Schatzkammer von Jianghu

Kapitel 57

Cheng Xiang slowly approached, glanced at Leng Shuangcheng, and whispered, "Zhao Linghui is my sister, the princess to whom Father decreed a marriage alliance with Qiuye. At the beginning of the year, Qiuye declined the marriage, which enraged Father..."

Leng Shuangcheng remained silent, staring at the flowers.

Cheng Xiang then hesitated before saying, "Don't you think she looks a bit like you?"

Leng Shuangcheng suddenly chuckled: "How did you come to this... The princess is as beautiful as a fairy from the heavens, while I am as coarse and incomparable as bamboo in the courtyard. How can we be compared?"

“Looking closely, Linghui is just as generous as you,” Cheng Xiang sighed softly. “But the fact that you can still laugh right now tells me that no one can be more ruthless than you…”

Leng Shuangcheng pursed her lips and revealed a well-proportioned smile: "Your Highness is joking again... If Young Master Qiuye doesn't survive, am I supposed to wear mourning clothes and cry all the time?"

Leng Shuangcheng's smile was perfectly balanced, neither arrogant nor sorrowful, like the beauty of Xi Shi—any more or less would be inappropriate. Cheng Xiang, looking at her enigmatic smile, shook her head in astonishment: "Qiu Ye usually schemes and plots against everyone, how could he have expected to run into such a strange person as you? He's completely screwed this time..."

Leng Shuangcheng turned her face and smiled slightly: "You flatter me."

Cheng Xiang remained silent for a while, then suddenly smiled brightly: "If this place weren't so awkward, I would have burst into laughter long ago... It's true that one thing can subdue another!"

The two women calmly talked back and forth in the corner. Finally, the heavily concealed door of the pavilion was opened, and an elderly man in official robes with white hair and beard stepped out. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a snow-white brocade handkerchief and muttered to himself, "That was close, that was close."

The fortune teller rushed forward: "Imperial Physician Wang, how is the young master?"

The old imperial physician was startled to see Linghui standing before him. He first bowed, then rose and, panting, replied, "The young master was well cared for earlier, and his life is not in danger. However, his injuries are too severe. To fully cure him, the Medicine King must come out of seclusion..."

The fortune teller was taken aback: "Where can we find a master like the Medicine King in such a short time?"

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yingcheng moved and slowly walked over. After thinking for a moment, the imperial physician Wang said, "If we want to save the prince, there is another possibility, which is the medical wonder technique that has been lost for two hundred years—the Plum Blossom Needle."

"The imperial physicians are the foremost in the medical field; surely even you cannot save him?"

Physician Wang sighed and shook his head. Everyone remained silent, exchanging bewildered glances. Yin Guang, who had been at the very back, glanced at Leng Shuangcheng, walked over, and bowed deeply to her: "Please, Chu Yi, think of a way to save my young master."

In the silence, Yin Guang's words were like a thunderclap, stirring up a tidal wave. Everyone turned to look at the corner, only to find Leng Shuangcheng, in her white-collar shirt and blue robe, standing straight beside the lush flowers and trees, as graceful as bamboo and as slender as a writing brush.

Leng Shuangcheng slowly moved out of the room and stood in the middle of the corridor. He clasped his hands together and said calmly, "I'm willing to take action, but I need an assistant."

With her clear, cold eyes, tightly pursed lips, and composed posture, Leng Shuangcheng presented herself to everyone with the same unwavering calm. Having moved from the shadows into the light, Leng Shuangcheng, who had been beneath the glazed tiles, suddenly became the center of attention. Sunlight gently caressed her handsome face, causing Cheng Xiang beside her to squint slightly: "So you're also the successor of the Plum Blossom Needle Technique..."

Cheng Xiang's words expressed the astonishment and doubt of everyone present. They were already familiar with Chu Yi's legendary martial arts and experiences, but they never expected that she would surprise them again today—the Plum Blossom Needle, which had been lost for two hundred years, had reappeared in the martial arts world.

