Chapter 123: Joined by hair as husband and wife, bound by unwavering love
Between Buddha and Demon (Part One)
“If Third Miss Jun wants to find her, she can head to West Lake. Her master, remembering the bond of master and disciple over the years, honored her last wish by cremating her body into ashes and scattering them at West Lake, allowing their family to reunite on the road to the afterlife.”
Yu’er bit her lower lip, falling silent for a long time before looking up at Qing Jiu with eyes reflecting the deep autumn waters. “Miss Zhi Huan is right. I do believe you are Qing Jiu.”
“Aren’t you?” came a gentle yet stubborn voice.
Qing Jiu choked up, her clenched hands behind her back trembling slightly. She closed her eyes, and replied in a calm, clear voice, “I am not.”
“Why do you always avoid me, then?” Yu’er asked.
“An assassin lives a solitary life, coming and going without attachments,” Qing Jiu explained. “I observed that Third Miss Jun harbored special feelings for that person. To misplace such devotion on me would only lead to unnecessary complications and trouble.”
“I am trouble,” Yu’er flatly stated.
“Third Miss Jun, you followed me all the way to Wujin City, keeping watch over Qin Feng and trying to uncover my true identity… There’s no need to deny it. To avoid you, I instructed Kui Shan to delay your companions. My assassination attempt on Qin Feng at the Wenwu Sect was interrupted by your people, alerting the elders. We had no conflict; we were not enemies, yet you created all these problems, nearly costing me my life. Wouldn’t you consider that troublesome?” Qing Jiu argued.
Yu’er wouldn’t let her off easily, pressing on, “Then why did you risk your life to save me?”
“Having the favor of both Jiuxiao Manor and Mingjian Manor is always beneficial. Third Miss Jun, we’ve shared hardships, and because of that, I’m speaking openly with you. There’s an assassin from the Tang Sect among you, and you should understand how assassins operate. I ask that you, Third Miss Jun, in light of our shared adversity and the life debt, to cease making things difficult for me. If you still wish to learn more about that trai… Qing Jiu, you can go to the Ghost Sect to find her master, who knows more details,” Qing Jiu explained.
Yu’er remained silent, her gaze never leaving Qing Jiu. The intensity of her stare felt scorching, as if it could burn through Qing Jiu’s very core.
After a moment, Yu’er said, “Miss Zhi Huan, I have one last question for you.”
“Please ask.”
“Why do you always wear a mask?” Yu’er inquired. “Is that also how an assassin operates?”
This time, it was Qing Jiu’s turn to fall silent. She looked outside to the misty rain and finally softened her voice, “Third Miss Jun, you may find this amusing, but I once had someone I loved dearly…”
A gentle breeze rustled through the room, carrying a sense of wistful longing.
“I loved her, cherished her, and couldn’t forget her, but fate cruelly tore us apart. By covering my face, I pretend that Zhi Huan no longer exists in this world, leaving only the Ghost Sect assassin. It helps me suppress the pain of longing for her. Though it’s a form of self-deception, it provides some solace. That’s why I never remove my mask in front of others.”
Qing Jiu turned back and bowed to Yu’er. Yu’er turned her face away, refusing to accept the gesture.
“Our paths crossed by chance, Third Miss Jun,” Qing Jiu continued, “and we’ve shared a journey together. I came to bid you farewell out of respect for that connection. We were on different paths, and we remain so. I hope you’ve taken my words to heart. From this day forward, we shall not meet again. May you enjoy good health and a prosperous life, Third Miss Jun.”
Yu’er sensed Qing Jiu’s resolute determination. Pursuing her further would only lead to Qing Jiu resorting to extreme measures to break free, leaving no room for reconciliation.
As Qing Jiu stepped out of the room onto the cobblestone path in the courtyard, the rain seemed to intensify.
“Stop!”
Yu’er rushed out barefoot. Jun Sixue tried to stop her, concerned about Yu’er’s injuries and her disregard for her own health, but before she could step forward, Qi Tianzhu held her back with a shake of his head.
Yu’er caught up to Qing Jiu and declared, “I don’t believe you.” Her voice was as heavy as the rainy sky.
