Chaotic World Book
Chapter 85 - 83: Wind Rises by the Lake

Chapter 85: Chapter 83: Wind Rises by the Lake

Zhao Changhe’s leisurely days had lasted three days.

At night, he immersed himself in historical studies by the light of a lamp. By day, he would go to learn horse riding and when tired, would hold a little white rabbit under the willow trees by the riverbank, hiding from the distant riders and secretly kissing behind a tree.

Wuzhui and Black Peony lingered on the edge of the woodland, watching the couple... It was unclear whether they sparked any fires of their own and mated secretly. Anyway, the man and woman under the tree were lost in their own tangled emotions, too preoccupied to care about what their horses were doing.

Initially, the little white rabbit was quite unhappy about its beloved horse mating, but it seemed fine as long as the horses belonged to Brother Zhao...

It had to happen eventually, from people to horses.

Now Wuzhui was also behaving, knowing that misbehavior would lead to punishment and that behaving meant companionship from a little mare; even a horse knew what to do.

Besides, the master was really impressive – in just three days, he had evolved from a complete riding novice to someone who could perform complex maneuvers like hiding inside the stirrups, resembling a man who had made a living on horseback for years, with no trace of a beginner.

Cui Yuanyang also noticed that, when it came to physical activities, Brother Zhao learned exceptionally fast, while every time he went to the study to read, Brother Zhao would appear dazed and sleepy.

He claimed he wanted to read about the epochs of history, and he would start with enthusiasm, but he’d sit there with glazed eyes, and after three days it was hard to tell how much he had actually read or remembered.

Ah, just like the old days when Yangyang was forced to memorize the mental methods of Inner Strength, truly a married couple.

He was right; someone like him shouldn’t even think about the court; he was born to ride boldly and command respect in the Worldly Society.

But Yangyang was finding it increasingly hard to let go.

In fact, the matters with the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow had already been resolved the day before yesterday, and Zhao Changhe could have left then. Learning horse riding and history were good reasons for him to stay another two days. But reading was never-ending, and horse riding had its standards; the day he learned everything would mean he could leave at any time...

Cui Yuanyang even felt that Zhao Changhe’s kisses were no longer as deep as they had been the last few days, though he wasn’t sure if that was just his imagination...

Of course, it was his imagination; Zhao Changhe felt shy now about kissing the young girl’s lips, so how could kissing her cheek not feel half-hearted to him... His love for Yangyang had always far exceeded his desires, and he didn’t know if this would change when they met again.

"Brother Zhao..." As the wind rustled through the willows, the young girl nestled into her lover’s shoulder and circled her finger, muttering dreamily.

"Hmm?" Zhao Changhe reached out to tease her chin, "What’s wrong?"

"Tomorrow is Qingming, our whole family must hold the ancestral rites. With the issue of my second uncle, we also need to offer sacrifices to our ancestors, to seek answers in their spirits’ presence."

"Hmm, I haven’t seen your father these past two days; the aftermath must be troublesome, with your second uncle’s strong influence and many complications. For him to still make time to talk to me that night, it wasn’t easy."

"In front of others, he always needs to remain calm." Cui Yuanyang whispered softly, "I’ve always felt that father lives a tiring life – ninth on the Heavenly List and of renowned status, admired by everyone; but I think it’s less fulfilling than Brother Zhao, who lives unfettered by the Worldly Society."

"That’s why the little fool admires that turbulent life in the Worldly Society and ends up being tricked by bandits."

"Humph..." Cui Yuanyang refrained from saying it was good she met someone like Brother Zhao instead. The couple had spun enough cheesy lines these past few days. What she meant to say was, precisely because of this, Yangyang didn’t want to be a burden, holding back Brother Zhao with her concerns and becoming another Cui Wenjing.

In a way, letting the Worldly Society think that Zhao Changhe was driven away by the Cui family was a good thing; he could still proceed unencumbered.

But the young girl ultimately didn’t say this out loud; her mentioning that everyone had to perform the rites the next day was clear enough.

She didn’t want to face a tearful farewell, where the anguish of parting might linger for a month. Zhao Changhe likely wasn’t fond of clingy sentimentalism either; leaving while they were busy with the rites was ideal.

So she provided the opportunity, and everybody understood without needing to state it openly.

Yangyang always knew how to keep things in proportion.

...

April 5th, Qingming.

There was light rain at night, which had stopped in the early morning. At this moment, the fog was dense, the sky dusky, with the crescent moon still faintly hanging in the sky.

In the guest room, Zhao Changhe gently stroked the Great Xia Dragon Sparrow, which was coated to resemble a rusty, broken knife: "Middle Rank Knife, don’t rush, buddy. I’ll take you out for some action."

