“What do you think?” Tang Lici opened his eyes and said gently. As soon as he opened his eyes, he sat up, his right hand gripping the black-clothed person’s pulse point, his left hand with five fingers extended, covering the black-clothed person’s face: “Do you think I should stuff all those little insects from earlier into your mouth? Or should I just insert these five fingers into your face, then pull out your eyes, nose, mouth, teeth, and eyebrows from your face? Or…” His five fingers slowly slid down from the black-clothed person’s face, five tender and delicate fingertips sliding from throat to chest: “Or—” Before he could say what the “or” was, the black-clothed person said miserably, “What do you want?”
“I actually don’t want anything,” Tang Lici said gently. “Master Pu Kuisheng, do you know I’ve been waiting for you this day for a very long time?” The black-clothed person hadn’t yet removed his face covering when he suddenly heard his identity revealed, making him even more shocked: “You—” Tang Lici said, “Me what? How would I know it’s you?” His right hand dragged, and Pu Kuisheng fell to his knees before the bed with a thud. Tang Lici’s left hand gently patted his head: “The night Fengliu Shop attacked Haoyun Mountain, who could poison the well? First, that night he had to be in Shanfeng Hall; second, he had to understand poisons; third, he had to have high martial arts—because that extremely clever poisoner used cold internal energy to freeze water into ice, wrapped the poison dissolved in water inside ice blocks, then threw them into the well—this created the illusion that no one was by the well when the ice melted and poison appeared. But this person isn’t actually that clever. It’s midsummer now—to wrap poison in ice blocks, how many people in Shanfeng Hall that night could do this? How many people in Shanfeng Hall that night were great experts in poisons? So Master Pu, you had enormous suspicion.” Pu Kuisheng was speechless: “You—” Tang Lici’s soft palm gently patted his neck again: “Me what? Heh… Given my temperament, with just a bit of suspicion, I’d kill as soon as I said kill, break necks when necks should be broken… but after all, now I’m being a ‘good person’… You collected the poisonous snakes that should have been yours from Fengliu Shop’s control after the battle, and the snakes were too docile toward you—this point was too easy to expose. So I guess your master must not have been very pleased with your actions, so you had to find another way to achieve merit before your master—so you sent people to release poisonous insects intending to kill me…” He laughed lightly: “If I were your master, I’d have already slapped you so hard you’d be looking for your teeth on the ground. If Tang Lici could die so easily, why would your master painstakingly infiltrate the Central Plains Sword Society? Why wouldn’t he just tear off a piece of black cloth to cover his face like you, charge into my room and kill me? He hides with such superb skill, yet has subordinates like you bringing him shame and disgrace—truly pitiable to the extreme.” Hearing this, Pu Kuisheng actually laughed coldly: “Nonsense! My master is thousands of miles away. I thought you really had divine foresight—turns out you’re just guessing wildly. In the Central Plains Sword Society, only Jiang Wenbo and I took those Scarlet Ghost Nine Heart Pills, so we had no choice but to obey Fengliu Shop’s orders. What other master is there? Ridiculous!” Tang Lici heard this and patted his head: “Fool!” Then he gently blew on the back of Pu Kuisheng’s neck. Pu Kuisheng felt a soft warmth on his neck, and all his body hair stood up. He heard him say, “You don’t know the situation, which shows whether you die or are exposed, your master doesn’t care at all. He won’t save you because he has no reason to protect you.”
Pu Kuisheng was covered in cold sweat. Tang Lici smiled at him very happily, released his pulse point with his right hand, and rested his chin on his bent finger: “I won’t kill you—your master is still waiting for you to spread news that I’m severely injured and dying, then you’ll be discovered, then you can die…” Pu Kuisheng’s face was deathly pale: “I… I…” Tang Lici said gently, “Even if Shao Yanping doesn’t expose you, your brilliant master will expose you. This whole thing is just a game, and Master, you… are just a piece that must die. Everyone plays around, and they all treat you like a dog.” Pu Kuisheng suddenly fell to his knees before the bed with a thud: “Young Master, save me! Young Master, save me! I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die… I’m controlled by that poison—in my heart I absolutely don’t want to be like this…” Tang Lici pointed his index finger to his own nose and said slowly, “You… found the most vicious poisonous insect in the world to take my life, and now you’re begging me to save your life?”
Pu Kuisheng knelt on the ground. The moonlight grew brighter, making his shadow particularly black. After staring blankly for a long while, he screamed and rushed out.
