Outside the City

Deep winter was approaching, heavy snow falling.

A plain and simple carriage stopped by the side of the official road. Beside it, several black steeds were burying their heads, eating the withered grass covered by accumulated snow.

Heavy snow had fallen for several nights recently. Fortunately, the official road was all gravel and stone, and with many carriages coming and going, the snow was not deep. Only the forest paths on both sides had turned completely white.

“Stay here. No need to see us off.” Ji Yunshu lifted the carriage curtain and spoke to Li Shiyan and Luo Yang standing outside.

“The New Year is almost here. It’s only a few more days. Why not wait until after the New Year to leave?” Li Shiyan’s face was full of reluctance.

Luo Yang chimed in, “That’s right. I’ve finally been promoted to Junior Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices. I was planning to take my salary and treat you to a meal.”

Ji Yunshu smiled gently. “No need. We want to return to Dalin before the year’s end.” As she spoke, she glanced at Jingrong who sat in front driving the carriage.

Li Shiyan sighed, saying sadly, “After parting today, who knows when we’ll meet again.”

“If fate permits… we will surely meet again.”

“I hope so!”

Ji Yunshu thought for a moment and said, “Actually, Miss Zhu is a very good person. Don’t let her down.”

Li Shiyan’s face reddened. Somewhat embarrassed, he averted his gaze and said, “Why are you suddenly bringing her up!”

Luo Yang teased with a laugh, “Look at you getting shy. I can see you’re interested, but Miss Zhu might not be willing.”

Li Shiyan suddenly perked up. “Stop mocking me, kid. You think I don’t know that Qiu Shu has been pestering you this whole time? I’d say you’re the one who’s had a stroke of romantic fortune.”

Luo Yang’s expression instantly changed dramatically, as if he’d seen a ghost. “Don’t mention her in broad daylight—it’s creepy!”

The two began bantering back and forth, quite merrily.

It did add a bit of vitality to the cold winter.

Before leaving, Ji Yunshu took out a tassel ornament. The threads on it were somewhat worn and aged. She handed it to Li Shiyan. “This was given to me by Master Su years ago. Bury it at his grave for me.”

Master Su had died, but Ji Pei lived on.

He lived in her heart.

Li Shiyan accepted it. “I understand.”

“Then take care of yourselves.”

“You too. Take care on your journey.”

Li Shiyan and Luo Yang watched the carriage gradually recede into the distance, feeling an inexplicable emptiness in their hearts.

That feeling—they couldn’t express it, couldn’t explain it clearly.

Li Shiyan exhaled a long breath of cold air, put his arm around Luo Yang’s shoulder, and called out casually, “Come on, let me treat you to a drink!”

“Right on!”

The two mounted their horses and rode off with a crack of their whips.

Snowflakes flew, falling grain by grain like they’d lost their center of gravity into the mountains and forests, dyeing the mountain peaks from top to bottom a solid white.

Ji Yunshu sat on the driver’s bench of the carriage, clasping Jingrong’s arm and resting her head on his sturdy shoulder.

Accompanying him as he drove.

Together watching the snow fill the sky.

Jingrong turned his head to look at her, his gaze warm and gentle. Suddenly he recited, “Two fish frolic joyfully in the water, a single fledgling crawls along forming bonds. The woman of Zhuang dreams, firm as solid rock.”

“Why are you suddenly saying this? You before…” She stopped speaking, raised her head to look at him in shock, her eyes suddenly moistening. For a long while, she couldn’t speak the next word.

Jingrong smiled gently, drew her into his embrace, and called out, “Yunshu.”

She cried like a child, unable to form coherent words.

Three years of searching and waiting had finally proven worthwhile!

—Two fish frolic joyfully in the water, a single fledgling crawls along forming bonds. The woman of Zhuang dreams, firm as solid rock.

These were the words he had personally said to her that year in Jinjiang, on that night when fireworks bloomed all over the sky.

He had remembered!

