Chapter 465: Borrowing a Sword

Zheng Fan pushed open the door to the neighboring courtyard and found the Sword Maid squatting there planting vegetables.

The courtyard was not as large as the grounds of a grand residence, but this was still a house beside Count Pingye Residence and it had its own enclosing wall. Rather than paving every inch with brick or stone, leaving a patch of soil for vegetables was simply good household management.

There was also a chicken coop now. Three chickens strutted around with chests puffed out, patrolling the yard with impressive solemnity.

The Sword Saint sat on a stool in the middle of the courtyard, carving wooden swords. More than a dozen rough sword blanks already lay beside him. They were only the basic shapes for now. Fine patterns still needed to be carved into them, and several strips of cloth nearby showed that tassels would be added afterward.

“What are these for?” Zheng Fan asked.

The Sword Saint looked up.

“Dahu can take them to the schoolhouse and sell them. They’re cheap, but the money helps with household expenses.”

“Oh.”

Count Zheng swept his gaze around and saw no second stool. He walked behind the Sword Maid, who was still squatting over the vegetable patch, and lightly kicked her.

“Bring me a stool.”

The Sword Maid had never imagined Count Zheng would genuinely put his foot on her. She toppled forward with a thump and landed on her knees in the dirt.

She said nothing. She simply stood, brushed the dirt from her knees, went inside, and brought out a stool for him.

Then she squatted back down and prepared to continue planting.

The stool was somewhat high. Count Zheng tipped it onto its side and sat so that he was roughly level with the Sword Saint.

“Tea.”

The Sword Maid rolled her eyes, but still stood, poured hot water into a large bowl, and handed it to Zheng Fan.

This time she did not immediately return to the vegetable patch. She remained standing nearby.

Count Zheng took a sip.

“Pastries.”

“We don’t have any,” the Sword Maid answered.

“Go buy some.”

“No silver.”

“Tell them I want to eat.”

“Fine. But I’m taking extra.”

All the shops in Snow Sea Pass belonged, one way or another, to Count Pingye Residence. If Count Zheng wanted something to eat, there was hardly any reason for him to pay.

“Go ahead.”

The Sword Maid walked to the water vat by the gate, scooped out half a ladle to wash her hands, dried them, shoved both hands into her pockets, and swaggered out.

Throughout all this, the Sword Saint continued patiently carving his wooden sword.

Count Zheng asked:

“Where’s Dahu?”

“At the schoolhouse.”

“Sister-in-law?”

“At the workshop.”

“Granny?”

“Sweeping the back street.”

After answering, the Sword Saint looked up with some curiosity. A moment later, realization appeared on his face.

“Oh. This time you didn’t send anyone ahead to scout the place.”

In the past, Count Zheng had always chosen times when no one else was home before coming to visit the Sword Saint.

“I felt like coming, so I came.”

He had originally rushed underground believing Sha Tuo Queshi had awakened, only to discover it had been a false alarm. Still disappointed, Count Zheng had wandered over here instead.

“I heard you abducted a Princess from Chu?”

“Mm. I’ll bring her over tomorrow so you can meet her.”

The Sword Saint shook his head.

“No. I can’t afford the meeting gift.”

“Now you’re acting distant.”

“Am I close to her?”

“To whom?”

“To the Princess.”

“That’s better. Besides, the value of the gift doesn’t matter. It’s the thought that counts. She’s been surrounded by precious things since childhood. What hasn’t she seen?

“I think one of these wooden swords would do perfectly.”

“Fine. I’ll carve a separate sword for a woman.”

“Swords come in male and female now?”

“Don’t people?”

“Fair point.”

The Sword Saint continued working.

“How was Chu?”

“Bad.”

“You came back perfectly well.”

“It was dangerous.”

“You’re afraid of danger?” Before Count Zheng could answer, the Sword Saint nodded to himself. “Right. You are.”

“Of course.”

“But at least you returned safely. All your arms and legs are still attached.”

Count Zheng sighed.

“What choice do I have? So many soldiers and civilians throughout Snow Sea Pass are counting on me to live. Personally, I don’t care much about myself, but for their sake I have to learn to treasure this body.”

