Jianghu Demolition Squad

Like a Fish Transforming into a Dragon (Part Four)

The side room to the left served as a bedroom, inhabited only by Du Zhong. However, the bed and bedding were neatly arranged, and the small desk was clean, complete with a bronze mirror, giving the room the appearance of a woman’s dwelling. This must have been arranged in memory of his deceased wife and daughter.

After settling in, Yu’er noticed the wooden door had closed again, its silence punctuated only by a wisp of smoke that threaded through the window like a fine line, disappearing into the air without a trace.

She spent an hour practicing her swordsmanship in the forest, and by the time she returned, the sun was setting behind the mountains, and the door was still closed.

Yu’er headed to the kitchen, which was small but well-equipped. She started a fire and cooked a meal, then carried a portion to the door and announced, “Elder, it’s getting late. It’s time for dinner.”

No response came from inside, so Yu’er placed the tray at the door, adding, This Junior will come back later to clean up the dishes.”

As Yu’er turned to leave, the voice from inside finally spoke, “I know what Yun Wangran is plotting I won’t take a disciple. You don’t need to go through all this trouble. You might as well leave early.”

Yu’er responded firmly, “This junior is only doing what a junior should do.”

The room fell silent for a while. Du Zhong then said, “Forget it. If you wish to do so, then so be it.”

Yu’er returned to her room. As autumn approached, night fell earlier. The moon hung on the willow branches.

When she stepped out later, the tray of food she had left at the door was empty. Bending down, Yu’er picked up the tray and took it back to the kitchen to wash.

For half a month, Yu’er spent her days practicing the sword and would return at mealtime to cook, leaving a portion at Du Zhong’s door and cleaning up afterwards before heading back to the forest to continue her practice.

Du Zhong spent most of his time in the house meditating. Occasionally, Yu’er saw him chopping wood or hunting, but the door was mostly closed, and their interactions were limited to those few words on the first day.

One night, just as Yu’er was settling down to sleep after meditating, she heard a strange noise outside her window. Her expression tightened as a shadow broke through the window and a sword, gleaming coldly, stabbed towards her. Rolling to the side, Yu’er grabbed the sword hanging on the wall and engaged the intruder.

The fight moved from the house to the courtyard. The intruder was powerful, and after dozens of exchanges, Yu’er began to falter, yet something felt off.

The intruder was far stronger than her, and could easily overpower or kill her, yet he held back.

As Yu’er contemplated her next move, the intruder closed in and struck her shoulder with a palm strike. It was a forceful blow that sent her crashing into the house, breaking open the door and tumbling inside, yet she sustained no internal injuries.

The attacker followed swiftly, his sword coiling like a silver snake around Yu’er’s arm.

A slight mistake could cripple her arm. Her pupils dilated, she thrust her sword into the ground and leapt back, like a fish jumping over a river, and positioned herself behind him. Her sword thrust was crisp, aimed at his back.

The intruder, far superior in skill, managed to counter Yu’er’s surprise attack. His sword spun around as if he had eyes in the back of his head, blocking her strike.

Yu’er remained calm. The intruder’s earlier move had exposed a weakness.

That technique was unmistakably the ‘Dragon Flies, Snake Dances’ of Mingjian Manor. No doubt, this was her granduncle Yun Wangran, though his reasons for this charade were unclear.

Indeed, it was Yun Wangran who had attacked under the cover of night, hoping to provoke Du Zhong. He wanted to see if Du Zhong would remain impassive when faced with a threat to his old friend’s kin, or if he would intervene. If Du Zhong remained indifferent, then there was no hope for apprenticeship, and he would take Yu’er back. If, however, he chose to act, it showed he wasn’t completely heartless, and there might still be a chance to persuade him, possibly allowing Yu’er to stay and gradually wear him down.

The fight had moved inside Du Zhong’s room, and Yun Wangran was about to strike hard when suddenly, a figure appeared and grabbed Yu’er’s wrist, holding the sword. Yu’er had no strength to resist.

Du Zhong stared at Yu’er, breathing heavily, “That sword technique, where did you learn it?”

Du Zhong had been listening to the commotion from the beginning and observing secretly. He had seen all the sword techniques Yu’er used, and the move she used against Yun Wangran’s ‘Dragon Flies, Snake Dances’ was deeply etched in his mind; he could not mistake it.

After a moment of silence, Yu’er, with a look of dejection, confessed, “It was taught to this junior by someone dear to my heart.”

This was the sword technique Qing Jiu had taught her. Qing Jiu had instructed her not just in the techniques of Wuwei Palace but in many profound martial arts disciplines that were not easily mastered by outsiders, a fact that had always puzzled Yu’er.

This particular technique was taught last year during the Double Ninth Festival after Qing Jiu had drunk some wine. The technique, intricate and designed to control an opponent from a disadvantageous position, was called ‘Sword Points Southeast.’ It was not easy to master. Afterwards, Qing Jiu seemed to change her mind and asked her not to practice this move. Initially, she thought it was because the technique was too difficult.

