Song of Everlasting Regret - Chapter 16

He was a member of the Feihua Alliance, he knew her mother, his cultivation was superb, and his surname was Shen.

How many people like that could there be?

Perhaps it was the dye fluid seeping into her mouth, for Lou Jing felt a profound bitterness within. “You said that when we met again, you would tell me who you were.”

The stranger nodded. “Yes.”

Lou Jing stared at him without blinking and asked, “Are you… Shen Zhongyin?”

The stranger smiled. “I am.”

Lou Jing pursed her lips.

The three great assassins of the Swallow Tower: the Living King of Hell, the Nine-Tailed Fox, and the Bifang Bird. One Tower Master, two managers.

The Bifang Bird, Shen Zhongyin.

His Dan Yan Palm technique was unrivaled in the world; the targets he set his sights on never escaped.

Their first two encounters had been at night; it was only now that Lou Jing truly saw his face.

Shen Zhongyin wore a lake-colored silk robe, his hair bound by a wooden hairpin. He had a noble brow and a dashing air, though two tear troughs on his cheeks gave him an aura of weathered experience.

If one were to say that Shen Zhongyin was the source of all the insults she had endured, she should hate him exceptionally. Yet she also understood that for the insults she suffered, the blame lay with those who looked down on her birth and cursed her.

She was afraid to face him. Rumors of her mother having an affair with Shen Zhongyin—hearing such lies often enough could easily affect her judgment. She had once doubted her own parentage, but because Lou Xuanzhi’s stance was so firm, that doubt had been suppressed into a corner of her heart. Still, the thought would surface from time to time.

Lou Jing could not help but steal a few more glances at him.

Shen Zhongyin lifted a wine jar, the containers clinking with a crisp sound. “Have two cups. When old friends meet, we must drink to our heart’s content.”

Lou Jing did not want the rumors to be the truth, so she feared Shen Zhongyin and did not know how to face him.

She had previously had a slight premonition of who this person was, but that was just a small feeling she could bear. Now that it had become a reality, she was somewhat panicked and flustered. “Sword practitioners have dietary restrictions; I do not drink.”

Shen Zhongyin scoffed. “Nonsense. How can children of the martial world not know how to drink? Your Qian Yuan Sect teaches nothing but dog-fart principles!”

Shen Zhongyin acted according to his own will. Without waiting for Lou Jing’s consent, he walked out on his own. Previously, he thought those following him were from the Caoliu Mountain Manor, which was why he led Lou Jing there. Now that he knew it was a misunderstanding, he took the direct path back to the restaurant.

A battle raged within Lou Jing’s mind, but eventually, the thought of finding the true killer of Cao Ruxu won out. When she returned to the restaurant, she found Shen Zhongyin already drinking alone in the pavilion, a full bowl of wine set opposite him—clearly left for her.

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down. She desperately wanted to clarify the matter between him and her mother, yet feared hearing their story.

A myriad of thoughts troubled her.

Lou Jing picked up the wine bowl and drained it in one gulp. Her heart sank along with the fire entering her throat, and she calmed down.

She might as well take this opportunity to draw some words out of Shen Zhongyin and see how much he knew about the cause of Cao Ruxu’s death.

Lou Jing thought this verbal probing would take some effort, but unexpectedly Shen Zhongyin spoke freely, not even needing to be lead on by drunkenness.

It turned out that Shen Zhongyin had a bit of a friendship with Long Chou, so after receiving the news, he headed to Xuzhou City to rendezvous with Long Chou’s widow.

Shen Zhongyin said he went alone, which Lou Jing found hard to believe.

That was the time of the Zhongwu Hall’s grand wedding, and martial heroes were gathered in force. Even if Shen Zhongyin’s cultivation was high, it would be difficult to escort a pregnant woman out of Xuzhou City single-handedly. Shen Zhongyin should have known this himself; since he knew, he would not have come unprepared.

Lou Jing felt his preparation must have involved other Feihua Alliance members assisting in the city.

And if there were other Alliance members present then, could it be that the person who arrived at the derelict garden that night was the one helping Shen Zhongyin? Perhaps that person happened upon the awakened Cao Ruxu and ended his life.

When Lou Jing asked for details, Shen Zhongyin looked at her and smiled without speaking.

It seemed this man was not one to tell everything he knew.

