This is the second time today that I've stood on the stone steps of Broken Goose Mountain.
The orange-red glow of the setting sun falls on the rolling mountains, and the winding path is bathed in its afterglow, like a thousand-foot shadow cast from the depths of the sky.
Every step I take seems to be against this overwhelming tide—crossing mountains, climbing peaks, questioning the heights of the heavens.
Can the heights of the heavens be questioned?
Whether it's weariness or fear, the woman finally stops.
She turns her face halfway, not looking at the person behind her, but at this moment, the surging spirit in her chest is once again stopped by the towering mountains and seas.
She hesitates, wanting to ask: Great hero, you are all alone, can you reach the end with just your fists and legs?
Song Huiya lifts the bamboo hat that covers her eyebrows and eyes, smiles and steps forward, places her palm on the woman's back, and gently pushes her.
The second aunt feels the wind beneath her feet, and in the blink of an eye, she has crossed the many steps and stands outside the mountain gate.
She looked up at the two characters "Broken Goose" written in bold, flowing strokes on the massive bluestone, and for the first time felt her dignity as a human being upheld by this grand and imposing aura.
The disciple guarding the mountain, not hearing footsteps, turned his gaze and saw another person standing opposite him. His face first showed surprise, then anger. He pointed at her and demanded, "What, it's you again? Didn't I tell you to get lost? If you still don't know what's good for you, I really will be impolite!"
"I've come to take her up the mountain."
The disciple looked surprised. He took a half-step back and saw a composed swordsman standing behind the woman.
"May I ask who you are?" The disciple, stunned by her aura, assumed she was an unfamiliar guest and bowed respectfully, asking, "Does Senior have a visiting card?"
Song Huiya, holding her sword at an angle and leaning casually on her shoulder, calmly replied, "Of course not. Summon your mountain steward; I've come to find someone to seek justice."
The disciple stared blankly for a moment before realizing he had been tricked. He flew into a rage, shouting, "Where did this arrogant scoundrel come from, daring to cause trouble at my Broken Goose Sect!"
He glanced at the second sister, his eyes flashing fiercely, "You think you've found an accomplice? I think you've found a dead end!"
The disciple gripped the hilt of his sword, about to draw it, but before the blade was even unsheathed, a piece of black iron struck his weapon with lightning speed.
An immense force surged through his arms and waist, numbing his bones. He shuddered, and was sent flying backward.
The disciple opened his eyes, dizzy, half his body still numb. His face was filled with horror. He hurriedly pulled out a whistling arrow from his waist and shot it into the sky.
Before long, a hurried and chaotic bell rang out from the mountaintop. Accompanying the powerful sound waves was a gathering of disciples from the mountain gate, like dark clouds.
The crowd surged toward the two from all directions. Song Huiya brandished her longsword, strode forward with a graceful step, and said with a gentle smile, "Second Sister, tell them what you've come for."
Second Sister, her steps trembling, passed through the towering stone gate, faced the approaching, menacing crowd, took a deep breath, and roared loudly, "Give me back my husband's body! Give me back my son's life! Give it all back!"
Song Huiya followed behind her, her clear voice echoing, her tone calm, "Did you hear that? If you didn't, I'll fight my way up the mountain. I'll smash your plaques, tear down your ancestral hall, and then I'll tell you all this again."
A cacophony of curses erupted around them, deafening. Swords flashed, cold waves surged, and the attack came fiercely.
"You're courting death!"
"Where did this dog come from, daring to bark at our gate!"
"How dare a lowly wretch like you trespass into the Broken Goose Sect?! You've defiled our sect's grounds!"
The overwhelming roar engulfed Erniang's ears, and she instinctively took a step back.
Song Huiya's sword tip pressed against her back, and she calmly said, "Erniang, just keep moving forward. Let's see who can stop you."
Erniang closed her eyes and took a step forward.
Song Huiya's voice rang close to her ear: "The so-called big shots on the mountain, when you get closer, there's nothing to be afraid of."
The grand scale of the battle caused the ground to tremble slightly.
