Entangled Love GL - Chapter 3

Dragon Elephant Mountain (Lóng Xiàng Shān) is located across the Golden Water River (Jīn Shuǐ Hé) in the western suburbs of the capital city.

The Golden Water River is famous because a predecessor praised its broken waves rising up like gold. The section in the western suburbs is not wide but is deep, with a strong, turbulent current, and a ferry crossing is only available more than ten li away. When Emperor Zhao was on the throne, he summoned a large number of craftsmen and laborers and spent a huge amount of money to build a bridge here. For forty or fifty years, this bridge has stood solitarily across the Golden Water River, but only ten or twenty pedestrians cross it every day.

The bridge is called “Bu Ying” (Should Not Respond). It is said to have been personally named by Emperor Zhao, but the name is not catchy. People who cross it only call it the “White Stone Bridge,” and the two characters “Bu Ying” are only engraved on the Flowing Gold Bu Ying Stele at the bridgehead.

The Flowing Gold Bu Ying Stele stands inside a white stone pavilion with an octagonal pyramidal roof. The white stone pavilion also has a name, written on a plaque hanging on its lintel as “Bu Gui” (Should Not Return). However, the white stone pavilion is also simply called the White Stone Pavilion, and passersby only care that it is the sole resting place within a dozen li.

It was nearly the end of the Sì Shí (9:00 AM – 11:00 AM), and Duan Min and Ping Ping stopped here.

Every time they go to Dragon Elephant Mountain, the two of them stop to rest in the White Stone Pavilion. Sometimes they might encounter one or two people; this time, a young woman was sitting in the pavilion.

The girl was fifteen or sixteen years old, with peach blossom dimples and autumn water eyes, a remarkably bright and beautiful appearance. She wore a white shirt and white trousers underneath a short pink blouse and outer skirt. A narrow waistband with a sunflower gold scale pattern was tied around her waist, interwoven with several strands of silver-red embroidery thread knotted into a Ruyi knot, with an exquisite silver filigree button hanging below the knot.

The girl was resting in the pavilion. Seeing them approach, she smiled warmly and stepped forward: “Two older sisters, I want to ask about something. Do you know how to get to the Guanyin Temple on Dragon Elephant Mountain?”

Ping Ping showed a little surprise when she first heard this. Seeing that Duan Min had no intention of speaking, she smiled and replied: “Why does the young lady ask about that? That Guanyin Temple burned down a few years ago and has not been rebuilt to this day. There are only a few charred stones and broken tiles left near Elephant Trunk Cliff, nothing to see.”

“What you are telling me is not the same place,” the girl’s smile was sweet as she sat down with them in the cool shade of the pavilion. “The one I heard about is in front of Dragon Horn Peak. This Dragon Elephant Mountain has thirty-six peaks, which one is Dragon Horn Peak?”

The girl’s bright eyes were full of innocent inquiry, but Ping Ping became anxious watching her, glancing at Duan Min many times while speaking.

Duan Min took out her water pouch and handed it to Ping Ping. She sat leisurely and examined the red-sheathed sword in the girl’s hand.

Ping Ping frowned, her expression unfriendly: “Who told you there is such a place? I’ve never heard of it!”

The girl did not mind at all, her attitude still intimate: “It’s fine if the sister doesn’t know; that place is not very famous. My family had some trouble, so I asked around and found out about this Guanyin Temple, which is said to be extremely effective for fortune-telling and making wishes.” The girl was nimble; in the blink of an eye, she had moved from Ping Ping’s side to Duan Min’s side, asking with a smile: “Why doesn’t this older sister speak? Does the sister know anything?”

Duan Min put down the water pouch and smiled softly: “We are traveling the same route by chance. If you follow us, you will find that ‘Guanyin Temple.’”

Ping Ping had not expected her to say this. She couldn’t help but call out, “Min-Jie,” trying to stop her, her tone laced with complaint.

Duan Min ignored her, continuing: “My name is Duan Min, and she is Ping Ping. What should we call you, young lady?”

The girl smiled extremely happily at this point, her voice sounding even more intimate: “My name is Yang Mei. Min-Jie can just call me Xiao Mei [Little Mei].”

Duan Min nodded and said no more. Ping Ping pouted, her gaze shifting back and forth between Yang Mei and the sword she held in her hand.

The sword was slender and long, encased in a sheath with a scarlet base and gold tracing, looking quite luxurious. The ornament, however, was a simple, unadorned green jade, possessing its own sense of deep solemnity.

Ping Ping was alert yet curious, testing the waters: “Do you know martial arts? Do you use a sword?”

Yang Mei chuckled: “I know some martial arts, but I don’t necessarily use a sword.” As she spoke, she lightly raised her hand, and the sword landed in Ping Ping’s hands. At the seemingly same moment, two flashes of cold light darted out, and a plop sound was heard in the bushes several zhang outside the pavilion. Two men in gray clothes fell to the ground.

Yang Mei’s smile remained unchanged: “Those two were sneaking around following you, so they must not be good people. This saves them from disturbing the peace of a Buddhist sanctuary.”

The atmosphere in the pavilion suddenly froze. Duan Min frowned and turned her eyes away in disgust. Ping Ping’s face was deathly pale as she lowered her head.

Seeing this, Yang Mei moved closer to Duan Min. Her bright, shining eyes held a look of guiltless obedience: “Min-Jie is not part of the Jianghu world. Judging by their clothes, those two should be This Place Pavilion disciples. If I hadn’t launched a sneak attack, I might not have defeated them. People like this must have countless lives on their hands. It’s actually a bargain for them to die so swiftly!”

Though Duan Min had not detected them, she knew that people were following them.

When the two of them left early in the morning, they met Young Master Yang of the This Place Pavilion. Young Master Yang instructed them to “be careful and mindful,” urged them to “save lives as if fighting a fire,” and even offered to leave a few subordinates to guard their safety. However, Xu Chi, who had delivered the fabric last night, suddenly galloped over on a horse, whispered a few words into Yang Guan’s ear. Yang Guan’s expression changed, he snorted, “My men will protect you in secret,” and rushed away.

At that time, Ping Ping was still angrily complaining: What’s the difference between this “protection” and surveillance!

Duan Min, however, felt that this “protection” did have some element of protection. She had become a piece in a chess game where the enemies were unclear—she couldn’t see clearly and she wasn’t her own master. But she didn’t care.

Duan Min did not answer. She avoided Yang Mei’s close gaze and got up to look at the Flowing Gold Bu Ying Stele.

Yang Mei followed and watched with her. After a while, she spoke as if talking to herself: “‘Bu Ying’ [Should Not Respond], ‘Bu Gui’ [Should Not Return]—Emperor Zhao was a man of sorrowful emotions.”

Duan Min smiled coldly: “Sorrowful emotions? Do emperors also have feelings?”

“Of course they do,” Yang Mei reached out to trace the incised character for “Bu” on the stele. She turned her face, her smile clear and bright, “If a person had no feelings for anyone or anything in this world, even if he were the Emperor, I’m afraid he would not want to live anymore!”

Duan Min had not expected her to interpret it this way. Her expression appeared even more detached, yet she did not refute it.

Ping Ping came over at this time and returned the red-sheathed sword to Yang Mei, urging: “The mountain road is difficult to walk. Let’s set off early.”