Безымянный убийца

Глава 33

No longer be that Xuan Sheng who is confused about the future and bewildered about the past.

From then on, Ye Tianjian roamed the martial world, wielding his sword only for that one person.

He needs to find himself again.

And then there's his wife.

Meanwhile, on the road at the village entrance, two women dressed as men were walking one after the other.

The man in front, looking helpless, watched the woman behind him tugging at his robes and wailing as she walked away, and couldn't help but shake his head: "Miss, why are you crying?"

Shao Hua was crying her eyes out, and when she heard what she said, she cried even harder: "Chun Bi, you idiot, what do you know? On my wedding day, I have to watch my groom run away, do you know how much of a blow that is to me? Waaaaah...you idiot!"

“But…” Chunbi was speechless: “Didn’t Miss run away first?”

"But he's here to break off the marriage contract... Waaaaah, I'm going to be divorced in this lifetime! Waaaah, I'll never get married! Waaah—" Shao Hua cried even louder without realizing it. Her dashing demeanor in front of Xuan Sheng was completely gone, and she was crying without any regard for her image.

"This... doesn't seem like a divorce?" The maid, much older and prettier than her, patted her shoulder, thinking with a bewildered expression. But seeing how heartbroken she was crying, she sighed again: "Since you like the second young master so much, why don't you stay and marry him? Why are you doing this, Miss? He hasn't even thought of Master Ye yet."

"What good is it if I like him!" Shao Hua stamped her foot, half angry and half heartbroken. "Even if I like him, can I be as devoted to him as Ye Shuangjing? Will he like me back if I like him?! What if he regains his memory one day?!" As she spoke, she suddenly burst into tears again. "You bastard! You idiot! You moron! Who said I like him! There are plenty of good men in the martial arts world! Why should I like a man who has caught butterflies for me since I was a child, taught me to write, taught me to wield a sword, and taken me to see the scenery in the mountains? Why?! Waaaaah—!!" She cried her heart out, grabbing Chun Bi with one hand and wiping her tears and snot with the other. "Who said I like him? Waaaaah… I don't like him at all! Waaaaah!!"

“Miss…” Chunbi shook her head with a face full of pity.

“Chunbi… Waaah… I didn’t get to be the bride…” This touched a raw nerve, and Shaohua squatted down, hugging herself and bursting into tears: “My groom ran away… ran away for another woman… and that woman… I can’t bring myself to hate her! Waaah! You bastard… Second brother, you bastard… Waaah!”

“Sigh…” Chunbi looked at her willful and capricious master and couldn’t help but let out a long sigh.

Looking up, one sees white clouds drifting lazily through the sky, the azure sky as clear as glass, and the winding paths along the fields stretching for miles, extending towards the horizon.

On the way home, even if we meet again, we might not recognize each other.

Colorful clouds startle the year's end, swirling around the lonely mountain peak.

The distance between Seven Stone Gate and Half Moon City is too great to cover in ten days or half a month. Even if Xuan Sheng was eager to return, he couldn't traverse this road that spans the ends of the earth. So when he finally arrived at Cloud Mountain, where Seven Stone Gate was located, it was already late autumn, with green leaves withered and maple leaves ablaze, and the moon overhead was about to become full again, yet he was still not reunited with that person.

The moment he stepped onto the stone steps, he suddenly remembered the scene from a few months ago when he came to ask for the Half-Moon Luo Ying. The woman had run into his arms and cried her heart out, a man who was not easily moved. But all he got in return was a sentence from him: "I am new to the martial world and have never heard of the sect leader's name."

Thinking of this, Xuan Sheng, who had never wavered in the face of life and death, suddenly felt a little scared. He was caught between a rock and a hard place, and stood there blankly at the door for a while until the sunset faded and dusk fell. Only then did he slowly walk towards the seemingly endless stone steps.

