Approaching the bustling areas, the The Courier’s Path grew wider. Xu Fengnian and the disfigured woman rested in a small town without city walls, still three days’ journey from the state city.
She wore Xu Fengnian’s scholar robes, slightly loose on her frame. The four scars on her face had begun to scab. A stroke of luck amidst misfortune, to avoid any suspicion, her recovery was synchronized with the death of Zhong Gui, allowing her to apply medicine and slightly hasten the healing. Yet the harsh desert winds, even with a headscarf wrapped tightly, still lashed against her once-delicate face. In the past few days, she often bled and suffered pain that surely rivaled the dagger that had carved her face. She never cried much, and Xu Fengnian never offered comfort. In mutual silence they traveled, though Lu Chen occasionally initiated conversations about martial arts matters. Xu Fengnian answered truthfully, speaking in calm, measured tones, perhaps fearing laughter might bring her more pain.
As they entered the city, the sky darkened abruptly. Clouds blotted out the sun, turning noon into a pitch-black night—the sign of an impending sandstorm. Xu Fengnian had no choice but to enter a humble inn with Lu Chen. The innkeeper seized the opportunity to raise prices exorbitantly. Xu Fengnian had no objection to being overcharged for a few taels of silver, as long as they had shelter. Unexpectedly, Lu Chen stubbornly refused to be taken advantage of, tugging at his sleeve. It seemed her claim of being frugal and thrifty was genuine. Helpless, Xu Fengnian turned to leave under the innkeeper’s disdainful gaze, intending to find a more decent establishment. But before he could cross the threshold, he saw merchants and travelers rushing in from the narrow street. It was clear—if they didn’t stay here, they might have to sleep on the streets, hiding in alleys from the storm. Xu Fengnian smiled at her, and she relented. The innkeeper, petty and spiteful, raised the price even further. Lu Chen trembled with anger, but Xu Fengnian placed a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. He obediently paid the deposit, took the wooden key, and led her to their quarters in the back courtyard.
Lu Chen, her face hidden beneath a headscarf, seemed subdued. Xu Fengnian opened the creaky wooden door, and a musty odor filled the room. After closing the door, he removed his book satchel and Spring and Autumn Sword, placing them aside. On the table was a clay pot—empty when he shook it. Lu Chen sat quietly on the stool, unwrapped her headscarf, turned her head slightly, and avoiding his gaze, asked softly, “With your extraordinary martial prowess, why tolerate these petty townsfolk so meekly? You could scare them witless without even drawing your sword.”
Xu Fengnian, having sealed the drafty windows, sat at the table and smiled. “Do you think a true master must have piercing eyes that shoot icy glares? Or must be built like a tiger or bear, hanging dead beasts from their backs? Or wear every weapon imaginable—swords, spears, staffs—just to make a grand entrance?”
The corners of Lu Chen’s mouth lifted slightly. She caught the teasing tone and felt a little better.
Xu Fengnian bent down, pulling out several martial arts manuals from his satchel and placing them before her. Sitting cross-legged on the stool, he continued leisurely, “I’ve been flipping through these during idle moments and even practicing some of the forms. Turns out it’s quite fun.”
She replied softly, “Show me?”
Xu Fengnian waved her off. “No way. What if the sky collapses?”
Before she could speak, he added gently, “Don’t smile.”
She immediately straightened her expression.
Xu Fengnian picked up the empty clay pot and said, “I’ll fetch some water and food. Wait here.”
Lu Chen nodded, picking up one of the shoddy manuals and flipping through it. Xu Fengnian soon returned with the pot filled with cool water. Lu Chen looked up and asked, “Did you pay again?”
Xu Fengnian chuckled. “No choice. The little demon here charges half a tael for a pot of water. We’ll have to treat it like rare nectar. Oh, and the food will take a bit longer.”
She kept reading, saying, “I can wait.”
Without knocking, an inn servant barged in. Lu Chen hastily grabbed her headscarf and turned away, hurriedly wrapping it. The servant carried a large wooden tray with a few coarse dishes. By accident, he caught a glimpse of Lu Chen’s face and was startled so badly he nearly dropped the tray. He hurriedly set the food down and rushed out, shouting as soon as he crossed the threshold, “Come quick! There’s a hideous monster in there! I’ve seen a ghost in broad daylight!”
Lu Chen tugged at Xu Fengnian’s sleeve, but he merely shook her off and strode out. With one kick, he sent the loose-tongued fool crashing into the courtyard wall, leaving him unconscious—perhaps even dead. Returning inside, Lu Chen murmured, “I really am ugly.”
Xu Fengnian replied calmly, “Yes, you’re not pretty. With those scars, of course you’re not. But anyone who dares to say it aloud—once it reaches my ears, I’ll make sure they—”
She finished for him, “Die?”
Xu Fengnian answered solemnly, “No way. I’m not some evil mastermind. I prefer to subdue people with appearances. Only when that fails do I resort to virtue.”
Lu Chen stared at this scholar whose nature was hard to define—good or bad—pressed her lips together, half-smiling, half-not. “That wasn’t funny at all.”
Xu Fengnian merely smiled, dishing out the bowls and chopsticks before diving into his meal. Lu Chen, covering her face with one hand, ate slowly and gracefully, like a refined lady. When both finished, she hesitated, then said, “Earlier, I thought you’d say something comforting.”
Seeing she still had food left, Xu Fengnian unceremoniously moved her bowl over and continued eating as he replied, “Didn’t you say you hate lies the most? Whether you believe me or not, to me, you’re still that delicate, refined young lady. Not beautiful, but not hideous either.”
Lu Chen asked, “Really?”
Xu Fengnian nodded without looking up, continuing his meal.
The storm raged for half the afternoon before gradually calming. Xu Fengnian opened the window and looked out. The sky had cleared enough to resume their journey. He and Lu Chen left the courtyard. The unfortunate servant had already been carried away, and the inn showed no sign of retaliation. In the streets, Xu Fengnian bought her a wide-brimmed hat and they rode slowly onward. Perhaps sensing the journey’s end was near, Lu Chen became livelier, more willing to ask Xu Fengnian about martial arts tales. She spoke freely, from the legendary tale of the Wu Clan’s nine swords slaying ten thousand riders, with no hint of probing. Both, intentionally or not, let down their guards. Lu Chen was, after all, a naturally spirited woman; otherwise, she wouldn’t have traveled alone with Zhong Gui.
All gatherings must disperse.
Approaching the state city, the The Courier’s Path had widened to rival the main roads of Northern Liang.
Lu Chen gazed at the massive city sprawled like a beast upon the sands, her heart pounding. She bit her lip, entranced. After a long while, she turned to glance behind, hoping for one last sight of that man—just to say goodbye.
But he was already gone.
She smiled, unseen by anyone, turned her horse, and waved goodbye.
Far away, Xu Fengnian watched this from a distance, slowly leaning back until he lay on his back atop his horse, a wild grass stem between his lips.
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