The Sword Saint chuckled.

“So that was the groundwork.”

“Was anything I said wrong?”

“No. It was simply shameless.”

“How so?”

“You mean that without you, all the soldiers and civilians of Snow Sea Pass would stop being able to live?”

“Obviously.”

“Without you, the Savages would invade the pass again?”

“Plain as day.”

“Without you, my little household here would disappear?”

“At the very least, it wouldn’t be living this comfortably.”

“Zheng Fan.”

“Mm?”

“Do you know what I used to despise most?”

“Tell me.”

“Emperors and high officials who call themselves the Son of Heaven or pillars of the state. They are terrified of death, yet insist on inventing grand excuses for it, claiming the realm rests upon their shoulders or that the court cannot function without them.

“But no matter who disappears from this world, the sun will still rise from the east tomorrow.”

“The sun does not need to eat or drink. It does not fall sick, feel pain, hate, or love.”

The Sword Saint opened his mouth, then discovered he had no immediate rebuttal.

Finally, he could only shake his head and sigh.

“I understood long ago that I only know how to use a sword. When it comes to words, I cannot beat you.”

“I’m afraid of dying.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“But I’m not afraid when I’m at war, because on the battlefield I’m surrounded by soldiers loyal to me.”

“Mm.”

“What frightens me most is walking alone somewhere and suddenly having some expert jump out of nowhere. One moment I’m alive, and the next I’m dead.

“Old Yu.”

“Mm?”

“I, Zheng Fan, count as somebody now, don’t I?”

The Sword Saint nodded.

“You do.”

“For someone like me, dying on a battlefield would be one thing. I could probably even arrange to die magnificently. But if I’m walking down a dark road and some bastard cracks me over the head from behind and kills me, wouldn’t that be unbearably humiliating?”

“You mean I should give you one sword stroke right now so at least your death will be worthwhile?”

“You know that isn’t what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean.”

“Then why keep circling around it?”

The Sword Saint put down his carving knife and patted both legs.

“I’m a cripple now.”

“That doesn’t matter. A starved camel is still bigger than a horse. If you stay beside me, you may not even need to draw your sword. Your name alone could frighten people to death.”

“And if I do need to draw it?”

“How many ‘ifs’ can there really be?”

“If one actually happens and some nameless desperado rushes us, wouldn’t that simply change things from you dying a humiliating death alone to both of us dying humiliating deaths together?”

The Sword Saint looked at Zheng Fan with perfect seriousness.

“I, Yu Huaping, count as somebody too, don’t I?”

“Hey.”

“Wouldn’t it be humiliating if I died at the hands of some nameless jianghu outlaw?”

“Tsk.”

The Sword Saint resumed carving.

Count Zheng remained seated, slowly drinking from the bowl.

The Sword Maid returned carrying so many bags of pastries that the stack rose higher than her head.

“This one has meat floss. Dahu likes it. This one has almonds for Master’s wife. These are peach crisps for Granny...”

The Sword Saint stopped working and watched as the Sword Maid sorted the pastries into separate piles, then carried them into the house one by one.

Count Zheng finished his water and set the bowl aside.

He stood, preparing to leave.

The Sword Saint spoke.

“Next time you go out, I’ll go with you.”

Count Zheng, who had only just risen, sat straight back down.

“More water!”

“Coming!”

The Sword Maid wiped the sweat from her forehead, ran over, grabbed the bowl, and went to refill it.

Very soon she returned with the bowl in one hand and a piece of sachima in the other. She handed the water to Zheng Fan, then took an enormous bite from the pastry.

“Let sachima sit for a while,” Count Zheng advised. “Once it goes soft and chewy, it tastes better.”

The Sword Maid rolled her eyes.

“What a waste of good food.”

“Fine.”

Humming a little tune as she ate her sachima, the Sword Maid picked up her small shovel with the other hand and happily squatted down to continue planting vegetables.

At that moment, someone knocked on the courtyard door.

The most irritating part was that the visitor stood outside knocking even though the door was not closed, refusing to simply push it open and enter.

