Thinking of this, Mo Xi couldn't help but recall a line of poetry: "How can we express our gratitude? With beautiful jade adorning silk ribbons."
Before she could move, Tang Huan had already grasped her hands tightly and whispered, "I'm afraid I'll never see you willingly tie this ribbon in this lifetime, so I can only do it without your consent. I don't ask you to wear it forever, I only ask that you don't take it off in front of me." As she spoke, she took out another identical five-colored ribbon from her bosom, with a jade pendant of the same material attached to it. However, the entire jade pendant was carved into a blooming peony, with the character "熙" (Xi) engraved in the center of the flower. Next to it was also written a line of words—"Holding your hand, we grow old together."
He continued softly, "I know that a bond of marriage is hard to force, but I only ask that you not refuse to accept these two ribbons. I will wait until the day you are willing to tie another one for me yourself."
Mo Xi's fingers gently traced the character "欢" (huan, meaning joy) on the jade pendant at her waist. "欢" and "熙" together mean "joy." For a long, long time, she couldn't bring herself to ask, "What if that day never comes?" Instead, she softly asked, "Do you really feel happy being with me?" Seeing Tang Huan nod without hesitation, she gazed into his eyes and said, "Someone like me can't help you at all; I'll only be a burden."
Before she could finish speaking, Tang Huan said, "I know what kind of person you are. But I have already sworn that I will be with you through thick and thin for the rest of my life." After a pause, he added, "You only need to ask your own heart if you are willing to grow old with me."
Mo Xi was shocked. So that's why he carved those two sentences separately. He was willing to exchange a vow of life and death for her promise of growing old together.
After a long silence, Mo Xi said, slowly and deliberately, "Three years ago, someone also promised me a lifetime together. I once thought he could accompany me through every dawn and dusk of my life. But I never imagined that this very hand would take his life. I was only thirteen years old then, and he was only seventeen." She paused, staring at her right hand, and asked coldly, "Aren't you afraid?"
It wasn't until Tang Huan wiped away her tears that Mo Xi belatedly realized she was already in tears. But her expression remained cold.
Tang Huan finally couldn't resist and pulled her into his arms. The girl before him cried silently, her tears so restrained and suppressed. Slowly, his arms tightened, feeling each tear fall directly into his heart. With each drop, his heart clenched, the tears eventually forming a river within him, rushing over him, making him lose his mind and senses. Driven only by instinct, he slowly drew closer, using his lips to taste the tears.
Endless bitterness and sweetness mingled on the lips, the sourness gradually washed away, and finally a tranquil and unforgettable feeling slowly settled.
Mo Xi had thought that all the tears she would shed in her life had been shed on that starless, moonless night when Gu An was buried. The desolation that had accumulated in her heart over the years, washed away by tears, seemed to have turned into a quagmire. Only a voice in her heart said: This time, it's better to be trapped…
Suddenly, she acted like a child, dodging his lips and burying her face in his chest, nuzzling him a few times before whispering in his ear, "You've taken advantage of me so much, I won't hold it against you for ruining a piece of your clothing." As soon as she finished speaking, she saw Tang Huan's ears gradually turn red, just as she had hoped. Having just vented her emotions, she now felt relaxed, and seeing Tang Huan's reaction filled her with joy. However, she had suppressed her feelings for so long that even her genuine happiness was only expressed through a smile. Tang Huan saw her raise her head, her eyes not cloudy but brightened by her tears, a mischievous smile playing on her lips—she looked both playful and adorable, inspiring boundless tenderness. His right arm encircled her waist, pulling her closer, while his left hand gently stroked her hair and her brows, whispering, "From now on, my body and heart belong to you, let alone a piece of clothing."
As she spoke, she embraced Mo Xi and slowly sat down.
"Did you carve those two jade pendants?"
"yes."
"Did you weave those two ribbons yourself?"
"Um."
"I never knew you were so talented. You can not only carve, but also do needlework."
"..."
Amidst a vibrant sea of flowers, the two figures leaned against each other.
At that moment, they all forgot that the peony is also known as "Jiang Li" (meaning "about to leave").
The author has something to say: Han Fanqin's "Poem of Betrothal" says: "How can we express our love? With beautiful jade adorning silk ribbons."