He had remembered all the little moments between them over these years.

But to this day, no one knew exactly how Jingrong had survived that great fire back then.

Perhaps Heaven had shown a compassionate heart!

…

A year and a half later, Jinjiang.

This small town nestled in Jiangnan remained bustling with traffic like flowing water, fragrant with bird songs and flowers. After tea and meals, people chatted casually about this and that, mostly happy matters.

But it was said that today a major case had emerged at the magistrate’s office. Early in the morning, the courthouse was surrounded so tightly not even water could leak through.

It turned out that last night, a skeleton had been fished out of the dry well behind Cat Alley. County Magistrate Liu Qingping had a terrible headache. After scratching his ears and cheeks all night without sleep, he sat behind the high bench with dark circles under his eyes, squinting as he looked down at the several men and women below.

Perhaps from being too overworked recently, he was actually developing presbyopia!

The clerk bowed over and said softly, “Your Honor, yesterday the coroner examined it. The deceased was male, approximately forty years old, over six feet tall, with a time of death approximately two years ago. These people who’ve come all claim to be relatives of the deceased, waiting to claim the skeleton.”

Liu Qingping rubbed his big oil belly, pondered for a long while, and said, “Troublesome, truly troublesome!”

“Your Honor?”

“This skeleton has neither flesh nor skin. How can this official discern its appearance? How would I know whose relative it is?”

“Then… then what should we do!”

Liu Qingping simply waved his wide sleeves. “All of you go back, go back. Allow this official to think it over carefully!”

A woman said, “Great Master, that skeleton must be my husband who disappeared two years ago. You must uphold justice for this common woman!”

A man said, “That’s my elder brother! Two years ago he said he was going to do business, but once he left he never returned. Great Lord of the Clear Sky, you must find the real murderer for my elder brother!”

The several people in the courthouse began arguing with each other.

Quarreling incessantly.

The common people outside also discussed amongst themselves.

The entire magistrate’s office was like a marketplace.

Liu Qingping’s ears were nearly deafened by the noise. He raised the gavel preparing to strike it down when—

Someone suddenly emerged from the crowd.

The quarreling voices inside and outside the courthouse came to an abrupt halt!

Liu Qingping rubbed his presbyopic eyes, staring intently at the newcomer.

He saw the person below the hall dressed in plain men’s clothing, with a clean and fair countenance. Between the brows was an air of refined elegance untainted by worldly dust. The eyes were lively and spirited. In their arms was a beautifully carved sandalwood box.

Liu Qingping’s mouth opened and closed, emotionally calling out, “Yun… shu?”

Tears immediately welled up in his eyes.

Ji Yunshu’s expression was cool and composed. She raised her eyes and said, “Magistrate Liu, please have that skeleton brought out. I can naturally discern who the deceased is.”

Liu Qingping was stunned for a moment, then raised his voice to order, “Come! Someone! Quickly bring the skeleton to the courthouse.”

How could he have imagined that after so many years, he would see Yunshu again—the one he both loved and feared.

His heart bloomed with joy. He lifted his official robes and descended from the high bench, nearly wanting to rub against Ji Yunshu.

He almost cried!

In a short while, he followed Ji Yunshu’s customary practice and had people prepare a desk and several sheets of paper.

Ji Yunshu opened the sandalwood box in her hands. The box was divided into three layers, complete with paints, brushes, and ink—extremely exquisite.

The crowd watched dumbfounded from the side, not knowing what she intended to do.

They saw her put on gloves, pick up the skull to examine it, then select a small phoenix-hair brush from the sandalwood box and begin drawing on the paper.

Her fingertips held it lightly, stroke by stroke, flowing and precise.

At this time, Jingrong stood among the crowd. He watched Ji Yunshu holding the brush and creating art with admiring eyes, his lips involuntarily curving slightly upward.

He knew—she was still herself.

That Jinjiang artist—Ji Yunshu!

—Until We Meet Again in the Martial World (The End)