“I went to check. The fatal wound on that Cao Ruxu boy was in his chest.” Shen Zhongyin gestured across his own heart. “Killed by a single sword strike. Aside from the sword wound on the shoulder and the bruising on the chest from being struck…”

Lou Jing said, “Those two were my doing. I also saw the sword wound on Cao Ruxu; small in the front and large in the back. He was stabbed from behind.”

Shen Zhongyin raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lou Jing, his fingers tapping the tabletop. “Generally, when people exchange blows, wounds are on the front. To be attacked from the rear usually has two possibilities: one is being besieged, where the person is outnumbered and a flaw is found; the other is being plotted against. Though that is always a failure of vigilance, there are two scenarios: one is being ambushed by an enemy with hidden weapons, and the other is that the person allowed him to lower his guard, voluntarily exposing his back.”

Though Lou Jing had been thinking, her thoughts were not as organized as Shen Zhongyin’s. As he laid out the possibilities of the attack on Cao Ruxu, a flash of light suddenly went through her mind.

Only by clarifying the logic could she continue to trace the truth through the points of suspicion.

Seeing her frowning in deep thought, Shen Zhongyin suddenly sneered. “The man is dead; he is not worth mentioning. There is no need to spend so much effort on his death.”

Lou Jing returned a cold laugh. “Not worth mentioning? Yet you spent the effort to go to Caoliu Mountain Manor to add a palm strike to Cao Ruxu’s corpse.”

Perhaps seeing that Shen Zhongyin had held back and not killed her gave her courage; or perhaps it was that being with this person was comfortable enough that she forgot he was a bloodthirsty demon, losing her fear that her words might provoke him and bring about a fatal disaster.

Shen Zhongyin laughed heartily. “I came to add a palm strike for the pleasure in my heart. You spent all that effort secretly digging a grave and opening a coffin—what was that for?”

Lou Jing felt he had cut straight to the core of her trouble. Her eyelids lowered, and her expression turned somber.

It was because she was slandered and bore the blame for another. Because this one life had turned her from right to wrong, bringing endless reproach and a sense of resentment.

“Right and wrong are judged by others; they are not worth a second glance, and certainly not worth taking to heart.”

Shen Zhongyin’s words reflected an attitude Lou Jing had never encountered. Beneath her strong exterior was a deep-seated insecurity, which was why she cared about others’ opinions and was even influenced by them. She had never lived freely, so hearing Shen Zhongyin speak this way made her heart deeply envy his spontaneous state of mind.

Lou Jing said in a low voice, “Even if one doesn’t care, ‘three people make a tiger.’ When everyone thinks you killed someone, whether you actually did it or not no longer matters. A crime that isn’t yours becomes yours, harming yourself and burdening the sect.”

“The sect?” Shen Zhongyin’s face suddenly darkened. “That bunch of old fogies at the Qian Yuan Sect are weak, incompetent, and ignorant. If they are burdened, let them be burdened.”

Hearing him insult her elders, Lou Jing’s face also darkened. Before she could snap back, Shen Zhongyin suddenly changed his expression and said to her, “What is there to learn from that Qian Yuan sword technique? Jing’er, you should learn palm techniques from me.”

Lou Jing’s face was extremely poor as she coldly turned her head away. “Without the permission of my elders, I do not dare acknowledge a master.”

Shen Zhongyin flicked his sleeve. “You take me for one of those vulgar types? If you won’t acknowledge a master, then don’t. I will simply pass my skills to you.”

Again, he did not need Lou Jing’s nod. He jumped into the courtyard and began practicing his palms.

Shen Zhongyin only demonstrated a small portion, but it fully displayed the exquisiteness of the technique—a momentum like a swimming dragon, matchless and invincible. Even though Lou Jing was previously displeased by his belittling of her elders, she unconsciously watched with fascination, her heart full of praise.

Yet Lou Jing was still unwilling to learn. The Qian Yuan sword technique was enough for her to study for a lifetime. Furthermore, who was this Shen Zhongyin? He was an assassin from the Feihua Alliance’s Swallow Tower; how could she learn martial arts from him?

However, Shen Zhongyin did not care for her likes or dislikes. Once he made up his mind, he intended to finish it; he even passed the internal energy heart-method to her.

Though Lou Jing did not intentionally memorize it, Shen Zhongyin kept speaking, and impressions naturally formed in her mind. Lou Jing asked, “Are you not afraid that if I learn your palm techniques and internal energy, I will find a way to restrain you, reveal your weaknesses, and lead the righteous martial arts path to surround and suppress you?”

