The Grandmaster Strategist

Side Story: Chanting Sutras

Author: Jialan [Garland]

Smoke curled upwards into the air. Behind a bamboo screen, a jug of wine was warming. A bamboo flute lay there.

Opposite the screen, a white-clothed youth was kneeling, sitting upright, and unfolding a scroll he just removed from the leg of a pigeon. “Master, Third Apprentice Brother reports that the Sect Master of the Fengyi Sect was surrounded by the Eighteen Arhats of Shaolin and died in battle.”

“Understood.” Seemingly disinterested, the man behind the screen gave a single word in acknowledgement and raised the wine jug. “You all … can withdraw.”

Amid the numerous footsteps, nobody heard the quiet sound of wine splashing onto the table nor the sharp and sudden shattering of the wine jug.

Noiselessly, the man raised a hand, swiveled his wrist, and poured out the full cup of dark fine wine onto the ground. Afterwards, the porcelain cup as clear and lustrous as white jade arced through the air and out of the window, disappearing silently.

She had died, after all.

Flicking a sleeve, he opened the room door to a wailing north wind, the blowing snow filling his vision fluttering freely like pear blossoms.

Huiyao … Huiyao. I can’t avenge you!

Moonlight cast deep shadows all around, a gale whirling.

Horseshoes clopped on the ground at a steady pace. A man in blue robes leisurely looked around at the wild grass and flowers growing on the mountain road. Abruptly, he softly furrowed his brows. He sensed deadly intent.

The blue-robed man slapped the saddle, and he vaulted into the air like a stream of light. After only ten galloping steps, he saw a small palanquin moving slowly in front of him on the narrow mountain road. All around in the deep woods, long grass swayed. The blue-robed man furrowed his brows and was about to shout when a whistling arrow shot past his head out of nowhere. Dozens of broadswords bright as snow flashed and surrounded the palanquin from every direction. Before the mountain bandits could shout two words: “rob them,” two of the palanquin bearers were already so scared they knelt on the ground clutching their heads, desperately wishing they could dig a hole and dive into the soil.

With a glint of light, the curtain of the palanquin was sliced open by a broadsword. The mountain bandits’ greedy gazes immediately turned feverish.

“What beautiful women!”

“Brothers, we’re rich…”

In the simple bamboo palanquin, a young woman around seventeen tried her hardest to curl up into a ball, cheeks already drained of color. The mountain bandits had swarmed over in a jumbled mess, the closest one nearly touching the girl’s lapel. Everything stopped all at once, after which reverberated a prolonged shriek.

Before the screaming stopped, the blue-robed man walked around with saber drawn outside the small palanquin, a continuous flurry of strikes landing as he circled the palanquin. With every gleam of his blade, a mountain bandit fell. In just a moment, dozens of men collapsed on the mountain road at sixes and sevens. And the shriek of the first person still echoed nonstop through the woods. The blue-robed man handily returned his two-handed saber to its sheath and smoothed the hem of his topcoat. Only then did he calmly turn around.

“Miss, no need to be afraid—”

“Who told you to interfere!” Though the young woman’s limpid eyes displayed anger, radiance also circulated within them. The blue-robed young man was dumbstruck by the blazing gaze, and a white figure shimmered before his eyes. He then saw the young woman standing prettily on the mountain road.

“How did I interfere?” Looking at her pretty face that made it impossible to get angry at, the blue-robed man’s tone contained humor.

“Still saying you didn’t interfere! I had planned it perfectly. After they kidnapped me, they would definitely offer me up to the bandit chief. I would be riding a palanquin up the mountain for free and defeat the bandits by capturing their chief. But you’ve gone and killed them all, great job! Tell me, how will you pay up!”

This counted as interfering? The blue-robed man was tongue-tied. Right as he was about to rebuke her, he glimpsed the corners of her mouth barely curve up, the corners of her eyes slightly curl upward, and a teasing look in her beautiful eyes all flash by. For whatever reason, laughter abruptly rushed freely up from the bottom of his heart. The two strangers, both looking at each other, simultaneously began laughing hard.

During the long bout of laughter, the man prostrated and said in a loud voice, “This one was reckless. I will now go to execute all these mountain bandits to make amends to the miss!” Then, without rising, he gently jumped backward onto the treetops and disappeared into the distance in the blink of an eye.

“Hey! You … you!” The young woman was too late to shout. Stamping her feet, she said to the palanquin bearers trembling in the fetal position, “Carry the palanquin away. This lady isn’t riding it anymore.” She floated up to the trees and hastily pursued. That man’s qinggong was much better than she expected. No matter how hard she tried to catch up to him, she still only watched his dark figure grow ever distant. The young woman only made it halfway up the mountain when the mountain currents carried over sporadic screams and the scent of blood.

