The Story of Stealing Purple Bamboo
In the morning, the cliffs of Yanmen Pass were still covered with frost.
The leader was wearing a rusty suit of armor, with the helmet pulled down so low it almost covered his entire face.
He moved inching along the rock face like a rat stealing oil, his colorful headgear tightly stuffed into his breastplate.
If they get beaten up and recognized, the Hundred Birds Gang will lose all face.
Purple bamboo grows in the crevices of cliffs, its entire body translucent like purple jade, and when the morning light shines on it, it shimmers with an expensive luster.
The eldest brother swallowed hard, his hand trembling slightly as he pulled out a small hoe.
"Ten...that's enough to repair the entire roof..."
He muttered to himself, but his hands moved swiftly, carefully digging out the purple bamboo, wrapping it in soft cloth, and stuffing it into his backpack.
Sweat trickled down the gaps in the armor, hitting the stones with a soft thud.
With his backpack gradually filling up, the eldest brother let out a long sigh of relief and prepared to retreat.
"Little thief."
A cool female voice came from above. The eldest brother froze on the spot, then slowly looked up.
On the cliff, a red dress fluttered in the wind.
The woman stood with her arms crossed, her black hair tied up high, her eyebrows and eyes sharp as if cut by a knife. She was none other than Mo Tao, known in the martial arts world as "Purple Bamboo Asura".
She lightly touched the ground with her toes and landed gracefully, without a speck of dust on her skirt.
"Stealing purple bamboo."
Her voice was cold and detached.
"Did you get my permission?"
The eldest brother opened his mouth to argue, but then saw a red sleeve flick, and a strong wind rushed towards him.
His vision went black, and the last thing he saw was the black iron token with the character "Mo" engraved on it at the woman's waist.
When I woke up again, the sun was already setting in the west.
The eldest brother rubbed his aching neck and discovered that his backpack was empty; the ten purple bamboos had vanished.
He gave a bitter laugh and collapsed against the cliff face, gazing at the sky. The sunset glow bathed the clouds like spilled rouge, a beauty that made his heart ache.
"We can't go back empty-handed..."
He struggled to his feet, his eyes scanning the surroundings, and finally spotted a stray purple bamboo in a crevice in the cliff. It was small and lonely, but its purple color was pure.
This time, he didn't care about hiding and pounced on the dig with his bare hands.
The fingernails cracked and bled, mixing with the soil and sticking to the roots of the purple bamboo.
Having finally dug it out, it turned to flee.
"Stubborn and inflexible."
Mo Tao remained in the same spot, as if waiting specifically for him.
Her red dress was edged with gold by the setting sun, but her eyes held an icy depth.
"Leave the purple bamboo behind, or leave your life behind."
The eldest brother hugged the piece of purple bamboo tightly and retreated step by step.
Suddenly, a clear, melodious male voice pierced the air.
"Wait a moment, young lady!"
The young man in the green robe fell from the clouds, his clothes fluttering like a crane spreading its wings.
He lightly touched the treetops with his toes, and when he spun around and landed, he brought with him a scent of pine resin.
With bright eyes and a lazy smile on his lips, he twirled a bamboo flute between his fingers.
Mo Tao frowned.
"Lime? Mind your own business."
Qing Ning didn't answer, but instead pulled out the long zither from her back.
With a sharp "clang," the strings of the zither vibrated and transformed into a crimson-gold firebird, which cried out and pounced on Mo Tao!
The heatwave forced the eldest brother to take three steps back, his eyes widening.
The firebird collided with the red sleeves, scattering sparks across the sky.
Mo Tao spun around to dissipate the force, and her skirt bloomed in an arc like a blood-red lotus.
She had barely steadied herself when Qing Ning leaped into the air, her flute transforming into a sword, her long laugh dispelling the clouds.
"This move is called—Ten Thousand Swords Cutting Through the Clouds!"
Several lightsabers flew out from his sleeves, arrayed like phoenix feathers, and shot down swiftly!
The sword wind severed a strand of hair from Mo Tao's temple. Unable to block it, her knees buckled and she knelt on one knee, a metallic taste rising in her throat.
The lime floated back to the leader, and the flute twirled around.
"How is it? Handsome or not?"
The eldest brother hugged Zizhu tightly and nodded vigorously.
Mo Tao wiped her lips with her sleeve and sneered.
"Is the Divine Physiognomist Pavilion going to become a thief's protector?"
"No, no," Qing Ning raised an eyebrow.
"I just can't stand seeing a beautiful woman resort to violence."
He suddenly leaned down and whispered in the boss's ear.
"Hey, how many bamboo stalks did you steal from her?"
"Ten, ten..."
Qing Ning clicked her tongue and pulled out a gold-embroidered purse from her bosom, tossing it over.
"I'll give you double the money."
She winked at Mo Tao again.
"Is that enough to buy the small one he's holding?"
Mo Tao clenched her purse tightly, her knuckles turning white, and finally let out a cold snort. Her red figure disappeared into the twilight in a few leaps.
On the way back, Qingning hummed a little tune while chewing on a blade of grass.
The eldest brother held the blood-stained purple bamboo and hesitated for a long time.
"Thank you, brother... but why did you help me?"
Qing Ning turned her head to look at him, her eyes filled with scattered stars.
"My master said that the sunset at Yanmen Pass, paired with Mo Tao's discomfitured face, is a sight to behold."
He burst into laughter.
"Having seen it today, I can confirm its reputation is well-deserved!"
In the distance, Mo Tao stood on a solitary peak, watching the two figures disappear into the distance.
She stroked the cloud pattern of the Divine Image Pavilion on the money pouch, a silent smile playing on her lips.
"Fool," she whispered.
"That bag of gold beads is enough to buy half of the Purple Bamboo Grove."
The night wind whipped up the red skirt, like a wildfire that burned brightly and never went out.
In the end, the roof of the Hundred Birds Gang was never completed. The leader placed the purple bamboo in front of the hall and sighed over it every day.
Drunk Breeze taps his pipe as he comments.
"Two hundred gold coins for a piece of firewood, the leader is wise."
Small extra——
Only the fried fisherman noticed that every moonlit night, a man in a blue robe would sit on the gang's rooftop playing the flute.
The sound of the flute drifted towards Yanmen Pass, as if waiting for someone to keep a promise.
On the sheer cliff of the pass, a woman in a red dress cleaved a boulder in two with a single sword stroke.
"It's so noisy."
She cursed under her breath, but the tip of her sword picked out a new purple bamboo sapling and carefully planted it back into the crevice of the rock.
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