Han Shan's Sword Unsheathed Chapter 3 107 Feb 06, 2019

Chapter 3. Empty Beauty

Que Xianming, in the process of planning to rescue his friend, had anticipated the possibility of being discovered by Han Shan's most powerful individuals. He would have cut off his tail should the circumstance ask for it and prepared himself for a bloody escape, but everything was unpredictably smooth sailing. He thought he would get out without any troubles, but of course something unexpected happened… What a headache.

Meng Xueli gestured for him to stay silent while picking the boy up.

Looking at his calm demeanor, Que Xianming thought the other man was going to kill off the boy to get rid of a witness; he pitied the boy's bad luck.

Meng Xueli transferred his own spiritual energy, and Liu Xiaohuai slowly awoke, his eyes blinking hazily. Then suddenly, he raised a finger to point at Que Xianming:

"Elder Meng! I'm the real Liu Xiaohuai! He's a demon, no, he's impersonating me! How dare you trick our elder in our territory, you thief!" His pupils widened and his entire body shivered in fear. He pushed Meng Xueli behind him, face deathly pale, "Don't be scared, Elder! I will report this to the Hall of Attendants, no, I will report to the Patriarch, so that he can come and extinguish this demonic spirit…"

He pulled out a sword made of peach blossom wood from his storage bag afterwards.

He was only bluffing about contacting the Patriarch—he had no idea how to do that, the most intimidating figure he had ever known was the Head Deacon—hoping that it was enough to scare away the demon.

That put Que Xianming in a playful mood. He used two fingers to hold the quivering sword, and with only a slight amount of strength applied, there was a "Crack!" and half of the sword was thrown away, falling into the unknown depth below them.

Liu Xiaohuai startled, crying out, "Elder Meng, run, quickly!"

Que Xianming looked at Meng Xueli in speechless astonishment. How far have you managed to build that "delicate and fragile" image while you spent the recent years eating your life away? He thought.

How shameless it was to trick even a seven-year-old boy!

Meng Xueli glared back at him, rubbing his nose in embarrassment. He bent down to talk to the boy, "Xiaohuai, that is my friend, he was only messing with you. He intentionally wore your face to tease you, and for that I apologize on his behalf. As for your sword, I will make it up to you tomorrow, I will make you an even better one…"

Que Xianming returned to his original appearance, unsure what was going on. Meng Xueli's voice was gentle and unhurried as he continued. "Today is the grand funeral of my cultivation partner, and since he feared that I was in too much grief, he paid me a visit. Unfortunately the timing was inconvenient, I have to go to the ancestral hall now. Can you help me take him back to the Peak for a quick rest?"

The boy stopped crying, wiping his face carelessly. His face turned from white to pink as he did a formal greeting at Que Xianming's direction, "Apologies for my lack of manner. Please follow me, Sir."

Liu Xiaohuai felt like he had harmed Chang Chun Peak's reputation. The guest was only joking around a little to cheer Elder Meng up, but he had overreacted, showing his inexperience. How nice of Elder Meng to comfort him instead of berating his lack of manners.

Que Xianming frowned, his gaze towards Meng Xueli clearly saying Is this really a thing?

No need to murder, no need to run for your life, no need to alert the Han Shan Sword Formation; people will believe you the moment you open your mouth? Is the cold and ruthless Han Shan Sect really that nice?

Meng Xueli did not look back at him, only patting the young boy's head lovingly. "Go."

Que Xianming changed his mind, it was himself who was a fool. Outsiders all knew Meng Xueli as the one who struck gold by being married to Ji Xiao and the least daring individual to ever existed; without Ji Xiao there would be no place else for him in the world. Who would ever suspect a person like that?

Once Que Xianming followed the boy past the suspension bridge, he could breathe in the air that was heavy with spiritual energy and see the exuberant spring-like scenery, decorated with beautiful structures. The view would never be tiring to look at. "About your Elder Meng, what does he do usually?" He could not help but ask.

The boy answered respectfully, "The Elder lives a simple life, he likes to be close to nature. The hypericum blossom trees here are all planted and tended to by him. He often sits under the trees to drink wine and read novels-" coughed, "-read cultivation sacred books. He also has three pet carps and a litter of money shrews1."

No wonder Meng Xueli didn't bother to escape, Que Xianming thought. Ji Xiao was clearly an exceptional person to have created this fairyland which could rival the work of Heaven.

Considering that Meng Xueli was cared for with such thoughtfulness, he was afraid that his friend would never bother with the Demon King title again even if it was given to him for free!

"Has Elder Meng arrived yet?" Han Shan's Patriarch summoned the Deacon and asked in a low voice.

The Deacon replied, "We have sent someone to invite him."

