L'amour se trouve ici pour trois cents taels

Chapitre 10

It was noon, and the cooks were busy as bees were coming. The martial arts tournament was about to begin, and heroes from all walks of life had arrived. There were now over a hundred people eating, and the cooks were almost overwhelmed, so they couldn't help but grumble and complain.

The woman said, "This is the new kitchen helper."

He then pointed at Little Pockmarked Boy, "You, go over there quickly."

Little Pockmarked entered the kitchen, where flames were everywhere. Standing in the kitchen, he didn't know where to start.

"Ouch." The little pockmarked boy scratched his head, and when he turned around, a middle-aged man with a full beard was holding a spoon and yelling, "You, hurry up and wash the vegetables."

Little Pockmarked Man nodded repeatedly, then dashed to the backyard, where he saw a mountain of cabbages, radishes, fish, meat, and fruits. A hint of regret crossed his dark face, and he sighed deeply before rolling up his sleeves and getting to work with great effort.

Jianghu Ten Continents People

A warm, sunny morning with a gentle breeze.

A burly man with a full beard, brandishing a ladle, searched from the kitchen to the backyard, roaring deafeningly: "Little Pockmarked Boy! Little Pockmarked Boy!"

"Here he comes..." Suddenly, a face as black as Bao Gong (a famous judge in Chinese history) appeared in front of him, dragging a broom and carrying a bucket of water, with a silly grin on his face.

Brother Spoon with the bushy cheeks casually gave Little Pockmarked a flick on the forehead: "Where are you slacking off again? Hurry up and wash the vegetables, gut the fish, and feed the chicken. A big shot is coming to our mansion today, so hurry up and be efficient." Little Pockmarked nodded repeatedly, saying he had remembered... Only then did Brother Spoon with the bushy cheeks return to the kitchen to look after the lotus leaf porridge simmering in the pot.

Little Pockmarked Man picked up a winnowing basket, circled the chicken, and began scattering rice. Suddenly, a pair of thick, strong hands reached out and snatched the basket away. Little Pockmarked Man looked up in astonishment and saw a face even more terrifying than Brother Spoon's.

"Brother Ma Zi..." Fatty Tiger called out sweetly, nudging Little Ma Zi with his sturdy shoulder. "I'll do this job." His face, which resembled a washbasin, was filled with a shyness and coquettishness that didn't match his burly physique.

Fat Tiger entered the manor with Little Pockmarked Boy. Thanks to the extra hundred or so martial arts practitioners, the kitchen was overwhelmed and several new servants were hired. Fat Tiger had grown up in the countryside of Xutian and had never seen such a large manor or such beautiful pavilions and waterside terraces. Feeling playful, he secretly slipped out of his room at night to play in the garden. As he wandered around, he couldn't find his way around. Suddenly, a large lotus pond appeared before him. Tiger Girl was stunned and didn't know how to describe the beautiful scenery.

Under the soft moonlight, the lotus flowers swaying in the wind are so noble and pure that they cannot be looked at directly.

Tiger Girl walked blankly across the covered bridge and arrived at a small courtyard suspended over the water. Walking on the openwork bridge, she worried with every step that she might fall. Holding onto the railing, her legs ached; she couldn't swim, and if she fell, she'd be dead.

He hesitated for a moment, about to turn around, when he glanced up and saw what looked like a white thing on the railing a few feet away. Upon closer inspection, Fatty Tiger was startled; the white thing was indeed a living person.

Fat Tiger was scared. If he was discovered breaking into the Ye family mansion late at night, he would definitely be kicked out. If he went home, his mother would scold him for being a good-for-nothing.

She carefully moved her feet, intending to turn back, when a faint voice sounded behind her: "Who are you?" Fatty Tiger panicked instantly, stammering and not knowing what to say. The person continued: "Don't you know that intruders to Fansheng Garden die?" Fatty Tiger stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence: "You, you, you also..." Her head spun, and she only smelled a sweet aroma of candied fruit. She swallowed hard, the words stuck in her throat, and she fainted.

A masked man in black picked up Fat Tiger and vanished instantly, as if nothing had happened. Only a row of blue-glowing poison needles remained on the pillar behind where Tiger Girl had been standing.

The man in white looked in the direction they left, lost in thought.

"Wake up, young lady." Fatty Tiger opened her eyes, and what she saw was a pair of dark, clear eyes and a face as black as Bao Gong's. She was stunned for a moment, then realized her neck was a little sore. Fear surged up like a torrent. She hurriedly looked around to make sure she wasn't in that flooded courtyard before wiping away her sweat and asking, "Young man, what happened to me?" The dark-skinned young man smiled gently, "I was taking a dump in the middle of the night and saw you lying here, young lady." Fatty Tiger was afraid people would find out she had gone to that damned courtyard, so she quickly explained, "It was too stuffy inside, so I came outside to cool off. Hehe, hehe. I'll go back now." She quickly ran back to her room, locked the door tightly, and then remembered the man in black. Why had he helped her?

