[Water Margin] Hu Sanniang with her delicate hands - Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

The wind in the North became increasingly fierce, carrying fine particles of snow that lashed against their faces like knives. After several days of continuous hard riding, both riders and horses were exhausted. Even though Hu Sanniang and Dǎlǐbō were no ordinary women, they were starting to feel the strain. As dusk approached, the lead-gray clouds pressed low, and a heavy snowfall seemed imminent.

“There seems to be a village ahead. We will seek lodging there tonight.” Dǎlǐbō reined in her horse, squinting towards a few wisps of thin cooking smoke at the foot of the distant mountain. The village looked tiny, no more than a dozen households, appearing particularly isolated in the vast twilight.

The two rode closer. They saw that the mud-brick and thatch houses were low and dilapidated. A faded wine banner hung on a crooked wooden post at the village entrance, indicating that there might also be a makeshift inn here. Dǎlǐbō dismounted first and tossed the reins to the innkeeper who emerged upon hearing the sound—a man wrapped in a bulky, tattered fur coat, his face covered in chilblains. She tossed him a small piece of broken silver.

“Two best rooms, hot water, and fodder. Be quick.” Her tone carried her usual commanding authority. Although she tried to be restrained, the innkeeper, intimidated by her superior presence, shrank his neck and repeatedly agreed.

The so-called “best rooms” were merely earthen kangs (heated beds) that were slightly cleaner and had an old wooden table. Hu Sanniang and Dǎlǐbō settled down separately, briefly washing off the dust from their journey. The meal the innkeeper brought was coarse: dark mixed-grain patties and a basin of watery vegetable soup. Still, for famished travelers, it was a rare hot meal.

The two ate silently in Dǎlǐbō’s room. Outside the wind howled, whipping snow pellets against the paper window. The atmosphere was somewhat heavy; the subtle emotional resonance brought about by the heart-to-heart talk by the bonfire seemed to have been frozen again by the fatigue of reality and the isolation of this desolate inn.

Just after they finished eating and the innkeeper had left after collecting the dishes, a sudden clamor of hoofbeats and shouting erupted from the direction of the village entrance, interspersed with crude curses and cries.

Dǎlǐbō frowned, rose to the window, and peered out through a hole in the paper. She saw seven or eight muscular men in mismatched fur coats, armed with scimitars and bows, swaggering on the village’s only dirt road. The one-eyed leader was using a horsewhip to lash an elderly man who was kneeling and begging, swearing crudely:

“Old bastard! You dare to delay this month’s tribute money? I think you’re tired of living!”

“My lord, spare me, spare me! The harvest was poor this year, and my child is sick…”

“Stop your nonsense! If you can’t produce the money, I’ll take your granddaughter in payment!”

Bandits! Judging by their attire and accent, they appeared to be brigands operating near the Song-Liao border, specializing in raiding small villages.

A cold glint flashed in Dǎlǐbō’s eyes, and her hand pressed against the hilt of the scimitar at her waist. She glanced back at Hu Sanniang, who had also risen, her gaze cold, and gave a slight nod. Though they spoke no words, they understood each other’s intent—these scum could not be ignored.

However, before they could move, the one-eyed bandit kicked the old man aside and sneered, walking towards a thin, frightened girl trembling nearby.

Just then, an unexpected change occurred!

A small, thin figure darted out of the village entrance’s shadow like a ghost. A dark iron flute in his hand whistled fiercely as it struck directly at the one-eyed bandit’s wrist that held the whip!

“Puff!” A dull thud, followed by the sound of bone cracking!

The one-eyed bandit was caught off guard and screamed. The whip flew from his hand! Shocked and enraged, he turned to see that his attacker was a small, sallow-faced young man, looking as if he had just recovered from a severe illness. Only his eyes were startlingly bright, filled with a ferocious determination.

“Son of a whore! Where did this consumptive ghost come from, daring to interfere with this lord’s business!” the one-eyed bandit roared, and the remaining bandits drew their knives and circled.

The thin young man did not reply, simply holding the iron flute horizontally across his chest in a strange starting posture, his eyes fixed on the bandits without a trace of fear.

Inside the window, Dǎlǐbō’s hand on the scimitar paused slightly, a flicker of surprise in her eyes: “That technique… seems to be from the Jianghu (martial arts world), yet it’s somewhat different.”

And Hu Sanniang, the moment she saw the side of the thin young man’s face, her pupils contracted sharply! Though the man’s appearance was vastly changed, his face sallow, and his figure much thinner and hunched than she remembered, the outline of his brow and that look of determination…

It was him?! The one who should have died on the night the Zhu Family Manor was destroyed, whom she believed had long passed away… her distant cousin from the Hu Family Manor, Hu Cheng?!

How could he be here? And why did he look like this? What was with that iron flute?