In the public square outside the ancestral hall, over a thousand of elite inner disciples had finished reading the sacred book. It was now the time for guests inside the hall to offer condolences in order.

The Seacon was somewhat worried. Elder Meng was both young and unsophisticated; it was easy for him to make a fool of himself during an important situation. But as he was Ji Xiao-zhenren's only family member, it would be against tradition if he did not attend and burn incense for his partner. He could only hope that nothing would go wrong.

"Elder Meng is here—" A young Deacon announced while they were talking.

After dealing with the trouble on the mountain path, Meng Xueli hurried here at once. The coil of his hair had started to loosen, and coupled with the breathlessness, there was quite a "troubled widower after partner's death" air about him.

The ancestral hall of Han Shan was a large structure. Gentle smoke pervaded the air, and the candle light was faint.

At the end of the hall, near the wall was a massive display of memorial tablets. The layers upon layers made it look like a pagoda extending to the roof of the hall. The names on those tablets watched over everyone through the smoke and flame.

The moment Meng Xueli walked through the door, hundreds of eyes were on him. He was clueless about where to head to, and so for a few seconds he was startled into standing still.

The Patriarch, the Peak Masters and Elders—the hosts—lined both side of the hall.

The other sects—the guests—were in the middle of the hall, standing in an orderly fashion with clear boundaries despite different clothing.

That left only him, who seemed like a lost half-host-half-guest, bewildered under people's scrutiny.

Meng Xueli was not feeling at all embarrassed, in fact, he was about to greet all these important figures. After three years of being separated from the outside world, there was a burning urge inside him to communicate every time he saw a person.

"Xueli, you have come. My condolences."

The crowd made way for an old man in white robes. He had a thin face and a hale and hearty spirit.

Meng Xueli nodded and returned the greeting: "Patriarch."

The nearest Peak Master also stepped forward for a greeting and lead him inside. At this moment, in front of outsiders, he represented Ji Xiao.

Meng Xueli came at the right time; the guests had finished with their condolences. Representatives of numerous sects from far away came here not just to offer an incense, but also to discuss other matters.

Feeling that it was the time, they were about to raise questions. But then important figures of Han Shan all turned towards the door to welcome a young master in embroidered robes.

His robes were in light purple, worn with a silver-colored cloak that also had a hood. The cloak was lined with white fur, accentuating his unblemished skin and delicate features. He held a small heater in his hands.

With every footstep inside, he seemed to illuminate the dim and solemn ancestral hall in a split second.

Everyone seemed to remain quiet, but in actuality many were gossiping using the Silent Voice technique.

"How ostentatious! Which Elder is this?"

"He is Ji Xiao-zhenren's cultivation partner. Regarding position, he is on the same level as Han Shan's Patriarch; higher than us even."

"So it is him, Meng Xueli. I heard that he only channeled his vital energy three years ago, and now… Not bad, his energy is quite well-rounded."

"How can it not be? He lived with Ji Xiao-zhenren, the amount of spiritual medicine he consumed every day should be enough for even a mortal to channel their energy."

"Stop arguing, at the moment he's someone in grief."

Meng Xueli was the black sheep of the cultivation world: He had no need to either cultivate his life away to prove his worth to the sect, or to fight for cultivation resources with others. He shared his partner's fortunes, and Ji Xiao must have found ways to extend his life; there was a possibility that he could even come with his partner when the latter ascended.

His very existence was the embodiment of the saying "Heaven despises the hardworking".

Back when their wedding ceremony had ended, he was the topic of every discussion. Most people were likely to have said, "It's true that he's beautiful, but…"

It was a pity that he was such a vulgar thing. Compared to Ji Xiao's divine disposition, Meng Xueli was unbearably uncouth. But fearing the zhenren's power, only half of the sentence was said out loud.

While others decorated their place with pines, cypresses or bamboos to show a vigorous aura, Meng Xueli preferred the tasteless hypericum blossoms. While others raised cranes and blue birds2, Meng Xueli had koi carps for pets—explaining that they would help change his fate—and money shrews for wealth seeking. He had single-handedly dragged down the entire standard of Han Shan.

But at the moment, there was no envy when people talked about him, only a mix of pity, sighs and delight in his misfortunes; as if they would inevitably witness his miserable downfall in the future.

Footnotes.

1 The original word is 金钱鼠, which usually refers to the golden-colored mouse statue on top of a pile of coins, used as a house decoration since it symbolises wealth. In context it's probably a species of mice the author made up for the story.

2 In Chinese myths, this species of bird is said to be the messenger of the goddess Queen Mother of the West.

Translators's Notes. I made a silly mistake with the pinyin of the title 真人, it was supposed to be zhenren; I have fixed everything in the previous chapters too.

Bonus: that I found and really like ❤️