Cunning Youth, Part Ten

Wei Wuxian finally confirmed which scene this was before his eyes.

That year, Nie Mingjue had received intelligence and launched a surprise attack at Yangquan.

Chifeng-zun always took the offensive and never failed. Yet, whether the intelligence was flawed or human schemes could not match heaven's calculations, he never expected that this surprise attack would run straight into Wen Ruohan, the head of the Qishan Wen Clan.

The strength estimate was wrong; the Qishan Wen turned the tables, capturing all the attacking cultivators and taking them prisoner back to Nightless City.

Meng Yao half-knelt beside Nie Mingjue and said, 'I truly never imagined that you would have a day as wretched as this.'

Nie Mingjue only said two words: 'Get away.'

Meng Yao's laugh carried a note of pity: 'Do you still think you're the King of Hejian? Look carefully. This is Yanyang Hall.'

A nearby cultivator spat and said, 'What Yanyang Hall, it's nothing but a den of Wen dogs!'

Meng Yao's expression changed, and his longsword left its sheath.

A line of blood instantly shot from that cultivator's neck; he fell without even a grunt. His fellow disciples cried out in grief and rushed to him. Nie Mingjue, enraged, shouted, 'You!'

Another cultivator roared, 'Wen dog! If you have the guts, kill me too...' Meng Yao didn't even raise an eyebrow; with a backhand slash, he opened a spray of blood at the man's throat and smiled: 'Very well.'

He stood before the pool of blood, sword in hand, the two white-clad cultivators' corpses at his feet, and said with a gentle smile: 'Does anyone else wish to say that word?'

Nie Mingjue said coldly: 'Wen dog.'

He knew full well that falling into Wen Ruohan's hands meant certain death, so he feared nothing. If Wei Wuxian were in such a situation, he would also curse to his heart's content before anything else, since death was inevitable either way. But Meng Yao only smiled slightly, not angered, and snapped his fingers. A Wen cultivator crawled forward on his knees, raising his arms above his head to present a long box into Meng Yao's hands. Meng Yao opened it and took out an item, saying, 'Sect-leader Nie, why not see what this is?'

It was Nie Mingjue's saber, Bixia!

Nie Mingjue raged: 'Get away from me!'

But Meng Yao had already drawn Bixia and held it, saying, 'Sect-leader Nie, Bixia has been in my hands many times before. Isn't it too late to get angry now?'

Nie Mingjue said, word by word: 'Take. Your. Hands. Off!'

Yet Meng Yao seemed intent on provoking him. He hefted the saber, appraising it: 'This blade of yours, Sect-leader Nie, qualifies as a first-rank spiritual tool, barely. But compared to the blade of your father, Old Sect Leader Nie, it's a little inferior. Why don't you guess — how many strikes this time before it breaks under Sect-leader Wen's hand?'

In that instant, all the blood in Nie Mingjue's body rushed to his head. Wei Wuxian, too, was jolted numb by that sudden surge of fury, thinking: 'Vicious.'

The thing Nie Mingjue hated most in life, the thing he could never let go of, was his father's death.

Back when Nie Mingjue was only in his teens and the head of the Qinghe Nie Sect was still his father, someone presented a treasure saber to Wen Ruohan. Wen Ruohan was pleased for a few days and asked the guest retainers around him, 'What do you think of this blade of mine?'

He was always capricious, turning on people at the drop of a hat. Naturally, everyone flattered him according to his wishes, praising the blade as peerless. But among the retainers, one person — whether because of some grudge against Old Sect Leader Nie, or because he wanted to give a different answer to attract attention — said, 'Your blade is incomparable, of course. However, I fear there is someone who might not think so.'

Wen Ruohan was displeased and asked who. That retainer said, 'Naturally, the head of the Qinghe Nie Sect. His family has been renowned for saber cultivation for generations. He's always boasting about how his treasured blade is invincible under heaven, unmatched in all the world, how no blade in centuries can equal his — utterly arrogant. No matter how fine your blade, he'd never admit it. Even if he did with his lips, in his heart he'd never concede.'

Wen Ruohan burst out laughing and said, 'Is that so? I'd like to see.' So he immediately summoned Old Sect Leader Nie from Qinghe, took his blade, examined it for a while, and finally said: 'Mm, indeed a fine blade.' He clapped it a few times and sent him back.

At the time, nothing seemed amiss. Old Sect Leader Nie was merely displeased at being summoned and dismissed at will, though he didn't understand why. Who could have known that a few days later, during a Night Hunt, when his saber struck a fierce beast, it suddenly shattered into several pieces. Then, he was gravely wounded by the beast's horn.

And Nie Mingjue, who had been night-hunting alongside his father, saw it with his own eyes.

After Old Sect Leader Nie was rescued and brought back, he could not swallow this anger, and his wounds refused to heal. He lingered in illness for half a year, then finally passed away. Whether he died of fury or of sickness, no one could say. The reason Nie Mingjue and the entire Qinghe Nie Sect so bitterly loathed the Qishan Wen Clan lay exactly in this.

And now, right before Wen Ruohan, Meng Yao held his blade and brought up the bitter memory of his father's blade shattering and his death — it was maliciousness beyond measure!

Nie Mingjue struck out with a palm, sending Meng Yao staggering back, spitting blood. At this, the figure on the jade throne leaned forward slightly, as if about to act. Meng Yao immediately scrambled up and rushed over, kicking Nie Mingjue square in the chest. That palm strike had already drained Nie Mingjue greatly; sent crashing heavily to the ground, the hot blood that had been pent up in his chest could no longer be suppressed. And Wei Wuxian was utterly dumbstruck.

There were so many versions of the tale, but he had never, ever imagined that among them was this splendid detail: Lianfang-zun kicking Chifeng-zun!

Meng Yao pinned Nie Mingjue's chest with his foot and shouted, 'In Sect-leader Wen's presence, you still dare to run wild!' As he spoke, he stabbed down with his sword. Nie Mingjue struck out a palm, shattering Meng Yao's longsword into pieces. Meng Yao was also thrown back by that palm strike. Nie Mingjue was about to bring his second palm down on Meng Yao's crown when his body was suddenly dragged in another direction by an abnormal pulling force.

