With those words, the atmosphere that had barely begun to ease snapped taut once more.
Xie Zhongchu's expression soured. He chuckled twice, voice dropping low. "I see I've grown old, but I wasn't aware it had become General Lu's responsibility to suppress lawsuits and release prisoners in Cangshi City."
"Oh." Lu Xiangze nodded with mock solemnity. "Would you prefer I summon the county magistrate to reprimand you publicly before you'll order your subordinates to comply? Sect Master Xie has rather peculiar preferences."
Xie Zhongchu's eyes sharpened to points, boring into his opponent.
Lu Xiangze responded with casual indifference. "If you possess the courage, send someone to report me."
The young general behind him kicked a wide chair forward with his toe. Lu Xiangze settled into it with legs spread in a relaxed posture, placing one hand on the table. He compared heights with a mocking gesture. "Such a towering pile of memorials arrives daily denouncing me—all meaningless drivel. I'm pleased about our recent victory and sympathize with Cangshi's people suffering under bandit raids, so I took the initiative to lead troops in their suppression. It's entirely reasonable and justified to clear a few obstructions during an emergency. His Majesty still maintains faith in me."
Song Huiya found the exchange tedious, having no interest in their personal feud. She'd begun to leave when gossip from nearby scholars arrested her attention. Her eyelids twitched, feet rooting themselves to the ground.
"The border war only just concluded, with soldiers and horses exhausted, yet General Lu rushed to Cangshi City in such haste. Could he harbor a grudge against Sect Master Xie?"
"At most, he looks down on him—hardly takes him seriously enough for grudges. I suspect he made this arduous journey primarily for Song Huiya."
The scholar shifted to sit beside his friend, tea bowl in hand. After moistening his throat, he glanced around to ensure the martial artists' ears weren't keen enough to intercept his words before explaining solemnly. "Few common folk know this, but rumors have circulated in martial circles that General Lu also found shelter in Buliu Mountain during his youth. Buliu Mountain's population has dwindled significantly—supposedly countable on one hand. Regardless of whether his relationship with Song Huiya is currently good or bad, they certainly shared fellowship as fellow disciples."
"I see!" His friend experienced sudden enlightenment. "No wonder! I'd been wondering why Lu Xiang... General Lu, despite achieving fame at a young age with outstanding military exploits, doesn't seem to receive greater appointments..."
The scholar fixed him with a stern look, pressing his lips together in a silencing gesture.
His friend immediately lowered his voice, chastising himself. "What a shame."
Song Huiya leaned lightly against the wall.
Covering his mouth, the friend inquired, "I've never heard Song Huiya had any friends. I assumed she had no family to rely upon—that she'd killed so many people she'd amassed nothing but enemies across the realm."
"Precisely. Song Huiya recognized her reputation's notoriety, so she voluntarily defected from Buliu Mountain and severed ties with her master. No matter how desperate her circumstances became these past years, she never once mentioned her former companions. You could call her a woman of iron."
"If Song Huiya had truly proven inferior in skill and died due to martial world vendettas, there'd be nothing more to say. After all, she chose her own path. But observe this situation—it's clearly a case of overwhelming numbers crushing one person. To kill one Song Huiya requires mobilizing half the martial world, all righteously brandishing the banner of justice. Isn't it absurd? Even setting that aside, killing her is one matter, but what kind of behavior is this, searching mountains and plains for her corpse? It's simply excessive!"
His friend echoed indignantly, "Far too excessive!"
After speaking, he reconsidered with suspicion. "However, isn't it said throughout the streets that Song Huiya enjoys killing innocent people? I might as well doubt her claims of loyalty..."
Before he could finish, Lu Xiangze's voice suddenly cut through the crowd with increased volume. "When has my senior sister ever killed innocent people?"
Both scholars paled, souls nearly fleeing their bodies. They hastily reorganized the items on their table, simultaneously reaching for the teapot. Gripping it with both hands, they feigned composure while pouring water for each other with trembling fingers.
The assembled martial artists looked around in confusion, unable to identify whom he'd been addressing. Instead, they registered profound shock that Lu Xiangze dared publicly acknowledge Song Huiya as his senior sister.
The young general behind Lu Xiangze inquired with evident sarcasm, "Who made that claim? Could it have been Sect Master Xie himself?"
"You fool, mind your words! Do you also wish to perish at Wumingya?" Lu Xiangze scolded, then continued with loaded meaning. "Sect Master Xie commands high trust and maintains an upright reputation. He's always been renowned for benevolence. How could he commit such acts that tarnish someone's innocence? Nevertheless, I find myself quite curious—why hasn't Sect Master Xie offered a few more words in my senior sister's defense?"