A few more days passed in the blink of an eye.

Since everyone lived in the same courtyard, Fat Tiger often encountered Little Pockmarked. She gradually noticed that, aside from being a bit dark-skinned, Little Pockmarked had a well-defined nose and mouth, and especially beautiful, dark, and bright eyes. Realizing this, Fat Tiger blushed. From then on, wherever Little Pockmarked was, Fat Tiger would always be there, within three steps.

When Little Pockmarked saw Fatty Tiger snatch the winnowing basket, he rubbed his hands together and, taking advantage of Fatty Tiger's unpreparedness, quickly slipped out of the yard.

Ye Changsheng patted his chest and let out a breath, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. It was truly hardest to resist the kindness of a beautiful woman, especially one as strong and fierce as Pang Hu. Her tastes were truly extreme; even with his face covered in such smears, she still liked it without hesitation.

Thus, the little pockmarked man was none other than Ye Changsheng, who had painted a dark black face. After leaving Renyi Manor, he parted ways with Jia Ling; one sneaked into the Ye residence, while the other accepted the invitation and openly became a guest of honor at the Ye residence.

Counting the days, it was about time for Jia Ling to arrive. Ye Changsheng dusted off his sleeves and walked towards the west gate of the mansion.

After walking a few steps, Ye Changsheng realized something was amiss. It seemed someone was following her within ten paces. She took a few more steps, and the person followed suit. Suddenly turning her head, she saw a woman rubbing her hands together, her expression strange. Clearly, she had been startled upon seeing Changsheng's dark face.

Ye Changsheng smiled gently and pointed ahead: "Miss, the guests' rooms are over there." The girl was pale, her eyes were dim, and her face was expressionless. She asked softly, "Young man, could you take me there?" Ye Changsheng smiled slightly and nodded.

The two walked slowly when the woman suddenly spoke, "Young man, your back view resembles an old friend of mine." Ye Changsheng smiled and said, "Girl, you're so beautiful. Your old friend must not be an ordinary person like us." The woman's eyes flickered, and she looked away, muttering, "Yes, how could he be an ordinary person? I've asked for too much."

"Qiu Ling." A deep voice sounded, sounding somewhat familiar.

Ling Baiyu rushed over, looking at the woman before him with a tense expression. He had just entered the manor and turned around, only to find Bai Qiuling gone, causing him great anxiety. He heard her voice coming from not far away. He hurriedly searched and finally found her.

Bai Qiuling remained indifferent upon seeing the newcomer, without uttering a single word.

Ling Baiyu's infinitely gentle gaze gave Ye Changsheng, who was standing to the side, goosebumps.

Bai Qiuling followed him away. Watching their departing figures, Ye Changsheng sighed, "To outsiders, the two of them seem like a perfect couple. But the knots in their hearts are probably hard to untie."

As the sun rose higher, Ye Changsheng realized it was already noon. A chill ran down her spine; she could almost see the bearded man waving his ladle, ready to swat her over the head. Back in the courtyard, the cooks were already bustling about. She tiptoed back to the backyard, where the vegetables piled on the ground were washed, sorted, and packed, and the fish were gutted. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Little Pockmarked…” This time, it was another cupboard maker, Old Song.

He held up a white porcelain pot and shoved it into Changsheng's hands without a word: "Erjing has gone back to his hometown. This is Young Master Helan's. You will be responsible for delivering it from now on." Ye Changsheng took it, his dark face expressionless.

In Fansheng Garden, white lotuses sway in the breeze, and the blue water stretches to the horizon.

More than ten years ago, this was the courtyard of Ye Sheng, the young master of the Ye family. That legendary, god-like youth loved lotus flowers in his youth, so Ye Junshan had the entire Fansheng Garden carved out, diverting water from the nearby Shaohe River, and building this covered walkway and waterside pavilion on the water. Now, Helan Ronghua—Ye Sheng's master—lives here.

Ye Changsheng carefully carried the plate along the corridor, afraid that he might accidentally fall. The courtyard was deserted, with almost no servants. A gentle breeze swept across the water, creating ripples.

