Linghu Chong never imagined that Tian Boguang, whose martial arts were on par with their master and mistress, would die just like that.
Clearly, both of their martial skills were inferior to his, yet aside from Linghu Chong suffering some injuries, Junior Sister Yixiu only had minor wounds and managed to finish him off. It was truly unbelievable. He couldn’t help but say, “Evil meets its retribution. Tian Boguang ran rampant without restraint; even Heaven couldn’t stand it.”
“What nonsense are you spouting?” Zhong Lingxiu was crouched by the stream, washing her hands, protesting, “It was my careful planning, my painstaking efforts, and flawless strategy that made it a success, okay?”
Linghu Chong: “……” That sounded like a breach of the no-anger precept.
“I was the one who initially tracked him down. Although I ruined his schemes several times, I never once revealed any intention to kill.” Zhong Lingxiu wasn’t speaking without reason and reviewed the events. “I never shouted at him to attack or kill, never provoked his temper, so he never truly tried to finish me off. Later, when he realized I was a woman, he teased and toyed with me, but I didn’t say anything.”
Looking back now, the very beginning was actually the most dangerous. Her martial arts were weak, her experience lacking. If Tian Boguang had really intended to kill her, she would have been dead. Fortunately, she feigned weakness, was cautious with her words, ran when she couldn’t fight, and thus got the chance to familiarize herself with his fighting style, leaving room for counterattack later.
Last night’s thunderstorm and murderous violence were even more crucial. By seizing the advantages of time and place little by little, she was able to land a sneak attack successfully today.
“I was patient. I chased him for nearly a month, enduring hunger and hardship, never thinking of giving up. No nonsense, never revealing my background, ignoring trivialities. When the time came to poison, I poisoned. When it was time to ambush, I ambushed. I was cautious to the end, waiting until you arrived before making the move, so I wouldn’t be tricked.” She counted on her fingers. “I almost made no mistakes, but he made too many.”
Linghu Chong was initially at a loss for words, but hearing her say all this, he thought it made quite a bit of sense.
“Junior Sister, you are meticulous, persistent, and intelligent, truly extraordinary.” He nodded. His habit of speaking without thinking flared up again, “It’s just that you don’t seem much like someone from the Mount Heng Sect.”
Zhong Lingxiu was unoffended: “You don’t seem much like Sect Leader Yue, either.”
“Master is a gentleman; how could I compare?” Linghu Chong said ashamedly. “If Master ever found out I drank with Tian Boguang, he’d definitely scold me.”
“Right and wrong shouldn’t be judged by appearances.” Zhong Lingxiu glanced at him but said no more, flicking her hand, “Alright, it’s time to go down the mountain. I’m hungry.”
Linghu Chong sighed, “We should have a good jug of wine.”
“I’ll treat you.”
He was overjoyed: “I’ve been waiting to hear that from you.”
The two walked down the mountain together.
Linghu Chong asked, “Do you really want to carry his head?”
“Of course. Words alone are not proof; I must have a token to bring to Mount Heng to offer in memory of my master.” She said, “I dug a pit and buried the body. I have fulfilled my duty.”
“Tian brother was bold and straightforward, but a thief nonetheless.” Linghu Chong plucked a blade of grass and held it in his mouth, sighing, “May he be a good man in his next life.”
Zhong Lingxiu felt nothing inwardly. Once dead, all is done. At this moment, her mind was only filled with the satisfaction of revenge and the subtle feelings of killing for the first time. There was no time to ponder the fate of a lecherous bandit. Better to get down the mountain soon, eat a good meal in town, rent a room to rest, and write a letter to Ding Yi Shitai before she started worrying… huh, why does my head feel heavy? My vision is blurring?
Poisoned?
Internal injury?
Who ambushed me? Did I run into the demonic cult?
Zhong Lingxiu forced her eyelids open but saw nothing unusual.
A moment later, she belatedly realized the answer — it seemed she hadn’t slept for four or five days. She was just tired.
Then it was nothing serious.
She closed her eyes peacefully and bumped her head against Linghu Chong.
Linghu Chong was startled beyond belief, nearly choking on the blade of grass in his mouth: “Cough cough, Junior Sister? Yixiu Junior Master? Wake up—”
This sleep lasted from day until night for Zhong Lingxiu.
