Chapter 165: Wolong and Fengchu

Chapter 165: The Sleeping Dragon and Young Phoenix

Zhao Changhe’s face turned as purple as an eggplant from embarrassment.

He had actually believed that he could “learn sword intent and blade intent just by glancing at it.” Fooling others was one thing, but this time he had even fooled himself.

Had he really learned those things just by looking? It was the gold leaf that had repeatedly slowed down the demonstration, showing him dozens or even hundreds of times until he could mimic it!

Besides, martial arts comprehension seemed to have nothing to do with this... His mind thought he understood after seeing it, but the moment he tried, it all fell apart.

“Uh... I’ll, I’ll come back another day? First, I need to go tell the maid a story...” Seeing the broken string made playing impossible, Zhao Changhe grabbed a flimsy excuse and fled as if escaping for his life.

Tang Wanzhuang kept a straight face as she watched him leave, not breaking her expression until he disappeared around the corner of the waterside pavilion. Suddenly, she let out a soft laugh and murmured, “No wonder he gets along with Buqi. He’s just a big kid at heart.”

Baoqin was sobbing pitifully. “My zither strings...”

“Be good, Baoqin, don’t cry. Tomorrow, I’ll help you beat him up.”

“Miss, will you end up with that stinky bear?” she wailed.

“No, Zhao Changhe is a man Tang Wanzhuang can never have. There, there, your face is all tear-streaked.”

Baoqin looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. “Miss, do you actually want to have him?”

Tang Wanzhuang paused, then chuckled softly. “I was just echoing an old saying. Look at where your mind went. Rather than saying I want him, it’s more like the Great Xia wants him. But let’s hope... it doesn’t turn into a prophecy.”

With that, she rose from her seat and prepared to leave.

Baoqin asked in surprise, “Miss, where are you going?”

“There’s still a mountain of unfinished business in Gusu...” Tang Wanzhuang sighed wearily. “He’s always in a rush, never able to calm his heart—and am I any different? Stealing this half-day of leisure, listening to his story, returning his zither tune... whether it was to calm his heart or give myself a rest, I can no longer tell.”

...

Zhao Changhe scurried back to his guest courtyard, but stopped short at the door.

Sisi was sprawled across his bed, sleeping soundly without a shred of dignity.

Zhao Changhe recalled the casual question he had asked that morning... She might really have had nowhere to sleep last night, probably spending the whole night meditating in some corner.

Given her beauty, she was unlikely to be an ordinary person among the Gulin tribe. She clearly had good nutrition and didn’t need to do rough work. She thought of herself as Duan Yu, and earlier when he guessed she might be a little princess, she didn’t deny it. That must be it. But why would a little princess run off to suffer like this?

And she had no sense of propriety—not just in matters of etiquette and restraint. For instance, back at the White Lotus Temple, when he pressed her to kneel, she actually did. That didn’t seem like a princess at all. What princess would have so little regard for face?

But regardless, they had fought side by side and were now friends. If she wanted to reveal her background when the time was right, she would. Prying would only make things awkward. Zhao Changhe didn’t dwell on it. He pulled a corner of the thin blanket over her and sat by the window to read.

The effect of that zither tune was truly remarkable. His heart was calm now, and even the sweltering summer heat didn’t bother him. Books he could barely read a few lines of before now held his attention.

Looking back, he hadn’t just been in a hurry—he had been running for his life.

Slow down...

Haste makes waste.

The bloodlust coiled around his body and spirit had unknowingly settled like a placid lake. Zhao Changhe even felt that his next episode might be delayed significantly.

On the bed, Sisi opened her eyes. She glanced at the thin blanket covering her, then at Zhao Changhe quietly reading by the window.

Her earlier resentment had unknowingly faded. She just watched him read in silence for a long time.

“Awake?” Zhao Changhe turned a page and asked casually. “Was this the book you were reading before bed?”

Sisi peeked over and saw it was a beginner’s guide to couplets. She said, “Yeah. I wanted to learn about Central Plains culture before, but I always thought martial arts were more important and never had time for this. After listening to your stories, I realized a little learning can be fun, so I grabbed one of the maids’ beginner books.”

“How is it? Fun, right? Couplets.”

“It’s amusing enough, I guess. Not much significance.” Sisi lazily ran her fingers through her hair as she sat up, her graceful figure on full display. But she noticed Zhao Changhe hadn’t even glanced her way—like casting pearls before swine. “Hey, don’t tell me you find couplets more interesting than me?”

“I used to think they were boring too, but now that my mind is calm, I find them fascinating.” Zhao Changhe said leisurely, “The martial world has wine but no poetry—it’s missing something. The Great Xia has Tang Wanzhuang, which fills that gap.”

Sisi was shocked. “You’re talking to me, but you’re thinking about Tang Wanzhuang!”

Zhao Changhe laughed despite himself. “I’m talking about the poetic sentiment she represents, not her as a person. You’re even less cultured than I am.”

“We barbarian girls naturally can’t compare to the Jiangnan elegance of Chief Tang!” Sisi gritted her teeth. “But poetry and couplets are such boring things—I could learn them at a glance. What’s so great about them?”

Zhao Changhe was equally shocked. “You can learn them at a glance? Don’t tell me you’re like me, thinking learning the zither is easy?”

Sisi said, “Isn’t it just matching antonyms or synonyms? What’s so hard? Take you, Zhao Changhe. I heard you once killed a traitor named Wang Dashan. It’s a shame you two weren’t a perfect pair.”

