Not until evening did Feng Ke hear from the extremely anxious Tian Nan about Lian Shenwei wanting to spar with Qiu Che.
He’d packed most of his belongings, thinking about how he and his old man would fatten Lian Shenwei up after luring him to the Feng family.
When he first heard about the match, he was even stunned for a moment, suspecting he’d heard wrong.
Then reacting, his expression darkened as he went to Qiu Che’s quarters—
Already empty.
“Your master left too?”
Tian Nan: “Master Qiu Che went to the agreed location for the match. Master is still at the manor.”
…
Night fell.
Lian Shenwei changed into nimble martial attire and took out the Cangshan Sword sealed in its case.
After retrieving the Snow-Bearing Sword, he’d had no opportunity to give it to Li Ningfeng, so it temporarily remained here with him, placed together with the Cangshan Sword.
Bang!
The door was forcefully pushed open.
Feng Ke stood expressionlessly in the doorway: “Reason.”
Lian Shenwei sighed: “I learned about the Northern Yi matter. The frontier needs a general.”
If his body were still as good as ten years ago, he needn’t be so roundabout—he’d request to go himself. But right now his body simply couldn’t withstand the journey’s hardships.
“You want Qiu Che to go?” Feng Ke didn’t understand. “His ancestors did have a general, but that was so long ago. Qiu Che has read very little military strategy—he’s completely unsuited to leading troops.”
“I have no intention of having him lead troops.”
“Then what are you trying to do?”
Lian Shenwei was very calm: “Ningfeng’s leg recovery needs about another month. From the capital rushing at full speed to the frontier takes most of a month. Even if recovery on the road is slower, within ten-odd days after reaching the frontier he’ll be completely healed.”
“A temporarily lame commanding general won’t inspire subordinates’ confidence. But if this general has an invincible sword, even if movement is difficult, people will still fear him.”
“Qiu Che will be that sword during those ten-odd days of recovery.”
Internal energy and sword arts cultivated to Qiu Che’s level were themselves a deterrent. Those with cultivation higher than Qiu Che, he didn’t trust their backgrounds. Those with trustworthy backgrounds, like Ming Zhu and Tian Nan, didn’t match Qiu Che’s sword skills and acuity. He was the most suitable choice.
“He’ll never agree,” Feng Ke said. “That guy Qiu Che has no good feelings toward the court.”
Lian Shenwei wouldn’t force Qiu Che to do anything. He merely objectively told him about this matter, letting Qiu Che make his own choice, and stated clearly that even if he refused, he still had other methods.
“He didn’t agree, but he didn’t refuse either.”
After hearing him out, Qiu Che only told him, “Our duel has an established custom—the loser grants the winner one request. If you defeat me, naturally you can have me do anything.”
Feng Ke was quiet for a few seconds. “…Actually, as long as you ask, Qiu Che will…”
Lian Shenwei shook his head: “Yes, as long as I ask, he’ll definitely agree.”
“But me using past friendship to request his help, versus me fairly defeating him and using the duel’s conditions to request his help—the difference between these is too great.”
Moreover, because of Qiu Cheng, he already owed Qiu Che. If he chose the former, he could never hold his head up before Qiu Che again in this lifetime.
He softened his voice. “Lian Shenwei can use any means to achieve his ends, discard dignity and integrity, be filthy and despicable. But in Qiu Che’s eyes, I am Ximian, I am Lian Yubai.”
“These two names are clean and proud.”
So he must give his all. No need for charitable pity or sympathy.
Feng Ke looked at him: “Are these more important than life?”
Lian Shenwei answered: “Yes.”
Feng Ke exhaled sharply, suddenly stepped forward and grabbed his wrist, then turned and pulled him toward the door: “I’m taking you away.”
Lian Shenwei tried to break free, but without being able to use internal energy, he was no match for Feng Ke. Helplessly: “Feng Ke.”
Feng Ke acted as if he hadn’t heard: “We’re leaving right now. I’ve packed everything. Bring your and your sister’s swords. The Regent Prince manor’s things—forget them. What does the Feng family not have? Leave it all here, burn it down, no loss.”
“I’ve prepared the carriage too. Don’t worry about food on the road, I—”
“Feng Ke!”
“Lian Yubai!”
Feng Ke whirled around abruptly, eyes slightly red, glaring at him fiercely. “You think I can’t do anything about you, don’t you?!”
“Wasn’t it you who promised me back then?! Once Ying Jingjue ascended, you’d go with me to the Feng family for treatment? Now you pull this stunt—you think I have no temper?!”
Lian Shenwei was silent for a moment, then slowly pulled his hand free.