That direction was Wen Ruohan's jade throne. Nie Mingjue's entire body was dragged rapidly across the black-jade floor, leaving a trail of blood three zhang long, still sliding.

Nie Mingjue grabbed a kneeling Wen disciple and hurled him toward the throne. With a bang, red blood burst in the air as if a watermelon had been smashed, pulp splattering everywhere. Wen Ruohan had cloven the disciple's skull to pieces with a single palm strike from a distance. But this bought Nie Mingjue a moment. Rage suddenly gave him immense strength; he leaped up, formed a hand seal, and Bixia flew toward him. Meng Yao cried, 'Sect-leader, careful!'

A voice howled with laughter: 'It's nothing!'

It was a young voice. Wei Wuxian was not surprised; Wen Ruohan's cultivation was extremely high, so his body was naturally maintained at its peak. Nie Mingjue's hand had just closed around Bixia's hilt when he swung out, and the dozens of Wen cultivators who rushed to surround him were all cut in two at the waist!

Mutilated corpses lay strewn across the black-jade floor. Suddenly, a shiver ran down Wei Wuxian's spine.

Another figure had appeared behind him. Nie Mingjue made a fierce horizontal slash, shattering a long stretch of floor with spiritual power, but struck empty. His chest felt like it had taken a heavy blow; he crashed into a golden pillar in the hall, coughing up hot blood. More blood streamed from his forehead, his vision growing blurry. Sensing someone approaching, he swung his blade again, but this time a punch struck him squarely in the chest, sinking his whole body into the jade floor.

Sharing his five senses, Wei Wuxian was beaten bloody and, inwardly, deeply alarmed.

Wen Ruohan's strength was indeed overwhelmingly terrifying!

Wei Wuxian had never faced Nie Mingjue directly, so he didn't know who would win or lose between them. But from what he observed, Nie Mingjue's cultivation ranked among the top three of all the people he had seen. Yet even so, before Wen Ruohan, he was utterly helpless! And even if it had been Wei Wuxian himself in this moment, he dared not say that he would suffer fewer blows under Wen Ruohan's hand than Nie Mingjue...

Wen Ruohan planted his foot on Nie Mingjue's chest. Wei Wuxian's vision went dark in waves, the stench of blood rushing up his throat.

Meng Yao's voice drew closer: 'Your subordinate is incompetent, forcing the Sect-leader to trouble himself.'

Wen Ruohan laughed: 'Useless.'

Meng Yao laughed too. Wen Ruohan said, 'So Wen Xu was killed by him?'

Meng Yao replied, 'Indeed. It was him. Sect-leader, do you wish to slay your enemy with your own hands now, or drag him to Earthfire Hall? Personally, I suggest Earthfire Hall would be better.'

'Earthfire Hall' was Wen Ruohan's pleasure ground, where he collected thousands of torture instruments, a place specially used for tormenting people. This meant Meng Yao refused to give Nie Mingjue a swift death, intending to drag him to Wen Ruohan's execution grounds and slowly torture him to death with his own devices.

Hearing these two chat and laugh as they discussed how to dispose of him, Nie Mingjue's fury surged like a flood, blood and qi roiling in his chest. Wen Ruohan said, 'What's the point of dragging a half-dead man?'

Meng Yao replied, 'That's not quite right. With Sect-leader Nie's robust constitution, after two or three days of rest he might be full of grandeur again.'

Wen Ruohan said, 'Do as you see fit.'

Meng Yao said, 'Yes.'

Yet, even as he said that 'Yes,' an extremely fine thread of cold light flickered across.

Wen Ruohan suddenly fell silent.

Drops of warm blood splattered onto Nie Mingjue's face. He seemed to sense something and struggled to lift his head to see clearly. But ultimately, gravely wounded and unable to hold on, his head sank heavily, and he closed his eyes.

After an unknown span of time, Wei Wuxian finally felt a glimmer of light before his eyes as Nie Mingjue slowly opened them.

As soon as he awoke, he found that he was being half-dragged, half-carried forward by Meng Yao, one of his own arms slung over Meng Yao's shoulder.

Meng Yao said, 'Sect-leader Nie?'

Nie Mingjue said, 'Wen Ruohan is dead?'

Meng Yao seemed to slip, his voice trembling: 'Should be... dead.'

He was still holding something in his hand.

Nie Mingjue said heavily, 'Give me my blade.'

Wei Wuxian couldn't see Meng Yao's expression, only hear the bitter smile in his voice: 'Sect-leader Nie, at a time like this, you'd better not be thinking of cutting me down with your blade...'

Nie Mingjue was silent a moment, gathered his strength, and snatched it away with a swift hand. Meng Yao was exceedingly sharp, but raw power defeated skill; he couldn't hold on, quickly leaping back, saying, 'Sect-leader Nie, you're still injured.'

With the long blade in hand, Nie Mingjue said coldly, 'You killed them.'

The cultivators captured alongside him.

Meng Yao said, 'Sect-leader Nie, you must understand, in that situation just now... I had no choice.'

Nie Mingjue detested such excuses above all. Fire rose in his heart, and he swung his blade, raging: 'What do you mean no choice? Whether to act or not was up to you — whether to kill or not was also up to you!'

Meng Yao dodged and said in defense, 'Was it truly up to me? Sect-leader Nie, if you and I had switched places...'

Nie Mingjue had long known what he was going to say and cut him off: 'No!'

Meng Yao, seemingly exhausted, dodged repeatedly, nearly stumbling, a hint of wretchedness showing. After gasping a few breaths, he suddenly burst out, shouting: 'Chifeng-zun!!! Do you understand at all? If I hadn't killed them, the one lying dead on the ground would have been you!!!'