Zhao Changhe was silent. “So you’re saying my cultural level is on par with a barbarian’s?”

Sisi said, “Isn’t it that simple?”

“Changhe is easy. Try something harder. Like... a sailor on a river?”

“Ham leg.”

Zhao Changhe: “?”

“What? Pretty clever, right?” Sisi puffed out her chest proudly. “Now it’s my turn to test you. Let’s see if you’re as smart as me. Hmm... how about ‘wisdom root’? What’s its match?”

Zhao Changhe was silent for a long moment, then slowly said, “Idiot?”

Sisi: “?”

The sleeping dragon and young phoenix stared at each other, both putting on stern faces.

Sisi finally realized it wasn’t that simple—it wasn’t just about finding an antonym. But she refused to admit defeat. Stiffening her neck, she said, “What use are couplets anyway? All those flowery, ornate phrases give me a headache. Are they as interesting as your *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils*? Come on, keep telling the story. It’s rare for you to have time to shoot the breeze. Don’t stop until you’ve finished, or some old hag will interrupt again, and I won’t get to hear the whole thing in peace.”

“You’ve already worn me out. I don’t want to tell it anymore. A story is just a story—it doesn’t have any hidden meanings. I’m not the divine brother, and you’re not Jiumozhi. If you keep listening with that twisted mindset, the story loses its meaning, and I won’t enjoy telling it.”

“Then at least finish the story about the maid who can disguise herself?”

“First, make sure it’s not you, or I won’t dare to continue.”

“Fine, fine, it’s not me.” Sisi sidled up to him and shook his shoulder. “Master, please, just tell it.”

“So Duan Yu saw a towering man in the tavern...” Zhao Changhe finally began. Truth be told, he really didn’t want to. A story about a maid skilled in disguise and a bold, rough man’s love affair—how could Sisi not think it was about him? It was practically teasing.

And it was shamelessly self-aggrandizing. He made Qiao Feng sound heroic and godlike. Who wouldn’t think he was bragging about himself? Beggar’s Sect? Northern Qiao Feng? Why not just say Northern Mang Mountain Stronghold? A traitor forcing out the chief, right?

But Sisi’s good point was that she never interrupted while listening. She just rested her cheek on her hand, her big eyes looking up at him with admiration, as if eagerly awaiting the next part. Heaven only knew what she was imagining in that head of hers.

It wasn’t until the story stumbled to the part where Qiao Feng mistakenly killed Azhu, leaving the promise of sheep on the grassland unfulfilled, that Sisi’s expression finally changed. The way she looked at Zhao Changhe made it seem like she wanted to strangle him.

Zhao Changhe stopped helplessly and sighed. “See? I told you, this isn’t some made-up allegory. I’m not that skilled, and I wouldn’t make up an ending like this just to mess with you, right? This is someone else’s story.”

“Is this why you don’t want to disguise yourself as someone else?”

“Well... partly.”

Sisi stared blankly for a long time, then murmured to herself, “Whether you made it up or not, I think you do have a bit of Qiao Feng in you... But unfortunately, aside from being able to disguise myself, I have nothing in common with Azhu. If you want a maid who’s that understanding, you’d be better off asking Tang Buqi for another one.”

“Hey...”

Sisi gave a mischievous smile. “I didn’t say you made it up. But are you going to tell me you don’t want a little maid like that? Too bad the one by your side now is an A’zi.”

“Are you ever going to stop? Not everyone is you!” Zhao Changhe clenched his fist, pretending to hit her.

Sisi assumed a defensive stance.

Just as they were about to start roughhousing, Tang Wanzhuang’s sigh came from outside. “I hate to disturb you, Master Zhao, but it seems our little break is coming to an end.”

Zhao Changhe was taken aback. “What’s going on?”

“The Tang family member guarding the exit of the Sword Emperor’s Tomb has sent an urgent report. There are tremors from below again, suggesting something might be happening.” Tang Wanzhuang’s tone was weary and resigned. “It’s only been a day. Your injuries haven’t fully healed, and you’ve just started to find some peace of mind. I really don’t want you to get involved in this so soon... but if I don’t tell you, wouldn’t you be upset?”

Sisi’s playful mood vanished instantly. Her expression grew distant once more.

Zhao Changhe also felt that the world seemed to be deliberately pushing him, almost suspecting that the blind man was up to something. How could it not let him have a moment's peace? He had just settled down to tell stories, learn the qin, tease the little maid, and enjoy some playful banter, feeling quite content—and then, before even a day had passed, trouble came knocking...

Looking at it this way, the previous years of military toil and frantic rushing—didn't they also carry a hint of fate's deliberate design?

Urging him to grow, without caring if his potential was overdrawn and exhausted, leaving behind a body full of hidden dangers. If not for Tang Wanzhuang pointing it out, he might never have realized this layer.

But on second thought, there was no need to dwell on it. In chaotic times, in chaotic times, where could one find so much leisure?

With that thought, he gave a carefree smile: "Why force activity or stillness? When things come, I'll do them; when done, I'll rest. Knowing my own problems, I'll naturally hold back later. Anyway, the Sword Emperor's tomb must be explored. Once this is finished, I'll learn the qin with you."

Saying this, he turned, picked up the Longque by the window, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and strode out the door: "Let's go. Playing the qin is like a bear embroidering flowers—times like this are my stage!"