Chapter 56: He Doesn't Seem Like A Person From This World

Chapter 56: He Seems Not of This World

“How old are you, really?”

Inside the room, Zhao Changhe had just ordered the innkeeper’s boy to heat some water. Seizing the moment while the lad was away, he quietly asked Cui Yuanyang.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone’s gaze toward him was a bit off…

Cui Yuanyang blushed and murmured, “Sixteen!”

“You don’t look sixteen at all.”

“What do you mean by that? I’m over five feet tall!”

“That’s barely five-two. Can your head even reach my armpit?”

“?” Cui Yuanyang refused to accept this and tried to duck under his arm to measure: “I’m clearly above your armpit…”

Zhao Changhe dodged quickly, pressing a hand on her head: “Forget it—I meant your face! It’s too young, you still have baby fat, all round and pink!”

“I’m sixteen by the lunar calendar!”

“Fine, so you’re really fifteen… What does the law of Great Xia say about that?”

“Law, shmaw. Even in prosperous times, plenty marry at fourteen, let alone now. Who cares?”

The door creaked open, and the innkeeper’s boy entered with water, his gaze growing stranger as he looked at them.

They both fell silent, suddenly realizing how odd their conversation must seem to an outsider.

“Honestly, what’s your age got to do with me?” Zhao Changhe sighed as the boy left with a peculiar expression. “Alright, hurry up and wash up, change your clothes, don’t catch a cold. I’ll be next door. Call me if anything comes up.”

“Wait, hold on…” The girl lowered her head. “I, I didn’t bring any clothes.”

“?” Zhao Changhe’s eyes widened. “Didn’t you have a bundle?”

“Such a small bundle—just some silver and medicine. No room for winter clothes.” Cui Yuanyang looked at him with a hint of confusion, as if to say, *Who’s the clueless greenhorn here, you or me?*

“Damn.” Zhao Changhe was at a loss. “Wait here. I’ll go see if there’s a clothing shop open to buy you a set.”

Watching him dash out into the rain again, Cui Yuanyang’s eyes sparkled.

In such a downpour, her brother would only scold her and send a servant to fetch it.

How strange. This man didn’t just seem unlike a bandit—at times, he seemed unlike anyone of this world. She wondered if anyone else had noticed…

Over there, Zhao Changhe was truly exasperated. He had zero interest in a barely five-foot-tall, at-most-A-cup, not-yet-fully-developed girl. Just think of Xia Chichi or Yue Hongling—tall, slender, curvaceous, firm and elastic… uh.

Anyway, cute as she was, she was also a real nuisance. But she was the young mistress of the Cui family—couldn’t hit her, couldn’t scold her, and couldn’t just send her off for fear she’d get lost. For Cui Yuanyong’s sake, he had to see her home.

Fine, for now, treat it like looking after a friend’s little sister back in the modern world.

There was a clothing shop on the street, but it was already closed. Zhao Changhe had no choice but to climb over the wall. He never imagined his first act as a gentleman of the beams would be stealing women’s clothes!

If word got out, his reputation would hit rock bottom—though it wasn’t great to begin with, at least it wasn’t *this* kind of bad.

Quickly, he grabbed a fluffy outfit that looked similar to what Cui Yuanyang had been wearing. Just as he was about to leave, he smacked his forehead, blushed slightly, and glanced at the underwear section. His face reddening further, he snatched a bellyband, tossed down a piece of silver, and fled like his life depended on it.

What did women’s underwear look like in this era? No idea. He’d never seen Yue Hongling’s. Xia Chichi had worn a chest binder when disguised as a man. Well, in novels, it was always bellybands—should be right.

A moment later, Cui Yuanyang, huddled by the brazier, stared wide-eyed at the items Zhao Changhe handed her with a straight face. Her cheeks flushed like peaches.

You buy clothes, fine—but with so many kinds of underwear, why a bellyband? And embroidered with mandarin ducks, no less… A man’s hands had touched it, and now she was supposed to wear it… Oh dear…

Living together with a man was truly inconvenient. How strange—how had Yue Hongling managed to stay with him for half a month? Could they really be *that* kind of relationship?

Zhao Changhe couldn’t care less what the silly girl was thinking. He was cold and exhausted himself, and soon slipped into his own room to soak in a bath and sleep.

He even skipped his daily routine of basic training, rain or shine… What rotten luck.

…

The night was wild with wind and rain.

A young girl alone with a strange man should have been uneasy and sleepless, but Cui Yuanyang slept like the dead, feeling more comfortable than at home—though that was just an illusion, born of sheer exhaustion.

If Zhao Changhe hadn’t forced her to soak in hot water, she might have fallen seriously ill.

Waking up lazily in the morning, she still felt a bit weak. Stretching her arms languidly, she glanced down at the bellyband and blushed again.

He’d said he would show her all sorts of poses, but he hadn’t done anything at all. Did wearing a bellyband count as a pose?

Just then, she heard sounds from outside the window—the whistle of a blade, the shuffle of footsteps.

