Green Dragon Totem - Chapter 1: Nu'er Hong
The fierce wind howled as yellow sand filled the sky.
The young boy had lost count of how many times he had climbed back up from the ground.
Severe dehydration left him dizzy. His knees and palms were a bloody mess, and large blisters had formed on his feet from the scorching sand. Ahead, the endless dunes rolled with scorching heat waves. In the distance, a storm was rising on the horizon, sweeping towards the center of the desert at a speed visible to the naked eye.
“Master…” The boy stumbled forward, his voice a hoarse scream.
“Wait for me, wait for me… Master!”
With a dull thud, the boy fell to the ground again. The intense pain almost knocked him unconscious.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but the wind grew fiercer and fiercer. Finally, a figure appeared from ahead and stopped before him.
“… Master…” The boy struggled to plead humbly, “Don’t leave me, please, Master…”
The figure stood against the light, making it hard to see his face clearly. Only the slender, upright form wrapped in a coarse white cloak was visible. After a long silence, the figure finally spoke:
“Who is your master?”
— The voice was surprisingly young, carrying a familiar indifference and casualness.
The boy shook his head in despair, letting out a pained, dying gasp like a young wolf cornered. He made one last effort to reach out to the figure.
But in the next moment, his bloodied hand was stomped into the ground. The searing pain hit him like a lightning strike, and the boy let out a scream before falling silent. The person in front of him drew a sword with a clang, plunging it into the sand beside the boy’s face!
“Ah!”
The boy’s cry came to an abrupt halt. He looked up to see the person bending down, the light finally outlining a face as beautiful as a woman’s, strikingly handsome and flawless.
The boy croaked, “Master…”
But the person raised a finger, silencing him with a simple gesture. Then, he slowly turned the blade, until the cold edge reflected the boy’s face, smeared with blood and tears.
“The people of Jin say that the star Douniu often emits a purple aura, symbolizing twin swords piercing the sky, one called Taie, the other Longyuan…”
The man pulled the sword from the sand and pointed it at the boy beneath him. Under the blazing sun, a mocking smile appeared on his lips:
“The one who will kill you today is Longyuan.”
The boy’s pupils contracted sharply. In the next moment, the sword was thrust towards him with a murderous intent that seemed to pierce his very soul. He couldn’t help but cry out, “Ah—”
“—Ah!”
Shan Chao sat up abruptly, his chest heaving. It took a while for his tense muscles to finally relax.
Moonlight streamed through the wooden window, highlighting his bare, muscular back and the short hair drenched in sweat, casting a shadow on the grey floor of the meditation room. All was silent around him, save for the sounds of insects chirping in the late summer night and the murmur of flowing water from the courtyard behind the temple. Apart from that, the deep night was quiet, without any other noise.
He’d had that dream again.
Shan Chao turned his head, panting. Sure enough, the Longyuan sword leaning against the bedside was trembling, as if eager to break free from its sheath.
Since arriving at Ci’en Temple two years ago, Shan Chao had often had dreams like this. In them, he was in the desert frontier, living with a young man whose face he could never quite see, but whom he called Master. Sometimes they practiced martial arts, sometimes they hunted, and sometimes they led camels through the endless sand. But the scene that repeated the most was him kneeling at that young man’s feet, begging in vain, only to be met with a sword striking down at him.
Who was that young man?
No matter how hard he tried, Shan Chao couldn’t remember.
His memory began two years ago when he was found, covered in blood, at the back gate of Ci’en Temple and was saved by Master Zhiyuan, who took him in as a disciple. Later, Master Zhiyuan said that when the monks found him, he was covered in yellow sand, his body mangled, and he was gripping a precious sword with a white sharkskin sheath.
— The Seven-Star(Qixing) Longyuan.
And all the events before that were shattered fragments, haunting him like a curse every night, repeating endlessly.
Shan Chao let out a long breath, placing his hand on Longyuan. After a moment, the sword’s mournful cry finally calmed under his broad, strong palm.
Outside the window, the sky was clear and the night was deep, but Shan Chao was wide awake. He threw on his black monk’s robe, casually pushed open the door, and walked out of the meditation room. The secluded path, shrouded in flowers and trees, led all the way to the towering temple under the moonlight. Farther away, the districts of Chang’an had long since closed, and the distant sound of the watchman’s cry echoed through the long streets.