When Qing Jiu turned to leave, Yu’er swiftly embraced her from behind, her grip tight around Qing Jiu’s waist. “Why won’t you acknowledge me?”
Yu’er reached for her waist and into her arms, searching for a long while but unable to find what she was looking for: “Where is it? Where is your Shang Sheng?”
As Qing Jiu watched the raindrops fall from the sky, collecting on her mask and trickling down like tears, she sighed softly, “Third Miss Jun, why won’t you believe that you’ve mistaken someone else for me?”
Yu’er’s voice choked up, “I know you’re Qing Jiu. You are Qing Jiu! I know it!”
“Why won’t you recognize me, why can’t you see it’s Yu’er?”
“I can walk beside you now, face any hardship with you. You promised you’d slow down, slow down so I could catch up. I searched for six years, chased you for six years. Don’t leave me again.”
Qing Jiu gripped her Fenghou Sword, using the scabbard to pry Yu’er’s arms away. “Third Miss Jun,” she insisted, her voice unwavering, “you’re mistaken. I am not Qing Jiu.”
The moment Qing Jiu loosened Yu’er’s grip, she immediately pulled away and walked forward, her footsteps resolute and decisive as she strode out of the courtyard.
“Qing Jiu!” Yu’er collapsed to her knees as Qing Jiu suddenly pulled away. She called out to her, but the other didn’t stop or look back.
As the rain soaked her clothes, Yu’er knelt there, looking at an object in her hands, and laughed uncontrollably, “You’re still trying to fool me. How far will you go to deceive me?”
Jun Sixue watched from the side. Although she didn’t understand the whole story, she was overwhelmed with anger, almost wishing she could stab holes in that Zhi Huan. Seeing Yu’er alternating between crying and laughing—a sight she hadn’t seen since Yu’er returned to the Jun family—scared her enough to quickly move forward with an umbrella.
Qi Tianzhu came out of the house with a blanket and wrapped it around Yu’er. He glanced down and saw a handkerchief in her hands, soaked through, embroidered with the character ‘Lin’ on one corner, nothing else.
Qi Tianzhu seemed to understand something as he helped Yu’er into the house, saying, “Second Miss, go get some medicine to ward off the cold.”
“Alright.”
Then, he added, “Girl, take good rest. I will go find Sister Linzhi and Brother Hua Lian to discuss this. You’re still injured; you need to heal first before we can continue investigating Qing Jiu. Don’t act rashly.”
Yu’er held the handkerchief, lost in thought, and did not respond. Qi Tianzhu sighed and left to find Tang Linzhi and Hua Lian.
Qing Jiu left through the Wenwu Sect and looked around, spotting Kui Shan and Xin Chou taking shelter from the rain in a pavilion. Xin Chou, unable to enter the pavilion, huddled miserably at its edge.
Approaching the pavilion, Kui Shan stood to greet her. Qing Jiu extended her hand, and Kui Shan handed her an object from his chest—a dagger with a lock of hair tied around the handle.
Qing Jiu said, “Kui Shan, our debts are settled. From today onwards, you owe me nothing. Return to Hangzhou.”
Kui Shan was stunned, “Benefactor, you… you don’t want me to accompany you anymore?”
Qing Jiu responded, “Your task is complete. Thank you for taking care of me throughout this journey.”
“Benefactor…”
“As we part ways now, we shall never meet again in this lifetime. Take care of yourself.”
Kui Shan opened his mouth several times, unsure of what to say. Finally, he bowed deeply to Qing Jiu, remaining bowed until she turned and left.
As Qing Jiu walked away, Xin Chou hurried to follow her. His unusual appearance drew sideways glances from people on the street.
Qing Jiu glanced back and said, “Stop following me.”
Uncomfortable under the gazes of the people, Xin Chou covered his ears with his hands. Hearing Qing Jiu’s words, he asked, “Master doesn’t want Chou anymore?”
Qing Jiu replied, “Go back to Wenwu Sect and wait for the woman who was with me that day. From now on, she will be your master. Follow her, protect her. She has a kind heart and won’t neglect you.”
“Don’t tell her that I ordered this, and don’t reveal to anyone that you were once with Xuanji Tower. Just go.”
“Master, don’t…”
“Are you disobeying me?” Qing Jiu asked.