Cui Yuanyang crept out of bed and peeked through the window.

Zhao Changhe was practicing his blade in the courtyard.

The heavy rain had stopped, but a light drizzle still fell. Annoyed by wet clothes, he had taken off his outer robe, letting the rain hit his body as he swung the blade with fierce vigor, his muscular frame clearly defined.

Cui Yuanyang’s heart raced. She quickly ducked her head and dared not look again.

He was so diligent. From the looks of it, he’d been at it for a while—not just starting. Even staying at an inn, he still trained like this?

Her elder brother, driven by their elders’ whips since childhood, wasn’t this hardworking… Was someone whipping him?

Cui Yuanyang’s own cultivation was weak, but her family background meant she had seen much and had a good eye. She could tell that Zhao Changhe was consciously trying to integrate the Eight Trigrams Step he had challenged yesterday into his own footwork. But still… other people’s footwork was a complete system, revealed in battle according to the situation. What could he really learn by stealing bits and pieces?

She felt a little sorry for him. She herself had everything she needed but never studied hard. Zhao Changhe’s conditions were truly poor—the Blood God Sect’s trashy martial arts were doled out stingily, and he treasured every scrap they gave him.

Why didn’t Yue Hongling teach him?

Just as she thought this, her expression gradually changed.

She could see that Zhao Changhe’s footwork, which had been awkward moments ago, was becoming smoother and smoother. He wasn’t just copying the Eight Trigrams Step; he was absorbing its strengths and trying to adapt his own footwork, improving it.

No wonder Yue Hongling hadn’t taught him footwork—his own style had already absorbed nutrients from hers, no longer purely the companion stepwork of the Blood Fiend Blade Technique.

If he kept this up, it would eventually become his unique footwork.

And this was a man who had only been learning martial arts for four months, trying to achieve such a result? What ambition.

Cui Yuanyang suddenly felt that her fifteen years had been wasted.

“Sir, sir.” The innkeeper’s boy peered in from the courtyard gate. “Your boiled pork and eight-treasure porridge are ready.”

“Oh, just leave them there.” Zhao Changhe stopped his practice, wiped sweat and rain, and walked toward Cui Yuanyang’s room. “Let me go see if that pig is awake.”

Cui Yuanyang scrambled back to the bedside: “Wait! I haven’t gotten dressed yet!”

Zhao Changhe: “…”

Innkeeper’s boy: “…”

“What’s with that look?” During breakfast, Cui Yuanyang asked Zhao Changhe curiously. “Why was that young lad’s nose bleeding? Did you hit him?”

“No, you did.” Zhao Changhe drank his porridge expressionlessly. “Never mind him—even I almost bled from you. Good thing my imagination is weak.”

“I haven’t learned to strike from a distance.”

“No need to learn. It’s a natural talent.” Zhao Changhe glanced up at her, twitched his mouth, and went back to his porridge.

That fluffy hooded coat he’d grabbed last night—he hadn’t noticed the rabbit ears on the hood.

Cuteness to a certain degree was against the rules.

Cui Yuanyang herself didn’t find it strange; she was probably used to wearing such things at home. She lowered her head and sipped her porridge, murmuring, “You’re struggling on your own, with your blade technique and footwork… Why don’t you ask me for a manual? The Cui family martial arts are very powerful… I don’t think you’ve even considered it.”

Zhao Changhe smiled freely. “You can’t give me the secret arts, only some common stuff. Unless I’m willing to cut myself off from the righteous path and just kidnap you right now.”

Cui Yuanyang acted as if she hadn't heard the latter half, lowering her voice: "Mm... those definitely can't be leaked, unless you... uh, anyway, even the ordinary stuff I'm allowed to give away is far better than this Eight Trigrams Step..."

"No."

"Why?"

"Little girl, you may be naive, but your family is not. I have no intention of owing the Cui family a favor, much less binding myself too deeply to them and being restricted everywhere from now on."

"But... but your current experience and insight truly aren't enough to support you in forging your own martial arts. It's too early."

"I never planned to forge my own thing at this point; I'm still in the initial stage of accumulating experience. To be honest, the Cui family martial arts might be very good, but this stuff is just about adequate—it still depends on who uses it. Your brother's learning is definitely superior to Yue Hongling's, yet he still loses to her by half a move—that's proof."

Cui Yuanyang was silent. That feeling that he didn't belong to this world surfaced again. The reasoning might seem correct, but who in this world would take it so seriously? Doesn't a good technique bring more intuitive improvement than your own desperate groping? Even knowing it would cause some trouble, it's hard to be so calm—even Yue Hongling would be the same.

Zhao Changhe said, "I rather think that if the Cui family keeps wallowing in the glory of how formidable their martial arts are, sooner or later they'll decline like this Great Xia."

Seeing Cui Yuanyang's slightly unconvinced little face, Zhao Changhe said no more and stood up: "Let's go. Walking the jianghu isn't always about dealing with fiends and phantoms; sometimes you have to right wrongs on the road. I only hope that when we go to Qinghe, the injustice we see won't be from your family."