The knife seemed to buzz, discontent yet joyful.

Zhao Changhe slowly slung it over his back and looked at himself in the bronze mirror.

A towering Great Han of more than eight feet tall, with a broadsword four feet long hanging on his back; the long handle jutted diagonally from his shoulder, creating an imposing presence from a distance. Zhao Changhe grew increasingly pleased with the sword; its style was striking enough to wake him up.

His Scholar’s silk robe had been replaced with a Samurai’s practical attire, no longer bright and showy but understated gray-brown.zęA worn-out wine gourd hung askew at his waist, matched with the deliberate stubble of the past few days, reflecting a carefree and rugged demeanor in the mirror.

"Dang!" The sound of a bell rang from the distant hill, signaling the Cui family’s ancestral rite and calling everyone together.

Zhao Changhe turned to look into the distance; amidst the mist, the mountains were obscure.

But he knew there was a young girl walking along the mountain path, looking back step by step toward his direction in the guest quarters.

He stared fixedly for a while, then gathered his belongings and strode out the door, mounting the snow-trampling Wuzhui.

The horse neighed long and loud, and in the morning mist, its hooves beat the silent streets of Qinghe County, heading straight for the river beyond.

Upon the hill, Cui Yuanyang had just reached the top when he sensed something and turned to look into the distance.

The mist slowly cleared, and though no one could be seen, the riverside willowy banks and the morning breeze and waning moon were faintly visible.

The little girl, who never bothered to thoroughly understand her books, suddenly had phrases handed down from the previous epoch arise in her heart.

Many years would pass before his return, ostensibly set against a backdrop of fine days and fair landscapes.

Even if there were a thousand tender sentiments, to whom could she express them?

Those were lines that had endured through the ages, for once re-read, one knew they were ensnared by the words themselves.

"Father," she suddenly pulled at Cui Wenjing’s sleeve in front of her, "After the ancestral ritual, Yangyang herself will request confinement, please teach me the Qinghe Purple Energy."

Cui Wenjing, greatly comforted, stroked his beard and said, "Very well."

Cui Yuanyang looked again towards the river outside the county, murmuring softly, "You must wait for me... Do not forget Yangyang in three years."

...

A thousand li to the southeast, Ancient Sword Lake.

There was a bamboo grove by the lake, a grass hut in the grove, and a grave next to the hut.

Han Wubing sat quietly by the grave, his longsword laid across the stele, opening a jug of warm wine and slowly pouring it over the sword, sipping occasionally himself, as if sharing a drink with the sword, yet also performing some sort of libation.

Time passed unmarked, and amidst the thin mist, the bamboo stirred.

The wine in the gourd was gone.

Han Wubing, placing the empty gourd upright in front of the grave marker, picked up the wine-soaked longsword.

"Han Wubing, I knew you would come."

A throng of figures encircled him, their presence unsuspected until then.

Han Wubing, without turning his head and still facing the grave, replied, "I knew you would come too."

"You came to seek death then? Worshiping only to lose your life, what’s the point?"

"I felt the offerings were missing something, the wine wasn’t enough."

"Hm? Missing your bounty, perhaps? Ha ha... ha ha ha..."

"Wine without blood lacked enemies’ heads; your timing couldn’t be better."

"Ziiing!" The dragon’s roar came as the sword qi burst forth, the fierce killing intent dissipating the mist throughout the bamboo grove.

Zhao Changhe, riding midway, suddenly reined in his horse, looking up at the sky.

"April, Qingming. Han Wubing realizes his swordsmanship at the grave, reaching the Mystical Gate Five Layer. Within the time of a single incense stick, he slayed thirty-two enemies of Sword Pavilion, performed a blood sacrifice for his dear friend. Among them was one peer of equal strength, and those below him not a match, his murderous aura piercing the heavens."

"Change in the Hidden Dragon List."

"Hidden Dragon number sixty-six, Han Wubing."

"He without ailment, his enemies without fate."

Zhao Changhe watched for a long while, then suddenly laughed, "These past few months, those partisan scribes won’t be able to shut their mouths. I hear the Chaotic World Book didn’t use to change this often; could this be a sign of impending storms, a herald of heroes rising?"

He patted his horse’s head, chuckling, "Wuzhui, are you feeling impatient too?"

Snow-tramping Wuzhui: "..."

I’m just a horse; what are you talking about...

"Let’s go." Zhao Changhe spurred his horse into a gallop, racing away, "The opponent is waiting ahead for me; how can I fall behind!"

————

PS: Tonight, there will be three updates, which might come out around eleven or twelve o’clock.