Erniang expected a thousand troops before her, but when she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a pair of well-defined hands.
Those hands were deathly pale, almost devoid of blood; years of martial arts training had etched clearly defined veins and muscles. The sword in her hand was jet black, as deep as night, as cold as frost.
With a single thrust of her sword, she blocked the oncoming blade, instantly shattering the impenetrable killing intent.
Then, the sword flew from her hand, sweeping across. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the afterimage flashing from her right to her left, her body moving even faster than the sword's light. She caught the spinning blade again, her toes barely touching the ground as she leaped into the air, her right leg whipping backward, forcefully carving a path through the crowd.
The front-row disciples were caught off guard. Although the blows weren't fatal, the powerful internal energy surged through them, leaving them momentarily powerless and collapsing to the ground. This threw their companions behind them into chaos.
Second Sister looked at the young men groaning in pain on the ground, trembling uncontrollably—not from fear, but from a surge of boiling, exhilarating excitement.
That heat flowed unimpeded to her brain, making her feel both clear-headed and delusional. Before she could process it all, she had already strode forward.
A group of youths stared at her, their gazes shifting slightly, their pupils trembling, and an undisguised terror rising on their faces.
Song Huiya spoke with an arrogant tone, her voice clear and resonant like a great bell, drowning out the clamor from the opposite side: "Anyone who tries to stop me will have my sword drawn."
The crowd abruptly retreated several steps, the indignant young disciples scattering in screams. The exact words they were shouting were indistinguishable amidst the commotion.
A few stubborn individuals, however, continued to charge forward, swords drawn.
Song Huiya lightly placed her left hand on Erniang's shoulder, her body rising like a wild goose. Her two fingers, gripping the scabbard, loosened slightly, and with a clear, resonant sword cry, the scabbard slid into Erniang's arms, its cold gleam piercing the defiant youths.
The disciples in the front row could not dodge in time; terrified by the sword strike, which seemed to shake mountains and rivers, they staggered backward, their faces contorted with fear.
As the cold light faded, their eyes widened as they stared at the line of blood spurting from their chests. Their vision was shrouded in black light, and they involuntarily stumbled backward.
Song Huiya's sword tip hovered, blood droplets rolling down and slowly spreading on the stone bricks. She said with slight disappointment, "Pathetic. Asked for trouble. A waste of time."
The disciple's lips trembled, shaking like a leaf. Only when he was helped up did he realize that Song Huiya had shown mercy, allowing him to brush with death.
Song Huiya strolled forward leisurely, laughing loudly, "Second Sister, why don't we go to the mountaintop? It's not much different from the human world at the foot of the mountain."
Seeing the situation on the verge of collapse and becoming uncontrollable, someone finally rushed down from the mountain, stretching out their arms and shouting, "Stop—! Stop!"
The disciples, hearing this, felt as if they had been granted a pardon, and scattered again, avoiding the situation as if they could.
Song Huiya twirled her weapon and casually thrust it into a crack between the bluestone blocks. The sword pierced through the hard ground as lightly as if it had entered a layer of soft mud, standing straight on the ground.
The man in brocade robes strode down from the high pavilion. Seeing this scene, his eyes twitched slightly. He clasped his hands and said solemnly, "May I ask who you are, and why you have come to my Duan Yan Sect to cause trouble? What are your demands? Can't we discuss them?"
Amidst the clamor of voices around him, he turned back and gave a warning glance, which barely silenced the whispers.
Song Huiya innocently said, "It wasn't me who started this trouble. I clearly stated my purpose, but a bunch of shrimp soldiers insisted on coming to fight, so I had no choice but to loosen their muscles."
The man suppressed his temper and said politely, "It turns out that my disciples were unaware of the reason and offended us. Please enlighten us. If it is the fault of my Duan Yan Sect, I will give you an explanation. But you have shown no mercy by barging into my territory and injuring my disciples. You need to provide a reasonable explanation."
Seeing his sinister expression, Song Huiya didn't bother to say more and pointed to Erniang: "The aggrieved party is over there."