The steps stretched endlessly, winding and gradually shrouded in misty white fog. Green grass grew rampant on both sides, the mountain slopes undulating, forests lush and verdant, creating a secluded and beautiful landscape. From afar came the sounds of wild birds taking flight, their melodious calls, and the babbling of springs. The steps beneath my feet were made of sea-stone, and even the lightest footsteps produced a crisp, resonant sound. As I reached the halfway point, a light rain began to fall. Clouds gathered, mist dispersed, and raindrops pattered down, making a soft, pearly sound as they fell on the steps.

Xuan Sheng paid no attention to the fairyland scenery along the way. He focused on his journey, feeling both uneasy and a little joyful.

What worries me is Shuangjing's illness, but what pleases me is that I will soon see those people.

Suddenly, he stopped and looked behind him with some confusion.

As he passed by, he saw several swords lying on the ground. Looking back, he saw weapons discarded on the steps above: bows, crossbows, spears, swords, spears, axes, halberds, maces—all sorts of weapons were scattered haphazardly on the road. Some of them were even top-quality items, inlaid with gems and gold, but they were so badly damaged that they were left to rot, as if they had been the result of a fierce battle.

With a sudden surge of energy, Xuan Sheng quickly sped up and rushed upwards.

The higher they went, the more abandoned weapons appeared, piled up almost like a mountain. Xuan Sheng was terrified and used all his strength to fly upwards.

Before I could catch my breath when I arrived at the gate, I looked up and felt a chill run through my body.

A vast expanse of snowflakes stretched out, and white banners, white flowers, and mourning flags lined the entrance to the Seven Stone Gate. White paper scrolls were scattered in front of the gate, and faint cries and wails could be heard from within.

Xuan Sheng felt a bang in his head, his eyes went blank, his limbs felt cold, and his heart ached terribly, yet he couldn't grasp a single thought and stood frozen at the doorway.

A cool breeze blew, making the white cloth of the funeral banner trail extremely long, almost brushing against his forehead, leaving a regretful sound in the air.

He took a slow step forward, but felt his steps were as heavy as lead, yet as light as a feather when he stepped on them.

The surroundings were empty and devoid of all color, with only white banners, white as snow, fluttering everywhere.

As far as I can remember, that person didn't like white.

When we first met, she was dressed in a light purple robe. When she went out to find medicine, she was always dressed in emerald green, which made the surrounding mountains and rivers pale in comparison. In the dream, on her wedding day, she was dressed in a fiery red wedding gown, which was so dazzling that it split the day and night with a bright color. Apart from her graceful figure, no other color could be seen.

Memories of the past surged in like a tidal wave, engulfing and overwhelming him; every step he took was like crushing his own heart.

"Why are you only arriving now?" — The first question she asked Ye Shuangjing when she first met her felt like a heavy punch to her face.

Why are you only arriving now?

Why wait until all the splendor has faded before remembering to seize the day when the flowers are in full bloom?

Why wait until the East River flows into the sea before appreciating its gentle, enduring flow?

Why wait until the world has changed, things have changed, and the sea has dried up and the rocks have crumbled before we remember the kindness and laughter of that person?

Xuan Sheng felt the chill penetrate to the very core of his being, and every breath felt like a knife cutting into his throat and slicing through his heart.

No words can describe the chill and bewilderment he feels right now.

"Who is it?!" A voice suddenly shouted from behind, and a hand reached straight for him!

Whoosh—!

Ningdu dodged the man's attack, but her sleeve was ripped off in one go! Luckily, she dodged quickly. The man's anger and killing intent poured down like a storm, and he could feel the sharp killing intent emanating from him just by standing there.

"Xuansheng?" She stood there looking at him, somewhat surprised.

"!" Xuan Sheng finally realized that the person in front of him was Ning Du, so he slowly withdrew his arm and lowered his head: "Greetings, Miss."

Ningdu's face immediately darkened: "What are you doing here? The Seven Stones Sect doesn't welcome you!"