The Sword Maid angrily put down her shovel, stood, and ran to answer it.

Her first glance fell on the visitor’s sword.

Her second fell on his legs.

Her third fell on the chicken and duck he was carrying.

The visitor’s surname was Chen.

His given name was Daxia.

Hero Chen.

One could say that during Count Zheng’s journey through Chu, Hero Chen had provided enormous help.

Yet Hero Chen had still followed Siniang’s group all the way back to Snow Sea Pass cheerfully, looking exactly as usual, neither conflicted nor melancholy.

There were three reasons.

First, that place had been Chu.

Second, he had indeed delivered Master Yao’s letter.

Third, he owed Zheng Fan.

Hero Chen’s world had always been that direct and simple, carrying a kind of plain sincerity.

For example, he had come to visit the Sword Saint while carrying a chicken in his left hand and a duck in his right.

The Sword Maid motioned for him to enter.

Count Zheng pointed toward him.

“Look. This is the very Hero Chen I was praising to you just now.”

The Sword Saint merely raised his head, glanced at Hero Chen once, and said nothing.

The Sword Maid, however, understood Hero Chen’s intention almost immediately.

She jerked her chin toward the ground.

“Put them down.”

“All right.”

Hero Chen released the chicken and duck. The chicken quickly merged into the flock already living in the Sword Saint’s yard.

A moment later, all the chickens began chasing the single duck.

The Sword Maid pointed toward the water vat beside the gate.

“We’re out of water.”

“All right.”

Hero Chen said nothing else. He picked up the buckets and immediately left to fetch water.

Once Hero Chen was gone, the Sword Maid said:

“Master, I think that man is very strong.”

The Sword Saint nodded.

“He’s just a little stupid.”

Count Zheng immediately corrected him.

“That is called purity.”

The Sword Saint grunted.

“Right. Purely stupid.”

“Old Yu, if you can teach him, then teach him a little. You don’t want everything you know disappearing from the world, do you?”

The Sword Maid, who had just started squatting down again, immediately became unhappy.

“Count, you still have me!”

“You’re going to marry someday.”

“...”

The Sword Maid stared at him.

“Old Yu...” Zheng Fan prompted.

The Sword Saint sighed.

“I can teach him.”

Count Zheng smiled.

“Then I won’t accompany you when you travel.”

“Mm. Hero Chen has excellent comprehension. I believe every sword beneath Heaven is unique. He ought to find and walk the road that belongs to him.”

The Sword Maid stuck out her tongue and dug into the soil with her little shovel.

“Good. You keep working. I’m going back to rest. I haven’t had a truly peaceful sleep in a long time. Sleeping at home is still the most comfortable.”

Count Zheng rose.

The Sword Saint continued carving wooden swords.

The Sword Maid continued planting vegetables.

His departure was no different from his arrival. Nobody welcomed him, and nobody saw him off.

Yet simply knowing that the Sword Saint was sitting here made Count Zheng feel safe.

After Count Zheng left, the Sword Maid continued turning the soil.

“Master, are you really going to serve as his bodyguard next time he goes out?”

The Sword Saint nodded.

“He can’t die yet.”

“Why not?”

“If something happens to him now, then when my disciple turns eighteen, who will they kill to take revenge?”

...

Count Zheng returned to the residence and headed directly into the rear compound. Then he turned aside toward Tian Tian’s rooms.

Tian Tian was sitting on the bluestone pavement, basking in the sun while playing with the Demon Child.

The moment he saw Zheng Fan, Tian Tian became visibly excited. Supporting himself with both hands, he stood with some difficulty and toddled toward him.

Zheng Fan bent down and lifted his godson.

“Oh. Much heavier.”

“Giggle, giggle...”

“Why are you wearing so many layers?”

Count Zheng took one outer garment off him.

After playing with Tian Tian for a while, Zheng Fan went to the ice cellar.

Liang Cheng was already there, holding a flower-watering can and pouring blood over A’Ming.

Count Zheng leaned against the ice-cellar entrance and quietly admired the scene.

Liang Cheng set the watering can down.