Only then did the man in brocade turn his gaze to the side. After seeing Erniang's face clearly, he vaguely felt that she was familiar, but he couldn't quite remember. Seeing that she was dressed in a tattered rag and had unkempt hair, he frowned almost imperceptibly and made a gesture for her to speak.
Erniang opened her mouth, but a thousand words were stuck in her throat, and she was speechless for a moment, not knowing where to begin.
Song Huiya reminded her, "How many days ago was it when your son had that accident?"
The second aunt nodded hurriedly, covering her mouth and saying sorrowfully, "Seven days ago, I took my son to the temple fair. My son saw a young child sitting on the ground wiping away tears, as if she had been separated from her family, so he went over and helped her up. He wiped her face and comforted her, telling her not to be afraid. Suddenly, a group of people rushed over and, without saying a word, slapped my son! How strong are you people from the Broken Goose Sect? My son was sent flying, his mouth full of blood, and he fainted on the spot."
The man in brocade robes subtly changed his expression for a moment when he heard this, then quickly adjusted, his hands, which had been hanging at his sides, now clasped in front of him, feigning sincerity and appearing thoughtful.
Song Huiya looked at him indifferently. The man seemed to sense something, turned his pupils to meet her gaze, and finally smiled politely.
Song Huiya returned a sinister smile.
The woman, oblivious to the interaction between the two, broke down in tears, recounting, "They knew they were wrong, but instead of apologizing, they cursed my son as lowly and said he shouldn't have come near. Then they turned and left with their men. That night, my son developed a high fever that wouldn't break, and blood flowed from both ears. He suffered terribly until the next day, when my husband borrowed five taels of silver and took him to the doctor. The old doctor wasn't there; the apprentice on duty glanced at him casually, prescribed five doses of medicine, and sent us home. He only took one dose before he was gone..."
Her breath was shallow, and she could only utter hoarse whispers. Only a group of disciples nearby could hear her roughly, and they hurriedly relayed the message to those around them, causing the scene to become noisy again.
The man sighed deeply, pondered for a long time, and then said indifferently, "Your son is truly...unlucky."
The second wife, preoccupied with her grief, didn't grasp the deeper meaning in his words.
The man, unconcerned with her thoughts, turned to Song Huiya and asked, "So, you've come to help this lady collect her medical fees? Which clinic is so negligent? A life is at stake, yet they dare to be so evasive. I will certainly send someone to punish them and order them to apologize to this lady in person."
Every word he uttered was unexpected by Song Huiya. It was so absurd that she burst out laughing.
Second Sister was stunned, and it took her a while to find her voice before she screamed, "I don't want money! This isn't about money!"
"You don't want money?" The man looked at Second Sister again, bewildered. "Didn't this lady borrow money for her consultation? Five taels of silver is no small sum. Although it was that clinic that caused the death, and it's not related to my Broken Goose Sect, Sect Leader Ye is always compassionate, so I'll take the liberty of waiving the consultation fee for you."
Second Sister's lips moved, her thoughts thrown into disarray by his sophistry. Hearing the surrounding crowd pointing and gossiping without knowing the truth, she could only repeat herself, her face pale, "I don't want money, I want the person."
"Who do you want? Isn't he already dead?" The man's brows were lowered, his expression sorrowful. "The dead cannot be brought back to life, please accept my condolences."
The second woman forced a breath and roared shrilly, "My husband borrowed money from your sect, and hasn't repaid it for days. Because of my son's death, he was heartbroken and told the debt collector he wouldn't pay. Your men kidnapped him and beat him! Yesterday I came to inquire, and the disciple at the gate said that someone was beaten to death yesterday—it was my husband, and the body was thrown away somewhere. They're all dead, what use is money to me? You might as well kill me too!"
The man's face showed pain, and he seemed to feel sympathy, but he spoke with an air of righteous indignation. He said in a low voice, "Although the sect leader is kind-hearted and willing to lend money to some poor people for temporary relief, it is only right to repay debts! Just because someone is pitiful doesn't mean one can default on a debt. Wouldn't the world be in chaos? Don't you agree, sir? A disciple of the sect couldn't stand by and watch as someone was being taught a lesson, but perhaps he didn't know his own strength and accidentally injured the person. It's truly a sin."
