Legend of The Frost Blade - Chapter 18

When Yan Qingqiu was young, he played games with friends and sometimes called upon young boys to accompany them, or he would flirt with young actors in Li Yuan, calling them affectionately. He was naturally charming, but his family was very strict, and he never stayed out overnight before entering Jianghu, maintaining a clean reputation. Later, as he roamed Jianghu, his youthful nature led to a reputation for being amorous. Although he mostly interacted with famous courtesans, he wasn’t unfamiliar with Xiao Xin’er.

Those young boys were in their prime, around fourteen or fifteen, with appearances as beautiful as girls and waists as soft as willow branches. Embracing them felt like holding spring water. Yan Qingqiu treated them with a thousand kinds of tenderness, naturally taking the dominant position during intimate moments.

However, today, after getting drunk, he ended up doing something which exceeded propriety with Murong Ai. When he opened his eyes and found himself being held by his sworn brother, he felt intense pain and soreness below his waist with the slightest movement. Immediately, he felt a mix of shame and anger and struggled to break free.

Murong Ai woke up instantly, and with a quick glance, he understood what had happened. Without showing any emotion, he handed Yan Qingqiu his clothes piece by piece.

Yan Qingqiu turned away and hurriedly dressed. At that moment, Murong Ai suddenly picked up a dagger from beside the brazier and swiftly cut his left arm, causing fresh bl00d to gush out. Yan Qingqiu was shocked and quickly rushed forward, pressing the acupoint on Murong Ai’s upper arm and using his clothes to staunch the wound, finally slowing the bleeding.

Yan Qingqiu felt a surge of anger and wanted to curse out loud. However, when he looked up, he was met with Murong Ai’s face—pale with tightly pursed lips, his eyes even darker, filled with a thousand words kept swallowed in his throat, staring intently at Yan Qingqiu.

Yan Qingqiu’s anger gradually subsided. He felt weak and helpless all over and sighed: “Da Ge, why go to such lengths…”

Hearing his hoarse voice, Murong Ai felt even more guilty and said softly: “Yes, even if someone had to act, it should have been Juechen who made this cut. I have an unfulfilled desire and cannot give up my life just yet, but once everything is done, Juechen, if you want to kill me, I won’t even frown.”

Though still somewhat angry, Yan Qingqiu couldn’t help but laugh. He took out some Jinchuang Yao from his clothes and applied it to Murong Ai’s wound while shaking his head, saying: “We were both drunk and reckless last night, it wasn’t just Da Ge who was disoriented. I’m not an innocent maiden in her boudoir, unfamiliar with the pleasures of love…… Last night’s incident wasn’t solely one person’s fault……”

Murong Ai held Yan Qingqiu’s hand: “Juechen, does this mean you no longer blame me?”

Yan Qingqiu blushed slightly but still nodded: “Indeed, Da Ge, let’s consider this cut as making amends ba.”

Murong Ai was overjoyed and said: “Thank you for your great magnanimity, Juechen. If you feel wronged, next time I’ll let you take the lead ba…”

Yan Qingqiu gently scolded: “Making a mistake once is already a serious matter. How can there be a next time? Da Ge, how can you joke like this?”

Despite knowing each other for so long, this was the first time Murong Ai had been reprimanded by Yan Qingqiu. However, he felt no resentment and instead smiled and clasped his hands in apology.

Though their misunderstanding was resolved, the awkwardness remained. Murong Ai saw the red and purple marks on Yan Qingqiu’s snow-white neck. While he was secretly pleased, he felt ashamed and remorseful on the surface.

Yan Qingqiu, with his back to Murong Ai, finished dressing and tried to stand up, but his vision suddenly went dark, causing him to fall back down, Murong Ai  catching him right away.

Murong Ai felt Yan Qingqiu’s pulse and exclaimed: “Why is Juechen’s pulse so weak, and why is your body so hot?”

Yan Qingqiu held his forehead, feeling a headache, and indeed his skin was hotter than usual. He said: “Last night was wild and reckless. I drank a lot and slept deeply. Maybe I caught a chill in the middle of the night, who knows.”

Murong Ai said: “Juechen is a martial artist, how can a little cold affect him?” He carefully checked Yan Qingqiu’s pulse several times and suddenly realized: “It must be the poison in my body that has passed into Juechen’s body!”

Hearing this, Yan Qingqiu’s face immediately turned red with embarrassment. He didn’t know whether to curse or thank Murong Ai and struggled to get up. But Murong Ai sternly said: “Why are you embarrassed now? I will boil some hot water immediately. Juechen, clean yourself first and wash off the filth, then take some medicine to rest.”