But when Qing Jiu insisted that she must never use this move in front of others, Yu’er realized that he had taught her the move on a whim.

However, the technique was especially useful when at a disadvantage, and now, facing Yun Wangran, she had used it without hesitation, not expecting Du Zhong to notice.

Upon hearing Yu’er mention someone dear to her, Yun Wangran’s eyes widened in shock, “What? A lover? How come I didn’t know about this!”

Du Zhong’s breathing became more labored as he demanded, “Where is he? Where is this person?”

Yu’er replied, “She…”

Biting her lower lip, her eyes filled with pain, “She has disappeared… her fate is unknown…”

Du Zhong took two steps back and leaned against the table, looking exhausted. On the left side of the room, there was a small Buddhist shrine with a memorial tablet and three sticks of incense. The three dots of fiery red light flickered intermittently. He looked at the memorial tablets, his eyes moistening. Suddenly, he threw his head back and started laughing, then crying, and laughing again, his expression bordering on madness.

Even Yun Wangran found the scene unbearable and moved to comfort him. Du Zhong looked down with a bitter smile, “It’s fate, all fate.”

Du Zhong looked at Yu’er and said, “I will teach you martial arts, I am willing to impart all my skills to you.”

Yu’er was stunned and was about to bow as a disciple. Du Zhong shook his head, “No need for formalities.”

“Go out. Let me be alone for a while.”

Realizing he had been recognized, Yun Wangran, feeling awkward and at a loss for words, led Yu’er out of the room.

The door was damaged and could only be half-closed. As Yu’er was closing it, she saw Du Zhong kneeling on a mat, bowing deeply toward the Buddhist shrine.

The next day, having achieved his goal, Yun Wangran returned alone to Mingjian Manor. Before leaving, he tried every means possible, hinting and probing, wanting to ask about the person dear to Yu’er’s heart.

However, seeing her downcast expression and unwillingness to talk much, he assumed it was some young master who had toyed with his great-niece’s affections and broken her heart. Secretly fuming, but deeming it inappropriate to inquire further, he left with a stern face, planning to investigate the men Yu’er had met during her travels. That, however, is a story for another time.

After agreeing to teach Yu’er martial arts, Du Zhong did as he promised, instructing her daily in sword techniques with great dedication and without reservation.

Yu’er devoted herself to her training from early morning until evening, pushing herself even harder than Du Zhong required, focusing solely on her skills without allowing herself to think of anything else.

By the end of the year, she returned to the Jun family for a visit and spent the New Year there.

On New Year’s Eve, Yu’er absentmindedly cooked a pot of longevity noodles, enough to serve up to ten bowls. Looking at the table set for only Qi Tianzhu, she realized she had made too much.

Qi Tianzhu chuckled after finishing a bowl: “Girl, your cooking has improved.”

Yet Yu’er simply replied, “Not as good as hers.”

By the end of the year, there was still no news of Qing Jiu, and there had been no progress in Yan Li’s situation either.

After the New Year, Yu’er returned to Du Zhong’s place. Seasons changed swiftly, and another year passed in a blink. This year, she did not return to the Jun family but continued her quiet cultivation and sword practice at Du Zhong’s, sending only a letter back to Jiuxiao Manor.

After more than four years, one day, Du Zhong asked Yu’er, “I heard from Wangran that Jie Qianchou had once imparted a layer of cultivation to you.”

Yu’er confirmed, “Yes.”

“Have you fully assimilated it?”

“It’s all assimilated now.”

Du Zhong nodded and lowered his gaze. “That’s good then. Come here.”

Du Zhong nodded and motioned her inside the room, pointing to a mat, “Sit down.”

Yu’er, sensing what was coming, hesitated, “Elder…”

Having known her intelligence over the years, Du Zhong figured she had guessed his intentions and reassured her, “My decision is made. You don’t need to worry. Since you can accept Jie Qianchou’s cultivation, mine won’t be a problem either.”

Yu’er was silent for a moment. Although she felt unworthy of receiving it, she didn’t refuse and sat down on the mat.

Du Zhong began to transmit his cultivation to Yu’er, initially testing to see if her body would reject it. Seeing that she was receptive, he gradually imparted more.

Yu’er thought he might transfer a layer or two of cultivation, perhaps three or four at most. She never imagined he would pass on all his accumulated essence. In jianghu, who would hand over the essence of their lifelong cultivation to another?

Yu’er truly couldn’t understand why Du Zhong did this. She had no time to ponder as her body swelled and became uncomfortable, nearly unbearable. Had it not been for her greatly improved foundation over the past few years, she certainly would not have been able to endure it.

Yu’er finished the cultivation and regulated her breathing, her body covered in cold sweat. When she turned to look at Du Zhong, he appeared even older, his eyes gradually becoming cloudy.

“Elder, why…” she began.

