Gibberish, gurgle, lover, lover, in heat, in heat, gurgle...
Amidst Ye Laoqi's incessant chatter, Hua Chongyang gradually closed his eyes and began to drift off into a daze.
But when she opened her eyes, the person was no longer in the brothel.
The scene before her was all too familiar: the empty garden after Banlian was drunk, with a thin layer of snow, and large red lanterns hanging under the long corridor, at varying heights. She was sitting in the lakeside pavilion, leaning against the railing, with the frozen lake covered with a thin layer of snow in front of her, desolate and empty.
Hua Chongyang looked up blankly, but felt a weakness in her neck; she tried to move her hands and feet, but couldn't move them at all! She panicked and struggled to turn her neck to look around. Just as she turned her gaze, she saw Zu Xian, wrapped in a heavy white fox fur, walk into the pavilion from under the corridor, holding a cup of wine in his hand, and sit down next to her.
At least someone's here. She breathed a sigh of relief and laboriously begged him for help:
"Zu Xian, I can't move."
"Perhaps the poison from the needle you were given that day has taken effect," Zu Xian put down his wine cup, glanced at her, "I didn't expect you to be poisoned so quickly."
"Then what should I do? Do you have any antidote?" Hua Chongyang asked, then suddenly remembered the important point, "Right, wasn't I just in a brothel? How did I end up here?"
"How should I know why you're here?" Zu Xian glared at her with an irritating expression. "It's not like I begged you to come."
Thinking of Ye Qinghua's ruthless nature, Hua Chongyang felt a headache coming on, frowned, and softened his tone:
"Say whatever you want, but get me some antidote as soon as possible, or I'm dead tonight."
If she doesn't show up at the Heroes' Banquet on time, Ye Qinghua will either kill her or take half her life.
The amazing Grandpa Zu Xian still maintained a frosty expression, as if it were none of his business:
"You're dead, what does that have to do with me?"
"you--"
Hua Chongyang only regretted that she couldn't move, couldn't jump up and kill that Zu fellow with a single palm strike... Why did Heaven create such a calamity? And why did it have to happen to her?!
But Zu Xian stood up and walked closer, standing beside her, his usually low and husky voice suddenly becoming gentle:
"It's not impossible for me to help you. But you have to agree to one condition."
"……What?"
Under the bright red lanterns, the dim, crimson candlelight shone; the soft fur of the snow-white fox fur brushed against the back of her hand. Zu Xian slowly bent down, bringing his face closer to hers, his deep black eyes fixed on hers, his thin lips slightly curved:
"If you let me kiss you, I'll help you detoxify."
Whether from shock or infatuation, Hua Chongyang was speechless for a moment. His voice was so gentle, a low voice, as gentle as water flowing quietly beneath the surface of a frozen lake, and the warm breath from his mouth and nose brushed against her cheek, just like the feeling of the fur of a fox fur touching the back of her hand.
Slowly, she almost closed her eyes.
Zu Xian drew closer and closer, until his fluttering eyelashes almost touched her nose… But then, a sentence Ye Qinghua had told her long ago suddenly flashed through her mind:
"...The legendary healer Zu Xian, he must be at least forty or fifty years old, right?"
She suddenly straightened her back and forced out a sound from her throat:
"...No! Don't!"
...Then, she stared wide-eyed at Ye Laoqi, who sat before her, dumbfounded, his hands clutching his chest as he stared at her for a long time before slowly uttering a question:
"What’s wrong with you?"
Hua Chongyang sat there in a daze for a moment before gradually coming back to her senses. The surroundings were brightly lit by candlelight. She was sitting in front of the dressing table in Ye Qinghua's room in the brothel, her elaborate attire and hair ornaments reflected in the mirror. Everything was fine, except that her hands and feet were a little numb from being pressed down… so it had just been a dream.
She slowly let out a sigh of relief.
Ye Laoqi, who was standing to the side, was clearly frightened. Only now did he recover and ask:
"What's wrong, Chongyang? Did you have a nightmare?"
"……no."
Would dreaming that someone wanted to kiss her be considered a nightmare? Hua Chongyang thought to herself, a slight grin creeping onto her face. If Ye Qinghua knew, she'd probably just scoff and say, "Even if it's a nightmare, it's the nightmare of the person who wanted to kiss you!"
"If it wasn't a nightmare, why were you yelling 'No, no!'?" Old Ye's nagging habit kicked in again. He raised an eyebrow and smiled as he got up to pour tea. "Was it a wet dream?"
……illusion?
Fortunately, Ye Laoqi didn't see it.
Hua Chongyang reached out to touch his flushed cheeks, trying to figure out how to hide his embarrassed expression, when another loud "bang" rang out. At the same time, the door was kicked open, and Ye Qinghua's furious roar erupted from behind him:
"Old Master Ye, hurry up! We're on Phoenix Terrace in a quarter of an hour!"
