[Water Margin] Hu Sanniang with her delicate hands - Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The set of armor named “Xuanlian” (Black Lotus) stood in the most prominent location in Hu Sanniang’s room, like a silent, splendid sentinel. Its presence constantly reminded her of her predicament and the undeniable “goodwill” of Song Jiang and Wu Yong.

Hu Sanniang did not wear it immediately. Yet, as she polished her double sabers daily, her gaze would inadvertently fall upon the cold plates, weighing the pros and cons and the deeper intentions possibly hidden behind them.

This evening, the Khitan maid was sent again from the direction of the Liao envoys’ quarters. This time, she delivered a narrow, lacquered brocade box sealed with wax.

Hu Sanniang’s heart stirred. She dismissed her attendants and opened the box alone in her room. There was no letter, only a single, specialized arrow, utterly black except for the arrowhead that shimmered with a dark blue cold light. The shaft was thicker than a regular arrow, heavy in her hand, intricately wrapped with hair-thin gold thread forming complex, unfamiliar totemic patterns. The fletching was made from the feathers of a raptor, stiff and firm.

Under the arrow was a small, neatly cut piece of dark leather with deep red patterns—the lining material of the “Xuanlian” armor.

It was still a wordless invitation, but compared to the last one, it carried more unspoken understanding and a hint of almost provocative testing.

She sent an arrow—was it a response to the longbow on the cliff that day? Or was it hinting at a next step that required military force as a backup?

And that piece of leather… did she know about the armor? Was she telling Hu Sanniang that she was aware of the Liangshan leaders’ actions, perhaps even… encouraging her to wear it?

Hu Sanniang held the heavy arrow, her fingertips tracing the texture of the gold thread totem and the cold sharpness of the arrowhead. Dǎlǐbō’s actions were always so unexpected, bold, and direct, placing all her calculations and tests in plain view, yet her ultimate purpose remained elusive.

As night deepened, the moonlight flowed like water.

Hu Sanniang stood before the “Xuanlian” armor in silence for a long time. Finally, she reached out and began to put it on, piece by piece.

The chainmail was cold against her skin, with the unique resilience and weight of foreign metal. The lotus-petal-shaped plates covered her shoulders, arms, waist, and abdomen, making subtle, crisp sounds as they moved. The dark leather lining rubbed against her skin, the deep red patterns appearing like flowing veins in the lamplight. Finally, she put on the phoenix-shaped doumou helmet. The tassels draped down, partially obscuring her vision, and transformed her entire demeanor.

She was no longer the plainly dressed, cold prisoner, nor the woman warrior covered in bl00d on the battlefield, but more like a mysterious and dangerous warrior from a foreign land. The armor fit her figure perfectly, highlighting her feminine slenderness while bestowing a chilling, formidable presence. Especially the black obsidian heart protector, which reflected the flickering candlelight and her cool eyes, was so profound it seemed to swallow the light.

She picked up her Sun and Moon double sabers and walked into the courtyard. The moonlight spilled onto the dark armor, creating a profound and magnificent luster, a stark contrast to the gleaming blades in her hands.

She did not practice complex moves but stood quietly, feeling the restraint and power brought by this unfamiliar armor. It was heavy, heavier than the standard armor of the Hu Family Manor, but the weight was evenly distributed and did not overly impede her movement. The design of the plates seemed to hold a subtle secret, able to better deflect and guide attacks from certain angles.

This was indeed a treasure. Song Jiang had invested heavily to win her over (or rather, to control her).

However, wearing this armor—a gift from Song Jiang, yet seemingly having some secret link with Dǎlǐbō—Hu Sanniang felt no joy. There was only a cold sense of alertness, like being placed in a giant chess game.

She wielded her double sabers, attempting a few slashes and parries, adapting to the new center of gravity and feel. The blades cut through the air, rubbing against the armor plates, producing a duller yet sharper sound than before.

Just then, from outside the courtyard wall, a very faint whistle, like the cry of a night owl, could be faintly heard.

Hu Sanniang stopped, sabers held still, and listened.

The whistle sounded again, coming from the direction of the small path leading to the secluded valley.

She had arrived.

