Chapter 10: Mirkwood

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Ye Zhengliu accepted the task and struck like lightning. In only four seconds, she dragged her blade deeply across both sides of the man’s neck, once forward and once back. Blood gushed from him like a pair of fountains of death, spraying wildly to either side like the wings of twin crimson butterflies.

At the same moment she sheathed her sword, she kicked out and sent the man sprawling with a blow to the chest. She watched coldly as he clawed at the air in one last desperate struggle, unable even to brush the hem of her clothing.

Five seconds passed in the blink of an eye. Ye Zhengliu stepped back several paces and let the man lie there, silently bleeding to death. She paid no further attention to her dying opponent and turned her gaze toward the other end of the room.

Just like hers, Sha Hun’s battle was also drawing to a close.

The boy planted his foot and kicked off the ground, sending his entire body springing upward. The slender sword at his waist left its sheath almost instantly, so quickly that no one could make out the process of his drawing it.

Ye Zhengliu focused her eyes. The blade shone with a frosty brilliance as killing intent burst forth. Its gleam traced a silver half-moon, as sudden and graceful as an antelope hanging its horns on a branch. In less time than a blink, the moonlight was suddenly drenched in vivid scarlet.

What a swift sword! What a keen sword! What a beautiful sword!

The next moment, the man’s head fell from his shoulders. His head rolled several times across the ground, his dust-covered eyes still wide with terror, not even having had time to close.

Sha Hun merely frowned and casually shook the blood from his silver moon.

He kicked the head away from his feet, then looked in Ye Zhengliu’s direction, unmistakable disappointment in his expression.

“Yours died too?”

Confronted with Sha Hun’s plainly written gaze—They’re both dead, so there’s no extra food to eat—Ye Zhengliu was speechless for a moment.

She gave a dry little laugh and steered the conversation elsewhere.

“Did your wound tear open? Let me take another look.”

The white cloth wrapped around the boy’s chest had already begun to seep red. His movements had probably been too violent, causing the muscles to tear open the wound beneath its thin scab.

Sha Hun paused, lowered his head to inspect his chest, and only then did a belated trace of pain appear in his eyes.

He obediently returned to his pile of straw and removed his shirt, allowing Ye Zhengliu to examine the wound.

As usual, Ye Zhengliu divided out a small packet of refined salt, dissolved it in water, and used it to clean Sha Hun’s injury. Once the old strips of cloth soaked through with blood had been removed, she set them aside. After being washed and dried, they could still be used again.

While bandaging Sha Hun, Ye Zhengliu received her task reward.

[Side Quest: Deal with the Intruders—Completed √

Quest Description: Anyone who comes uninvited in the middle of the night is either a thief or a lecher. But now that they’re dead, there’s no need to investigate the corpses’ identities too closely. Congratulations on protecting your property and your safety.

As new arrivals continue to appear, such incidents will surely come one after another. Please make adequate preparations each time.

Quest Rewards, already issued: One draw; one corpse]

Ye Zhengliu: “…”

Thanks, but she really did not want the second reward.

Ye Zhengliu had long since grown accustomed to the system’s opportunistic distribution of rewards. She dismissed the dialogue box and found herself still thinking about Sha Hun’s astonishing sword stroke.

According to Sha Hun, he had lived in the forest ever since childhood. He had not seen so many humans until he was captured and brought to the island—and that had also been the first time he had ever encountered a sword.

Ye Zhengliu had always assumed that although Sha Hun carried a sword, it was merely a substitute for the sharp claws and teeth he himself lacked. Only after witnessing that display with her own eyes did she realize that she had underestimated him.

“How do you know how to use a sword?”

More importantly, how could he use it so well?

Sha Hun looked at Ye Zhengliu in confusion, unable to understand what she meant.

“You just pick it up and use it.”

Ye Zhengliu: “I mean, did someone teach you swordsmanship?”

“It isn’t human speech. Why would I need to learn it?” Sha Hun looked even more puzzled. “Of course you just pick it up and know how to use it. Don’t you know how to use a sword when you pick one up?”

The sincerity in his eyes almost made it seem that not knowing how to use a sword upon picking one up was a sign of profound stupidity.

Ye Zhengliu: “…”

Thank goodness Master Du Mu had her back. Otherwise, she truly would not know how.