“Personally speaking, Jingjue is my nephew—I don’t want to see him in difficulty. Publicly speaking, the frontier people are innocent, the fallen soldiers are innocent. Resolving this problem one day earlier means fewer deaths.”
“I don’t have all those grand thoughts you do. I, Feng Ke, am just a selfish person. The medical ethics I keep were beaten into me by my father with a stick. I only want my family and friends healthy and happy for life. What do other people’s deaths or survival have to do with me?!”
Feng Ke’s lips curved in his habitual mocking smile, stepping back: “You’re amazing, Lian Shenwei. In all the world you’re the greatest, the most magnificent. People curse you behind your back yet you turn around and stake your life for a peaceful golden age—who’ll remember?!”
He coldly turned away, saying one final line: “You’re so capable—I’m leaving. Every time you end up half-dead! This old man won’t save you anymore!”
His figure carrying the medicine bag quickly disappeared. Feng Ke, with his luggage, led his horse and directly left the Regent Prince’s manor.
Tian Nan glanced at his master.
This was bad.
Originally wanting Master Feng to persuade the master, now it turned out Master Feng was angered into leaving instead.
“I’ll go bring Master Feng back.”
“No need.”
Lian Shenwei said, “It’s better he left. He’s treated me all these years and barely gone home.”
By the zi hour, he finally picked up the sword case. “Go to the cliff from last time. If you and Ming Zhu follow, stay far away from us.”
The cliff wasn’t particularly high, with a lush bamboo forest below, rarely visited. He’d deliberately chosen a very late time—no one would see them.
When Lian Shenwei arrived, Qiu Che was polishing his sword.
Qiu Che: “The Wuliang Sword hasn’t left its sheath in ten years, waiting for this day.”
“I heard you’ve earned the reputation of Sword Saint,” Lian Shenwei gripped the Cangshan Sword’s hilt with his left hand, smiling. “Wonder if you can last a while longer under my hand.”
Qiu Che glanced at his right hand that wasn’t holding the sword.
He knew about that hand’s injury, but if Lian Shenwei didn’t tell him, he’d pretend not to know.
Qiu Che also used his left hand. “Since this is a match, it should naturally be fair. If you use your left hand, I can too.”
He stepped forward, gripped the sword hilt with both hands, sword tip pointing down, and cupped his hands in salute.
“I am Qiu Che. I request your guidance.”
Lian Shenwei paused briefly, then his lips curved up. Internal energy surged through his meridians as he slowly drew the Cangshan Sword, stepped forward, lowered his sword and cupped his hands in salute.
“I am Ximian. I request your guidance.”
Then both raised their eyes simultaneously, gazes sharp as blades.
“Ximian, I’ve never beaten you once.”
Fighting spirit blazed like fire in Qiu Che’s eyes. The coldness about him was ignited by fervor. The tip of the Wuliang Sword touched the ground, grinding out tiny sparks.
His figure suddenly rose, shouting: “This time I will definitely defeat you!”
Ximian held his sword horizontally and smiled, his eyes and brows revealing some of his past unrestrained appearance.
“Isn’t that what you say every time!”
This was perhaps the most exhilarating battle of his life.
Wind howled across the ridge. Two figures flew down from the cliff, landing atop swaying bamboo leaves. With both sides giving their all, powerful sword energy was like a mountain collapsing.
…
Within the sea of consciousness.
The moment he controlled Lian Shenwei’s body to draw the sword, Gong Du pinched himself hard in the sea of consciousness, clearing his mind briefly.
He pulled out the script, took a brush and marked an X on a certain section.
Then nodded quite pleased.
Good, good. Soon he could slack off along with this broken body.
***
“Whoa—!”
Feng Ke reined in his horse, eyes dark as he looked at the road ahead. His fingers gripping the reins slowly tightened, knuckles turning white.
Starting and stopping, blown by cold wind for so long, his temper was never that good. Knowing he couldn’t stop Lian Shenwei nor had reason to, he’d gotten angry in the moment. But this long was enough for his heated brain to gradually cool down.
He was angry at Lian Shenwei, but more angry at himself.
Angry he had no way to cure him.
This was the capital outskirts, not far from the duel location Tian Nan told him about. He could even faintly hear the sounds of crossing sword blades.
Ink-blue night sky spread with starlight—such a beautiful night, yet someone insisted on seeking death. By this time, they should have been fighting for a while already.
Internal energy impact at this intensity, compared to last time, created a burden like heaven and earth.
Foolish!
Utterly foolish!
Idiot!
Feng Ke’s expression grew colder and colder.
He turned his horse around. “Hyah!”
The horse ran faster and faster, galloping back the way he came.
Bastard Lian Shenwei, you better hold on.
Wait for this old man to come fish you out.
**
wannaberecluse On SRTT Chapter 50.1