WJ Chapter 112.1

Morning Wind (1.1)

Swift flies the morning wind,
Dense stands the northern forest.

How could it be, how could it be,
That you have forgotten me so much?

—-

A small porcelain cup was pushed in front of the boy.

Ah Ku stared at it. The substance inside was colorless and odorless, appearing to be nothing more than clear water.

Yet he knew exactly what it was — Drunken Immortal’s Village, Medicine Gate’s finest knockout drug. A single small cup of it would be enough to render him unconscious for three full hours.

He was no longer inside Xifeng City. All around him were walls of cold iron forged into a sealed chamber, the light dim and close — uncannily like Medicine Gate’s blood-extraction room. It was also cold, deliberately so, in order to slow the flow of blood during heart-blood extraction.

Ah Ku pressed his brows low, pulling the thick cloak tighter around his shoulders, his voice hoarse. “I won’t drink the drug.”

In truth, it need not have come to this — if he simply circulated his internal energy, he could ward off even the bitter wind and snow atop Mount Shenlie. A little cold like this should be nothing at all.

But now things were different. He would rather endure the freezing cold than spare even a fraction of his internal energy — every drop was needed to protect his heart meridian during the extraction. Just as he would rather bear the raw agony of a long needle piercing his heart than surrender his consciousness. How much resistance, willpower and obsession could truly muster in the face of death, he could not calculate with certainty. Ah Ku simply refused to give up a single thread of hope for survival.

He lowered his head and rubbed his cheek against the soft fur of the cloak. Yun Guyan and Wen Huan were also inside this iron chamber, both watching him with complicated expressions.

Guan Muyan was heating the needle over a flame. At Ah Ku’s words, he let out a strange cold laugh. “Don’t underestimate the pain of a needle through the heart. If you don’t take the knockout drug, there’s a decent chance you’ll die from the pain alone.”

“I won’t,” Ah Ku said firmly. “I know my limits. The pain won’t kill me.”

If anything, more pain was preferable.

Pain was the surest way to keep a person alert. He was not afraid of pain. He was afraid of never waking up.

“Fine.” Guan Muyan gave a dismissive snort through his nose and waved his hand. “Take off your upper garments and lie down on the iron bed.”

Ah Ku rose to his feet and without hesitation stripped off his clothes, exposing a soft and unblemished chest, then walked toward the mechanical iron bed at the far end of the room. It had been many years since he had last lain on one of these contraptions.

When he came to a stop beside the iron bed, Ah Ku pressed his palm over his heart. He knew… that very soon, a permanent scar would be branded into the left side of his chest.

****

A sword hung on the wall above the bedside in the wooden house.

Yun Changliu stared at it. Ah Ku had left that very morning, and he had seen him off all the way to the red pavilion ten li outside Xifeng City before a reluctant farewell.

When Ah Ku said his goodbye, the Young Sect Leader had been struck, for no clear reason, by a sudden wave of unease. Yet Yun Changliu had not dwelt on it, putting it down to worry over the long road ahead. How long it would be before they met again, he could not know — and if he claimed he felt no sadness or loss, not even he would believe it.

Without Ah Ku, he was at a loss. Out of sheer habit he found himself walking into Ah Ku’s peach grove, and even knowing the wooden house had no master now, Yun Changliu still liked to come and sit here.

But then he saw the sword.

Most of the house’s belongings had been packed away. The bedding had been tidied, and everything meant to be taken had been taken. Yet this brand-new sword — the personal saber he had gifted Ah Ku just yesterday — seemed to have been forgotten by its owner, left behind.

Did he forget to take it? the Young Sect Leader wondered inwardly. On such a long journey, how can one travel without a good sword?

Ah Ku had only just left a short while ago. If he set off now to catch up, he should still be able to reach him.

Yun Changliu reached out, took the sword, turned, and strode swiftly out of the house door. There was even a quiet flicker of delight within him — this was a perfectly good excuse to see Ah Ku one more time.

Even if it was only a brief moment, even if they would have to part again in the end… one last glimpse was enough to kindle a small spark of joy in his heart.

Wen Feng was waiting outside the door. Seeing the Young Sect Leader moving with such urgency, he quickly fell into step behind him. “Young Sect Leader? What are you—”

Yun Changliu raised the sword in his hand for Wen Feng to see, and said simply, “He didn’t take it with him.”