In the night sky, the Big Dipper was shining faintly, just like the seven-star sequence on the Longyuan sword.
Shan Chao closed his eyes. The light in his mind gradually transformed into scorching sand, a blazing sun, a snow-white blade, and that gentle yet cruel smile, as delicate as a girl’s.
— Who exactly was the person in his dream?
Meanwhile, in Chang’an, at the residence of the Vice Minister of the Central Secretariat.
A stunning songstress had just finished her dance, bowing low. Her long, flowing sleeves fell like layers of petals, and applause immediately erupted around her. “Bravo!”
Although it was nearly midnight, the banquet was still lively with exquisite food and fine wine. Silk flowers and birds adorned the hall, glowing brilliantly under the lantern light, and the dancer, rising gracefully, was like the most radiant and delicate peony in the garden.
Yu Zhongning, Vice Minister of the Central Secretariat, smiled as he stood up, signaling a maid to bring a cup of fine wine to the songstress. He then turned to the guest of honor and said with a wide smile, “Commander Xie, this girl’s name is Luyao. She was adopted as a goddaughter by one of my relatives. Though she was quite plain as a child, she did receive some training in dance and music.”
He paused, observing that the young man at the head of the table still wore a faint smile, showing no displeasure, and he relaxed a little:
“This girl has always admired your reputation, Commander Xie, and volunteered to perform for you. If she has caught your eye at all, I will have her present this cup of ‘Nu’er Hong’ wine, buried for eighteen years — would you honor her with this favor?”
The guests clapped and laughed, making the scene even more lively.
The young man at the head of the table also seemed amused. Leisurely, he said, “In the southern land, there are beauties who dance lightly like Luyao… Rare indeed.”
His voice was pleasant, and even in such a noisy environment, it had a penetrating quality that struck straight to the heart.
Luyao’s expression shifted slightly, and she heard him say again, “Raise your head.”
Luyao slowly lifted her head.
Her mind should have been full of thoughts, but in that instant, her first impression was: handsome.
The rumors about Xie Yun, the fearsome Commander of the Imperial Guards, were nothing like what she saw in front of her.
Dressed in a silver-edged brocade robe, with a jade belt around his waist and white boots on his feet, he leaned lazily against the table. Yet, one could still see his straight back, broad shoulders, and long legs. His elegant bearing was markedly different from the other officials at the banquet.
The only thing that matched the rumors was the exquisitely carved silver mask covering most of his face, including his eyes. But even so, the sight of his well-defined lips, curved in a gentle smile, and his fair, slender neck, stirred a strange, instinctive attraction.
Luyao’s heart sank. She had always been aware of her beauty. To her, it was like a bow on the back of a general or a sword in the hand of a hero, a weapon that was invincible and could help her achieve any goal.
But now, all the schemes she had carefully planned for tonight suddenly seemed uncertain.
At the sight of that smile, a sense of unease gripped her heart, though she didn’t know why.
“This girl is indeed a beauty.”
Xie Yun seemed completely unaware and even turned to praise Yu Zhongning, who hastily replied, “Not at all, not at all. It’s this girl’s fortune to have caught the eye of the Commander.” After exchanging a few words, Xie Yun turned to Luyao, casually beckoning with a wave of his hand, “—Come here.”
There was no hint of flirtation or familiarity in those two short words, not even the slightest trace of interest in a woman. If one listened carefully, the tone seemed almost indifferent.
Luyao bit her lip, stood up with a wine cup, and walked forward. However, within her heart, countless thoughts churned in an instant, and she finally made up her mind.
On her way from the waterside pavilion to the banquet, she had to step up three stairs. On the first step, her delicate step faltered, and the thin, wing-like gauze on her shoulder slipped off, revealing a large expanse of fair skin from her neck to her shoulders and back; on the second step, her golden hairpin shook loose, and her cloud-like dark hair cascaded down, making her glow brilliantly under the lantern light; on the third step, she stopped in front of Xie Yun, deeply bowing amidst the exclamations and envy of the surrounding guests. The green bodice and golden dancing skirt highlighted the exquisite curve of her snow-white bosom even more.