The room was filled with moonlight on the floor, while the dark places remained extremely dark. After Pu Kuisheng ran out, suddenly someone said coldly, “So words really can kill people—I never believed it before.” The speaker lightly descended from the ceiling beams without any sound—it was Cheng Yunpao. Tang Lici’s red lips pressed slightly: “What are you here for?” Cheng Yunpao paused slightly: “I…” Tang Lici’s moist black pupils glanced at him briefly: “Have you figured out why I wasn’t poisoned?” Cheng Yunpao took a long breath: “That’s right. You circulated your energy on the bedding, so the poisonous insects couldn’t penetrate, and your nascent blazing yang energy was too much for the newly hatched small insects to bear. Staying on the bedding too long, they died from overheating.” Tang Lici smiled slightly: “Not just died from overheating—they were burned to ash.” Cheng Yunpao said, “Such powerful yang energy. How are your injuries?” Tang Lici didn’t answer. After a while he smiled lightly: “No matter what injuries I receive, as long as they’re not fatal, I won’t die.” Cheng Yunpao’s gaze swept up and down his body: “You have extraordinary natural gifts—you seem immune to all poisons.” Tang Lici said, “Do you regret that you’re susceptible to all poisons?” Cheng Yunpao was slightly stunned: “How could I?” Tang Lici’s gaze flowed, sweeping across his face. He felt there was another meaning in his words but couldn’t understand it. Just as he was puzzled, he saw Tang Lici smile slightly: “The night is deep. Hero Cheng should rest early. I’m tired too.” Cheng Yunpao had originally come to secretly guard. Since Tang Lici was fine, he nodded and left with his sword.
In the dark night, Tang Lici slowly lay back down on the bed. Hah… immune to all poisons… This matter had once made him very sad, but at this moment, he seemed truly somewhat grateful, as if he was about to forget… the days when he resented being a monster. Many unknown past events suddenly became clear, many undercurrents couldn’t be suppressed in his heart. He sat up. On the wall of the room hung a pipa—Shao Yanping had specially prepared it for him, naturally targeting Liu Yan’s black pipa. Now he took the pipa into his arms. His fingers moved, producing several ding-dong sounds. The deep resonant sound rose like surging tide water, spreading throughout all of Shanfeng Hall.
A’Shui held Fengfeng in her own room. Fengfeng was sucking his finger, almost asleep. She had folded the clothes to take away tomorrow and was about to sleep when she suddenly heard the sound of strings. Like hidden tide surging, it instantly swept over her mind. She suddenly turned around, her thoughts completely blank for a moment, staring blankly in the direction the string sound came from.
Cheng Yunpao hadn’t yet returned to his room and was originally practicing sword in the forest when he suddenly heard the string sound. He couldn’t say whether it was pleasant or unpleasant. He walked slowly forward, concentrating to listen.
Shao Yanping was still in his study worrying about what to do with those white-clothed women no one had come to claim. He also heard this string sound and raised his head, full of surprise. That night when Fengliu Shop attacked, he had hoped and prayed but hadn’t heard Tang Lici’s string sound. Why tonight…
Puzhu and Xifang Tao were still playing chess. Hearing the sound, the two looked at each other, then lowered their heads to continue playing chess. Though seemingly nothing had changed, the atmosphere of quiet meditation and tranquil composure had completely altered.
All of Shanfeng Hall seemed to suddenly quiet down, everyone harboring various thoughts, quietly listening to the string sounds.
“How… who says I’ve changed so much recently? Honesty is actually simple—the longer it hurts people. Me… a wooden puppet offered on the altar in the city, so fake… won’t fulfill any prayers. You say you’re humble as a flower, where you bloom and where you wither, you needn’t tell anyone; you say though you bear no fruit, you still have hope and dreams—life need not be troubled; as for me, I’ve said nothing. Life is too long, life is too short—who can control anyone else’s fate?” Tang Lici sang in a low voice, very softly, very softly. Only the pipa strings could be heard, each note lonely: “I’m not the Buddha on stage who saves all living beings, I’m not the demon in the underworld who bewitches souls. I sit amid prosperity yet cannot find rest, I calculate millions daily yet can never calculate heaven’s mysteries… Five fingers hold thousands of riddles, how to continue as heaven and earth spin…” This song was from long, long ago—the first single released by the Bronze Flute band, and they had only ever released this one song, called “Heart Demon.”
A’Shui listened quietly. She couldn’t hear the lyrics, only listening to that ding-dong mournful melody that gradually changed from lonely to passionate and stirring. The tune suddenly shifted from clear to chaotic mixed sounds, like wind blowing emptily, like someone silently weeping against a wall, like a madman dancing in heavy rain, like wine cups shattering on the ground one by one, wine and tears scattered everywhere in desolation… She breathlessly changed her breathing, her heart beating like drums. She opened her mouth but didn’t know what to say. Covering her mouth with her hand, tears she hadn’t seen for years burst from her eyes, and she… still didn’t know why she was crying.
Was it just because he played the pipa?
Cheng Yunpao was in the forest. Though far from Tang Lici’s room, with his hearing he could clearly hear every word Tang Lici sang softly. After hearing it, he half-understood, puzzled by these topsy-turvy, incomprehensible words—what did they mean? But hearing them wasn’t annoying. Taking a step forward, he spread his five fingers and looked down at his palm lines. Years of martial world life swept through his mind. Five fingers holding thousands of riddles—what had he ever truly grasped? And what had he let go?
