Chapter 29 The Moon Over Wangshu Mountain Knows Not What's on My Mind
The three of them enjoyed a relaxing soak in the hot spring and then floated back to the inn's lobby.
Xi Bingyi had been waiting for a long time. Knowing that Zhou Ziheng was not short of money, she simply ordered more than a dozen jars of fine wine and put them all on the table.
She had originally planned to wait for Zhou Ziheng and Huo Qin to arrive so they could drink together, but the moonlight was so beautiful in winter, and she felt warm all over, plus the aroma of the wine kept tempting her...
By the time Zhou Ziheng appeared, Xi Bingyi had already finished a whole jar of wine by herself.
Zhou Ziheng: Holy crap, Dionysus!
Even after finishing the entire jar, Xi Bingyi remained completely calm, showing no signs of being drunk.
However, she burped somewhat belatedly.
Zhou Ziheng: "..."
He sat down next to Xi Bingyi and, by the moonlight, poured himself a bowl of wine.
Huo Qinshan arrived late, and without saying a word, he lifted the jar and drank.
Upon seeing Huo Qin arrive, Xi Bingyi's eyes lit up. She excitedly slammed her hand on the table, making the wine jars and bowls vibrate.
"Hurry up, you haven't finished telling that legend yet!"
Huo Qin chuckled, swallowed the fine wine in his mouth, and sighed, "I only heard it secondhand."
"I've only heard about the terrifying aspects of the 'One-Branch Sparrow,' and I don't know anything else about it."
The waiter, who had been counting coins on an abacus, perked up immediately upon hearing "a sparrow on a branch."
"Are you gentlemen talking about the story of 'One Sparrow'?" He appeared behind the three of them without them noticing, gossiping, "You guys are really lucky. If we're talking about who in Tang Lincheng is most familiar with 'One Sparrow,' it has to be me!"
Xi Bingyi's gaze was dull: "What makes you say that?"
Zhou Ziheng, however, keenly noticed the difference between the story told by the waiter and Huo Qin, and asked, "Isn't this 'One-Branch Sparrow' a kind of poison?"
The waiter exclaimed in surprise, "How could that be!"
"A sparrow, that's a living, breathing person!"
"Back then, his first encounter with the young lady was right here in this inn!"
This piqued the interest of even the drowsy Zhou Ziheng.
"Not highly poisonous? This is different from the legends we've heard?"
The waiter chuckled, "It's just a legend. It's bound to have some omissions as it's passed around."
"But rest assured, sir, this is absolutely firsthand information!"
As he spoke, he made a gesture as if begging for money, fawning like a cunning merchant.
Zhou Ziheng didn't rush to "pay," but instead raised an eyebrow and looked the other person up and down: "You look to me like you're only in your early twenties. How can you be sure this information is accurate?"
Seeing Zhou Ziheng's disbelieving look, the waiter hurriedly and furtively pulled out a miscellaneous book from his pocket.
He lowered his voice and looked around: "This is important news!"
"Keep this a secret!"
Zhou Ziheng looked at the deserted streets late at night: "..."
In the dead of winter at midnight, all is silent except for a solitary moon hanging in the sky, casting its cold light upon the world.
This inn, like an abandoned boat, sways incessantly in the north wind, casting fragmented shadows.
Zhou Ziheng was speechless: "Don't worry, is there a fifth person here?"
The waiter thought about it and agreed, so he confidently began to extort money from the shop:
"I'll tell you a piece of news. If you find it interesting, you can pay me for the rest of the story, how about that?"
Zhou Ziheng nodded, signaling him to speak first.
"Let's start by asking whether this 'sparrow on a branch' is actually a person."
“I can assure you of that, he is definitely a living person, but why is there a saying that ‘a sparrow on a branch’ is a deadly poison? It’s related to his birth.”
"The sparrow comes from the Western Regions and is very skilled in using poison."
At this point, the waiter paused and gestured to Zhou Ziheng with his eyes that it was time to pay.
Zhou Ziheng: "..."
No, is this all?
There's no such thing as a free lunch.
Xi Bingyi completely ignored her senior brother's speechlessness, grabbed a few pieces of silver and threw them at the shop assistant, impatiently saying, "Tell me quickly, and then what?"
Upon receiving the silver, the waiter secretly weighed it in his hand and then beamed with joy.
"This Sparrow is not his real name, it's just a code name. Just like the names of poisons in the Western Regions, they're too mysterious. Over time, everyone thought that this Sparrow was a deadly poison."
The waiter said it had stopped again.
Even Xi Bingyi couldn't hold back anymore. She pulled out her sword and threatened fiercely, "Get to the point!! Is this what we want to hear?!"
Seeing the snake-like whip, the waiter broke out in a cold sweat and hurriedly said, "I'll talk, I'll talk!"
"Back then, it was here that Yizhique met Yu Wangshu."
"It was a summer night when Miss Yu's carriage was blocked by a strange man..."
“Miss Yu is pampered and is a precious jewel in Chang’an. How could she be so humiliated? Just as she was about to get angry, she saw the strange man slowly lift his hat, revealing half of his delicate and beautiful chin.”
"Her anger, however, vanished in an instant..."
Xi Bingyi leaned close to Zhou Ziheng and Huo Qin and whispered, "It's such a waste of talent that this waiter isn't a storyteller."
Over there, the waiter was still vividly describing this legendary story when Zhou Ziheng's ears twitched, but he sensed another unfamiliar presence.
"Yu Wangshu became curious about the strange man and immediately tried to lift all of his bamboo hats—"
The moment Zhou Ziheng noticed something was wrong, before the waiter could finish speaking, a thin line of blood slit his throat!
The waiter's voice abruptly stopped.