Without waiting for Yan Qingqiu to say more, Murong Ai picked him up and placed him on the bed, carefully covering him with animal skins.

Yan Qingqiu’s mind became more and more foggy. As he looked up, he saw Murong Ai bringing a wooden bucket, gently and carefully washing him clean, and feeding him two detoxification pills. In his haze, Yan Qingqiu saw Murong Ai’s gentle expression, which he had never seen before. He seemed to understand something, but the thought gave him a splitting headache, and he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

This illness came with the suffering of both cold and poison, and even though Yan Qingqiu’s internal strength was deep, at this difficult juncture, he fell gravely ill, as if the world had turned upside down. He was bedridden, barely aware of anything at first, then falling into a confused daze, unaware that when he woke again, everything would be very different.

That day, Yan Qingqiu’s fever subsided, and he slowly regained consciousness. He called out “Da Ge” a few times, but no one responded. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but shadows, realizing it was night. Fortunately, some moonlight seeped in from outside the window, allowing him to vaguely discern that he was still in Murong Ai’s room. Normally, there would be a roaring fire in the brazier by the bed, but now only a handful of cold ashes remained.

Yan Qingqiu assumed that Murong Ai and Feng Bo were both outside, so he forced himself to get up, took a thick coat from the bedside, and slowly started walking.

He did not know how long he had been ill, but he vaguely sensed that it had been more than a few days. Now, his feet felt like they were stepping on cotton, making him somewhat unsteady. When he touched a low table, his fingertips collected a layer of fine dust, as if it had not been cleaned for a few days. Yan Qingqiu found this strange—Feng Bo had always kept these rooms meticulously clean since Murong Ai returned, never allowing a moment of untidiness.

Could it be that Feng Bo had been away from the manor for a few days?

With this thought, Yan Qingqiu opened the door: the snow in the courtyard had not melted, and there was little change from New Year’s. The snow-covered ground was flat, with not even a bird’s footprint. The two dogs, Da Huang and Xiao Hui, who usually settled under the porch, were nowhere to be seen.

Though Yan Qingqiu was ill, he was still a clever person. Seeing the situation, he knew something was amiss. Reaching to his waist, he realized that the bamboo flute he always carried was gone.

Just as he was about to call out for Murong Ai again, he heard a loud laugh from outside the moon gate in the corridor, followed by the arrival of firelight. Several people walked in boldly. The first one was dressed in white, wrapped in mink fur, with handsome features and a tall, elegant stature. Seeing Yan Qingqiu standing there, he stopped and clasped his hands with a smile, saying: “Feihua Gongzi, long time no see. How have you been this New Year’s festival?”

Yan Qingqiu was greatly shocked and could not believe that Sima Xiao had found this place. For a moment, he was speechless.

Seeing Yan Qingqiu’s expression, Sima Xiao felt even more pleased. He let out a cold laugh and walked through the courtyard’s accumulated snow. Behind him followed over ten people, including Yang Chong, Wu Xia, and Chen Dajiang, whom Yan Qingqiu recognized. Tang Hong, missing his right arm, had his empty sleeve tied at his waist, looking especially intimidating with his gloomy face. At the end of the group was a large, plump monk, standing a head and a half taller than the others, holding a Zen staff and carrying a huge wine gourd, with a constant smile on his face. 

Sima Xiao stopped one zhang away from Yan Qingqiu, and the others spread out, surrounding them. Sima Xiao clasped his hands again and said: “Today is the seventh day of the Lunar New Year, Renri, with overcast skies and snow. Feihua Gongzi, you do not seem at peace.” 

Yan Qingqiu cautiously returned the salute and replied: “Sima Gongzi might have forgotten, overcast skies or snow, I am not the only one experiencing it.”

Sima Xiao said: “Exactly, but at this moment, isn’t Feihua Gongzi the only unlucky one ba?”

Yan Qingqiu realized that although his illness had slightly improved, his face was still pale and his body weak. Without even having to fight, he was already destined to lose. He didn’t understand why Murong Ai and Feng Bo were nowhere to be seen, as if it seemed that he was the only living being left in Fuyue Manor. Trying to resist Sima Xiao would be like striking a rock with an egg.

Sima Xiao continued: “I see Feihua Gongzi is standing with difficulty, as if seriously ill. Why not come inside and sit down for a detailed conversation?”

Yan Qingqiu shook his head and replied: “Thank you for your concern, Sima Gongzi, but I prefer straightforwardness. Say what you have to say directly ba!”