Shen Zhongyin smiled. “You won’t.”

Lou Jing felt he saw right through her, and she suddenly felt a loss of spirit.

She indeed would not—not that she wouldn’t join a suppression effort to hunt him, but she would not reveal his internal heart-method. He was passing his skills to her out of kindness; if she turned around and used those skills to harm him, she could not do such a thing even if Shen Zhongyin was a villain.

Shen Zhongyin stayed at the restaurant for three days, and Lou Jing monitored him for three days. During their conversations, if they did not involve the sect, they actually chatted quite congenially.

When with Shen Zhongyin, Lou Jing was always relaxed. Perhaps it was because this man was unrestrained and indulgent, lacking so many secular rules.

In fact, Lou Jing felt a bit of joy being around him.

Even though she showed no intention of practicing, Shen Zhongyin would teach her the palm techniques, demonstrating them daily and even critiquing her talent and cultivation, generally praising her as a rare find.

Many people had praised her, but she only listened; phrases like “rare talent, youthful genius” could be said by anyone and fitted any young person with a bit of achievement. Even if the speaker was sincere, it was hard to feel a sense of validation.

Shen Zhongyin was different. He analyzed the pros and cons practically, without belittling or empty flattery. Every word hit her heart. When he finished with a slight compliment like “You are a piece of fine jade, polishing will make you a great talent,” it became an immense motivation, lifting her spirit.

She was very happy.

By the fourth day, people from the Caoliu Mountain Manor entered Xinyang City, appearing to be tracking Shen Zhongyin. Shen Zhongyin then left the restaurant, and Lou Jing, wanting to monitor his movements, followed him.

Because she and Shen Zhongyin had met face-to-face, she no longer followed in the shadows as she had at the start.

They had traveled about forty miles out of Xinyang City, and the sky was turning dark. Fortunately, an inn appeared not far ahead, saving the two from sleeping in the wilderness.

As they were about to reach the inn, the chaotic sound of horse hooves came from the distance, and a group of people arrived on horseback.

The man leading them was dressed in a short-tunic, his muscles bulging and his beard and hair bristling. His voice was like a bull’s roar. “Do not rest tonight, or I fear we will be late.”

Another person sighed. “The Sect Leader of the Nanye Sect is ‘Opening the Furnace’; we can only hope to get there first.”

Lou Jing could not help but listen closely. She was familiar with the Nanye Sect.

Nanye was a sword-casting sect at the border of the Central Plains, famous throughout the world for its weapon-forging skills. Everyone knew Nanye produced masterpieces; her shattered Xue Po had been forged by a Nanye disciple.

Most Nanye weapons came from the hands of the sect’s disciples. When the Nanye Sect Leader forged a sword, it was called “Opening the Furnace.” Successive leaders did this very rarely—some never forged a single sword in their lifetime—but if the furnace opened and a sword was completed, it was bound to be a divine weapon.

The Qian Yuan Sect Leader’s sword, Jie E, was a divine weapon forged by the Nanye founding master; it could cut through iron like mud and was full of spiritual energy.

It was no wonder these people were in a hurry. The Nanye Sect Leader opening the furnace was a major event; many martial artists would surely head there to request a sword. The leader only forged one weapon; being a minute late meant one less chance.

The horse team swept past them, kicking up a cloud of dust. The man leading them spoke with a flippant tone: “The last time the Nanye Sect Leader opened the furnace was over twenty years ago. He forged a Spring Water, but it was ruined by a worthless woman…”

The voice faded into the distance.

Lou Jing had been walking toward the inn when she suddenly felt a gust of wind beside her. Shen Zhongyin had rushed out, fast as a bolt of lightning. Gathering his qi and using light-body techniques, he actually caught up with the galloping horses.

From the distance came the neighing of a horse, a stallion reared up and fell, followed immediately by the screams of a man.

When Lou Jing rushed over, she saw the horse on the ground twitching, its eyes bulging out. Beneath the horse was a corpse, the head shattered and brain matter splattered, white and red mixed in a puddle.

From the build and clothing, it could be identified as the lead man.

Lou Jing said, “Why did you kill him?”

He was just a passerby; how had he provoked him?

Shen Zhongyin looked up, his fingers wiping the blood splatters from his cheek, his gaze icy. “I wanted to kill, so I killed.”

Lou Jing took a sharp breath, suddenly remembering that the man before her was, at his core, a demon who killed without blinking.