The hall filled with whispers that grew increasingly tumultuous. Xie Zhongchu raised his hand in signal, and the voices gradually subsided.
Xie Zhongchu's face no longer bore its former kindness. Only the fierceness accumulated through years of martial world wandering remained. He replied, "The Yangjiazhuang massacre—the coroner's examination of injuries, witness testimony, the deceased's final words—everything points toward Song Huiya. I don't know how else to explain it."
Lu Xiangze slammed his palm against the table, speaking bluntly. "Everything requires substantiation through solid evidence. These so-called final words and oral testimony constitute nothing but Hu Mingshen's one-sided statements. My senior sister killed him, and now he's dead without ability to provide proof. As for the so-called wounds—they merely indicate sword injuries, yet you claim my senior sister committed the murders. So in Sect Master Xie's eyes, is my senior sister the world's sole sword expert?"
Xie Zhongchu remained unmoved, expression conveying helpless disbelief. He smiled bitterly. "General Lu says so. Even if I possessed eloquence itself, I couldn't convince you."
Lu Xiangze waved his hand dismissively. "No need to convince me. You martial world people have always disliked dealing with government authorities, so you close your eyes and ears while clinging stubbornly to your own opinions. What reasoning could you possibly produce to convince me? Numerous crimes were fabricated against my senior sister. Even when the actual perpetrators were discovered afterward, Hu Mingshen secretly suppressed the information, preventing its dissemination. Sect Master Xie and Hu Mingshen were sworn brothers—willing to face life and death together. He must know the inside story, correct? Why don't you sympathize with my senior sister's injustice, instead spreading rumors that she possesses excessive bloodlust?"
Everyone exchanged confused glances, questioning one another.
Xie Zhongchu flatly retorted, "I don't know. I've never heard of this."
Lu Xiangze clapped his hands, laughing. "Excellent, excellent! Even if Sect Master Xie remains spotless, how many crimes have been attributed to Song Huiya throughout the martial world over these years—many of them groundless rumors? I believe you all recognize this. After all, my senior sister has rendered great service to this realm's people. With your reputation, Sect Master Xie, had you been willing to speak a few favorable words, even the cats and dogs in the streets wouldn't face false accusations designed to eliminate my senior sister as swiftly as possible."
Lu Xiangze stroked his blade, raising his head to look from bottom to top, fierce intent and murderous purpose gleaming in his eyes.
"What's the saying? 'Is it permissible to make assumptions about something without seeing it with your own eyes or hearing it with your own ears?'" His face displayed undisguised contempt and mockery. "Shouldn't a flawless gentleman like Sect Leader Xie conclude, 'Permissible'?"
Xie Zhongchu, ever mature and measured, began with regret, "To make such accusations—"
Lu Xiangze abruptly stood, cutting him off. Facing the assembled heroes with a dismissive sweep of his gaze, he declared, "I'll say this once: alive, dead, or corpse! But if someone actually unearths my senior sister's body—"
White light flashed like a surging wave as the blade left its sheath. With a thunderous crash, the square wooden table beside Lu Xiangze had been cleanly sheared through one corner.
Lu Xiangze, knife in hand, turned his back to the crowd. He spoke with proud ruthlessness. "Then my senior sister's reputation will be inherited by someone else."
The assembled heroes suffered humiliation and indignation in silence, faces livid, chests swelling with smoldering fury they dared not voice.
Lu Xiangze strode toward the door, sensing a gaze persistently following him from behind. After two steps, he suddenly reversed direction, heading toward the narrow alley beside the inn.
A laurel tree stretched over the earthen wall. The wind blew gently, leaving only a few still-green fallen leaves scattered across the ground.
Song Huiya clung to the wall with one hand, rolling over silently before landing without sound. She straightened her bamboo hat, murmuring thoughtfully, "Junior brother? Huh."
Her heart churned with mixed emotions and doubts. She truly didn't want to become confusedly entangled in those unclear past events. She could only lower her head and walk forward, alone and desolate.
Emerging from the narrow alley, she noticed a paper posted on a drugstore's wooden door facing the street. It advertised "Help Wanted," seeking assistance from all walks of life to ascend the mountain for herb collection.
Song Huiya glanced at it briefly before raising her hand to peel it away.
The sun emerged at noon, and the sky gradually warmed.
On the main northern street of Cangshi City stood a century-old ancient locust tree. Its shade blocked sunlight from the street below, creating a particularly cool, almost chilly atmosphere for those passing beneath.
A young beggar crouched at the intersection of light and darkness, staring intently at a bun stall across the way.
Shortly after, a child emerged clutching copper coins, accepting a steamed bun from the young vendor. Then, obediently, he settled onto a stone block beside the locust tree.
