Chapter 63- The nights before

A thunderstorm tore the night sky of departing spring and nascent summer, moon and stars fleeing before its assault.

Glacial rain poured down to Earth, washing away the fragrant days of the fourth month1.

The tavern's age-old roof was leaking and only a small lamp illuminated the room. A man wearing red was niggling its flame with his finger, an austere expression on his face.

It was Sun Ding.

Suddenly, the flame flickered as a faint breeze blew in from the window. Sun Ding narrowed his eyes; he looked up at the Scorpion who climbed in from outside, bringing news.

The black-clad Scorpion fished out a strip of paper from his breast and handed it over. Sun Ding took the message, scanned through it, and set it afire on the lamp. A bloodthirsty smile crept across his lips, making the crimson mark on his face appear all the more terrifying. He rolled down his sleeve and raised his hand to reveal his palm which had turned purple. With it, he clawed at the air as if he were catching something invisible, tearing it to pieces and rubbing his fingers together when he was done.

The Scorpion reacted like he had received an order; turning back, he leaped out of the window. The two hadn't exchanged a single word, seemingly having acted out a soundless pantomime. Sun Ding tossed his head back, a pleased expression coming over his features.

"Xue Fang... you are showing yourself at long last," he whispered.

He pulled the long coat that gave him the silhouette of a bat tighter around himself and headed out with a demented smile on his face.

Xue Fang, a.k.a. the Hanged-Devil, and he had been clashing for eight long years. How many lots of eight years could a mortal hope get in life? No. It was time for Windcliff Mountain to have its master replaced; time for him to get rid of Xue Fang and seize the Crystal Armour.

Afterward, Sun Ding firmly believed, there would be no one left to stop him.

No one to hold him back from leaving that forsaken place. Nobody to prevent him from purging all the clans and

their hypocritical morals — Was there ever such a thing as orthodoxy and heresy on this earth? There wasn't. Might be made right was all.

And now Xue Fang had shown his tail, he was sitting duck for him to net in one fell swoop.

At the same moment, in an unassuming alley nestled within the depths of Luoyang's red-light district, the Scorpion Boss clad in black fiddled with a handful of Go stones. He sorted the black and white pebbles apart before mixing them up again, a knowing smirk emerging on his lips.

Zhou Zishu and his clique remained at the same inn to wait for Lord Seventh and the Great Shaman. During the dreamlike months they had spent at the Marionettes' Manor, living outside of time and shirking all duties, the situation within the Central Plains' wulin had finally deteriorated from threatening implosion at the merest nudge, to a state of uncontrollable chaos where reversals occurred within a single breath.

The alliance of the Five Clans had collapsed long ago, its glory of yore buried three feet under the yellow dirt. Gao Chong and Zhao Jing had been the only two relics of that era's greatness. But when Gao Chong colluded with the Hanged-Devil, to eliminate his last obstacle by the name of Zhao Jing, Gao Chong's machinations were exposed at last. It threw the entire wulin into an uproar.

In an instant, everything had become clear.

Who else could have known with such uncanny sagacity the whereabouts of each Armour fragment? Known the weaknesses in each of their masters' defenses so well, they could steal the fragments from the Zhao Estate? And then played the Council of Heroes so masterfully afterward, that Shen Shen handed over his fragment amidst universal applause; only to take on the role of surveillant general so he could embezzle everything later on?

... Besides Gao Chong, who else could have achieved all of that?

The crowd of people who'd been fooled into running in circles came to their senses at last. And as realization hit, the whole gamut of emotions boiled over while words failed to articulate consideration.

Gao Chong died roaring with laughter as if he had gone mad. Xue Fang, the Hanged-Devil, had been wounded and had escaped. Zhao Jing too had been gravely injured, and the Crystal Armour had gone missing.

Words subsequently spread about a secret meeting between Huashan's Grandmaster, Yu Qiufeng, and Gao Chong, that took place on the eve of their departure for the Shen Estate. Yu Tianjie, the son of Yu Qiufeng, had fled the Zhao Estate on the night the Armour was stolen there, and everyone had been convinced the Hanged-Devil had murdered him. But the recovered corpse had been a decapitated one that had lacked a head. So, thinking back upon it, people could no longer ascertain to whom the cadaver had truly belonged.

Indeed, after the facts, the subterfuge therein seemed evident.

Deng Kuan was dead. Gao Xiaolian had disappeared. And, as if it had been planned all along, everyone at the Gao Estate had scampered, while Yu Qiufeng too had gone missing.

Worst of all, Armour's five fragments seemed to have fallen into the hands of the Devils. The Armoury which had been sealed thirty years ago was about to be re-opened, and the evil of the Hermeneutics of the Six Combinations was to see the light of day again.

The darkest of hours were upon the Central Plains' wulin.

