Chapter 18: ruined temple

Traveling the Jianghu, the hardest part was enduring the bitter cold and scorching heat.

By now, summer had already arrived in the north. Walking through the desolate wilderness at midday was unbearably hot, so the only option was to take refuge in the forest.

Zhong Lingxiu whittled two slender branches, carefully used them to hold a metal box, and took out the boiling water from the fire.

She then pulled out a white steamed bun, tore it into pieces, and soaked them in the water.

Next, she cracked open a bird’s egg she had found in the woods. The egg white slid into the boiling stream water, quickly coagulating into sheets, while the yolk sank to the bottom, darkening rapidly.

Finally, she added a chunk of salt to season the soup.

Lunch was complete.

Carrying the bowl, she leapt onto a tree trunk and climbed steadily, soon reaching the canopy.

She found a sturdy branch to sit on, eating her meal while gazing into the distance.

At the edge of the forest, near the liquor stall, two shadowy figures could be seen.

It had been three days since the clash at the brothel, and two and a half days since leaving Runing City.

Linghu Chong was still alive.

On the first day, he lay on horseback, repeatedly trying to break free but was always caught and restrained by Tian Boguang.

On the second day, he was suddenly allowed to sit at the table to eat, only his hands tied, and was able to ride the horse himself.

On the third day—that was today—they were drinking together at the same table.

Zhong Lingxiu was greatly shocked and couldn’t understand Tian Boguang’s intentions, but she admired Linghu Chong’s skill at bluffing.

No matter what, this was not a bad development.

Though aided by her golden finger, having Linghu Chong by Tian Boguang’s side made it much easier for her to track him.

Besides, Linghu Chong wouldn’t allow Tian Boguang to harm another young woman without resistance; on that point, they had already accomplished part of their mission.

Unfortunately, she still had no idea how to kill him.

Wiping her mouth, Zhong Lingxiu climbed down the tree and washed the bowl by the stream.

Shaking off the water, she packed her belongings and climbed up again to scout.

She noticed a group had arrived at the liquor stall.

There were horses, moving quickly—likely people from the Jianghu.

They sat down.

Linghu Chong appeared to be drinking.

Suddenly, someone slammed the table and stood up, drawing a sword and swinging it toward Tian Boguang.

Tian Boguang stood firm without a flinch; she couldn’t see what exactly he did, only that a corner of the straw hut roof collapsed, and a figure fell to the ground.

The others closed in, then drew weapons and pointed them at Tian Boguang, burning with righteous fury.

Another fight broke out.

Another person went down.

Linghu Chong stood and said something.

Tian Boguang laughed heartily, grabbed Linghu Chong by the collar, threw him onto the horse, then calmly picked up his wine jug, mounted his horse with ease, and slowly rode off along the narrow mountain path.

Zhong Lingxiu shook her head and sighed.

No wonder Tian Boguang’s notorious reputation still allowed him to roam freely; ordinary Jianghu folks were no match for him.

Such an enemy was truly difficult to deal with.

She climbed down, untied the reins from the tree trunk, petted the old horse she had bought, and awkwardly mounted.

The old horse swished its tail and slowly galloped in the direction she indicated.

As she passed the liquor stall, bright red blood soaked the mud.

The shopkeeper looked glum, pouring water to wash the stains away.

She pulled out a dozen copper coins, bought a jug of wine and two steamed buns, then followed the horse tracks.

Dark clouds gathered, and a cool breeze blew.

Zhong Lingxiu quickened her pace, but the heavens showed no mercy as rain began to fall.

Large raindrops hammered against her bamboo hat, turning into long, crystalline curtains that blurred her vision.

She sighed helplessly, cracked her whip twice to urge the old horse toward the ruined temple ahead.

The torrential rain poured down, thunder crashed, and summer thunderstorms were always unpredictable.

Linghu Chong stumbled into the broken temple and sat down on a flat spot, idly twirling a blade of grass in his hand.

“Tian brother, this rain really comes at the worst possible time.”