Shao Yanping also heard the singing. His mouth hung open for a long time, unable to close. He too had been a romantic youth, had watched countless songs and dances, had invited the most famous singing girls, had heard the most moving voices. But Tang Lici’s low singing and casual playing, though the pipa sound was mournful, wild, and chaotic—broken beyond melody—was soul-stirring. Listening in fascination, Shao Yanping shook his head and let out a long breath. The dust of years of toil pressing on his heart seemed to find a window, suddenly blown away in all directions by the wind. After exhaling that breath, without a smile, he didn’t know what to say.
Sometimes, when some people remove their masks, they don’t know what to do. And Tang Lici—was he wearing various strange and bizarre masks, or had he actually never worn any?
Puzhu and Xifang Tao were still playing chess. After the pipa sounded, Xifang Tao held a piece between her fingers for a very long time. Puzhu said, “Why don’t you play?” Xifang Tao said, “I’m filled with emotion. Doesn’t the Master have any thoughts after hearing this music?” Puzhu said blandly, “When the heart doesn’t move, cicadas don’t sing. Naturally there are no attachments. Hearing or not hearing—what difference is there?” Xifang Tao sighed softly: “I don’t have the Master’s concentration. This piece moves the soul and makes one lose interest in chess.” Puzhu said, “Then put it down and continue tomorrow.” Xifang Tao put down the white piece in her hand and nodded. Suddenly she asked, “I’ve never asked—Master is so young, why did you become a monk?” Puzhu said calmly, “I became a monk in childhood. There’s no distinction between young and old.” Xifang Tao said, “I see. Since Master became a monk in childhood, why don’t you observe the precepts?” Puzhu was known for “becoming a monk without shaving his head, keeping none of the five precepts.” As a strict Shaolin disciple, he was truly an anomaly. “Precepts—as long as one has no intention, it doesn’t matter whether you observe them or not. Observing is fine, not observing is also fine,” Puzhu said indifferently. Xifang Tao’s bright eyes turned, and she smiled slightly: “But don’t you care about people’s speculation and gossip?” Puzhu said, “It doesn’t matter either. Buddha isn’t in the Western Heaven but in cultivation. Observing precepts is cultivation; not observing precepts is also cultivation.” Xifang Tao smiled charmingly: “What about marriage? Since Master doesn’t observe precepts, have you thought about marriage?” Puzhu’s eyelids drooped slightly, his expression solemn: “Marriage or no marriage—having such thoughts creates attachments, and having attachments prevents devoted cultivation.” Xifang Tao smiled: “That is to say, if Master had such thoughts, you would return to secular life?” Puzhu nodded: “That’s right.” Xifang Tao sighed: “As long as Master remains in Buddhism for one day, you won’t have such thoughts for that day.” Puzhu pressed his palms together: “Amitabha.”
In the long, quiet night, two good friends chatted casually. Though they lacked the earlier joy of chess, there was a different kind of serenity.
The pipa sounds stopped. Shanfeng Hall seemed especially quiet. Tang Lici’s room had no light, but a lamp lit up in another room—that was Yu Furen’s room. He had shut himself in the room for three nights and four days. Shao Yanping daily ordered people to bring food to his room, but Yu Furen closed his eyes and ignored it, having starved for several days. Fortunately, though he didn’t eat, he did drink wine. In these three days he had drunk four or five jars of wine. His alcohol tolerance wasn’t much, so he was dizzy and drowsy all day, pretending he had already drunk himself to death. Shao Yanping had no time to deal with him. Others had said what should be said, but Yu Furen still stayed drunk all day, keeping his door closed.
But after the pipa sounds, he lit the oil lamp and sat up from the bed where he had slept all day, staring blankly at his own hands. His hands were trembling. It took three tries to light the oil lamp. After watching for a while, he reached out to grasp the Qingluo sword on the table. With one grip, Qingluo rattled, the entire sword trembling. With a “clang,” he threw Qingluo away. The famous sword crashed to the floor and slid far away, lying quietly in the darkest shadow under the table. Yu Furen sat blankly by the table for a long time, looking at the neatly arranged but long-cold food on the table. Suddenly he reached out to pick up chopsticks and began eating voraciously at the table.
While eating, hot tears burst from his eyes. He wanted to go look at Tang Lici’s room once, then pull himself together, bring Yu Qifeng back, then leave the martial world forever and never speak of swords again.
Tang Lici lay quietly in the room, embracing the pipa, his fingers still touching the strings. The bedding that had been contaminated by poisonous insects was thrown on the floor, but he had already fallen into deep sleep. Having willfully disturbed others’ rest, after indulging himself he fell asleep, paying no attention to anyone.