Ad Code

Ad code

Rain Bell — Chapter 2: Veil of Su. Part 15


“If it hadn’t been for that man surnamed Su, we wouldn’t have known that the item we’re after is something even Xing Yun Manor and the Tang Sect dared to covet.”

Turning to the man, she said with a smile, “It seems that Han Shui Palace has been absent from the Jianghu for so long that others think they can trample over us.”

Her gaze flicked to the boy, and her lips curved into an amused smile. “What do you think? You didn’t tell them the secret you know, did you?”

The boy instinctively shook his head.

“I know you can’t speak, but if you wanted to tell them, you’d find a way, wouldn’t you?”

The boy shook his head again.

“Really, nothing?”

The boy’s face contorted with despair as he shook his head frantically, desperate to convince her of his sincerity.

“That’s more like it. This secret is meant to be known only by those from Han Shui Palace.”

The woman spoke lazily, her tone betraying no hint of whether she actually believed him.

She lowered her head, chuckling softly. Her delicate, jade-like fingers brushed gently over the boy’s already swollen, crimson cheeks.

“Children who misbehave and run around will never be liked by Grandmother. When we set out, Grandmother gave specific instructions: before questioning you, we mustn’t forget to give you your medicine. Grandmother said that only children who take their medicine will truly behave.”

Although the cold wind carried the woman’s words intermittently, and her voice remained as soft and gentle as water, Huo Xiao Di, crouching behind the earthen mound on the slope, couldn’t help but shiver.

As she spoke, the woman retrieved a soft pouch and a jade bowl from the bundle on her back.

The boy stood motionless, watching everything with wide eyes filled with fear and pleading. His legs seemed no longer his own—he didn’t even dare to run.

Huo Xiao Di watched as the woman poured a green liquid from the pouch into the jade bowl. The liquid writhed and squirmed, as though it were alive.

The boy’s face turned deathly pale, like that of a corpse.

Tears suddenly welled up and streamed down his face.

The woman held out the jade bowl to him, her voice still soft and soothing. “If you don’t drink this obediently, Grandmother will be very angry. You don’t want to make Grandmother angry, do you?”

The jade bowl trembled slightly—not from the woman’s hand, but because the boy’s hands were shaking uncontrollably.

The writhing green liquid in the bowl mirrored the quivering of the boy’s trembling lips.

The woman’s voice turned icy. “Why won’t you drink? Today, the dose is only a little larger. When the poison takes effect, it’ll hurt more than usual, but that’s all. You wouldn’t want to make Grandmother angry and have her order even crueler methods, where you’d beg for life but wish for death, would you?”

The boy’s tears streamed faster, and his hands shook even more violently. Yet he dared not spill the liquid from the jade bowl.

The man in pale blue stood silently by, watching coldly. His gaze rested on the boy, yet it felt as though he didn’t truly see him at all—as though, to him, this frail child didn’t even exist.

Huo Xiao Di couldn’t take it anymore.

He had overheard vague stories about Han Shui Palace being whispered at Ling Long Manor.

He remembered the solemn expressions of those speaking and the fear in their eyes that they couldn’t completely hide when the name Han Shui Palace was mentioned.

But he didn’t understand.

–– For a name as mighty as Han Shui Palace, how could they resort to forcing a child to drink poison to extract the whereabouts of some object?

He knew full well that now was not the time to provoke new enemies. He knew that the Xiang Yang Prince’s soldiers were nearby, but he couldn’t just stand by and watch these two in pale blue bully a defenseless child.

Or perhaps he no longer cared.

–– So what if he stirred up more trouble?

–– Could things get any worse than they already were?

“Too many lice, and you stop itching; too much debt, and you stop fearing.”

Huo Xiao Di’s hand had already slipped into his robe, fingers tightly gripping the blood-red hilt of Yin Yang An.

The sword’s dark blade, reacting to his body heat, began to warm, almost as though it were a devil craving the taste of fresh, hot blood.

He took a deep breath.

And he drew his sword!

Or tried to.

To his surprise, the blade never left its sheath.

A strong hand had lightly pressed down on his arm, stopping him.

He froze in shock.

The unmatched lightfoot technique of Ling Long Manor meant that even the faintest rustle of a falling leaf could be detected miles away.

He had been focusing intently, using “A Night in the Pavilion, Listening to Flowers Speak” to attune his senses to every word spoken by the pale blue-robed woman in the hollow. Within a hundred zhang, no movement, no breath, no whisper of wind could escape his notice.

How, then, had someone managed to approach him without him realizing?

He whipped around, and in the glow of the setting sun, he saw Zhan Ri Fei’s pale, refined face, adorned with that ever-calm and faintly amused smile.             

Post a Comment

0 Comments

Ad Code