SS Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Deal

It was only natural for the master of Duanshui Manor to appear in the forbidden area of the Manor.

Ye Fusheng’s current dilemma was that this Manor Master Xie, rather than showing surprise or suspicion, looked at him with a gaze as cold as a blade, indicating that he had learned about his background from Xue Chanyi, and clearly did not trust him.

“Ye… Fusheng?” Xie Wuyi slowly called out his name, his thin lips curving into a delicate blade. “How is the young master?”

“The young master is under the protection of lucky stars and out of dan—” Before Ye Fusheng could finish his sentence, he saw Xie Wuyi twist his wrist, and the flames ignited the paper covering the lantern. In an instant, the paper turned into a fireball hurtling toward Ye Fusheng.

The speed of Duanshui Manor Master’s blade was as fast as a thunderclap, and this strike was naturally extraordinary. As Ye Fusheng took a step back to avoid the flame, Xie Wuyi was already by his side, his well-defined hand gripping Ye Fusheng’s right shoulder. With a burst of force, Ye Fusheng’s already weak right leg was forced to bend at the knee.

Just as Ye Fusheng’s knee was about to hit the ground, Xie Wuyi suddenly felt his grip loosen, and Ye Fusheng slipped away like a slippery fish. Xie Wuyi sneered and pressed forward again, his movements as smooth and soft as flowing water, like being entangled by a water snake, making it difficult to escape.

Circling behind Ye Fusheng, Xie Wuyi locked his throat with one hand and pressed his knee into the bend of Ye Fusheng’s leg. Just as the victory seemed certain, Ye Fusheng suddenly jabbed at Xie Wuyi’s wrist, sending a burst of internal energy that exploded at the joints, causing bone-deep pain. Xie Wuyi’s face turned pale, and in that brief moment, Ye Fusheng twisted his body and slipped out of his grasp.

Both sides moved like a pair of hunting falcons. Only then did the burning lantern fall to the ground, with embers still smoldering.

Xie Wuyi was clearly displeased, and Ye Fusheng fared no better.

He touched his chest, realizing that the embroidered pouch in his bosom had been snatched away by Xie Wuyi during the escape.

Xie Wuyi played with the pouch in his hand and said coldly, “Good technique, good lightness skill… well done!”

“The manor master is equally remarkable. Those three soft moves perfectly encapsulate the ‘entanglement’ technique of Duanshui’s blade style. I am not worthy of comparison. However…” Ye Fusheng stepped forward, “this item was a keepsake from an old friend. I ask the manor master to return it.”

“Return it? The property of Duanshui Manor—why would I not be entitled to it?” Xie Wuyi sneered coldly, taking out a square jade pendant from the pouch. It was a flawless piece of white mutton-fat jade, with an image of Wang Haichao etched on the back, and the front bore an engraved character “Xie,” sharp and distinct.

Xie Wuyi’s fingers traced the engraving slowly, his voice turning hoarse and cold. “This is the token of Duanshui Manor’s master, passed down through generations. It was lost three years ago. I must ask, how did you come to possess it?”

Seeing this, Ye Fusheng showed no fear, but instead became more righteous in his request, extending his hand again: “I told you, it was a keepsake from an old friend, naturally… obtained from a dead man’s hand.”

He said it in a calm tone, but Xie Wuyi’s body trembled violently!

He stood tall like a great tree, long enduring the harsh winds and frost. Even with numerous marks of battle axes and blades, he remained steadfast, yet at this moment, his body shook, as if it was dying from its roots, on the verge of collapse.

The color drained from his face as he unconsciously stepped back two paces, his fingers gripping the jade tightly as he muttered, “Dead… a dead man?”

As he spoke, he could no longer suppress a violent cough, his face flushing with a sickly red.

Xie Wuyi’s health had been poor for the past three years, and now, his coughing shook him like a sieve, his back arching as if about to break, yet slowly straightening again at the critical point.

Ye Fusheng watched him and said, “Yes, the person who gave me this jade is already dead.”

Before the words had even left his mouth, Ye Fusheng swiftly retreated, barely dodging Xie Wuyi’s thunderous palm. This time, it was no longer a test; the Duanshui Manor Master’s palm had turned into a blade. Even though it didn’t touch him, the sharp and fierce blade aura had already sliced through the skin on Ye Fusheng’s neck, leaving a shallow red line.

Just then, a shadow flickered like a ghost, a fist intercepting Xie Wuyi’s next attack, while another hand swiftly pulled Ye Fusheng’s body away, retreating rapidly before stopping and turning.

This unexpected turn of events immediately calmed Xie Wuyi. He took out a fire stick from his sleeve, lighting the lantern on the wall, which illuminated the face of the newcomer. He adjusted his sleeve and said, “Young Master Chu.”

“Manor Master Xie,” Chu Xiwei, now unable to see, turned slightly toward his direction. Earlier, he and Xie Li had been waiting at the enormous stone for Ye Fusheng, who had gone to scout but hadn’t returned for a long time. Relying on his deep internal energy, Chu Xiwei had heard the sounds of fighting through the stone crevice and left Xie Li behind to come watch the action himself.

He released Ye Fusheng and smiled, “Now we’re even.”

This referred to the favor from the incident in the puppet chamber. Ye Fusheng rolled his eyes at the change in fortune and asked, “Where is the young master?”

Chu Xiwei did not answer, but Ye Fusheng’s ears twitched, catching the sound of soft footsteps behind him. Xie Li emerged from the stone crevice, immediately straightening his posture upon seeing Xie Wuyi, respectfully calling out, “Father.”