This sentence was essentially saying, 'I am your savior; you cannot kill me, or else you lack righteousness.' Yet Jin Guangyao was Jin Guangyao indeed; the same meaning, phrased differently, carried a restrained grievance and dignified sorrow. Sure enough, Nie Mingjue's movements halted. The veins on his forehead bulged; he stood rigid for a moment, tightened his grip on the hilt, and shouted: 'Fine! I'll cut you down first, then take my own life!'

As soon as Meng Yao had cried out that shout, he immediately shrank back. Seeing Bixia swipe toward him, his soul nearly fled his body, and he fled. One slashing, one running; both were covered in blood, staggering and stumbling. Caught in this farcical scene, Wei Wuxian, while his hand hacked at the future Chief Cultivator, laughed himself half to death in his mind, thinking that if Nie Mingjue weren't so gravely wounded and drained of spiritual power, Meng Yao would have been cut down long ago. Amid the chaos, a startled voice suddenly rang out: 'Mingjue-xiong!'

A figure in clean white robes emerged from the woods. Meng Yao, seeing the newcomer as though seeing a deity, scrambled and fled behind him: 'Zewu-jun!!! Zewu-jun!!!'

Nie Mingjue, in the grip of fury, couldn't even bother to ask why Lan Xichen was here and shouted: 'Xichen, stand aside!'

Bixia bore down with ferocious momentum; Shuoyue was forced from its sheath. Lan Xichen half-blocked, half-supported him, saying, 'Mingjue-xiong, calm your anger! Why must you do this?'

Nie Mingjue said, 'Why don't you ask him what he did?!'

Lan Xichen looked back at Meng Yao, whose face was full of terror, stammering as if afraid to speak. Nie Mingjue said, 'When you fled from Langya, I wondered why I couldn't find you even after digging three chi into the earth! So you became a Wen dog's claw and tooth, aiding tyranny in Nightless City!'

Lan Xichen said, 'Mingjue-xiong.'

He rarely interrupted others' words. Nie Mingjue was slightly stunned; Lan Xichen continued, 'Do you know who, on several occasions, has been giving you the Qishan Wen Clan's troop formations?'

Nie Mingjue said, 'You.'

Lan Xichen said, 'I merely passed them along. Do you know the source of that intelligence all along?'

In this moment, the implication of his words could not be clearer. Nie Mingjue looked toward Meng Yao, who was hanging his head behind him, his brow twitching uncontrollably, clearly unable to believe it.

Lan Xichen said, 'There is no need to doubt. Today, I also came here to meet him because of his message. Otherwise, why would I appear here by coincidence?'

Nie Mingjue was speechless.

Lan Xichen continued, 'After that incident at Langya, A-Yao was filled with remorse, yet dared not let you come across him. He had no choice but to find a way to infiltrate the Qishan Wen Clan, get close to Wen Ruohan, and afterwards secretly send word to me. At first I didn't know the sender's identity; only by chance did I discern clues and recognize him.' He turned to Meng Yao and said softly, 'Did you not tell Mingjue-xiong these things?'

'...' Meng Yao clutched the wound on his arm and said with a bitter smile, 'Zewu-jun, as you can see, even if I had just said it, Sect-leader Nie would not have believed me.'

Nie Mingjue kept his mouth shut. Bixia and Shuoyue were still locked against each other. Meng Yao glanced at the intersecting blades, his gaze full of terror, but after a long pause, he still stepped out and knelt before Nie Mingjue.

Lan Xichen said, 'Meng Yao?'

Meng Yao said in a low voice, 'Sect-leader Nie, earlier in Yanyang Hall, though it was to deceive Wen Ruohan and prevent him from discovering anything amiss, I struck you and spoke insolently. Knowing full well that the late Old Sect Leader Nie was a wound in your heart, I deliberately prodded that scar... Although it was absolutely necessary, it was also deeply, deeply wrong.'

Nie Mingjue said, 'It is not me you should be kneeling to, but the cultivators you killed with your own hands.'

Meng Yao said, 'Wen Ruohan had a brutal temperament. Even the slightest disobedience on ordinary days would drive him into a frenzy. Since I had to pose as his trusted aide, how could I stand idly by when others insulted him? Therefore...'

Nie Mingjue said, 'Very well. It seems you have done plenty of such things in the past.'

Meng Yao sighed and said, 'I was in Qishan.'

Lan Xichen did not relent with his hand, and sighed, 'Mingjue-xiong, he was undercover in Qishan; sometimes doing certain things... was unavoidable. When he did them, in his heart he was also...'

Wei Wuxian shook his head inwardly: 'This Zewu-jun is still... too pure and kind.' Yet on second thought, he could be so guarded only because he already knew of Jin Guangyao's various suspicions. But the Meng Yao before Lan Xichen was an undercover agent enduring humiliation, trapped by circumstance, venturing alone into danger. With different perspectives, how could their feelings be compared?

After a long moment, Nie Mingjue abruptly raised his blade again. Lan Xichen said, 'Mingjue-xiong!'

Meng Yao closed his eyes, and Lan Xichen tightened his grip on Shuoyue, saying, 'Forgive me...'

Before his words finished, the blade's silver edge slashed fiercely down — and split a boulder beside them.

The crack of metal on stone made Meng Yao's shoulders twitch. He turned to look; that enormous rock had been cleaved in two from top to bottom.

In the end, that blade could not fall. Bixia returned to its sheath, and Nie Mingjue turned and walked away without a backward glance.

With this, Wen Ruohan was dead. Although the Qishan Wen Clan still had remnants, they no longer posed a threat; defeat was certain.

And the dead-man Meng Yao, who had hidden for years in Nightless City, became famous with a single battle.

Wei Wuxian had once wondered: after Meng Yao betrayed the Qinghe Nie Sect, Nie Mingjue's relationship with him was no longer what it used to be, so why did they later swear brotherhood? From what he observed, besides Lan Xichen's constant hope that the two could mend their relationship and his active proposal, the most important reason was probably still Nie Mingjue acknowledging the debt of life saved and the favor of intelligence conveyed. Thinking back, many of his past campaigns had relied on intelligence Meng Yao transmitted through Lan Xichen. He still saw Jin Guangyao as a rare talent and wished to guide him back onto the right path. And since Jin Guangyao was no longer his subordinate, only after swearing brotherhood would he have the standing and authority to supervise him, just as he supervised and disciplined his younger brother Nie Huaisang.

