Chapter 4 Murong Qiushui

After the big man finished speaking, he waved his hand and disappeared from under Li Guanyi's watchful eyes.

He looked around, unable to detect any trace, so he nodded and called out loudly, "Then I'll come over at midnight."

Only the hollow echo remained, confirming that even if the big man was still here, he wouldn't show himself.

After circling around the outside, Li Guanyi returned home.

Their home in Guan Yi City was actually a small courtyard with some age to it. Li Guanyi slowed his steps, lit a fire with the well-split kindling, and started to wash rice for cooking.

Curling smoke rose, and the scent of rice gradually filled the air. After the rice was cooked, he stir-fried a couple of vegetarian dishes. Today marked the time of the month when they ate meat, so he stewed an old hen for his family and steamed some egg custard.

There was no need for Li Guanyi to call out. With a creak, the wooden door opened, and a pale-faced but spirited and lively woman leaned on the door as she came out.

Li Guanyi's aunt.

She was his closest relative who had taken care of him for the first eight years over the past decade.

Two years ago, her old injuries and illnesses flared up, and she collapsed. Back then, the ten-year-old Li Guanyi, relying on some basic mathematics knowledge left from his past life, did accounting for others to earn some petty cash. After a day's work, he came back to cook, all because of his aunt's care during the previous eight years.

Human hearts are made of flesh; the hardships endured over those eight years earned him these two years of meticulous care.

Li Guanyi still remembered the first time his poison flared up, causing him agony that darkened the sky and earth.

When pain reached such an extent, like an epileptic patient, he had to be careful not to bite his tongue during intense pain. A child's senses are more acute. Back when he was only three or four years old, he could feel the fine down on petals with the skin of his palms and smell the fragrance of spring flowers in the wind, so the pain knocked him unconscious.

It felt like plunging into a bottomless abyss, like stepping into nothingness in a dream, falling endlessly.

Groggily, he felt someone holding his palm, warm liquid flowing into his mouth, like a scalding river of fire, slowly pressing down the bone-chilling pain. Then Li Guanyi fell into a deep drowsy sleep.

When he awoke, the wind rustled through the treetops, and Beichen hung high in the azure sky, stark and cold. He was lying on his aunt's lap, and when he lifted his head, he saw the woman's warm gaze and her wrist bleeding from bite marks, and he tasted the rusty blood in his mouth.

At that time, his aunt, riding a galloping horse with him, found him ill and rolling off the horse onto the grass. Heartbroken for him and reluctant to use cloth, she simply stuffed her wrist into Li Guanyi's mouth. During the intense pain, he bit down with all his might, creating a large wound. Fortunately, it didn't hit an artery. The warmth in the midst of the agonizing pain was his aunt's blood.

When he lifted his head then, he saw the stars hanging behind the beautiful woman; she was smiling gently, asking if he was feeling better. Starlight and moonlight shone through the treetops onto her face, the dappled light and shadows flickering. Despite the injury on her wrist, she still smiled, caressing the child's forehead, singing the lullaby mothers from East Continent would sing to their children at bedtime.

That night, Li Guanyi slept very well.

Those were memories of the past. Now, the twelve-year-old Li Guanyi served a bowl of soup for the pale-faced woman. He carefully set it down and passed her a pair of chopsticks.

The woman with the gentle brow smiled as she sipped the soup:

"Li Nu'er's cooking is truly delicious, far surpassing my own culinary skills," Aunt said.

Li Guanyi raised an eyebrow.

Li Nu'er was Li Guanyi's childhood nickname. Many children from official and aristocratic families have 'nu' tagged onto their milk names. This isn't any sort of insult; for instance, Wang Xianzhi was known as 'Guan Nu' in his youth, and Liu Yu of the previous Southern Dynasty bore the nickname 'Ji Nu'. But 'Li Nu'er' carried an even more affectionate tone.

'Li Nu'er' means a raccoon, or more specifically, a tabby cat. Calling him so was akin to elder family members addressing him as 'kitty' in his childhood. Li Guanyi once seriously asserted that he was no longer a child, and such a nickname should not be used, but instead, this only led to his Aunt teasingly calling him 'Li Nu'er' with an endearing tone for three whole days.

He had long realized that beneath her seemingly gentle exterior, his Aunt possessed a much tougher character.

After years of living together, Li Guanyi had learned how to deal with his Aunt—simply bow his head, let his chopsticks whirl, and devour his meal without comment, which rather disappointed the woman. Fortunately, the food he cooked was indeed quite good.

Though it couldn't compete with the elaborate dishes of skilled chefs.

The wood-fired stove burned brightly, the pot was sufficiently hot, and with the hen pecking at vegetables in the morning and today's dewy greens from the village outside the city, the meals he prepared were definitely good. They provided a hearty satisfaction. After a satisfying meal, Li Guanyi cleaned up the leftovers.

Aunt's health had been deteriorating, and recently Li Guanyi had forbidden her from doing such chores.

After tidying up these everyday tasks, Li Guanyi, like always, took down a zither from the narrow wooden cabin wall and began to play under the woman's guidance. The zither sound was melodious, at times high-spirited and stirring, showing significant mastery.

When Aunt noticed how mature and thoughtful Li Guanyi was despite his young age, she began to teach him how to play the zither.