A gust of wind swept away the clouds, creating a chaotic scene resembling a dogfight or a scene of utter disarray...
A quarter of an hour later, Hua Chongyang stood under the Phoenix Tower with a thin veil covering his face.
The early spring wind was still chilly, making her exposed neck feel cold. The large red lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, illuminating her long robe trailing gracefully over the wooden steps. She carefully lifted her skirt with both hands as she stepped, the pearl pendant from her purple-gold phoenix-wing hairpin swaying gently with each step. The three-tiered staircase was rather long, and as she neared the Phoenix Terrace, a slightly distracted Hua Chongyang stumbled and swayed. Fortunately, she didn't fall, and since no one saw her, she didn't embarrass herself. She steadied herself somewhat awkwardly, straightened her skirt, and stepped onto the Phoenix Terrace.
Strangely and unexpectedly, a conversation from many years ago resurfaced in Hua Chongyang's mind:
"Chongyang, do you want to come with me to learn martial arts, or go home with that lady over there?"
"I want to practice martial arts with you."
What do you want to achieve by practicing martial arts?
The little flower Chongyang remained silent and did not answer.
And that voice, gentle and coaxing, lured her:
"You're so young and already so beautiful. Wouldn't it be better to go home with that lady, grow up peacefully, get married, have children, and live a smooth life? If you practice martial arts, you'll eventually have to wander the martial world anyway. What's the point of that?"
She remained silent and did not answer.
From a young age, she wasn't exactly a talkative child.
Finally, Abbot Deyun of Shaolin Temple sighed and raised the razor he used for shaving heads:
"Since you won't change your mind, then learn martial arts from me."
At the age of seven, Hua Chongyang, who had lost her mother, was taken to Shaolin Temple by Abbot Deyun. She disguised herself as a man, shaved her head, and became a monk to learn Shaolin martial arts.
She raised her sleeves, gathered her robes, and placed them neatly behind the zither, assuming the posture she had been instructed to adopt for playing the instrument. On the Phoenix Terrace, thin crepe gauze swayed in the breeze, stirring the faint mist rising from the spring lake; opposite, in the open pavilion of the Facing Spring Tower, a row of elegant seats was separated by exquisite golden screens, and hanging candlesticks cast shadows of people; too far away for her to see who sat beside each screen. On this ten-zhang-high platform, she had only a clear premonition: this banquet of heroes seemed to be brewing an atmosphere of impending storm.
Wouldn't it be better to grow up peacefully, get married and have children, and live a smooth and uneventful life?
Hua Chongyang raised his eyebrows slightly, his dark, upturned peach blossom eyes reflecting a snow-white face, a faint smile appearing within them.
17. Linchun Pavilion
The lake shimmered in the spring sunshine.
Linchun Pavilion in Linchun Tower has corridors on both sides that surround Spring Lake. Lanterns hang on the corridors, illuminating the faint twilight on the surface of Spring Lake. A dozen or so lotus flowers, each about a foot wide, float on the lake and ripple with the waves, each flower with a candle burning in its heart.
The singing and dancing had just ended, and Linchun Pavilion fell silent. The candlelight flickered on the hanging copper hooks on the ceiling, illuminating the guests below. Behind the lakeside railing, gilded screens were arranged in order, and Ji Chong, Rong Chenfei, Situ Qingliu, Lan Wuxie, Bo Jiang, and the other invited guests took their seats.
Ye Qinghua, wrapped in a black cloak, leaned against the railing in a corner of the pavilion, raising an eyebrow and observing coldly.
In the silence, Ren Ruhua's figure appeared on the Phoenix Terrace, ten feet away.
Ye Qinghua narrowed her eyes slightly.
On the high building, the slender Hua Chongyang stood behind the zither. Thin gauze fluttered around the Phoenix Terrace, billowing her long robes and wide sleeves, making her look like a jade tree in the wind. She always laughed at Hua Chongyang for looking like a man and lacking femininity, but when she was dressed up, her androgynous beauty was undeniable and peerless.
The sound of a zither suddenly began.
Very good, Hua Chongyang did not lose focus or doze off today.
No one heard Hua Chongyang stomping his feet heavily on Phoenix Terrace, but Ye Qinghua did. So, watching Hua Chongyang on stage, stretching his sleeves and playing the zither with great effort, she couldn't help but smile. Before the smile on her lips could fade, a figure had already flown out of the open pavilion.
Then a second and a third figure floated toward the center of the lake, and the three figures fought each other while stepping on the lanterns.
Ye Qinghua suppressed her smile and squinted at the center of the lake.
