The letter read:
"Senior Sister,
"The timing is not right. There is no need to rush to kill Hu Mingshen and his son. Xie Zhongchu received the news early and has gathered more than a hundred men to set an ambush in Cangshi. Xie is weak and easily threatened—what Senior Sister said was merely a threat, an empty warning. Even if Senior Sister doesn't come, he'll be too cautious to act.
"Lu Xiangze is entangled in important matters and cannot get away. I have written to him asking for his help. Please wait before moving forward.
"Zhenghong has been gone for some time now. It has been long since we parted, and Ah Mian will arrive in the capital in a few days to request an audience with Senior Sister. I advised him against it to no avail. I hope Senior Sister will reply as soon as possible."
The letter was written in haste, the handwriting elegant and flowing. No signature.
Several creases marked the paper.
"Ahem—"
In late autumn, a heavy rain fell. The north wind ravaged the small courtyard in the capital, and overnight the flowers and trees withered, leaving only desolation on the ground.
On that same day, Song Huiya's reply letter was sent along with news of her death.
Wei Lingsheng sat in his study for half the night. When the lights went out and dawn broke, he developed a high fever that would not subside. He fell into delirium and did not wake for several days.
The servant sat silently beside his bed, bringing hot water to carefully wipe the cold sweat from his forehead. "Master, master?" he called softly.
The lotus leaves in the pond had withered. A continuous drizzle had fallen these past two days.
Trapped in half-dreams, Wei Lingsheng suddenly remembered many old things in the sound of dripping water.
When leaving Buliu Mountain, Song Huiya had carried a long sword on her back and smiled as she advised him: "In the future, when you walk the jianghu, don't tell others that I am your senior sister."
After that, they went their separate ways, their meetings sparse. When they said goodbye, she wore simple, light-colored clothes and smiled the same way: "When junior brother needs it, senior sister is always here."
"I came out from eight hundred miles of snow-capped mountains. As long as I, Song Huiya, am here, no one can kill my junior brother."
"......"
Thunderous lightning rolled across the sky, illuminating the bones beneath the majestic city wall. The torrential rain sounded like wind through valley pines, shattering all voices. Song Huiya's pale fingers pushed a sword into his arms.
"Junior brother, the sky is high and the road is long. You must learn to walk by yourself from now on. Senior sister is tired and needs to rest for a while. Senior sister doesn't remember the way—you must remember to go up the mountain every year to burn incense for Master and Uncle. Go now."
Wei Lingsheng suddenly woke. His throat tasted of blood. He bent over and vomited a mouthful of it.
"Master!" The servant cried out, patting his back.
Wei Lingsheng was fully awake now. His eyes found the table by the window, his right hand resting on the edge of the bed, trembling continuously. In just a few days, he had wasted away completely. Anyone who saw him felt sorrow.
He withdrew his gaze and smiled bleakly. Looking at the servant before him, he said in a weak breath: "Senior sister is dead."
The servant raised his hand to wipe away tears, offering random comfort. "No. Hero Song has heavenly fortune. She's safely weathered so many storms—how could she die so easily?"
"Nothing is stable. She also escaped death several times." Wei Lingsheng's eyes wandered, falling lightly into the distance. He spoke softly to himself: "If she had really wanted me to save her, I would still have hesitated. Xia Qi, am I too heartless?"
The servant choked up. "Master......"
"But how could she die?" Wei Lingsheng trembled in confusion. "How could she really die? She always has a way."
Only at this moment did Wei Lingsheng truly understand—Song Huiya was also a person with only one life.
A boy outside the door brought in a medicine bowl. The servant opened his mouth, able only to offer bland persuasion: "Master, please drink your medicine first."
Wei Lingsheng leaned against the headboard as if he hadn't heard. His eyes fell on the carving of the bed frame. His lips opened and closed silently, muttering something inaudible. Suddenly he began to smile desolately, bitterly, muddled. Until he bent over and coughed so violently it seemed he might stop breathing.
The servant was so frightened his soul scattered. The soup in his hand shook and splashed to the ground.
Commotion erupted outside the door. Guards gathered in chaos, shouting loudly, but not daring to act rashly. They could only raise their swords to block, retreating again and again.
"Stop!"
"Step back!"
"Young master, please leave!"
The visitor wore black clothes and a mask with only eye slits left exposed. He held a stone tablet in his right hand and came from the front yard with menacing purpose.
He strode to Wei Lingsheng's house and threw the tombstone to the ground.
The boulder struck the mud floor, causing the ground to shake slightly.
The young man knocked away everyone's restraining arms, stepped forward violently, and kicked open the wooden door.
The doors and windows that had been closed for days suddenly opened. Cold wind poured back fiercely. The strong smell of medicine wafted out, and the young man frowned.
The servant hurriedly stood in front of Wei Lingsheng.
The young man looked inside and sneered. "Isn't this one awake? Listening to what they said, I thought you had died of illness in bed."
The servant was annoyed and about to explain, but Wei Lingsheng waved him to silence.
The young man sneered, his words even more ruthless: "Why do you erect a monument for my senior sister? You'd better keep this bad luck and make yourself a coffin early. If you die, she can't die!"
Wei Lingsheng said flatly: "I don't care about what happens after Jiuquan, so I don't have to worry about my junior brother."
The young man's Adam's apple rolled. He still pointed sharply: "Wei Lingsheng, don't really die. If you die at this time, I don't know how many people in the world will curse and bury you with her."