From Ye Fusheng’s perspective, this “father” was called out with the formality of a subject bowing to an emperor—dignified, not intimate, but very proper.

After calling out “Father,” Xie Li held the Duanshui blade above his head at a distance of half a foot. Xie Wuyi, with a face as cold as water, walked over, took the blade with one hand, and brought the other hand down with a gust of wind, landing a slap on Xie Li’s face.

“Slap—”

The slap was harsh, and Xie Li’s face immediately turned to the side, almost causing him to fall. However, he managed to stay on his feet, though a red handprint appeared on his pale face, swelling visibly. His eyes filled with tears, but he held them back without shedding a single drop.

Ye Fusheng and Chu Xiwei both furrowed their brows. Xie Wuyi, gripping the Duanshui blade, looked down at Xie Li from above and coldly said, “Do you know why I hit you?”

Xie Li shook his head, glancing up at his father, defiant yet aggrieved.

“A man should know when to advance and retreat, to assess the situation, and not be short-sighted or lose sight of the bigger picture. Have I never taught you that?” Xie Wuyi clenched his fist. “Who told you to chase after the blade thief on your own? Who gave you the courage to risk climbing Wang Haichao? Who taught you not to abandon the blade to save your life when you were facing death?”

“But you once said, weapons are the limbs of a warrior, and the Duanshui blade is the Duanshui Manor’s…”

He didn’t finish his retort before another sharp slap rang out. Unable to bear it, Ye Fusheng covered his face, unwilling to watch any further.

“I’d have to say, even though this method might look cruel… this brat deserves a beating.” He covered his face with his sleeve, whispering to Chu Xiwei, “He’s only a few inches taller than that blade, yet he dares to recklessly risk his life. If he were my son or disciple, I’d beat him until he knelt down and wrote ‘I’ll never dare to do it again’ repeatedly.”

Chu Xiwei: “…”

He instinctively touched his face, the corners of his mouth twitching, as if recalling something too painful to remember.

Another slap landed, making the other side of Xie Li’s face flush red. He was stunned by the blow, dumbfoundedly staring at Xie Wuyi.

“That’s right, the Duanshui Blade is the responsibility of the Master of Duanshui Manor, and sooner or later, it’s something you must carry. But…” Xie Wuyi slowly crouched down, staring straight into his eyes, “I’m still alive. How could it be your turn to risk your life?”

“But…”

“Or is it that you’ve also heard the rumors in the Jianghu, thinking that I’m already crippled, unfit to be the Manor Master, unworthy of holding this blade, and that you, a mere child, need to take up the this burden in my place?”

Xie Li frantically shook his head like a rattle-drum, his eyes red, “Father… I never, Father, I didn’t…”

Xie Wuyi looked at him, his cold face showing a rare smile, his gaze deep. He used his free hand to wipe away Xie Li’s tears, and said, “Then remember this: while I’m alive, you only need to focus on growing up. As after my death… all these burdens will naturally be yours. At that time, you must be brave and should not avoid them.”

Finally, Xie Li couldn’t hold back his tears. He had always been an obedient child, never prone to crying, even as a baby. But now, he couldn’t stop himself from clutching Xie Wuyi’s neck, sobbing uncontrollably.

Xie Wuyi let out a sigh, as if in that moment, all the years of his life had slipped away, revealing a rare fatigue and aging, though it was only for a fleeting instant. When he turned around, holding Xie Li, he was once again the cold, indifferent Manor Master of Duanshui.

He said to Chu Xiwei, “Young Master Chu, I agree to the deal. Please relay to Mr. Sun that my mind is made up. Tonight, we will begin the needle extraction and unsealing.”

“Needle extraction and unsealing?”

Ye Fusheng furrowed his brow, puzzled, but said nothing.

“That’s certainly… an unexpected decision,” Chu Xiwei stood with his hands behind his back. “You only have one chance. Manor Master, are you sure?”

Xie Wuyi said, “No need to reconsider. Thank you for your assistance, Young Master. After the grand meeting, the Duanshui Blade will be handed over to you. However…”

Chu Xiwei’s eyes sparkled with interest, “However, what?”

“After A-Li comes of age, he will certainly come to reclaim the Duanshui Blade. I hope by then, Young Master will go easy on him.”

Xie Li’s entire body trembled. He looked at his father in astonishment, not understanding the gravity of these words, but feeling as though an immense weight had just been placed on his shoulders.

Chu Xiwei was momentarily stunned, then smiled, “Whenever he’s capable, he may come and take it!”

“…Thank you.” Holding Xie Li, the candlelight gave a soft glow to Xie Wuyi’s face, showing rare signs of life, and even his eyes had a twinkle in them.

Looking at him Ye Fusheng felt like he was watching a candle about to be extinguished, being rekindled by the eastern wind, burning brightly with its last flicker of life.

He had heard that the real name of the Master of Duanshui Manor was Xie Min. “Min” refers to a type of jade, meaning that a gentleman should be like jade. However, this man pursued the martial path, admired the soldiers of the frontier for their generosity and fortitude, and thus gave himself the courtesy name “Wuyi.”

A man as fine as jade, a blade as stubborn as stone. Jade cannot be shattered, and stone cannot be moved.

But alas… life is not like metal or stone, how can it endure forever?*

Xie Wuyi led them out, walking from the darkness back into the light, as if a lifetime had passed in the blink of an eye.

 

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*Note: “Life is not like metal or stone, how can it endure forever?” is a quote from the Eastern Han poet’s “Nineteen Ancient Poems: Riding a Carriage Away,” written by an anonymous poet.