Chapter 14

Hate is an emotion that humans can never erase. Because of hate, there is love, and because of love, there is hate. Over and over, who can truly see and explain it clearly?

The old man with white eyebrows helped Zhao Yougong to his feet and carefully examined him, as if trying to imprint Zhao Yougong's appearance in his mind. After so many years, the old man had never looked at him like this, making Zhao Yougong feel as if he were about to part ways. Instinctively, Zhao Yougong raised his head and asked urgently, "Master, is something wrong?"

"Yes, Jiulang, after so many years, I have taught you almost everything I can. What happens in the future depends on your own destiny. After we part today, we may meet again in a year or in ten years!"

"Master? You're leaving?" Zhao Yougong suddenly became anxious. His eyes were slightly moist, and he grabbed the old man's sleeve, "Master, disciple..."

"Jiulang, don't act like a child. It's not a matter of life and death, so why be sad? If we have the chance, we will meet again. As for you, there's no need to look for me!" The old man extended his aged hand and slowly wiped away the tears from Zhao Yougong's eyes. After more than a decade of interaction, he had long regarded Zhao Yougong as his own descendant. How could such a bond be easily severed? However, this disciple had grown up, and he had his own ideas and his own path to walk. As a teacher, he should let him explore freely rather than hold him back, for everyone's life is different, and no one can or has the right to change it.

Sighing deeply, the old man with white eyebrows said with a heavy heart, "Jiulang, remember, don't be too fixated on hate. Sometimes, hate can blind you. If anything happens in the future, just tell Dugu. Don't easily reveal your skills. No matter what, remember that I will always be watching over you, so you are not alone!"

The old man did not stay for long. After leaving an ancient book, he left this place of sorrow. In the locust forest, the locust flowers were in full bloom, their fragrance intoxicating. Outside the forest, the old man with white eyebrows walked swiftly, light as a swallow, but his aged face was already drenched in tears, "Zhao Yougong, you are in my heart, I will always be with you."

Holding the nameless yellow book in his hands, Zhao Yougong felt a mix of emotions. Master had left just like that? Opening the yellow book, he saw the first page densely filled with words, and from the handwriting, he knew it was Master's own writing.

"Let him be strong, the wind will still blow over the mountain. Let him be fierce, the moon will still shine on the river. The dynamics of movement and stillness, the balance of yin and yang, hands embrace the moon, and the child presents auspiciousness. Draw the energy of heaven and earth, the vitality of the dantian, gather the power from all directions, open the palace, and the Ren and Du meridians will naturally flow."

Reading these words, Zhao Yougong felt a sense of familiarity. "Let him be strong, the wind will still blow over the mountain. Let him be fierce, the moon will still shine on the river." These were not the general principles of the *Nine Yang Scripture*? Suddenly, Zhao Yougong was stunned. Master said the book contained his life's work. Could it be that the *Nine Yang Scripture* was created by Master?

Closing the book, he saw Dugu Qiubai still leaning against the locust tree with his eyes half-closed. Zhao Yougong frowned, wiped away the moisture from his eyes, and said hoarsely, "Dugu, can you now explain what's going on?"

"Ask!"

"How did you meet my master?"

"Through a duel!"

"Why do you obey me?"

"I lost, so I have to keep the bet!"

"How many years do you have to serve me?"

"Three years!"

After a few casual questions, Zhao Yougong had a general understanding. It seemed that Dugu Qiubai had gone to challenge his master, and they had made a bet. If Dugu Qiubai lost, he would have to help Zhao Yougong. The unbeaten Dugu Qiubai had indeed lost and ended up here. Probably due to his pride, Dugu Qiubai was not entirely convinced and wanted to challenge Zhao Yougong, leading to what happened later.

Glancing at Dugu Qiubai with a hint of malice, Zhao Yougong tucked the yellow book into his chest and chuckled, "Where did you find my master?"

"Shaolin Temple, the Sutra Pavilion!"

"Hmm?" Zhao Yougong became even more curious, "Dugu, why did you go to the Sutra Pavilion? If you wanted to duel, you should have gone to the Arhat Hall!"

Asked this way, Dugu Qiubai's proud face showed a hint of unease. He straightened his body, hugged his long sword, and walked out of the forest, coldly saying a few words, "Asking a known question!"

Seeing Dugu Qiubai's reaction, Zhao Yougong knew he had guessed correctly. He chased after him and laughed, "Dugu, I didn't expect you to have the hobby of a thief, running to the Sutra Pavilion to steal secret texts!"

After a few sarcastic remarks, Zhao Yougong suddenly thought of something and quickly asked, "One last question, what was my master doing in the Sutra Pavilion?"

"Sweeping the floor!"

Zhao Yougong stood there, stunned, his mind buzzing. Everything was in chaos, everything was in chaos. This late Northern Song Dynasty was truly a mess, and his master was actually the legendary Sweeping Monk...

