Chapter 109: The Boy Has Something to Say
The young boy watched as the maiden walked toward him, her steps light and graceful as she moved through the dimly lit corridor, like a young deer in the night.
Zhu Lu no longer bore her usual overbearing demeanor. Instead, she resembled a girl-next-door from childhood, smiling with playful charm.
Chen Ping'an seemed almost unable to believe his eyes. He slowed his pace, nearly coming to a halt, his eyes wide as he stared at that somewhat unfamiliar, delicate face.
Zhu Lu pulled her left hand from behind her back and waved at Chen Ping'an, calling out as she walked, "Chen Ping'an, about what happened on the stone platform at Qi Dun Mountain, my father wanted me to apologize to you..."
Five steps apart, the maiden who had reached the peak of the Second Realm suddenly lunged forward with explosive force. In just two strides, she was before Chen Ping'an in an instant, their faces nearly touching. Every detail of their features was laid bare. The maiden's face was a complex mix of ferocity, fury, exhilaration, and relief, while the boy's eyes, though shadowed with disappointment, were sharp and fierce, carrying the edge of a cleaver honed on the Dragon Slaying Platform.
Zhu Lu struck with her left fist aimed at the boy's forehead, using this as a feint. She even deliberately slowed the punch slightly.
Her true killing move lay in her right hand. As she struck with lightning speed, she held three sharp bamboo skewers, thrusting them straight toward the boy's heart.
Just as the skewers were about to pierce his chest, the maiden, who had launched this sudden attack, finally let the words she had left unfinished slip out, "I'm sorry!"
At this moment, there was nothing girlish or coquettish about the maiden—only ruthless cruelty.
But in the next instant, Zhu Lu's face was filled with shock. She knew something was wrong and tried to retreat.
Chen Ping'an raised his right hand swiftly, blocking not only the maiden's left punch but also taking advantage of her feigned weakness. His arm shot forward, and he grabbed Zhu Lu by the throat.
At the same time, the boy's left hand seized the maiden's right wrist, which concealed the deadly intent. He yanked it outward, preventing the three sugar-coated hawthorn skewers from stabbing into his heart. His grip on her neck tightened, and he pulled her toward him, driving a knee hard into her abdomen. The force was immense, nearly making her vomit bile. Her body instinctively curled up, and she instantly lost all combat ability. Chen Ping'an did not let his guard down. He showed no mercy, delivering a headbutt to her forehead.
The maiden staggered backward.
Chen Ping'an kicked out, striking her abdomen again. The maiden flew backward like a broken kite, landing heavily on the bluestone pavement of the corridor two zhang away. She struggled twice but could not get up. Blood seeped from the corners of her mouth, her face pale as paper, her beauty in ruins.
It was done in one smooth motion, with no mercy.
Zhu Lu propped herself up on her elbows, enduring the excruciating pain, and tried to crawl backward, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the straw-sandal-wearing boy, even if it was just an inch or a foot.
Chen Ping'an looked around. Nothing seemed amiss. He then walked toward the battered maiden, every muscle in his body tense, still cautious.
Zhu Lu was gripped by immense panic. Forgetting to wipe the blood from her lips, she explained tearfully, "Don't kill me, Chen Ping'an! I was just joking with you. I swear I'm not lying. If I wanted to kill you, why would I use these bamboo skewers from candied hawthorns? And why would I want to kill you..."
Chen Ping'an hit the nail on the head, saying, "When we parted at Guan Shui Street earlier, you dragged your father Zhu He off to visit weapons shops, didn't you? You were looking for something like a dagger, easy to hide in your sleeve. I guess the shops were closed, so you had to make do with bamboo skewers."
Zhu Lu suddenly laughed, her chest heaving violently. She coughed harshly, covering her mouth with her hand, but bright red blood kept seeping through her fingers. She let her hand fall, seeming resigned to her fate, and looked up at the boy who loomed over her. Her gaze traveled downward, finally settling on his rough, lowly straw sandals. She lifted her head again, as if possessed or mad, laughing instead of crying, staring intently at the boy closing in on her. She rasped, "I didn't expect you to be as stupid as I thought. But I'm curious—how did you know I was going to kill you?"
Her voice rose, her once-delicate face twisted in madness, "Chen Ping'an, before you kill me, can't you at least let me die knowing why?!"
Chen Ping'an did not stop. Instead, he asked, "Why?"
The maiden tried to sit up, but Chen Ping'an stepped on her forehead, forcing her head to strike the bluestone slab hard. She coughed up a mouthful of blood and gave up any attempt to rise. Deep down, the greatest humiliation was that a boy in straw sandals from a back alley could stand while she had to lie down, unable even to sit up.
Zhu Lu wiped the blood with the back of her hand and laughed, "Remember the letter your young master sent to the young miss? Our second young master excels at everything—music, chess, calligraphy, painting—especially running script, just like his personality, free and uninhibited. But before he left home for the capital, he suddenly said he wanted to learn regular script, because he said he needed to learn to obey the rules of the outside world and start disciplining his own nature."
