Chapter 20: The Voice of an Ant

 Song Huiya's sword tip was almost touching the man's face, only an inch away. The man in brocade robes neither retreated nor dodged, his expression showing neither fear nor humility.

Hundreds of disciples on either side, and the majestic mountain gate behind him, were his source of confidence.

The longer Song Huiya's sword tip hovered, the stronger his arrogance became. Even with the biting north wind carrying the chill of iron swords and the stench of blood, he still possessed an air of unparalleled self-confidence, as if the one whose fate was now tied to his own was not him.

The man didn't say a word, only staring at Song Huiya.

The water clock dripped, and the sun gradually sank. In the blink of an eye, the setting sun had vanished like dust.

Both faces were hidden in the shadows of the night.

Song Huiya's coldness and the man in brocade robes' composure became even clearer under the contours drawn by light and shadow.

Disciples on both sides quietly lit lamps, and the yellow lanterns along the mountain path illuminated the figures in the moonlight, creating a hazy and melancholic scene.

This eerie, profound silence filled the air with both the menacing tension of an arrow poised on a bowstring and the calm after a storm.

The change was instantaneous.

Second Sister stepped forward and grasped Song Huiya's wrist, unable to utter the words "forget it," only gently shaking her head, her fingers tightening to press down Song Huiya's sword-wielding hand.

She muttered almost inaudibly to herself, "I shouldn't have come up in the first place."

To be trampled underfoot and then drift before a noble person was itself a mistake.

She felt as if she had shattered into pieces, her ears ringing, her soul gone. Only clinging to her last shred of guilt, she feigned defiance, forcing a bitter smile: "Why drag the young lady into this?"

Song Huiya glanced at her, took a half-step back, and finally yielded, slowly sheathing her sword.

A few scattered hisses rose from the surroundings, sounding like mocking disappointment, yet also containing unspoken regret.

Although somewhat expected, the grand spectacle of the performance contrasted sharply with its disastrous end.

Song Huiya said calmly, "I'll ask you one last time. With all your excuses and nonsense, do you truly not believe your young master has done anything wrong?"

Seeing her retreat, the man in brocade robes, his chest surging with an unbridled excitement, no longer bothered to restrain his arrogance and simply said openly, "A bastard is a bastard! That little bastard dared to touch our young lady, he deserved to be beaten, what reason is needed? One slap and he's dead, proving he was born short-lived, and I think he's brought bad luck upon our young lady!"

The second aunt, emaciated, stood still, listening to his insults.

The man pointed at the second wife, speaking arrogantly, "A person like her should never have even seen us once in her life. But that mad dog of hers borrowed money from the sect, and instead of being grateful, she dared to humiliate the sect leader to his face. Doesn't she deserve to die? Why should someone as outstanding as you associate with this vile woman and willingly degrade yourself?"

Song Huiya pressed down on the second wife's arm, making her turn around.

The man in brocade smiled and said, "Wait—"

Before he could finish the word "go," Song Huiya suddenly attacked, her sword sheath slashing like lightning, striking the man heavily in the chest.

The man in brocade was powerless to resist, flying backward several feet, rolling on the ground several times before finally coming to a stop. After a brief period of unconsciousness, he awoke, feeling excruciating pain throughout his limbs, vomiting blood, and unable to even lift his hands.

"Insolence—"

The two men beside him, their eyes bloodshot, rushed forward, brandishing their fists and feet.

Song Huiya disdainfully glanced at them, her steps unwavering as she walked toward the man in brocade.

The guard, his burly frame rising with a powerful leap, delivered a punch to her face, but she merely sidestepped.

The light was too dim for anyone to see her movement clearly, yet Song Huiya had already moved behind the guard, her right hand gripping the man's neck, and with effortless force, slammed him to the ground.

The flat bluestone slab shattered from the force, cracking into spiderweb-like patterns. The deafening explosion filled the crowd with terror. Some even screamed, unable to bear the sight.

The guards following behind, seeing this, lost all fighting spirit, their tiger-fist clenching inward, pulling back to their chests, and hastily retreating.

These two moves alone silenced the crowd. Only the sound of chattering teeth could be heard in the cold wind.