On the seventh night of their stay at the inn, sometime past midnight, and after his daily allotment of pain, Zhou Zishu couldn't find sleep. Hugging onto a wine pot and with a chipped bowl in his hand, he settled on the rooftop to down-swig after a swig.

Gu Xiang sat in the small courtyard, looking up toward the sky with eyes adrift. She had her back to Zhou Zishu and wasn't skilled enough to detect the man's presence a level above.

The girl wasn't being rowdy for once. She sat quietly with her chin resting in her palm, her long and slender legs sprawled out. In her free hand, she held a blade of grass with which she fiddled. At that moment, the melancholy picture she painted was rather reminiscent of the line "Tonight's stars aren't those of yesterday's bright; for whom

do they shine in lonely blight "2.

Wen Kexing pushed open the door and walked out. He looked at Gu Xiang's silhouette and let out a wistful sigh. It

seemed to mean, "My daughter from a child to a woman has grown."3 He ambled into the courtyard and peeked up at Zhou Zishu before he sat down beside Gu Xiang.

Gu Xiang threw him a glance.

"Master," she said in a listless voice.

Wen Kexing smiled. The faint curl of his lips didn't look crooked for once. In fact, it seemed rather tender.

"What's this? Did you and Gifted Scholar Cao have a spat? Did he rankle you?"

As dejectedly as before, Gu Xiang replied, "He wouldn't dare. Yo Mama'd chop his dong off."

Wen Kexing examined his own conscience. The girl was a rather normal one, with no detectable birth defects. One nose, two eyes. Where did he err in her education for her to turn out like this?

He yawned, patted Gu Xiang's head with no regard for propriety, and said, "What is it, then? Why are you sitting outside by yourself in the dead of night, instead of getting some shut-eye? Is it spring or autumn you are mooning after?"

Gu Xiang threw him a mopish glance and propped her other hand under her chin. She didn't speak.

Wen Kexing let out a small sigh and swatted at her head.

"I wondered why you've been running about all around with that fool Cao Weining, you know? Doing good deeds too... Say, are you afraid the grandpas over at the Qingfeng-Sword School won't allow him to be with you? Is that it?"

Gu Xiang dropped her eyes. Looking rather like the toddler version of herself, she puffed out her cheeks and bit her lip. Still not piping up, she scratched at a brick on the ground with her index finger.

She wasn't afraid to be judged on her kung-fu. Nor did she fear competition in the looks department. But she dreaded having the matter of her background brought up.

Even if she were unmatched in skills or one of those legendary beauties who could bring about the downfall of kings, it still wouldn't beat the fact she had no pedigree to speak of. Who'd believe her if she told them she was a good girl?

People didn't even consider the folk of Windcliff Mountain to be humans. Could a good girl come from such a place? That madman Valley Master had picked her up from the street when she was still a baby and had raised her ever since. Without a dad or a mom, all she had known growing up was people killing people, or people getting killed. Could she even be a good girl?

Gu Xiang was at an utter loss. She was used to having whatever she desired, whether by hook and by crook or by acting coy and bullish. Even though she knew she had faults, that she'd lose her temper occasionally... dawning on her for the first time was the realization that she was a woman who couldn't see the light of day.

The ugliest bride could meet her parents-in-law. But her? She was the Purple Fury, she wouldn't dare. Gu Xiang brooded for quite a while longer before she squeezed out a smile at last.

"Yeah, yours is definitely better," she said. "The guy's all by his lonesome and could feed his whole family by stuffing food down his own throat. No relatives to worry about that way. No auntie once removed, no uncle twice... Ouch!"

Something had hit her on the head. She looked up at Zhou Zishu who was staring her down from above with a slight curl on his lips. The chipped bowl in his hand had disappeared.

The blow hurt. Gu Xiang clutched at her skull and turned to Wen Kexing.

"Aren't you gonna rein him in!" she exclaimed.

Zhou Zishu flew down from the roof. He patted Wen Kexing on the shoulder, and said, "Go on. Go warm the bed for your Lord4."

Wen Kexing thereupon gave a slavish, "Right on," and left without another word.

Gu Xiang gaped. She sucked in a deep breath and thought either the world had turned upside down, or she was having a nightmare.

Zhou Zishu plopped onto the ground and sighed.

"What are you worrying over nothing for? Do you see me getting worked up? I thought I still had about a year and a half to live, but now it looks like I won't make it that far. It's as the Great Shaman said, my meridians can't weather my neigong anymore... Turns out my kung-fu has become a curse; I could kick the bucket any day and be on my merry way to see King Yang."

Gu Xiang stared at him, wide-eyed. She didn't know what to say.

"Well," she uttered in a small voice quite a while later. "You're really a miserable one, aren't you?"

Zhou Zishu had expected nothing agreeable to the ear from the foul-mouthed girl. Still, he couldn't refrain from chuckling.

