Edict of Peace 4
Chapter 4: Murong Qiushui
The burly man finished speaking, waved his hand, and instantly vanished right before Li Guanyi’s eyes.
Li Guanyi looked around, unable to detect any trace. He could only nod and loudly say, “Then I’ll come at midnight.”
Only an empty echo remained, confirming that even if the burly man was still there, he wouldn’t show himself.
After circling outside twice, Li Guanyi returned home.
Their home in Guanyi City was a small courtyard with some age. Li Guanyi slowed his pace, using pre-chopped firewood to start a fire and prepare a meal. Cooking smoke rose, and the aroma of rice gradually filled the air. After cooking the rice, he stir-fried two simple vegetable dishes. It was the day of the monthly meat allowance, so he also stewed an old hen and steamed egg custard for himself and his aunt.
Before Li Guanyi needed to call out, the wooden door creaked open, and a woman with a pale face but a lively and spirited expression entered.
Li Guanyi’s aunt.
For eight of the past ten years, she had cared for Li Guanyi.
Two years ago, her injuries and illnesses flared up, causing her to fall ill. Ten-year-old Li Guanyi, relying on the mathematical foundation he retained from his past life, earned some money by doing calculations for others. Every day after work, he returned home to cook. This was all thanks to his aunt’s care for the previous eight years.
People are kind-hearted. Those eight years of hard work were repaid with the careful care of the last two years.
Li Guanyi still remembered the first time his poison flared up. The pain was excruciating. The pain was so intense it was like having an epileptic seizure, requiring careful attention to avoid biting his tongue during the fits. Children’s senses are more acute. At the time, he was only three or four years old. He could feel the fine hairs on flower petals, and smell the fragrance of spring flowers in the breeze. So the pain made him pass out.
It felt like falling into a bottomless abyss, like a dream where you miss your footing and keep falling.
Vaguely, he felt someone holding his hand, a warm liquid flowing into his mouth, like a scalding river of fire, slowly suppressing the icy pain, and then Li Guanyi fell into a deep sleep.
When he woke up, the wind rustled through the treetops, and the North Star hung high in the clear blue sky, cold and austere. He was resting on his aunt’s lap, and lifting his head, he saw her warm gaze, saw the teeth marks bleeding on her wrist, and felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.
At that time, his aunt had been riding a horse with him when she discovered his illness. He had fallen from the horse onto the grass. She was heartbroken and, unwilling to use a cloth, she used her own wrist to stop Li Guanyi’s mouth. Li Guanyi, in his agony, had bitten down with all his might, creating a large wound, though thankfully it didn’t injure an artery. The warmth amidst the excruciating pain was his aunt’s blood.
He looked up at that time, and saw the starry sky behind the beautiful woman. She smiled slightly and asked if he felt better? Starlight and moonlight shone on her face through the treetops, the light and shadows swaying, her wrist still wounded, yet she was still smiling, touching the child’s forehead, singing a lullaby from the Eastern Continent.
That night, Li Guanyi slept soundly.
Those were memories of the past. Now, twelve-year-old Li Guanyi served the pale woman a bowl of soup, carefully placing it down, and handing her a pair of chopsticks.
The woman with delicate eyebrows smiled, “The food made by Li Nu is still the best. It’s better than my aunt’s cooking skills.”
Li Guanyi raised an eyebrow.
Li Nu was Li Guanyi’s childhood name. Many children from wealthy families had childhood names ending in “nu,” (奴) which wasn’t meant as an insult. Wang Xienzhi’s childhood name was Guan Nu (官奴), and the former Southern Song Wu Emperor Liu Yu’s childhood name was Ji Nu (寄奴). But “Li Nu” was even more intimate. Li Nu means kitten, specifically a calico cat. Calling him that was like an elder calling a young child “kitty.” Li Guanyi once solemnly stated that he was no longer a child and shouldn’t be called that, but his aunt teased him by calling him “Li Nu er” in an affectionate tone for three days straight.
He knew his aunt wasn’t as gentle as she appeared.
After years of living together, Li Guanyi had learned how to deal with his aunt. He simply lowered his head, chopsticks moving swiftly, silently eating his meal, making the woman feel quite bored. Fortunately, Li Guanyi’s cooking was indeed good.
Although not as good as those elaborate dishes made by professional chefs.
But the firewood stove was strong, and the food had a nice aroma. The hen that had been pecking at grain that morning, the vegetables from the village outside the city that were still glistening with morning dew, the stir-fried dishes were undeniably delicious; they had a substantial feel. After eating their fill, Li Guanyi cleaned up.
His aunt’s health was deteriorating, and recently, Li Guanyi had stopped her from doing any chores.
After finishing these tasks, Li Guanyi, as usual, took a zither from the narrow walls of the small wooden house and, under the woman’s guidance, began to play. The music was melodious, sometimes clear and exciting, showing considerable skill.
When his aunt discovered Li Guanyi’s precocious maturity, she began to teach him to play the zither.
Zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting.