She knew she was dreaming. Her body lay on a soft bed, rapidly restoring the accumulated fatigue of days, but her spirit was on Jianxing Peak at Mount Heng, practicing sword moves beneath a tree.
Swish—A smile plucked from a flower.
Swish swish—Beneath the Bodhi tree.
Swish swish swish—Cutting flesh to feed the hawk.
The entire swordplay flowed like water, composed and natural, without the slightest stiffness. Formerly distinct moves merged into one seamless whole, performed in a single breath with unprecedented pleasure.
She didn’t know if this was a “reward” or a qualitative change brought on by a month of constant fighting, but one thing was beyond doubt.
The Mount Heng swordsmanship had become fully integrated.
She eagerly comprehended this profound sensation, correcting flaws in her previous sword techniques, feeling the joy of progressing from 80% to 100%.
So this is how it is, so this is it!!!
The experience was so wonderful that upon waking, she was reluctant to open her eyes, savoring it for a long while before finally blinking open.
Rumble—As soon as she was fully awake, her stomach rebelled loudly, sounding the drums of hunger.
“You’re awake?” Linghu Chong suddenly sat up against the wall, relieved, “The doctor said you’re fine, but I was still doubtful.”
Zhong Lingxiu rubbed her sleepy eyes, “How long did I sleep?”
“Six hours.” Linghu Chong recalled the day’s events. She collapsed just like that, terrifying him so much he lost all composure, hesitated to check her pulse for a long time, and finally had no choice but to carry her and search for a village doctor. After much difficulty, they found one who said she was only asleep and nearly kicked them out.
Fortunately, since she dressed like a man, they found an inn to settle in and stayed until late at night.
“That’s good.” Zhong Lingxiu felt refreshed and spirited. Seeing Linghu Chong looking listless while clutching his wine gourd, she smiled, “You rest; I’ll find us some food.”
She wasn’t as stunning as Yilin, nor as cute and innocent as Yue Lingshan, but now, with the moon high in the western sky casting a soft, thin light on her face, she looked more moving than a mountain stream. Linghu Chong was momentarily speechless. Luckily, she didn’t notice. Seeing her boots firmly on, she got off the bed and stepped outside.
It was the dead of night. The waiters were all asleep, but that didn’t matter. A corner silver coin was enough to open the door and ask them to work overtime to cook a bowl of noodles, rewarding the unlucky female hero’s hungry belly, and a couple jugs of wine to comfort the famous drunkard.
“Only Junior Sister truly understands me.” Linghu Chong had been worried about her condition before and hadn’t dared indulge his craving for alcohol. Now, he finally felt at ease and drank himself into a stupor.
Zhong Lingxiu ignored him, borrowed paper and brush, and wrote a letter back to Mount Heng: the great enmity had been avenged, and she was sending back the enemy’s head so that Master could rest in peace, and Yi Zhen would be comforted.
By the time she finished, dawn was breaking. She asked the waiter where the nearest escort agency was and went to entrust them with a delivery.
Only then did she realize she had pursued Tian Boguang all the way from Zhengzhou in Henan to Runing, crossed Xinyang the day before yesterday, and was now in Hubei Province. The most famous escort agency there was none other than the renowned Fu Wei Escort Agency.
However, Lin Pingzhi and the others were in Fuzhou, so Zhong Lingxiu only met the branch manager at the Fu Wei Escort Agency. The manager took thirty taels of silver from her before agreeing to speed up the delivery of the head back to the mountain.
With this urgent matter done, Zhong Lingxiu finally had leisure to stroll the streets.
She spent a fortune buying a treasured sword. Her original long sword was riddled with dents and pits, no longer able to bear the burden. She sold it back to the smithy for one tael and the dagger was still usable after sharpening. She also commissioned the smith to make two iron boxes with hooks and rings on both sides to carry dry provisions and to hang on a wooden frame for boiling water—something like a rustic stainless steel lunchbox.
Her worn-out set of clothes was replaced with new ones, and she bought two matching hair ribbons.
After dropping a spice pouch in the river, she bought two more to replace it. With the soles of her shoes worn thin, she bought three pairs of soap leather boots in succession.
Now she was wealthy enough not to have to pawn old clothes. Heh heh, money is truly wonderful.