She looked at Xie Yun, her eyes seductive, provocative, and bold:
“I have long admired you, my lord. It is a great honor to see you today.”
“Please, my lord, honor me by drinking this cup!”
Xie Yun’s eyes behind the mask seemed to be staring at her with interest. After a moment, the corners of his beautiful lips curved into a deeper smile.
He reached out to take the luminous wine cup—his hand was slender, slender, and fair, with slightly prominent knuckles from martial arts training, but it did not detract from its elegant appearance; at the same time, his movements were very polite, leisurely taking the cup from her delicate hand without touching her skin in the slightest.
There was nothing about these young, graceful hands that suggested a connection to the phrase “sober, wielding the killing sword; drunk, reclining on a beauty’s knee.”
“Nü’er Hong (Daughter Red),” Xie Yun carefully examined the clear liquid in the precious luminous cup, but after a while, he showed no intention of drinking it. He seemed completely oblivious to the slight change in expressions of Yu Zhongning and Luyao below. Suddenly, he turned his head and instructed the subordinate behind him:
“Bring a silver needle.”
Luyao’s expression changed drastically.
She glanced at Yu Zhongning, who gave the faintest nod—
There was no other choice now; the plan must be revealed.
Steeling her resolve, Luyao drew a short dagger from her bosom and shouted fiercely, “Prepare to die!”
Everything happened in an instant. Before her voice had even faded, the blade was already flashing towards Xie Yun’s chest, its edge gleaming with a deadly blue hue, indicating it had been coated with a potent poison!
No one could react in time; even Xie Yun’s men behind him were too slow to move. In a split second, the dagger was already at his robe, needing only half an inch more to pierce his body—yet at that moment, everything froze.
Xie Yun’s three fingers pinched Luyao’s jade-like wrist, looking so relaxed that there didn’t even seem to be the slightest exertion.
Immediately, Luyao felt a torrent of internal energy overwhelming her like a flood. Her mind went blank, blood gushed from her mouth, and she was sent flying through the air, crashing down more than ten feet away!
Crash!
Luyao fell heavily, knocking over several small tables, sending cups, plates, and chopsticks clattering to the ground!
“What’s going on? What happened?” “Assassin!” “Ah, someone, someone, help!”
The guests rose in panic. Gritting his teeth, Yu Zhongning decisively pointed at Luyao and shouted, “This woman dared to attack! Seize her!”
The servants, already prepared, immediately rushed out from the back hall, all wielding wooden sticks, charging at Luyao with murderous intent. It was clear they intended to silence her. However, amidst the chaos, no one noticed or could stop it; just as the lead servant was about to bring down his stick, Xie Yun nonchalantly splashed the poisoned wine from the luminous cup—the movement was unhurried and relaxed, then he casually flung his white satin cloak over his shoulders.
The cloak whistled through the air, forcefully pushing back everyone it touched. Several servants at the front were forced to drop their sticks.
The cloak then gently fell over Luyao’s disheveled and barely-covered body, shielding her.
Silence fell over the banquet. The only sound was Xie Yun’s men drawing their swords, shouting angrily, “Guards!”
Footsteps echoed around the waterside pavilion, and soon the doors and windows burst open. Dozens of guards with swords and spears surrounded the banquet tightly.
All the guests were terrified, some even collapsing to their knees in fear. Yu Zhongning knew then that things had gone terribly wrong, but as a core member of the Crown Prince’s faction, he managed to remain somewhat composed: “Stay calm! Everyone, be calm! Commander Xie is unharmed, yes? Quickly, escort the distinguished guests to rest and seize this woman…”
Xie Yun interrupted him with a smile, “No need to rush, Lord Yu.”
He stood up, walked around the banquet table, and, under everyone’s gaze, descended the jade steps and stopped in front of Luyao.
The atmosphere was tense; only the panicked, rapid breathing of those present broke the silence. Xie Yun looked down at her from above and asked, “Why did you try to kill me?”
Luyao coughed up another mouthful of blood, her voice filled with hatred: “Do I need a reason to kill you? I despise scoundrels like you who bully the weak—”
Xie Yun said indifferently, “Nonsense.”
The contempt in his voice pierced her heart like needles.
