Chapter Thirty-Four: A Letter of Divorce

Dusk hung low, the dying sun painting the sky blood-red. At this hour, the city’s streets grew crowded; by modern standards, it was the evening rush. After a day’s toil, people left behind their beloved or despised workplaces, each hastening toward a home—whether splendid or humble—where a bowl of hot soup awaited.

Qin Cheng and Linglong walked side by side through the throng, always keeping a step’s distance between them. Both lost in their own thoughts, silence accompanied them along the way.

A cool evening breeze swept by. Linglong pulled her collar tighter, shrinking into herself. Qin Cheng took note of her movement, hesitated briefly, and asked, “Are you cold?”

“I’m fine,” Linglong replied, her head lowered, never meeting his eyes.

Silence fell again.

“Achoo!” Linglong sneezed, a small sound, quickly muffled behind her hand. Even so, a blush bloomed on her fair face.

“Look, the pretty sister’s blushing!” chirped a nearby child.

“She’s so beautiful—even sneezing looks lovely!”

“That big brother’s so silly, doesn’t even offer her a handkerchief, hehe!”

A group of children giggled together, their smiles pure and innocent as they watched the pair.

Linglong lowered her head further, casting a playful, reproachful glance at the children. Qin Cheng smiled kindly at them.

“Big brother’s shy too, hehe!” The children scampered off, returning to their play.

“It’s getting dark. We should hurry,” Qin Cheng suggested.

Linglong glanced at the sky, then at Qin Cheng, who betrayed no emotion. In a quiet voice, she said, “Let’s sit there for a while. It’s been so long since we sat together, and we’re almost home. There’s no rush.”

She nodded toward a small river not far ahead, where a few willows swayed in the breeze, their bare branches brushing against an old stone bridge.

“Very well,” Qin Cheng replied, glancing at Linglong, the faintest curve appearing at his lips.

They descended the stone steps by the roadside. Linglong reached the riverbank, gathered her blue skirt, and crouched by the water. She reached into the river, gently stirring the clear currents.

What thoughts must stir in the heart of a beauty at play with water?

Qin Cheng stood quietly behind her. After a glance at Linglong, his gaze drifted to the scenery—the ancient charm of this place felt simpler than the tangled thoughts of the young woman before him.

Linglong’s unease was plain today; Qin Cheng could not fail to notice. To others, she was a woman of rare grace, but he harbored no such feelings. He simply waited—for the troubled girl to finally speak her mind. He was certain that, for the Qin Cheng of old, what she would say would be unwelcome news. But for the man he was now, it was different.

Suddenly, a memory of a woman from before he crossed into this world arose—she was even more beautiful than Linglong, a face that could topple kingdoms. Qin Cheng gave a cold, silent laugh.

At last, Linglong spoke.

“Qin Lang,” she called softly, as she always had, “I need your help.”

Qin Cheng looked at the girl who would not turn her head, but said nothing, simply waiting for her to continue.

Linglong waited, but hearing no reply, her heart grew anxious. Qin Cheng was so different today. In the past, upon hearing such words, he’d have eagerly asked what help she needed, always striving to please her, terrified of disappointing her.

Linglong lifted her hand from the river, brushed her cheek with a damp finger, then managed a sorrowful smile—a smile Qin Cheng could not see. But what did it matter? She thought bitterly. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re just an ordinary man. Even if you’ve won some merit in battle, what can it change? At most, you’ll become the leader of a squad, nothing more.

Le Yi had not told her that Qin Cheng was already a squad leader. Nor could she comprehend the weight behind the title “Left Bone Commander of the Xiongnu” that Le Yi had mentioned.

“I know you’ve taken care of me all these years, done so much for me—though often to the opposite effect—but I understand your sincerity.” Linglong knew her next words would wound Qin Cheng deeply, so she tried to soften them. “We were betrothed at three—destined, it seemed, to spend our whole lives together. Even after your parents… my parents’ wishes never changed. But so many years have passed—you’re of age now, yet nothing has changed. I once believed in your vows, but… but now, my mother and father—they cannot bear to see me… so… You understand, don’t you?”

She turned, a single tear slipping down her cheek, only to find not the heartbreak she expected, but Qin Cheng’s calm, indifferent gaze.

Linglong was stunned. Perhaps Qin Cheng hadn’t understood? She bit her lip and called out, her voice hoarse, “Qin Cheng, do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Of course I do,” Qin Cheng replied coolly, watching the tumult of emotions flicker across Linglong’s face.