Leng Shuangcheng crossed his hands and calmly spoke, his voice unhurried and deliberate:

"I am the third-generation successor of the Plum Blossom Divine Needle technique, but due to my constitution being cold and weak, I made a mistake by drinking alcohol a few days ago. The strong alcohol caused an imbalance of hot and cold in my body, and I am afraid that the needling will be inappropriate. Therefore, I need to ask a master of medicine to perform acupuncture on my behalf. The only one who can take on this important task is the only disciple of the Medicine King, the only master of medicine - Lonely Triumph."

The crowd erupted in commotion again, and the fortune teller, who was standing at a distance, was the first to respond: "To try and find Young Master Lonely at this time is simply absurd!"

Zhao Yingcheng, who had been silent all along, spoke up: "Alright, I'll go and invite Young Master Gudu."

Leng Shuangcheng smiled slightly and stepped back to her original position.

Cheng Xiang was astonished. She first glared fiercely at Zhao Yingcheng's back, then looked back at Leng Shuangcheng as if she remembered something: "So that's why you were so calm just now. It turns out you had already made up your mind."

Leng Shuangcheng gave a bitter smile: "You're really wrong this time. I was so frustrated that I couldn't find Young Master Lonely anywhere, so I tried mentioning it to these people who have spies everywhere..."

Cheng Xiang snorted and said, "Oh? How come you figured it out on the first try?"

“I’ve always felt this was suspicious. At that time, only you, the two princes, and Young Master Gudu knew each other in Wuzhou. Who would go to the ancient well to wait for the young master to appear? That’s why I tried my luck…” Leng Shuangcheng just smiled cautiously.

Cheng Xiang gave a cold laugh and said, "Leng Shuangcheng, you are really heartless. Qiu Ye is still lying inside, her life hanging in the balance, and you have the leisure to joke around."

Leng Shuangcheng replied solemnly, "Life and death are determined by fate. This is the ending chosen by Young Master Qiuye, and no one can be blamed."

Cheng Xiang stared at him for a long time, then finally chuckled and said, "So he's angry and wants to take this opportunity to get back at him..." Thinking that she would soon be able to see Gu Dukai again, she felt a mix of emotions and fell silent.

Leng Shuangcheng didn't argue, but smiled wryly, whether out of embarrassment at having her thoughts guessed or mocking Cheng Xiang's self-righteous cleverness.

Cheng Xiang remained silent for a moment, then couldn't help but ask curiously, "I feel something's not right. You always try to fool people. Tell me the truth, if it weren't for Loneliness... Triumph, would you be confident in reviving Qiu Ye?"

"To be honest, if we hadn't taken advantage of this opportunity, Young Master Lonely probably wouldn't have been able to appear," Leng Shuangcheng whispered to Cheng Xiang. "As for acupuncture, anyone with a little medical skill can do it."

"You're so cunning..." Cheng Xiang glared at her fiercely, "Don't give me that lazy smile again, or I'll skin you alive!" Turning her head, she exclaimed, "Girl, what are you doing standing here?"

Linghui had somehow walked over to the flowers and trees and waited patiently for the two to finish speaking before smiling and saying, "Linghui would like to ask Chuyi to speak to her in private."

"What's meant to come will come," Leng Shuangcheng muttered to himself, following Zhao Linghui.

Linghui led Leng Shuangcheng along the winding corridor. Leng Shuangcheng remained calm and walked without making a sound.

The courtyard was deep and verdant, with pavilions and towers shrouded in mist amidst the swirling willow catkins, gradually blurring the viewer's vision. Linghui pushed open the door to the Ye family's study, where the sunlight was dim and the air was filled with the cool fragrance of ink and paper.

Zhao Linghui stood for a moment, looking at the light, and carefully recalling the lingering shadows left on her in the room.

