Volume One: The Hidden Dragon in the Abyss Chapter 89: Deep Affection

"What kind of person is the Lord of Jin?" Wang Chuan had once asked Tian Xingzi the same question.

"The valley is already deep and secluded, and when the mist rises, it's even harder to see clearly," Tian Xingzi replied. "A person's fate and fortune can actually be seen before they are born. Even before the mother conceives, by observing the parents, it's not difficult to predict what will become of their child."

"But sometimes, fate can change. Sometimes it's deliberate, but other times, certain encounters make things different."

Wang Chuan had dabbled a little in such arts himself, so he easily understood. He pressed further, "You mean the Lord of Jin's fate has changed?"

"Though I'm not entirely sure, it does seem that way," Tian Xingzi said, glancing back. "His destiny is increasingly obscured from me, and the dragon energy around him grows ever denser."

"Then something significant must be about to happen," Wang Chuan remarked, for he too had such a premonition.

After letting Tian Xingzi go on his way, Wang Chuan wandered the city with Xu Wei, strolling wherever their feet took them.

Yang City boasted remarkably convenient transportation, with carriages and horses coming and going, and throngs of people moving in waves.

The myriad intersecting streets wove together the city’s lively scene. On both sides stood all sorts of shops—some hawking silks and satin, others displaying jade and pearl ornaments, and still others, in rows of a dozen or more, offering rouge and powder, shawls, embroidered ribbons, and even bodices for women, all boldly on display. Xu Wei blushed at the sight, stealing a glance at Wang Chuan for reasons she herself could not explain.

"Is there nothing you like?" Wang Chuan asked with a smile.

Xu Wei grew flustered. "What about you, Brother Chuan?"

He glanced up at the brilliant embroidery shining in the sunlight. "Those are for ladies. As for our own attire, the palace takes care of it, or Yang Hao arranges things. We're not lacking for anything, so if you see something you want, just take it."

They walked on.

Teahouses and taverns of every size were dotted like stars along the streets, and travelers and merchants from afar passed by now and then.

The bustling crowds flowed through the avenues and alleys; cries of vendors, haggling voices, street performers' singing, storytellers' tales, laughter and cheers of onlookers—all merging into a single lively chorus.

The horse-drawn carriages hurried along, and the pace of the pedestrians was noticeably quicker than elsewhere, lending the city an air of vigorous vitality.

Groups of young maidens fluttered in and out of shops, picking out their favorite wares. Matrons clustered in groups of three or five—a rare sight in other places.

Some noticed this handsome pair and occasionally pointed or whispered, making Xu Wei increasingly bashful. She gripped Wang Chuan's hand tighter and eventually hid behind him.

After Wang Chuan bought two sticks of candied hawthorn, Xu Wei’s delight returned, and she ceased to mind others’ gazes.

"Today, in fact, my father wanted me to meet other young ladies—talented and beautiful as they were, I found none to my liking. I told him I wanted only you, Wei'er, and thankfully he agreed," Wang Chuan said to her. "Tomorrow, after the morning court, discussions with the Ministry of Rites will be complete, and the official letter to your father will be sent. Once the auspicious date is chosen, you’ll be brought over."

Xu Wei lowered her head. "But I’m already here."

"I forgot to mention, everything was arranged before I brought you here. Your mother knows as well," Wang Chuan smiled. "An empty bridal sedan will be sent over, and when it arrives, you’ll wait outside the city and quietly slip inside."

"So that's how it is," Xu Wei murmured, her voice growing softer.

Wang Chuan looked at her, his gaze gentle and adoring.

Her skin was as white as snow, her brows as if painted. Her black hair cascaded down her neck like a waterfall—truly peerless elegance, beyond the reach of brush or ink.

"Brother Chuan, let’s go see what's ahead!" Xu Wei suddenly exclaimed, seizing his hand and darting forward with renewed interest.

Only then did he realize she had pulled him into a weapon shop.

He himself had no great requirements for weapons; as long as they felt right in the hand, that was enough.

But, truth be told, he seldom used weapons at all.

Beside the road stood a stone house, with a bamboo pole raised high at the entrance and a sign fluttering in the wind: "Guo's Blacksmith Shop" was written in bold strokes.

Xu Wei, excited, dragged him inside. An assortment of weapons lay haphazardly on a long table, while the shopkeeper sat behind the counter, watching them coldly without greeting the customers—there seemed to be no other assistants.

Xu Wei picked up a longsword, swung it twice, and asked gleefully, "How is it?"

It gleamed all over, the blade sharp and the grain beautifully regular.

She really knew nothing of such things, so innocent to the ways of the world.

Wang Chuan could not help but smile wryly.

She liked it, and there was no harm in playing with it, as long as she didn’t hurt herself.

He decided to encourage her.

With a glance, he could tell the sword’s quality, but he wanted Xu Wei to learn more.

He lightly flicked the blade; a clear, crisp note rang out. He nodded approvingly. "A fine sword!"

Xu Wei's eyes widened as if she had grasped the secret. She imitated him, carefully flicking the blade with her little finger.

The sword sang again, but it sounded subtly different from before. There was something about the sound she couldn't quite place—it just seemed off.

She looked at Wang Chuan, puzzled.

He covered his face in resignation—there was nothing more he could do.

"This sword may not slice through gold or jade, but its craftsmanship is meticulous and rare. Best of all, it’s light and agile—perfect for you. Wei’er, you have quite the discerning eye," he praised.