“You…” Luyao’s fingers convulsed, clawing at the ground in hatred. After a long pause, she finally couldn’t hold back and cursed, “You treacherous minister! How dare you ask why? With Empress Wu wielding power and usurping authority, scoundrels like you assist her in persecuting loyalists! My family was once full of loyal and brave men—”
That was enough for Xie Yun to understand.
He turned to leave, not looking back as he said, “Take her away and interrogate her accomplices. Make sure she doesn’t take her own life. Seal off the Yu residence; no one is allowed to enter or leave. I will report to the Empress tomorrow and conduct a search.”
The guards responded in unison, “Yes!”
Yu Zhongning finally collapsed to the ground, trembling uncontrollably, looking as though he had aged ten years in an instant, unable to utter a single word.
Xie Yun strode out of the residence. The gate was brightly lit, and the entire mansion was already surrounded by Imperial Guards. Several trusted guards stood by the carriage, and as he approached, one immediately presented a brocade box: “Commander, we have it.”
The brocade box was about the size of a hand, finely crafted with gold and silver embroidery, with a small “Liu” character stamped on the corner—a mark indicating the property of a wealthy family. Xie Yun opened it and glanced inside, seeing a pure white, exotic flower. As soon as the lid was lifted, a refreshing fragrance filled the air.
The guard whispered, “This flower is said to cure all poisons and has miraculous effects in saving lives. The Liu family hid it in a secret room. A few brothers and I…”
Xie Yun raised his hand to silence him, then put away the box and boarded the carriage without a word.
It was already past the third watch. Chang’an was under curfew, and even the streets were deserted. Every household had closed their doors and windows, and the city was silent, with only a crescent moon reflecting cold light on the stone-paved streets.
The horse hooves clattered as the carriage moved through the streets. Inside, Xie Yun sat with his eyes closed, as if dozing or deep in thought. After a while, the carriage turned a corner, and suddenly he opened his eyes and asked, “Where are we?”
The guard, Ma Xin, outside the carriage replied, “Commander, we have passed Zhongzheng Street. Ci’en Temple is just ahead.”
Ci’en Temple.
Xie Yun lifted the curtain and glanced outside habitually.
Suddenly, his movement stopped.
The tall gate of Ci’en Temple loomed ahead, its carved beams and painted pillars standing majestically in the night. The seven-tiered steps led straight to the wide street. At the bottom of the steps sat a monk in black robes. Seeing the carriage approach, he got up and retreated into the temple.
In that instant, their eyes met.
Shan Chao’s handsome face flashed with slight surprise—while Xie Yun lowered his gaze, his fingers dropping the curtain.
The carriage continued forward but stopped abruptly after a few steps. There was a commotion outside, followed by the coachman’s angry shout:
“Who goes there! Why are you blocking the road in the dead of night? Step aside at once!”
The horse neighed, breaking the silence of the night. There were a few words of dispute outside, and soon after, the sound of the guard’s footsteps approached the carriage window. Ma Xin stopped outside, leaned close to the curtain, and whispered, “Commander, there’s a monk with a sword blocking the road ahead. What should we do?”
——He did not hear the soft sigh that Xie Yun let out.
The sound was almost inaudible, dissipating into the quiet, empty streets of Chang’an.
The noise outside gradually quieted down, not because the situation was resolved, but because both sides had entered an even more intense and strange standoff. Even from inside the carriage, one could feel the tension in the air. Xie Yun watched the shadows flickering under the candlelight when suddenly, a clear and calm male voice sounded from the front of the carriage:
“This humble monk’s name is Xinchao. Meeting you in the dead of night, you seem vaguely familiar, like an old acquaintance.”
“Since fate has brought us together, would you honor me by stepping out to have a word?”
These words were incredibly bold. The imperial guards around were immediately filled with anger. Just as Ma Xin was about to drive away this clueless monk, Xie Yun’s leisurely voice came from inside the carriage:
“Xinchao…”
As soon as the word left his lips, the guards around him straightened their expressions, and even Shan Chao, who stood further away on the road, felt a chill in his heart.
“According to the law of our dynasty, when encountering an official of the fifth rank or above on the road, monks must step aside. Otherwise, it is a serious offense.”
Xie Yun stared at the tightly closed carriage door ahead, his tone carrying a hint of a calm and even gentle smile:
“—Monk, do you know who I am, and yet dare to speak of fate with me?”