Sealing Sword Chapter 4

Translator: Palvi

---

Chapter 4: Underlying Currents

 

As night fell, the sky was cloaked in darkness, and torrential rain poured down. Within the ancient city of Guyang, not a soul could be seen on the streets and alleys, as every household had shut their doors tightly.

 

In the rear courtyard of Duanshui Manor, the sound of chopping persisted. A ten-year-old boy, dressed in black training clothes, practiced with a wooden sword that seemed too large for him. His steps were awkward and complex, but he continued striking a stone pillar as tall as a man.

 

Despite his delicate appearance, his expression was grim and determined. Even though his entire body was soaked, and his hands were reddened from the force, he continued his swings methodically on the pillar which was covered with shallow white marks and cracks akin to spiderwebs.

 

A man standing under the eaves, draped in a fox fur-lined cloak, coldly watched the boy training in the rain. Suddenly, he raised his hand, and a walnut flew through the rain, striking the boy’s wrist. The boy’s hand trembled from the blow, and his already cracked palms could no longer hold the sword. It fell from his grasp. His lashes fluttered as he bent to pick it up, but before he could, another walnut struck his knee, nearly knocking him over. He barely managed to catch himself on the ground with one hand, narrowly avoiding a full face-first fall.

 

The man under the eaves spoke coldly, “Come inside.”

 

The boy slung the wooden sword over his back, looking like a drenched water monkey as he stood before the man. Obediently, he called out, “Father.”

 

“I’ve told you countless times… A martial artist must not lack strength in the hands, nor should his stance be unstable. You’ve been training for three years, yet you’ve made no progress. How disgraceful!” The man had sharp brows and bright eyes, but his face bore a sickly pallor. He coughed intermittently, looking older than his years, though he was just past thirty. Yet there was a palpable aura of death about him.

 

This was Xie Wuyi, the master of Duanshui Manor.

 

Two years ago, Xie Wuyi’s wife had passed away, leaving him only his son, Xie Li. One might expect that the child to be treated as the flesh of the heart and the pearl on the hand, but in reality, he was more like discarded scraps from a butcher, and if he was a “pearl,” it was a flawed one, mistakenly accepted by a blind pawnshop clerk.

 

Up before the chickens, and to bed later than the dogs—calligraphy and martial arts were like mountains on the boy’s shoulders that he could never shake off. In earlier years, it wasn’t so bad, but for the past two, it had become a torment. Ever since an incident, Xie Wuyi had become increasingly moody, treating his son with extreme harshness. Even the servants couldn’t bear to watch at times, but what right did they have to comment on how the master treated his own child?

 

Xie Li swallowed the words he wanted to say and stood silently, like a toad with breath held deep in its belly. Xie Wuyi scolded him a bit more before finally flicking his sleeve, storming off with a face full of disdain and impatience.

 

After his father left, Xie Li raised his right hand, noticing the blue and purple bruise from the walnut on his wrist. His hand continued to throb and tremble with pain, but he silently rubbed the injury, swallowing his grievances.

 

There was the sound of footsteps approaching and soon Xue Chanyi appeared with a silk handkerchief, wiping his face. She sighed, “Scolded again?”

 

Xie Li remained silent like a sealed gourd, but someone behind Xue Chanyi chimed in, “Poor thing, your master sure doesn’t go easy on you.”

 

The boy’s face turned pale as he realized Xue Chanyi had brought a stranger. This man was dressed in a sky-blue long robe with arrow sleeves, a wide belt at his waist tied with a dark indigo sash. His ink-black hair draped over his shoulders, and his refined features felt as if he had come out of a painting. He seemed about the same age as Xie Wuyi, with a similar build, but where Xie Wuyi appeared withered, this man exuded a carefree air.

 

Earlier that evening, Ye Fusheng had tidied himself up and walked into Duanshui Manor, relying on his silver tongue and thick skin to tag along behind Miss Xue Chanyi. Just as he was about to head to the kitchen for a late-night snack, he overheard that her master was scolding her little junior brother again. Concerned, Xue Chanyi had rushed over, her beautiful face marred with worry. Unfortunately, it was her master doing the scolding, and no matter how upset she was, she couldn’t very well lash out at him. All she could do was sigh while rubbing away Xie Li’s bruises.

 

Miss Xue was only sixteen years old, yet she was already known in Guyang City as the fierce “Nightshade Maiden.” Few knew she had such a tender side. Ye Fusheng found it amusing, and also thought the boy’s stubborn attitude was endearing, so he teased, “Your master sure isn’t gentle.”

 

To his surprise, Xie Li’s expression instantly hardened, his face becoming as cold and stern as his father’s. With utmost seriousness, he said, “Outsiders are not welcome in Duanshui Manor. Who are you to speak ill of the master?”

