, Lord Seventh was ethereally beautiful. He said, "If you say that he is a great humanitarian of good virtue and etiquette, he may not dare to acknowledge it. If you say that he isn't a good person, however...he has done those deeds that the heavens would strike him down for, but not one of them was committed out of selfish desires for his own ends."
Abruptly, he turned around, snatched something up, and walked out, sighing almost imperceptibly.
Lord Seventh strode into the courtyard, and tossed the object in his hand into Zhang Chengling's arms. It was a sword of black iron; Zhang Chengling scrambled to catch it. He froze, dumbfounded, then slowly unsheathed it when Zhou Zishu nodded.
That sword was extraordinarily wide, even twice the width of Cao Weining's. There was no glint to be seen, but it had an ancient, primitive air to it. Shining with a dull light, the blade was mantled with the dense miasma of carnage. When held in the hand, it had a solid, abundant heft, and was about two to three times heavier than an ordinary sword.
There were two words carved along the fuller: Great Famine.
Lord Seventh said, "My subordinates gifted me this to fiddle around with. It is rather magnificent, but I am a poor student--it is useless if I hold on to it. It is cumbersome to wield too, as it is too dense. You can have it."
Zhang Chengling went "ah", his eyes red-rimmed, a little at a loss on what to do.
Lord Seventh said, "A marvellous sword should be given to a hero, even if he will only become a hero in the future. There is no hope for me, who'll be nothing more than a wealthy loafer in this life. Take it, and do your best not to let it down."
Zhou Zishu said seriously, "Our gratitude to Lord Seventh."
Lord Seventh laughed lightly, slanting a gaze at him, and said meaningfully, "Our friendship has lasted some years now--we've fought together, gambled with our lives together. You joke and play around with others like that, but why do you become so serious and boring once you turn to me?
Zhou Zishu paused, taken aback.
Lord Seventh flapped his hand, turned around and walked back to his room, saying, "Zishu, I am no longer the Nanning Lord, and you are no longer Lord Zhou. With your intelligence, have you, astonishingly, not figured it out?"
Zhou Zishu was silent for a moment. Then a smidgen of relief suddenly flashed across his face. Laughing aloud, he said to Lord Seventh, "Of course I do not dare joke around. Lord Seventh has such beautiful features, I'm afraid that my jar of vinegar at home will crack."
Lord Seventh halted in his tracks, but he was not angry. He merely glanced back at him, torn between hilarity and awkwardness, shook his head in resignation, and entered the room.
Zhou Zishu did not sleep for the whole night. He taught Zhang Chengling a set of sword techniques in the courtyard, and the youth watched attentively with swollen eyes. He was still slow to learn; he had to watch a move that any other person would learn by seeing it once demonstrated a few times and ask about every aspect of it until he understood it completely, before they could move on to the next.
Afterwards, he took out brush and paper, and drew every move that Zhou Zishu had taught on the paper. On the side, he noted down the mantra and took messy notes, as though he wished to jot down every word that Zhou Zishu had said.
Zhou Zishu asked, "What are you drawing this for? Won't it do to just practice when you go back?"
Red-faced, Zhang Chengling mumbled, "Shifu, I haven't familiarised myself with the ones you taught me the last time, I...I know I'm stupid, so I set a rule for myself. I have to practice each move ten thousand times, before I start practicing the next one, and I'll revise it every now and then. Every morning, I'll get up early to recite...recite..."
Recalling that Zhou Zishu did not like his constant recitation of the mantras, he halted and spoke no more. Carefully, he lifted his head to peek at Zhou Zishu, and stuck out his tongue sheepishly.
Zhou Zishu looked at him with a complex gaze. Wisdom hidden underneath a fool's skin, quickness concealed within clumsy limbs; unhurried and patient, every step honest and true--the Scorpion had said that Zhang Chengling was lucky, but all of a sudden, he felt that he was the luckier one, who had received the cream of the crop for a student.
So he patted him on the shoulder, and said, "You can leave tomorrow. Do what you can manage, and don't…be undeserving of the sword that Lord Seventh gave you."
The next day, the four of them--Gu Xiang, Cao Weining, Gao Xiaolian, and Zhang Chengling--set off on their journey. They were looking for Ye Baiyi, but at the same time, Cao Weining was worried about Qingfeng Sword Sect. Gao Xiaolian and Zhang Chengling also desired to uncover the truth, and decided to covertly hunt for the tracks of Zhao Jing and the others. Gao Chong had been one of the holders of the Realm's Command; Ye Baiyi would not stand aside when he had run afoul of tragedy, and they might come across him.
Just as he had seen these four most raucous ones off and was planning to return to his room to rest, Zhou Zishu pushed the door open and saw Wen Kexing waiting for him in his room. Wen Kexing was sitting on the windowsill, one leg dangling outside, the other curled up, his fingers interlaced and resting on his knee. Noticing that Zhou Zishu had entered, he lifted his head and smiled.
Then he said, "A-Xu, I'm leaving too."
Zhou Zishu paused, and asked, "Back to Fengya Mountain?"
Wen Kexing nodded. "I've come out to roam for long enough--I've met almost all the people and seen almost all the sights that I've never encountered in my life before. It's time for me to return and finish up my business. A-Xu…"
He seemed as though he had something to say, but did not know where to begin. All he could do was to grab at his own hair, and then blurt, "You… recuperate properly, and you're not allowed to cheat on me. I'll go look for you on Changming Mountain, if…"
Zhou Zishu took out his flask, swung it in his hand, and poured himself a cup of wine. He did not look at him, and did nothing more than interrupt, "Got it. Get lost, and don't die."
Wen Kexing smiled soundlessly, and left him two words: "Take care". The next moment, he was no longer there, leaving an empty windowsill cooled by the breeze, as though there had never been a person sitting there in the first place.
Zhou Zishu downed the cup of wine in one go.