Chapter 46: Night Conversations, Part Two

Yuan Ye said, “He has his own path to destruction; there’s no need to speak of him now. Once Hu Qingniu arrives, we’ll know how to use this Black Jade Fracture Mending Paste.” In truth, Yuan Ye already had a rough idea of how to heal Yu Daiyan, but he was no physician, and the human body was unfathomably complex. If he were to break and reset Yu Daiyan’s already deformed bones, he feared any slight mishap could lead to disaster. That was why he had sent for Hu Qingniu.

The others all nodded with faces alight with joy. The thought that Yu Daiyan might recover, and they, as brothers, could once again practice martial arts and drink together as before, brought them immense relief.

“Fifth Brother, now that Third Brother’s matter is likely resolved, shouldn't we discuss how to handle Xie Xun?” Zhang Cuishan was still brimming with happiness when Yuan Ye’s words suddenly darkened his expression.

“Eighth Brother, no matter what, I cannot betray Brother Xie. I hope you can understand,” Zhang Cuishan replied, his face full of bitterness.

“Rest assured, Fifth Brother. How could I ask you to become such a disloyal man?” Yuan Ye said.

Hearing this, Zhang Cuishan’s eyes brightened. “Eighth Brother, do you have a way out of this predicament?”

“Yes, Eighth Brother, do you have an idea?” Yin Liting asked eagerly. Back in the days on Wudang Mountain, he and Zhang Cuishan were close in age and always together. Of all present, he was most concerned for Zhang Cuishan.

Seeing his brothers’ expectant gazes, Yuan Ye gave a wry smile. “Brothers, to be honest, there’s no perfect solution. In my opinion, our only option is to ‘delay.’”

“Delay? How would that work?” Yin Liting asked, bewildered.

Yuan Ye did not answer him directly but turned to Zhang Cuishan. “Fifth Brother, right now, who in the world knows Xie Xun’s whereabouts?”

Zhang Cuishan was puzzled. Didn’t Eighth Brother already know the answer? But he still replied, “Only Susu and I.”

“No, there’s one more!” said Yuan Ye.

“One more?” Zhang Cuishan murmured.

“There’s also Wuji,” Yu Lianzhou spoke up.

“Eighth Brother, what does this have to do with Wuji? He’s just a child—he knows nothing!” Zhang Cuishan became anxious, rising to his feet.

“Calm yourself, Fifth Brother. You’re letting your concern cloud your judgment. Since Eighth Brother raises this, he must have a plan,” Zhang Songxi said, also looking at Yuan Ye.

“Yes, Fifth Brother. In a few days, the heroes will gather at Wudang. At that time, you must resolutely block their demands,” Yuan Ye said. “Your wife is a woman; who would dare to trouble her openly? Wudang and the Heavenly Eagle Sect would never let that pass. You can shift the matter onto Wuji. From then on, I’ll keep Wuji by my side, teaching him martial arts. Fifth Brother, you won’t need to worry about anyone harming him while he’s with me, will you?”

Everyone’s eyes lit up. This was indeed an excellent solution. In the martial world, righteousness is paramount. As long as Zhang Cuishan openly affirms his brotherhood with Xie Xun, no one would dare to coerce him publicly. Moreover, Yin Susu was a woman, and the code of the martial world forbade harming innocents—no one would dare target her openly.

If Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu remained on Wudang Mountain, who could possibly harm them under their master’s watchful eye? Wuji was just a child, and no one would have the face to threaten him openly. By the time Wuji grew up, seven or eight years would have passed, and perhaps the situation would have changed entirely.

A fine drizzle began to fall from the sky. By the time Yuan Ye and his brothers finished discussing every detail of how to handle Xie Xun, the moon had already climbed high above the treetops.

After enjoying a meal carefully prepared by the Fireworker Daoist, they left the Purple Cloud Palace to find the weather had taken a sudden turn—dark clouds now blotted out the sky.

Though it was already night, the sudden disappearance of the moon and the chill sweeping down the mountain signaled a coming storm.

Though long accustomed to cold and heat, Yuan Ye instinctively wrapped his robe tighter around himself. Waving farewell to his brothers, he set off alone up the mountain path he had walked countless times.

Even with no moon and utter darkness, he moved with surefooted ease, his steps falling precisely on the raised stones. It wasn’t because of his eyesight—rather, he was so familiar with every blade of grass, every grain of sand and stone, that he could never misstep.

With a light touch of his toe on a protruding rock, he floated two or three yards at a time, drifting up the mountain like a wraith in white.

Fortunately, the mountaintop was rarely visited, especially at night, so no rumors would arise of ghosts haunting the summit. But should anyone have seen him, perhaps talk would spread that an immortal had descended upon Wudang Mountain!

Soon Yuan Ye stood at the edge of the mountain cliff, unhurried to return to his own courtyard, for his master was in seclusion. He followed the cliffside path and, with a few flashes, stood atop the giant boulder where he once practiced daily.

Drawing in the cool mountain breeze, he exhaled the stale air from his lungs and immediately felt his body lighter and more at ease.

Years ago on the Han River, he had resolved not to lead a mediocre life, but to do something meaningful. In the years since, driven by the passion that still burned within him, he had traveled far and wide, making many preparations.

His days were full. Along this journey, he had gradually transformed from an immature youth with delusions of grandeur into a somewhat unqualified leader, or perhaps an ambitious schemer—or even an executioner.

Of course, some might call him a savior.

At that moment, the clouds above could no longer hold their burden, and a fine rain began to fall across the mountains.

Yuan Ye did not seek shelter. Instead, he lifted his head and allowed the chilly raindrops to caress his face, each strand of rain washing away a trace of his weariness.

No matter what kind of life one leads, it is always exhausting.

In his past life, he had been an unfortunate recluse, muddling through each day, his life dim and without luster. He envied those who drove luxury cars and kept beautiful women—true winners in life.

But now, his martial skills were nearly unrivaled, his secret influence stretched across the land, and while his wealth might not be the greatest in the world, it far exceeded anything he had dared dream of before.

Yet, he felt no greater happiness. When he first arrived in this world, his only motivation was the hope of one day returning to his family.

Later, he wanted to see the martial world’s highest peaks and fulfill his humble yet magnificent dream of being a wandering hero.

Then he aspired to use his knowledge and skills—surpassing those of this world—to accomplish something, to change the fate of this suffering nation.

Now, standing near the pinnacle of this world’s power, he could not help but regret the vow he had once made in haste, “Drive out the foreigners, restore the Han nation.” It was simply too exhausting! Would it not have been better to quietly live as a charming young hero, find a beautiful swordswoman, and be a carefree couple roaming the martial world together?

Alas! Why burden himself so?

Yet he understood that by now, he was like a boat sailing against the current—he could not turn back. If he were to shrink away, perhaps he could escape with his life; no one could kill him.

But what of those who followed him? Those who risked their lives in trust?

“Ah, life! If resistance is futile, one might as well enjoy it a little,” Yuan Ye muttered with a manic smile.

“Wait—this is absurd! Wasn’t I the one who enthusiastically chose this path? No one forced me! Resist what? Myself? How melodramatic! How foolish!”

His gaze sharpened, and a sense of unchallenged dominance surged forth, stirring the wind into a raging gale.

The forest fell utterly silent; all creatures trembled, paralyzed by the terrifying aura he released.

With a clear, piercing cry, his figure vanished from the boulder, leaving only that unending echo resounding through the mountains.