Wen Feng’s heart gave a start. There were things he knew — certain things. The young attendant kept his expression carefully neutral as he smiled and said, “It’s already too late to catch up, Young Sect Leader. Besides, wouldn’t Ah Ku just buy himself a sword along the way? You’re letting your concern get the better of your judgment.”

But the Young Sect Leader was in no mood to be dissuaded. He was already imagining the chance to see Ah Ku again, to walk alongside him a little further — returning the sword was almost beside the point.

Yun Changliu paid not the slightest heed to Wen Feng’s counsel. He considered going for a horse, but decided that would take too long, so he simply gathered his qinggong and leapt down the mountain.

Wen Feng could not hold him back, and his own martial skill was no match for Yun Changliu’s speed. He called out urgently several times and received not a single response. He was simultaneously furious and alarmed.

After all, Ah Ku had not set off in any particular direction at all… No matter how desperately the Young Sect Leader chased, how could he possibly find the person he was looking for?

All that could be hoped now was that when Yun Changliu realized he could not catch up, he would stop being stubborn and come back on his own.

Wen Feng let out a sigh, resigned to his fate, and ran back toward Xifeng City to find a horse.

****

North of Mount Shenlie. Within the hidden chamber.

The mechanisms built into the iron bed clicked and turned with a series of clack-clack-clacks, slowly raising one end of the bed until it tilted upright, standing nearly vertical. The boy bound to it by the bed’s internal restraints was carried upright along with it, his upper body leaning forward, his chest facing a small table laden with blood-extraction instruments.

Seen like this, the iron bed no longer resembled a bed at all — it looked far more like an instrument of torture.

It had been a long time since Ah Ku had last been put in iron shackles. This time it was not only his wrists, ankles, and throat — his elbows, shoulders, waist, and abdomen were all bound tightly as well, leaving him completely unable to move.

Yun Guyan clasped his hands behind his back and walked to stand before him, his sharp eyes sweeping over the boy’s gently rising and falling chest.

Eight years. Eight years had passed.

On that moonlit night eight years ago, he had taken off his outer robe for a small child to catch fireflies with, then hoisted the little one onto his shoulders and carried him up Mount Shenlie to Xifeng City.

Time had passed in the blink of an eye. The Winter Listeners spread throughout Medicine Gate, and that young master of the Duanmu family of Wanci Manor — the one he had schemed to abduct — had grown into this.

…At first it had only been to placate Changliu. Yet without realizing it, he had spent more than seven years raising this child himself.

Never mind a person — even a stone held in one’s hands for seven or eight years would come to feel familiar.

Yun Guyan’s expression grew darker still. The fingers hidden behind his back beneath his wide sleeves slowly curled, then relaxed.

Counting his three biological children: Changliu, whose nature had been made too withdrawn by Fengchun Sheng, greeted him with more reverence than warmth; Danjing had grown increasingly defiant over the years, practically picking a quarrel the moment he laid eyes on him; and little Chanjuan was always afraid of him — father and daughter barely exchanged a handful of words in an entire year.

And yet the boy before him — from the very beginning, he had demanded sweets and gifts without the least ceremony, seized every opportunity to bicker and make trouble with him, excelled brilliantly in both scholarship and martial training without ever giving cause for disappointment, and laughed and grumbled and argued before him with not a shred of restraint…

Yun Guyan had privately suspected, on more than one occasion, that this — roughly — was what the so-called “father and son” of ordinary families must look like.

Of course, Yun Guyan knew it was all an illusion.

They were not father and son. They were enemies wrapped in a veneer of false peace. If he could be blinded and softened by a counterfeit bond like this, he had no business being Sect Leader of the Zhuyin Sect.

Yet still — if this child were truly to die…

If he were to die.

The days ahead would be, in truth, rather dull.

Perhaps it was because Yun Guyan had been staring at him for too long. Ah Ku tilted his head up and gave the Sect Leader a small smile, a few loose strands of hair swaying with the motion. “If I die, Sect Leader, just bury me under the peach tree behind that little wooden house.”

“As for the Young Sect Leader… follow what we agreed on before: my ‘divine physician master’ will use the miraculous drug in his possession to cure Fengchun Sheng. The price is that I will follow my ‘master’ in wandering the world, never again having any connection to the Zhuyin Sect.”