“Let them come, they wouldn’t dare catch up,” Tian Boguang dusted off his garment hems, shaking off the water, “Not everyone in the world dares to cross me again and again.”

Linghu Chong said, “Your martial skill is naturally outstanding, but your temperament surely earns you many enemies.”

“A true man lives in this world without caring for others’ opinions,” Tian Boguang said dismissively.

Just as he was about to speak more, he caught the sound of hooves outside and raised an eyebrow toward the doorway.

Raindrops splashed into muddy puddles, blurring a figure as it penetrated the rain curtain.

Boots caked with mud stepped into the temple.

She wore a simple pale cotton robe under a rough dark brown hemp overcoat.

Her braided hair was slightly loose from the journey, two wisps of hair peeking out from under a black headscarf.

She was of average height, lean and fit, her footsteps light but firm, barely rustling the dry twigs she stepped on.

Drip, drip.

She removed her straw hat, letting the rainwater trickle down the knots, winding like little streams across the dusty ground.

Linghu Chong smiled, “Junior sister.”

“Todays’ luck is good,” Tian Boguang said, “You’re finally willing to show yourself?”

He held onto his sword sheath, teasing, “I wouldn’t bully you. Earlier, a group attacked me, but I sat down and dealt with them. Facing you would be the same.”

“If we start fighting now, this temple surely won’t hold up. Are you looking forward to us getting soaked by the rain and shivering in the cold wind?” Zhong Lingxiu asked with suspicion, “You can risk your life and hang yourself if you want, but I don’t want to die.”

Tian Boguang, seasoned as he was, knew well that being soaked through with no way to dry off immediately—even with internal power—wouldn’t last long.

There was no village nearby, the rain was heavy and fast.

If a fight broke out here, they would both end up wounded, stranded in the wilderness.

Yet he wouldn’t admit this openly.

He sneered, “Never thought a disciple from a famous sect would be so cowardly.”

“You’re the one who’s scared,” Zhong Lingxiu grabbed some dry branches from the corner and lit them with a tinderbox, using the flames to dry her boots.

“Such fine martial skill, yet you don’t go after villains, only bullying weak women. You’re fierce in appearance but timid inside. If your mother knew what kind of man you turned out to be, she should have sent your father to the palace to be punished for the people.”

Linghu Chong was dumbfounded.

In his memory, Junior Sister Yixiu was always dignified and well-behaved, never quarrelsome, a perfect nun except for secretly eating meat.

Who would have thought that once she broke her vows, she could speak such harsh words?

Never judge a book by its cover.

Tian Boguang was also provoked.

He slapped his knee hard, and the sword sheath across his legs gleamed as it suddenly flew toward the figure near the fire.

Zhong Lingxiu never let her guard down in the same room with him.

Her right hand held onto her sword’s hilt, and seeing his move, she immediately drew her long sword to block.

The room was dim, the shadows blurry.

Only the clanging of metal against metal could be heard, three moves exchanged.

Tian Boguang’s brow furrowed.

Twenty days ago, they had their first fight at Liufang Courtyard in Zhengzhou.

Back then, she was awkward, her brilliant sword moves hindered by inexperience and full of flaws.

When she fought again at the Bai family mansion in Runing, her swordplay was much smoother.

Two days later, appearing alongside Linghu Chong, her movements were fluid and free-flowing, improved yet another notch.

Today’s rematch showed even more composure.

Such visible improvement undoubtedly added pressure on him.

Tian Boguang’s eyes darkened, filled with murderous intent.

Linghu Chong sensed it immediately and said, “Tian brother, we agreed to rest today, are you going back on your word?”

His hands were tied, no weapons nearby.

His eyes quickly scanned for anything useful.

“With such heavy rain, we’re not the only ones trying to stay dry.”

Tian Boguang hesitated.

If it were just him and the little nun, he wouldn’t care about promises.

But Linghu Chong was honorable and bold.

After three days together, he somewhat respected him, even considered him a half-friend.

