In the quiet courtyard, the occasional sound of unrest from down the mountain drifted in. Inside the room, Hongti had already risen to her feet by the time Ning Yi pushed the door open. Talking things over with the old man in the room, she had hoped Ning Yi, out of basic courtesy, would wait quietly outside until they finished — she hadn’t expected him to simply knock and barge straight in without waiting for an answer. She shot him a glare, then said to Liang Bingfu, “Grandfather Liang, forgive the interruption.”

Liang Bingfu laughed. “Liheng, come, sit.” Ning Yi walked over and took the seat beside Hongti, who turned and walked to the other side of the table, her expression complicated.

Though he’d greeted Ning Yi warmly enough, the old man now looked from Ning Yi to Hongti and back again, seemingly unsure what to say next. Ning Yi sat with modest, respectful posture, was quiet for a moment, then turned to Liang Bingfu and got straight to the point.

“Whatever else, Grandfather Liang — this business of Hongti and me being master and disciple was only ever a joke. We both know that ourselves, and that’s all that really matters.”

In the society of the time, the principles of ethical hierarchy and proper relations still carried tremendous weight, and even setting aside the fact that Liang Bingfu was a Confucian scholar, even the mountain folk here held firmly to the three bonds and five constants. But of course, not everyone was entirely incapable of flexibility. What weighed on Liang Bingfu’s mind was that the two of them had, in fact, once had a genuine teacher-student relationship — though the true nature of that relationship, when it came down to it, was a somewhat delicate matter. Since Ning Yi had opened by settling the question outright himself, the old man nodded with a smile, treating it as a settled matter, and spoke on slowly.

“Of course that’s how it is. In any case, we can’t let that Sect Leader Lin dictate the terms of anything. It’s just that rumor and slander, repeated enough, can grind down even bone — many great figures haven’t been able to escape that kind of danger. Liheng, you’d best be mentally prepared for it.”

“That’s exactly what I came to speak with you about, Grandfather Liang.” Ning Yi glanced at Hongti. “I won’t hide it from you — when it comes to rumors, there’s no one who understands them better than I do. And just as you said, we can’t let that Lin Echan dictate the narrative. To be honest, if he wants to spread rumors, it might cause me some inconvenience, but not much — among the people who are genuinely willing to hear my side of things, this whole master-and-disciple claim won’t hold up at all. There was no ceremony, no witness of any standing — if he claims someone overheard Hongti say it, who exactly can he produce to testify to that? And as for the people who aren’t willing to listen to any explanation at all — rumors don’t need explaining to those people; the more you explain, the worse it gets.”

Liang Bingfu nodded. “Then… there will always be people unwilling to listen to reason. What will you do about them, Liheng?”

“Chasing shadows is still just chasing shadows. It’s a bit like if someone suddenly jumped up and claimed the sitting Chancellor and his wife were actually master and disciple — what would come of that?” Ning Yi laughed. “Of course, spreading rumors effectively takes some skill. Suppose Lin Zongwu really did try to stir up this kind of talk — we’re not afraid of him on that front. First, I’m nowhere near as famous as he is. Second, the Great Radiance Cult’s reach in terms of public opinion actually isn’t as strong as mine. I currently have over seventy storytellers working under me.”

“Hm?” Liang Bingfu frowned.

“And going forward, the Bamboo Registry is only going to keep expanding — that number will keep growing. At least around the capital, the Bamboo Registry’s caravans visit a town or village every day, and there are always plenty of people who come to listen to the storytelling. In the coming months, people will start talking about rankings of the great masters of the martial world, along with some of the old stories… I’ve told Hongti some of these before. If I give the word, within half a month, everyone within several hundred li of the capital will know all about how the Great Radiance Cult’s leader, Lin Zongwu, supposedly violates a sow every single day.”

At this, Hongti let out a small laugh beside him — a quick “pfft” — but quickly composed herself again, still keeping her guard up around Ning Yi. Liang Bingfu, considering all this, grew interested in the Bamboo Registry’s operations and asked a few more questions. Ning Yi explained the whole structure in detail, particularly the parts concerning gathering crowds and shaping public opinion.

“…Given enough time, I could put out just about any rumor I wanted, honestly. And even if Lin Zongwu tries to smear me, the average commoner has no idea who ‘Ning Yi’ even is — whereas I can expose his entire background completely… Of course, before things come to an outright break, I’d rather not resort to petty rumor-mongering like that. For a master at his level, it’s either strike to kill in one decisive blow, or don’t move rashly at all. And of course, to actually kill men like that, I’d need Hongti’s help too…”

He glanced at Hongti and sighed. “You got hurt this badly today, and came straight here to talk to Grandfather Liang despite it — I know what’s weighing on your mind. I’ve said everything that needs saying now, right in front of Grandfather Liang. Whatever you’re still turning over in your head, I’ve laid it all out clearly for you. So go get some rest, all right?”

