The building is deserted - Part Two
Chen Changji's letter:
It is as if we are meeting in person. This letter is for your reference.
I was preparing to leave Wuling City, and in the end, I didn't get to see you. It's a great pity.
Before I left, I went to Changfeng Pavilion. Ayu wasn't there, and neither were you; it felt much quieter. I played a game of chess with the old man, and then I left.
I'm going to a rather remote place, so I probably won't be able to write to you for a while. When I return, I'd like to see you. If you have a suitable place, please send your letter to Changfeng Pavilion in Wuling City; I'll come there as soon as I see it.
By the way, in your last letter you mentioned that Miss Han was worried about Boyu's situation and asked me to keep a close eye on him. The war isn't progressing as smoothly as I had initially imagined. The rebel army and the imperial army are currently locked in a stalemate across the river. Boyu's path to becoming a general may be delayed, but he is certainly safe for now. You can reassure Miss Han.
I have arranged for Xia Zhi to regularly compile reports on the subsequent battle situation and send them to the Liuli Palace. Although the battle has reached a stalemate for the time being, in my view, the court's defeat is inevitable. We can simply wait for good news.
Do you still remember my storybook? The last time we listened to it together was at Xihelou in Wenqu City. So many days have passed, and the storybook is nearing its end. I've been writing for so long, using up a lot of ink and paper, but my proudest work is still the one I listened to with you, "The Thunder Sword God's Wrath Touches the Peace Temple."
I'm planning to write a new notebook, and I'm wondering if you have any ideas or anything that might interest you. I haven't officially started writing yet, so if you have any thoughts, please let me know in a letter.
Send the letter to Wuling; I probably won't be returning to Wenqu City for a while.
treasure.
*
Pei Jiangxi took the letter from Han Yizhi, quickly glanced at it, then folded it neatly and placed it in the cloth pocket on the left side of the saddle. Lately, it had become a habit for Pei Jiangxi to have Han Yizhi read every letter from Chen Changji before she read it herself.
"You've finished reading that?" Han Yizhi asked.
“Yes,” Pei Jiangxi replied matter-of-factly, “It’s only a few hundred words, how much more can you read? I’m not like you, trying to find Boyu between the words.”
"Don't give me any random advice." Han Yizhi blushed and quickly changed the subject: "I think this Chen Changji seems to be interested in you."
Pei Jiangxi thought for a moment and said, "We are not on the same path."
Han Yizhi looked at Pei Jiangxi for a while and said, "That's true. He's a scholar, and it's not safe for him to get involved in our affairs."
The two chatted casually.
Not far ahead, an old woman was leading a little girl towards them. Her strange gait immediately caught Han Yizhi's attention.
Just as Han Yizhi was about to speak to Pei Jiangxi, she saw the old woman fall face-first to the ground with a thud. The little girl, at a loss, knelt beside the old woman and began to cry. Han Yizhi quickly stepped forward, dismounted, and turned the old woman over, asking with concern, "Grandma, are you alright? Are you alright?"
The old woman's lips were chapped, and her clothes were damp. Han Yizhi frowned and asked the sobbing little girl beside her, "Little girls, what's wrong with you?"
"My mother-in-law gave me all the food," the girl replied haltingly.
Han Yizhi took the water bottle from Pei Jiangxi and moistened the old woman's lips, then fed her some dry food. It took a while for the old woman to recover.
"Thank you, young lady." The old woman's eyes, surrounded by wrinkles, welled up with tears.
"What happened, old man?" Pei Jiangxi asked as she fed the little girl.
“The village was flooded,” the old woman said weakly. “We barely escaped with our lives and wanted to take her to find her parents. But I couldn’t hold on any longer.”
“We have extra food and water, you can take them with you,” Han Yizhi said immediately. “Your clothes are wet too. If you don’t mind, take mine and change into them. The child is still young, you can’t get sick first.”
The old woman held Han Yizhi's hand, tears streaming down her deeply lined face as she repeatedly expressed her gratitude.
"Has the riverbank breached?" Pei Jiangxi asked, frowning.
“There’s only a small stream by the village, and the thing we need most when growing crops is water.” The old woman raised her hand to wipe away her tears and said, “Who could have imagined such a disaster would happen?”
Han Yizhi was half-squatting, one hand still supporting the old woman's back. She looked up at Pei Jiangxi and asked, "Could it be..."
Pei Jiangxi winked knowingly and looked into the distance.
It is a treacherous sword.
*
In the desert, a tall stone wall stretches for three miles from north to south, and is about fifteen zhang high. Although it can be considered somewhat large, it is but a drop in the ocean when thrown into the vast sea of sand.
For the restless grains of sand, this place is like an obstacle from the heavens. Part of the shifting sand is stopped by the stone wall, stops here, slides down, and settles at the bottom of the stone wall. Up close, standing in front of the stone wall and looking up, this "obstacle from the heavens" is not as natural as it appears from a distance.
A layer of sand covered the stone wall, but one could vaguely see neatly arranged square marks. The marks were exceptionally square and regular, with identical spacing between them. They didn't seem to be the work of a natural, freehand carving, but rather the work of human chiseling.
This is a creation of humankind. Or perhaps more accurately, it is a creation made by humankind based on the ingenious craftsmanship of nature, and after modification.
One of the square sections had a barely perceptible crack in its center. The "mark" came to life, opening outwards. The accumulated yellow sand was shaken off, revealing the previously concealed carvings: icebergs, confluences of rivers, poplar trees, and camels.
The guard stood behind the half-open window, his gaze fixed intently on the desert below. This was the only route in and out of the Blood Palace.