The rule is that from the start to the end of the zither music, whoever can remove the veil from Ren Ruhua's face wins and makes the famous courtesan Ren Ruhua of Suzhou and Hangzhou appear to offer three cups of wine. People in the martial arts world have always been combative, with the strong ruling and the weak being condemned. No one will pay attention to a wooden zither, and even Ren Ruhua on Phoenix Terrace may not be taken seriously. Those who are eager to step forward are interested in the Alluring Sword.
People die for wealth, birds die for food; this has been true since ancient times.
As the three lanterns sank into the water, three people were already eliminated. Then a fourth and fifth person stepped forward and also fell into the water. Inside Linchun Pavilion, Bo Jiang, who was sitting behind the same screen as Lan Wuxie, glanced at Lan Wuxie and slightly curled his lips:
"Is Pavilion Master Lan still unwilling to make a move? Is she going to wait until the very end?"
Lan Wuxie remained silent, but her dark eyes, visible beneath the golden mask, glanced slightly at Bo Jiang. She then casually picked up the wine pot from the table, filled a cup for her, and handed it to her with a smile.
"Miss Bo, please have a drink."
"Does Pavilion Master Lan have a plan in mind?" Bo Jiang raised an eyebrow, neither offering his wine nor agreeing. "Or do you not care about the Alluring Sword in my hand?"
With a "plop," the sixth person fell into the lake, while the seventh person floated across the surface and began climbing up the edges of the Phoenix Tower. Ren Ruhua remained seated on the Phoenix Terrace, her zither music flowing smoothly. Seeing that the person was about to jump onto the platform, Bo Jiang, without waiting for Lan Wuxie's reply, looked up at the Phoenix Terrace and leaped over the railing.
Finally, a significant figure makes an appearance.
Ye Qinghua narrowed her eyes, watching Bo Jiang leap onto the Phoenix Tower, flick his whip to catch the person climbing the Phoenix Terrace, then turned away from the railing, slowly walking to the screen behind Lan Wuxie's table, smiling slightly and bowing respectfully.
"Palace Master Lan."
Lan Wuxie's gaze was fixed on the lake, one hand resting on the edge of the table and the other on the armrest of his chair, his voice calm and even:
"Ye Qinghua."
What an impolite way of addressing someone.
Ye Qinghua took a wine cup, raised the wine pot, poured herself a drink, glanced back at the surrounding screen, and smiled at Lan Wuxie:
"It seems none of you are in the mood for drinking. What a waste of my century-old vintage."
She narrowed her eyes, peering into the deep, dark gaze beneath Lan Wuxie's mask and his profile as he leaned against the round table.
What an outstanding man! With broad shoulders, a slender waist, and a tall figure, he could easily draw attention to anyone just by sitting down at the table, with his pointed and delicate chin under the mask and his overly gorgeous light purple clothes. Not to mention the gold ring on his back that shimmered brightly under the light, the gold ring with a phoenix feather inlaid on his long, fair little finger, and the three-inch gold wire bracelet that clung to his wrist when his sleeve slipped down to his elbow.
The rumors were indeed true; the master of Lanying Palace was no ordinary person who loved gold. He was adorned with gold from head to toe, with an air of arrogance that he wouldn't stop until he dazzled people with gold. However, Ye Qinghua had to admit that she had never seen another man wear gold jewelry in such a noble and refined manner.
...However, she had never seen another man with such a beautiful profile, his delicate, pointed chin slightly raised, as if about to pierce the dim candlelight.
Without making a sound, she followed Lan Wuxie's gaze to the lake, glancing at Hua Chongyang on the high platform. Bo Jiang's figure moved swiftly across the lake, causing even the well-informed Ye Qinghua to sigh inwardly at his superb lightness skill. Coupled with the advantage of the long whip in her hand, it was clear that Bo Jiang was bound to win this contest.
Sure enough, in no time, one of the two lanterns sank. Bo Jiang flicked his long whip, climbed up the Phoenix Tower, and lightly touched the lantern with his toes before leaping towards the Phoenix Terrace.
Ye Qinghua's gaze swept over Linchun Pavilion.
No one made a move.
She could understand why Ji Chong and Rong Chenfei didn't make a move; after all, Ji Chong was highly respected and Rong Chenfei was still observing mourning, so they could simply come without offending her. But with the Alluring Sword present, Situ Qingliu still didn't act—
Could it be!
Ye Qinghua suddenly remembered the rumor that Bo Feng wanted to recruit Situ Qingliu as his son-in-law. Since Situ Qingliu hadn't made a move, did he tacitly agree that the rumor was true? If so, then Hua Chongyang would likely fall into Bo Jiang's hands tonight…
The long whip tip tore through the hanging veil and flew towards Hua Chongyang's face in the wind.