The group had been waiting outside the hut for a long time, yet no one had returned.The old man with the cane frowned slightly, his patience thinning.
Beside him stood a richly dressed man — Kong Wulu, steward of Ruoyu Hall, a branch of the Shendu Wang family in Shuzhou. Seeing the elder’s displeasure, Kong quickly tried to explain,
“The girl went up the mountain, Elder. She must be visiting her mother’s grave. Her mother passed recently — she’s likely grieving and unwilling to come down…”
The old man’s brows lifted. “Her mother is dead?”
“Yes,” Kong replied. “A tragic case, really. She fell ill and lost her mind before dying. Before that, she even took a knife and chopped off half her daughter’s finger. The girl was said to be born with a sword bone, but now…”
He trailed off, sighing. “Half a finger gone from the right hand — how could she ever learn the sword again?”
But when the elder’s expression darkened, Kong quickly added, “Still, perhaps that’s destiny in disguise.”
The old man gave no answer. His gaze swept the bamboo fence, where faint bloodstains marred the millstone. His eyes flickered — deep in thought.
Half an hour later, a faint figure appeared amidst the weeds.
One of the guards whispered, “Elder, she’s back.”
All eyes turned toward the path.
Zhou Man walked slowly down the slope. Even from a distance, her calm composure was unnerving. When she reached the yard, her gaze passed over them — cool, measured, detached.
The elder stood in front, Kong Wulu to his right, and behind them a young man in blue and black — lean, scarred, and dangerous.
Before Zhou Man could even step into her yard, Kong Wulu stepped forward and greeted politely, “Miss Zhou Man, forgive the intrusion.”
She gave him a faintly mocking look. “I don’t know you. What business do you have here?”
The old man observed her silently.
Kong Wulu cleared his throat. “I’m Kong Wulu, steward of Ruoyu Hall in Xiao Jian Gucheng. Perhaps you haven’t heard of us, but a few days ago, news spread that you were born with a natural sword bone. We’ve come to discuss this matter.”
As he spoke, a few village women passed by, wooden basins in hand, yet none of them seemed to notice the group. It was as if a veil separated them from the world.
Zhou Man’s eyes narrowed slightly.
The elder smiled faintly. “A small trick — they can’t see us. Our status requires discretion. May we speak inside?”
For a fleeting moment, a glint — perhaps mockery — flashed in her eyes. But it was gone before he could be sure.
Zhou Man finally nodded. “Then come in.”
She picked up the hatchet she had left by the bamboo fence and led them in.
The yard was narrow, the house smaller still. Only the old man, Kong Wulu, and the scarred young man entered. The rest waited silently under the eaves.
Inside, Zhou Man leaned her hatchet against the wall, poured a cup of cold tea, and turned her back to them. Her tone was calm. “So, you’re looking for me. What is it you want?”
The old man felt an inexplicable unease.
Most girls would tremble before such visitors. But she was still as stone — poised, distant, impossible to read.
Still, he reminded himself of his purpose. Straightening, he clasped his hands over the head of his cane and spoke with deliberate solemnity:
“The Wang family of Shendu is gracious enough to lend you our sword bone.”
The soft drip of cold tea stopped.
Zhou Man gripped the teapot, her gaze sinking into the swirling ripples within.
In their shifting reflection, she almost saw the faint, cold curve of her own lips.
How many years has it been? The words echoed again in her mind — unchanged, unaged, haunting.
Silence fell over the room.
With her back turned, motionless and composed, Zhou Man gave nothing away.
Mistaking her quiet for ignorance, Kong Wulu cleared his throat.
“Miss Zhou, you’ve long lived in remote Shuzhou, far from the cultivation world. Perhaps you don’t know—the Wang family of Shendu is—”
“I know,” Zhou Man interrupted coolly.
The words cut through the air like a blade.
Kong Wulu froze. Even the elder before him looked startled.
Zhou Man raised the chipped ceramic cup, took a slow sip of cold tea, and said evenly,
“Three horizontal lines and one vertical form the character Wang. Heaven, Earth, and Man lie beneath the vertical line—the Way that binds them all. Those who command the world are Wang. The Wang family is the head of the three great clans of Shendu. Even in distant Shuzhou, who hasn’t heard of them?”
She set the cup down and turned to face them.
“My humble home has no fine tea. Only cold tea from last night. Would you like some?”
Kong Wulu flustered. “No need, young lady. Since you know the Wang family’s name, you must understand the honor in our offer. If you’re willing to borrow the sword bone, the Wang family will treat you with great—”
Zhou Man frowned. “Borrow it? Why should I borrow it?”