He didn’t want his friend to underestimate him, and worried that if a fight really broke out, the broken temple would be destroyed, leaving them no shelter from the rain.

“I keep my word,” he said calmly, “But summer rains come fast and leave just as fast—”

He didn’t need to finish; the threat was clear.

Zhong Lingxiu didn’t bother responding.

She closed her eyes slightly, replaying the recent fight in her mind.

When sparring with a fellow disciple, there was time to observe changes in moves, find flaws, and seize chances to counterattack.

But Tian Boguang’s “Flying Sand and Rolling Stones Thirteen Forms” were so fast, leaving her almost no time, forcing her to rely purely on instinct.

Instinct was a sum of experience, reaction speed, and basic ability.

Every time she reviewed the fight, she found one or two moments where she’d performed beyond herself.

Usually, her thinking was slow and her moves hesitant.

But when acting without thought, her speed improved and she handled things quite deftly.

She needed to remember this feeling so that next time her brain would react in time and she’d make the right move.

Half a month ago, she still couldn’t keep up with his strikes, only able to follow the afterimages.

Today, she seemed to understand a bit more of his patterns.

After much analysis, she still found no flaws.

Zhong Lingxiu sighed deeply, crossing one leg over the other, and continued warming her boots.

These black leather boots were expensive but sadly not waterproof.

After walking two hours in the rain, the insides were soaked.

Her cloth socks were slippery and damp; her toes felt like they were turning white from soaking—uncomfortably so.

Oh well, better to cultivate some internal energy to warm them.

She sat cross-legged, circulating her qi through her body to dispel the penetrating chill.

The large raindrops kept falling; the sky darkened as distant thunder drew closer.

Blue and white lightning slashed across the sky.

Zhong Lingxiu pulled out a meat bun from her bundle and roasted it on the dagger.

Her thoughts returned.

At her current martial level, the best she could do was memorize the fast blade’s patterns and respond smoothly to defense.

Finding a flaw in the Flying Sand and Rolling Stones Thirteen Forms and breaking it was nearly impossible.

The best plan was to rescue Linghu Chong and return to Hengshan to find Abbess Dingxian.

Have her demonstrate the thirteen forms, find a counter, then train diligently before seeking revenge on Tian Boguang.

This was the most reasonable, cautious, and responsible course of action.

Unfortunately, it was also Zhong Lingxiu’s safety net.

Patience, waiting for the right moment, thinking thrice before acting—she was tired of this modern approach.

She hoped Tian Boguang’s evil would end the moment she confronted him, and there would be no next victim.

Doing what others couldn’t—that was how she would not waste this second life.

But if this was truly how she felt deep down, was she being too cautious?

Hengshan’s cultivation emphasized defense, but now endless defense could no longer achieve her goal.

The bun gave off a sweet, slightly burnt aroma.

She blew on it, carefully taking a bite.

It tasted delicious.

Linghu Chong smacked his lips and smiled, “Tian brother, any wine left?”

Tian Boguang tossed over a wine jar.

He grabbed it and drank greedily, not worried for a second that it might be drugged.

Full, he lay down wherever, closed his eyes, and listened to the pouring rain.

Hardly a prisoner—more like carefree and at ease.

“Linghu Chong, your martial arts may be low, but your personality suits me,” Tian Boguang said.

“If you swear not to interfere in the feud between me and the little nun, I’ll let you go. What do you say?”

Linghu Chong sat up straight at once, serious, “Thank you for your kindness, Tian brother, but that is absolutely impossible.”

Tian Boguang snorted, “You love her deeply, but she may not feel the same. Hengshan sect knows about your relationship, how could they let you go?”

“I’m fighting not only for my junior sister but also for you, Tian brother,” Linghu Chong said, taking a sip of wine, sighing.

“You’re straightforward and generous, yet you choose a dishonorable path. I really pity you, and cannot bear to see you repeatedly go astray.”

“You don’t understand the charms of a woman,” Tian Boguang laughed, “Men loving beauty is only natural.”