Song of Everlasting Regret - Chapter 16

A member of the Feihua Alliance who knew her mother, possessed extraordinary cultivation, and bore the surname Shen.

How many people could fit that description?

Perhaps some of the dye had flowed into her mouth, for Lou Jing found the taste there unbearably bitter.

“You said that when we met again, you would tell me who you were.”

The strange man nodded.

“I did.”

Lou Jing stared at him without blinking.

“Are you… Shen Zhongyin?”

A smile appeared on his face.

“Yes.”

Lou Jing pressed her lips tightly together.

Swallow Tower had three great assassins: the Living Yama, the Nine-Tailed Fox, and the Bifang Bird.

One was the tower master, while the other two were its stewards.

The Bifang Bird—Shen Zhongyin.

His Blazing Core Palm was unrivaled beneath the heavens, and he had never failed to kill a target once he set his sights upon them.

The previous two times Lou Jing met him had both been at night. Only now did she finally see his face clearly.

Shen Zhongyin wore a lake-blue silk robe, with his hair secured by a wooden pin. His brows were bold and dignified, and he possessed a remarkably dashing appearance.

Two deep lines ran down his cheeks like tear tracks, lending him a weathered air.

If Shen Zhongyin was the source of all the scorn and humiliation she had endured, then she ought to hate him deeply.

Yet she also understood that the true blame lay with those who despised her origins and hurled insults at her.

She was afraid to face him.

Her mother had carried on an affair with Shen Zhongyin—after hearing that rumor often enough, even Lou Jing’s judgment had inevitably been affected.

She had questioned her own birth before.

Only because Lou Xuanzhi’s attitude had remained unwavering had she forced those suspicions into the deepest corner of her heart.

Even so, they would occasionally resurface.

Lou Jing could not help glancing at Shen Zhongyin twice more.

He lifted the two wine jars. They knocked together with a clear clinking sound.

“Let us drink. Old acquaintances have met again—we ought to empty a great cup in celebration.”

Lou Jing did not want the rumors to be true.

That was why she feared Shen Zhongyin and did not know how to face him.

She had vaguely suspected his identity before, but it had been only the faintest intuition, something she could endure.

Now that the suspicion had become reality, she felt thoroughly unsettled.

“Sword cultivators must observe dietary restrictions. I do not drink.”

Shen Zhongyin scoffed.

“Bullshit. How can someone of the martial world not know how to drink? Your Qianyuan Sect teaches nothing but a pile of worthless nonsense!”

Shen Zhongyin always acted as he pleased.

Without waiting for Lou Jing’s agreement, he turned and walked away.

Earlier, he had assumed the person following him belonged to Caoliu Manor and had therefore led Lou Jing to this secluded place.

Now that he knew it had been a misunderstanding, he did not bother taking a roundabout route back and headed directly toward the restaurant.

Lou Jing struggled internally.

In the end, her desire to uncover Cao Ruxu’s true murderer prevailed.

When she returned to the restaurant, she found Shen Zhongyin already drinking alone inside a pavilion.

A full bowl of wine had been placed opposite him, clearly reserved for her.

After hesitating, she sat down.

She desperately wanted to learn the truth about him and her mother, yet she was equally afraid of what she might hear.

Countless thoughts tormented her.

Lou Jing picked up the bowl and drained it in one swallow.

As the burning liquor traveled down her throat, her heart seemed to sink with it.

She finally calmed down.

She might as well use this opportunity to draw information from Shen Zhongyin and discover how much he knew about Cao Ruxu’s death.

Lou Jing had expected that questioning him would require considerable effort.

Unexpectedly, Shen Zhongyin spoke freely. She did not even need to wait until he was drunk and guide the conversation.

It turned out that Shen Zhongyin had possessed some friendship with Long Chou.

After receiving news of his death, he traveled to Xuzhou City to assist Long Chou’s widow.

Shen Zhongyin claimed that he had gone alone.

Lou Jing did not entirely believe him.

Zhongwu Hall had been celebrating a wedding at the time, and heroes from throughout the martial world had gathered in the city.

Even with Shen Zhongyin’s extraordinary cultivation, it would have been difficult for him to escort a pregnant woman out of Xuzhou alone.

Shen Zhongyin himself should have understood that.

Since he understood it, he would not have gone without preparation.

Lou Jing believed that his preparations must have involved other members of the Feihua Alliance assisting him inside the city.