Bloodshed and carnage
( ) Dusk. The official road near the outskirts of Jinling City.
Mo Xi lay in ambush behind a small hill beside the official road, letting the vast spring rain, like layers of invisible fine nets, slowly envelop her in boundless dampness, quietly pondering the unusual nature of this mission.
Five days ago, she returned to Jinling from Sichuan. Just two days later, she received the organization's top emergency summons, tasked with a mandatory mission. This was almost unprecedented in her career. Previously, Mo Xi felt the organization respected individual wishes in allowing its employees freedom to choose missions, a unique aspect of its corporate culture. However, despite the urgency of this mission, Mo Xi only received the specific time, location, and details of the target's appearance—a robbery—on the day of the operation. The exact nature of the goods being protected was not revealed, indicating the mission was top secret.
The team tasked with this mission was divided into two groups. The first group would strike first to distract the enemy's镖师 (bodyguards/escorts). The second group would wait for an opportunity to rob the enemy's goods. Mo Xi was assigned to the first group.
She arrived at the designated location an hour early to survey the terrain and find a hiding place to ambush others, only to discover that she was likely not alone in having such a group of people, some of whom might even be colleagues. Fortunately, everyone acted independently, and things remained peaceful.
As the last rays of the setting sun faded, a muffled clattering sound gradually reached Mo Xi's ears from the end of the official road. Because of the dense spring rain, no dust was stirred up, making it difficult to judge the number of people approaching.
Only newbies mistakenly believe that nighttime is the best time to act. In fact, experienced people are often more alert and vigilant at night than during the day. Dusk is different. At the turn of day and night, people are naturally relaxed due to the fatigue of the day, and coupled with dinner time, they are often hungry and physically exhausted.
Soon, a cavalry unit came into Mo Xi's view. Looking as far as the eye could see, there were at least two hundred people. As they drew closer, Mo Xi realized that they were advancing rapidly in a square formation, a style completely unlike that of ordinary镖师 (bodyguards/escorts) in the martial arts world!
There are three ways to escort goods in the martial arts world: the majestic escort, the benevolent escort, and the stolen escort. The majestic escort involves attaching a large banner to the luggage, displaying the escort's name, and parading it through the streets. Because the banner has wheels, the banner can move. When escorting goods, the banner is pulled to the top, and a long mallet is struck, producing a loud "clang! clang!" sound. The escorts either shout their commands loudly or simply announce their escort agency's name, thus displaying their power. The benevolent escort involves lowering the banner to half-mast and striking the Thirteen Protectors' long mallet gong, the Five-Star Gong, or the Seven-Star Gong. The stolen escort, on the other hand, involves someone who knows beforehand that they cannot pass a certain checkpoint due to insufficient strength. They quietly remove the horse bells, oil the wheels, hide the banner, and sneak past.
The group before them not only had their horses' hooves wrapped in cloth, but all the escorts were riding renowned steeds from beyond the Great Wall—the "Black Cloud Horses," renowned for their unparalleled prowess. In the center of the caravan were eight gray-clothed carriages, each drawn by four tall, powerful horses. At first glance, the carriages appeared unremarkable, but the most crucial element—the wheels—were made of the sturdiest ironwood, crafted with exquisite skill. Ironwood is three times harder than ordinary wood and twice as hard as ordinary steel, resulting in exceptionally robust wheels. However, this type of wood is only found on the border between the Southern Dynasty and the Chiyan Kingdom, and in extremely limited quantities.
The carriage sped by, leaving deep ruts in the ground, indicating that the cargo inside must have been heavy.
Soon, the convoy entered the hilly area where Mo Xi was lying in ambush, and people quickly emerged from the surrounding area. Mo Xi remained still, observing the situation.
Suddenly, sixteen iron caltrops rose from the ground, hovering about three inches in the air. In an instant, the front of the caravan was thrown into chaos, with men and horses stumbling and falling. The barbs on the caltrops caught the horses' legs, tearing flesh and blood apart, and the horses neighed and cried out in agony.
Mo Xi discovered that these riders were incredibly skilled at horsemanship; even when some horses were injured, they were quickly brought to a stop and calmed down.