Yun Guyan suddenly let out a cold laugh. “Weren’t you swearing up and down that you’d survive? Now that the moment has come, you’ve lost your nerve?”

Ah Ku said calmly, “One should always think through the worst outcome as well. Otherwise, when it arrives without warning, there is nothing but chaos.”

…At this point, the worst he could conceive of was simply death.

“Great Sect Leader Yun, are the two of you quite done?!”

Guan Muyan suddenly burst out in irritation, shouldering his way past and giving Yun Guyan a shove to one side. He set the copper bowl — meant to catch the blood — into position beneath Ah Ku’s chest, then raised an eyebrow. “What’s this, then? Having a change of heart?”

Yun Guyan’s face darkened. He clicked his tongue and stepped back, making way for Guan Muyan. Wen Huan also stepped forward, calling softly, “Sect Leader.”

Yun Guyan silenced Wen Huan with a wave of his hand. He looked at Ah Ku one last time, long and deep, then said suddenly, “If you do have the good fortune to survive, it would be fine for you to stay by Changliu’s side afterward.”

Ah Ku’s eyes lit up in an instant. Though he could not move his body, he visibly tensed with delight, his voice bursting with joy. “Truly? Sect Leader, you mustn’t deceive me!”

“This lord’s word is inviolable.” Yun Guyan let out a haughty laugh and turned away. “Once Fengchun Sheng is cured, Changliu will one day succeed as Sect Leader of the Zhuyin Sect. At that point, who he chooses to cherish and protect, and whom he chooses to take as a partner — is that something this lord can still control?”

Ah Ku understood, and broke into a quiet, pleased laugh. He thought to himself that Yun Changliu really was something else — he had actually gone to Yun Guyan to speak of taking a partner.

Imagining the Sect Leader’s expression in that moment, he could only picture it as tremendously entertaining, and found himself smiling all the more.

Guan Muyan walked forward with a grave expression and met Ah Ku’s eyes for a brief moment before silently looking away.

In his right hand, he held a long silver-white needle, its tip glinting with a cold light.

The iron chamber fell into silence. Under the watchful gaze of Yun Guyan and Wen Huan, Guan Muyan reached out and pressed his hand against the left side of Ah Ku’s chest. He pressed firmly several times, locating the beating heart within, then said, “Close your eyes.”

Ah Ku obediently closed his eyes.

****

North of Mount Shenlie. A stretch of withered, overgrown trees and thorned brambles spread in tangled disarray — a landscape of wild desolation.

This place was already far from Xifeng City. Yun Changliu frowned and looked around. Something felt off. Only now, belatedly, did it dawn on him that he had likely taken a wrong turn somewhere.

At this rate, catching up with Ah Ku was almost certainly hopeless. The Young Sect Leader felt a deep pang of disappointment — but more pressing than that was the troubling realization that, in this unfamiliar terrain, he could not even find his way back to Xifeng City.

He wandered a few steps further, and suddenly a shadow flickered at his side. Two Yin Ghosts dropped to their knees before him. “Young Sect Leader, please stop!”

Yun Changliu glanced over in surprise. Under normal circumstances, when their master faced no threat to his life, it was a grave transgression for a Yin Ghost to appear without being summoned. The Young Sect Leader found it a little strange.

Then again, perhaps his father had specifically instructed these Yin Ghosts not to let him wander too far on his own.

Sure enough, one of them spoke. “This place is already far from Xifeng City. Please allow us to escort you back, Young Sect Leader.”

Yun Changliu pressed his lips together and said nothing. He was on the verge of agreeing — but then unease rose in him again, sudden and inexplicable. Something was wrong. He simply could not name what.

The Young Sect Leader raised his eyes. Above him, bare, gnarled branches forked in every direction across the skyline.

How quiet it was.

Just moments ago he could still hear the birdsong and insects of early spring. But since entering this stretch of wild forest, the silence had become total and unnatural.

Yun Changliu ordinarily loved quiet. But this kind of silence — so complete, so wrong — made his chest ache for no reason he could name.

The Yin Ghosts bowed their heads and again entreated him to return. Not wishing to trouble his subordinates, the Young Sect Leader hesitated, then nodded, and followed the two Yin Ghosts back for a few steps.