Chapter 107: Qingzhou

They say that the Central Plains are at their most enchanting in the spring, when the land is wreathed in blossoms. The saying was true without question, especially for those who had come from the north. Spring had deepened, and tender leaves were beginning to emerge shyly from the branches, their fresh green-gold hues strikingly vivid. The sight alone brought an indescribable comfort. Between the little bridges and flowing streams, water murmured and pattered softly, while peach and plum blossoms competed in splendor as far as the eye could see. Threads of fragrance swept through the air, and delight arose quite naturally in the heart.

The beat of hooves came from afar, drawing nearer and growing clearer by the moment. One horse followed another; judging by their speed, the riders were clearly in a desperate hurry. Though the broad post road seemed spacious enough, it appeared almost too narrow for the two of them, as if it could scarcely contain their urgency. Their horses raced onward, hooves striking the ground in rapid succession and sending dust billowing high behind them. The lazy travelers along the road could not help cursing under their breath, but the riders seemed not to hear a word. Their speed did not slacken—in fact, it increased noticeably.

When they drew close enough, their forms became clear. One was a man and the other a woman. The man wore a long robe of coarse blue cloth that hung nearly to his feet. It was exceedingly plain, and there was something faintly old-fashioned about it. Perhaps only a northerner from beyond the desert would dress in such a manner.

The woman, by contrast, was dressed in the style favored by the more refined lands of Jiangnan and the Central Plains, where the influence of civilization seemed more pronounced. Beneath her lively green robes, she wore a white veil that accentuated her tall and graceful figure. Despite their obvious differences, the two shared certain similarities. Both carried long swords upon their backs, bearing themselves unmistakably as people of the martial world. And their faces—viewed from the same angle—possessed a beauty that instinctively awakened envy in all who saw them.

In a water country such as this, handsome men and beautiful women were perhaps somewhat more plentiful than elsewhere. Yet before these two, most of them were reduced to the ordinary and unremarkable. That alone was enough to draw considerable attention, which was hardly a fortunate thing. After all, given their identities, both Han Tanyi and Shui Linglong were prominent figures in the martial world of the Central Plains. If one had to decide who was more renowned, then over the past year or two, Shui Linglong’s name had become increasingly impossible to ignore.

The Blue Lotus Demon Cult was still only a legend, but that legend had grown clearer than it had been sixteen years ago. Shui Linglong could only feel aggrieved by the fact. Over the past three years, the Blue Lotus Cult had remained hidden and had created no great scandal in the martial world. If one insisted on naming something, there was only Shui Linglong’s questionable decision to employ the cult in her search for Han Tanyi.

But what did it matter? Right and wrong were perhaps exactly as Shui Linglong had said: impossible to distinguish and impossible to explain. Dao Tianfeng’s ascent to the position of Martial Alliance Leader was perhaps the true reason the word “demon” had taken on such profound meaning.

Han Tanyi’s thoughts, naturally, were complicated. Back in the far north, he had imagined countless times what it would be like when his feet once more touched the Central Plains. In most of those imaginings, someone else had brought him back. Only now did he realize that all his earlier conjectures had been nothing more than wild, unreliable fantasies.

A man like him might be an excellent piece on the board when the crucial moment arrived, but once he had been discarded, he no longer held much value. Besides, how much attention could a person who might already be dead possibly attract?

It was not necessarily a bad thing. At least he had gained the freedom he wanted. Yet he could not say why; ever since he had crossed into the Central Plains, he had sensed something strange. He constantly felt that someone was following behind them. But it remained no more than a feeling, unsupported by any evidence. Perhaps this was merely what his troubled heart had expected: excessive worry giving rise to illusions and conjuring things that did not exist.

The hoofbeats continued. Xingyang City was still a considerable distance away, and the road to Xingyang could not avoid passing by the Prince of Qi’s Residence.

Han Tanyi had never cared what sort of man Xiao Jinghao was. No matter how much power he wielded at court, to Han Tanyi he had been little more than an irrelevant presence. But after what had happened three years earlier, Han Tanyi could not help harboring some resentment. He could bring himself to hate neither Shen Wansan nor the Heavenly Mechanist Taoist. Instead, the last thread of his bitterness had gathered around the Prince of Qi’s Residence.

Of course, with time passing, he no longer wished to pursue the matter. For one thing, it was not worth the effort. For another, he no longer possessed the ability to do anything about it. At present, all he wanted was to pass through the region quickly, reach Xingyang, and rescue Flower Butterfly.