The young beggar licked her lips, rushed forward, and delivered a vicious shove.
The child tumbled to the ground, his bulky winter clothing causing him to roll partway across the dirt, yet he stubbornly kept his hands raised, protecting the food clutched within them.
He sniffled, preparing to stand, when the young beggar lunged forward again, pressing heavily upon him, snatching the food from his hands before fleeing.
She hadn't managed two steps when the child's wail erupted. The beggar felt sudden tightness at the back of her neck. Then her feet left the ground, and she flew backward through the air.
The intervening party had employed skillful force—while the fall appeared heavy, it stemmed primarily from shock. The beggar scrambled to her feet, feeling dazed with only minor scrapes.
A hand pressed down firmly on her head, forcibly turning her around.
Song Huiya said coldly, "Return it to him."
The little beggar's eyes glinted with malice, her heart brimming with unwillingness. She breathed heavily, kneading the steamed bun into a compressed ball with her dust-covered hands before approaching the little boy and roughly stuffing it into his arms.
The child observed the black palm print marring his food and threw it to the ground, wailing at maximum volume, "I don't want it!"
Nearby residents emerged from their homes upon hearing the commotion. The little beggar glanced provocatively at Song Huiya, who fished a coin from her waist and handed it to the child. "Go purchase another. Stop crying."
After apologizing to the woman and dispatching the child, the beggar remained furious, speaking with heavy sarcasm. "Hero, you're so kindhearted—buy me a steamed bun too. I haven't eaten in days!"
"Didn't you steal one?" Song Huiya replied. "If you don't want to eat it, then starve."
"Eat it?" The little beggar smiled sheepishly. "I'm not some celestial being who can survive without sustenance."
She bent to retrieve the discarded bun, patted it perfunctorily, and stuffed it into her mouth. After several bites, she spat out sand. Throughout, she glared at Song Huiya with vicious intensity, as though chewing the woman's flesh.
Song Huiya understood her resentment stemmed simply from feelings of injustice, so she merely stared back expressionlessly.
The little beggar swallowed, her brow relaxing as she smiled ingratiatingly. "Hero, we lowly people don't mind dirty things. If there's anything you don't like, just give it to me. I won't complain!"
Were it not for the deep-seated hostility burning in her eyes, no one would guess sinister malice lurked behind her expression.
Song Huiya regarded her steadily. "You're not convinced?"
The little beggar forced her mouth's corners upward into a sinister smile. "Miss, he has a father and mother. If he eats one less steamed bun, you can ask someone to buy him more. I can't survive unless I steal his things. You're so kindhearted—can you bear watching me starve to death in the streets?"
Song Huiya smiled and nodded. "It sounds reasonable."
"Don't you think so!" the little beggar exclaimed.
"But what does this have to do with me?" Song Huiya's smile cooled perceptibly as she bent down. The little beggar's unnatural, distorted expression reflected in her light brown pupils. Her voice remained flat. "We all act according to our own rules. It's his misfortune to encounter you, and your misfortune to encounter me. What's wrong with that?"
The little beggar could no longer maintain her facade. The fury in her eyes almost condensed into sharp blades. She clenched her fists so tightly they trembled, as though she wanted to slice Song Huiya into pieces with her gaze alone.
Song Huiya pinched her chin, speaking gently. "If I catch you bullying the weak again, I'll teach you a lesson ten times worse. Don't recite your crooked theories to me—I won't buy them. Understood? If you lack the courage, simply endure."
The little beggar belatedly registered burning pain in her palm. She raised her hand, examining the tiny scratches, blowing on them twice before slapping out sand embedded in the wounds. Finally, she calmed.
This girl overflowed with malicious intent, yet possessed sharp intelligence and exceptional skill at deception, leaving no trace. Recognizing she held no position to lose her temper, she employed her unique talent for transforming expressions, adopting a flattering, concerned manner. "Miss, you've misunderstood me. I robbed that child's things, but actually it was more for your benefit! I observed how ill you were last night, having gone hungry for several meals, so I thought to beg something to fill your stomach."
Song Huiya raised her hand, stroking the girl's head while praising her with satisfaction. "You truly are kindhearted."
The little beggar smiled sweetly. "It's all I should do!"
She clenched her fists, punching the air twice while flattering further. "Once your injuries heal, you can resume doing righteous deeds again!"
Song Huiya expressed surprise. "You understand doing righteous deeds?"
The little beggar smiled with practiced innocence. "Everyone speaks of it. It's the best thing anyway, right?"
After finishing, she glanced toward the stall across the street. Song Huiya pretended not to notice, tossing the medicine box from her right hand into the little beggar's arms. "Come with me."
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