Just as Hu Sanniang’s mind reeled, the battle outside erupted! The thin young man (Hu Cheng) moved with an uncanny agility. His iron flute techniques were tricky and vicious, targeting joints and vital points. Alone, he was able to contend with the seven or eight bandits. Although at a disadvantage, he did not immediately show signs of defeat.

However, the bandits were numerous and fought recklessly. After a prolonged fight, Hu Cheng’s strength began to flag, and his movements slowed. In a moment of carelessness, he was ambushed from the side by a bandit, whose blade struck directly at his back!

He was about to be instantly killed!

“Swoosh—!”

A streak of black light, like a lightning bolt tearing through the night sky, shot out from the inn window! Its speed was too fast for the eye to follow!

“Clang!” A sharp metallic sound!

The scimitar of the attacking bandit was struck precisely on the blade by a small, sharp-edged swallow-tail dart! The immense force caused the scimitar to instantly fly out of his hand! The bandit’s hand was split open, and he retreated in horror.

At the same time, another dark-clad figure soared out of the window like a great Roc. Her Sun and Moon sabers flashed from their scabbards, cutting two bright arcs of light in the dim twilight, aimed straight at the one-eyed bandit!

It was Hu Sanniang! She finally couldn’t hold back. The moment she saw Hu Cheng in danger, her body reacted before her mind could process!

Dǎlǐbō watched Hu Sanniang leap out from the window, frowning slightly, but she did not intervene. Her gaze swept the battlefield. She was clutching two more swallow-tail darts between her fingers, like a coiled viper, ready to deliver a fatal strike at any moment.

Hu Sanniang’s entry instantly turned the tide! Her twin sabers were far more potent and dominant than Hu Cheng’s iron flute. In a flash of blade light, two bandits cried out and collapsed! The one-eyed bandit, seeing a formidable opponent, was shocked and enraged. He desperately wielded a backup scimitar to defend himself, but Hu Sanniang forced him to retreat continuously, narrowly avoiding death.

Hu Cheng, upon seeing Hu Sanniang, was filled with unbelievable light in his eyes. His lips trembled with excitement, wanting to shout, but the immediate killing before him choked the words. He could only redouble his effort, fiercely wielding his iron flute to coordinate with Hu Sanniang against the enemy.

Seeing their leader suppressed and their comrades instantly falling, the remaining bandits also noticed the calm, aloof woman (Dǎlǐbō) standing at the window, who looked anything but ordinary and seemed to be clutching hidden weapons. They were immediately intimidated. With a shout, they abandoned their one-eyed leader and scattered, fleeing in all directions.

The one-eyed bandit realized the battle was lost. He feigned a strike, forcing Hu Sanniang back half a step, and turned to mount his horse to escape.

However, just as he grasped the saddle, a swallow-tail dart silently embedded itself in the frozen soil at his feet, missing his ankle by a mere inch! An icy killing intent instantly enveloped him, freezing him in place, terrified to move.

Dǎlǐbō had approached the inn doorway without being noticed. She toyed with another dart in her hand, looking at him with an indifferent gaze: “Scram. Let me see you again, and you die.”

The one-eyed bandit felt as if he had been granted a reprieve. He scrambled onto his horse and galloped away without looking back, not even sparing a thought for the bodies of his comrades.

The battle began suddenly and ended just as abruptly. The desolate village returned to silence, leaving only scattered debris and a faint smell of bl00d.

Hu Sanniang stood with her sabers sheathed, breathing slightly heavily, her gaze fixed with complex emotion on the thin young man leaning on his iron flute, also gasping for breath.

“Cheng… Ge (Brother)?” she probed, her voice carrying a trace of an undetectable tremor.

The young man (Hu Cheng) sharply raised his head. His sallow face was flushed with an unnatural redness from excitement. He tossed aside the iron flute and staggered forward a few steps. Looking at Hu Sanniang, his lips moved, eventually dissolving into a choked cry:

“San… Third Mistress! It really is you! I… I thought… I thought you were also…”

His words broke off into sobs, tears mixing with the dust on his face.

The reunion of old friends, yet in this northern wilderness, and under such circumstances. Hu Sanniang was also overcome with emotion, a bittersweet feeling hard to articulate. She stepped forward to support the nearly unsteady Hu Cheng, her gaze falling upon his peculiar iron flute and his body, which showed clear signs of severe past injury and was still not fully recovered. A thousand words were stuck in her throat.

Dǎlǐbō watched the scene quietly, without interruption. Her gaze swept over Hu Cheng, then rested on Hu Sanniang’s hand supporting him, her eyes deep, wondering what thoughts were running through her mind.

The north wind carried snow pellets, sweeping across the dilapidated village and over these three people, unexpectedly reunited in a time of chaos, each carrying their own untold story.

The night grew deeper.