 

Well now! Ye Fusheng’s eyes twinkled as he squatted down to meet the boy’s gaze. “I’m the newcomer your sister Xue invited with great fanfare.”

 

Xie Li: “…”

 

Xue Chanyi gritted her teeth. “Ye Fusheng! What nonsense are you spouting?!”

 

“Alright, no fanfare, but I am a newcomer,” Ye Fusheng waved his hand dismissively. He then produced a small oiled paper packet from his sleeve, inside of which were neatly cut squares of candy.

 

Before anyone could react, a piece of candy was tossed into Xue Chanyi’s mouth. The rich fragrance of osmanthus filled her senses, and the scolding she had prepared was stuck in her throat. Her almond-shaped eyes flashed with indignation, but the shameless man only smiled apologetically. “Miss, please don’t take offense. This osmanthus candy is freshly made. Have one, sweeten your mouth, and don’t waste your breath scolding. It’s unseemly for a lady to shout.”

 

Xue Chanyi bit into the candy with a crunch, as though she were gnawing on someone’s bones. Yet, her ears gradually turned red. Xie Li was dumbstruck. His small head had never been filled with thoughts of romance, but now he felt like he’d been force-fed a mouthful of flowery nonsense, leaving him thoroughly bewildered.

 

His mouth slightly parted, and Ye Fusheng quickly slipped a candy into it. The spicy yet sweet flavor exploded in Xie Li’s mouth. His face flushed bright red, but his good upbringing prevented him from spitting it out. He painfully chewed and swallowed, his eyes misty, looking utterly pitiful.

 

Xue Chanyi asked, “…What did you just feed him?”

 

“Candy,” Ye Fusheng replied righteously. He then added, “Ginger candy. He’s been out in the rain for so long; how could he not have some ginger candy to ward off the cold?”

 

Xue Chanyi sighed in exasperation, gently patting Xie Li’s head. She bent down and softly told him, “Xiao Li, go back to your room and take a bath. I have something to discuss with this fellow.”

 

Xie Li took a deep breath, trying to wash away the lingering sweet and spicy taste in his mouth. He maintained his stern expression, asking, “Who is he?”

 

“He’s the new guard I hired. Don’t worry.”

 

Only then did Xie Li stomp away with small steps. Ye Fusheng squinted as he watched the boy leave, sighing, “What an obedient child, though he seems a bit too mature for his age.”

 

“Master has always been strict with him.” Xue Chanyi massaged her brow, then said, “I’ve already spoken with the steward. As long as you don’t break the rules or cause trouble, you’re free to move around the manor without having to bend to anyone’s will.”

 

“Miss is most considerate. What is it you wish for me to do?”

 

Xue Chanyi raised her gaze. “I’ll take care of the necessary arrangements. You, in turn, will keep an eye on Xiao Li for me.”

 

Ye Fusheng raised a brow. “Does the young master of Duanshui Manor really need the protection of a wandering vagabond like me?”

 

Never mind the numerous guards and disciples in the manor, just having Xie Wuyi around should be more than enough to protect his own son, shouldn’t it?

 

If that weren’t the case, then the title of ‘The First Blade Under Heaven’ should probably go to someone else.

 

Xue Chanyi didn’t respond but instead asked, “Did you notice anything unusual when you entered the city today?”

 

“I saw many people—Jianghu people,” Ye Fusheng said with a grin, rolling an osmanthus candy in his mouth. “People from all walks of life, mixed in with all sorts of characters. The inns around here are so packed that I had to bribe a servant to let me use a woodshed just to heat water for a bath.”

 

Xue Chanyi’s expression turned cold upon hearing this. “They press closer with every step, just like maggots clinging to bones. How vexing!”

 

Ye Fusheng finished off the remaining candy in one bite, speaking with his mouth full. “Are they targeting the manor, or… Master Xie?”

 

Xue Chanyi’s voice was sharp and frosty. “They’re after the ‘First Blade Under Heaven’.”

 

Ye Fusheng silently chewed on the candy, deep in thought.

 

After a moment, Xue Chanyi took a deep breath and asked, “Have you ever heard of a man named Li Feng?”

 

Ye Fusheng slowly replied, “If you mean the Li Feng from the Zanghun Palace in the Mysterious Ridge, then yes, I’ve heard of him.”

 

Since ancient times, good and evil have never coexisted. The righteous path has its four great sects, and the demonic path is not far behind. In the southwestern borderlands lies a vast, complex valley shrouded in mists, difficult for even birds to navigate—hence its name, ‘Mysterious Ridge’. Nestled deep within this valley is the seat of today’s demonic leader, the Zanghun Palace.

 

The Zanghun Palace is like a ‘Jianghu’ in itself. It harbors not only exiles from the orthodox sects or those with unforgivable crimes but also people from various ethnic groups displaced by war. Some are even descendants of fallen officials, once powerful but now reduced to hiding. The mix of people there is chaotic. Once someone enters the palace, they become like insects trapped in mud, lurking in the mire while severing ties to their past. From then on, they live as nothing more than dogs of the Zanghun Palace.