“What?” Linglong’s tear-filled eyes widened. “You understand?”

“You were quite clear,” he answered, the corner of his mouth twisting in a mocking smile.

Linglong was at a loss for words. Qin Cheng’s reaction was entirely unexpected. She had imagined many outcomes—even that he might threaten his own life—but never that he would accept it with such calm. She was left bewildered.

“So… will you write it?” she asked anxiously at last, fearing he might refuse to write the letter of repudiation. If so, things would be difficult indeed.

“He’ll write it whether he wants to or not—he has no say in this!” Suddenly, a cold voice sounded behind Qin Cheng. “And if he refuses, I’ll make him do it myself!”

Qin Cheng turned to find five people standing behind him, the eldest and youngest in the lead. The older man, in his forties, slightly stout and dressed in fine clothes, his brow lined with wrinkles, regarded Qin Cheng with a complicated expression. From Qin Cheng’s memories, he recognized him as his father-in-law—Linglong’s father, surnamed Xiao.

Beside him stood a young man in his early twenties, his gaze toward Qin Cheng filled with contempt and fury, as if the mere sight of him with Linglong was intolerable. Handsome in a delicate way, he wore an ornate sword at his waist—a mark of noble birth, likely from an official’s household. This was the one who had just spoken, though Qin Cheng did not know him.

The other three appeared to be retainers.

“Father, cousin, what are you doing here?” Linglong exclaimed, her surprise tinged with displeasure.

“It was stuffy indoors, so I took Xiao Lang for a walk. We happened to run into you,” her father explained, then turned to Qin Cheng with a forced smile. “Qin Lang, why aren’t you at the barracks? I heard you were wounded on campaign—is it serious?”

Qin Cheng ignored him, instead stepping toward Linglong’s cousin and asking, “Was it you shouting at me just now?”

The young man, called Xiao Xuanwu, snorted disdainfully, looking down at Qin Cheng. “It was. So what?”

Seeing Qin Cheng disregard him, Linglong's father’s forced smile vanished, replaced by an icy, angry scowl.

“I’d advise you—if you’ve nothing better to do, best crawl back into your mother’s womb, instead of barking like a mad dog in public,” Qin Cheng said coldly. “Frankly, I’ve no patience for mad dogs and wouldn’t mind making the world a quieter place.”

“What did you say?” Xiao Xuanwu stared at Qin Cheng in disbelief, his eyes bulging. How could this supposed good-for-nothing, a lowly guard, dare speak so boldly to him? Shouldn’t such men tremble before him?

“Qin Cheng! How dare you say such vulgar things? Don’t you feel any shame?” Linglong’s father thundered. “And do you even know who Xiao Lang is, to speak so wildly?”

Qin Cheng cast him a cold glance. “Are you lecturing me? Who are you to point fingers at me? Don’t forget—from the moment your daughter spoke those words, there is nothing left between us.”

Linglong’s face went deathly pale. Listening to Qin Cheng’s words, watching his back, she felt suddenly as if she no longer knew him.

“You—” Her father was so furious he could barely speak. “Outrageous! Have you no humanity? You’ve brought shame upon your parents—I’m ashamed for them!”

“Enough!” Qin Cheng cut him off, his eyes boring into the man. “Say one more word, and you won’t even live to regret it!”

Linglong’s father wanted to retort, but the look in Qin Cheng’s eyes choked off the words in his throat. He had never seen such terrifying eyes before, as if a monster lurked within, ready to devour him whole if he made a single wrong move.

It was a strange sensation, but it felt all too real.

Qin Cheng turned back to Linglong, sneering coldly. “A letter of repudiation? I’ll write it for you when I get home. Send someone to collect it.”

With that, he would not linger any longer. He turned to leave. Behind him, Linglong felt her strength drain away, her mind blank, nearly collapsing.

“Insulting your elders and now you think to leave? Far too simple!” Xiao Xuanwu blocked the path, barring Qin Cheng’s way. He was already infuriated at seeing Qin Cheng with Linglong and would not let the slight pass. “Do you take me for nothing?”

Qin Cheng ignored his bluster and advanced straight toward him.

“Master, be careful!” At that moment, a shout rang out. One of Xiao Xuanwu’s retainers sprang forward, shoving his master aside and colliding head-on with Qin Cheng.

