Three Steps: From Assassin to Empress - Chapter 8: "What, Do You Understand?"

Chapter 8: “What, Do You Understand?“

The mighty river flowed eastward without stopping for even a moment. The shouts never ceased.

Before Wang Shouzhen could react, a swift, graceful black figure flashed past his eyes. Ying Xiu had already used his lightness skill to fly over.

On the narrow weir, workers were using human power to transport a large log. One of the logs crushed a group of commoners, and one corner was particularly badly collapsed. The commoner trapped underneath knelt on the ground, his arms bent to support himself. His eyes were wide open, as if he was still concerned about something. Sweat dripped down and flowed over his dark pupils—

He died right there, in front of Ying Xiu.

The man who died was a commoner. There was nothing special about him. His limbs gave out, he couldn’t support himself, and he was finally crushed by the log. His spine broke, and he died. In the past, when the Lord of Jiangzhou, Xiangli Jue, was alive, this man had been a tenant farmer in the Xiangli clan’s stronghold. After the Xiangli clan fell, he didn’t even have a registered residence anymore. The only special thing about him was that he was a refugee from the north, from the Central Plains, specifically from Leling, Yizhou.

Ying Xiu knelt on the ground and tried to lift the heavy log. Seeing that it was a person who often followed the eldest son, the team leader quickly ran over and called for the nearby commoners to help lift the bl00d-stained log.

“Young master, are you alright? These things are a bit unlucky. You should hurry back to the eldest son,” the team leader said to Ying Xiu in a low voice. Then, he turned around and sternly scolded, “Hurry up and carry him away! Don’t delay the work! If the progress is slow, no one gets to rest tonight!”

Soon, someone came and carried the body away. Two sweating commoners carried the body past Ying Xiu and looked at him strangely, not understanding what he was doing kneeling there, looking as if he had lost his soul.

“…Where was he from?” Ying Xiu asked.

“I don’t know. There are so many commoners at this weir. Who knows who is who?” After saying this, the two commoners quickly carried the body away.

Everything went back to normal.

Only the bloodstains remained on the ground, vivid and scattered.

Ying Xiu couldn’t kneel there anymore because he would block the commoners carrying the logs. He slowly walked back to Wang Shouzhen. The latter saw his appearance and frowned slightly. “Where did you go?”

Ying Xiu said, “Someone died over there.”

Wang Shouzhen’s frown deepened. “I know.” He didn’t like the way Ying Xiu looked. “He’ll be compensated, of course, for his family—where are you going now?!”

Ying Xiu turned and walked away, looking for the two commoners who were carrying the body. Behind him, Wang Shouzhen suddenly stood up, his usually calm face now full of confusion.

…What’s wrong with Ying Xiu? It’s just a commoner who died.

The commoner’s body had been wrapped in coarse grass and placed on a cart. Another commoner was pulling it toward Jianxiafang. Jianxiafang was located downstream of the Yuan River, and all the filth and dark water from upstream flowed here. The muddy roads were full of black puddles of various sizes, and there were dilapidated thatched cottages everywhere.

The cart stopped in front of a thatched cottage. The commoner hurriedly put the silver given by the team leader on the body, then quickly ran away, taking two steps at a time, so as not to be caught by the wailing that was about to follow.

A plain-looking woman came out of the cottage, holding a clean little girl by the hand. She froze when she saw the cart at the door. She hesitated and took a few steps forward. When she saw the open eyes of the man, her own eyes widened. She took a deep breath and fell back with a thud.

“…Mom!”

Ying Xiu was walking on the muddy road of Jianxiafang when he saw this scene. Without thinking, he flew over using his lightness skill. His robe, which had remained unstained over the flowing river, was now splashed with mud from Jianxiafang. A speck of mud slipped from his robe and fell into a small puddle inside the cottage, causing a ripple.

Ying Xiu stood in front of the bed, not wiping the mud from his clothes. There was only one bed in the cottage. The woman was curled up on one of the two stools in the cottage, with the little girl sitting next to her.

Ying Xiu had already recognized the little girl. She was the child he had saved in Pogangdu not long ago. This was the third time they had met.

The woman’s expression was blank. She didn’t know if she recognized him. The silver that had been quietly resting on the grass was now on a low table, glowing brightly in the dim cottage.

One ingot of silver, one life.

From the woman, Ying Xiu learned that the commoner’s name was Yu Wang. He used to be a tenant farmer in the Xiangli clan’s stronghold. After the Xiangli clan’s stronghold was taken over by the Jiangzhou prefectural office, he was assigned to the weir to build the grand canal. Under the team leader’s constant shouts, he worked day and night until he was crushed by a log on the weir and never got up again.

I didn’t kill Bo Ren, but Bo Ren died because of me.

Ying Xiu slowly reached out to close the man’s eyes, but they remained wide open, staring deeply at him.

Yu Wang, what are you looking for?

…After putting down enough silver to make the mother and daughter wealthy for a lifetime, Ying Xiu left as if he were fleeing. As he walked, he saw the dusty people in the thatched cottages watching him from their dark doorways.

The water of Jianxiafang was dirty and muddy, a world away from the singing and feasting of the Xiao Qinhuai. As dusk approached, on a small building by the Xiao Qinhuai, a courtesan was practicing her singing. Her soft Wu accent made the entire river sound tender.

The young assassin walked aimlessly on the stone steps. Famous scholars of the Southern Dynasty liked to live as hermits, retreating to a life of seclusion, uninvolved in worldly affairs. A few years later, they would be invited by the court to serve. After being asked three or four times, they would finally re-enter society, receiving high positions and great wealth.