Whistling wind flapping her clothes, the young woman raised her speed to the maximum, small drops of sweat beading on her forehead as she entered the mountain stronghold. The slaughter had clearly ended already. Amid the pools of blood all over the ground, the blue-robed man was sheathing his saber. Hearing her footsteps, he turned around and nodded imperceptibly to her.

This was the very first meeting between the legendary couple. She knew he was named Jing Wuji, and he knew she had a beautiful name, Fan Huiyao. That was all.

In other words, it was like wind brushing the surface of water, quiet and leaving no trace.

Years passed.

From a typical disciple of the Devil Sect, he became the appointed heir of the sovereign of the Scorching Sun Branch of the Devil Sect. And reports of the storm clouds rolling through the wulin of the Central Plains were delivered to his desk daily. As such, he knew that after disappearing without a trace four years ago, she was a new star gradually rising through the wulin of the Central Plains. She swept away all obstacles with one swipe of her sword. As a result, he knew she had become the young sect master of the Fengyi Sect. A previously unnoticed, minor sect grew with brilliance in her hands. Thus, he knew she was always surrounded by countless admirers, but she vowed never to marry. Therefore, he knew her martial arts had become the best of the best in jianghu and that she’d become a heroine revered by all. He even knew which days she’d received new scars, which days she’d fallen ill in an inn, the inn desolate, and she had no one to rely on.

Information about her became denser with each passing month. His master, then the sovereign of the Devil Sect, happened to point out an intelligence report and said with a smile, “Wuji, I’m afraid this woman will become your greatest opponent in the future.” Jing Wuji had silently nodded, but the image of a bright-eyed young woman pouting playfully and smiling sweetly flashed through his mind.

But it was just a momentary thought.

Up until that day.

He was wandering around the Central Plains. With the rustling of wings, a messenger pigeon flew into his inn. In an instant, a disciple quietly pushed open the door to the room and knelt on one knee. “Reporting in, Young Sovereign, Fan Huiyao is going to marry the young bandit chief of the Black Mountain Stronghold. The wedding invitations have already been sent out, inviting guests from the four corners.”

She’s getting married? Counting on his fingers, Jing Wuji was dumbfounded. It had been eight years since they first met. She was now around twenty-five years of age and should have married long ago. I have nothing to do anyway, so why not visit an old friend?

Wearing black clothes and bringing a modest gift, Jing Wuji entered the Black Mountain Stronghold, whereupon he became unusually relaxed and cheerful. The entire mountain was decorated with lanterns and colorful banners, the entire location noisy with laughter and chatter. Standing there, his mood unconsciously lifted. It looks like the Black Mountain Stronghold values their bride. She should have a good life, thought Jing Wuji about this matter unrelated to him.

When the bride was walking down the red carpet, Jing Wuji furtively clutched the two-handed saber at his side. Something was odd.

The red veil covered the woman’s face, shrouding her expression. She had proper posture and a dignified gait. Her current martial arts were incomparable to the realm she was in eight years ago. With the support of the matron of honor, each step she took moved farther along to the point of no return. It could happen at any moment. Jing Wuji even smelled a blend of blood and blades.

As a result, only Jing Wuji felt somewhat expectant when the hall full of visitors was shocked as they watched a sword glint bright as snow. The bridegroom of the marriage, the young bandit chief of the Black Mountain Stronghold, shrieked, and blood and diced guts swirled everywhere.

In the wedding hall, scarlet silk garments tore and flew through the air like blood-soaked butterflies. Among the guests frantically retreating like the low tide, Jing Wuji stood motionless and silently watched Fan Huiyao wield her sword in an alabaster hand and come to a standstill in the hall. Amid the pressure and glints of the sword, white clothes as austere as frost and snow appeared to combust with a rustling sound.

She was nothing like his memory from eight years ago, no longer the adorable and radiant young woman with a mischievous streak, but she looked exactly like the way he pictured her in his mind’s eye daily for eight years. She was as beautiful and eye-catching as a red phoenix bathing in fire, as awe-inspiring and unsullied as plum trees blossoming in the dead of winter.

She sternly looked back while in pools of blood, her gaze sweeping over Jing Wuji and not stopping in the slightest. As if she didn’t recognize him.

A moment later, the many experts of the Black Mountain Stronghold howled with anger and charged forth, drowning the woman in snow-white clothes in an instant.

Jing Wuji dashed over, watching with a detached eye as the underlings of the Black Mountain Stockade surrounded Fan Huiyao. Hm … quite a few members of the Black Mountain Stronghold came today. All forty-eight protectors and a hundred eight members of the discipline team are all here. Coupled with the steady flow of gang leaders flooding in, there’s probably at least five or six hundred…. A shame. Jing Wuji watched an azure light explode in the mob and laughed scornfully. With this style of martial arts, they were simply delivering themselves to be a portion of Fan Huiyao’s kills.