With a mournful look, Xin Chou hesitated for a while before finally turning away under Qing Jiu’s gaze. He took a few steps, looked back at Qing Jiu, took a few more, and then looked back again, continuing this way until he reached Wenwu Sect.
Once he was gone, Qing Jiu departed for the inn called ‘Eternal as Heaven and Earth’ to retrieve her horse. She walked straight to the stable in the backyard and stopped there.
The gloomy, rainy weather made it feel as if her heart was being squeezed tight, making it hard to breathe.
She extended her right hand, holding a lock of hair and a hairpin, and stared at them intently. Softly, she murmured, “Joined by hair as husband and wife, bound by unwavering love…”
After that, she shook her head and laughed. She was about to snap the hairpin, but even after a long time, with her clothes and hair completely drenched and raindrops condensing on her mask, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She tucked the items back into her robes, her fingers brushing against empty space. The handkerchief was gone. “You’re stubborn and cunning,” she whispered, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “What am I supposed to do? What am I to do?”
After fetching her horse and mounting, she looked ahead with a hollow gaze.
Know that if I live, I will come back again, and if I die, we will go on thinking of each other.
As Qing Jiu left through the northern gate, passing the city gate, she coincidentally met Yang Chun returning from a funeral. Yang Chun rubbed his eyes, wondering, “Was that Zhi Huan who just passed by?!”
Upon closer inspection, he couldn’t understand why she had left the city alone. He hurried back to the Wenwu Sect to inform Yu’er.
After departing Wujin City, Qing Jiu traveled day and night. Four or five days later, she arrived at the small city of Shouyuan to find someone from the Ghost Sect, only to discover a letter left behind. Qing Jiu had arrived too late; they had already moved on.
Qing Jiu followed the lead to her target, arriving at Sword Saint Du Zhong’s residence by midnight. The first group of assassins was already in position, lying in wait for the deepest part of the night to make their move.
The Judge was cautious, and the operatives involved were highly skilled. Upon Qing Jiu’s arrival, a signal was given and six crossbow bolts were fired, while another six men burst into the house from three directions, a muffled groan emanating from within shortly after.
Qing Jiu strolled confidently to the front door and entered, only to be met with a surprising sight.
An elderly man with white hair slumped on the mat, overpowered and subdued within moments by six swords at his neck—Du Zhong, the legendary sword saint, was captured without a struggle.
“Are you sure this man is Du Zhong?” Qing Jiu asked.
One of the assassins leapt to the rafters to retrieve a sword box, opened it, and drew the long sword inside. It was indeed ‘Wuhen’, the famed blade of the sword saint.
It was strange to see Sword Saint Du Zhong so easily subdued, as if he were utterly helpless.
However, Du Zhong was not entirely without the ability to fight back. Although he had transferred his internal energy to Yu’er, his martial skills were not completely depleted. He refrained from fighting because he knew his enemies had found him. Consumed by guilt, he yearned for death and saw no point in resisting.
Just as one of the assassins was about to swiftly end Du Zhong’s life to fulfill their mission, Du Zhong did not flinch or dodge. As the sword was about to strike, a blade flashed horizontally, cutting the assassin’s sword in two.
The members of the Ghost Sect were shocked, and one turned to Qing Jiu, demanding, “What are you doing!”
Holding her Fenghou sword, Qing Jiu glanced at Du Zhong, expressionless, “It’s obvious. I’m stopping you from killing him.”
“You want to kill him yourself?”
Qing Jiu smiled and replied, “I don’t want him dead.”
“This man is your sworn enemy, and you would spare him? You forsake your revenge?”
“I kill if I wish, spare if I prefer, and do as I please. How I handle my family’s vengeance is none of your concern!”
“You dare defy the Judge’s orders!”
“That’s right!” As she spoke, she struck first. With her martial art skills now among the highest in wulin and holding her Fenghou sword, those who moved against her could barely resist. Within the time it took an incense stick to burn, all thirteen lay dead, slain by her blade.
Qing Jiu approached Du Zhong, the Fenghou Sword dripping with blood. She glanced at the Buddhist statue, a sneer twisting her lips. “After committing sins, you seek divine salvation to protect you from your enemies, don’t you?”