Du Zhong weakly lifted his hand, saying, “You can go now. Everything I could teach you, you’ve learned. From now on, you just need to practice diligently. With your temperament, in another year or two, your swordsmanship will be perfect.”

“Elder,” Yu’er said.

“Go now, and don’t come back.”

Yu’er knew Du Zhong was a man of his word; feeling helpless, she stepped back, knelt down, and bowed to him. Du Zhong, however, turned away, refusing to accept her gesture.

Yu’er stood up and bowed again, saying, “Thank you for your teachings, Elder. Yu’er will never forget your kindness. Please take care of yourself, Elder.”

Yu’er packed her belongings and looked back at the wooden cabin one last time. Snow fell and melted, flowers bloomed and withered. In the deep forest, time seemed to stand still. The place hadn’t changed a bit since she first arrived.

Yet four years had passed.

Having completed her training, Yu’er returned to Jiuxiao Manor. Jun Lin was overjoyed and held a banquet to welcome her. However, he noticed that his daughter had become even more withdrawn, indifferent to any turmoil around her, devoting herself solely to practicing her swordsmanship, resembling a true martial arts fanatic. This caused Jun Lin another round of worries, and he discussed it with Qi Tianzhu several times, but Qi Tianzhu had no solution either.

That year, Yan Beili was contemplating stepping down, gradually relinquishing his duties as the head of Mingjian Manor, passing the responsibilities to Yu’er.

While residing at Jiuxiao Manor, Yu’er found it challenging to manage all the affairs of Mingjian Manor, including its many business holdings. Many of these tasks had previously been handled by Yan Beili’s eldest son, Yan Siguo, and Yu’er decided to continue letting him manage the manor, only consulting her for major decisions.

As seasons changed, another year passed. Around the time of Jingzhe, with the thunder of spring, Yu’er dreamt of Qing Jiu for the first time in a long while.

Qing Jiu stood under a peach blossom tree, her clothes fluttering in the breeze, smiling at her.

“I’ve missed you,” said Yu’er.

“I have to go,” replied Qing Jiu.

“Where are you going?”

Yu’er walked towards her, but the distance didn’t close at all.

Qing Jiu turned around, looking into the distance, and said, “I have to go.”

With a gentle step forward, Qing Jiu began to walk away. Yu’er’s heart raced, and she hastened her steps, but she couldn’t get closer. Instead, they grew further and further apart.

“Wait, Qing Jiu!”

“You promised! You said you would wait for me, wait for us to be together! Qing Jiu, don’t go!!”

Qing Jiu never looked back, her figure getting farther and farther away. “You made me wait too long.”

Yu’er reached out her hand, grasping only at emptiness as a gust scattered peach blossoms around her.

Yu’er woke up suddenly, her hand still extended in the air, her breath quick, her clothes soaked with sweat.

Yu’er silently got up, changed her clothes, and with no further desire to sleep, stepped out of her room. She smelled a faint fragrance and noticed a hint of pink in her eyes.

She turned to look and saw a peach tree in the courtyard in full bloom.

Normally, the bloom of peach trees at this time was expected, but this tree had been thought dead. Though it had never been truly lifeless, always sprouting buds that withered before they could flourish. It had never bloomed before.

The servants thought the tree was dead and wanted to dig it up to replant a new sapling, but Yu’er stopped them.

She liked peach blossoms, and by extension, the peach tree itself; even if it was a dead tree, she did not wish to remove it.

Yet tonight, it had bloomed.

Yu’er said melancholically, “Even you have bloomed.”

Six years had passed since that spring, and there was still no trace of her, as if she had vanished into thin air. However, as time went on, Yu’er became increasingly convinced that she was not dead. There was always a nameless thought in her heart that she must be alive somewhere.

Yu’er fetched a jug of wine and took a seat at the stone table in the courtyard, captivated by the lush, full blossoms adorning the tree. Entranced by the beautiful sight, she found herself walking under the tree and wrapping her arms around its trunk.

Yu’er plucked a branch of peach blossoms and returned to the table. A gentle breeze passed, and a petal fell into her wine cup, creating ripples of gold.

Yu’er sat at the table and downed the wine in one gulp, reciting, “Peach blossoms bloom in the dead of night, A gentle breeze caresses the jade cup.”

“Wherever my gaze lingers, there lies the person dear to my heart.”

The person dear to my heart…

After all these years, Yu’er’s tolerance for alcohol hadn’t increased much; after a few drinks, she slumped over the stone table, her vision blurred but still fixed on the peach blossoms.

Waking to the sound of birds in the clear morning, Yu’er woke up with the sun already bright. She held her forehead and looked at the tree, realizing that what she saw last night was not a dream.

Just as she was holding the peach blossom branch, someone burst through the gate, waving a letter and exclaiming, “Third Miss! A letter has arrived from Yanyu Pavilion!”

Translation note:
Double Ninth Festival – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Double_Ninth_Festival

Jingzhe – https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jingzhe