Chapter 176: Live For Me Today

Chapter 176: Live for Me Today

The sound of plucked strings, "beng beng beng," filled the room.

Zhao Changhe was actually sitting there in all seriousness, playing the zither.

Baoqin stood trembling beside him, her posture ready to lunge and rescue her precious instrument at any moment, should this brute show the slightest hint of violence, she was sure she could shove him three feet away.

Yet strangely enough, though he had snapped a string with his clumsy hands just a few days ago and hadn't practiced since, his posture as he sat there now was inexplicably gentler, no longer so stiff, carrying a quiet calm.

So when he touched the strings, though his movements still seemed wooden, he could actually play.

It was simply because, back then, what had been taut wasn't the strings, but himself. Otherwise, how could a martial artist capable of using a broadsword to shave his beard so easily break a string?

These past days, he had slowed down, body and mind—that was all.

But he had never learned a single tune. Now he was plucking each string one by one according to the notes Tang Wanzhuang had demonstrated that day—gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu—then plucking them back in reverse, utterly tedious.

Yet it seemed every beginner started this way. Baoqin thought back to when she was five years old. Forget it.

Tedious as it was, Tang Wanzhuang was leaning back against the headboard, her eyes slightly curved as if she were listening to something beautiful. After a while, she even closed her eyes, feigning sleep, resting comfortably.

Baoqin's eyes turned into spirals. She couldn't see how this repetitive, dull tone could be pleasant to hear—it didn't even have rhythm. Not getting irritated was already a feat. How could her lady actually relax to it?

Zhao Changhe plucked away randomly for a few minutes, growing bored himself. Looking for something to do, he started figuring out how to play a simple tune.

When it came to simple tunes, the first thing that popped into Zhao Changhe's head was "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." He tried plucking with one finger, and surprisingly, a melody emerged. Zhao Changhe couldn't help but grin. This was fun!

But the next line stumped him. He couldn't find the "fa" note... Helplessly, he turned to Baoqin: "Hey..."

"My name isn't Hey. It's Baoqin. No, you can't call me that. You have to call me 'miss.'"

"Oh, Miss Bao..."

Baoqin glared at him: "My surname isn't Bao!"

"Shh!" Zhao Changhe whispered, "Your lady is resting. Don't be loud, be good."

Baoqin lowered her voice: "What do you want?"

"I'll hum a bit. Can you show me where the notes are? Teach me?" Zhao Changhe hummed the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star": "Where are these first two notes?"

"That sounds awful. Why do you hum like a pig grunting?"

Zhao Changhe cracked his knuckles. Baoqin raised her palm in front of her, stepping back half a pace.

"That's the bianzhi and qingjiao notes. You need to press the string with your left hand to change the pitch. You can't play them with one finger." Tang Wanzhuang's languid voice came from the headboard. "Baoqin, show him."

Baoqin reluctantly reached out her small hand, pressing with her left, plucking with her right, and the note was correct.

Tang Wanzhuang closed her eyes and said softly, "This isn't some technique of dual-mindedness. It requires coordination between both hands. Normally, it's quite difficult for beginners, but it should be easy for a martial artist, especially one like you, who can chop people with your right hand while flicking pebbles with your left..."

Zhao Changhe: "..."

You know me well, don't you? Did your investigation reports once pile up on your desk?

Tang Wanzhuang smiled faintly: "Alright, try it. I hope to hear this tune finished today."

Baoqin said, "This is probably just a nursery rhyme, miss. What's there to look forward to?"

"So what if it's a nursery rhyme? I want to hear a nursery rhyme." Tang Wanzhuang's voice grew softer: "Even my mother never played a nursery rhyme for me..."

Baoqin fell silent.

Zhao Changhe said nothing, teaching himself the fingering Baoqin had just used, searching for the notes. He fumbled around for a good while before finally finding the right pitches, then continued playing.

He stumbled through "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." Looking up, he saw Tang Wanzhuang leaning against the headboard, her tightly furrowed brow gradually relaxing, her whole expression much more at ease. She seemed to have actually fallen asleep...

Zhao Changhe dared not play anymore. He "shh"ed at Baoqin again and quietly slipped out of the room.

Baoqin hesitated for a moment, then quietly followed him, grabbing him at the door: "Hey, is there something special about that tune? I've played so many calming, sleep-inducing pieces for my lady, but none had this effect... And those simple phrases you played were so terrible..."

"Can you talk properly?"

"...Can't I speak the truth?"

"Why are you asking? Want to help your lady?"

"Yes..."