Qin Cheng had intended to simply bowl Xiao Xuanwu aside, but the retainer took his place. As the two clashed, Qin Cheng stepped back, bracing himself, while the retainer, though coming from above, was forced back three steps before steadying himself. The winner was clear.

Xiao Xuanwu knew his servant’s abilities well. Seeing this, he realized that Qin Cheng was not the weakling he had been led to believe. But with Linglong watching, he could not back down.

“All of you—get him!” he shouted, clinging to a sliver of hope.

The three retainers, at their master’s command, attacked Qin Cheng from three sides, hoping to subdue him by sheer numbers.

Having forced the first retainer back, Qin Cheng had reached the street. Now, as the three came at him, he took care not to aggravate his wound, but was confident he could handle them.

“Stop! Don’t fight!” Linglong ran after them, her voice breaking with tears. She knew of Qin Cheng’s injury and was certain he could not withstand the three combined. “Cousin, make them stop! Let Qin Cheng go this once!”

The retainers hesitated, glancing at Xiao Xuanwu, who, seeing Linglong’s plea, was about to relent—until he looked at the scene and froze.

Though the retainers had stopped, Qin Cheng hadn’t. He moved in, faster than before, and landed a punch on the rightmost servant.

How amusing—why should I stop for you?

Victory is the only truth.

Years spent fighting in underground rings and the criminal world before he crossed over—Qin Cheng knew what it took.

The first retainer, still looking toward Xiao Xuanwu, was caught off guard. He took the full blow, let out a scream, and crashed to the ground, a trail of blood arcing through the air.

The other two, though startled by Qin Cheng’s relentless attack, were not ordinary men. As the first fell, they charged together.

They were close—two strides and they were upon him. The nearer one kicked for Qin Cheng’s head.

Qin Cheng raised his arm to block, but before their legs touched, the attacker feinted, driving his knee toward Qin Cheng’s chest instead.

Qin Cheng smirked inwardly, shifted, and brought his elbow down on the man’s thigh.

The retainer cried out, lost his balance, and crashed headlong to the ground, blood streaming from his head.

Even as he fell, the third man—the one who’d already collided with Qin Cheng—launched a flying kick.

Qin Cheng sidestepped; the foot swept past his nose. Before the man could land, Qin Cheng grabbed his collar from behind, yanked him down, and slammed him to the ground.

The man tried to recover, flipping his feet backward to kick at Qin Cheng’s face.

With barely any space, Qin Cheng caught both feet, kicked the man in the chest, then hauled him up and slammed him down face-first, stomping hard on his back.

A sickening crack sounded; the man’s shoulder caved in.

Having dispatched all three, Qin Cheng dusted his hands, shot a cold glare at the pale-faced Linglong and her family, paused, then declared proudly, “The eyes of dogs see only what they want. Perhaps you don’t know—the river runs east for thirty years, then west for thirty more. Even a so-called good-for-nothing like me, Qin Cheng, can decide your life and death today!”

A murderous aura radiated from him. Not one of his adversaries doubted his threat.

By now, night had fallen; lamps blazed throughout Qiansang City.

“There you are, Qin Cheng,” Le Yi called, running up. He saw two men struggling to rise, another being helped, Linglong and her father pale with shock, and a refined young man glaring at Qin Cheng with fear and rage. “What’s happened here? Uncle Xiao, greetings.”

“Ah! Le Yi—you’re here, just in time! You must see to Qin Cheng—he’s acting… rather strange…” Linglong’s father, seeing Le Yi, clung to him like a lifeline, forcing a smile.

Qin Cheng paid them no heed, turning away. “Send for the letter tomorrow. I’m not a man who can’t let go. I only hope the one you choose is truly better than me!”

With that, he ignored them, beckoning Le Yi to follow.

Xiao Xuanwu ground his teeth, glaring at Qin Cheng’s back, then at his own useless servants. But the merchant’s nature in him held his anger in check.

Even Le Yi, no fool, grasped most of what had happened from Qin Cheng’s final words. He shot Linglong a cold glance, snorted, and hurried after Qin Cheng.

As Qin Cheng and Le Yi’s figures receded, Linglong’s tears finally spilled over.

“Linglong, that Qin Cheng—” her father began, only to find Linglong glaring at him.

“You promised to let me speak with him—why did you interfere?!”

With that, she ran off in tears, her shadow shifting in the flickering lamplight of the crowded street.