Even now, she could only follow the skill prompts to hack, chop, slash, and cleave. She could not piece together even a single complete sword technique, much less an established system.

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If Ye Zhengliu had not known that Sha Hun had yet to master the advanced communication skill known as “joking,” she would almost have thought the boy was deliberately teasing her.

A faint laugh suddenly came from nearby.

“He possesses a sword-born physique. He was born for the sword. Someone like him could be only three years old, and so long as he is strong enough to lift a sword, he would instinctively know how to use it.”

Ye Zhengliu and Sha Hun both whipped around. Mu Yaoguang stood beyond the bars, his folding fan opening with languid grace to reveal a richly patterned surface. One hand rested behind his back, while a leisurely smile played across his face.

Even with Sha Hun’s wolf-like senses, he had not noticed when Mu Yaoguang had appeared outside the enclosure. Nor did he know how long the man had been standing there, watching them.

Ye Zhengliu dropped the cloth in her hand and rose abruptly.

Only after confirming Mu Yaoguang’s presence did she realize that the strange, rich fragrance clinging to him had already infiltrated every corner of the cell without a sound.

“Why are you here?!”

Mu Yaoguang gently shook his head, then suddenly retreated. At almost the exact same moment, Sha Hun drew his sword and surged forward. The cold, hard tip slipped like a ghost through the gaps in the bluestone bars. At the most perilous instant, the sword energy even grazed and tore Mu Yaoguang’s collar.

Mu Yaoguang retreated two more steps. Only when Sha Hun could no longer reach him even with his arm stretched to its limit did he casually use his closed fan to knock the sword point aside.

“See? I told you he was very good with a sword.” Mu Yaoguang did not spare Sha Hun a glance, speaking directly to Ye Zhengliu instead.

Sha Hun clung tightly to the bars, an unwilling growl spilling from his throat. Tonight was the twenty-sixth day of the waning moon. The crescent hung like a hook, and beneath the slanting fragments of moonlight falling through the skylight, his howl sounded especially desolate.

Only then did Ye Zhengliu remember that Sha Hun and Mu Yaoguang seemed to have some history.

When Sha Hun had previously tried and failed to escape, had Mu Yaoguang been the one to capture him and bring him back?

Then this grudge ran deep indeed.

Had Mu Yaoguang come here tonight to flaunt his peacock-like elegance in front of Sha Hun simply to make himself hated?

Unhurried, Mu Yaoguang opened his fan fold by fold until it covered half his face. He gazed at Ye Zhengliu and sighed with an air of mingled sincerity and pretense.

“When I saw that they had assigned you here, I was relieved.”

“Master Mu?” Ye Zhengliu raised her brows in confusion, finding his words suspicious. “Since you have come all this way, may I ask what brings you here?”

Mu Yaoguang’s gaze brushed lightly across her face as though by accident, then quickly shifted away. Lowering his lashes, he gave a reserved smile.

“I heard that new people were being assigned to the Fighting House today, so I came especially to take a look.”

His words made it sound as though he had paid a midnight visit out of concern for Ye Zhengliu’s safety.

Yet by her own reckoning, her acquaintance with this man amounted to no more than a spoonful. She could hardly be worthy of such profound affection.

Therefore, he certainly had another purpose. Most likely, he was using her as a pretext.

Ye Zhengliu was entirely certain of that.

If Mu Yaoguang insisted on putting on a performance, there was nothing she could do to stop him. After all, she was merely a prop in his play. But she did not need to stop him.

Whatever reason he had for acting, and whoever he intended to impress, his behavior at least guaranteed Ye Zhengliu’s position and safety within the Fighting House. It might even win her greater freedom.

It was beneficial to both sides, so why should she expose him?

Ye Zhengliu smiled faintly and spread her hands.

“Then you have seen for yourself. Although I did not go to your Tower of Gathered Jade, I am doing fairly well here. Everything is fine, except that we are a little short of medicine and medical supplies. I may have to trouble you to lend a hand.”

She did have excellent healing powder hidden away, but in these circumstances, she ought to be “short of medicine.”

Seeing her continue the performance alongside him, Mu Yaoguang showed no surprise. He reached into his robe and produced a package wrapped in oiled paper, giving it a small, self-satisfied shake.

“I know what conditions are like in the Fighting House. Naturally, I prepared medicine long ago.”