It was just that it would be a little troublesome to deal with, as there were too many people. Merely the blades hacking from every direction could give one an awful headache.

Nobody saw him make a move when he gently soared up, seemingly without effort, and noiselessly landed on a crossbeam, after which he stomped his feet. An enormous force swept across, and the people with worse martial arts couldn’t but reel. Watching Fan Huiyao seize the opportunity to rush out, her sword whirling to and fro, Jing Wuji smiled a satisfied grin. He lay on his side on the beam, moderated his breathing, and gazed down from on high.

Apart for eight years, that girl’s martial arts had truly advanced by leaps and bounds. Watching her flit through the crowds, not only was her qinggong quite astonishing, it could also be described as graceful and lithe. Even more impressive was her swordsmanship, filling the air with azure glints of her sword. Her swift sword seemed to surpass the limits of the human body, each gentle contact causing a bloody rainbow to spurt out, life and blood both gushing out.

This was a painting inked with blood, and the beautiful woman in snow white moving among them was the most vivid color of them all. For some reason, the figure cruelly killing with grace and magnificence made him happen to think of a line from an ancient poem: Myriad mountains, sword strikes, lonely snow.

That loneliness that drilled bone deep…

Jing Wuji slightly furrowed his brows. It should not be this way. Everyone knew the best choice was to break out. Why did she still want to get entangled here?

Below him, Fan Huiyao was truly mired in a bitter struggle. She had not yet found major success in her Gale-Wind Sword Style, and her internal energy gradually stopped sustaining her sword attacks that were fast as lightning. Upon a momentary slowdown of her movements, her back scorched with bone-searing pain, two more wounds added. However, she was indomitably resilient, and with two swift slashes backward, her enemies behind her screamed and collapsed. She flourished a graceful arc before her body with the return of her long sword, guarding herself as she charged out of the encirclement.

Putting in enough effort to listen closely, she heard a soft whistle in the distance, followed by an eruption of noise. A gruff voice bellowed, “That old hag got away! Capture this one for me!” Fan Huiyao was relieved. Her master had been rescued, and now it was time for her to break out.

Upon breathing a sigh of relief, she finally felt the additional bone-deep wounds on her body. Having killed all this time, she could no longer keep count of her injuries and felt her body grow colder. A shadow also blanketed her vision. She almost lost her grasp on her long sword but for her astonishing willpower. She clenched her teeth and forced a draft of pure energy into circulation and slowly straightened her back.

Blood had soaked through her white jacket, and she was teetering on the verge of collapsing. However, everyone who caught her unusually harsh gaze couldn’t help but take a couple steps back.

It would be a terrible shame for someone like her to die here. Gazing from above at her straight posture, Jing Wuji made a split-second decision and threw his voice. “I’ll create a path for you! Run!” He then flourished the two-handed saber in his hands to create thousands of woodchips and circulated his internal energy and hurled them down.

At present, Jing Wuji’s martial arts allowed him to aim to be the best youthful expert in the world. Attacking with his full strength would be no ordinary affair. Nobody in the wedding hall, all the way up to the entrance, could stay standing. Jing Wuji roared, “Go!”

Fan Huiyao groaned and slowly woke up. She was in such pain she felt like her body was tearing apart.

She lay in darkness and silently recalled, I remember I was battling in the Black Mountain Stronghold and got assistance from someone. My body and sword become one to break out of the tight encirclement. Afterwards, she forced herself to sprint on the mountain road while seriously injured. She only managed to tap a few of her acupoints to staunch the bleeding, but it was far from enough. After that…

She took a deep breath. Her internal energy was circulating as normal, and there were no restraints on her body. She was swaddled in warm, soft, and thick bedding, and she smelled the faint aroma of medicine. Collecting herself, she heard girls outside whispering.

“The lady in there is quite pretty! The young master doesn’t like her, right?”

“Who knows! He carried her all the way back himself, even holding her hand the entire time. He couldn’t even bear to leave her when her wounds were being dressed!”

“Nonsense! Young master was using his internal energy to extend her life. I heard that lady’s injuries were grave! Oh, young master!”

The door to the room was pushed open with a creak, and a man ambled in. He examined her face, then said with a smile, “You awakened.” He had a rich and deep voice, somewhat familiar to her.

“Many thanks for the rescue, my savior. May I be so bold as to ask for my savior’s full name?” Fan Huiyao expressed gratitude while struggling to stand up.

The man stopped her. “Keep still. Your injuries are grave. You have thirty-seven injuries, major and minor, all over your body. You were in a coma for three full days.” He paused, then said, “You didn’t remember me, as expected.”

