A Different World - Chapter 9: Sword Dance
Four years ago, Ye Yin and Ye Chang’an ultimately decided to stay in Qiong Mountain. However, the little money they had left was abandoned in a shabby carriage in Jianzhou City. When they went back to retrieve it, even the old horse was gone.
Initially, some knights and commoners came up the mountain, but Ye Yin, suspecting there might be ill-intentioned individuals among them, turned them all away.
Still, Ye Yin’s decision to establish Zheyuelou was not just to provide a refuge for himself and Chang’an. He needed a legitimate reason and an undisturbed place to cultivate his own forces. Therefore, those joining Zheyuelou had to be of clean background and without burdens or ties.
As a result, the current inhabitants of Zheyuelou were all orphans who had been displaced and separated from their families due to war, floods, or locust plagues in recent years. Zheyuelou offered them a place to settle and guaranteed their future sustenance. These children, having wandered without security, naturally pledged their loyalty in exchange for a chance at peace.
After Ye Yin and Ye Chang’an brought back Jiang Yunxiu, the management of Zheyuelou was handed over to him. Occasionally, when Ye Yin was feeling well, he would offer guidance to the children.
They selected a group of plain-looking children to specialize in light-footed movement and concealment techniques. Disguised, these individuals roamed the world, gathering intelligence from various places.
With Zheyuelou now holding these pieces of information, they openly declared their willingness to trade them. Gradually, buyers came to purchase their intelligence.
However, there were always some who lacked sense, refusing to negotiate peacefully and resorting to threats of violence. Before these brash individuals could “teach Zheyuelou a lesson,” they were personally thrown out by disciples trained by Jiang Yunxiu.
These were lethal moves honed on the battlefield, not flowery or showy techniques. When these arrogant troublemakers were tossed out of the mountain gate, there wasn’t a single unscathed patch of skin on them.
They made renovations based on the former stronghold of the Chiyue Sect. The front courtyard was used for receiving guests, a new secret archive was constructed for storing intelligence, and a small patch of land was fenced off to grow rice, vegetables, and fruits.
Ye Yin was not someone who enjoyed solitude, but for the sake of his health, Jiang Yunxiu had set up a small courtyard for him alone in the rear mountain. Following Ye Yin’s lead, Ye Chang’an took up gardening, slowly transforming the once-empty courtyard into a place full of life.
Walking along the stone path in the courtyard, they escorted Ye Yin back to his room to rest. Ye Chang’an promptly brought over the medicinal decoction and handed it to him.
Sensing the moment, Jiang Yunxiu said, “Master, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”
Ye Yin frowned at the bitter smell of the medicine and nodded, “Go ahead.”
Noticing that the medicine smelled different, Ye Yin asked, “When did Divine Physician Zuo change the formula?”
Ye Chang’an, equally puzzled, leaned closer to sniff but couldn’t discern anything. Just as he turned to find Zuo Qingchuan for an explanation, the latter happened to knock and enter.
Zuo Qingchuan approached and explained, “The poison in your body is becoming fiercer, so I naturally had to increase the dosage. I’ve just changed the prescription today. After taking it, you might feel warm and drowsy. Don’t worry too much; rest for a while, and I’ll come to check your pulse later.”
Clearly, the latter part of his statement was directed at Ye Chang’an, who tended to fret excessively when Ye Yin showed signs of discomfort.
Ye Yin’s expression remained unchanged. He had long been aware of his deteriorating health. Tilting his head back, he drank the bitter concoction in one go, coughing violently for a moment before his chest felt somewhat relieved.
“Is it very bitter?” Ye Chang’an frowned as well, as if he himself had tasted the medicine’s bitterness.
Seeing Chang’an’s expression of deep anguish, Ye Yin couldn’t help but laugh, his mood visibly lightened. Picking up a stick of candied hawthorn from the side, he said with a smile, “Luckily, you brought this.”
Zuo Qingchuan glanced at Ye Chang’an and casually teased, “How about I brew an extra bowl next time, so you can drink it with him?”
To his surprise, Ye Chang’an nodded seriously. “Alright.”
He didn’t know what kind of pain Ye Yin endured, but if given the chance, he wouldn’t mind sharing it.
Zuo Qingchuan smirked and muttered, “Fool,” before striding out of the room.
After drinking the medicine, Ye Yin lazily reclined in the courtyard. Ye Chang’an carefully draped a blanket over him, then stood under the pear tree with his sword in hand.