She walked past several pavilions and stopped in front of a small room, knocking on the door with her outstretched hand: "Is anyone home?" The room was quiet, without a sound. Ye Changsheng pushed the door open with a "whoosh," and slowly walked in. Changsheng slightly averted her eyes; nothing seemed to have changed here—the paintings on the walls, the inkstone on the desk, the color of the curtains, the silver-edged spider plant by the bed growing lushly, all innocently as if they had never left.

On the table was a painting of a tall, handsome young man with a cold gaze and a beautiful face, behind him were vast fields of lotus flowers as pure and bright as the moonlight.

Ye Changsheng's hand trembled, his eyes lowered, and his long eyelashes trembled slightly.

"Who are you?" a faint voice sounded from behind.

Ye Changsheng lowered his head and said softly, "I'm here to bring you soup, young master."

"Put it down." Ye Changsheng slowly raised his head. The man before him had exquisite features, wore a moon-white robe, and looked like an immortal, completely untouched by worldly concerns. For him, time was simply the passing of days.

The man said calmly, "Go down." Ye Changsheng smiled and pointed to the small casserole on the table, "I'll have to wait until you're finished, young master. You don't have any servants here, so I can't very well ask you to take these things back to the kitchen." The man opened the soup on the table, picked up a spoon, slowly drank a few spoonfuls, put it down, and wiped his hands with a white silk cloth. He gestured for Changsheng to take it away.

Ye Changsheng bowed and stepped forward to clear the dishes, then turned and left.

The man stared blankly in the direction he had left. A kitchen servant, his hands, though as black as his face, didn't look like the hands of someone who did manual labor.

Ye Changsheng left Fansheng Garden, found a place to throw away her bowl and chopsticks, washed off her smeared face, covered her face and changed into black clothes. Tonight she was going to find something.

Fansheng Garden, East Wing

A dark figure swiftly slipped inside, walked to the desk and candlestick, and gently turned it to the left. With a "whoosh," the door to the dark room opened, revealing it to be completely empty.

"What are you looking for?" a voice asked softly.

Ye Changsheng cursed inwardly and hurriedly tried to leave, but a row of silver needles appeared before him in a flash. He stopped and withdrew his foot, a sweet, fishy scent wafting from his nose. He immediately held his breath, leaped towards the window, and secretly submerged into the water.

After a long while, she finally climbed ashore and stumbled into a cave. Her head was spinning, and Changsheng knew she must have inhaled poison gas. A bleak smile appeared on her lips. She couldn't escape death after all. She opened her eyes with difficulty. This was the cave she loved to come to when she was a child. Whenever her father forced her to practice martial arts and become stronger, she would always sneak off to this place.

And then there's the master, that man in a moon-white robe by the waterside pavilion, his smile as beautiful as the moonlight.

It turns out that everything was an illusion, everything was empty, and in the end, I didn't even know the obsession I had with living.

My vision blurred, my head grew heavier, and all the sounds around me disappeared. Time seemed to rewind, and I could almost see my master smiling gently in front of the vast expanse of lotus flowers. He reached out his hand and said softly, "Sheng'er, come here."

Lotus Ten Mile Willow Pond West

A bright moon, as white as frost, cast its silvery light across the sky and earth. Beneath the moon, lotus flowers swayed in the clear water, their shadows dancing, the light and shadow like snow. The moon was reflected in the clear water, a wooden bridge stood silently, and the stream rippled.

Under the moonlight, a man in a moon-white robe gently parted the willow branches and orchid leaves, stopped in front of a rockery, and slowly approached the black figure inside. His slightly trembling hand touched the person's cheek, and he pulled down the black veil covering their face. In the hazy moonlight, the familiar yet unfamiliar face had lost its former pride, and its indifference had turned into gentleness and tranquility.

The man reached out and gently pulled the woman into his arms. His eyes were lowered, his long eyelashes trembled slightly, and a tender look appeared in them as he murmured softly, "Sheng'er..."

With his mind completely clear, when Ye Changsheng opened his eyes and saw the moon-white robe, he knew he was not dead.

Helan Ronghua seemed to have noticed that she had woken up. She slowly turned around, walked over from the window, carefully picked up a bowl of dark, sticky medicine from the table, sat down by the bed, and gestured for her to drink it.

Chang Sheng gently pushed the spoon away, his pale face expressionless: "When did you find out?"

Helan Ronghua simply smiled faintly and said softly, "You don't even call me Master anymore?"

Gently stir the herbs in the bowl back and forth, and the room is filled with a rich aroma of herbs.

“That night at Renyi Manor, you collapsed in the corridor. I thought it was someone who looked like you, but when I felt your pulse, it was an old injury. I became suspicious, but it was just suspicion. Soon after, we returned to Jiangling. That day, when you came to deliver medicine, your hands aroused my suspicion. Besides, if this was your first time in this courtyard, how could you be so familiar with it, without even taking a wrong turn?”