"Then I'm afraid there's no way." Zhao Changhe sighed. "It's because she saw me following the path she had in her heart, and that brought her some peace... As for her other worries, she's helpless against them, and they're too vague, with no end in sight. I've become something concrete she can look forward to, a straw to grasp. That's all."

"Then... then why does she like nursery rhymes? It's not like no one ever played them for her. I played them when I practiced."

"It's not that she's never heard nursery rhymes. It's that no one ever played them *for her*. In people's minds, Tang Wanzhuang is a pillar of the world. They pity her frailty and exhaustion, tell her to take care of herself, but does anyone ever think, 'Silly child, this isn't your burden. Let me handle it'? No. Everyone hopes she'll recover her health so she can better support heaven and earth."

Baoqin was dumbfounded, at a loss for words.

"Unfortunately, I only said the first half. Those two words, 'Let me'—I can't say them either." Zhao Changhe patted Baoqin on the shoulder and turned to leave. "Take good care of your lady. Don't let her catch a cold, alright."

...

Back in his guest courtyard, Zhao Changhe took a leisurely bath, then took out the gold leaf and the sword seal to begin his studies.

After fulfilling his promise to Sisi, it was time to start his own research.

What he had given Sisi was a sword technique usable at the level of opening the first secret treasury. Zhao Changhe could recite the essentials and mimic the movements, but it was just a hollow shell. He couldn't use its true power. In other words, his understanding of the sword technique stopped at the Xuan Pass level; anything beyond was beyond his scope.

Actually, even Xuan Pass level sword techniques, though comprehensible, were beyond his ability to fully execute. His own Blood Fiend Blade Technique had a move usable at the eighth level of Xuan Pass that he still couldn't use. Sword techniques were even more pointless.

So his goal was clear: find a few techniques that he could currently unleash with maximum power and try to integrate them into his blade style.

Having a sword in the left hand and a blade in the right might look cool, but it was too inconvenient. Better to focus on the blade...

At this point, the Celestial Book had also evolved, seemingly unlocking more.

Not only could it form a phantom-like space, allowing him to immerse himself and watch the Sword Emperor's teachings, but he could also control this phantom space like a lucid dream, displaying whatever content he wanted. For example, now he only wanted the Sword Emperor to show all the ultimate techniques usable between the fifth and seventh levels of Xuan Pass, and the Sword Emperor only displayed those techniques for him to choose from.

—Speaking of which, if the Celestial Book became more and more sentient, how would it plan to kill him when it fully unlocked?

Forget it. Deal with that later. There were too many sword techniques to think about anything else.

Just the sword techniques shown by the Sword Emperor for the fifth to seventh levels of Xuan Pass that could be called ultimate moves were far too many.

What he had given Sisi was just one type of sword intent, a branch of a sword style. The sword seal, as a "general outline of sword techniques," could manifest far more than just that one type. Hundreds of sword intents, countless methods—these were things requiring a lifetime to comprehend. Just at this level, there were at least a hundred derived sword techniques, and those that could be called ultimate moves could easily number in the hundreds after a quick screening.

Most were not suitable for conversion into blade techniques, and some didn't fit Zhao Changhe's style. After filtering, about a dozen moves remained.

After further eliminating those with overlapping functions, Zhao Changhe finally settled on three moves.

All his focus from now on would be on how to integrate these three sword techniques into his blade style. When that was accomplished, would it be time to leave?

As soon as the thought arose, Zhao Changhe slapped his forehead.

Why was he starting this train of thought again? Slow down, calm down... That was exactly what he needed to avoid—finishing one thing and immediately rushing to the next.

There was nothing that required him to rush. Settling down was the real priority.

"Knock, knock, knock." A knock at the door.

Zhao Changhe withdrew his mind from the Celestial Book, realizing that just selecting the moves had taken an entire night. It was already broad daylight.

He opened the door to find Tang Wanzhuang standing there gracefully, smiling faintly: "Now that there's no need to write sheet music, is Wanzhuang still welcome to visit?"

"You're alright?"

"Resting was enough. I haven't slept as peacefully as last night in a long time. Thank you for the nursery rhyme, young master."

"So you need to slow down too. Not planning to deal with the Maitreya Sect today?"

"Let's set today aside. Shouldn't I live for myself for once?"

"Then I'm afraid I'll spoil the mood..." Zhao Changhe said. "How about living for me today?"

Tang Wanzhuang: "?"

Zhao Changhe, not even blushing, said very naturally: "I've come up with three sword techniques and am considering how to integrate them into my blade arts. You're a grandmaster—could you help me take a look?"

Tang Wanzhuang smiled: "That would be my pleasure."