If other alliance members had been present, perhaps the person who later entered the abandoned garden had been one of Shen Zhongyin’s helpers.

That person might have encountered Cao Ruxu after he regained consciousness and killed him.

When Lou Jing questioned him more carefully, Shen Zhongyin merely looked at her with a smile and said nothing.

So he was not truly willing to tell her everything.

“I examined Cao Ruxu,” Shen Zhongyin said. He traced a line across the center of his own chest. “The fatal wound was here. One sword strike killed him. Apart from the sword wound on his shoulder and the bruising from a palm strike on his chest…”

“I caused those two injuries,” Lou Jing said. “I also examined the fatal sword wound. It was small in front and large in the back. Someone stabbed him from behind.”

Shen Zhongyin raised an eyebrow and glanced at her, his fingers lightly tapping the table.

“During an ordinary fight, wounds are usually inflicted from the front. An attack from behind generally has one of two explanations.

“The first is that the victim was surrounded. The enemy possessed superior numbers and found an opening.

“The second is that he was ambushed.

“An ambush itself can happen in two ways. Either the victim falls into an enemy’s trap and is struck by a concealed weapon, or the attacker is someone who can make him lower his guard and willingly expose his back.”

Lou Jing had considered the matter, but not with Shen Zhongyin’s clarity and order.

Once he arranged the possibilities surrounding Cao Ruxu’s attack, a flash of insight immediately passed through her mind.

Only by clearly untangling the sequence of events could she continue investigating the suspicious points.

Seeing her frowning in deep thought, Shen Zhongyin suddenly sneered.

“The man is dead. His death is hardly worth mentioning. There is no need to trouble yourself so greatly over it.”

Lou Jing returned his sneer.

“If it was not worth mentioning, why did you go to Caoliu Manor and make such an effort to add a palm strike to Cao Ruxu’s corpse?”

Perhaps Shen Zhongyin’s restraint in not killing her had emboldened Lou Jing.

Or perhaps she found his company strangely comfortable.

She had almost forgotten that he was a bloodthirsty demon and did not fear that her words might anger him enough to take her life.

Shen Zhongyin laughed loudly.

“I went to add that palm strike because it would make me happy. But why did you exhaust yourself sneaking into the cemetery, digging open his grave, and lifting his coffin?”

His words struck directly at the knot in Lou Jing’s heart.

She lowered her eyes, her expression darkening.

She had been falsely accused and forced to bear someone else’s crime.

Because of that single death, everyone had transformed her from the person in the right into the person in the wrong.

She had endured endless criticism and could not accept it.

“…much less take them seriously.”

Shen Zhongyin’s attitude was something Lou Jing had never encountered before.

Beneath her outward competitiveness lay a profound inferiority. That was why she cared so much about how others regarded her and was so easily affected by their opinions.

She had never lived freely.

Hearing Shen Zhongyin speak this way, she deeply envied his unrestrained state of mind.

Lou Jing said gravely, “Even if you do not care, three people can create a tiger with their rumors. Once everyone believes you killed someone, whether you truly did it no longer matters.

“A crime that was not yours becomes yours. It brings disaster upon you and implicates your sect.”

“Your sect?”

Shen Zhongyin’s face abruptly darkened.

“Those old fools of the Qianyuan Sect are cowardly, incompetent, and unbearably ignorant. If they are implicated, then let them be implicated.”

Hearing him insult her elders, Lou Jing’s expression also turned cold.

Before she could retort, Shen Zhongyin suddenly changed his manner and said, “What is there to learn from the Qianyuan Sword Art? Jing’er, you should study palm techniques under me.”

Lou Jing’s face remained extremely unpleasant as she turned her head away.

“I would not dare acknowledge another master without my elders’ permission.”

Shen Zhongyin swept his sleeve.

“Do you take me for one of those vulgar fools who care about formalities? If you will not acknowledge me as your master, then do not. I will simply teach you my abilities.”

Once again, he did not require Lou Jing’s consent.

He leaped into the courtyard and began demonstrating his palm art.

Shen Zhongyin performed only a short sequence, yet it fully revealed the technique’s exquisite profundity.

Its movements possessed the might of a wandering dragon and appeared utterly unmatched.

Although Lou Jing was still displeased that he had belittled her elders, she gradually became absorbed without realizing it and could not help admiring what she saw.

Even so, Lou Jing remained unwilling to learn.

