Médecine traditionnelle chinoise

Chapitre 66

Qi Han frowned and leaped forward to attack.

Han Qing moved nimbly, dodging every move with a narrow escape, but it was precisely these narrow escapes that made her opponent even more impatient.

Qi Han's martial arts were chaotic and unorthodox, and he had always won by using unconventional techniques. But at this moment, the person in front of him was so calm that it made him panic.

Every time Han Qing deflected his attack, Han Qing's heart tightened a little more. What worried him even more was that Han Qing had not yet shown any intention of using the Nether Thunder Palm.

His mind went blank, and his movements slowed down by a fraction. In that instant of distraction, his wrist was seized, rendering him immobile.

“Young Master Qi, your martial arts are not weak, but you are still lacking in skill to defeat me,” Han Qing said calmly. “The Nine Emperor Divine Artifacts are extremely dangerous objects. It is best to entrust them to our sect for safekeeping.”

"Hmph!" Qi Han kicked Han Qing in the chest, breaking free from his restraints, and said, "Ridiculous! Since you know that the Nine Emperors' Divine Artifacts are extremely ominous, you should also know that my Qi family destroyed them long ago. There are no more Nine Emperors' Divine Artifacts in this world!"

Han Qing glanced at him, "My master's astrological predictions are never wrong."

"I'll make him wrong!" Qi Han had barely finished speaking when he drew a long whip from his waist. With a powerful swing, the whip revealed itself to be made of countless sharp blades. The blades grazed the rocks on the street, shattering them into pieces that scattered in all directions.

Han Qing frowned, drew his sword, and charged into the midst of the whip's shadow. In an instant, sword light flashed everywhere, and the whip's wind was fierce and terrifying.

Qi Han's attacks were fierce, but whip techniques differed from swordsmanship; without years of rigorous training, one simply couldn't wield such a bladed whip. Han Qing appeared defenseless, but aside from a torn hem of his clothing, he was unharmed. Within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, a smile began to appear on Han Qing's face. He sidestepped the whip's strike, then raised his hand, pressing his sword against the whip's edge. In an instant, the whip rebounded, striking directly at Qi Han. Qi Han hastily dodged, but was still cut by the sharp whip and fell to the ground.

Han Qing sheathed his sword and said to his men, "Take him back."

"Yes." The subordinate paused slightly and asked, "And this woman?"

Han Qing looked up and saw Yan Ji standing to one side. From beginning to end, she had never left, but simply stood quietly to the side, watching the battle unfold. Her expression was gentle and calm, without the slightest fear or panic, as if she were just a willow tree, a flower, and everything that was happening had nothing to do with her.

Han Qing walked up to her and asked, "Why didn't you run away?"

Yan Ji pursed her lips and smiled, fearless and innocent.

Seeing her smile, Qi Han unconsciously clenched his teeth. He didn't want to know how many men's hearts fluttered at that moment. But that instant of carelessness was enough for him to retaliate. He abruptly stood up, unleashing all the gleaming silver light from his arms. This haphazard attack caught everyone off guard. Qi Han leaped over Han Qing, pulled Yan Ji up, and leaped away.

When Han Qing dodged the silver light and regained his composure, the two people had already disappeared.

Han Qing glanced at his wounded disciples, sighed softly, and chuckled, "...A beauty..."

...

June weather is unpredictable. Around noon, dark clouds gathered and thunder roared. A strong wind, carrying moisture, turned into a torrential downpour.

Five miles outside the city, there is a City God Temple. Legend has it that it grants all prayers and is usually bustling with worshippers. But at this moment, it has become a good place to take shelter from the rain. Pedestrians gather in twos and threes in the temple, chatting and seeking shelter from the rain.

In a corner of the temple, a man and a woman sat. The man seemed exhausted, leaning against the wall, half asleep. The woman, with disheveled hair and a face covered in mud, looked utterly wretched.

At that time, how could the people sheltering from the rain in the temple have imagined that one of them was the world-renowned Qi family blacksmith, and the other was the most beautiful woman among all beauties?

Although Qi Han's injuries were not fatal, the bleeding was incessant, the pain had almost numbed her, and her consciousness was beginning to blur.

Yan Ji raised her hand, intending to stop his bleeding. Qi Han, however, showed no appreciation and roughly brushed her hand away.

Yan Ji looked somewhat surprised, but her eyes still held a smile.