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Zhao Yougong didn't care where Dugu Qiubai was staying, because no matter where he went, Dugu Qiubai would find a way to inform him. After the night's events, Zhao Yougong secretly returned to the Chu Wang's mansion. At this time, the sisters Muxue and Muxue were sleeping soundly, and Zhao Yougong didn't want to disturb them. In fact, the two sisters had been put to sleep by a sleeping spell, and even if they wanted to stay awake, they couldn't. Zhao Yougong took off his clothes and got into bed, and only after lying down and making sure there were no signs of disturbance did he release the sleeping spell on the two sisters.

That night, Zhao Yougong closed his eyes but couldn't fall asleep. Meeting Dugu Qiubai and discovering that his master was the legendary Sweeping Monk, everything had happened too suddenly. In comparison, the matter of Nian Nu seemed insignificant.

At the third watch of the night, a light was lit on the Xie Fang Tower. Nian Nu pouted and played with the letter in her hand. Should she read it now or wait until tomorrow? After much hesitation, she couldn't resist her curiosity and opened the letter, taking out the paper inside. The paper was soft and emitted a faint scent of Huizhou ink. The spring breeze brought warmth into the room, and the sleeping people continued to sleep, while Nian Nu studied the poem with a smile on her face.

"A hundred miles of yellow sand, hooves galloping, the wind blows, and arrows rain down at the Jade Gate. In dreams, the road to heaven is faint, in the mist, a long song ends in Dunhuang. Steep mountains, fierce ghosts, and hellfire, women in battle, fighting in all directions. Red faces on the golden sand beach, in the world, heroes do not seek to return home."

The candlelight flickered, and a simple *Ding Feng Bo* (Calming the Storm) made Nian Nu a bit lost in thought. The poem was full of heroism and filled with the spirit of a man, but upon closer inspection, it was all about the women who fought on the battlefield. The road to heaven in Dunhuang, the hellfire in the mountains, and the golden sand beach where they fought in the wind and blood—was this about the Yang family's women warriors or about Nian Nu herself?

Who says women are inferior to men? In this era of literary prosperity and the decline of martial arts, at least Nian Nu knew that the Liao people's iron hooves were approaching.

The *Ding Feng Bo* was tailor-made for Nian Nu. She seemed to see a woman in a cloak, holding a long spear, facing a thousand troops and the sound of war drums, yet she was fearless.

Nian Nu smiled, her smile filled with fascination and intoxication. Ha, what a deep and hidden little prince, with both martial skills and scholarly talent. What did he want? Was it just revenge or survival? No, it was not. From the poem, it was clear that a person who aimed for revenge would not look to the distant desert of Dunhuang.

The Jade Gate Pass was now in the hands of the Western Xia, the famous pass of the Tang Dynasty in the Western Regions had fallen to the Western Xia. Suzhou and Guazhou were the eternal pain of the Song Dynasty. Recapturing the Jade Gate Pass and fighting again on the golden sand beach, was there anyone else in the Song Dynasty who dared to think this way?

Huairen's golden sand beach, where the Yang family of Linzhou had sworn to defend, ultimately fell to the Liao people, and even the vast Datong Prefecture became the Western Capital of the Liao. Shame, but how many people still remembered this shame? In the Song Dynasty, with so many men, how many could compare to Nian Nu, a mere woman?

Standing by the window, Nian Nu smiled like the spring breeze, infinitely gentle.

The moon was dim, the Bian River had sunk, and the flickering candlelight burned away the loneliness.

This night was a sleepless night. Nian Nu stood by the window, gazing into the distance, while in the De Yue Tower, a stunningly beautiful woman in white gazed at the dim moonlight in confusion.

For some reason, Shishi couldn't sleep, even with the emperor by her side. The cool breeze blew, and she heard footsteps behind her. Without turning around, she knew it was the emperor.

Rubbing his eyes, Emperor Zhezong embraced the beauty's shoulder and asked softly, "Shishi, why aren't you sleeping? Is there something on your mind?"

"Nothing, I just can't sleep. Your Majesty doesn't need to worry about me!" Shishi smiled faintly. Her smile was not particularly charming, but Emperor Zhezong loved it immensely, perhaps because of Shishi's cold nature, which made him unable to let go.

Shishi did have something on her mind, but she didn't dare to say it directly. She was thinking about that good-for-nothing little prince. Why was she thinking about him? Even Shishi didn't know. The flower queen competition, she might lose, and the little prince of Zhao seemed capable of creating a miracle, just like the unique pig-fighting competition that day. Not only because of Zhao Yougong, but Shishi herself also hoped to lose. Over the years, she was tired and weary. She wanted to see what it would be like not to be the flower queen anymore. Would the emperor still linger in her boudoir?

As the flower queen, she might never achieve a perfect ending, but Shishi didn't want to live a life of aimlessness.

Looking up, a meteor streaked across the sky, leaving a long trail, as if foretelling a lifetime of misfortune.

That rogue little prince, his words that day had awakened her heart. Shishi understood, so she no longer wanted to be the flower queen. Flower queen, flower queen, in the end, wasn't she just a woman of the world? The candlelight flickered, and in her dreams, she cried, but when she woke up, she smiled. It had always been like this.

There was no song in the room, and the spring breeze made the fireworks lonely.