After the Sunshot Campaign ended, the Lanling Jin Sect held a flower banquet for several days, inviting countless cultivators and families to celebrate, a universal rejoicing.

At Koi Tower, people came and went. Before Nie Mingjue's lofty perspective, the crowd continuously parted, and those on both sides bowed their heads in greeting, calling out 'Chifeng-zun.' Wei Wuxian thought: 'These ceremonial honors are soaring to the heavens. These people are both afraid and respectful toward Nie Mingjue. Many fear me, but not many respect me.'

Jin Guangyao stood beside the Sumeru pedestal. After swearing brotherhood with Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen and being recognized by his clan, he now had a cinnabar dot of resolve on his brow, wore the Sparks Amidst Snow Robe with white base and gold trim, and a black cap. He was entirely renewed, exceedingly bright and handsome. His cleverness remained, but his bearing was composed, far beyond what it used to be.

Beside him, Wei Wuxian actually spotted a familiar figure.

Xue Yang.

At this time, Xue Yang was extremely young; his face still held childishness, but he was already very tall. He, too, wore the Sparks Amidst Snow Robe. Standing together with Jin Guangyao, they were like spring breezes brushing willows, a vision of youthful charm. They seemed to be discussing something amusing. Jin Guangyao smiled gently, made a gesture, and they exchanged glances. Xue Yang burst into laughter, casually scanning the cultivators moving about, his eyes full of contempt and indifference, as if these were all walking garbage. When he saw Nie Mingjue, he showed none of the others' fear; instead, he bared his canine teeth in this direction. Jin Guangyao noticed Nie Mingjue's displeased expression and quickly reined in his smile, whispering something to Xue Yang. Xue Yang waved his hand and sauntered off in the other direction.

Jin Guangyao walked over and said respectfully, 'Elder Brother.'

Nie Mingjue said, 'Who is that?'

After hesitating a moment, Jin Guangyao answered carefully, 'Xue Yang.'

Nie Mingjue frowned: 'Kuizhou Xue Yang?'

Jin Guangyao nodded. Xue Yang had been notorious from a young age, and Wei Wuxian could clearly feel Nie Mingjue's frown deepen. He said, 'What are you doing mixing with that kind of person?'

Jin Guangyao said, 'The Lanling Jin Sect has recruited him.'

Not daring to offer much defense, he made an excuse about receiving guests and hurriedly escaped to another side. Nie Mingjue shook his head and turned around. At this turn, Wei Wuxian's eyes suddenly brightened, feeling as though frost and snow had descended from heaven, moonlight filling the hall. Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji were walking up side by side.

The Twin Jades of Lan stood together, one with a xiao at his hip, the other carrying a qin; one warm and refined, the other cold and aloof. Yet both possessed the same striking beauty and elegant poise. Truly, one color, two styles of grace. No wonder passersby kept casting second glances, marveling without end.

At this time, Lan Wangji's features still held a hint of youthful softness, but he still wore that distant, aloof expression that kept others at arm's length. Wei Wuxian's gaze instantly stuck to his face, impossible to tear away. Regardless of whether he could hear him, Wei Wuxian cheerfully shouted on his own: 'Lan Zhan! I've missed you so much! Hahahahahaha!'

Suddenly, a voice said, 'Sect-leader Nie, Sect-leader Lan.'

Hearing this familiar voice, Wei Wuxian's heart jumped. Nie Mingjue turned to look again. Jiang Cheng, in purple robes, approached with his hand on his sword.

And the person standing beside Jiang Cheng was none other than Wei Wuxian himself.

He saw himself, dressed in black, hands clasped behind his back, a pitch-black flute with a bright red tassel tucked at his waist. No sword at his side. Standing side by side with Jiang Cheng, he nodded in this direction, his posture slightly arrogant, looking utterly inscrutable and condescending. Seeing the younger version of himself with that air, Wei Wuxian felt his teeth ache with cringe, thinking it was sheer pretension, and he wished he could rush over and beat him up thoroughly.

Lan Wangji also saw Wei Wuxian standing beside Jiang Cheng. His brows twitched faintly, but his pale eyes soon turned back, gazing straight ahead, still maintaining a very dignified appearance. Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue exchanged stiff nods, neither having much to say. After a perfunctory greeting, they parted. Wei Wuxian saw that black-clad version of himself glance left and right, catching sight of Lan Wangji over here, and seem about to speak. But Jiang Cheng had already walked over and stood next to him. The two lowered their heads, their faces full of seriousness, each saying something. Wei Wuxian burst out laughing and walked off side by side with Jiang Cheng toward the other side. The surrounding pedestrians automatically gave them a wide berth.

Wei Wuxian thought carefully: what exactly did they say? Originally he couldn't recall, but from Nie Mingjue's line of sight, he saw their mouth shapes and remembered. At that time, he had said: 'Jiang Cheng, Chifeng-zun is so much taller than you, haha.'

And Jiang Cheng had said: 'Piss off. You're asking for death.'

Nie Mingjue's gaze returned and he said, 'Why is Wei Ying not wearing a sword?'

Wearing a sword was like donning formal robes; at a grand gathering, it was an indispensable symbol of propriety, especially valued by those of noble lineage. Lan Wangji said mildly: 'He probably forgot.'

Nie Mingjue raised an eyebrow: 'He can forget something like that?'

Lan Wangji said: 'No surprise.'

Wei Wuxian thought: 'Well, well, talking behind my back — caught in the act.'

Lan Xichen said with a smile: 'That young master Wei once said he couldn't be bothered with all these tedious formalities. Forget not wearing a sword — even if he wore no clothes, what could others do to him? Ah, youth.'

Listening to his own reckless, arrogant words from another person's mouth—the taste was truly indescribable. Wei Wuxian felt a little humiliated, but there was nothing he could do. Just then, he heard Lan Wangji beside him say, low and quiet: 'Frivolous.'