Only then did everyone realize that she had indeed shown mercy earlier; otherwise, the scene would have been littered with corpses.

"Do you consider me a mountain dweller?" Song Huiya stood before the man in brocade, looking down at him with a gentle smile. "In my presence, are you a nobody? According to your logic, if I were to kill you, shouldn't you immediately commit suicide to atone for your sins, lest you bring me bad luck?"

Song Huiya raised her sword, the tip lightly pressed against the man's chest.

The man, already barely clinging to life, suddenly felt as if a towering mountain was pressing down on his chest, his flesh and blood about to be crushed into mincemeat, yet he couldn't die.

His mouth gaped open, blood bubbling in his throat, barely managing to utter a gasp: "You..."

Song Huiya remained unmoved: "I won't kill you, firstly because I don't want to dirty my sword. Someone like you isn't worthy of my sword. Secondly, I haven't found a good enough reason to kill you. I prefer beating the dog's master to beating the dog. However..."

Song Huiya raised her longsword and tapped him lightly on his vital point.

The man's eyes dimmed instantly, widening as he reached for her black sword.

Song Huiya's eyes showed pity, her calm tone carrying an unapproachable cruelty: "A mad dog like you doesn't deserve fangs. I can't stand it. Today, I'll cripple your martial arts. Remember, from now on, bow your head and be a human being."

She seemed like a god atop a mountain, compassionately looking down upon the ants at the foot of the mountain.

The man in brocade looked at her face beneath her bamboo hat and, for the first time, felt as if he were wandering in a bottomless abyss. It seemed they recognized her, but it was too late to utter a sound.

Someone in the crowd cried out in alarm, "That black sword, that style... Song... Song Huiya?!"

Although the name flashed through everyone's minds simultaneously, upon hearing it spoken aloud, their instinctive reaction was to refute it.

"How could that be! Isn't Song Huiya already dead?"

"Wasn't Song Huiya said to be seven feet tall, ugly, and burly, like a she-devil?"

"You believe Song Huiya's portrait? There are twenty portraits circulating in the martial world, and twenty different faces, mostly drawn by those who couldn't defeat her, deliberately to vent their anger."

"Song Huiya never concealed her actions when she killed. This swordsman is wearing a bamboo hat and doesn't announce his identity; such secrecy can't possibly be her."

Song Huiya turned around.

The disciples who had been discussing this fell silent, looking around in panic, not daring to meet her gaze even through the darkness.

Song Huiya looked up at the high place, puzzled, "Why isn't she coming out?"

A disciple, mustering his courage, answered, "The young... young sect leader doesn't live on the mountaintop; he has his own residence in the city. The sect's head, the elder of the punishment hall..."

The young disciple nodded, indicating that the person was lying at her feet.

Song Huiya muttered, "Why didn't you say so earlier?"

She walked toward the door, and everyone retreated like a receding tide.

"Broken Goose Sect..." Song Huiya looked at the two characters carved on the mountain rock and sighed, "I heard that your Broken Goose Sect's ancestor founded the sect here because he couldn't stand the sycophantic and corrupt people in the martial world. He likened himself to a lone goose, seeking like-minded people from all over the martial world. Unfortunately, now, his bones have turned to dust, and his so-called like-minded people have all become flies and ants. From top to bottom, they are violent, greedy, and unscrupulous, no longer worthy of their former spirit."

She drew her sword again and slashed a crack between the two characters "Broken Goose."

The disciples present all changed color.

How was this any different from having their sect's reputation trampled underfoot?

"You—" Someone blushed, unable to bear the humiliation. He uttered a single word, hidden in the crowd, and whispered, "This is outrageous!"

"I'll spare your young master's life for now," Song Huiya pondered, then beckoned to the woman, "Second Sister, come here."

The woman rushed toward her.

Song Huiya turned and left, loudly proclaiming, "If Ye Wenmao and his son fail to wear mourning clothes, kneel and kowtow three times, and come to Second Sister's door to bury her family in three days, I will personally come to take your young master's right hand! If he still doesn't come after three more days, I'll come to take his left hand!"