“This is where I first met the Crown Prince. He was writing with his brush, and only glanced at me coldly at the last stroke.” Linghui smiled slightly, her hand resting on the desk as she slowly moved. “I love him, not because of his appearance, but because of the calligraphy he wrote… No man’s handwriting is as magnificent and unwavering as his… I often hear my sister tell me stories from the outside world. Although I was born into the royal family, I am very curious about the martial arts world. I have heard a lot about the Crown Prince’s methods of maneuvering and strategizing, which has strengthened my resolve to marry him, because only someone like him can stand shoulder to shoulder with Father and rule the country together.”

Leng Shuangcheng remained standing calmly below the steps, her hands clasped together, silent. Her thin jaw and stiff collarbone made her lips appear somewhat indifferent.

Linghui looked at her and smiled, saying, "The Ye family's spies actually told me everything a long time ago. I know that the Crown Prince even disregarded his father's feelings for you and tried his best to cover up the crime of the ancient well leaking secrets... Now the Crown Prince's situation is very awkward. When I left the palace, my father was drafting the imperial decree for the second marriage. If he disobeys my father's decree again, my father will be furious because he has been rejected many times and will definitely start to reduce his power. In this way, the Crown Prince's future is worrying."

Leng Shuangcheng stood motionless, her eyes lowered. Zhao Linghui, unfamiliar with Leng Shuangcheng's habits, glanced at her profile, which betrayed no emotion, and continued readily, "The Crown Prince came to me after the morning court session on the tenth, threatening to extinguish my and my father's desire for a forced marriage. I was heartbroken at the time and blurted out, 'It's not that I'm stopping you, but can the Bixie sect, led by Steward Wu, accept her?' This thought was later confirmed when Steward Wu visited. After hearing this, he smiled coldly, 'Wu Suanzi, is that it? I want him to be the first to kowtow to Leng Shuangcheng and admit his mistake.' That was the first time I heard him call your name, and I still remember his chilling smile."

“Miss Leng is so clever, she must have noticed Steward Wu’s hostility towards you. Of the four great manors of Bixie, Leng Qi was implicated and died because of you, and Bai Li had her knees crippled by the Crown Prince for offending you…” Linghui paused, noticing that Leng Shuangcheng, who had remained unmoved, had swayed slightly. “Mr. Dongge risked his life to save you, enduring excruciating pain from the transformation of his cold poison. This shows that Bixie, having lost its talent, has only the Steward left. Steward Wu is a trusted minister entrusted with the care of the previous lord. If he doesn’t acknowledge you, the world will laugh at His Highness, bringing shame upon both of you…”

Leng Shuangcheng's face was ashen, but she couldn't help but think of the past—when she first emerged from the evil spirits, she wanted to escape, but fate sent her to the Northern Frontier; Mr. Dongge and Steward Wu each took sides for her sake, and this grievance did not disappear even after Mr. Dongge died; most importantly, she remembered the matter that Xiao Qiao had entrusted to her.

Seeing that Leng Shuangcheng had remained silent from beginning to end, Linghui suddenly raised her head and said a single word after what seemed like a moment of contemplation: "Okay."

Linghui was extremely surprised. Anyone with common sense would have understood that she was trying to stop Leng Shuangcheng and help her own marriage, but Leng Shuangcheng hadn't expected her to agree so readily without batting an eye. Linghui asked in astonishment, "Did Miss Leng understand what I meant?"

Leng Shuangcheng faced her and said, "People of the martial world act according to their nature. I have never been able to make choices since birth, but this time I have made a bold choice. I am willing to leave this place of trouble and do what I want to do. This fulfills the wishes of many people, so why not?"

Seeing her speak so confidently, Linghui became somewhat flustered and asked in return, "Miss Leng, do you not like... the young master, and do you not want to stay by his side?"

Leng Shuangcheng smiled slightly, "To be honest, Young Master Qiuye's unusual accommodation of me has truly moved me. But in return, I cannot jeopardize his future, especially since I have more important matters to attend to..."

After saying that, he bowed and left the study without looking back.