She had met this man before? She bit her lip and thought hard, but she simply couldn’t remember him. Meanwhile, the man had walked to the door and said, looking back at her, “Please convalesce. Worry not. Nobody can move against you here.”

An image flashed in her mind, and she cried out, “It’s you! You are … you are Jing Wuji!” The man who calmly looked back while on ground covered in blood; the man who was three parts frosty, three parts decisive, three parts arrogant, and one part tender; the man she’d only met once, the first youthful expert she’d encountered when starting out … was him! It was him!

Because she bumped into him, she learned her martial arts were nowhere near adequate for her to traverse jianghu. She returned to her sect and underwent intense secluded cultivation. In addition, their chance meeting led to her obtaining an incomplete copy of the Moon Heart Sutra. It was this man who let her recognize for the first time the cruelty of jianghu. Now, it was he who rescued her again. Fan Huiyao blankly stared at his tall back, instantly overcome with every emotion.

“In the Black Mountain Stronghold, it was also you…”

“Correct.”

“Why?”

“It’d be a crying shame if a person like you died.” He was pensive for a bit, then finally said, “I received news that your master has already been rescued. In your battle, the majority of the Black Mountain Stronghold’s forty-eight protectors had died, and over forty percent of the hundred eight members of the discipline team had died. Right now, jianghu is in tumult. The Black Mountain Stronghold is conducting a large-scale search for your trail.” He slowly asked, “What would you like to do?”

What I should do? Fan Huiyao curled the corners of her lips into a sneer. “I swear I’m not human if I don’t get revenge!”

For the next three months, Jing Wuji peacefully watched this woman blossom with astonishing radiance.

She only spent seven days by his side recovering from her wounds. Once she could move, she spread the news. Within three months, this woman continuously hurried through various regions, inviting independent warlords in the world into an alliance to crush the Black Mountain Stronghold. Taking advantage of the Black Mountain Stronghold’s heavy suffering, the various despots attacked when the stronghold was down. Under the central control of Fan Huiyao, the once illustrious Black Mountain Stronghold became a fleeting cloud at the flip of a hand.

He once said to her, “If you would like, I would annihilate this stronghold for you.” His tone was as gentle as the wind on a calm day, just as when he told her he would execute all the mountain bandits.

Fan Huiyao gave him a brief smile. “No need.” She left something unspoken: I already made you rescue me once. If I rely on you again this time, how would I be qualified … to stand beside you?

While the Black Mountain Stronghold was crumbling, Jing Wuji wasn’t by Fan Huiyao’s side. He merely mailed a short letter: “On a nice night like this, with a fresh breeze and a bright moon, not being able to share a cup of wine with you on this quiet night is quite regretful.” He had his own affairs to tend to. Since Fan Huiyao hadn’t said anything, he had no need to run to and fro with her every day. As for the multitudes of “young heroes” and “close friends” she could normally rally to action, he couldn’t even deign to look down his nose at them.

For the next several years, the two of them went their own ways, only sporadically meeting up. They were fortunate the sovereign of the Devil Sect’s intelligence network was developed to the extreme; they could receive the other’s letters a few times every month. “It looks like snow tonight. Warming up by the furnace and drinking a cup of wine is sincerely the happiest moment in one’s life! A pity I cannot share it with you.” A small jug of sweet-smelling and mellow pear blossom baijiu was also sent.

“Meetings few, partings many, such is life! Last night, the plum trees in front of my window blossomed for the first time this winter. I sent you a fleeting token of spring.” A faint aroma of plum perfume seemed to drift up from the letter, lasting without dissipating.

“It’s the end of spring, the third month; grass is growing in Jiangnan. The new shoots are lovely. Then I see the common people forced to leave home and wander about, and I cannot stay in a good mood. I have devised a plan.” The handwriting was forceful and sharp, the ink free-flowing. The noble sentiments and rage of the sender could be inferred.

“I ranged far and wide, enjoying sweeping mountain vistas, as I traveled to sects and strongholds wiping out the clamor. Thus, there were also people who escaped to the high places to avoid the violence. Turbulent times are dreaded more than even tigers. It’s honestly lamentable.”

Every exchange of correspondence contained only a few sentences, like they were so excited they scribbled a few things down. For other matters, the two of them telepathically understood they could never mention those. As a result, some things secretly flourished, softly and finely, densely enveloping this couple without a word or movement.

However, what ripped open this soft and fine net was a short letter delivered by a messenger pigeon.

“Warlords vie for the throne,² making commoners’ lives hard. Your servant wishes to reunite the world to rescue the common people from untold misery.” Clutching the silk paper, Jing Wuji let out a long sigh. Huiyao, Huiyao, why torture yourself? A woman, no matter how strong, cannot unify the world.