The four arts of the Chinese scholars: zither, Go, calligraphy, and painting.

Even during the years when they wandered from place to place, he never ceased his practice.

She admitted to not being skilled in martial arts, but said her music was quite good. Li Guanyi learned quickly, achieving a considerable competence. In the future, he could live off his musical skills. And if push came to shove, he, being handsome and well-versed in the arts, could maintain a sense of dignity even if relying on others for support.

Li Guanyi insisted he was talking about supporting both of them, making Aunt laugh, then she playfully messed up his hair with her hand.

This zither was something his Aunt always carried with her. It had a straight body with a clear sound, though the tip was charred black, as if it had been rescued from a fire.

While playing the zither, Aunt held a scroll of book, sitting quietly in a chair, her eyes nearly closed, and her wide sleeves hanging down, revealing a pale but slender wrist. She seemed to be enveloped in her robes, appearing especially frail. Suddenly hearing a wrong note, she lazily opened her eyes and tapped the top of the young man's head with the scroll, saying:

"You played the wrong note, Li Nu'er."

"What's the matter, are you preoccupied?"

Li Guanyi's mind, of course, was slightly disturbed because of the reappearance of the Cloud Pattern and because the bronze tripod was about to be filled, opening up the possibility of curing the deadly poison in his body. But a momentary lapse let Aunt perceive his distraction. He couldn't disclose the poisoning or his adventurous deeds. As he hesitated, Aunt began to smile.

She smiled, her amber-colored eyes examining the youth as she tapped Li Guanyi's hem with the scroll, then let it fall to tap on his knee, saying, "The thing you dislike the most is washing clothes. You always walk around dirt patches, fearing that mud will splatter on you."

"Someone's causing trouble at the medicine shop?"

Aunt leaned back in her chair, resting her cheek on one hand:

"Huichun Hall has some connections with the government office and has hired three martial artists who've reached the peak of Body Refining."

"There are very few who could cause trouble in Huichun Hall, and even fewer who could make you lose your composure. Let me guess, you came across our enemies, those guys?"

Li Guan opened his mouth and sighed helplessly. The woman had been protecting him and ensuring their safety while they dodged and hid for over ten years. Her mind was meticulous, and his current cautious nature was entirely learned from being influenced by her over these years. He said:

"I knew I couldn't hide it from you."

Then he repeated the events, omitting the bronze tripod. The woman pondered for a moment, then said softly:

"The Red Dragon Dharma Form... training in martial arts at night, if it's him, it's possible."

"As for those Cloud Pattern Riders."

"We've been here for two years already, and we'll be leaving in a few months. It's better to avoid making more trouble. In the future, Guan Yi, you should steer clear of them."

"If you happen to run into them due to bad luck, don't harbor resentment in your heart. It's no harm to endure it a bit."

"The old saying always goes, spare others when you can, and you shall find ease by stepping back. Especially at your young age, don't compete and argue with others when you're away from home..."

The woman's voice was gentle and soft, and her words of advice always reminded Li Guan of his mother from his past life. Every time he set out on a long trip, his mother would advise him in the same way—to avoid confrontation if possible. The young man's expression softened and grew dim.

Suddenly, a piece of silver was pressed into his left hand.

Then, a slight chill appeared. He looked up and saw Aunt holding a short sword in a simple scabbard. Li Guan was taken aback for a moment, but Aunt had already drawn the sword, revealing a blade about the length of a forearm, emitting a faint, hazy light.

Aunt smiled gently and with a swift motion, the short sword chopped down. The wooden table was silently cut at one corner, and then she sliced diagonally, and the old iron pot was silently cut into a ring that fell to the ground.

The sword was covered with forging patterns resembling clouds, with two secret inscriptions on each side.

Aunt had taught him about these inscriptions.

On one side, the name "Murong" was inscribed, and on the other side were two characters: "Qiushui."

It was the sword's name.

It was also Aunt's name.

This name always reminded Li Guan of the illustrious Murong Family from Jiangnan's Eighteen States, lands that the Chen Country had lost twelve years ago and towards which they had been cautiously moving closer on this long and hidden journey.

Murong Qiushui placed the short sword in the young man's right hand and said softly:

"A man must not lack foresight. If a problem can be solved with silver, then use silver, and it's no disgrace to seek a truce."

"A man must not lack fierceness either. If they still refuse to let it go, then use the sword."

Li Guan responded instinctively, "Aunt, didn't you say that old saying, 'Enduring a little brings ease, avoiding conflict opens the sky wide, and less trouble is better than more'?"

He saw his beautiful Aunt smile gently, her finger tapping his forehead, as she said:

"My silly Li Nu'er, but you know, the old saying also goes..."

Her voice paused, her eyebrows raised high, and her face immediately brightened with spirit:

"To hell with that!"

.........

Midnight.

Yue Qianfeng sat inside the Mountain God Temple, biting on a chicken leg bone, and waited in meditation.

He had kept his promise and was waiting here for the child, ready to impart a superior skill from the Military School lineage, as long as the boy showed up.

But would the child come?

Suddenly, his ears twitched.

Yue Qianfeng's eyes abruptly opened.

Someone was coming.

It was an enemy!

Outside, someone's voice kept low, commanded sharply:

"Fire the arrows!!!"