Since leaving the mountain alone in the eighth year of Yongning, this was the fourth year Ying Xiu had been in society. An autumn breeze blew, and the stone steps were covered with fallen flowers. Ying Xiu avoided the still-intact petals and walked up the steps with his head down.

At the end of the stone steps, a glass lantern hung from the flying eaves. The hazy yellow light flickered in the faint twilight. A secluded courtyard stood quietly amidst the sparse plants.

This was the residence of the handsome retainer. Ying Xiu looked up, not knowing how he had gotten here.

He wanted to go in. He stood by the door, reaching out to knock, but hesitated. While he was hesitating whether to disturb Xie Zhou at night, the vermilion door silently opened.

A plain-robed boy with a lantern stood behind the door, as if he wasn’t at all surprised by his arrival. “Young Master Ying, you’ve arrived.”

For some reason, Ying Xiu remembered sending someone to deliver a letter to Xie Zhou before. The boy had returned with a pale face, saying he was scared by the guards.

A secluded courtyard. What guards?

The boy guided him forward. Wherever the glass lantern went, the light briefly illuminated the darkness. In the distance, the eaves were level. Pavilions and water pavilions were shrouded in a hazy glow. Terraces and pavilions, willow lanes and flower avenues were all scattered and immersed in a profound darkness.

Autumn wind and autumn rain fell. The fine rain blew through the winding corridors, making the bells on the eaves ring. Autumn rain, deep woods, like stumbling into a profound and unpredictable dream. Ying Xiu’s heart was like a warm, calm pool of water, slowly finding peace.

He walked through the long corridor and stepped through the moon gate. A peaceful hall appeared before him. The bamboo curtain swayed gently, and the shadows of the bamboo danced on the bluestone ground. Xie Zhou was here.

Behind the circular door, a tall, straight, plain white figure sat on a mat, his hair down. His well-defined hand held a wolf-hair brush. A huge map was spread on the ground. Mountains, rivers, and the land of the Central Plains were all at his feet.

“Xie Zhou?” The young man’s voice, full of caution, came from behind the door.

The boy with the lantern moved back, leaving the young man with mud on his black robe standing alone by the door. He was delicate and supple, like a beautiful sword hidden in the darkness.

Emperor Zhaosu lowered his eyes and glanced at him. He put down the wolf-hair brush and, stepping on the map, walked to him. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong.

These two simple words made Ying Xiu’s eyes well up. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but nothing came out. He wanted to say that he had been ordered to kill a bad person, but an innocent person had died because of it. The sword that had run through the Lord of Jiangzhou’s throat now seemed to have gone through his own, making him unable to say anything.

In the past, whenever he completed a mission, an assassin would leave immediately. He was only responsible for killing the person who needed to be killed. The rest had nothing to do with him.

But this time, the assassin stayed. He stayed in Jiangzhou and saw the changes in the world after a person’s death, like a stormy sea. One sword created a thousand waves, and one wave crushed Jianxiafang.

“Never mind,” seeing that he couldn’t say a word for a long time, Xie Zhou didn’t ask again. “Tell me when you’re ready. Just get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

Ying Xiu gave a muffled “Mm,” and secretly held Xie Zhou’s snowy white robe. He suddenly saw the map on the ground. “…What’s that on the ground?”

Xie Zhou let him hold his sleeve. He lit a lantern and held it, illuminating the map inch by inch. He first lit up a small dot. “This is Jiangzhou. We are here right now.” The glass lantern moved eastward, illuminating a small dot near a blue area. “This is Xuzhou. Guangling is here. Your hometown.”

The light shifted. Next to the dot was a red one. “This is Jiankang, the capital of the Southern Dynasty.”

“I know!” Ying Xiu cut in. “This is your hometown, right?”

Xie Zhou was silent for a moment. He didn’t say yes or no. His finger passed over a natural barrier on the map and pointed at the fertile hills, gesturing vaguely. “My hometown is here.”

That was—

The Central Plains.

Ying Xiu didn’t quite understand, but he had a rough idea of what the dots and winding lines on the map meant. He also knew where the Central Plains was, where Xiangyang was, where Shouchun was, and where the three states of Xuzhou, Ganzhou, and Yangzhou were. For example, Xuzhou, where the Wang clan of Langya was based, was adjacent to Jiankang. It was bordered by Yangzhou and Kuaiji to the southeast and by Shouchun and Runan to the northwest, protecting the capital. It was a crucial and vital hub.

“Huh?” The young man bent down and pointed at the dot for Jiangzhou. “This looks like the center of a spider web.”

It wasn’t a spider web before, but a bright red line was drawn from the northeast to the southwest, starting from Xuzhou, passing through Jiankang, and then to Yangzhou, Jiangzhou, and Jingzhou. Jiangzhou was in the middle, surrounded by thin lines, with rivers everywhere, making it accessible in all directions. With Jiangzhou as the center, Jiankang, the capital, was to the northeast along the Yangtze River; Yuzhang and Luling were to the southeast along the Gan River; Guanzhou was to the southwest along the Xiang River; and Xiangyang was to the northwest along the Ke River.

With this line, Jiangzhou became the true water-way hub of Jiangzuo.

Ying Xiu stared at the newly added, bl00d-red line and froze.

“What,” Xie Zhou’s warm laugh came from above his head, “do you understand?”