Liang Bingfu, leaning on his cane, watched her as well. Hongti blinked, her gaze still rather complicated. When Ning Yi reached for her hand, she stepped back, avoiding him.

“I know your temperament. I know your abilities. And I also know… you’re always very good with words. I still haven’t worked this through in my own mind. I just keep feeling like…”

In the end, this touched on the very foundation of Ning Yi’s standing, and Hongti understood the weight of that well enough. She hesitated, and Ning Yi, already frowning, stood up. “Thinking about what, exactly…” He crossed the distance in two steps and reached out to take her hand. Hongti tried to pull back, but with Liang Bingfu right there in the room, she couldn’t very well turn and bolt, and in the end Ning Yi caught hold of her bandaged left arm. The pain made her wince slightly.

“So it does hurt.” Ning Yi reached out and poked her bandage twice with a finger. With Liang Bingfu right there, Hongti was mortified beyond words. Ning Yi simply pulled her along. “Well then… Grandfather Liang, I’ll take her to rest for now. Whatever else needs discussing, I’ll go over it with her myself. If you need anything, just call for me.”

Liang Bingfu smiled, nodding repeatedly, and walked the two of them to the door before adding, “Now, don’t you go bullying her.”

Grinning, Ning Yi pulled Hongti all the way back to their room, and once they’d stepped over the threshold, he kicked the door shut behind them. Then he turned, slid one arm beneath the bend of her knees, and swept her up into his arms. Caught off guard by this sudden princess-carry, Hongti struggled a little, her expression flustered, but in Ning Yi’s presence she still didn’t bring her martial skill to bear. “Liheng… you, you… you can’t…”

“Relax, I’m just putting you down to rest.” At these words, Hongti settled somewhat — only to hear him add, “Though, about that lie you told me yesterday — have you forgotten what you promised me?”

“I didn’t lie to you…”

As she spoke, Ning Yi laid her down on the bed and reached for the ties of her long skirt. Sensing that Ning Yi seemed intent on removing her skirt, Hongti instinctively reached out to stop him — and then, with a crack, Ning Yi’s palm landed squarely on the most bashful part of her backside. In the past few days, as they’d embraced and kissed, his hands had naturally brushed against her hips, her chest, and the like — but that had been the intimacy between lovers. Now, with the strict proprieties of the age still weighing on her, and the notion of “master” still circling somewhere in her mind, this bold move of Ning Yi’s made her body suddenly draw inward, leaving her thoroughly dazed.

The woman on the bed was tall to begin with, and lying there now with her skirt trailing over her legs, her figure looked all the more slender and long. As she turned her body over, Ning Yi leaned down over her, their faces close, until he was nearly pressing against her — yet, in the end, he stopped himself. Hongti felt his gaze traveling over her, from her cheeks, down her neck, to the swell of her chest below. But his expression was complicated, not the least bit lascivious — if anything, it looked almost troubled.

“All right, then…” he said softly. “Since you won’t let me undress you today, well, we’ll be married soon enough — I’ll have my chance to make up for it then.”

“You… I…”

Hongti’s lips parted, then stopped. Ning Yi lowered his head and closed his eyes. “You know… it’s fine if there’s something on your mind. It’s fine to think it over more. Just don’t go running off on your own, and don’t go rushing off in some sudden fit to trade a grave wound for Lin Zongwu’s life. You know… I worry about you too.”

“I…” Hongti wanted to reach out and hold him, but in the end her hands only lifted slightly, and she murmured her protest in a very quiet voice. “I wasn’t going to…”

“Heh.” Ning Yi was silent for a long moment, then opened his eyes and smiled. He pulled a thin blanket over from the side and covered Hongti with it, then settled himself beside her, leaning back. Hongti lay there beneath the covers, her thoughts still somewhat unsettled. Ning Yi took hold of one of her hands; the lamplight flickered in the room, and in their silence, the space grew quiet and still.

“Actually, I think,” Ning Yi said quietly after a while, “that as long as something can be said out loud, in this world, it’s never really that big a deal. But if you don’t tell me, if you keep it locked away inside — some things, I just won’t know what to do about. That’s why I worry, too — worry that one day you’ll feel like you can’t work through something, and suddenly run off, or go rushing at Lin Echan ready to trade your life for his.”

“…I can’t out-argue you.” Hongti squeezed his palm gently, her voice soft.