“It’s… it’s the Fenghou Sword,” Du Zhong fixed his eyes on the blade, then shifted his gaze to Qing Jiu’s face, his heart pounding faster and his face flushing. “They said you have a blood-feud with me. Who are you? Are you… are you the last of the Lin clan?”
Du Zhong was desperate for confirmation, his eyes nearly bulging out. Qing Jiu’s cold snort was her response.
She turned and walked out of the house, and Du Zhong staggered to his feet, “You’re… you’re not going to kill me?”
As he followed her outside, he pleaded, “Hurry and kill me! Avenge your family’s hatred!”
Qing Jiu said, “I’m not going to kill you.”
Du Zhong’s eyes were bloodshot. “Why not?!” he cried. “I have the blood of the Lin clan on my hands! You should seek revenge! I’ve spent half my life consumed by regret, waiting for this day!”
Qing Jiu stared at him sideways for a long while before letting out a cold laugh, “You’ve taken in a good disciple. Du Zhong, continue your repentance for the rest of your life.”
With that, Qing Jiu leapt away. Du Zhong staggered after her for a few steps, unable to keep up, and finally collapsed to the ground, despairingly asking, “Why won’t you kill me?”
Qing Jiu didn’t travel far. She found a spot by a stream in the forest and settled down, making no move to leave.
That night, under the full moon, she sat close to a fire in front of her, almost close enough to be scorched by the flames, yet she couldn’t stop shivering.
The Fenghou sword rested beside her as her breathing grew erratic, and her ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. She was too weak to stand.
Three figures emerged from the darkness, stopping by the fire. The leader, a man with narrow eyes and a thin, cruel smile, spoke. “You betrayed the Ghost Gate once,” he sneered, “but I never expected you’d have the guts to do it again.”
“Not only did you spare Du Zhong, but you also murdered your fellow assassins.” He scrutinized her for a moment, noticing she was suffering from the Gu poison. He walked up to Qing Jiu with a cold smile, grabbed her hair, and forced her to look up at him, “You really aren’t afraid of dying, are you?”
The men at his sides laughed mockingly. One remarked, “Lady Qing Jiu is so impressive. I suppose the Heart-Splitting Gu is nothing more than child’s play in your eyes.”
Another man pulled out a porcelain bottle, smiling as he uncorked it and dropped the pills into the fire, where they instantly turned to ash, “Looks like you won’t be needing this antidote anymore.”
They had been ordered to deliver the antidote to Qing Jiu, six pills every three months, and this delivery coincided with the mission involving Du Zhong. As subordinates of Qin Gui, they deeply resented Qing Jiu but were wary of her skills. Now that she had defied Ghost Sect, the sect could no longer protect her. With the onset of the poison, she became vulnerable, and they felt fearless.
The man holding her hair slapped Qing Jiu’s face mockingly, “You’re usually so commanding, why so silent today?”
Her body trembled from the severe pain, which seemed to delight the three men who continued to hurl insults and mock her.
Qing Jiu’s lips moved as if she said something. The man holding her wasn’t sure what she had uttered and leaned closer, asking, “What did you say?”
Qing Jiu drew a slow, deep breath, and her eyes suddenly flashed with a chilling intensity. Before the man could react, a dagger pierced his heart.
Before the other two could react, Qing Jiu had pushed the man away and thrown the Shang Sheng at one of them. The divinely sharp dagger struck the man’s forehead, killing him instantly.
The last one barely had time to dodge before Qing Jiu drew Fenghou and leaped forward, striking him down. Blood spurted from his chest.
In an instant, all three were dead, executed in one fluid sequence.
As her remaining strength left her, Qing Jiu collapsed beside the last man, blood spilling from her mouth. Pain wracked her body in convulsions, and she could no longer grip Fenghou.
“Disciple, you look too miserable, even your master can’t bear to see this.”
Translation notes:
Joined by hair as husband and wife – A Chinese idiom that is often used to express unwavering love and commitment between married couples. In Ancient China, a bride and groom would tie two locks of hair together to show that they are bound together in marriage or intertwined by fate.
—
Know that if I live, I will come back again,
And if I die, we will go on thinking of each other.
This is a well-known line from a poem by Su Wu to his Wife.