Looking at Fang Junxiu's back, Zhao Linghui sighed inwardly: "Aside from his somewhat forced smile, he is quite composed and generous."

The grand and elegant bedroom was airtight, with a white magnolia lampshade casting a shimmering glow on everything. Behind the gauze curtains lay the silent Qiu Ye Yi Jian, while Leng Shuang Cheng stood motionless against the ebony table.

One or two steady footsteps came from outside the door, still unhurried and unperturbed.

Lonely Triumph calmly pushed open the door, appearing before Leng Shuangcheng once again after a year's absence, completely unexpectedly. His face was thin as bamboo, yet it couldn't diminish his handsome and refined features. Bathed in the dim candlelight, his face resembled a translucent piece of jade. He silently glanced at him, his bright eyes settling on Leng Shuangcheng, who stood facing the wall, and remained motionless: "To see you again is so difficult."

Leng Shuangcheng moved and slowly prostrated himself: "Chu Yi has already learned that it was Zhao Yingcheng who placed the young master under house arrest, and is terrified, suspecting that it was Chu Yi who implicated the young master..."

Hearing her choked voice, Gu Du Kaixuan shifted slightly and coughed lightly, "It has nothing to do with you. It was Young Master Zhao who invited me to the Prince's residence to search for someone. He did not make things difficult for me."

Leng Shuangcheng felt somewhat relieved after hearing this.

Lonely Triumph said again, "Chu Yi, after so long, you still like to perform this empty ceremony... Get up. Cheng Xiang has already told me some things. As long as it can get you out of here, I will do whatever you ask."

Leng Shuangcheng silently stood up, turned his back to the two people in the room for a moment, and then asked in a steady voice, "Young Master, may we begin?"

How do you begin by facing the wall?

Leng Shuangcheng smiled silently: "Young master, you don't know this, I cannot turn my back to look at Prince Qiuye behind me."

"Why?" Lonely Triumph emphasized.

“I dare not look at him, I am afraid he will blame me… Please do not ask any further questions, sir.”

Lonely Triumph sighed, "Outsiders may not see it, but I know you couldn't escape it in the end; you were truly moved." After saying this, he sighed again, as if this sigh was for regretting his belated opportunity.

Leng Shuangcheng remained silent for a moment before speaking, "Please listen carefully, young master. I will teach you the Plum Blossom Acupuncture method: First, apply needles to the left Zhangmen point, right Zhangmen point, left Shangqu point, right Shangqu point, Shuifen point, Guanyuan point, Zhongji point, and the important Dantian point on the upper body, in that order, without reversing..."

Lonely Triumph's breathing grew labored, echoing faintly in the secret chamber. Hearing this, Leng Shuangcheng gritted her teeth, suppressing the urge to turn and check on him. Only after the pale Qiu Yeyi's body was covered in silver needles did Lonely Triumph, utterly exhausted and drenched in sweat, walk to Leng Shuangcheng's side. Leng Shuangcheng's expression hardened, and she reached out to support his limp body: "Young Master, are you alright?"

Lonely Triumph glanced at her face and said calmly, "After leaving the Ye residence, I have some questions for you."

The pale blue sky, leisurely clouds, verdant bamboo, and intricately arranged flowers and the babbling brook in the Ye family manor were no different from usual. Leng Shuangcheng felt somewhat lost as she walked, and she didn't know how much time had passed before she realized that someone was following her, with slow and heavy footsteps. As for who he was and what he was doing following her, her thoughts were completely captivated by Qiu Ye's strange behavior, and she had no interest in asking any other questions.

"Miss Leng." The deep, resonant male voice came last.

There are only two people who can call her "Cold Girl," two people from the same social class, who often carry the confidence and determination to control the life and death of others.

Leng Shuangcheng turned her face away and silently looked into the deep eyes of the fortune teller.

Those should have been sharp, cold eyes. Long ago, under the boundless green pine, Leng Shuangcheng had explored the secrets hidden in the dark mist of the pine trees. But at this moment, it was as if a flame had suddenly burst in those eyes, and the fiery heat instantly turned into a cold, extinguished grayness.