“Miss Ningdu… Sect Master…” Xuan Sheng suddenly felt a glimmer of hope and asked, looking at her face anxiously.

"You still have the nerve to ask me that!" Ning Du's face turned pale with rage, her eyes widened, and she trembled with grief and indignation. Pointing at him, she couldn't even finish her sentence: "You...you...you heartless bastard...Fine, fine, fine! I give up!" She rattled off a string of words, her speech incoherent with anger: "Didn't you see we were holding a funeral? How dare you add insult to injury!" As soon as she finished speaking, she drew two short knives with a whoosh and shouted sharply: "Even if I have to risk my life today, I will seek justice for my master! Take this!"

With a delicate shout, she leaped forward with a light touch of her toes!

brush--!

Instantly, the snow-white paper money and frost flowers covering the sky and the ground were stained with drops of red blood.

Ningdu stared wide-eyed as he watched helplessly as his dagger pierced Xuansheng's chest.

The man in front of her didn't even blink.

After a long while, he slowly raised his eyes.

Ningdu was stunned, and suddenly felt pain all over his body.

It was an empty gaze, utterly desolate, filled with sorrow and despair.

But... why are you only arriving now?

Why was it that being one step too late meant being separated by the ends of the earth, unable to bring back the fleeting years?

Why is it that even though the love was so profound, so real, so... so intense... that we chose to forget each other in the vast world?

The two gazed at each other silently for a moment. All around was quiet except for the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves and the scattered white blossoms.

"Take me to see her..." Xuan Sheng said after a moment, word by word.

Even though he was clearly in the wrong and she had acted with righteous indignation, Ning Du felt inexplicably unable to lift her head in front of this man and couldn't truly meet his clear and firm gaze.

"I'm going to draw my sword." After a long pause, she said expressionlessly. Before Xuan Sheng could answer or nod, she swiftly pulled the sword out. She hadn't stabbed him with great force, and thankfully, she hadn't damaged any blood vessels. If the second young master of Half Moon City was as powerful as they said, then this stab should have been insignificant. However, because she was still angry, she slightly shifted her wrist, and Xuan Sheng involuntarily paled, but his eyes remained completely calm.

"Come with me."

The two walked towards the backyard, where they saw white banners and hemp cloth everywhere. The Seven Stones Sect disciples who were entertaining guests walked by silently with their hands at their sides. A few people's mourning clothes were similar to those of Ningdu, but different from the others. When they saw her walking with Xuansheng, they couldn't help but cast curious glances at her. The other older people had a rough idea of who the newcomers were, and their eyes were like knives as they were cast at the second young master of Half Moon City.

Before the spirit tablet at the Dengxian Pavilion in the garden, two long white curtains hung down like waterfalls. Five children stood on either side, some helping those who came to pay their respects to offer incense, some adding oil to hang the curtains, some serving paper money, and some assisting the elderly. At the edge of the mourning hall, a dozen monks were chanting Buddhist scriptures, while below, dozens of people supported each other, wiping away tears and weeping. Upon seeing this scene, Xuan Sheng suddenly froze at the doorway. His face, already pale and bluish from his wounds, was now deathly white, almost indistinguishable from the surrounding colors.

He wanted to take a step forward, to get closer to where Shuangjing was, but he had neither the courage nor the strength.

It's as if seeing such a scene is tantamount to admitting that it's all real.

But... the person in front of me is Shuang Jing.

He could almost see that woman's radiant smile again, her eyes crinkling as she waved and acted coquettishly towards him.

He instinctively reached out to grab her, but his hand missed its mark.

My arms are outstretched, but there's nothing there, just emptiness, desolation, and a bone-chilling cold.

"Xuansheng?" Ningdu, seeing his reaction, called out to him and gave a wink to the boy beside him, signaling him to call Anxing over.

But the man didn't react. He just looked at the mourning hall blankly and frowned involuntarily.

