Le voyage d'un mendiant à travers le monde

Chapitre 73

Shao Yang watched their retreating figures and said coldly, "Ruzheng, the horses have already been given to them. You don't still intend to help them, do you?"

Yue Ruzheng lowered his head, remaining silent. At this moment, a trusted aide who had accompanied Shao Yang rode up to his ear and whispered, "Senior Brother, now that we've arrived at Bliss Valley, shouldn't we go and take a look?"

Shao Yang frowned, thinking to himself that the Bliss Valley probably wouldn't just send Su Mucheng to deal with Seven Star Island. If Mo Li personally took action, and was currently fighting with Lian Junchu, wouldn't it be possible to reap the benefits when they were both exhausted?

Thinking of this, Shao Yang nodded to him and said to the others, "The Valley of Bliss and Yinxi Pavilion have a feud over the theft of a pearl. Let's go over there and see what the situation is like." After saying that, he took the lead and whipped his horse forward.

Yue Ruzheng was surprised that Shao Yang could lead people to stand on the same side as Seven Star Island. She thought that her senior brother could put aside past grievances and consider the overall situation in the face of major issues, so she followed him.

When the people from Yinxi Xiaozhu arrived at the ancient city wall, they saw that the fire at the abandoned temple not far away was still burning. Chongming and his group had already clashed with Su Muchen and his men. Lian Junchu, watching Mo Li who had not yet made a move, went straight towards him. Several of Jile Valley's subordinates attempted to intercept him halfway, but seeing the two swords in his sleeve flash like meteors, they were slashed in the throat by the cold blades before they could even make a move, and blood splattered everywhere.

The scene sent chills down the spines of Shao Yang and the others, and Yue Ruzheng could not bear to watch. She pursed her lips, staring at the billowing smoke in the distance, saying nothing. At this moment, Mo Li, who had been watching the battle from the city wall, suddenly swooped down like a falcon, stepping onto the shoulders of several subordinates in mid-air, using the momentum to leap up, and met Lian Junchu's flying sword strike.

Mo Li's slender fingers touched the tip of the sword. The vibration sent a chill through Lian Junchu, rising from the sword in her sleeve and seeping into Mo Li's palm. Mo Li frowned, flicked his wrist, and floated backward, his toes landing on Su Mucheng's shoulder. He glanced sideways at Shao Yang and the others in the distance, a cold smile playing on his lips. He then leaped over the city wall and vanished into the night in the blink of an eye.

Seeing this, Su Muchen led his men to follow closely. Chongming and the others were about to give chase when Lian Junchu quietly stopped them. At this moment, Shao Yang and the others, who had stopped their horses in the open field, seeing no profit to be gained, quietly retreated.

The courage Yue Ruzheng had shown when she rushed out of Yinxi Xiaozhu had long since vanished, especially after witnessing Lian Junchu's flying sword killing people; a nameless fear welled up within her. Seeing her still hesitating, Shao Yang grabbed her arm, half-pushing and half-pulling her to turn the horse around, and slowly departed with the others.

The fire in the ruined temple gradually died down, but the smoke still lingered, and specks of ash floated in the air. The people from Yinxi Xiaozhu had all gone, and Lian Junchu stood alone under the ancient city wall, the two swords hanging from her sleeves still swaying slightly, bloodstains dripping from their tips, the ground a mess.

A gust of wind blew past, and he finally raised his head, gazing at the deserted wilderness. Under the cover of night, his eyes were dark and deep, seemingly devoid of life.

Chongming, sword in hand, walked up behind him, filled with remorse: "Young Master, I'm so sorry to have troubled you these past few days."

"It's nothing." Lian Junchu's voice sounded somewhat tired. He didn't turn around, still facing the city wall. After a long while, he asked again, "Did you fight with the people from Yinxi Xiaozhu that night?"

Chongming thought for a moment and said, "That night we went out to look for you, but we encountered people from the Bliss Valley on the way. During the fight, a man and a woman passed by and helped us, but they were both masked, so I didn't know who they were at the time... Just now, I saw two people in Yinxi Xiaozhu whose figures and swordsmanship seemed familiar, and I think they must be them."

Lian Junchu frowned slightly, remaining silent. Chongming continued, "After they left that day, we thought we had driven back the people from Bliss Valley, so we headed back. Unexpectedly, another masked man ambushed us, injuring all three of us. Not long after, the same group returned, and we were unable to fight back, so they captured us... Tonight, I managed to escape when they weren't looking."

"We didn't make a big fuss about coming out this time, so how did the people from Bliss Valley find out?" one of the riders asked in confusion.

