NOVPUBChapter 753 -53: Unspoken (1/2)(3200)
Ye Zhuhua offered a faint smile, closed the door, and secured their privacy. This secluded place was located by the side of a lively district on the Jiangnan Road, not far from a flowing stream, close to spots of indulgence. Many well-to-do families had secondary residences here to sequester their beauties.
At this sweltering moment, few residents remained in the area, and passersby were scarce, thus keeping their meeting place secret was uncomplicated—a most suitable arrangement indeed.
The sagacity of old Jianghu hands always lay in the smallest details.
Xu Shihua was sitting by a stone table under a tree, his garment loosely draped, leaving one arm exposed. Days earlier, in a struggle to escape, he’d been pierced through the shoulder by a thunderous sword technique from Ye Zhuhua, who channeled it from his chest. Thankfully, the young scholar was also skilled in the Arsenic Technique, which prevented the blade from harming his bones.
The piercing wound appeared fearsome, but it was minor for a Seventh Rank Martial Artist who could rely on the vigorous circulation of qi and blood to heal. With superior medicinal ointments, it would take merely ten days to recover—fortunate, considering only the cover of night could conceal such injuries.
Upon seeing Ye Zhuhua approach, Xu Shihua frowned and said,
“You’ve arrived quite late.”
Ye Zhuhua, face full of regret, cupped his hands sincerely and said,
“There was no choice, although our respected elder is somewhat obstinate and traditional, he’s not lacking in wisdom. If I weren’t just over a hundred li from One-Leaf Pavilion’s gate, with the elder delighted and off guard, I wouldn’t dare come. The matter is of great import and risk.”
“Therefore, I ask for your understanding, Elder Xu.”
Having said this, he bowed deeply once more.
Though anger simmered in Xu Shihua’s heart, Ye Zhuhua’s earnest demeanor—and the fact that he had indeed shown up—quenched it somewhat. While still somewhat disgruntled, he was not provoked enough to erupt on the spot.
Seeming to enjoy his wine alone, he poured two cups, glanced at Ye Zhuhua, and said, “The weather is oppressively hot today. Brother Ye, why not join me for a refreshing cold drink? It might offer some comfort.”
Ye Zhuhua responded warmly with a nod, strode over, and settled across from him. Clad in a dark cyan robe patterned subtly, hair bound by a jade crown—he might not have been the epitome of handsome, but his genteel appearance, perhaps seventy percent as such, added to his charm. He took a seat, elegantly lifted a cup with his fair fingers, and, after taking a delicate whiff of the wine, smiled and praised,
“Fine wine.”
Just as he poised himself to drink, Xu Shihua interjected mockingly,
“Scholar, are you not afraid of poison in your wine?”
Without hesitation, Ye Zhuhua tilted his head back and drained the cup, then showed the empty vessel to Xu Shihua with a calm smile,
“If I’ve come all this way, I naturally wouldn’t suspect Elder Xu. After all, if you truly wished to take my life, would you need to resort to poison? I would have no choice but to accept my fate.”
“But as I thought, the wine is crisp and pleasantly sweet. Excellent!”
Xu Shihua’s features softened slightly. He poured another cup and said evenly, “With the fame of the Shao Yu Sword of Zhang Zuosheng, naturally, I wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Even if my neck were hardened through practice, it’s no match for a light slash from the Shao Yu Sword. I may be over fifty, but I still value my life and have no wish to die so simply.”
Ye Zhuhua chuckled,
“My master is a noble gentleman who would never stoop to such deeds.”
Xu Shihua gave a sly smile, neither confirming nor denying this.
The two drank and chit-chatted idly without touching on the matter at hand, resembling men in an Oiran’s room at a Brothel, eager at heart yet feigning composure to avoid giving away any advantage.
They spoke of romance and anecdotal tales until the wine pot was almost empty. A flush from the alcohol crept onto Xu Shihua’s face before he set down his empty cup, and with common-born impatience finally besting him, he sighed deeply and said with self-mockery,
“Young brother Ye, I won’t play riddles with you anymore. I have done as you previously requested, stepping upon my own and the Xiahou Family’s shoulders. You must have gained the trust of that old fellow Wu Qiong by now.”
“Can you now deliver what we agreed upon?”
Ye Zhuhua nodded,
“Of course, it should be done.”
He then pulled a hand-scribed Secret Manual from his bosom, laid it gently on the table, and pushed it slightly towards Xu Shihua, whispering,
“This is the superior Internal Strength Manual of One-Leaf Pavilion, what that Fifth Rank Swordsman of Mysterious Sword Sect has long coveted. Although it is a manual of Inner Strength, it encompasses Qinggong, hand-to-hand combat, finger techniques, acupoints, and swordsmanship. Additionally, attached are three pill formulas, given as a token of my sincerity.”
“With this manual, your grandson can surely reinvent himself and embark on a distinguished path as a proper Martial Artist. When the time is right, I will find a way to include him in One-Leaf Pavilion. I cannot promise too much, but this will be enough to give him a true Disciple’s identity.”
Overjoyed to the point of near loss of composure, Xu Shihua snatched the substantial secret manuscript, feeling the fresh scent of ink and paper as he opened it—an indication it was recently transcribed, a delight to the senses. He bowed his head to scrutinize it closely, and as Ye Zhuhua calmly allowed him his time, Xu Shihua—with the expertise and insight befitting a Fifth Rank Martial Artist, despite his humble origins and convoluted past—recognized it as an utterly authentic Confucian Sect text.
After carefully examining it for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Xu Shihua closed the manual, held it in his hands, his expression much more agreeable, and sighed. Suddenly chuckling at himself, he said,
“Since ancient times, the true transmission has been a single phrase.”