"Besides laughing, what else can you do?" Qi Han lowered her voice, her tone full of dissatisfaction.

Yanji thought for a moment and said, "This servant can also sing, play the zither, and write poetry and paint..."

"Serving men?" Qi Han asked bluntly.

Yanji looked at him without saying a word.

"As long as you have money, you can go with whomever you want, right?" Qi Han's tone was extremely contemptuous.

Yanji smiled and said, "Now that you have bought me, I am yours."

Qi Han laughed too, "What if I'm dead?"

Yan Ji couldn't answer and lowered her head to think.

He waited for her answer. He waited for her to look up and tell him the answer, but in the end, he couldn't bear the pain and fell into a deep sleep.

...

When he woke up, the sounds of thunder and torrential rain still filled his ears. Tiny raindrops fell on his forehead, bringing him back to his senses.

He then realized he was lying on dry grass, covered with his discarded clothes. He got up and found that his wounds were all bandaged and he was fine. He looked around; he was still in the City God Temple. But now it was completely dark, and all the pedestrians who had taken shelter from the rain had left. He was the only one left in the vast temple.

The roof tiles were slightly leaking, and the cold rain fell on his shoulders, sending a chill down his spine.

"You're awake?"

At that time, he never expected to hear that voice. The gentle and soothing tone seemed to seep into his very bones.

Yanji, carrying firewood, walked to his side and squatted down.

"You lie down first, I'll start the fire," she said with a smile.

Qi Han didn't do as she said. He sat and watched her struggle to start a fire with flint. The thunder and rain were pouring down, making flint difficult to strike. She tried for a long time, until her fingers were red and raw, before she finally produced a single spark. And the damp firewood was no easy ignition. It took quite some time before wisps of smoke rose.

Yan Ji choked on the smoke and coughed a few times, noticing Qi Han's gaze. She looked up and smiled somewhat awkwardly, "My skills are lacking, please forgive my clumsiness."

Qi Han gently raised his hand to wipe the dirt from her face. His voice was slightly hoarse, "Why aren't you leaving?"

Yanji looked at him, smiled, and said in a calm tone, "I am yours."

He couldn't think, nor did he want to. At that moment, there was only one thing he wanted to do: he reached out, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her lips without saying a word.

She opened her eyes wide, and struggled for a moment. But then, she obediently closed her eyes and responded to him cautiously.

At first, it was just tentative touching, clumsy licking. That arrogant boy, with his disdainful gaze, actually possessed such naive innocence. She couldn't help but smile, gently biting his lower lip. That slight tingling sensation was like the most provocative incitement.

And that incitement sparked a frenzied resurgence. It was impossible to contain, impossible to control.

The deafening thunder of the night, the warmth of the raindrops on my skin, the suppressed yet intense breathing... years later, they are still etched into my bones, indelible...

...

Beauty is like a knife [Chinese]

Extra——

After that night, Qi Han realized that even if she got it, it wouldn't lessen the turmoil in her heart in the slightest.

Yan Ji, on the other hand, was calm and gentle, like soft water. She had said that she belonged to him, so she walked quietly behind him. No matter how fast or slow his pace was, as long as he turned around, he would see her stop and smile gently.

Yet, that tenderness tore at his thoughts, leaving him unable to find peace. How much weight could tenderness, exchanged for a knife, truly hold? He still clearly remembered that before he pulled out that knife, she was wearing a bright red wedding dress, smiling at another man…

He himself was unaware that his mind was completely occupied by these thoughts until someone blocked his way, bringing him back to his senses.

The newcomers were two men, both around thirty years old, with dark skin and strong physiques.

“Master…” a man said respectfully.

Qi Han raised her eyes and said, "I understand. I'll go back with you."

He turned to look at Yan Ji, "You don't need to follow me anymore."

Yan Ji was startled, and the smile on her face vanished.

Qi Han smiled, raising an eyebrow slightly, and said, "You've seen it yourself, I'm being hunted down by the Shenxiao Sect. Aren't you afraid of being implicated if you follow me? Besides, according to the rules of my Qi Clan, all disciples must live in seclusion in the mountains, hiding their identities. If you follow me, you'll never see this wonderful world again... Now that you've gained your freedom, shouldn't you be grateful to me?"

Yanji stepped forward and gently tugged at his sleeve. "I am already yours. If I have done anything wrong, I will correct it. Please don't send me away, I beg you..."