He had been designing a military campaign with Yang Laosheng when he sighed. Meanwhile, Fan Huiyao was walking into Li Yuan’s tent, and after a long night of discussions, a woman named Ji Xia was added to Li Yuan’s side.

When they met, they might as well have not met.

From the beginning, they were away from each other for long stretches and were together for short periods. If their schedules lined up, they could meet once every few months. If they were unlucky, they would encounter each other only after a year and a half. They were both open-minded and didn’t find anything wrong with this arrangement. They took a laissez-faire attitude. After Fan Huiyao submitted to Great Yong, she traveled the four corners for Li Yuan to contend for the support of the despots and large and influential families, swamped with business. Not only did the two of them no longer have the chance to see each other, even the frequency of their letter exchanges tapered off.

When next they met up, both were astonished by the other’s rebirth. Jing Wuji had become even more unflustered and austere, with the dignified bearing of a sect sovereign. Fan Huiyao had an air of ever increasing nobility and refinement. Though both of them painstakingly moderated themselves, wearing plain clothing and sitting in the thatched cottage serving as a small rural tavern, people nearby still sneaked peeks at them.

“The rustic wine brewed here has a flavor all its own.” Jing Wuji smiled as he poured a bowl of unfiltered rice wine and pushed it across. “In the many days we haven’t met, Miss Fan’s graceful bearing has become better than ever.” He then poured a bowl for himself and downed it in one gulp.

“Sovereign jests.” Fan Huiyao raised her bowl of wine and gently sipped from it. “Though the countryside is nice, it’s a shame the turmoil of war is all around, and there are numerous bands of roving bandits. After you and I leave the village today, the ravages of war might destroy this area tomorrow.”

“Thus it is said that in the rise of a country, the people suffer, and in its fall, the people still suffer,” Jing Wuji languidly followed up. “When the Eastern Jin lost the Mandate, the feudal vassals rebelled. If one wants to turn the tide in troubled times, it will take the efforts of more than one person. With our combined martial arts and talents, we can only select an enlightened ruler and aid him in unifying the world, silencing weapons and rescuing the commoners from extreme misery. Yang Laosheng is a tiger crouching in the Central Plains, with valiant generals as numerous as the clouds and hundreds of thousands of elite troops who are the best armored soldiers in the world. What does Miss Fan think?” He stared firmly into her eyes, the atmosphere instantly tensing.

Fan Huiyao slightly lowered her eyes and gave a brief smile. “In terms of combat strength, Yang Laosheng is the best, naturally. That man is a conqueror who bears only a reputation for bravery. It’ll be difficult for him to become outstanding. Li Yuan of Great Yong cherishes the commoners and governs efficiently with respectful orders. If this man unifies the world, he will bring peace and prosperity to the people.”

“So, in that case, Miss Fan has decided to support Li Yuan.” Jing Wuji sighed softly.

“Will Sovereign renounce Yang Laosheng?” Fan Huiyao giggled.

With their current statuses, they did not need to speak in depth about some matters. Besides, in this war-torn world, her Fengyi Sect and Great Yong, his Devil Sect and Yang Laosheng, were linked and intertwined in countless ways. They could not be divided offhandedly. They did all they humanly could during today’s meeting, though all for naught.

Jing Wuji stared into her set of luminous eyes, and in the end, he swallowed the words that had flooded into his mouth. Although he knew that once they faced off as foes, their yearslong affection would necessarily be destroyed, how could a manly man like him tell her to quit? Her arrogant nature—he would only be inviting humiliation upon himself.

He would either defeat her fairly on the battlefield and then pour out his heart, or he would not say anything at all!

“Li Yuan is an extraordinary man. In no more than two years, he will openly oppose Yang Laosheng.”

“By that time, each will serve their own master. Why does Sovereign worry?” Fan Huiyao grinned as she leaned over and refilled Jing Wuji’s bowl with wine. She then downed her bowl first.

“Well said. Let us meet on the battlefield and live and die without regrets. I am not actually open-minded enough.” Finishing the wine in a single gulp, Jing Wuji felt the alcohol burn down to his chest and abdomen. A heroic spirit flared within him, and he tossed the bowl, bellowed, and walked right out the door without looking back.

He didn’t look back, nor did he dare look back. As a result, he did not know how long Fan Huiyao, watching him depart, sat in shock in the village’s small tavern.

Although we said we’ll serve different masters and live and die without regrets, but, Jing Wuji, you’ve saved me twice, and we’ve kept in contact for many years. Can I truly act against you?

Dear Fengyi Sect Master Fan Huiyao,

Though negligent in correspondence, you have always been on my mind. I recently heard that the landscape of the Sacrificial Cliffs of Huashan³ is the best.