The fortune teller knelt heavily before Leng Shuangcheng.

Leng Shuangcheng was terrified, her face turned pale, and she suddenly leaped out of the corridor.

"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Leng." The fortune teller spoke calmly, shifting his knees to face the direction where Leng Shuangcheng was standing: "Miss Leng is wise and understanding. I have failed you, young master, and I should accept your bow."

"Since I've agreed to leave, I won't drag things out. What else is the steward worried about?" Leng Shuangcheng said coldly with his back to the fortune teller.

"Please, young lady, see this through to the end. You must agree to one favor from Wu Suan."

“I knew you guys had this inquisitive nature, just like that unreasonable Qiu Yeyijian. Go ahead and tell me, I’m all ears.” Leng Shuangcheng suddenly turned around and coldly faced the fortune teller.

The fortune teller was taken aback, because he saw that Leng Shuangcheng's face was expressionless, and because he heard her call the young master by his name. He also had no idea that Leng Shuangcheng had a skill: she could suppress all her emotions and never reveal them unless absolutely necessary. Moreover, when she was on the verge of rage, she would remember to first immerse her anger in the depths of her heart before showing a cold laugh or rudeness.

"To sever your will to live, after today I will send you back to Yangzhou and force the entire Prince's residence and all those who practice exorcism to participate in a plan—to hypnotize you and keep all your secrets from you. By the time you wake up, you will already be married to Princess Linghui. The wedding ceremony will be a done deal, and it will be too late for you to back out..."

Leng Shuangcheng looked up at the sky, its vastness and boundless expanse filling the air. Staring at the leisurely white clouds, a phrase came to mind: "What is held in the heart will never be forgotten. Promise me you will remember it."

She suddenly understood the details she had never grasped before.

Long ago, Qiu Ye never called for her to serve him during his morning sword practice, and she took note of this. On the day of the drinking party, she overheard An Jie mentioning the daylily she had mistakenly ingested in her past life, and out of curiosity, she went to investigate. Unexpectedly, Qiu Ye caught her pondering it. Embarrassed, she hastily made up an excuse to try and cover it up, but later, from Qiu Ye personally taking her deep into the bamboo forest and consulting the Ye family's medical records, it became clear that he was trying to hint that what he practiced was a palm technique. Unfortunately, she was too oblivious to notice anything amiss. Furthermore, he knew the secret of the daylily, yet he didn't provide an antidote, constantly reminding her not to forget—why was that?

“I will keep it in my heart forever, how could I ever forget it?” Leng Shuangcheng murmured to himself, deep in thought.

The fortune teller kept staring at her with an unpredictable expression. She looked into his eyes and then remembered Qiu Ye's feigned intimacy in the hall. Finally, she couldn't help but smile and say, "Steward Wu, please don't fall for your young master's tricks."

"Why do you say that, young lady?"

Leng Shuangcheng's gloom vanished, and she chuckled, "I'm not entirely sure either, but I won't tell you."

The fortune teller's face was a mixture of red and white as he glared at Leng Shuangcheng with some annoyance. Leng Shuangcheng's bright eyes, like autumn water, like cold stars, like precious jade, like two black goldfish in a porcelain fishbowl, turned left and right as she pondered to herself.

"Miss Leng, please promise me that for the sake of the young master's future, you will try your best to avoid meeting him. As long as you don't appear, the young master will never think of you..."

“Steward Wu.” Leng Shuangcheng shook hands and slowly walked over. “I have very important matters to attend to and will not linger here with you. I will only say one thing: Man proposes, God disposes. I will do my best to fulfill your wish.”

The fortune teller, beaming with joy, bowed to Leng Shuangcheng once more: "Thank you for your kindness, young lady."

Leng Shuangcheng smiled and responded without dodging his bow: "I will take Wu Sanshou with me before I leave. Please find my sword, Moonlight, in return."