"Your mother," he said, shaking his head. "Gu Xiang, if you weren't a little girl, I'd punch you to a pulp eight times a day."

Gu Xiang nudged her buttocks away from Zhou Zishu while eyeing him warily. But the man didn't show signs of raising his hand for real — he only kept imbibing his wine. She let go of her breath and, after thinking it over some more, she found a hidden trove of mercy and offered him comfort:

"Lord Seventh said the Great Shaman may have a way. You never know, maybe it can save your life."

Zhou Zishu drank up and held the sip in his mouth. He savored the wine, looking like he was loath to swallow it down.

"I doubt it," he said after a long pause.

Gu Xiang blinked. Her brows knitted as if there was something she didn't understand. Another long silence elapsed before she poked Zhou Zishu with the point of her shoe.

"Are you suicidal?" she asked.

Zhou Zishu threw her a glance.

"You're suicidal."

"If you aren't, back then, why didn't you..." Zhou Zishu laughed.

As she watched the man slowly and soundlessly guffaw his ass off, Gu Xiang felt her pulse quicken for reasons she couldn't have named. She hurried to avert her eyes, reflecting that beautiful women were said to be calamities waiting to happen, but good-looking men were likewise so.

"There are only two paths for me," Zhou Zishu said. "Either I live an acceptable life, or I die an acceptable death. To achieve either of those goals — even if I can make sacrifices for a time — no one will hold me back in the end."

Used to a life of scheming, he still could be caring. But when the occasion wasn't one for softness, his heart also could be as hard as a rock. Indeed, if he could be ruthless toward others, he could also be ruthless toward himself. All his life he had been a man of his own mind, and if he wanted something, he wouldn't suffer compromise. Even if it meant paying price onlookers may find too high, he wouldn't turn back, wouldn't regret it.

My head thrown back, I laugh at the heavens as I leave home. How could I endure a lifetime as a common man? 5

Zhou Zishu held Gu Xiang's gaze.

"Girl, only you have a say in who you are," he said in a soft voice. "What other people say about you doesn't matter. You look clever enough. How come you don't understand such a basic principle?"6

Struck by his words, Gu Xiang looked stunned. Zhou Zishu emptied the jar of wine and carelessly tossed it aside. Turning around, he headed back toward his room.

He had just pushed the door open when a hand reached out from the darkness. It wound itself tightly around his waist as the door slammed shut. Zhou Zishu didn't resist. He let himself be thrown onto the bed. As he lifted his gaze slowly, he met Wen Kexing's eyes.

Silence stretched. Wen Kexing then suddenly lowered his head, to kiss Zhou Zishu's lips, tearing at his mouth with his teeth like he were a beast attacking prey. His breath was ragged. It sounded dangerous in a way that was hard to describe. He went at it for quite a while before Zhou Zishu pushed him away.

Zhou Zishu raised his elbow and knocked Wen Kexing in the ribs, flipping them over to trap the other man underneath. With both hands splayed on either side of Wen Kexing's bust, Zhou Zishu's disheveled hair cascaded down from his temples onto Wen Kexing's chest. In the dark, his eyes were startlingly bright.

"Won't it be a bad bargain for you if I die?" he asked.

Wen Kexing didn't respond. All of a sudden, he twisted his head and bit down into Zhou Zishu's arm. He gnawed so hard, it was as if he were trying to drink the other man's blood and eat his flesh.

Zhou Zishu frowned from the pain but didn't dodge. He let the guy maw him in silence. Blood soon flowed out; it followed the contours of Wen Kexing's mouth and dripped onto the beddings, drenching a large patch in a blink.

Time elapsed, unaccounted for, before Zhou Zishu's arm quivered. Wen Kexing closed his eyes at last. He unclenched his teeth and licked at the wound he had inflicted. Then, he sat up and pulled the other man into his embrace. As he sealed Zhou Zishu's acupoint to stop the bleeding he said:

"It would. I've never struck a worse bargain in my entire life." Zhou Zishu laughed without making a sound.

"Nutcase," he said.

The nutcase tore a strip of fabric from his own inner robe and bandaged Zhou Zishu's arm. When it was done, he lifted the bedcover and rolled them both underneath. They fell asleep wrapped around each other amidst the pungent scent of blood.

Three days later, Lord Seventh and the Great Shaman finally arrived.

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1. ("the fragrant and luxuriant days of the fourth month") by Bai Juyi. Describes the passing of spring.

2. From a poem by Huang Jing Ren. About doomed love.

3. Another poem from Bai Juyi, titled The Song of Everlasting Regrets. Describes Consort Yang

becoming a beautiful woman.

4. ZZS calls himself (grandpa/lord/boss) which is something like "Daddy" but less explicitly

sexual.

5. by Li Bai. About the poet's high spirit as he leaves home for the capital with the hope of obtaining great honors.