As Yan Ji spoke, tears welled up in her eyes.

Qi Han lowered her head, her voice tinged with amusement, "Why bother? With your looks, are you afraid you won't be able to marry a good man?"

Her fingertips were slightly white, and her voice was full of sorrow, "...I have only ever loved one person in this life..."

Upon hearing this, Qi Han fell silent. After a long while, he spoke, saying, "Follow me if you want, it's none of my business."

After he finished speaking, he turned and left.

Yan Ji's cheeks were already soaked with tears, but she followed him without hesitation, walking behind him.

...

The disciples of the Qi family all lived in seclusion in a valley. The valley was surrounded by lush vegetation, and the path into the valley was hidden, making it a place that ordinary people could not reach.

The Qi family members in the valley lived independently, like a village. They smelted iron and cast weapons, producing everything from farm tools to weapons. On the fifteenth of each month, they would take their castings out of the valley to sell. Among the members, only the Qi family, as the head of the household, could have the character "Qi" on their weapons.

Deep in the valley, there is a pavilion, which is the residence of the Qi family head.

Yan Ji, new to the place, remained cautious. Qi Han led her to the rooftop. He reached out and pushed open the door to the rooftop room.

The things in the room left Yanji stunned.

That was an entire room full of wealth: the tables and chairs were filled with chests and boxes of gold and silver; a dozen corals as tall as a person were covered with agate and turquoise; blocks of crystal were piled up haphazardly, and pearls and jade were scattered all over the floor, like pebbles...

Qi Han glanced at Yan Ji and smiled with a hint of disdain. He stepped into the room, kicking aside pearls and jade in his path as he went. He walked to the table, rummaged through the jewelry, and took out two or three white jade hairpins. Then, he walked up to Yan Ji and handed her the hairpins.

Yanji looked at the jade hairpins, somewhat puzzled.

“Don’t you like this kind of thing? Take it.” Qi Han said, “If you get tired of white jade, there are also agate and pearls here…” After he finished speaking, he stuffed the jade hairpin into Yan Ji’s hand, and then left her alone in the room and left by himself.

Yan Ji lowered her head and looked at the three hairpins in her hand. She chose a jade hairpin, put the remaining two back on the table, and then used the hairpins to tie up her dark hair. She turned and went out, but when she reached the door, she turned back and looked at the room full of jewels.

She smiled quietly, then left without looking back.

...

Life in the valley is isolated from the world. Although the seasons change, time seems to pass in a confusing way.

Life, too, remained unchanged. He and she, though living in the guise of husband and wife, never formally consummated their marriage, nor were they given any official status. The Qi family members in the valley knew his character well, and they all knew that this most beautiful woman in the world had been obtained with a knife. What he gained was mostly just a fleeting whim, and its ending was always the same.

As the head of the Qi family, he only chose to forge one sword each year on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month. Afterward, he would leave, returning to the valley a month later with what he had obtained in exchange for the sword. Each time, what he obtained was different: martial arts manuals, jewels and antiques, rare and exotic animals… However, after only a few days, he would abandon those treasures in his rooftop room and never look at them again.

As time passed, his indifference grew stronger. Conversely, her gentleness remained unchanged. Whether it was his coldness or his indifference, she accepted it with a smile and followed him obediently. That tenderness could move anyone, yet it seemed unable to touch him. Even after she bore him a daughter, it did nothing to shorten the distance between them. His indifference was obvious to everyone. Gradually, some began to sigh, some began to feel sorry for her, and some even thought that she had loved the wrong person and given her tenderness to the wrong person.

Such rumors gradually spread from the valley to the whole world.

Soon after, everyone in the world knew that Yan Ji was a pitiful, weak woman whose happiness was taken away by a knife, and who had fallen in love with the heartless man who had taken away her happiness...

He scoffed at these rumors.

...

In the winter of the eleventh year of Shaoxing, there was heavy snow.

He warmed a pot of wine, leaned against the couch, and looked at the snow scene outside the window.

Snowflakes danced in the air, and the valley was filled with the fragrance of winter plum blossoms. She stood in the plum grove, holding an umbrella. Her five-year-old daughter, holding her hand, clumsily picked plum blossoms from the low branches. He held his wine glass, forgetting to drink…

Her smile was as breathtaking as when he first saw her. Yet he remained unsure whether to be captivated by her tenderness or to stand firm in his pride and stay grounded.