Due to this unexpected turn of events, the entire caravan came to an abrupt halt. The majority of the horses at the rear, unaffected by the barbed wire, calmly reined in their galloping hooves, seemingly unaffected by their companions' cries of distress. Even those few horses that reared up in fright remained firmly on their backs, legs tucked tightly to the flanks, hands gripping the reins, their expressions composed and unperturbed, suggesting they were accustomed to such unexpected situations.
Seeing this, Mo Xi frowned deeply. The other side was so well-trained; they couldn't possibly be any ordinary镖队 (bodyguard/escort team) in the martial arts world!
This mission was undoubtedly extremely risky. But she had no way out. The organization's mission order stipulated that when reporting back, she must present the life tag on the recipient's wrist.
At this moment, a fierce battle had already broken out on the field. Judging from the knights' martial arts skills, they seemed to be only average; the dozen or so men who had charged down earlier had all killed their opponents with a single, swift stroke of their blades. Then, they even severed the wrists of the knights, collecting the bamboo tokens they had gathered and stuffing them into their pockets. These nineteen men on the field were undoubtedly her colleagues! Among them was a rather familiar figure.
But the more this is the case, the stranger it seems. Judging from the other party's momentum, this must be a big deal. Yet the organization has arranged for the same group of people to act independently like a disorganized mess. Is it really because time is too tight? But if that's the case, why was the caltrop mechanism so cleverly placed?
In an instant, Mo Xi moved. She charged straight into the formation. When she did strike, it was swift as a whirlwind sweeping away fallen leaves. She used both hands simultaneously: her left hand delivered a sword to the throat, while her right hand slashed at the wrist with a dagger. Her movements, though incredibly fast, possessed a subtle, composed rhythm, and her attacks were both swift and precise, showing no hesitation whatsoever. After darting through the enemy lines for a while, a large number of knights had fallen. Once the area was cleared, she swiftly gathered up all the red silk threads binding the life tokens within her sight and tucked them into her robes.
In less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Mo Xi's black outfit was stained with deep blood, and the stench of blood was like maggots clinging to bones.
These twenty individuals each displayed their unique skills, reaping the life tokens with unstoppable force. A chilling atmosphere pervaded the air. Blood droplets scattered, mingling with the falling spring rain, and in the sweltering heat of the setting sun, the air became unbearably sticky. Even the movements of the twenty individuals seemed to be hindered by this viscous, sticky atmosphere, slowing them down slightly.
Mo Xi made her way slowly towards the carriage. Just as she was about to lift the blood-stained gray curtain to investigate, suddenly, a sword shot straight at her from behind the curtain. The person inside the carriage drew their sword, but their speed and power were far inferior to Mo Xi's. However, that sword was truly extraordinary. Its blade was frosty, like the dawn of a twilight. Its body was as black as ink, imbued with the rich purity of heaven and earth. In stillness, it was as chilling as winter; in motion, it was even more nimble than a serpent, its aura flowing like spring. Mo Xi dared not be careless and almost instinctively drew Cheng Ying from her bosom to parry.
The two swords clashed, but there was no sound of metal striking stone; instead, they clashed directly with their sword energies. Mo Xi was startled. A sword that could ignite Cheng Ying's sword intent upon first contact must be an unparalleled masterpiece.
The value of a peerless sword lies not in its sharpness, but in the sword energy it contains—the sword's very soul. Some swordsmiths in the martial arts world even believe that a legendary sword possesses a will independent of its wielder, and they dedicate their lives to forging such a sword.
After three moves, Mo Xi finally saw the person in the car wearing a black robe.
Since she came into this world, no moment had shocked her more than this. It was a face that haunted her dreams, a face she would never forget. From the corners of her eyes to the tips of her brows, everything was incredibly familiar, only the features had matured. But the emotions conveyed in those eyes were completely foreign to her; the warmth and tenderness of the past had been replaced by a cold, intelligent glint. As if struck by that chilling aura, Mo Xi's movements involuntarily slowed.
At the same time, more than a dozen experts surrounded her, but the person inside the carriage stopped making a move. The carriage curtain fell, and Mo Xi almost thought that the glance she had just received was a figment of her imagination and delusion, built from countless dreams.