Slowly raising her head, she looked into Changsheng's eyes and said gently, "What confirms my suspicion is that you opened that hidden compartment. Are you trying to retrieve the Yin Gate Token?"

Changsheng suddenly chuckled softly, meeting those gentle yet indifferent eyes, and said in a hoarse voice, "I wonder if Master could return the Yin Gate Token to me for the sake of our past master-disciple relationship. Since Ye Sheng is dead, it's best to let the dead rest in peace."

A gust of wind blew in, causing the candlelight to flicker. Helan got up and gently closed the window. In the small room, a lonely figure stood out in the soft candlelight.

"I promise you I won't tell Ye Junshan. But the Yin Gate Token, I'm afraid I can't do anything about it, it's no longer here."

Ye Changsheng stood up, his steps still a little unsteady. He shook his head, cupped his hands, and said, "Thank you, Master."

He pushed open the door, moved in an instant, and disappeared into the vast night, never looking back.

Ye Changsheng didn't know where she was going. She just wandered aimlessly. Eight years had passed, and many places in the mansion had changed. Most of the servants were unfamiliar faces. She hadn't set foot on Jiangling's soil for eight years, and she really didn't want to come back.

This place holds her most cherished memories, as well as nightmares she can never shake off.

Young people don't know the taste of sorrow. Ye Sheng was once so proud, standing above everyone else, looking down on the world, laughing wildly, showing off his undisguised ambition and aspiration to achieve great things, and everyone cheered him on.

Ye Sheng had a chivalrous father who was the leader of the martial arts alliance, a master with the appearance of an immortal, a loving mother, Uncle Zhong, and companions who were determined to follow him to the death. But overnight, it seemed that everyone had abandoned him. Everything turned into a bubble, as untouchable as a mirage, as if the eight years that had passed would never return.

Helan Ronghua sat on the bed, stroking the still-warm sheets, slightly dazed. After a long while, he smiled faintly, a warm tear rolling down his cheek. She wasn't dead; that was enough...

When Changsheng realized that he had already walked to a big locust tree in the backyard, a faint smile unconsciously appeared on his lips. Because of the remote location, no one ever came here. When he was a child, he was naughty and relied on his good lightness skills to hide in the locust tree and make the adults look for him. In the end, no matter where he hid, his master could always find him and call him home with a faint smile.

Her father only had one child, and from a young age, he repeatedly told her that his child was the one who would inherit the Ye family in the future. He would not allow her to be weak or naughty. Her martial arts skills had to be the best, and her studies had to be the best. She even had to forget that she was a girl. Year after year, day after day, the name Ye Sheng had become a legend known to everyone in the martial arts world.

But the way her loving mother looked at her each time only made her more and more puzzled.

The shadows of the trees swayed, and the leaves trembled slightly. When Changsheng looked up again, there was a person on the tree, dressed in crimson robes and light gauze, bewitching and alluring. The person chuckled softly.

How does it feel to revisit this place?

Chang Sheng smiled faintly: "Not bad."

"Oh?" Li Huangyin raised an eyebrow, seemingly disbelieving. "Sect Leader Ye is truly a magnanimous person. You really don't hate him at all?"

Chang Sheng said slowly, "Master Li has reminded me time and again. Could it be that you are afraid I have forgotten the grudge from that sword strike?"

In a flash, Li Huangyin was already in front of Changsheng, a half-smile on her face: "I watched you kill your own father right before my eyes..."

Ye Changsheng's face was pale, and the moonlight shone on her bloodless face, making it seem translucent.

After a long silence, she finally spoke: "Li Huangyin, you are pathetic."

Li Huangyin stood in front of her, his nose almost touching hers, and said coldly, "What did you say?"

Ye Changsheng smiled slightly, his eyes shining: "Are you so lonely that you want someone who's been dead for eight years to come up to Luoyang Cliff again to duel you? You used every means to get to the position of the Pavilion Master, why don't you cherish it? It won't be long before the major martial arts sects launch a joint attack on Luoyang Pavilion. You should think about how to deal with them."

Li Huangyin squinted her eyes. The night wind was silent, their clothes fluttered, and their hair was intertwined, the hair ribbons white. The moonlight was like water, and they wore white robes and red shirts, their faces radiant with jade-like beauty. Such a scene was like a poem or a painting.

"Luoyang Tower is nothing more than a toy I acquired on a whim back then. If anyone covets it, as long as they are better than me, I'll take it." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair from Changsheng's cheek. "Or... you're reluctant to part with the hard work your father put into building it."