The group heading to Lubo Town had long passed their designated return time. In the desert, it was not uncommon for people to be delayed or even disappear due to sandstorms. But at this particular moment, a strange phenomenon appeared in the red night sky over this desert that had remained unchanged for ten years.
The location of the strange phenomenon was precisely in the direction of Lubo Town.
Last night, the scouts sent out returned to the palace with news that the returning convoy from Lubo Town had been annihilated. Along the convoy's likely return route, the scouts found some finely shredded, bloodstained clothing. At the location where the clothing was found, they also discovered the source of the strange phenomenon.
The scout witnessed a truly miraculous sight. Under the starlight, the sand on the ground flowed slowly into a bottomless pit, from which flames grew and rose. Red light spread across the dome, washing away all the darkness of the night. The color of the flames reflected on his face, and even the glittering stars were tinged with a unique red.
Those were flames that should never appear in the desert. As for the team that should have arrived at the Blood Palace long ago, they were probably already engulfed in the flames.
In the latter half of Chen Shi (7-9 AM), Ling Guang led a group of men into the sight of the supervising soldier, with the scout who brought back the message riding at the head of the group. As the supervising soldier had expected, Ling Guang couldn't contain himself and led his men off towards Lubo Town.
On the other side, He Zi'an, sitting cross-legged, was drenched in sweat. The sweat soaked his clothes, then quickly dried, leaving only coarse, salty residue. He turned around; the camel had already disappeared from his sight.
Tiny grains of sand on the ground were swirling towards the enormous fire pit before him. The menacing flames seemed intent on devouring even the heat of the sun. Although He Zi'an couldn't see the center of the flames, he could sense the violent aura of the Calamity Sword.
He Zi'an hesitated. The initial image of his sword intent was rain. Faced with the raging flames before him, he couldn't help but ask himself, water and fire are two extremes of things, could he really make such a leap?
It's actually the same, isn't it? A man's voice echoed in He Zi'an's mind. This wasn't the voice he usually heard when he talked to himself; he was almost certain that the voice came from someone other than himself.
The longsword swayed in the unstable air currents. It lay horizontally on He Zi'an's knees, with only two points of contact, yet it unexpectedly maintained a delicate balance.
Looking at the scarred longsword, He Zian suddenly thought of Li Letian.
“It’s very cold and it’s very hot, but they’re essentially the same,” Li Letian said.
By the way, this sentence was said by Li Letian.
“How could they be the same?” That night, He Zi’an and Li Na’er almost simultaneously refuted Li Letian’s statement.
But at this moment, He Zi'an had to reconsider what Li Letian had said. It seemed to be some kind of guidance, leading him to make his own choice.
"Miss Xin has always chosen you."
The scorching heat of the flames made He Zi'an somewhat dazed. In his memory, Li Letian's face began to blur, leaving only a faint voice. It was like a low murmur, like the murmur of a dream.
The camel in the distance knelt down, no longer making any move to urge He Zi'an to leave. Its dark eyes remained fixed on the direction it had just departed.
He Zi'an had just jumped down facing the flames.
*
"Lord Nishimiya".
The guard emerged from the room and happened to encounter two patrolling disciples. They walked listlessly, their sword hilts gripping the ground with two fingers, the longswords dragging on the floor, raising negligible dust. Upon seeing the guard, they quickly straightened up, gripped their dusty swords tightly, and their playful expressions vanished. However, the surprise in their eyes was unmistakable; they clearly hadn't expected to encounter the guard here.
As a natural barrier to the Blood Palace, this grotto was once a bustling outpost. However, that was about thirty years ago. Now, only a handful of people patrol and keep watch, a far cry from the Blood Palace's heyday.
One of them couldn't help but glance into the room the guard had emerged from. Inside, there were only some missing stools and piles of miscellaneous items. From the guard's footprints, it was clear that the room was covered in a thick layer of dust.
The guard nodded in acknowledgment, holding the broken lock on the door in one hand, and said, "The lock on this room is broken. Find a new one to replace it."
"Yes." The two bowed their heads and replied, secretly relieved that the supervising soldier did not reprimand them for their carefree attitude.
"Go."
The two jogged past the guards.
After leaving the grotto, the supervising soldier did not immediately return to his palace. Instead, he bypassed all the guards along the way and entered the long passageway leading to the forbidden Blood Palace.
The closed road led straight underground, the flames of oil lamps flickering on the stone walls on either side, a testament to the presence of the wind. Yet, the guard felt not even the slightest touch on his face.
Throughout the passageway, only the sound of her footsteps echoed and reflected. The guard gripped her longsword tightly; even though she was now the "Western Palace's" most esteemed official, she couldn't hide her nervousness as she entered.
"If I'm just overthinking it, that's good," the soldier thought to himself, quickening his pace as he ventured deeper into the area. The echoes of his footsteps grew increasingly frequent.
The light flickered. Lonely footsteps echoed, one after another.
At the end of the long, straight passageway hung a painting of a young woman. Beneath her eye was a beauty mark, visible only as a tear. After the guard reverently bowed, he turned left, rounded two corners, and arrived before a stone gate.
The guard carefully cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and then said, "Master, how are you? Your disciple has come to see you."
*
Fog rose over the bald cypress forest.
In the hazy distance, the sound of oars striking the water could be heard first, and then a figure in a boat appeared.
The disciple of Yanyu Tower who was feeding the cat on the shore stood up and squinted, trying to see through the mist.
"Is that Master? Master is back?" several more delicate voices asked.
As the small boat drew closer, the face and figure of the person rowing it gradually became clearer. The man had white hair but a youthful face, and carried four long swords on his back.
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