Chapter 48: The Appointment of Green Bamboo, Moonlight Like Frost
Three days later, on the night of the full moon.
In the suburbs of Beijing, in the green bamboo forest of the Su Mansion, the moonlight is like frost, spreading a chill all over the ground.
This is where Su Zhenting was assassinated, and it is also the destination of revenge chosen by Su Qinghan.
The wind rustled through the bamboo shoots, a whisper or a sigh. The air was filled with the fresh scent of earth and bamboo leaves, but the cold moonlight soaked it in a bone-chilling chill.
Su Qinghan was dressed in white, standing quietly in the most open area of the forest.
She arrived a full hour earlier than the agreed time.
She held the unsheathed "Cold River Snow" sword, the silk ribbon wrapped around the hilt fluttering gently in the night breeze, like a silent spirit-calling banner. Her figure was as straight as a bamboo, her face as calm as water. Only her hands, gripping the scabbard, their knuckles slightly white from exertion, betrayed her inner unrest.
Five years.
For more than 1,800 days and nights, the only belief in her life was for tonight.
She still remembered the afternoon five years ago when the tragic news reached the Su family's old residence in Jiangnan. The sun was shining brightly, yet she felt as if she were sinking into an icy cave. She couldn't believe that the father who always smiled gently, taught her to read and write, and promised to return for her coming-of-age ceremony, would become a cold corpse.
It was not until her adoptive father Tie Wuqing brought her to the capital and handed the blood-stained official robe to her that she completely collapsed.
From that day on, the carefree eldest daughter of the Jiangnan Su family died.
The one who survived was an orphan girl who carried a deep blood feud and was obsessed with revenge.
She abandoned her makeup and took up her sword; she forgot her poetry and memorized the archives. On the icy training grounds of the Six Gates, she shed enough sweat and blood to form a stream. With every swing of her sword, every attack, she silently chanted the word "revenge."
Now, she knew a code name, a legend, a ghost she had never seen but hated to the core, "Candle Shadow".
It was here, in this bamboo forest, that ghost, with an extremely fast sword, ended her father's life and all her happiness.
Tonight, she will put an end to this ghost here with her own hands.
The moon slowly climbed to the zenith, and its silver light shone through the intertwined bamboo leaves, casting mottled light and shadows at her feet.
She stood in this light and shadow, motionless, like a lifeless jade sculpture. Her mind was intensely focused, sensing every movement within a hundred feet. The sound of the wind, the chirping of insects, the falling of leaves... any movement not belonging to this bamboo forest escaped her ears.
However, while waiting for the extreme danger to come, another face appeared uncontrollably in her mind.
That face, handsome, distant, always carries a hint of indelible fatigue. Only when he looks at her, will a trace of real ripples appear in those calm eyes.
Deep night.
This name was like a ball of warm fire, suddenly appearing in her cold thoughts, causing her heart to tremble violently.
She remembered the secluded farmyard, and the frown on his face as he clumsily treated her wounds; she remembered the first meal he cooked, the burnt color and strange taste that made her angry and amused; she remembered his pale face from channeling his internal energy into her, and his peaceful sleeping face with all his defenses removed as he fell asleep on the edge of the bed.
"Candle Shadow" is a ghost hidden in the deepest darkness, the embodiment of pure killing and death.
And Chen Ye... he was just a man who was a little clumsy and not good at speaking, but he would silently chop wood and boil water for her and express his concern with actions.
They are people from two different worlds.
One is an enemy she must kill.
One is the lover she wants to spend the rest of her life with.
Su Qinghan's breathing became slightly disordered. She gripped the hilt tightly, the coldness spreading from her palm to her limbs, trying to expel the inappropriate warmth.
no.
Tonight, she couldn't think about him.
She must be Su Qinghan, the master detective of the Six Gates, the orphan of the Su family seeking revenge for her father. She needs the coolest mind and the most resolute killing intent to face the legendary number one assassin who has never failed.
Any trace of distracting thoughts can be fatal.
But the more you suppress it, the clearer the images become.
She even remembered the agreement they made on the hill when they parted.
"Wait for me... wait until I have taken revenge and settled all my grudges. If you and I are still here by then, and you are still willing... I will wait for you on the bridge where we first met in Yangzhou."
He only said "OK" at that time, but it made her feel more at ease than any oath of love.
Su Qinghan slowly exhaled a breath of foul air, and the white breath quickly dissipated in the cold air.
She suddenly felt less nervous.
Tonight's decisive battle is no longer just for revenge, but to comfort my father's spirit in heaven.
It also has another meaning.
This was the final step towards a new life. As long as she killed Zhuying, she would be able to remove the shackles that had weighed her down for five years and bid farewell to the past.
Then, she could go to Yangzhou as an ordinary woman, Su Qinghan, go to that bridge, and wait for the man named Chen Ye.
She would tell him that revenge had been taken and she was free.
She would ask him if he was still willing to accompany her to see the misty rain of Jiangnan and go through every spring, summer, autumn and winter of the rest of her life.
Thinking of this, Su Qinghan's eyes became incomparably firm and bright.
There was no longer only cold hatred in her heart, but also a flame called "hope" was ignited.
For this hope, she must win tonight.
The moon is at its zenith, it's time.
The wind in the bamboo forest seemed to have stopped at this moment. Everything was completely silent, so still that it made people feel uneasy.
Su Qinghan's heartbeat, following the silence, became steady and powerful. All her emotions were restrained, transformed into the purest fighting spirit.
She heightened all her senses to the extreme.
She could hear the sound of her blood pumping.
She could feel the weight of the moonlight on her shoulders.
She is waiting.
Waiting for the god of death coming in the moonlight.
She was waiting for the candlelight, but her mind was on the deep night. She thought that after she had her revenge, she would go to the bridge in Yangzhou and wait for him.
She believed that he would come.
The moon was at its zenith, and a dark shadow came in the moonlight, silently and swiftly as a ghost.
Su Qinghan's heart sank suddenly at the sight of that movement and pace.
Here it comes.
The last trace of tenderness she had for Chen Ye was instantly severed, replaced by the absolute focus of a top detective and avenger. Her muscles reached a state of perfect, pre-battle preparation. Her internal energy, stimulated by the Canglang Jue, flowed like an undercurrent beneath the calm sea, ready to unleash a monstrous wave at any moment.
Her eyes were fixed on the figure approaching at high speed.
So fast!
Is this the legendary "Candle Shadow" movement?
He seemed not to be running on the ground, but to be gliding between moonlight and shadow. Every step he took was silent, every turn without warning, as if he himself was a shadow, without weight or substance.
Su Qinghan quickly assessed his opponent's strength in his mind.
This Qinggong skill alone was enough to place him among the world's finest. It wasn't as nimble and graceful as his own "Treading Without a Trace in the Snow," but rather a pure efficiency born of stealth and killing. Any more would be cumbersome, any less would be inadequate. Every movement was as precise as if measured with a ruler, imbued with a cold, mechanical beauty.
She held Han Jiangxue's hand tighter.
This is an unprecedented enemy.
However, as the figure got closer and closer, from a hundred feet away, to fifty feet, and then to thirty feet... the ice in Su Qinghan's heart, which was condensed by concentration and fighting spirit, began to crack.
An inexplicable and extremely incongruous sense of familiarity, like an invisible needle, unexpectedly pierced her heart.
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