Sunlight filtered through the fresh spring leaves, casting dappled shadows on the damp patches of ground, creating a kaleidoscope of reflections.
Ye Chang’an raised his wrist, drawing his sword in a swift motion that cut through the wind. The blade’s cold edge swept forward, tracing a sharp, radiant arc. The nearby pear tree, startled by the movement, released a shower of white blossoms. Undeterred, Ye Chang’an continued his swordplay, his brows lifting slightly as he leapt into the air. With graceful agility, he moved like a swallow and a swimming dragon.
Jiang Yunxiu, returning from the front courtyard, was greeted by a ground covered in petals. He was momentarily speechless. “I just swept the courtyard this morning…”
Hearing his voice, Ye Chang’an sheathed his sword and first looked toward the reclining chair in the corridor. Seeing that Ye Yin had quietly fallen asleep at some point, he placed a finger to his lips and shushed softly, saying, “I’ll clean it up.”
Jiang Yunxiu glanced over and lowered his voice as well, “If the petals fall, so be it. Pick some clean ones, and later we can make pear blossom wine.”
Ye Chang’an silently nodded, walked quietly over to Ye Yin’s side, and plucked the petals from his shoulder, smiling sincerely.
They carefully collected five baskets of petals and carried them out of the courtyard. Finding themselves short-handed, they dragged Zuo Qingchuan, who was dozing off in the pharmacy, to help.
Zuo Qingchuan, yawning as he washed the petals, grumbled with dissatisfaction, “The people down the mountain call me a divine physician, yet you have me doing this?”
Jiang Yunxiu steamed a large batch of glutinous rice, spread it out to cool, and dissolved the fermentation starter. As he worked, memories of his time in the military camp surfaced.
He sighed nostalgically, “They always said the master’s father excelled in commanding troops, but the brothers in the camp all knew that the general’s wine-making skills were just as remarkable. Back then, the master was still young. Once, he secretly drank some of the general’s wine, found it delicious, and unknowingly finished three jars. By the time the general discovered him, he had already passed out and didn’t wake up for two days and nights.”
The military discipline in the General of State’s residence was strict, yet the soldiers treated each other like brothers, always looking out for one another. They once steamed rice and brewed wine together, dreaming of a day when the world would be at peace, and they could leave the battlefield behind.
Recalling those days, Jiang Yunxiu’s face softened with a smile, though it was tinged with deep regret at how things had changed.
Ye Chang’an, scrubbing the wine jar nearby, listened intently to the story about Ye Yin’s past. It was something Ye Yin had never mentioned to him before.
Zuo Qingchuan rarely inquired about Ye Yin and Ye Chang’an’s personal lives, focusing entirely on the poison in Ye Yin’s body. Hearing Jiang Yunxiu’s tale, however, he couldn’t help but feel curious.
Turning to Ye Chang’an, he asked, “So, you’re not brothers? You don’t know anything about his family? That’s odd. I always thought your mother must’ve been biased—your name sounds so much more careless compared to his.”
“It’s not careless,” Ye Chang’an retorted instinctively, firmly expressing his fondness for his name. “We’re not brothers. Ye Yin is my benefactor, and ‘Chang’an’ is the courtesy name he gave me.”
Zuo Qingchuan pursed his lips. Even if it was a name given by Ye Yin, it still sounded rather perfunctory.
He asked again, “Since you’re not brothers, why did you take his surname? What, in life you’re his person, and in death, his family’s ghost?”
Ye Chang’an’s expression darkened slightly as he responded in a low voice, “Because I want to. It’s none of your business.”
Indeed, Ye Yin had never asked him to take his surname. It was Ye Chang’an’s own choice. Not knowing where he came from, he simply wanted to follow Ye Yin, to let his drifting life, like a rootless duckweed, have a place to belong.
But he realized he had never asked Ye Yin whether he minded this decision.
Zuo Qingchuan stared at Ye Chang’an for a long time. He had treated the boy’s head injury, and though the wound had mostly healed, Ye Chang’an still hadn’t remembered his past. Perhaps it wasn’t a matter of physical injury but rather a deep psychological trauma, one he wasn’t ready to confront.
As a physician, Zuo Qingchuan wasn’t skilled in untangling emotional knots. Matters of the heart required resolution by those involved.
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Thank you for reading!