On the sixteenth of the eighth month, I wish to invite Sect Master to a distinguished feast to discuss the general situation of the world.

The vigorous handwriting on the snow-white paper letter was delivered by pigeon like before and contained several lines of small talk. Nothing had changed in the slightest.

Before the emissary was the Fengyi Sect Master, now revered by all and whose brilliance shone far and wide. She smiled and briefly stated, “Would you please reply to your distinguished sovereign that Fan Huiyao will be punctual for the engagement.” After sending the emissary away, Fan Huiyao turned around and entered her room. Right after closing the door, she felt a rush of emotions and a tumult of thoughts. Her legs also couldn’t support the weight of her body.

Is he coming? Is he acting against me? This will be a duel to the death with no rest…. Why else would he select as dangerous a location as the Sacrificial Cliffs?

Even after all these years, Jing Wuji’s martial arts were still better than hers. Considering just martial arts, things did not bode well for her, let alone the fact she didn’t know if she could attack him. However, Fan Huiyao straightened her back. No matter what, she had to win! Great Yong, who she had shed blood, sweat, and tears for, had not yet unified the Central Plains. No matter what, she absolutely could not lose!

Hearing the emissary’s report, Jing Wuji could only let out a long sigh in sadness. After they bid farewell, they had not met each other for many years, not even exchanging a single letter. The conflict between Yang Laosheng and Great Yong had finally climaxed, and through his own intelligence networks, Jing Wuji had frequently paid attention to every action and movement of that woman. Based on her current status and position, she should have been getting an unending stream of information delivered to her desk. He didn’t know if her gaze had paused for even a moment when she read information about him.

Is this a different type of “close in spirit although far apart”?⁴ Jing Wuji sometimes thought this way with a sardonic smile. As the sovereign of the Devil Sect, he led a large group of his disciples in a charge through enemy lines, trading blood for glory and honors. Meanwhile, after Fan Huiyao subdued a lot of despots, she assassinated her opposition’s grand general with the use of her unique martial arts and unparalleled resourcefulness. On their respective battlefields, they wrote their own legends and histories.

Unfortunately, regardless of individual courage or plotting assassinations, they couldn’t change the march of history. The wheels of the chaotic world languidly and unstoppably continued to roll forward. Fan Huiyao’s original vision was as accurate as expected. With one side waxing while the other waned, the strength of the sensible governance of Great Yong was better than Yang Laosheng’s, as expected, to say nothing of the valuable assistance of the righteous sects of wulin.

Fan Huiyao was a truly astonishing woman. She had grown up in the wilderness, but she blossomed with a dazzling radiance in these troubled times. Her unique martial arts and resourcefulness seemed to have been endowed upon her by the Heavens. Jing Wuji let out an imperceptible sigh. It looked like he had not the fortune to be with her. After many years of campaigns, the Devil Sect and the Fengyi Sect had become sworn enemies. Both sides’ disciples engaged in a cycle of retaliatory revenge, The bad blood between their sects created an impassable gulf between the two of them.

Jing Wuji finally promulgated the order to assassinate all the important ministers and decorated generals of Great Yong. Although Yang Laosheng was truly not as favored as Great Yong in the hearts of the people, they still had a last resort within the wulin!

One assassination deserved another!

The conflict between the Devil Sect’s and the Fengyi Sect’s disciples was cruel to the extreme. In the short span of half a year, over thirty percent of Great Yong’s elite generals fell, while Yang Laosheng and the Devil Sect’s casualties were even more grievous. Every time Fan Huiyao personally acted, her unpredictable assassination techniques were dizzying. Every time, Jing Wuji smiled wryly at the spy reports. It might be time for him to switch the head of intelligence. His subordinate presented the course of events of the assassination in ornate language with stirring emotion, and each time it was an awe-inspiring legend!

In the previous half a year, the assassins working for the Fengyi Sect and the magnificent Great Yong armies had forced Yang Laosheng to the point where he could not take a single step back. If not for the Devil Sect’s continued support, the beaten army would probably have been in total collapse.

However, it was difficult for a solitary tree to reach the Heavens. The Devil Sect alone could not change the overall situation.

Jing Wuji muttered to himself, I cannot allow her to keep doing this. He did it not for the will of the people or for the general trend, but as the Sovereign of the Devil Sect. Preserving the entirety of the Devil Sect was his duty, and it weighed heavily upon his chest. Even though he could not bring the Devil Sect glory, splendor, wealth, and rank, he could at least withdraw them from the Central Plains with dignity and retain their spirit. Fan Huiyao, let me see how strong you have become after being apart for many years!