“Master, please be at ease. A’Ming’s condition is already improving.”

“That isn’t what I was thinking. I simply find the scene before me rather beautiful. Unfortunately, paint is difficult to work with in this cold. Otherwise, I would genuinely like to paint it.”

“Paint?”

“Mm. There’s a term I think fits this scene perfectly.”

“What term, Master?”

“An ice fetish.”

Liang Cheng frowned for a moment, then smiled.

Indeed.

It was absurdly fitting.

“Master, after dinner I’ll report on the army’s training and reorganization. The Blind Man also has matters he needs to report. It’s too cold here. Master should go back upstairs.”

“It’s fine. I happen to need cooling off.”

Zheng Fan sat on a block of ice nearby.

Earlier, Liu Ruqing had stirred up a fire in him while he was bathing, only for Sha Tuo Queshi’s sudden movement to interrupt everything.

Now that he was back inside the residence, Liu Ruqing’s shy appearance kept resurfacing in his mind, and that nameless heat began rising again.

It was perfectly normal.

He practiced martial arts in this life. As a Sixth Grade Martial Artist, Count Zheng’s physical condition was far superior to an ordinary man’s.

In the past, he had also enjoyed Siniang’s “needlework.”

But from the wedding day until now, so much time had passed that Count Zheng had not tasted meat in a very long while.

Better freeze himself first.

Cool down.

Once he was shivering, the problem would solve itself.

The mighty Count Pingye having to use this method to “lower the temperature” was something nobody would believe if word got out.

...

“He never touched you?”

“Ah? Elder Sister, no.”

“No. I mean, he never asked you to help with a little needlework or anything?”

“We were fleeing for our lives. When would there have been time to mend clothes?”

Hearing that answer, the corner of Siniang’s mouth curved upward.

Master really had suffered.

At that moment, Siniang sat in the seat of honor inside a bedroom chamber.

Her hidden injuries had not yet healed, but she remained as alluring as ever. She was the kind of woman who somehow maintained her beauty under any circumstances.

Xiong Liqing sat beside her.

From the moment the Princess reunited with Siniang, she had correctly placed herself and never attempted to elevate her standing through her status as a Princess.

Below them knelt Liu Ruqing.

She was not kneeling directly on the floor, but upon a cushion.

In an ordinary household, that would indeed be the position of a concubine.

But Siniang had not ordered her to kneel.

Liu Ruqing herself had insisted.

After leaving the Fan Clan and entering Count Pingye Residence, Liu Ruqing felt deeply inferior.

She was already a widow and had lost the Fan Clan’s protection. Now she was, in effect, Count Pingye’s concubine.

Even the Great Chu Princess could only sit in the secondary place here, willingly calling the beautiful woman above her “Elder Sister.”

Then what did Liu Ruqing possess?

What capital did she have to compare?

Siniang spoke.

“Come. Raise your head and let me look at you again.”

Liu Ruqing obeyed.

Siniang studied her carefully, then turned toward the Princess.

“What do you think?”

The Princess sighed.

“Everyone is prettier than me.”

Siniang shook her head.

“But the way you say ‘This Princess’ is something no one else can imitate.”

Xiong Liqing remained somewhat bewildered and did not immediately understand the implication.

Liu Ruqing’s face, however, flushed again.

“Tsk, tsk. She really is a little enchantress,” Siniang praised. “Delicate and graceful, with such a gentle, peaceful temperament.”

Liu Ruqing lowered her head.

“Elder Sister is the most beautiful.”

Siniang smiled.

“Get up. Don’t let the Count come back and see this scene, or he’ll think we’re bullying you.”

“Before the two Elder Sisters, how could this servant have any right to sit?”

Siniang looked at her.

“So you deliberately want the Count to return and see you kneeling here?”

“This servant would not dare. I would not dare.”

Liu Ruqing immediately stood, walked to a chair, and sat down carefully.

She occupied only the very edge of the seat. Her posture resembled a green willow growing along a riverbank, roots on land while its body leaned out above the water.

“Where are you living now?” Siniang asked.

“In a side room.”

Siniang shook her head.