Lian Junchu sighed softly, glanced up at the night sky, and said, "Perhaps this matter is not just about the Valley of Bliss." Seeing Chongming's great surprise, he smiled faintly, "It was just talk. You and the others go to the South Gate; Danfeng and Yinglong are waiting there."

"Young master, aren't you coming with us?" Chongming asked, puzzled.

Lian Junchu gazed at the city wall before her and said softly, "You go first, I'll follow shortly."

Although Chongming was very uneasy, he knew Lian Junchu's personality well. Once he made up his mind, no amount of persuasion would change it. He had no choice but to mount his horse with the others and slowly head south. Not daring to go far, he quietly stopped and waited after turning a corner.

Soon, only Lian Junchu remained at the ancient city wall. He looked up at the pale crescent moon in the sky. In the distance, Luzhou City remained as tranquil and peaceful as it had been that year, with the moat flowing silently, just like the unnoticed passage of time.

The night was vast and dark. As far as the eye could see, expansive plains stretched to the horizon, eventually merging into the dark blue sky. The moonlight was cold and clear tonight, with remnants of snow clinging to the cracks between the bricks. Wild grass grew rampant on the dilapidated city walls, swaying incessantly in the shadows.

This desolate place once sheltered him three years ago, when he was heartbroken. Back then, he thought everything was over, that he had just had a fleeting, unreal dream. But in the end, what did that pain amount to?

That boy who cherished the green plum blossoms, who longed for companionship, was nothing but self-deception, leaving only a laughingstock.

Even behind the respect, there was only endless whispering and pitying glances.

Everyone knows that he, a man who has no right to dream, once foolishly believed that he could find tenderness.

He looked down at his own reflection and the two swords swaying gently at his sides. His once clean blue robe was now stained with blood, making it look quite eerie.

With a soft sound, he raised his right arm, and the short sword that was originally connected by a silver cord retracted a little, with only a pale tip of the sword showing at the cuff of his sleeve.

He gazed at the mottled city wall before him for a long time, then slowly raised his right arm, gently touching the bricks with the tip of his sword. The bricks should have been cold in the dead of winter, but he couldn't feel that; he could only sense the word "hard" through the collision of the sword tip with the bricks.

He glided the tip of the sword across the city wall as if stroking it with his hand, and then, very slowly, he carved a deep sword mark into the brickwork.

The sword blade rubbed against the bricks, producing a piercing sound.

His face was expressionless, his eyes vacant, and his movements mechanical and heavy. Shards of ice and stone fragments fell from beneath his sword, drifting around him.

Under the deep darkness of night, Yue Ruzheng led her horse back in the direction she had just taken, standing alone at the edge of the wilderness.

From her perspective, Lian Junchu, dressed in deep blue under the moonlight, appeared as cold and desolate as the green calyx in the Yinxi Pavilion. The tip of the sword protruding from his sleeve gleamed with a chilling white light, and the mark carved into the brickwork snaked like a serpent.

The horse neighed softly, and Lian Junchu, who was in the distance, heard the sound and turned her head to look over.

Under the cover of the dim night, Yue Ruzheng dared to look him in the eye.

Because they were far apart, Yue Ruzheng couldn't see his face clearly, but for some reason, she felt a chilling coldness emanating from his gaze.

When I first saw him, his gaze was cold, but it was completely different from now.

If his eyes were like a still pool when they first met on that rainy night, now his gaze is like a thousand feet of ice.

Yue Ruzheng was frozen in place by that chilling gaze, unable to take a single step forward. Meanwhile, he had already turned and walked away into the distance.

Under the moonlight, he walked alone, when Yue Ruzheng suddenly loosened the reins and galloped to catch up with him.

"Little Tang!"

She used all her strength to struggle and utter those two words, her voice low and hoarse, trembling violently.

He continued walking forward without stopping. The shadow of the city wall fell on his brocade robe, stained with drops of blood.

Yue Ruzheng's tears rolled down her cheeks like beads from a broken string. She weakly chased after him a few more steps, unable to contain her grief. She didn't even know how she had managed to run back from Shao Yang's side; her heart was churning with a mix of emotions. She just wanted to tell him that she understood the real reason he had first snapped at her years ago: he had gone to gather information for her, been humiliated and pushed down, yet hadn't said a word.

Why does he always keep everything bottled up, hiding all his thoughts deep inside, unwilling to let anyone touch them? She wanted to say sorry, even though he wouldn't forgive her.

Yue Ruzheng was only a few steps away from him, but she was trembling all over and had no strength left to rush over. That familiar figure looked especially lonely in the moonlight, yet it was also extremely cold.

He suddenly stopped, but did not turn around.

The evening breeze stirred his brocade robe, causing the pale blue sleeves to flutter.