 

And dogs have no names. Those who are named are the wicked hounds favored by their master.

 

Li Feng, at twenty-five years old, manages the Qinglong Hall of the Zanghun Palace. He was an orphan adopted by the palace master in his youth and is now one of his most trusted aides. Those targeted by Li Feng often end up like prey facing the fiercest wolves of the plains.

 

Xue Chanyi pursed her lips. “The Zanghun Palace has long been active in the southwestern borders. While they have some presence in the Central Plains, they’ve rarely stirred trouble here. However, in recent years, as the wars with foreign tribes have intensified, the palace’s influence has expanded, and they’ve begun shifting their focus to the Central Plains.”

 

“The martial world in Central Plains is a web of complex allegiances, with countless unresolved grudges between the righteous and demonic paths. If the Zanghun Palace makes a rash move, it could set off a chain reaction. So, they need to make an example of someone… uh, I mean, they need to kill one to warn a hundred,” Ye Fusheng coughed lightly, rubbing his sore and numb leg while shaking his head. “Duanshui Manor is a prestigious household in the Central Plains Jianghu. Master Xie, known as the ‘First Blade Under Heaven’, is no easy opponent. But unfortunately…”

 

Xue Chanyi coldly continued, “Unfortunately, after that incident three years ago, the entire Jianghu believes that my master is ruined. The title of First Blade is now nothing but an empty name. This time, the Zanghun Palace has initiated the Strife Conference’ to seize the seven famous blades of the Central Plains’ righteous path. Duanshui’s blade is the fifth.”

 

Ye Fusheng asked, “So, are the Jianghu rumors true, or are they just baseless gossip?”

 

Xue Chanyi didn’t answer immediately but stared at him intently. After a long pause, she finally said, “Ye Fusheng, you’re a smart man. You know what’s going on.”

 

What a murky mess this was. Ye Fusheng sighed and said, “I owe you a debt of gratitude, Miss Xue. Rest assured, I will fulfill my promise.”

 

“Since you’ve given your word, you must follow through,” Xue Chanyi said, her chin slightly raised. Her usual arrogance returned, her cold gaze more menacing than a venomous snake’s. “If anything happens to Xiao Li, even if you burrow deep underground, I will dig up your ancestors’ graves and grind your bones to dust!”

 

——”You must fulfill your promise. Otherwise, I will never rest in peace.”

 

The two voices merged, like a sharp blade stabbing into Ye Fusheng’s heart. His mind buzzed, and his vision blurred, sinking into chaos. The searing pain in his right leg surged, and his face paled instantly. Instinctively, he pressed a hand to his chest, where his silk pouch and jade pendant lay.

 

“What’s wrong?” Xue Chanyi noticed something was off and reached out to steady him. But the dazed man, in his confusion, accidentally brushed her waist. Her almond-shaped eyes narrowed, and she nearly threw him to the ground.

 

Yet the culprit still wore a face of pure innocence, looking as weak and fragile as though he was about to cough up blood. “Cough… cough… My apologies, I can’t see clearly.”

 

Xue Chanyi gritted her teeth. “The Strife Conference starts in seven days. In the coming days, all sorts of people will gather in Guyang City, and Duanshui Manor cannot close its doors to guests. Since you’re half-blind, just stick close to Xiao Li and don’t cause any trouble. Otherwise, you might offend someone you shouldn’t.”

 

Ye Fusheng yawned, spreading his hands. “If that’s the case, Miss, why not have someone take me to the young master’s courtyard? It’s a long night, and I’m quite tired.”

 

Xue Chanyi’s hand twitched with the urge to strike him, her whip at her waist practically itching to lash out.

 

Just then, the sound of hooves echoed in the distance, suggesting a carriage had arrived at the front gate.

 

At such a late hour, and in such a place fraught with tension.

 

Xue Chanyi quickly ordered a servant to escort Ye Fusheng to the rear courtyard, then hurried toward the front gate to greet the guest. Ye Fusheng squinted as they passed through a long corridor, taking advantage of the lanterns’ light to glance back. He saw Xue Chanyi hastily meeting a group of people, led by a man closing a paper umbrella. As the umbrella lowered, it revealed his face.

 

The man appeared young, but there was none of the impulsiveness or naivety of youth in him. Dressed in black, his face seemed unnaturally pale. His eyebrows were as sharp as blades, his eyes deep like a bottomless pool. His features were strikingly handsome, but his thin lips were as red as blood, like a blade poised to strike, sealing the fate of whoever it touched.

 

---

Zanghun Palace (Gong): Literal meaning Soul burying Palace.

Qinglong: Azure Dragon