Even during the years they moved from place to place, she hadn’t interrupted his training.
She said she didn’t know martial arts, but she could play these well. Li Guanyi had learned to a high level of proficiency, meaning he could later support himself through his music. Failing that, my Li Nu is handsome and skilled in the arts – he could even become a kept man with dignity.
Li Guanyi emphasized that it was for both of them, and his aunt just smiled, then reached out and ruffled his hair.
The zither had been with his aunt all along. The body of the instrument was straight, its sound clear, but the tail was charred black, as if it had been rescued from a fire.
As he played, his aunt held a scroll, quietly sitting in a chair, her eyes closed, her wide sleeves hanging down, revealing a slender, white wrist. Her whole body seemed shrouded in her robe, appearing exceptionally thin. Suddenly, hearing a wrong note, she lazily opened her eyes, tapping the scroll lightly on the young man’s head, saying:
“You played wrong, Li Nu er.”
“What, are you troubled?”
Li Guanyi’s heart was indeed slightly agitated because the cloud patterns had reappeared, because the tripod was about to be filled, and there was a possibility of curing his poison. A moment’s distraction was enough for his aunt to notice. He couldn’t tell her about his poison or his risky actions. As he hesitated, his aunt smiled.
She smiled, her amber eyes looking at the young man. The scroll in her hand tapped Li Guanyi’s clothes, then slid down to tap his pants, saying: “You hate doing laundry the most, and usually walk far away from muddy ground, afraid of getting dirty.”
“Someone caused trouble at the pharmacy?”
His aunt leaned back in her chair, one hand propping up her chin:
“Hui Chun Tang (Hall of Spring Return) has some connections with the government office, and they also employ three martial artists who’ve reached the peak of body refinement.”
“There are very few who would dare make trouble at Hui Chun Tang. The only thing that could make you distracted, I guess, is seeing those people—our enemies?”
Li Guanyi opened his mouth, helplessly sighing. This woman had kept him safe and hidden for ten years, her mind remarkably sharp. His current cautious nature was entirely learned from his aunt over these ten years. He said:
“I knew I couldn’t hide it from you.”
Then he told her everything, only concealing the Bronze Tripod. The woman pondered, softly saying:
“The Red Dragon Law Physique… practicing martial arts at night. If it’s him, it’s acceptable.”
“As for those Cloud Pattern Riders…”
“We’ve been here for two years, and we’ll leave again in a few months. It’s better to avoid trouble. From now on, Guanyi, you should avoid them.”
“If you’re really unlucky and run into them, don’t get angry. Just endure it. It’s alright.”
“The old saying goes, be lenient when you can, take a step back and be at ease, especially since you’re young. Don’t fight with others outside…”
The woman’s voice was soft, and her words of advice reminded Li Guanyi of his mother from his past life. Every time he went on a long journey, his mother would always advise him to avoid arguments; it’s fine to step aside. The young man’s expression softened and dimmed slightly.
Suddenly, something was placed in his left hand – a silver coin.
Then, a chill ran through him. Lifting his head, he saw his aunt holding a sheathed short sword. The scabbard was simple and ancient. Li Guanyi was slightly startled, his aunt already drawing the sword. The blade, about the length of a forearm, emitted a faint, clear light.
His aunt smiled slightly. With a single swift movement, the short sword fell, silently severing a corner of the wooden table. Then, with a slanted cut, an old iron pot was sliced into two pieces and fell to the ground, equally silently.
The short sword was covered with cloud patterns from the forging process, and there were two characters on each side.
He recognized these characters from his aunt’s teaching.
The front side read “Murong,” and the back side, two characters, read “Qiushui”.
It was the sword’s name.
It was also his aunt’s name.
This name always reminded Li Guanyi of the renowned Murong family. The Murong family was in the eighteenth prefecture of Jiangnan, a land Chen Kingdom had lost twelve years ago, and the direction they had been slowly heading towards in hiding.
Murong Qiushui placed the short sword in the young man’s right hand and said softly:
“A man should be shrewd. If money can solve the problem, use money. Apologize. It’s not shameful.”
“But a man shouldn’t be without aggression. If they persist, use the sword.”
Li Guanyi subconsciously said: “Aunt, didn’t you say the old saying, ‘endure it and be at ease,’ ‘avoid it and have a clear path,’ ‘avoid trouble’? ”
He saw his beautiful aunt smile slightly, her finger tapping his forehead.
“My foolish Li Nu er, but there’s another old saying,” she said, her voice pausing, her eyebrows raised, her face suddenly full of spirit:
“It’s called ‘go to hell’!”
…
Midnight.
Yu Qianfeng sat in the Mountain God Temple, gnawing on a chicken leg bone, meditating.
He kept his promise, waiting for the child here, having prepared a top-tier military martial art. As soon as the child arrived, he would teach him the skill.
But would the child come?
Suddenly, his ears twitched.
Yu Qianfeng’s eyes snapped open.
Someone was coming.
An enemy!
Someone outside whispered a shout:
“Release arrows!!!”
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