Victory had long become mundane, but the day of seeing her again never came.
The wind is gentle, the water clear and still, along the long corridor, a solitary shadow stands in silence!
Old man, blood doesn’t dictate fate. Is my destiny fortunate? Or unfortunate?
Old man, even after many years, I can still see you standing by the door, smiling and asking: Have you fallen in love with this woman?
Ruowen’s External Story Two: Sword, Saber, and Spear
There’s a kind of fate that’s always bumpy,
A kind of journey that’s always winding.
There’s a kind of man who’s never lonely,
A kind of woman who never falls.
There’s a kind of ballad that always sings of “what if,”
What if…
In barren lands that could hardly become fertile regions, bandits were most numerous in the northern desert. What did bandits do? They burned, killed, raped, and plundered without reason. Even if they weren’t hungry, even if you had nothing left, as long as you didn’t belong to them, you were either prey or enemy.
Huang Beishuang didn’t understand these strange life trajectories before, at least not so profoundly. Now, whenever the stormy season came, her mind would inexplicably drift to a past she shouldn’t recall. It seemed that long ago, she had also sneered inwardly that in this life, two men had touched her body – one loved her deeply, one hated her deeply; one respected her greatly, and one feared her greatly.
The palace gate behind Bingci Palace quietly opened. The dust on the stone pillars by the gate swirled with the wind. As it settled, Ye Pei lit a torch to light the way. Thirteen people silently accompanied her, gradually moving away in the heavy twilight clouds.
“Na Xiu, someone’s there!” After walking for some time, Ye Pei suddenly called out softly.
Hearing this, Huang Beishuang smiled, lowered her fluffy cape, and looked directly at the figure standing ahead.
“I knew you would come!” She walked forward gently.
The figure turned slightly, a pair of deep blue eyes meeting hers – it was Ge Xinwei.
“Huang Beishuang!” She called her name directly, then turned back, staring blankly at the unmarked grave standing between them.
“You came to pay respects to him?” After a while, Ge Xinwei asked calmly.
Huang Beishuang paused before replying, “No, I came to reflect.”
Ge Xinwei responded with two scornful laughs, “You no longer feel pain, what’s there to reflect on?” As she spoke, she brushed away the hair on her forehead that had been messed up by the wind. Her eyes were suddenly filled with sorrow, but she still smiled and said, “Huang Beishuang, you’ve already had a brilliant life, what unresolved pain could you have? At the very least, you’ve never experienced pain like mine… Do you know? I envy you, very much.”
She said she envied her, but it was no longer because she had once been her substitute. As the sunset glow gradually faded, their similar faces suddenly looked different in the transition from bright to dark. This was Ruowen’s unmarked grave, and they had come independently to reflect on their pain. However, some things had long been etched into their souls with memory, no longer related to hurt or pain.
It wasn’t until the sky had completely darkened and the sunset glow had been replaced by moonlight that Ge Xinwei got up to leave. Looking back, she saw Huang Beishuang still standing by the grave, lost in thought. Ge Xinwei stared at her for a while, then suddenly blurted out, “My son will make Ruowen’s name live again!”
She spoke with some excitement, her voice carrying a hint of uncontrollable obsession and unwillingness. She didn’t know why she said such words. Perhaps she just wanted to disturb her at that moment! But she was wrong again. Huang Beishuang remained standing there, facing the wind from the grave, taking out a jade flute from her bosom and slowly beginning to play. The wind blew, her cape fluttering as if moved by something, beating against her body like an embrace or a caress, while her gaze remained distant.
The sound of the flute traversed wind and sand, drifting to the past.
Ge Xinwei closed her eyes briefly and finally left…
If they had never met—
Huang Beishuang gazed at the unmarked grave before her, her thoughts drifting. If they had never met, would her life have been without Qingyun, Guan Ying, Fuping, and more importantly, without the sword, spear, and saber?
Ruowen was born in a chaotic scene, surrounded by gold, silver, jewels, and fine wine. These things were strewn about in disarray, with men coming and going in search of pleasure. It wasn’t until a piercing cry broke through the intoxicated clamor of the night that people looked up. In a corner, they saw a pale-faced woman covered in blood, staring blankly at the newborn child at her feet. After a moment, she heartlessly kicked the child away. The woman curled up, muttering brokenly, “Why? Purple eyes…”
Why purple eyes?
This question alone determined that Ruowen would not receive his mother’s love from birth.
Ruowen’s mother was named Rujun, from the slave nation of Tieji, known for sword-making. On Rujun’s nineteenth birthday, she was chosen as the priestess for the hunting festival. Wearing pure white official robes, she stood on the sacred platform, sincerely praying to the gods. But in the midst of this, she encountered an unexpected change in fortune. The response to her prayers was nearly two thousand bandit horsemen slaughtering the “singing to heaven, forging swords to serve the gods” Tieji in one night. Only young maidens survived in the tribe, either sold and traded elsewhere or unable to bear the humiliation under others, dying, scattering, and withering in the wind and rain. Rujun was one of them. Because of her rare beauty, the bandits were reluctant to kill her and kept her in the camp for their pleasure at any time. Rujun didn’t know how many men she had served, living worse than a prostitute for ten years. She had attempted suicide many times but never succeeded. Each of her attempts only provided extra entertainment for the bandits. The moment Rujun gave birth to her first child, she only saw a pair of purple eyes, undoubtedly the bloodline of the leader. It seemed to once again confirm everything she had endured. She felt she was dirty inside and out, so dirty that she had given birth to a demon, an evil spirit!
By the time Ruowen was seven, he had never touched even a finger or a piece of his mother’s clothing. When he was ten, his half-sister Qingchun was eight. As a child, Ruowen could not fight in the arena or participate in robberies. He could only collect leftover food from bowls and plates after others had eaten their fill. His sister Qingchun always hid to the side, thin and sallow, her purple-black eyes staring at him unblinkingly.
“What are you looking at!” The young Ruowen would always shout at her, while Qingchun, often so hungry that her eyes were sunken, would still lick her lips and stare at him longingly. Ruowen felt uncomfortable when she stared at him for too long, unable to sleep all night, feeling worse than being hungry. Without realizing it, he began to share food with Qingchun every other day. Qingchun survived and didn’t starve to death. Thank heaven, they both had healthy bodies and didn’t encounter serious illness or plague.
Ruowen’s father was the leader, commanding two thousand followers, and holding the northern desert. His name was Hou. Hou liked beautiful women, basically calling a different woman to accompany him every night. But even for someone as beautiful as Rujun, Hou only lingered for one night. Many years passed, and Hou turned forty-eight, his temples beginning to turn yellow and white. When he sat in the great chair of the arena hall, watching the youth who had won two consecutive victories in the arena, turning to face the crowd with purple eyes identical to his own, Hou was momentarily dazed as if in a dream.
“What’s your name?” Hou couldn’t help but ask.
“Ruowen,” Ruowen answered expressionlessly, then kicked away the defeated opponent at his feet, leaped down from the arena, walked to his front, and calmly picked up two bags of dried food.
Hou suddenly reached out to press down on the cloth bags, his bloodshot eyes staring at him heavily.
Ruowen raised an eyebrow, “I won, this is what I deserve!”
Hou smiled, “How old are you?”