He paused, then asked cryptically, "Is that young man alright? Was he really killed by one of my disciples?"
Second Sister was heartbroken, as if a layer of her flesh had been ripped out of her body. She was filled with extreme hatred, but she was tongue-tied and couldn't say a word. She could only look to Song Huiya for help.
Song Huiya's eyes were deep and dark, carrying a storm brewing: "If someone is accidentally killed, there should at least be a body. It's not like you could just abandon a disciple who made a mistake without even explaining."
The man lowered his head, adopting a defiant attitude: "This... I really don't know. I'll have someone inquire later."
Song Huiya lost patience and said, "It's alright, save your nonsense and just call out the ones who did the beating. I'll reason with them. Let's start with the one who likes to slap people. Judging from your reaction, you should recognize him, right?"
Seeing that the two were unmoved, the man's face grew increasingly agitated, and his eyes toward Song Huiya held a hint of blatant anger. He said in a low voice, "Don't push your luck!"
"No one has ever taught me that word in my life." Song Huiya was seething with anger, but her smile grew even more benevolent. "What a sharp tongue you have, twisting the truth. A mouthful of fangs, biting wildly. It's clear no respectable person taught you any manners or shame. I'm very annoyed today and don't want to hear any more barking. If you don't want a beating, get out of my way."
Ignoring him, Song Huiya drew her longsword, flashed it, and called out firmly, "Second Sister, let's go up the mountain. I'll help you identify them one by one."
The man said resolutely, "Absolutely not!"
Seeing that Song Huiya ignored him, the man stepped aside to block her path, also saying sternly, "Even if you do identify them, you probably won't get any justice. The one who punished this vile woman that day was none other than the young master of my Broken Goose Sect!"
Second Sister's crying stopped, and the surrounding chatter ceased.
Song Huiya raised her head and looked at the man opposite her. She saw the arrogance and pity that he had not concealed in his eyes, and his clear confidence that he was certain that the two of them would back down when they heard this name.
The woman's eyes were empty, her frail body swayed, and finally, only utter despair remained. She seemed dead in an instant.
"Oh," Song Huiya exclaimed in sudden realization, then laughed, "Ha."
Old Qian hastily tidied up the things in the front yard, then went over and pulled up Song Zhiqie, who was hiding in a corner muttering to herself, urging, "Go pack your things. If your master doesn't come back after dark, I'll take you away."
Song Zhiqie was struck dumb, completely forgetting their previous grudges. Her expression drooped, and she hugged his leg, crying, "No way, old man! I really didn't want to eat your chicken! I just grabbed it and plucked a couple of feathers to play with it. You're going to kick me out like this? How will you explain this to my master when she comes back? Grandpa, I'll never do it again!"
Old Qian found her nagging annoying, his ears calloused from the noise, and thought it was pointless, so he simply went into Song Huiya's room himself.
Song Huiya had nothing of value; she had only brought a few clothes with her, which were now folded and placed on the bedside table. Besides that, she only had a curled-edge book, which she had casually placed on the table by the window.
Old Qian picked it up and flipped through it casually, the pages pressing against the creases in the middle, automatically turning to the part Song Huiya had just read.
Song Zhiqie, still clinging tightly to his leg as he moved, reached out to snatch it, but was too short and missed several times. Frustrated, she said, "You're peeking at my master's things! I'll tell her when she gets back! You should know what kind of person my master is; she's not a good person!"
Old Qian let her bite and hit him, engrossed in reading the records inside.
"Beitu has sent a letter urging me to go up Broken Goose Mountain alone. Has that old man practiced some kind of evil art? He's actually worried that he'll die before me. Surely he's not worried that I'll die at Nameless Cliff?"
"Having killed Hu Mingshen and his son, if I survive, I'll head west to Broken Goose Mountain to kill the Ye family and destroy their sect. If I have to stop halfway, I'll have to ask Liang Xi to help Beitu."