Hu Sanniang did not hesitate. She took a deep breath, suppressing the complex emotions surging within her, and her figure unfolded like a dark phantom, silently blending into the night, rushing toward the direction indicated by the whistle. The dark armor was almost indistinguishable from the shadows in the moonlight, only flashing with a cold, faint gleam when it occasionally caught the light.

Reaching the secluded valley again, the pool was the same, and the moonlight was brighter.

Dǎlǐbō was already waiting by the pool. Tonight, she was not wearing her riding attire but a more practical black outfit, devoid of any jewelry. Her long hair was tied high in a single bun, making her neck look long and her presence exceptionally heroic. In her hand, she was toying with the black, gold-threaded arrow Hu Sanniang had received earlier in the day.

Hearing footsteps, she turned. When her gaze fell on the “Xuanlian” armor Hu Sanniang was wearing, a hint of undisguised admiration and awe flashed in her light brown eyes, like a hunter seeing the perfect quarry.

“Just as I thought,” her lips curved into a satisfied arc. “This armor was born to be worn by you.” Her gaze was palpable, scrutinizing every detail of the armor, finally settling on the black obsidian heart protector, as if she could see through the cold stone to Hu Sanniang’s slightly accelerated heartbeat beneath.

“It suits you better than Song Jiang’s crude iron plates,” she added, her tone carrying her usual arrogance and contempt for Liangshan.

Hu Sanniang felt a slight discomfort under her intense gaze, as if the armor had become a kind of constraint, leaving her nowhere to hide. She forced herself to remain calm, slightly raising the double sabers in her hands: “Princess summoned me late at night. What are your instructions? And what is the meaning of this arrow?”

Dǎlǐbō gave a small laugh, casually tossing the black arrow in her hand: “No instructions. I just thought, since you have new armor, you should test if it fits well. What fun is there in just practicing in the courtyard?” Her eyes swept over the double sabers in Hu Sanniang’s hands, then looked at her own empty hands. “I won’t use a weapon. If you, wearing this ‘Xuanlian,’ can touch my sleeve, you win.”

A challenge!

Hu Sanniang’s eyes narrowed. Although she had not personally witnessed Dǎlǐbō’s martial arts, the arrow on the cliff that day had shown her deep skill, and now she was so arrogant…

“Your Highness has a noble status. I dare not offend you,” she suppressed her competitive urge, cautiously stating.

“I told you, here, there is only Dǎlǐbō.” She took a step forward, her aura suddenly becoming sharp, like a drawn saber. “Or are you afraid? Afraid of losing to this ‘foreign barbarian woman’?”

A provocation, simple yet effective.

The inherent pride in Hu Sanniang’s bones was ignited. She said no more, positioned her double sabers, and assumed a fighting stance: “If so, please!”

“Come!”

Before the words fully dropped, Dǎlǐbō’s figure closed in like a ghost! Her movement was not the agile grace of Central Plains martial arts but carried the steadiness and explosive power of a grassland bökh wrestler. Every step was firm, yet her speed was astonishing. She was instantly in front of Hu Sanniang, striking her saber-wielding right wrist with a hand-knife!

Hu Sanniang was prepared. She blocked with her left saber and used her right saber to slash diagonally toward the opponent’s ribs! The saber light was like a streak of white silk, accompanied by a sharp whistle that tore the air!

Dǎlǐbō did not dodge. Instead, she twisted her waist suddenly as if boneless, avoiding the blade by a hair’s breadth. At the same time, her other hand shot out like a venomous snake, aiming straight for the side of Hu Sanniang’s helm! The finger wind was fierce!

Hu Sanniang’s heart tightened slightly. She sharply turned her steps, the “Xuanlian” armor plates rubbing with a faint sound, narrowly evading the strike. She spun her double sabers, transforming them into a halo of light that enveloped Dǎlǐbō.

Dǎlǐbō’s movement was unpredictable and eerie, sometimes as fierce and explosive as an eagle seizing a rabbit, and sometimes as light and tricky as a spirit fox treading on snow. She seemed to have an anticipation of Hu Sanniang’s saber techniques, always managing to avoid the edge at the last moment. Her empty hands—fingers, palms, fists, claws—changed endlessly, each strike aiming for the joints of Hu Sanniang’s armor or her blind spots, forcing her to respond with full effort.