A cold glint flashed in the depths of the night, and several hidden weapons shot out simultaneously from concealed blind spots, aiming straight for the vital points of the man at the mountain gate.

Song Huiya removed her bamboo hat, turned, and threw it, watching several silver needles fly past her eyes.

"Let's see who has the best skills! I'll let you prepare as you please! I want the whole world to see what it means to be a mountain dweller and what it means to be a footman!"

Blood splattered, a muffled groan came from the darkness, followed by a heavy object falling to the ground.

---

Bright red blood dripped into the earthenware bowl.

"Ahhh!"

Song Zhiqie screamed wildly as she looked at the chicken blood in the bowl.

Although she clamored every day to kill and eat that chicken, seeing the old man actually raise his knife and slaughter the chicken, Song Zhiqie became the one who felt the most pain.

She clung to the door frame, one hand covering her eyes, and said worriedly, "Old man, don't you want to live anymore? You killed the chicken, so capable? Don't come crying to my bedside tomorrow if you regret it, even if I eat your chicken, I won't make it up to you!"

Old Qian had boiled water, and after draining the blood, he sat on the ground plucking the feathers.

Song Zhiqie was still asking incessantly, "Why did you kill the chicken? Are you going to die? Will you share a bite of this last meal with me?"

Old Qian was very puzzled.

What sins did Song Huiya commit in her past life to have such a disciple?

He picked up the knife beside him and made a threatening gesture for her to shut up.

Song Zhiqie took a half step back, her ears twitching slightly as she heard footsteps outside the door. Her eyes lit up, and she rushed over, shouting, "Master! My master is back!"

Song Huiya pressed a hand to her forehead, stopping her in her tracks, and walked past her indifferently, putting her sword back in the room.

Song Zhiqie continued talking, following closely behind her, recounting everything that had happened that evening to her, and then turned back to give Old Qian, who had followed her, a smug look.

Old Qian looked Song Huiya up and down, finding no bloodstains on her. He glanced down at the bare chicken in his hand and said angrily, "You really just went to reason with her?"

"Yes," Song Huiya sat down at the table and smiled, "I've always been a reasonable person. I won't resort to violence if I can avoid it."

Old Qian asked, "So you reasoned with her?"

Song Huiya kindly replied, "Not yet. Even grasshoppers in autumn need to be allowed to hop around a bit. How could I be so inhumane?"

Old Qian picked up the chicken, hesitated, and walked toward the kitchen. Before leaving, he glanced back to confirm that Song Huiya's nonchalant attitude was just a facade, and that her actions today weren't meant to amuse him.

He narrowed his eyes sharply, noticing the sudden halt in footsteps, and nonchalantly put the chicken into a pot and placed it on the stove.

Back in the courtyard, after listening to Song Huiya's concise account of what happened on the mountain, he said lightly, "What a coincidence. It was that scoundrel."

He didn't find it too strange. All the troubles, big and small, in Broken Goose City, in the end, should be attributed to the Ye family father and son.

He said with some disagreement, "Showing off. Stirring up trouble. It's unnecessary."

"Killing him is easy for me, but the world won't listen to my voice. In the end, it's just a personal grudge." Song Huiya pointed to the grass lying in the wind and chuckled, "I want to test whether this world can tolerate the voice of an ant."

Old Qian was silent for a moment, then asked, "Aren't you afraid that the story of Nameless Cliff will repeat itself?"

Song Huiya asked back, "Are you afraid?"

The old man looked at her quietly, a fleeting emotion in his yellowish eyes. Finally, he rarely shed his coldness and said earnestly, "Song Huiya, live a little longer. They don't deserve your life."

Song Zhiqie listened for a while, then looked up and smiled affectionately, "Master, if I make a mistake like that in the future, will you kill me?"

Song Huiya smiled lovingly and quickly replied, "Yes. But don't worry. You can't make a mistake as big as his; I've already beaten him to death."

Song Zhiqie's expression became unnatural for a moment, then she shifted her bottom, her lips curving upward again, her smile flawless: "Then I certainly won't make Master angry!"

Song Huiya patted her head, praising her with satisfaction: "Truly my good disciple."

Old Qian: "..."

How did this creepy master and disciple end up together?

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