Shuangjing definitely wouldn't like that kind of place.

If it were her funeral, it should have been by a lakeside stream, amidst blooming flowers, quietly resting on a small boat, drifting away into the unknown future. Life and love were a reckless adventure for her, so death should have been the same. Not this solemn, formal funeral, with so many people grieving and weeping, would have made her departure restless.

Taking another step forward, Xuan Sheng felt as if he was about to suffocate because there was no air in his chest. He felt an indescribable pain spreading from his chest, and the pain that he had not felt before seemed to be thousands of times more severe. He was unable to stand up and fell to the ground on one knee.

"Xuansheng?" Anxing, who had received the news from Ningdu, rushed over, followed by other disciples of the Seven Stones Sect. Seeing this, she asked in astonishment:

"...What are you doing kneeling in front of Uncle Liu's mourning hall? Do you even know him?"

Ning felt her face was about to contort unbearably from trying to hold back her laughter.

After about half an incense stick's time, Xuan Sheng slowly turned his head.

"What?" What did she just say?

Seeing his pale face and the lingering grief between his brows, and noticing his sister standing to the side with a stiff and distorted expression, An Xing roughly understood what had happened. He couldn't help but sigh deeply and said, "The deceased was Uncle Liu, the head steward of the Seven Stones Sect. He was the third-generation steward of the Ye family... A few days ago, he passed away due to a serious illness caused by certain matters." He couldn't help but frown again: "You knew him?"

“I…” Xuan Sheng was stunned for a long time before he could barely utter such a word, but his mind was in a daze and he couldn’t figure it out: “I… don’t know him.”

"Then why are you half-kneeling and half-sitting here?"

"I...I thought..." I thought Ye Shuangjing was lying there lifelessly. The words had just popped into his mind when he suddenly felt a sense of relief, only then realizing that the burning wound on his chest was throbbing with pain.

"He thought it was the sect leader's funeral," Ning Du said irresponsibly, fanning the flames with a gloating expression.

Upon hearing this, the dozen or so disciples standing behind An Xing all frowned.

"Alright, alright, I understand." An Xing rubbed her temples and frowned. "Even if our sect leader is unwell, there's no need for you to curse people like this. It seems you have a habit of kneeling and bowing without even looking at the memorial tablet." Seeing Xuan Sheng turn his head to look at the mourning hall and then turn back with a twitching face, she waved her hand impatiently. "Never mind, never mind. Someone, help the second young master of Half Moon City to the main hall, and then quickly call a doctor to examine his injuries. Everyone else, take your positions. I have something to discuss with the young hero."

On the way home, even if we meet again, we might not recognize each other.

"Alright, alright, I understand." An Xing rubbed her temples and frowned. "Even if our sect leader is unwell, there's no need for you to curse people like this. It seems you have a habit of kneeling and bowing without even looking at the memorial tablet." Seeing Xuan Sheng turn his head to look at the mourning hall and then turn back with a twitching face, she waved her hand impatiently. "Never mind, never mind. Someone, help the second young master of Half Moon City to the main hall, and then quickly call a doctor to examine his injuries. Everyone else, take your positions. I have something to discuss with the young hero."

“Sister…” Ningdu stamped her foot and pouted, her brows furrowed with anger: “Just let him go like that? He was only scared a little. Does he think that makes up for the pain our sect leader has endured over the past five years by feeling sorry for him and feeling sad and regretful? Isn’t that too easy on him?”

"Stop causing trouble. The sect leader knows perfectly well what's wrong with the second young master." An Xing glanced at the man still standing there, who was covered in yellow dust and sand, clearly having traveled a long and dusty journey. His blue robe was stained with a large patch of blood on the chest, but he seemed oblivious, staring blankly ahead, his eyes unfocused but filled with a mixture of ecstatic joy and relief. An Xing then turned to his sister and said, "If something happens to him, it'll be our man who's heartbroken. Don't interfere. Leave this to me."