Traveling too urgently inevitably left one parched and weary. What was more, they had already been on the road for four or five days without a proper meal or a good night’s sleep. His stomach was beginning to protest, and drowsiness weighed heavily upon him. Thus, when dusk began to blur the world in violet shadows, the two finally reined in their horses. It was time to find an inn and rest properly.

Once they passed through Qingzhou, only three or four hundred miles remained between them and Xingyang City. Even at full speed, they could arrive in roughly two days. This was no leisurely excursion to admire the scenery. A man like Shen Wansan would not be dealt with easily. What awaited them was destined to be a contest of wits and courage. The more dangerous the struggle, the more necessary it was to preserve their strength and keep their minds clear. No matter how deeply worry gnawed at them, there was no point in rushing headlong into the moment.

Finding an inn was hardly difficult. Qingzhou lay in the southwestern reaches of the Central Plains, not too far from the royal capital of Chang’an. It served as one of the gateways guarding the capital and naturally received considerable attention from the royal court. The city stretched for dozens of miles and was guarded by a prince of the blood, making it a major stronghold of the region.

With people constantly coming and going, commercial opportunities abounded, and fortune-seekers flocked there in abundance. Inns were simply one of the most obvious manifestations of that prosperity.

“Oh, gracious! Esteemed guests, please come in, please come in! Our proprietor has been waiting for you for quite some time!”

They had chosen an inn at random. People of the martial world were not usually particular about such things and were generally easygoing. Yet the shop assistant who hurried toward them seemed extraordinarily excited.

There were many travelers passing through, including no small number of nobles, officials, wealthy merchants, and great traders. Those were the people who spent money as though it were water and should have been the first targets of any sensible businessman. Yet today, the shop assistant acted as if he had not seen them at all. Instead, he reserved his entire obsequious smile for these two wandering swordsmen.

“We are hardly wealthy folk,” Han Tanyi said. “Even if we eat and lodge here, we will only order ordinary meals and take ordinary rooms. We cannot afford to pay you some exorbitant price.”

Perhaps it was because he had been alone for so long, but in the face of such enthusiasm, Han Tanyi seemed genuinely uncertain how to respond. His words came out with an oddly awkward air.

Shui Linglong had not yet reacted when the shop assistant, embarrassed for only an instant, quickly recovered. His smile became even more pronounced.

“What are you saying, honored guest? From the way you are dressed, the two of you must be travelers of the martial world. His Highness the Prince of Qi has issued an order: any martial wanderer who lodges within Qingzhou will have the cost of food, drink, and accommodation covered by the Prince of Qi’s Residence. You may stay here without a care. There is no need to speak of money; that would be far too vulgar. Please, come inside. Whatever you require, simply ask. So long as you do not mind our humble service, we will do our utmost to accommodate you!”

His explanation was perfectly reasonable. Even though Han Tanyi and Shui Linglong still had plenty of questions, they understood the situation at once. No wonder the shop assistant had reacted as he did.

For an ordinary household, no matter how wealthy, spending three or five ounces of silver on an inn would still cause considerable heartache. To the Prince of Qi, however, such a sum was negligible. And to these wandering martial artists, the money was not coming from their own pockets, so naturally they would not be stingy. They might even spend more generously than the rich.

Besides, this order had come directly from the Prince of Qi. Obeying it was also a way for the innkeeper to display his loyalty. Anyone hoping to establish himself in Qingzhou would sooner offend Heaven’s own emperor than go against Xiao Jinghao’s wishes.

“Well, who would have thought that on our first visit to the Central Plains, we would encounter such good fortune?” Han Tanyi turned around, a teasing smile suddenly appearing on his face. Even his eyes took on a hint of roguish mischief. “Mother, little sister, what do you say? Shall we stay here tonight?”

In the past, he would never have behaved so frivolously. But time and circumstance had changed him, and his temperament had shifted considerably. He had originally intended to call her “wife,” but before the word could leave his lips, he suddenly felt it would be inappropriate. He hurriedly changed course and called her “little sister” instead, using the title to conceal their supposed identities.

As for Shui Linglong, she was clever enough to understand him immediately. With a quick blink, she cooperated without hesitation.

“Brother, we will do as you say. It is our first time in the Central Plains, and wherever we stay is fine. We have yet to find the person we came for, so we should conserve our traveling money. If someone else is willing to pay the bill, that is naturally a wonderful thing.”