Sima Xiao coldly laughed: “Alright, I won’t be pretentious. Where is Murong Ai? Please show me, Feihua Gongzi.”

Yan Qingqiu inwardly bitterly smiled—he wanted to know that too! Before he could respond, the nun Wu Xia shouted harshly: “Yan Qingqiu, you and the demon Murong conspired together and have killed two people. Now that he has abandoned you, why don’t you quickly surrender and tell us his whereabouts!”

Yan Qingqiu was shocked and blurted out: “Who else has been killed?”

Wu Xia angrily spat: “Even now you’re still pretending! Disgusting—”

Sima Xiao lifted his hand to stop Wuxia’s cursing and said to Yan Qingqiu: “On New Year’s Day, ‘Qinghe Tie Bian‘ Du Youlian and his friend ‘Jiu Tou Hong Ying’ Xu Wen were killed at home. The method was exactly the same as what Murong Ai used to do. Feihua Gongzi, do you still not believe he is the real culprit?”

Yan Qingqiu recalled that on New Year’s Day, he had just done something absurd with Murong Ai and had fallen ill, being cared for by him all day. How could he have traveled hundreds of miles to Qinghe to kill people? However, this wasn’t the first or second time Murong Ai had been accused of these vicious headless cases, so he wasn’t angry. He simply asked: “Just because the method is the same, you conclude it must be Murong Da Ge? If I said he was here with me on New Year’s Day, would you believe it, Sima Gongzi?”

Sima Xiao said: “Feihua Gongzi, if you wish to vouch for Murong Zuoshi, you must be certain! This time, he fell into the trap set by the heroes, and although they couldn’t save the lives of Du Daxia and Xu Daxia, more than a dozen people saw his face clearly. If you still claim innocence, the heavens might strike with lightning!”

Yan Qingqiu understood that someone of Sima Xiao’s status would not rely on mere witnesses, and his mind was abound with doubts.

Seeing Yan Qingqiu lower his head in silence, Wu Xia added: “Surnamed Yan, why don’t you speak up! If you continue to be cunning and stubborn, I’ll tear you apart limb by limb!”

Wu Xia, though a nun, had a very violent temper and still held a grudge from the last time Yan Qingqiu struck her. She wished she could bind him and stab him a few times with a sword.

Yan Qingqiu didn’t want to argue with her and only asked Sima Xiao: “Sima Gongzi, why did you drop by? Did you already know Murong Da Ge was here?”

Sima Xiao shook his head and laughed: “Feihua Gongzi is unwilling to answer my question but expects me to answer his? There’s no such easy thing in this world!”

Yan Qingqiu knew he wouldn’t reveal anything, so he didn’t ask further: “Unfortunately, I truly don’t know Murong Da Ge’s whereabouts. I’m just residing here as a visitor, how could I manage others’ legs and feet?”

Sima Xiao said: “You two consider each other brothers, sharing life and death. If he left with Kuaiyi Qiushuang, he would surely take you with him!”

Yan Qingqiu’s heart trembled, and he suddenly remembered their intimate moment that day, causing his pale cheeks to flush slightly.

Tang Hong could no longer stand the back-and-forth questioning between the two and turned to Sima Xiao, saying: “Gongzi, why bother talking with this sickly ghost? If we can’t get anything out of him now, why not take him back and interrogate him thoroughly? I’ve got plenty of interesting tools, perfect for practicing on the famous Feihua Gongzi.”

Tang Hong, inherently cruel by nature, regarded the loss of his arm at Murong Ai’s hands as a lifelong vendetta, extending his hatred to Yan Qingqiu as well. Capturing the real culprit was secondary, his main desire only being revenge!

Sima Xiao, aware of Tang Hong’s hidden motives, did not expose him and instead smiled faintly: “Tang Xiongdi, be patient. Feihua Gongzi is extremely clever. We just need to take him back and persuade him slowly, and he will naturally see the light and abandon the dark ways.”

Yan Qingqiu knew he couldn’t escape today, so he straightforwardly said: “Since Sima Gongzi wants to take me for questioning, please allow me to pack my personal belongings first.”

Sima Xiao replied: “Of course.”

He then instructed Yang Chong and Wu Xia to raise their torches and accompany Yan Qingqiu inside to guard him, while ordering the others to search the manor thoroughly.

Yan Qingqiu returned to the room, packed his clothes and other miscellaneous items, searched carefully, but could not find his green bamboo flute, and couldn’t help but secretly wonder. He then went to the table by the window, lifted the cloth covering it, and his face instantly changed—

It turned out that beneath the cloth was Murong Ai’s Yaoqin, but the instrument was broken in two, with its strings also snapped!