In the moonlight, the two figures rapidly flashed and moved by the pool. The dark armor reflected a cold gleam, the double sabers carved bright arcs, while Dǎlǐbō’s black figure was like a shadow merged with the night, flickering and elusive. The clash of metal rang out continuously, interspersed with the muffled thuds of flesh-on-flesh contact and rapid breaths.

The longer Hu Sanniang fought, the more alarmed she became. She was fighting with all her might, her double sabers attacking like flowing mercury. Coupled with the protection of the “Xuanlian” armor, she still couldn’t overcome the unarmed Dǎlǐbō! The other woman’s strength, speed, reflexes, and grasp of opportunity far exceeded her expectations! This was certainly not just grassland martial arts; it seemed to incorporate the essence of other extremely sophisticated fighting techniques.

What further unsettled her was that throughout the fierce engagement, Dǎlǐbō’s light brown eyes were fixed intensely on her, carrying an almost fervent appreciation and… scrutiny, as if they were not in a life-and-death struggle but a passionate exchange.

Dozens of moves passed in a flash. Hu Sanniang’s attack stalled, her breathing slightly disordered, and fine sweat beading on her forehead. Dǎlǐbō, however, remained composed, as if not having exerted her full strength.

Suddenly, Dǎlǐbō exposed an opening, her guard wide open. Hu Sanniang, suspecting nothing, thrust her double sabers forward, aiming straight for the center!

Just as the blade tips were about to connect, Dǎlǐbō’s body drifted backward as if weightless. At the same time, her toes lightly tapped a protruding rock. Using the leverage, her entire body vaulted into the air with incredible agility, executing a perfect somersault over Hu Sanniang’s head!

Hu Sanniang’s strike missed. Realizing the danger, she quickly turned but was half a beat too slow!

Dǎlǐbō landed silently, like a swift cat. She brought her fingers together like a sword and lightly swiped the side of Hu Sanniang’s neck, which was momentarily exposed during the turn and not fully covered by the dark armor!

The cold, calloused touch of her fingertips shot through Hu Sanniang’s skin like an electric current, making her body stiffen and her movement instantly freeze.

“You lose,” Dǎlǐbō’s voice sounded behind her ear, tinged with a satisfied amusement, her warm breath brushing her earlobe.

Hu Sanniang stood motionless, her double sabers slowly dropping. Defeated. Wearing treasure armor and wielding sharp weapons, she was defeated by an unarmed opponent. An indescribable feeling surged in her heart: frustration, reluctance, and a strange throb after being crushed by absolute skill.

Dǎlǐbō walked around to face her, looking at her cheeks flushed from the fight and embarrassment, and her eyes, which were trying to remain composed but could not conceal their turmoil. The smile on Dǎlǐbō’s face deepened. She reached out, not to touch Hu Sanniang, but lightly brushed a piece of grass off the shoulder of the “Xuanlian” armor, her action natural, as if it were a matter of course.

“The armor is good, and the sabers are good,” her gaze returned to Hu Sanniang’s face, her tone becoming low and serious. “But you still have shackles in your heart. These shackles are heavier than any armor.”

She pointed to Hu Sanniang’s chest, where the black obsidian heart protector remained cold.

“Only when you truly fight for yourself, and not for so-called duty, hatred, or the expectations of others…” Dǎlǐbō’s fingertip almost touched the cold stone, her voice carrying a strange, alluring power. “Only then can you truly unleash the power of this armor and your martial arts.”

With that, she withdrew her hand, stepped back a few paces, gave Hu Sanniang another deep look, turned, and, just as she had arrived, silently disappeared into the shadows of the valley.

Hu Sanniang was left alone, standing under the cold moonlight, wearing the magnificent dark armor and holding the cold double sabers. Yet, her heart felt as if it had been branded by a piece of red-hot iron—scalding and searing.

Fight for myself?

She touched the side of her neck where the fingertips had brushed, still lingering with that strange sensation, then looked down at the black obsidian on her chest.

Reflected in the mirror was her confused and wavering gaze.

The brocade box was wordless, the arrow a pledge.

That night, Dǎlǐbō did not say much, but with a thorough defeat, she etched a mark on Hu Sanniang’s heart deeper than any words.