The day of the duel was sunny and calm. The weather was so nice Jing Wuji and Fan Huiyao both wanted to sigh. The news of the battle that would decide the fate of the wulin of the Central Plains had long been spread. Lotus Flower Peak was blanketed with a crowd of people. If not for the fact their masters needed to fight today, there likely would only have been enough room for them to jump off the peak. Who didn’t want to watch Jing Wuji, a grandmaster sovereign, duel wulin’s most legendary woman, Fan Huiyao?

At noon, the two combatants came as promised and stared at each other. Their eyes met and said more than words could say.

This was doomed to be their last meeting. In today’s battle, if Jing Wuji didn’t fall off the Sacrificial Cliffs, then Fan Huiyao, a generational beauty, would return to the dust forever. Even if both of them were lucky enough to save their lives, one of them would permanently leave the wulin of the Central Plains.

What a pity… Fan Huiyao smiled bitterly as she gazed around at her surroundings, the crowd constantly rippling. No matter what she said or did, a hundred pairs of eyes would be watching her. Even though separation was a foregone conclusion, even if they never met again in this lifetime, the will of the Heavens was so cruel. It didn’t even give them an opportunity to speak quietly!

All they could discuss … all they could discuss was the turmoil in jianghu and the general situation of the world.

In the annals of history, on the sixteenth day of the eighth month, the Fengyi Sect Master, Fan Huiyao, met the Sovereign of the Devil Sect, Jing Wuji, on the Sacrificial Cliffs of Huashan. The two of them freely discussed the situation of the world, making speculations just like the best of friends. After a long while, Wuji gave a long sigh and declared, “Alas, we regrettably met too late. One of us must die in today’s battle. If I die, then as long as you are in the Central Plains, my Devil Sect won’t take one step into the Central Plains.”

He said he regretted they met too late … but was it truly too late? Their meeting was not actually too late. It was just that he had watched each and every other opportunity slip through his fingers.

If he had taken her under his wing when she first started out … If he had taken her straight back to the Devil Sect after rescuing her from the Black Mountain Stronghold … If he had put word to his feelings during the exchange of letters that had taken place over several years … If…

However, if he had done those things, he would no longer be Jing Wuji, and Fan Huiyao would no longer be Fan Huiyao.

In the end, neither of them were normal men and women in the mortal world. They both possessed exceptional martial arts and were charged with important duties for their respective martial sects. And they lived in troubled times. Maybe because of his self-esteem and her arrogance, they were only suited to being fast friends who disagreed with each other, making small talk and drinking and laughing in an intimate fashion. Perhaps it might truly have been better to forget about jianghu and stick together through thick and thin.⁵

”If I die, then as long as you are in the Central Plains, my Devil Sect won’t take one step into the Central Plains.” Since I can’t have that, I’ll let go! Chop it off with a simple, thorough strike!

Fan Huiyao smiled calmly. It would have been better to not have met. Do you mean that? If you lose to me, even if you’re lucky enough to survive, you’ll set the Central Plains as the boundary, and never shall we meet again? How callous of you. Since you wish to sever ties, not a shred of hope is left for us. However, I’m afraid the loser is me. Judging from his grave demeanor and the guarded look in his eyes, I fear he’s transcended the laws of nature. My odds of victory are not high in this battle…

“If sire meets misfortune, then Huiyao will no longer have an intimate friend. If I die, the Fengyi Sect will withdraw from jianghu.” She smiled sincerely. I will remember you, win or lose, alive or dead. In this lifetime, in this world, I won’t accept a second person who is not you. However … as you wish, after this battle, we will never meet again. Never again.

The two of them drew their blades simultaneously and leaped into the air. This battle would become significant enough to be engraved in the memories of the entirety of wulin, a duel that would astound the world!

The bladesmanship was menacing and glorious, the swordsmanship graceful and gorgeous. Jing Wuji and Fan Huiyao both threw in all their strength. Since this was the final battle, they wouldn’t leave themselves any regrets.

Not leaving yourself any regrets? Jing Wuji smiled bitterly. He had already achieved enlightenment. Fan Huiyao was not supposed to have any hope, but when he looked at her pulchritudinous face, he just could not force himself to take her life. If he killed her, that would truly give him a ruinous regret for the rest of his life.

After all … after all … Okay, after all, my goal is to lead the Devil Sect out of the Central Plains, not fight off the Fengyi Sect, after which we will contend for the Central Plains. As a result, I just need to wait for an honorable chance to retreat, right? Just, why do you always use such life-threatening moves? Is victory truly that important for you, Huiyao? Is it so important that you’re willing to give your life to strive for this possible chance?

Fan Huiyao didn’t have the leeway to indulge in flights of fancy. Jing Wuji’s bladesmanship was extremely terrifying, each attack vicious, his blade swift. If not for her complete focus on pressing forth sword strikes, she would long since have fallen to Jing Wuji’s blade. Despite this, the difference in martial prowess between the two of them was not easy to offset. Although she often saved herself when her life was hanging by a thread by forcing him to retract his blade, she was still wounded time and again. Small plum flowers looked like they were blooming all over her white clothes.