He spoke very softly, as if only to himself. The two words landed on Wei Wuxian's ears, and his heart inexplicably skipped two beats.

Lan Xichen looked at him and said: 'Yi? Why are you still here?'

Lan Wangji, slightly confused, solemnly said: 'Elder Brother is here, naturally I am also here.'

Lan Xichen said: 'Why don't you go over and speak to him? They're about to walk away.'

Wei Wuxian found it very strange: 'Why is Zewu-jun saying this? Could it be that Lan Zhan has something to say to me right now?'

Suddenly, from the far end of the Sumeru throne, a clamor broke out. Wei Wuxian heard his own furious shout from that side: 'Jin Zixuan! Don't you forget what you've said and done—what is the meaning of this now?!'

Wei Wuxian remembered. So it was this time!

Over there, Jin Zixuan also angrily said: 'I'm asking Sect-leader Jiang, not you! And who I asked was Jiang-guniang—what does it have to do with you!'

Wei Wuxian said: 'Well said! What does my shijie have to do with you? Back then, whose eyes had grown on top of their head?'

Jin Zixuan said: 'Sect-leader Jiang—this is my family's flower banquet, and these are your people! Are you going to control them or not!'

Lan Xichen said: 'How is it that they're quarrelling again?'

Lan Wangji's gaze cast over there, but his steps were glued to the ground. After a long moment, as if finally making up his mind, he started to walk over, but Jiang Cheng's voice came: 'Wei Wuxian, shut your mouth. Young Master Jin, my apologies. My sister is very well, thank you for your concern. We can speak of this another time.'

Wei Wuxian sneered: 'Another time? There won't be another time! Whether she's well or not, he doesn't need to concern himself! Who does he think he is?'

With that he turned and walked away. Jiang Cheng barked: 'Come back! Where are you going?'

Wei Wuxian waved his hand: 'Anywhere is fine! Just so long as I don't have to see his face. I didn't want to come in the first place; you handle this yourself.'

Jiang Cheng was left behind him, his face gradually clouding over. Jin Guangyao had been bustling around the palace, smiling at everyone, seeing to every task; when he saw trouble over here, he popped up again, saying: 'Young Master Wei, stay a step!'

Wei Wuxian, hands clasped behind his back, walked off rapidly. His face was sullen, and no one paid him any mind. Lan Wangji took one step toward him, but before he could open his mouth to speak, the two brushed past each other.

Jin Guangyao couldn't catch up to Wei Wuxian, stamped his foot: 'Ai, he's gone. Sect-leader Jiang, this... what can be done?'

Jiang Cheng gathered the clouds from his face, said: 'Ignore him. He's run wild at home and doesn't know the rules.' Then he began conversing with Jin Zixuan.

Watching these two, Wei Wuxian sighed deeply in his heart. Fortunately, Nie Mingjue had no interest in what was going on over there, and soon he shifted his gaze, so they could no longer see them.

The Qinghe Nie clan's immortal residence, Unclean Realm.

Nie Mingjue was sitting on a mat. Across from Lan Xichen lay a yaoqin. He plucked the strings and pressed the frets, and when the piece was done, Jin Guangyao smiled and said: 'There, having heard Er-ge's qin, I'll go back and smash my own.'

Lan Xichen said: 'San-di's qin, outside of Gusu, is also very fine. Was it your mother who taught you?'

Jin Guangyao said: 'No. I learned by watching on my own. She never taught me these things; she only taught me to read and write, and bought some very expensive sword manuals and mental cultivation methods for me to practice.'

Lan Xichen, astonished: 'Sword manuals and mental cultivation methods?'

Jin Guangyao said: 'Er-ge, you've never seen them? The little booklets sold among the common folk, with crude drawings of people in strange poses and a bunch of deliberately obscure writing.' Lan Xichen smiled and shook his head; Jin Guangyao also shook his head: 'All of it was a swindle, especially meant to cheat women like my mother and ignorant children. Practicing them won't harm you, but it won't bring you the slightest benefit.'

He sighed: 'But how would my mother understand that? Whenever she saw them, no matter how expensive, she'd buy them, saying that one day when I go back to see my father, I must go before him with a full set of skills, not lagging behind others. All the money was spent on that.'

Lan Xichen plucked the strings twice, said: 'To learn to this level only by watching—you have great talent. With guidance from a renowned master, you would advance a thousand li in a day.'

Jin Guangyao smiled: 'The renowned master is right before my eyes, I dare not trouble you.'

Lan Xichen said: 'What is there to fear? Please, young master, sit.'

Jin Guangyao sat upright opposite him, assuming a posture of earnest listening: 'What does Teacher Lan wish to teach?'

Lan Xichen said: 'What about the Clarity Melody?'

Jin Guangyao's eyes lit up, but before he could speak, Nie Mingjue looked up and said: 'Er-di, Clarity Melody is one of your Gusu Lan clan's secret arts. Do not let it leak out.'

Lan Xichen, unconcerned, smiled: 'Clarity Melody differs from Barrier-Breaking Tune; its effect is in clearing the heart and settling the spirit. Such a healing art—how can one be stingy and keep it private? Besides, teaching San-di, how could it be considered leaking it out?'

Since Lan Xichen knew what he was doing, Nie Mingjue didn't push further.

One day, Nie Mingjue returned to Unclean Realm. As soon as he entered the main hall, he saw Nie Huaisang with more than ten gilded folding fans spread out in a row before him, stroking each one with loving reluctance, muttering to himself as he compared the inscriptions. Veins immediately bulged on Nie Mingjue's forehead, and he barked: 'Nie Huaisang!'

Nie Huaisang instantly dropped to his knees.

Truly, he was so frightened that he knelt; only after kneeling did he shakily scramble up, saying: 'D-d-d-da-ge.'

Nie Mingjue said: 'Where is your sabre?'

Nie Huaisang mumbled: 'In... in my room. No, at the Training Grounds. No, I... let me think...'