Freshly prepared, Zhong Lingxiu returned to the inn and patted the drunken Linghu Chong: “Wake up.”
Linghu Chong barely opened his eyes: “What time is it?”
“Noon.” She put down the bundle. “I bought you new clothes and a sword. Go clean up, then I’ll buy some things for your wife and younger junior sister.”
“Ah?” Linghu Chong was stunned, bewildered.
Apart from the mistress, this was the first time in his life a girl had ever given him clothes. Could he just accept this? Or was he still dreaming and his mind was filled with wild thoughts?
“This is one hundred taels of silver, which I exchanged especially.” Zhong Lingxiu saw he was still not fully awake, carefully shoved the heavy pouch into his arms, and pulled his collar tight to cover it. “A family gave me this as a gift to thank me. You helped me kill Tian Boguang, so you get a share.”
She still had more than three hundred taels of silver left, enough to live comfortably for years. Linghu Chong had helped her a lot this time and shouldn’t be injured for nothing.
Linghu Chong came to his senses and refused repeatedly, “Upholding justice is our duty; how can I accept your money?”
“Take it.” Zhong Lingxiu sighed, worried about her companion. “You’re already grown up, still need your master to give you pocket money for drinking, and buying things for your junior sister with your master and mistress’s money isn’t right.”
Linghu Chong had never thought of this. Her words made his face flush red. “Then I definitely can’t accept it.”
“It’s just money; don’t fuss.” She instructed. “Alright, shave that beard, clean up, and hurry back to Mount Hua. Your wife must be worried.”
Linghu Chong realized belatedly, “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, this is our farewell.” The slanting sunlight shone through, turning her black hair to golden threads, and her flowing sleeves seemed to glow. She walked to the door; her cheeks were almost translucent. “Until we meet again.”
“…Until we meet again.” He stared at her back, feeling a sudden emptiness.
Since coming from the modern era, Zhong Lingxiu was already used to partings and reunions, with no lingering attachments. She left without hesitation, stopping only to eat a bowl of red chili wontons at the city gate.
Then she headed south to Fuzhou.
Having left the capital, she had to visit Fuzhou. If the opportunity arose, she planned to sneak a look at the .
Her reason was very simple.
Her Mount Heng swordplay was now fully integrated. To be frank, compared with Dingxian Shitai and the others, the only difference was in internal energy cultivation, not sword techniques. The Mount Heng Sect could hardly help her improve much further in martial arts.
Poor girl, only eighteen years old and already stuck at this level—how was that going to work?
She had to find another way to advance.
The best martial art in The Smiling, Proud Wanderer was none other than the Dugu Nine Swords, but Feng Qingyang was too hard to find, and the Sunflower Manual was in Dongfang Bubai’s hands, out of her reach. The Fu Wei Escort Agency was the only soft target left; if she wasn’t going to squeeze them, who else?
Besides, “To master divine skill, one must first castrate oneself” was the most notorious trope in wuxia. Since she was already here, who wouldn’t want to take a peek?
It was rare to be off the mountain without sect restrictions. If not now, then when?!
I’m going.
She bought a green donkey from a farmer as a mount—cheap, easy to care for, and a chance to practice riding. Passing by a bookstore, she bought an old book, a Tang poetry anthology compiled by a Ming dynasty scholar. Zhong Lingxiu only recognized characters from Buddhist scriptures here, and many were traditional characters she didn’t know. She could recite many Tang poems and used them for comparison and copying to learn more common characters, so she wouldn’t be stumped by any obscure words in the sword manual.
A literate modern person with an unmatched sword manual but unable to read it—that would be a disgrace for a transmigrator.
Sun beating down, wind blowing, rain drumming on bamboo leaves.
The southern summer heat grew more oppressive by the day.
Wearing a thin ramie robe, Zhong Lingxiu arrived in Fuzhou in mid-June.
Fuzhou was famous for fish balls and meat swallow dumplings.
Therefore, her first task upon entering the city was to find a busy stall and order a serving of fish ball rice noodles.
The steaming bowl arrived, living up to her expectations. The broth was delicious, the fish balls tender and springy, and just a few bites later, the bowl was emptied.
“Ah, so delicious.”
She burped contentedly, feeling joyful and light.