However, she was arrogant and resilient to the extreme. At the beginning, she put seventy percent into defense and thirty percent into offense. Seeing the situation turning unfavorable, she clenched her teeth and simply fought speed with speed, attacking without giving up an inch of ground. Glinting blades and sword blows intertwined. Fan Huiyao’s mind was completely clear, and she felt like she’d never experienced such a delightful battle before. Whether she won or lost today, being able to duel like this meant her life wasn’t pointless!

This battle was the culmination of her life’s martial arts training. Even if she were buried on Huashan, she would have no regrets. Fervor boiled over within her, and with a howl, her sword twirled outward with the quickness of lightning and the beauty of a rainbow, employing innovative moves and marvelous forms in continuous succession.

With a clink, the heated combat suddenly froze.

Nobody, not even Fan Huiyao, imagined this could happen, so when she saw her glittering long sword impaled in Jing Wuji’s chest, she locked up, dumbfounded. She injured him! She actually injured him!

In that very moment, icy, acute pain speared her soul. Their friendship, compassion and gratitude for each other, affection, all of everything had finally been severed by her own hand.

Fan Huiyao moved her body a little and instinctively wanted to explain things, wanted to reach over and help him up, wanted to stem the bleeding and heal his wound for him. Jing Wuji, however, removed the long sword by himself, then hit some of his acupoints to stop bleeding. With a smile, he declared, “Excellent martial arts, Sect Master Fan. After today, as long as Sect Master Fan is alive, the Devil Sect shall not encroach on the Central Plains!” With that, he swaggered off without looking back.

Fan Huiyao gazed after his gloomy yet still arrogant and aloof figure receding into the distance. Reining in her expression full of alarm and anguish, she serenely watched him leave. She was the sect master of the Fengyi Sect, the leader of the righteous sects of the Central Plains who had just defeated the sovereign of the Devil Sect, a newly crowned martial grandmaster, the popular “Greatest Sword in the World.”

As a result, she merely stood proudly atop Lotus Flower Peak, floating like an immortal, majestic like a revered deity.

After that day, the two of them never met again. Fan Huiyao only heard that Jing Wuji took the Devil Sect to Northern Han and sought refuge there. Soon after, he traveled the distant prairie alone, and amid the wind and mist beyond the Great Wall, his bladesmanship improved significantly.

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Allegedly, he became the State Mentor of Northern Han several years later. Allegedly, his bladesmanship reached the celestial being realm. Allegedly…

It was because he abided by his promise that he did not take a step into the Central Plains. He merely watched quietly from Northern Han, seeing the Fengyi Sect at its zenith up until their crushing defeat during the succession struggle.

“Master, Third Apprentice Brother reports that the Sect Master of the Fengyi Sect was surrounded by the Eighteen Arhats of Shaolin and died in battle.” After reviewing all the causes and effects of the affair, Jing Wuji let out a long and sad sigh.

He knew hatred ought to be churning within his breast. Nothing in the world should be able to stop him from killing the youth named Jiang Zhe, that former surrendered subject of Southern Chu who had designed the death of the Fengyi Sect Master. But strangely, he couldn’t muster up a shred of willingness to avenge Fan Huiyao.

It wasn’t because he feared Great Yong would retaliate against Northern Han, much less that he was apprehensive over his status.

The war of succession, like vying for supremacy of the world in turbulent times, was the point of his conversation with Fan Huiyao many years ago. They would serve different masters and live and die without regrets. With her losing her life in a struggle like that, what enmity was there to speak of?

Countless experts wished to murder the rulers. Even if he personally acted, he couldn’t guarantee success. Besides, that youth was a frail and sickly boy. A rarity.

He should properly defeat a person like that with wisdom, nor could he slight that youth by plotting an assassination.

Until he met Jiang Zhe and disagreed with him. He noticed his black clothes and watched him meander over barefooted, then Jiang Zhe spoke boldly, eloquently, and candidly in such an elegant and rare manner. Jing Wuji sighed to himself, Huiyao, Huiyao, it is no letdown of your illustrious name that you died at that man’s hand.

He finally relinquished his yearslong obsession. He knew that from this day on, Fan Huiyao’s name would no longer taste painful or make him sad.

He gazed up at the vast sky. Clear skies.

Footnotes:

Fun fact: Every single section title put together is a poem uttered by Mu Liuchen (沐流尘), a character in Pili puppetry shows. Pili is most famous in the West for collaborating with Gen Urobuchi and creating Thunderbolt Fantasy.