“That won’t do. There’s no need to wrong yourself. Later I’ll have Xiao Yibo prepare a separate courtyard for you.

“You may arrange the furnishings, flowers, and plants however you please. But your maidservants and attendants must be assigned through me.

“That isn’t because I want people watching you. It is for the security of the residence.”

“This servant would not dare ask for anything. I am already a withered willow. Having any place at all within this residence fills me with gratitude. How could I dare expect more?”

“Withered willow? That’s a point in your favor.”

“What does that mean, Elder Sister?” Xiong Liqing asked.

She had grown up inside an imperial palace. She might hear stories from the various states, but who would ever dare explain this kind of bedroom gossip to a Princess?

“Better that you don’t know.”

Siniang had no intention of explaining it.

Outsiders already loved putting that particular label on Master. There was no need for his own people to help.

“Arrange the courtyard as you like,” Siniang continued. “Make it elegant. That way the Count will have somewhere pleasant to visit when he wants a little diversion.”

“Yes. This servant understands.”

“Take things more lightly. A woman can carry a little melancholy. In the right amount it can be beautiful, even alluring. But brood too heavily and you’ll damage your health.

“Don’t worry. No one here will bully you. We also have no spare time for jealous plotting and inner-house schemes. That would only give outsiders something to laugh at.”

“Yes.”

“You may go.”

“Yes, Elder Sister.”

Liu Ruqing rose, saluted respectfully, and withdrew.

Siniang then turned to the Princess.

“Little Sister, you should choose a courtyard as well. Same rule. Arrange it however you like.”

“All right, Elder Sister. I’ll take my leave.”

Soon only Siniang remained in the room.

A short while later, Count Zheng walked in, breathing warm air into his hands.

Seeing beads of water all over his hair, Siniang immediately rose to fetch a towel.

“You’re injured. Don’t move. I’ll do it myself.”

Count Zheng found a towel and dried his face and hair.

Siniang sat back down and watched him with a smile that was not quite a smile.

Once Zheng Fan finished, he came over and picked up a half-drunk cup of tea. He had no idea who had been drinking from it earlier, but he raised it toward his mouth anyway.

Siniang spoke.

“The Princess may not be some peerless beauty, but surely she’s good enough for a little needlework?”

Count Zheng put down the cup.

“We were fleeing for our lives. How would I have had the mind for that?”

“That isn’t quite right, Master. When people are fleeing and don’t know whether they’ll live or die, the tension is greater. That often makes them want that sort of thing even more as a way to relieve the pressure.”

Zheng Fan looked at her.

“At the time, I didn’t even know whether you were alive or dead. How could I bring myself to do it?”

He had been escaping with the Princess, but the people who had truly carried the danger were Siniang and the others who deliberately drew away the pursuers.

That had genuinely been Count Zheng’s thinking.

A person needed at least some conscience. Otherwise, what separated him from an animal?

Before Siniang could answer, Zheng Fan continued:

“Give Liu Ruqing and the Princess their own courtyards. Keep them as ornamental vases. A’Ming and A’Cheng used to bring back plenty of vases anyway. After a while, everyone got used to it.”

“Master truly wasn’t tempted? Forget the excitement that comes with the identity of a Princess. Even Liu Ruqing makes *me* feel a little tempted.”

“Heh. I never planned on opening some giant harem.”

“Master is afraid of wronging me?”

“Yes.”

“So you intend to keep enduring it?”

“Yes.”

One asked directly.

The other answered just as directly.

“The Princess was something we stole to build prestige. Liu Ruqing was sent here by the Fan Clan without even asking us first. Neither of those really counts as building a harem. Master doesn’t need to feel burdened by it.

“As for this servant, having one noble and one graceful beauty beneath my hands to train should make the days rather interesting.”

“I dislike trouble. I think the way we lived before was perfectly good.”

“It’s just that...”

“Just what?”

“This servant no longer wants things exactly the way they were before.”

Siniang leaned close to Count Zheng’s ear. Her red lips nearly brushed it as she whispered:

“Master, once my injuries have healed a little more, let’s try to have a child.”

————

[End of Chapter 465]