Wei Lingsheng was half-leaning on the bed, smiling gently. A trace of blood at the corners of his lips that hadn't been wiped clean added color to his face, making him look much more energetic—still the same as usual, with that disgusting calmness.
"Thank you junior brother for your concern, I'm very good. This fine chess game has just begun. I'm still waiting for my junior brother to enter the game and help me place my pieces."
The young man's shoulders rose and fell as if with resentment. He said uncontrollably: "Yes, you killed people. If you hadn't guided senior sister to kill Hu Mingshen, how could she have gone her own way? After your grand hegemony, how much sincerity can you claim? So don't pretend to be sad. Right now, no one can appreciate your performance."
The servant couldn't stand it and interjected: "Young master came today—if it's just to anger my master, please choose another time. My master has just recovered from serious illness and needs to rest."
"You don't have to see me out!" The man turned angrily. Without stepping half a foot inside, he left one parting sentence: "You might as well huddle in your attic for the rest of your life and dream your hundred-year dreams! Just don't bring my senior sister into it anymore!"
When the door closed tightly and the light dimmed, Wei Lingsheng's body retreated again, his eyes lifeless.
The servant handed him the medicine. He took it and drank it all. His jagged knuckles gripped the porcelain bowl, particularly eye-catching.
The servant reached out to take it, but Wei Lingsheng seemed dulled. Finally he recalled something like a joke: "What future do I have left?"
He threw the bowl to the ground. His left hand hung high as he watched quietly, the corners of his lips raised with an obscure, cruel madness: "But before I die, I must also drag that group of parasites and traitors down to be buried with me."
The servant took a broom and bent his head to sweep away the debris. From time to time he looked up with red eyes at Wei Lingsheng. Seeing that he was no longer in a daze, he pointed to the table, then hurried over to retrieve a letter pressed there.
Wei Lingsheng unfolded the letter. The words were clearly written:
"Junior brother, I was born shallow and vulgar, unlike you who have read poetry and books. I only understand one truth: bend your waist when going against wind and snow, and stand up with a sword.
"I can bow down to shelter the poor from withering.
"There is also a proud body that can stand between heaven and earth.
"Junior brother, I can kneel down and stand up. I don't need you to save me."
"Master......"
The servant slowly squatted down. After thinking again and again, he asked worriedly: "Are you alright? General Lu hasn't written yet—maybe things have changed?"
Wei Lingsheng pinched the letter paper and looked at it for a moment. His eyes were empty, the muscles at the corners of his lips twitching. He said in a low voice: "I'm very good."
The sun had already set in the west.
Song Huiya's eyes wandered in the distant afterglow, her thoughts far away.
The little beggar lifted the pot lid and called out: "Hero, the water is boiling!"
Regardless of the hot steam, she scooped out a bowl of hot water, wet the washed linen cloth, and handed it to Song Huiya first.
Song Huiya didn't take it, so the girl consciously took it back and scrubbed the wound on her face, gasping through bared teeth.
Song Huiya asked: "What do you think I should call you in the future?"
The little beggar said obediently: "Anything is fine!"
"I'll give you a name." Song Huiya bent down and stroked the ground with her fingers, slowly writing two characters. "Zhi Qi."
"Zhi Qi?" The little girl put down the wet cloth and ran over. She tilted her head and read it twice, keeping those words firmly in her heart. Looking up, she asked: "What does it mean?"
Song Huiya patted the dust from her hands and patiently explained: "It means you should not be too reckless in doing things. If you cherish your life, you can live a hundred years."
"Then it might as well be called Hundred Years!" The little girl smiled. "I prefer 'lots of money'—it would be fine to call me that too!"
Song Huiya laughed and shook her head. Standing up, she lifted the girl by her collar. "That won't do. But you actually know what it means to be rich. That's really not easy."
"What's so special about that? I also know resplendent, carved jade, glorious and wealthy!" The little girl shook her head, showing off. Finally she asked: "By the way, Master, what will my surname be?"
Song Huiya didn't notice her form of address and said with a normal expression: "Pick whatever you like."
"I will follow you, Master, and take your surname." The little sparrow paused as she spoke, glancing at her apprehensively from the corner of her eye. She tried again tentatively: "Master?"
Song Huiya said: "My surname is Song."
Song Zhiqi jumped up with joy.
"You're also surnamed Song—so many people in the jianghu are surnamed Song!" She exclaimed theatrically, picked up thin twigs and grabbed them in her hand, waving them wildly. She rushed forward with a smile: "Good! In the future, I'll be called Song Zhiqi!"
She ran around in the open space. When she grew tired, she turned back and asked mischievously: "Master, I haven't asked you yet—what is your name?"
Song Huiya poured out the water, extinguished the fire, and said briefly: "You can call me Master."
Song Zhiqi pestered her: "If others ask who my master is, how should I answer?"
Song Huiya picked up her sword and walked down the mountain, prevaricating: "Just say that I am your Song Zhiqi's master."
Song Zhiqi timidly trotted to keep up, her mouth unable to stay quiet for a moment. She had to pull Song Huiya into gossip: "Huh? But they don't care who I am—they won't say anything!"
Song Huiya patted her head. "So you must become more promising in the future. Master will rely on your name."
Song Zhiqi smiled. "Okay, then I must practice martial arts well! Become a contemporary hero!"
The pedestrians on the mountain road disappeared into the shadows of the trees. Only their voices still swirled and echoed in the wind.
"Master?"
"Master!!"
"Shut up."
"Eh! Got it, Master!"
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