Xu Wei blushed with pleasure, clearly delighted. "Then you should pick one too, Brother!"

"Alright. You help me choose," Wang Chuan nodded.

For him, picking a leaf or a flower was as good as any weapon.

"Why do hands fit for embroidery and calligraphy always yearn for swords and spears?" the shopkeeper spoke up just then.

His face was deeply lined and gaunt with age, his manner listless. Their hands, slender and fair, soft and uncalloused, marked them as strangers to manual labor.

"Aren’t you a blacksmith? Isn't it good for us to give you business?" Xu Wei asked, blinking her large eyes in confusion.

The old man snorted softly. "If no one comes to buy swords, I’d just forge hoes and plows—I wouldn’t starve."

"You’re a man of character, sir. But even in peaceful times, we mustn’t lay aside our arms for good," Wang Chuan replied. "Our families once rode to war together; such skills must not be forgotten."

Xu Wei picked a sword for him as well. He tried it out; it would suffice.

He wrapped her sword carefully in a soft cloth.

"If possible, don’t go to war again. Ordinary folk have no choice, but you gentry are different," the shopkeeper said to them.

Common people couldn’t avoid conscription or muster the money to buy exemption.

Noticing their distinguished air, he knew they weren’t just commoners.

"Uncle, what about your family?" Xu Wei asked, curious.

"My two sons died not long ago in the recent rebellion," the old man replied.

"Rebellion?" Xu Wei exclaimed in shock.

The shopkeeper sighed. "Both were soldiers in Yicheng on the northern border, once under the Marquis of Martial Valor. The garrison commander was bribed by the barbarians and planned to defect. The Marquis led troops to suppress the revolt, and though the rebels have been dealt with, my sons... Alas! They died without reason, mistaken for traitors, though they were honest men."

"That’s truly unjust," Xu Wei said, glancing back at Wang Chuan.

"In these times, right and wrong are not so easily distinguished," Wang Chuan said.

"Why would our Han people turn to the barbarians?" Xu Wei asked.

"Barbarians? The northern tribes are now strong; after uniting the steppe, their army numbers over a million. Who knows when they’ll invade? The northern frontier has just fifty thousand soldiers. Even with Wei’s forces, there are less than two hundred thousand. Resisting the steppe tribes is impossible. I’ve heard merchants have already fled, and as for the common folk left behind, who knows what fate awaits them," the shopkeeper said, his tone heavy. "The steppe tribes will inevitably march south; a great battle is coming. The Lord of Jin is still consolidating power, seeking to unite the Central Plains. We Han people can also muster a million archers, but the steppe tribes have already united, and the states still wage their own wars."

"Long division must give way to unity, and unity to division. Things will improve in time," said Wang Chuan.

They returned to the residence.

Xu Wei, who had earlier wanted to practice martial arts, now lost interest.

"Brother Chuan, I miss my mother," she said gloomily, leaning on the window.

"Are you bored here?" Wang Chuan asked.

"A little. Before, if I was bored, I could find my mother," Xu Wei replied. "Did you use to miss your mother, Brother?"

"I can't really recall. I don’t have those feelings anymore. If you write her a letter, I can get it to her quickly," Wang Chuan said, pulling her gently into his arms. He gazed at her intently, then kissed her lips.

"How quickly?" Xu Wei smiled with pursed lips.

"Very quickly—not even the time it takes to burn an incense stick," Wang Chuan replied. "Wei’er, you’re beautiful."

With Wang Chuan’s cultivation, he could easily see what anyone was doing, even thousands of miles away. But he had never done so—it would go against the natural order.

"Naughty," Xu Wei murmured sweetly, not resisting as she pressed closer to him.

"You smell so good," Wang Chuan said with a smile.

Heaven gives birth to all things, but none is more precious than man. Of all man's desires, none surpasses the pursuit of pleasure. Those who understand the ways of heaven and earth, who grasp the balance of yin and yang, may cultivate themselves and prolong their lives.

Wang Chuan lifted her onto the bed. The young maiden’s expression was enchanting, yet she lay docilely on the soft couch, gazing up at him with infinite shyness.

As Wang Chuan reached to undo her clothing, she only bashfully grasped his hand for a moment, then let go.

Her slender hands were gently drawn aside; her lashes fluttered shut, and she murmured in half-dreamed whispers.

Her delicate face, already peerless in beauty, now glowed even more radiant and tender after their intimacy, appearing rounder and more refined.

Her willow waist was slender, supple and smooth as jade, her skin fragrant and soft to the touch—so fair it made one's heart race.

She was so enchanting that his eyes could not leave her. Her dazed, intoxicated gaze made her all the more shy, yet perfectly content.

Her cheeks were tinged with spring, her delicate body trembling lightly, shyness and affection evident as their eyes met.

...

Later, Xu Wei nestled in his arms, lazily turning over. "Brother Chuan, I’m sleepy."

"Alright, let’s sleep," Wang Chuan replied, holding her close and tenderly stroking her hair.

She nodded, her breathing steadying, but then said, "Tell me a story, Brother. Make it a good one."

"Very well, let me think," Wang Chuan replied, quickly settling on one. "Once there was a young maiden whose grandparents were revered heroes of the martial world, famed for their virtue and skill. She ventured into the world alone. Later, she met a foolish boy, an orphan with only a hunter grandfather who had just passed away. He encountered an old villain, learned martial arts from him by chance, and so began his adventure..."