"Having killed the Ye traitor, I'll have my junior brother come quickly to clean up the mess. That wretched place, Beitu described it as a ghost town."
"I won't go to the capital. If fate allows, I might be able to meet A-Mian at Broken Goose Mountain. I wonder how old he is now."
"Heading south, I'll kill Xie Zhongchu."
"Heading north, I'll keep my promise to kill Gao. It's fraught with danger. If I happen to be passing by, I'll return to Buluo Mountain."
"Master's jade should have been repaired by now. I haven't worshipped it for ten years. I hope she won't blame me."
"..."
She must have written in fits and starts, taking all night to write just a few lines, with a few drops of unreadable ink at the end of each paragraph. He had arranged everything that followed.
Who to kill, where to go, who to meet—it was all written down, but not clearly enough. This made it difficult for Song Huiya to believe him now.
Seeing Qian Lao's solemn expression, Song Zhiqie knew it was important and stopped joking. Standing to the side, she gently tugged at Qian Lao's sleeve and whispered, "What does it say, Grandpa?"
Qian Lao turned to the next page; the rest wasn't really about anything serious, mostly just Song Huiya's ramblings for amusement.
"Today, Old Monster Zhou actually scolded me, saying I must have four legs, running too fast, even he almost couldn't catch me. He also said I was too cowardly, wasting my fearsome reputation like a living Yama, why did I run away from people? I deserve to be killed and sent back to my own time.
"No wonder he can't find a disciple and has to rely on me; he doesn't even understand this simple truth.
"They can't catch me, and they're the ones who're furious. I can escape anywhere, the world is vast and I'm free and unrestrained. They can only chase after me, hearing about my heroic deeds along the way, pounding their chests in anger. Isn't that impressive enough?
"I happened to pass by and left three letters for Broken Goose Mountain, enough to make Ye Wenmao and his son restless. Otherwise, why would they have cowered at home after the Battle of Nameless Cliff, unwilling to come?"
"Today I heard some foolish talk. When I killed xxx and left the city, there were people lining the streets to see me off. That old scoundrel Xie righteously and sternly criticized me, saying that I was ultimately just chasing after empty fame, and now I'm probably gloating.
"Happy? Ha! For every person who praises me, there's someone who curses me. And so-called admiration is easily forgotten, while those who hate me are sworn enemies who wish they could skin me alive. What do I need those empty titles for? They're worth less than two ounces of steamed buns.
"But I enjoy seeing those old fogies gnashing their teeth in hatred yet utterly helpless. They might even wake up in the middle of the night cursing me. Thinking about it that way, even if I go hungry, I'm genuinely happy."
"I, Song Huiya, have roamed the martial world for over ten years, reflecting on myself daily, always thinking I've achieved a calm and profound understanding. But when I encounter these fools, I realize I'm still somewhat arrogant. Old habits die hard."
"Do I really need to see them? If one day I were given the chance, to wear fine clothes, eat delicious food, work up a sweat, and then wash myself clean and lie in bed, with the window half-open, listening to a few tunes outside, or perhaps the clamor of voices, and the sound of rain pattering on banana leaves."
"When I'm tired, I think of the gentle breeze and bright moon, the frost on the roof tiles. A day and a night spent doing nothing, observing the mundane colors of the world. I can still be quite happy."
"I'm too lazy to kill. But they won't believe me if I speak kindly. So I can only wipe out this world and show them."
Under everyone's watchful eyes, Song Huiya raised her sword, saying calmly, "So?"
She suddenly understood the words she wrote before her amnesia. She had initially disliked the pervasive use of "kill" and "death," disliked the excessive indulgence of the past Song Huiya. But now, facing this group of hypocrites, she inexplicably gained a different understanding and feeling.
Whether it was the Song Huiya who braved the wind and snow, wandering thousands of miles, or the carefree Song Huiya who could drink to the fullest today, she would ultimately make the same choice.
In that sense, watching those scheming, two-faced villains reveal their true colors, and then jumping up and down in resentment behind their backs, was indeed an interesting thing.
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