What an obliging man!

Mu Yaoguang tossed the paper package lightly. It landed beside the bluestone bars, close enough for Ye Zhengliu to retrieve with a simple reach.

“Our duties are different, so I cannot linger here.” Mu Yaoguang sighed. “If you find yourself lacking anything in your daily life, you may instruct the jailers. I shall be leaving now. Take good care of yourself.”

Having accepted his gift, Ye Zhengliu felt she ought to show a little professional dedication. She summoned the warmth of an actress and said with great enthusiasm:

“Mhm, mhm, mhm! Come by often!”

Mu Yaoguang: “…”

With a smile, he snapped his fan shut and walked away without looking back.

Although he himself had vanished, the dense, sweet fragrance remained. Its richness even overwhelmed the stench of blood from the corpse, lingering and circling through the cell for a long time.

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Ye Zhengliu could not help wondering whether Mu Yaoguang had secretly hidden a solid air freshener nearby before leaving.

She asked Sha Hun, “What kind of fragrance is this?”

It smelled neither like flowers nor fruit. It was not cloying, but neither did Ye Zhengliu find it pleasant.

Ever since Mu Yaoguang had departed safely, Sha Hun had sat gloomily on the straw, hugging his sword. At her question, he did not even raise his head. He merely gave a single howl—“Awooo”—as his answer.

Ye Zhengliu: “…”

It had been a long time since she had heard Sha Hun howl.

She had thought he used wolf howls only to introduce himself.

Tentatively, she asked, “Are you naming something?”

Sha Hun frowned. His vocabulary was too limited, and he did not know how best to explain.

“It is a kind of flower… When rabbits, deer, antelope, and bison eat it, they run wild, refuse to sleep at night, and keep butting into the other rabbits, deer, antelope, and bison…”

Given that description and Mu Yaoguang’s profession, Ye Zhengliu understood at once.

“Oh. An aphrodisiac.”

Sha Hun gazed at her with complete innocence.

Ye Zhengliu gazed innocently back.

“Why are you staring at me? Were you not saying that the fragrance on him is like that flower?”

To think that he was constantly covered in such a scent. Who would have imagined that Mu Yaoguang, proprietor of a pleasure house and head pimp, would be so devoted to his profession?

“Mhm.”

Once he saw that Ye Zhengliu understood what he meant, Sha Hun contentedly lay down to sleep.

It seemed he had already forgotten the frustration of failing to stab Mu Yaoguang. Perhaps animals were simply like that: at any given moment, they could keep only one thing in mind.

Amused, Ye Zhengliu shook her head and reached out to retrieve the oiled-paper package.

At that time, she did not yet know that because of Sha Hun’s unfamiliarity with spoken language, there had been a serious misunderstanding between them.

Sha Hun’s howl had indeed referred to a flower. It was pure white from root to petal, with a slender stem and delicate leaves, so fragile and pitiful that the locals called it the Silent Devil.

Yet the Silent Devil had no fragrance whatsoever.

If its name were translated literally, the closest rendering would be “the Soundless Demon.”

When herbivorous animals ate it, they did indeed run wild, refuse to sleep, and repeatedly butt into other livestock—but the butting was literal, done with horns, skulls, or hind legs, not the mating Ye Zhengliu had assumed.

Animals that consumed the flower would walk straight into the middle of a broad river without looking back, continuing until they drowned. They could even overcome their instinctive fear of fire and throw themselves heedlessly into forest lightning fires, burning themselves alive until nothing remained but charred bones.

That, of course, was not rutting.

It was madness.

What Sha Hun meant was that the fragrance surrounding Mu Yaoguang was, in essence, like the pure, flawless Silent Devil.

He and that delicate white flower shared much in their nature. Both possessed a wordless madness.

Unfortunately, because of the misunderstanding between them, Ye Zhengliu failed to grasp Sha Hun’s warning.

The boy was not particularly clever. Having grown up among wolves, he understood nothing of human ways.

Sha Hun spoke haltingly, and with only a few words, others could easily lead him astray. Even in a matter as important as escape, he had charged ahead without a plan. It was only after reaching the seashore that he remembered he was unable to swim.

Yet lessons that others needed blood to remember, Sha Hun had already learned from his very first encounter with Mu Yaoguang.

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