Chen Ping'an crouched down, pried open her fingers, and took the three bamboo skewers, holding them in his own hand. He then sat on the bench in the corridor, his face expressionless, staring at Zhu Lu, not giving her any chance to cause trouble. But it was obvious that Zhu Lu had no hesitation in trying to kill him, with no second thoughts. However, for Chen Ping'an to kill her without any moral qualms was difficult, because between them were that little girl in the red cotton-padded jacket, the straightforward man Zhu He, and this so-called Second Young Master Li.
From the moment he saw her walking toward him from the corridor, Chen Ping'an knew Zhu Lu meant harm. And his eyesight was sharp. Her attempts at concealment were far from skillful—her trembling eyelashes, the clenching of her jaw, the cruel glint in her averted gaze—Chen Ping'an saw it all.
But he never imagined she would actually try to kill him.
When the maiden mentioned "her young master," her entire demeanor changed. She turned to look at the straw-sandal boy as if looking at a dog.
"Back then, when the young miss first mentioned the letter at Zhen Tou Post, the young master said the Peace Fire lit on the Great Li beacon towers stretched for thousands of miles, passing from the border to the capital. But the young miss didn't know, and none of you know, that before this, he had never told me about this 'border Peace Fire to report peace to the sovereign.' What tales and anecdotes he shared with me, from the time I can remember, I recall them all clearly!"
"So I sensed something was off. I asked the young miss for the letter, and sure enough, I saw the hidden meaning. In this world, only I, Zhu Lu, could see it!"
Chen Ping'an looked down at the fervent maiden and said nothing.
Zhu Lu was lost in her own world. In that moment, she was once again the arrogant, proud servant of the Li family, a martial arts prodigy fresh out of the gate. She continued, "Then I read it carefully twice. Just twice, and I found the correct answer. I solved the puzzle my young master had deliberately left for me!"
She looked at the boy's cold, dark face and sneered, "The young miss is a fickle child with an unstable temperament. Naturally, she couldn't grasp the young master's thoughtful intentions. He never placed his hopes on her from the start. He chose me. That letter, more than two thousand characters long, was almost entirely written in flowing running script, except for seven characters written in regular script!"
The maiden almost laughed until she cried, speaking haltingly, "Great Li's pillar of state, the eldest grandson of the Chen clan, kill horse bandits, Peace Fire, report peace, receive imperial decree."
Those seven characters were: "Kill Chen Ping'an, receive imperial decree!"
A scholar wields a blade without a sword.
Chen Ping'an frowned.
Zhu Lu held her churning abdomen, which was causing her to break out in cold sweat, but her mouth continued to mock, "Haven't you even heard of the term 'imperial decree'?"
She struggled to lean against the bench opposite the boy. This time, Chen Ping'an did not stop her.
She looked at the boy whom her young miss called "Little Martial Uncle." "Do you know what I wanted to do most besides killing you? Since you've learned to read so many characters, I wanted to put that letter in your hands. Maybe you'd feel ashamed, thinking there couldn't be such beautiful calligraphy or such brilliant prose in the world. You, Chen Ping'an, could read it ten or a hundred times, but you'd never know that the real knowledge was just those seven characters. Isn't that funny? I think it's hilarious—so funny I could die laughing!"
Chen Ping'an sat quietly on the bench, the scattered candied hawthorns lying beside him, untouched. He looked at Zhu Lu and twitched the corner of his mouth. "If it weren't for Zhu He, today you really would have 'died laughing.'"
He stood up and said slowly, "I know you said all this for your father to hear. And I know that struggling to get up just now was a trap to make me attack you, so that Zhu He would have no choice—either I kill you, or he kills me. Am I right?"
Zhu Lu's face darkened, and she said nothing.
Zhu He had appeared in the corridor at some point, his fists clenched, veins bulging on the backs of his hands, his face full of pain. The man looked at the pair of young boy and girl.
One was his beloved daughter, the other a junior he admired.
Zhu Lu wiped the blood from her lips with her thumb, lowered her head slightly, but kept her eyes on the straw-sandal boy.
She slowly turned her head. For once, the maiden's face was calm as she looked at the familiar figure. "Given our young miss's temper, if she finds out about all this, even if I don't die, I'll be flayed alive. My life will be over. Dad, I beg you, don't be soft-hearted. Hurry up and do it while that A Liang from Wind and Snow Temple hasn't returned! The young master said, 'Hesitation leads to chaos.'"
Chen Ping'an suddenly turned, bent down, and picked up a candied hawthorn from the ground, popping it into his mouth and chewing.
Then he stood in the middle of the corridor, facing off against Zhu He.
The boy said softly to the maiden, "You're going to die."
Zhu Lu's heart sank.
Her father and Chen Ping'an were about fifteen paces apart.
Although Chen Ping'an's martial realm was not high, his movements were agile, as the maiden had witnessed.
She was a bit annoyed. Her father shouldn't have appeared so openly at such a distance.