The elder’s face turned grim.
Zhou Man continued, her tone steady but sharp.
“During the city’s talent test, they said only one in ten million is born with a sword bone. Those who have it advance swiftly, master magical tools easily, and can even make famous swords yield to their will. With such gifts, why would I ever lend it away? The sword bone grows on my body. Tell me—how exactly do you plan to borrow it?”
Before they could answer, she gave a soft laugh and crouched to gather a few stray paper offerings from the floor.
“I’ve seen the butcher at the village gate slaughter pigs. One slice drains the blood. Another opens the belly. Then comes the knife for the bones—quick, precise. Pick out the tendons, strip the flesh...”
Kong Wulu blinked uneasily.
The elder spoke gravely, “The sword bone is an engraved bone. With the right technique, it can be removed without endangering life. We know this request is discourteous. But our young master’s fate is ill-starred. Without the sword bone to sustain him, he won’t live long. We ask your mercy, young lady.”
Zhou Man almost laughed. Wang Sha—the one said to ‘speak Heaven’s law and bear the Sage’s fate’? A dying man?
What pity could they offer her now?
Her lips curved faintly. “I don’t know this young master of yours. What does his death have to do with me?”
Her expression was the same as when she’d faced the village bullies — cold and unreadable.
The elder’s gaze hardened. “Then, Miss Zhou, you refuse to lend it?”
“You haven’t given me a reason to agree.”
His hand pressed upon the cane. Instantly, the wind outside fell still.
The apricot branches froze.
An invisible pressure spread — vast, suffocating — filling every breath of air.
Murderous intent.
Even without cultivation, Zhou Man felt it. Her pulse quickened, but her eyes never wavered.
Kong Wulu’s hand flew to his sword. The young man beside him shifted his stance, ready to strike.
Yet Zhou Man only smiled.
“If lending it were that easy, wouldn’t you have brought someone to kill me and take it by force?”
The old man froze mid-motion.
She went on softly, “You came all this way, pleading instead of killing. That means you can’t take it by force. Which makes me wonder—who is truly at a disadvantage here?”
“Do you dare threaten us?” Kong Wulu snapped, unsheathing his sword halfway—
—but before the blade cleared, the old man’s rattan cane lashed out, striking the sword back into its sheath.
Kong Wulu staggered backward, stunned.
The old man sighed. “Manager Kong spoke rashly. I was careless. Please, forgive us.”
Kong bowed hastily. “It was my fault, Miss Zhou.”
The young man behind him lowered his hand in silence.
Zhou Man said nothing.
The elder studied her. “You said we gave no reason worth agreeing to. So, if we provide one—does that mean you might consider it?”
Zhou Man met his eyes. “And you are?”
“My surname is Wei,” he replied with quiet dignity. “Wei Xuan, elder of the Wang family.”
Zhou Man’s lips curved. “Then, Elder Wei—let’s talk terms.”
The old man blinked, momentarily taken aback by her shift in tone.
Even his men looked stunned.
Wei Xuan, regaining composure, nodded. “Are you serious, young lady?”
Zhou Man raised her right hand, showing the broken finger.
“Since this was cut off, swordsmanship will always be flawed for me. Others covet the sword bone, but for me, it’s like a chicken rib—tasteless, yet hard to throw away. So yes, let’s make a deal.”
Relief softened Wei Xuan’s face. “Very well. What are your terms?”
“Three conditions,” Zhou Man said.
“Anything within the Wang family’s power, we shall grant.”
“First,” she said, “I want a top-tier cultivation technique.”
Wei Xuan replied instantly, “Granted. The Wang family’s Langhuan Treasure Hall holds countless techniques. You may choose as many as you wish.”
“Second,” Zhou Man continued, “I want spirit stones and elixirs. A cultivator needs wealth and resources to survive.”
“That is only natural,” Wei Xuan agreed.
Zhou Man nodded slowly. “Then the last one.”
He smiled faintly. “Name it.”
“I heard the Sword Pavilion of Mount Shu is revered by all who seek the Way. If the one you wish to save isn’t in a hurry, I ask for one year’s grace — and a recommendation to study sword there.”
For a heartbeat, the room went utterly silent.
Then Kong Wulu and the young guard both turned, eyes wide with disbelief.
Even Elder Wei’s composure cracked.
He stared at her, half-suspecting his ears had deceived him.
“You said… learn sword? At the Sword Pavilion?”
Previous/Next
Comments
Post a Comment