“So just listen to me, then. I think what I’ve said really does hold up pretty well.” Ning Yi smiled. “I came to Lüliang for you — not for anyone else. Coming to find you, marrying you, and setting Lüliang a little more in order along the way, making you happy — all of that comes after. As long as you’re here, everything else follows. If I lost you, why would I have any reason to come to Lüliang at all? I want the world to be a little better, sure, but at heart, I can be a very cold person. Even doing something a little wrong, I can live with it just fine — strangers dying by the thousands, and I could still eat my dinner just fine… It all comes down to the same thing I’ve told you before: whatever it is that makes you happy, tell me, and I’ll go get it, tie a bow around it, and bring it right to you. That’s all that matters.”

He opened her palm gently, then closed his hand around it softly. The lamplight in the room stayed calm and steady, broken only occasionally by some faint sound. Hongti turned onto her side, letting her gaze settle into the shadows.

“I know you’re worrying over this master-and-disciple business for my sake. But I know what matters more than that. It’s fine if you think it over in your own mind — but if, for my sake, you ran off, or went into hiding, that would be exactly what Lin Zongwu wanted, and everything I’ve done would end up meaning nothing. It’s like this — when two grandmasters cross blades, deciding a winner can take a long time, or it can happen fast. Tonight, when I felt things were about to turn fast, I really was very worried.”

Hongti drew in a breath, and murmured softly from the shadows, “I just wanted… when we get married, let’s not make a big fuss about it…”

“…Fine, we’ll keep it small.” Ning Yi paused, then smiled faintly. “One meal, invite just the people nearby. If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. After all… it’s the two of us getting married — just the people we know, gathering together. Actually, I did tell you before, didn’t I… I actually like this whole idea of you being my master.”

“I don’t want to be your master.”

“Back when I first came to you to learn martial arts, I kowtowed to you three times — I was bowing to your skill. And like you said, I’ve taught you things too, in turn. You’re my master, and you’re not. As though carved, as though polished — both teacher and friend… I suppose the word for that is ‘partner’…”

Hongti repeated the phrase softly under her breath — as though carved, as though polished. Their fingers interlaced, held together. Ning Yi said, “You got hurt today — you’re still not sleeping?”

Hongti said, “About to…”

“Remember the story I told you back in Jiangning? About the martial world.”

“Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils.”

“Let me tell you another one… one with a master and disciple in it too, since we’re on the subject. But you need to fall asleep soon — we can take it slow…”

Hongti squeezed his hand.

“This story begins on a dark and windy night… I’m not sure why it’s always a dark and windy night, but every story has to start with one somewhere… Our hero…”

The candlelight flickered and danced, the story unfolding like a soft whisper, warm and peaceful. In the room, the story had only just begun when Hongti drifted quietly off to sleep. Ning Yi sat at the bedside, holding her hand, watching the outline of her sleeping profile. Whatever her martial skill, however fierce she might appear to the outside world, within this body there remained, always, a single, singular soul.

Just gazing at that sleeping profile, Ning Yi could read so much in it. He knew she had gone hungry, weathered bitter winds, faced death again and again — walking the line between life and death, tempered by blade and spear, worn down by hardship and grief, watching those she loved die, clawing her way, time after time, out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Over these more than twenty years, what this woman had lived through and witnessed was the cruelest world Ning Yi could ever hope to know — sometimes he even saw traces of Fu Duanyun in her. And yet, it was only in this cruelest of worlds that a sleeping face this warm, this achingly dear, could ever have come into being…

There was nothing more precious than a beautiful soul…

He sat at the bedside, watching her quietly, until the candle burned all the way down, faint starlight beginning to seep in through the window, letting him make out the outline of the sleeping woman’s form. As the night deepened and the commotion down the mountain grew louder still, he finally leaned down, embraced her, kissed her forehead, and rose to leave the room.

The sound of clamor was drawing closer — the fighting had, it seemed, mostly ended, and people were beginning to make their way back up the mountain. Ning Yi stepped outside and looked at the torchlight spreading below. Throughout the mountains, high and low, everyone seemed to be following this great battle, lamplight scattered here and there among the houses in the valley. Yet at first glance, the returning ranks down in the valley below looked loose and disordered, impossible to make out clearly — minor leaders ran about amid furious shouting, and it seemed many men had become separated from their units, lost. In the distance, the third chief, Cao Qianyong, appeared to be cursing up a storm as well — everything about it seemed strangely uncertain.

So had they won, or had they lost… Since neither outcome seemed to fit what he was seeing, Ning Yi found himself, for a moment, caught in a knot of uncertainty…