Wei Wuxian could feel that Nie Mingjue was already of half a mind to hack him to death with one stroke: 'You carry a dozen fans on you and don't even know where your personal sabre is?!'

Nie Huaisang hurriedly said: 'I'll go find it right away!'

Nie Mingjue said: 'Don't bother! Even if you find it, you won't be able to train anything. Burn all these things!'

Nie Huaisang, horrified, frantically swept the fans into his arms, while doing so: 'No, Da-ge! These are all gifts from other people!'

Nie Mingjue slammed a palm down, splitting a table, and roared: 'Whoever gave them, tell them to get their ass out here!'

Someone said: 'I gave them.'

Jin Guangyao stepped in from outside the main hall. Nie Huaisang saw him as if seeing a savior, overjoyed: 'San-ge, you're here!'

Actually, it wasn't that Jin Guangyao could keep Nie Mingjue from getting angry; rather, when Jin Guangyao was there, Nie Mingjue would generally direct all his anger at him alone, too busy to scold anyone else. So calling Jin Guangyao Nie Huaisang's savior was not an exaggeration at all. Nie Huaisang was exultant, crying 'San-ge, hello!' repeatedly while hastily scooping the fans on the table into his arms. Seeing his younger brother like this, Nie Mingjue's anger surpassed its limit, and he actually found it laughable. He said to Jin Guangyao: 'Stop giving him those messy things!'

Nie Huaisang, flustered, dropped two fans on the ground. Jin Guangyao picked them up for him and placed them in his arms, saying: 'Huaisang has a taste for elegance, is devoted to painting and calligraphy, and has none of those wicked habits—how can you call it messy?'

Nie Huaisang nodded repeatedly: 'Yes, yes, San-ge is right!'

Nie Mingjue said: 'A sect leader has no use for those things.'

Nie Huaisang said: 'I'm not going to be sect leader—Da-ge, you're the one doing it; I won't do it!' A sideways glare from his elder brother silenced him instantly. Nie Mingjue turned to Jin Guangyao: 'What are you doing here?'

Jin Guangyao said: 'Er-ge said he gave you a qin.'

That was the qin Lan Xichen had brought earlier to play Clarity Melody for Nie Mingjue, to help calm his mind. Jin Guangyao continued: 'Lately, Gusu Lan clan's rebuilding of Cloud Recesses is at a critical stage, and Da-ge won't let him come, so Er-ge taught me Clarity Melody. I thought, even if I cannot compare to Er-ge's consummate skill, I might still offer you some small aid, to soothe and settle.'

Nie Mingjue said: 'Just do your own job well.'

Nie Huaisang, however, was greatly intrigued: 'San-ge, what piece? Can I listen? I tell you, that out-of-print edition you found for me last time...'

Nie Mingjue bellowed: 'Get the hell back to your room!'

Nie Huaisang immediately tucked his tail and fled, though he certainly didn't go back to his room but to the guest hall to fetch the gifts Jin Guangyao had brought. With his interruptions, the anger in Nie Mingjue's heart had already dissipated considerably. Looking back at Jin Guangyao, whose face held a trace of exhaustion, his Sparks Amidst Snow Robe slightly travel-worn, evidently having come from Koi Tower. After a pause, Nie Mingjue said: 'Sit.'

Jin Guangyao inclined his head slightly and sat down as requested, saying: 'Da-ge cares for Huaisang that much. Couldn't you offer your admonishments a little more gently? Why do you have to be this way?'

Nie Mingjue said: 'Even with a sabre to his throat, he's still like this. It seems beating him to death won't make him amount to anything.'

Jin Guangyao said: 'It's not that Huaisang won't amount to anything; his ambition simply lies elsewhere.'

Nie Mingjue said: 'You've certainly figured out exactly where his ambitions lie.'

Jin Guangyao gave a faint smile: 'Naturally. Is that not precisely what I am best at? The only one whose mind I've never been able to read is Da-ge.'

Knowing others' likes and dislikes, applying the right remedy, makes everything easier—twice the result with half the effort. So Jin Guangyao was truly an expert at divining people's tastes and hobbies. Only with Nie Mingjue could Jin Guangyao probe and find nothing of use. Wei Wuxian had witnessed this back when Meng Yao served under Nie Mingjue: he touched neither women, drink, nor wealth; paintings, calligraphy, antiques—to him they were no more than ink, water, mud, and clay; the finest vintage or tea and the dregs from a roadside stall tasted exactly the same to him. Meng Yao wracked his brains but discovered no special interest beyond daily sabre practice and killing Wen dogs—a fortress of iron and brass, impervious to blade and spear. Now, hearing the self-deprecation in his tone, Nie Mingjue's aversion lessened, and he said: 'Stop encouraging that disposition of his.'

Jin Guangyao smiled slightly and asked again: 'Da-ge, Er-ge's qin?'

Nie Mingjue pointed him in its direction.

Thereafter, every few days, Jin Guangyao would travel from Lanling to Qinghe, play Clarity Melody to help Nie Mingjue dispel delusion and purify his heart, sparing no effort, without a single word of complaint. Clarity Melody was indeed wondrously effective; Wei Wuxian could distinctly feel the fierce resentment in Nie Mingjue's chest being suppressed. And during those zither sessions, the two's conversation and manner even regained something of the peaceful harmony from before the rift. He began to think that perhaps the claim of being tied up with rebuilding Cloud Recesses was merely an excuse. Perhaps Lan Xichen simply wanted to give Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao an opportunity to ease their relationship.

Yet, just as he thought this, in the very next moment, a surge of even wilder fury rose up.

Nie Mingjue threw off two disciples who dared not block him directly and strode into Blooming Garden. Inside the study, Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were discussing something with grave expressions, several sheets of paper spread across the desk before them, covered in various notations. Seeing him burst in, Lan Xichen started slightly: 'Da-ge?'

Nie Mingjue said: 'You stay.' Then in a cold voice to Jin Guangyao: 'You. Come out.'

Jin Guangyao glanced at him, then at Lan Xichen, and smiled: 'Er-ge, if you could help me sort out this line a bit more, I'll go speak with Da-ge about a private matter, and then come back for your instruction.'