Before the excited expression on his face could even change, extreme horror and bewilderment were reflected in his pupils.
The red thread snapped, blood gushed out, and he died.
"Who goes there?!" Zhou Ziheng shouted, grabbing a chopstick and throwing it towards the source of the noise!
At the same time, Huo Qin's figure vanished from his seat like a wisp of smoke.
Xi Bingyi was drunk and reacted slowly, so she had to use the Ghostly Scroll to pick up the waiter's corpse and examine the wounds.
"Such precise technique!"
"No unnecessary wounds, one move was all it took to kill him!"
Xi Bingyi sobered up considerably, and in the next instant, a strong sense of crisis welled up in her heart!
She rolled over on the table, narrowly avoiding the attack, only to see a sharp object, like a wire, glide through the air.
That was close! If I had been any slower, I might have ended up like the waiter!
"Hiding your head and showing your tail, what kind of coward are you?!" Zhou Ziheng's face was terribly gloomy. He exhaled the dust and angrily slashed at the window of the inn!
The wooden windows broke easily, making a "crashing" sound, with a slight tearing sound of cloth.
Just as the man was about to escape, Huo Qin's arrow arrived.
Strangely, although his arrow was originally aimed at the heart, the man somehow managed to twist it through the narrow window.
An arrow pierced his calf, leaving a pool of blood. The man groaned and, without lingering, dragged his wound away.
Inside the inn, the three martial arts heroes, their faces grim, could only watch hatefully in the direction he had left.
The air still held the faint warmth of burnt firewood and the smell of alcohol, mixed with a biting chill that seeped in through the cracks in the doors and windows.
The chill dispelled the rare tranquility and shattered the peaceful atmosphere.
Zhou Ziheng took a deep breath, suppressing his anger.
Who exactly is this person, possessing such precise assassination techniques and such ingenious escape skills?
Xi Bingyi picked up a thin thread that had fallen to the ground, and with a little force, the fragile cotton thread turned to dust.
Tonight, the three of them were thinking the same thing:
When did such a figure appear in the martial arts world?
Moonlight streamed through the broken window, illuminating the unfinished wine bowl.
The dead waiter's eyes were wide open, and no one knew what the story he hadn't finished telling was like.
Huo Qin rubbed his head and pondered, "I suspect that person is connected to the legend, otherwise he wouldn't be in such a hurry to kill someone to cover it up."
Xi Bingyi took the "priceless" miscellaneous book from the waiter's arms, opened the first page, and found that it was just an ordinary account book.
She wondered, "Perhaps the waiter was just making things up?"
After saying that, she immediately contradicted herself.
If the story were true, he wouldn't have died so quickly.
Xi Bingyi refused to believe it and grabbed the miscellaneous book, shaking it wildly until it almost fell apart.
But soon, a piece of yellow paper that floated down from the miscellaneous notes caught the attention of the three of them.
Zhou Ziheng reached out and took it, carefully unfolding it—
One Hundred Solutions to Poisons from the Western Regions.
He slammed the paper down again.
Huo Qin and Xi Bingyi exchanged a glance, and each saw understanding and ecstasy in the eyes of the three people.
This waiter probably didn't die from telling legends, but rather from mentioning poison from the Western Regions. The people behind him were afraid he would reveal some secrets, so they hurriedly killed him to silence him!
Xi Bingyi hurriedly pried her senior brother's hand away to look, and angrily said, "If you don't want to look, then don't look! Why won't you let us look! Let go of my hand!"
Zhou Ziheng remained unmoved, his head bowed, and the three of them formed a semicircle.
He whispered, "Don't rush, what if that person comes back?"
All three of them held their breath, quietly sensing whether there was a fourth person living in this lonely inn.
After ensuring absolute safety, Zhou Ziheng then unfolded the yellow paper again.
One Hundred Solutions to Poisons from the Western Regions.
The poison of the Western Regions is like the poison of the human heart—unpredictable, mysterious, and difficult to guard against.
I ventured into the Western Regions six times, almost always to no avail. But fortune favors the persistent, and on my seventh journey to the Western Regions, I finally found a child.
Yes, that's right... I can't be sure if this child is from the Western Regions either...
Half of his face was ulcerated. Having practiced medicine and saved lives for many years, I could tell at a glance that he had been poisoned, and there was no antidote for it.
The poison had corroded his face, and I was really shocked when I found him.
When the child saw me, he used his last bit of strength to say, "Please save me," before he completely lost consciousness.
I admit, I didn't initially intend to save him...
After all, as everyone knows, I am on my way to the Western Regions.
Here's a side note: you can only enter the Western Regions at midnight on the eighth day of the eighth lunar month, because only then will the fog shrouding the Western Regions dissipate...
In short, I was in a hurry at the time and really didn't want to save him.
Alas, as everyone knows, I am truly a kind-hearted and compassionate doctor who seeks to heal the sick.
...
Zhou Ziheng closed the paper, somewhat speechless.
Xi Bingyi spoke for him, saying, "No, is this really the antidote for poisons from the Western Regions? Why is this old man talking so much nonsense?! Can't he just get to the point??"
Huo Qin glanced out the window; the moon hung high, and the night was still.
He said, "It's getting late, and we can't finish watching it all at once. Let's watch it again tomorrow."
"Alright." Zhou Ziheng carefully put the yellow paper back into his sleeve, yawned, and went upstairs to his room.
Xi Bingyi had no objections. She had already drunk quite a bit of alcohol, and now that she relaxed, her head was a little dizzy.
Huo Qin was left staring at the shaky window frame, standing alone in the lobby for a very long time.
Dust particles floated in the air, swirling and tumbling in the moonlight.
A cold wind brushed my face, carrying a faint smell of blood.
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