In a life-and-death struggle, what kind of expert's demeanor was that?!
Zhu Lu spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the ground and said, "If you've got the guts, try it then."
She looked at her father and warned, "Dad, if you don't strike today, I'll kill myself! No matter what, capture Chen Ping'an first!"
As for what to do after capturing him—if her father wouldn't kill him, she would.
Zhu Lu had already gathered her remaining strength, ready to counter any attempt by Chen Ping'an to use her as a hostage against her father.
Her father had once inadvertently said that if they ever faced this low-born brat from Ni Ping Alley in a restrained sparring match, she would have a chance of winning. But in a life-or-death battle, she would die without a doubt. At first, she didn't believe it at all. But after the incident on the stone platform at Qi Dun Mountain, when she faced the white python, Zhu Lu was so terrified she lost all will to fight, paralyzed and waiting to die. In contrast, Chen Ping'an surpassed her in both courage and timing.
This had nearly shattered her martial arts resolve. Once her spirit broke, her path in martial arts would come to an end.
So even when, at the border of Qi Dun Mountain before entering Red Candle Town, the local deity Wei Bo gave each of them a parting gift, and under Zhu He's insistence, she received the so-called immortal cultivation manual "Purple Qi Scripture"—a martial arts treasure that countless warriors in the mortal world dreamed of—the maiden's spirits did not lift much.
As for matters of spirit, it has always been easy to fall and hard to rise.
How could a rough man like Zhu He, a pure martial artist obsessed with martial arts advancement, understand that?
But the arrival of that letter was like the young master giving her direct instructions, like charcoal in the snow. It rekindled hope in the maiden, who had discerned the hidden meaning. She told herself that she must practice martial arts, at least to become a grandmaster like her father, to earn merits on the battlefield, and to make the title "Lady of Imperial Decree" come naturally.
Especially now that she and her father possessed the Hero's Gall from True Martial Mountain and the "Purple Qi Scripture" written by mountain immortals. As Zhu He himself said, he could now even dare to think about the glory of the Seventh Realm. So why shouldn't she, Zhu Lu, dare to think about the glorious days she had never dared to imagine before?
But all these bright prospects and broad roads rested on a small premise.
Chen Ping'an must die.
So the maiden, knowing she was no match for the boy in direct combat, needed a hidden assassination attempt. As the boy had exposed, she needed a dagger. Unfortunately, the weapons shop was closed.
Her father had brought up the need to apologize to Chen Ping'an, and Chen Ping'an and the young miss Li Baoping had mentioned buying candied hawthorns.
A dagger can kill, and a bamboo skewer from a candied hawthorn, in the hands of a martial artist at the Second Realm peak, could also kill.
Afraid that a single skewer might break, the maiden said she would bring two skewers for Chen Ping'an and Li Baoping, but she held three together. She didn't believe she couldn't pierce the boy's heart.
Everything was interlocked.
This showed Zhu Lu's quick wit and resourcefulness.
The never-seen Second Young Master Li's ability to recognize talent and deploy people correctly was also evident.
Because Zhu Lu's true brilliance lay in the fact that she had not only found a way out for herself but also forced her father Zhu He, a Fifth Realm martial artist, onto a path with no return.
Either she died, or Chen Ping'an died.
Zhu He looked at the poor boy with his hair tied up and a jade hairpin, and said the three words that should have come sincerely from his daughter: "I'm sorry."
Chen Ping'an smiled and said, "It's okay. The path is one's own choice."
The strange smile on the straw-sandal boy's face carried a chilling aura.
This absurd feeling was especially clear to the maiden not far away.
Back on Qi Dun Mountain, after his sparring match with Zhu He, Chen Ping'an had sensed that the three qi palaces in his body had forced even the rampaging qi fire dragon to pass by without entering. It was only then that he realized those three places contained three tiny strands of sword qi, connected to his intention, with no threshold to use.
Later, when he blew up the white python's head, the boy used one strand.
To save his life, using another strand—he felt it wasn't a loss.
But the boy felt that the next time he used sword qi, he had to come out ahead. Always breaking even wasn't a good thing.
This trap, carefully laid with malicious intent.
The maiden Zhu Lu had said a lot.
Chen Ping'an had spoken only a few times, with no more than a handful of words in total.
So the boy felt he should say something, for himself and for the immortal sister who needed him alive to survive. Otherwise, he wouldn't feel at ease.
The boy stepped forward with one straw sandal and back with the other.
He bent his knees, lowering his center of gravity, pressing two fingers together, pointing at the man at the far end of the corridor. His lips moved slightly.
Whether it was telepathy or ancestral protection, the maiden Zhu Lu felt an inexplicable terror and screamed, "No!"
Zhu He himself felt his scalp tingle. A martial grandmaster of the Fifth Realm was suddenly mired in a mental quagmire, unable to move a limb.
The boy muttered to himself, "Sword, come!"
(Chapter End)
(Three Seven Chinese Dot Net)