Lan Xichen's face showed concern; Jin Guangyao stopped him with a look and followed Nie Mingjue out of Blooming Garden. The two had only just reached a secluded edge of Koi Tower when Nie Mingjue slashed a palm strike at him.

Several nearby disciples cried out in alarm, but Jin Guangyao nimbly and deftly sidestepped, signaling them not to interfere, and said to Nie Mingjue: 'Da-ge, why go to such lengths? Can we not speak peaceably?'

Nie Mingjue said: 'Where is Xue Yang?'

Jin Guangyao said: 'He has already been confined to the dungeon, to be held for the rest of his life...'

Nie Mingjue said: 'What did you say to me back then, in front of me?'

Jin Guangyao fell silent. Nie Mingjue said: 'I wanted blood debts paid in blood, and you give him lifelong imprisonment?'

Jin Guangyao, with utmost caution, said: 'As long as he is punished and unable to repeat his crimes, lifelong imprisonment and blood for blood are not so...'

Nie Mingjue said: 'You recommended such a fine guest retainer, and fine deeds he has done! Even now you dare protect him!'

Jin Guangyao defended himself: 'I am not protecting him. I too was shocked by the Liyang Chang Sect affair—how could I have expected Xue Yang would slaughter over fifty members of a family? But my father insisted on keeping this man...'

Nie Mingjue said: 'Shocked? Who recruited him? Who recommended him? Who placed him in a position of trust? Stop using your father as a shield—Xue Yang's deeds, would you not know?!'

Jin Guangyao sighed: 'Da-ge, it truly was my father's order. I could not refuse. Now you want me to deal with Xue Yang, how am I to explain it to him?'

Nie Mingjue said: 'No more useless words. Bring Xue Yang's head and present it.'

Jin Guangyao was about to speak again, but Nie Mingjue had already lost patience: 'Meng Yao, stop putting on airs before me. None of your tricks work on me anymore!'

In an instant, a flush of mortification appeared on Jin Guangyao's face, like a person with a hidden ailment whose failing has been exposed before all eyes, nowhere to hide, no face left to show.

He said: 'My tricks? What tricks? Da-ge, you always curse me for being crafty and underhanded. You say you walk upright and stand straight, fearing neither heaven nor earth, a true man, needing no schemes or plots. Fine. You come from high birth and high cultivation. But what of me? Am I like you? First, I haven't your profound cultivation or stable foundation; who in all my years has ever taught me? Second, I have no great family background—do you think my position in Lanling Jin Sect is secure? Do you think that with Jin Zixuan dead I've soared to the top? Jin Guangshan would sooner bring back another bastard son than let me inherit! You tell me to fear neither heaven nor earth? I fear heaven, I fear earth, and I fear people! Easy to talk when you've never suffered, the well-fed know nothing of the starving.'

Nie Mingjue said coldly: 'In the end, what you mean is simply that you don't wish to kill Xue Yang, and you don't wish to see your position in Lanling Jin Sect shaken.'

Jin Guangyao said: 'Of course I don't wish it!'

He raised his head, a strange flame flickering in his eyes: 'But Da-ge, there's something I've always wanted to ask you: the lives under your command are no fewer than under mine—so why is it that when I killed a few cultivators under duress back then, you must keep dragging up old debts, all the way to this day?'

Nie Mingjue, too furious to do anything but laugh, said: 'Fine! I'll answer you. Countless souls have fallen to my blade, but I have never killed for selfish desire, and even more so, never killed to climb higher!'

Jin Guangyao said: 'Da-ge, I understand your meaning now. Are you saying that all those you have killed deserved their deaths?'

From some unknown source of courage, he laughed twice and stepped a few paces closer to Nie Mingjue, his voice rising, with a pressing edge: 'Then dare I ask: how do you decide who deserves to die? Is your standard necessarily correct? If I kill one to save a hundred, is that a deed whose merit outweighs the sin, or is it still a deserved death? To achieve great things, some sacrifices are always necessary.'

Nie Mingjue said: 'Then why not sacrifice yourself? Are you nobler than them? Are you different from them?'

Jin Guangyao stared at him fixedly for a long while, and finally, as if he had at last made up his mind—or as if he had given something up—said, calmly: 'Yes.'

He lifted his chin, his expression three parts pride, three parts frankness, and three parts a faint, lurking madness: 'I am different from them!'

Nie Mingjue was provoked to rage by this expression and this declaration.

He kicked out with all his might, and Jin Guangyao, utterly unprepared and not even dodging, took the kick square to the chest and went tumbling from Koi Tower, rolling down in a clatter.

Nie Mingjue looked down and shouted: 'Son of a whore, no wonder!'

Jin Guangyao rolled down more than fifty steps before coming to a stop. He didn't even stay sprawled on the ground for long before pushing himself up. He raised a hand to dismiss the several household attendants and disciples who had hurried over, dusted off his Sparks Amidst Snow Robe, and slowly lifted his head to meet Nie Mingjue's gaze. His eyes were very calm, even somewhat indifferent. Nie Mingjue drew his sabre from its sheath just as Lan Xichen, who had waited without results and could not put his mind at ease, came out of the inner hall to see what was happening. At one glimpse of the scene, he immediately drew Shuoyue, saying: 'What is it with you two now?'

Jin Guangyao said: 'It's nothing. Many thanks for Da-ge's teaching.'

Nie Mingjue said: 'Don't block me!'

Lan Xichen said: 'Da-ge, put your blade away first—your heart and mind are disordered!'

Nie Mingjue said: 'I am not disordered. I know clearly what I am doing. He is beyond cure. If this continues, he will surely become a scourge to the world. Kill him sooner, and all may rest sooner!'

Lan Xichen was taken aback: 'Da-ge, what are you saying? All these days he has been rushing back and forth between Qinghe and Lanling—can that only earn from you the words “beyond cure”?'