Yan Qingqiu was greatly shocked, immediately realizing that something serious had happened to Murong Ai. However, upon waking up, the room was completely silent, as if he had fallen into an icy pit, with slippery walls all around, offering no foothold to climb out and no clear view of the situation!

As he stood in a daze for a moment, Wu Xia, growing impatient, shouted: “What are you dawdling about for? Are you trying to play tricks?”

Yan Qingqiu dared not show his doubts and took his package, following Wu Xia out. He glanced sideways at Yang Chong beside him, who still had a blank expression, nothing like the person who secretly helped him in the darkness before. Yan Qingqiu wondered if Yang Chong had any plans and decided to seize any opportunity to gather information.

The three of them walked into the courtyard where Sima Xiao was waiting, the others quickly reporting: “We’ve searched everywhere, but there’s no one else here. It seems like no one has lived here for a long time.”

Sima Xiao nodded and said “Good work,” then turned to Yan Qingqiu with a smile: “Feihua Gongzi and Murong Zuoshi sure know how to find a place. This dilapidated Fuyue Manor, unvisited all year round, is indeed like a mouse hole—the most suitable place for hiding.”

Yan Qingqiu ignored his obvious insidious sarcasm, feeling puzzled—had Sima Xiao not noticed the many ancestral tablets in the large main hall? If the tablets were still there, given Sima Xiao’s cunningness, how could he not suspect the Liu Clan’s survivors?

At that moment, Yan Qingqiu couldn’t check the main hall. He remained silent as Wu Xia and Yang Zhong, each on both of his sides, escorted him out of the small courtyard.

After the group of people exited the manor gate, the large monk who had continuously remained sullen and silent suddenly roared: “Sima Gongzi, the Demon Blade was unable to be found, and Sajia is frustrated. This manor is an eyesore, why doesn’t Sajia burn it down for fun?”

Sima Xiao nodded: “This is just an ordinary abandoned house. If Zhi Yin Dashi wants to have some fun, that should be fine.”

The monk, upon hearing this, was overjoyed. He took the torch from someone’s hand and leapt onto the gate of Fuyue Manor. Yan Qingqiu knew something was wrong and gathered his strength to move forward, but Wux Xa blocked him with a sword across his chest. As he tried to muster his strength, he felt dizzy and almost fell. At that moment, the monk took a large gulp from the gourd at his waist, then held the torch in front of him and blew out a mouthful.

In an instant, countless sparks flew into the manor, quickly igniting the dry branches and rotten wood. The flames grew stronger, licking the wooden beams of the porch, and spread from the front yard to the back yard. The entirety of Fuyue Manor was soon engulfed in a sea of crimson flames.

Yan Qingqiu was filled with a mix of shock and anger, hatred and pain. The thought of Murong Ai’s only cherished item turning to ashes made his heart ache as if being pierced by a knife.

FOOTNOTES

Titles

Li Yuan: The term “梨园” originally refers to the imperial troupe of actors and musicians in ancient China, especially during the Tang Dynasty.

Qinghe Tie Bian: “The Iron Whip of Qinghe”, Du Youlian’s title.

Jiu Tou Hong Ying: “Nine-Headed Red Eagle”, Xu Wen’s title.

Sajia: “洒家” (sǎ jiā) is a colloquial and somewhat archaic self-referential term used in Chinese, particularly in historical or martial arts contexts. It is often used by characters in classic Chinese literature and dramas to refer to themselves in a humble or playful manner.

Dashi: 大师” (dà shī) “Master” or “Great Teacher”. Commonly used to address monks, martial arts experts, or highly esteemed individuals in various disciplines.

Objects

Jinchuang Yao: A type of antiseptic medicine.

Zen Staff: In the context of Buddhism, a 禅杖 is a traditional staff carried by monks, especially those in the Zen tradition. It is used as a walking aid, a symbol of authority, and sometimes in rituals or teachings.

Other

“A thousand kinds of tenderness”:The idiom “千般怜惜” conveys deep affection and care, implying that someone is showing immense tenderness and concern towards another person.

Renri: 人日天” (rén rì tiān) refers to the Seventh Day of the Lunar New Year, also known as “Renri” or “Human Day.” In Chinese mythology, it is believed that the goddess Nüwa created human beings on the seventh day after creating animals on the preceding days. It is traditionally celebrated as the birthday of all humans, making it a day to honor and celebrate human life.

“Manage others’ legs and feet“: An idiom which means to control another’s movements.