“And that phrase is ‘lineage’.”
“For that very promise, this old man has slaved away like an ox or a horse, hardly even counting as a person. Now, as evening approaches, I must even lose my late-life integrity and betray my family clan, all just to secure a lasting fortune for my descendants. Having finally obtained these secret manuals, somehow, I feel an indescribable sensation,” he said.
Ye Zhuhua smiled and responded,
“Love for one’s children runs deep, old senior, you too are a person of deep emotions.”
Xu Shihua said with self-mockery,
“Young master, please don’t speak like that. I know full well that I am not a good person; it’s just that this matter is… indescribable.”
“The Xiahou Family is indeed finished. Not to mention this old man’s selfish desire to plot for the sake of his little children, even that Wei Jinping who died in the inn had his own schemes in mind. And he thought I didn’t know – what a joke.”
“The Xiahou lineage originally established its foothold on Jiangnan Road and claimed its status as one of the four great noble clans with the help of numerous guest elders. Now with the family scattered and the guest elders harboring their own ulterior motives, it’s unlikely the family will last much longer. Young Brother Ye, once you take over One-Leaf Pavilion, if you have aspirations, perhaps you might consider moving against the Xiahou Family.”
Ye Zhuhua formally bowed with clasped hands and said,
“Thank you, senior, for your guidance.”
Stroking his beard, Xu Shihua then gazed down at the manual in his hands and let out a long sigh that contained a mix of emotions only he could understand. A breath released, and yet thoughts of his dearly adorable grandson brought a rise of cheerful relief to him.
Suddenly, he remembered something – they were not far from One-Leaf Pavilion; they should arrive by tomorrow. Considering the many things this scholar had done, a falling out with this group of people was inevitable.
Both women were martial artists of high standing, which Ye Zhuhua must have realized that day, but he might not be aware of the plain-dressed servant’s covert skills. Unprepared, he was likely to be caught by surprise. At this moment, Xu Shihua had no other thoughts in his head and was ready to look up to inform Ye Zhuhua of the danger, in the hope that he would be on guard.
But as he looked up, he felt a wave of dizziness. Despite his physique strong enough to fight lions, tigers, and exotic beasts, he found himself swaying and nearly collapsing onto the stone table. Struggling to lift his gaze, his vision blurred as if three or five silhouettes were flickering before him.
Being long-acquainted with Jianghu, Xu Shihua instantly realized that, despite his countless precautions, he had finally fallen for a trap and been poisoned. Now, with his gaze lowered, he spotted dampness at the scholar’s feet, the smell of alcohol hitting his nose. The wine from before had not touched him at all; he had used his technique only now to expel it from his body through his meridians.
He wanted to speak but already lacked the strength to do so. His life of combat had come to this, and yet he felt no resentment, only gripping the secret manual tightly in his hand. He looked toward the scholar, yearning only to plead with Ye Zhuhua, as a friend, to deliver the manual to his grandson.
For this, he was even willing to reveal all he knew to him, including the servant’s sophisticated technique of cutting off the pulse and how to guard against it.
But he no longer had the strength.
It was a poison so potent that not even a Middle Third Rank martial artist who had observed the natural world to nurture his qi mechanism could withstand it, and he didn’t know when he had been poisoned.
Ye Zhuhua stood up, walked over slowly, and took the secret manual from the hands of Xu Shihua, who died with his eyes wide open.
Spreading it open, a rush of parchment and ink fragrance hit him.
He tossed the manual to the ground, looking at the martial artist who died in regret over his love for his children, and murmured,
“If you are descendants of such low standing, then you should be undertakers for generations to come. People who are barely a notch above harlots, how dare they aspire to learn the principles of their ancestors?”
“Great righteous qi.”
“What right do you have to it?”
Amidst the creaking sound, the closed wooden door was suddenly pushed open. A man in his thirties, with two long strands of beard and a refined appearance, flushed with color, walked in, each arm wrapped around a beautiful young woman, followed by two servants and a handsome young man whose beauty did not pale in comparison to the girls’.
Upon entering and seeing the independent scholar in the courtyard, he was momentarily stupefied by his drunkenness and said nothing. Just when he was about to rebuke, he saw the scholar smile slightly at him and greet with a bow,
“As a humble student, I pay my respects to the teacher.”
The refined man assumed he was a student driven mad by the pursuit of official rank, given the sight of an old drunkard at the table. His brows tightly furrowed, especially because he was bringing home women of pleasure and did not want to be seen. He waved his hand to have a servant close the door, then began to scold,
“What is your surname and who are you, how dare you barge into…”
Before he could finish speaking, the scholar had already stepped forward and, with an unwavering smile, didn’t bother to respond. A dagger slid out of his hand, and with a swift and decisive move, he slashed the middle-aged scholar’s throat, spilling blood profusely. The few who had initially relaxed almost cried out in alarm.
But how could they, with a Sixth Rank Martial Artist’s response time, react in time? On the contrary, in mere moments, the few who had inadvertently returned were all cleanly dispatched, including the charming women, without a single bloodstain on Ye Zhuhua’s cyan robe.
He straightened his clothes and then strolled out, his demeanor distinguished and natural, appearing as a scholar who had returned from a visit, not arousing any suspicion. Before leaving, he carefully closed the varnished vermilion door.
Moments later, a great fire erupted from within the compound, consuming all traces and connections to its end.
Several neighboring houses were engulfed before the flames were put out.
PS: Presenting the first chapter of the day… 3,200 words
Thank you to Zaijian Xiongxiong for the generous gift, much appreciated~