With someone like Nie Mingjue, bringing up kindness or grievances was always an effective tactic, and indeed his movement faltered for a moment. He glanced over at Jin Guangyao. Blood was streaming from Jin Guangyao's forehead, but aside from the fresh injuries from the fall, there were also older wounds wrapped in bandages, which had only been hidden by the soft gauze cap he wore. Now, old and new wounds burst open together, and Jin Guangyao unwrapped the bandages, wiped the blood away so as not to stain his clothes, then threw them to the ground. He stood there, silent, as if lost in thought. Lan Xichen turned back and said: 'San-di, go back. Let me speak with Da-ge.'

Jin Guangyao bowed toward them, turned, and left. Sensing the force in Nie Mingjue's hand ease, Lan Xichen sheathed his sword as well, patted his shoulder, and led him aside.

Lan Xichen said as they walked: 'Da-ge, I'm afraid you don't know—San-di's situation right now is truly very bad.'

Nie Mingjue said, voice cold: 'Coming from his mouth, it's as if he is perpetually living in deep water and scorching fire.'

Though he said this, his blade was already slowly sliding back into its sheath. Lan Xichen said: 'Who could say otherwise? Did he talk back to you just now? You know he's never done that before.'

Indeed he hadn't, indeed it was out of character. Jin Guangyao wasn't someone who couldn't hold his temper; he understood well how to deal with Nie Mingjue—he had to yield. That outburst just now, like pent-up fury vented in defiance, was truly unlike him.

Lan Xichen said: 'His mother has never favored him; since Zixuan-xiong passed away, she beats and scolds him at the slightest provocation. His father, lately, won't listen to him either, and has rejected all the proposals he's submitted.'

Wei Wuxian recalled the stack of drawings on the table and understood: 'Watchtowers.'

In the end, Lan Xichen said: 'Don't press him too hard for now. I believe he knows what he needs to do. Just give him a little more time.'

Nie Mingjue said: 'I hope so.'

Wei Wuxian had thought that after being kicked by Nie Mingjue, Jin Guangyao would keep quiet for a while. Who knew, after a few days, he still came to Unclean Realm as usual.

At the Training Grounds, Nie Mingjue personally supervised and instructed Nie Huaisang in sabre practice, paying Jin Guangyao no mind. Jin Guangyao just stood respectfully at the edge of the training ground waiting. Nie Huaisang, utterly disinterested and under a harsh sun, practiced in the most perfunctory manner, calling it quits after a few moves, and was about to run happily over to Jin Guangyao to see what gift he'd brought this time. In the past, Nie Mingjue would have at most frowned at this, but today he was furious: 'Nie Huaisang, do you want me to split your head with this sabre?! Get back here!'

If Nie Huaisang could sense, like Wei Wuxian, just how high the flames of rage were blazing in Nie Mingjue's heart at this moment, he would not have been so cheeky. He said: 'Da-ge, time's up, we should rest!'

Nie Mingjue said: 'You rested just an incense-stick ago. Keep going, and don't stop until you've mastered it.'

Nie Huaisang, still floating along, said: 'Anyway, I'll never learn it. No more practice today!'

He'd often said this before. Who knew that today, Nie Mingjue's reaction would be completely different. He roared: 'Even if I were teaching a pig, I'd have gotten it by now—how come I can't teach you?!'

No one expected the sudden eruption. Nie Huaisang was so startled he froze like a wooden chicken, shrinking toward Jin Guangyao. Seeing the two huddled together, the fire in Nie Mingjue's heart blazed even hotter: 'A whole year and you haven't learned a single sabre set. You stand on the training ground for one incense-stick and cry bitter and tired. I don't ask you to outshine others, but you can't even protect yourself! How did Qinghe Nie Sect produce a waste like you! Some people need to be tied up and given a sound beating every day. Bring everything from his room out here!'

The last sentence was directed at the disciples standing at the edge of the training ground. When they saw that people had gone to do it, Nie Huaisang became nervous. In a short while, that line of disciples actually brought out the paintings, calligraphy, porcelain, and folding fans from his room. Nie Mingjue had always threatened to burn his things but had never actually done it; this time he meant it. Nie Huaisang panicked, threw himself forward: 'Da-ge! You can't burn them!'

Seeing things turning bad, Jin Guangyao also said: 'Da-ge, don't act in haste.' But Nie Mingjue had already swept his sabre out, and the exquisite objects piled at the center of the training ground were swallowed in a roaring blaze that shot to the sky. Nie Huaisang let out a miserable cry and rushed into the fire to save them. Jin Guangyao hastily dragged him back: 'Huaisang, careful!'

Nie Mingjue struck out a palm from his left hand, and the two white porcelain pieces Nie Huaisang had snatched from the flames shattered in his grip, while the scrolls and paintings had already been reduced to ash in an instant. Nie Huaisang could only stare as his beloved treasures, collected with painstaking effort over so many years, turned to ashes before his eyes, standing frozen. Jin Guangyao grabbed his hand to examine it: 'Any burns?' Then, turning to several disciples: 'Please prepare some medicine first.'

Several disciples assented and withdrew. Nie Huaisang stood rooted to the spot, trembling all over, looking toward Nie Mingjue, red veins surfacing in his eyes. Jin Guangyao, noticing his expression was off, put an arm around his shoulders and said quietly: 'Huaisang, what's wrong? Don't look anymore. Go inside and rest for now.'

Nie Huaisang's eyes were rimmed red, and he said nothing. Jin Guangyao added: 'It doesn't matter that the things are gone. San-ge will find more for you later...'

Nie Mingjue said coldly: 'The next time he moves something in, I'll burn it again.'

A flash of fury and weariness crossed Nie Huaisang's face. He threw his sabre to the ground with a clang and shouted: 'Then burn it!!!'

Jin Guangyao hurriedly said: 'Huaisang! Your brother is in a rage right now, don't...'

Nie Huaisang roared at Nie Mingjue: 'Sabre, sabre, sabre! Damn it, who wants to practice that worthless thing?! I'm happy being a waste, so what?! Whoever wants to be sect leader can do it! I can't, just can't, and I don't like it—so I don't! What's the use of forcing me?!'