The Qianyuan Sword Art alone was sufficient for her to study throughout her entire life.

Furthermore, who was Shen Zhongyin?

He was an assassin from the Feihua Alliance’s Swallow Tower.

How could she learn martial arts from him?

Shen Zhongyin did not care whether she liked it.

Once he decided to do something, he seemed determined to complete it.

He even recited the internal cultivation method to her.

Although Lou Jing made no deliberate effort to memorize it, Shen Zhongyin repeated it so often that an impression inevitably remained in her mind.

She asked, “Are you not afraid that after learning your palm techniques and internal art, I will discover a method to restrain you, reveal your weaknesses, and lead the righteous martial factions to surround and kill you?”

Shen Zhongyin smiled.

“You would not.”

Being seen through so completely left Lou Jing suddenly dispirited.

He was right. She would not.

It was not that she would never participate in hunting him down.

Rather, she would never reveal the internal method he had taught her.

He had passed the technique to her out of goodwill. For her to then use it against him was something she could not do, even if Shen Zhongyin was an evil man.

Shen Zhongyin remained at the restaurant for three days, and Lou Jing watched him for all three.

During their conversations, as long as they did not discuss their respective sects, they got along surprisingly well.

Lou Jing always felt relaxed around Shen Zhongyin.

Perhaps it was because he was wild, indulgent, and unrestrained, with none of the countless rules imposed by ordinary society.

At times, Lou Jing even felt somewhat happy in his company.

Although she showed no intention of practicing his art, Shen Zhongyin still taught her palm techniques.

He demonstrated them every day and even evaluated her aptitude and cultivation.

For the most part, he praised her as exceptionally gifted.

Many people had praised Lou Jing before, but she merely listened.

Anyone could say, “Your aptitude is extraordinary; you are a young genius.” Such words could be applied to any accomplished young martial artist.

Even when spoken sincerely, they rarely made the listener feel truly understood.

Shen Zhongyin was different.

He offered a genuine analysis of both her strengths and shortcomings, neither criticizing her unfairly nor praising her falsely.

Every sentence seemed to speak directly to her heart.

When he finally concluded with the modest compliment, “You are fine jade; once polished, you will become something remarkable,” the words became an immense encouragement that lifted her heart.

She was delighted.

On the fourth day, members of Caoliu Manor entered Xinyang City, apparently searching for Shen Zhongyin.

Only then did he leave the restaurant.

Since Lou Jing needed to continue watching his movements, she departed with him.

Because she and Shen Zhongyin had already spoken face-to-face, she no longer followed him secretly as she had at first.

They traveled more than forty li beyond Xinyang City.

Night was approaching, but fortunately, an inn stood not far ahead, sparing them from sleeping outdoors.

As they approached the inn, the disorderly thunder of hooves sounded in the distance.

A group of riders came galloping toward them.

The leading man wore short, practical clothing. His muscles bulged, and his beard and hair stood out like spear points.

His voice resembled the bellowing of an ox.

“We cannot rest tonight. I fear we will be too late!”

Another rider sighed.

“The master of the Southern Metallurgy Sect has opened the forge. We can only try to arrive first.”

Lou Jing could not help listening more carefully.

She was familiar with the Southern Metallurgy Sect.

It was a sword-forging faction located along the border of the Central Plains. Its techniques for tempering weapons were famous throughout the world.

Everyone knew that the swords and sabers produced by Southern Metallurgy were of exceptional quality.

Lou Jing’s shattered Snow Soul had been forged by one of its disciples.

Most Southern Metallurgy weapons were made by ordinary sect disciples.

When the sect master personally forged a sword, it was called “opening the forge.”

Throughout history, the number of times its successive masters had opened the forge could be counted on one’s fingers.

Some never forged a single weapon during their entire lifetime.

But whenever the forge was opened and a sword successfully completed, the result was inevitably a divine weapon.

Deliverance from Calamity, the Qianyuan sect master’s sword, had been forged by the founding ancestor of Southern Metallurgy.

It could slice through iron as though it were mud and possessed extraordinary spiritual power.

It was no wonder the riders were hurrying.

The Southern Metallurgy sect master opening the forge was a major event. Many martial artists would undoubtedly travel there to request that a weapon be forged for them.

The sect master would create only one weapon.

Every moment of delay meant one less chance of obtaining it.

The riders swept past Lou Jing and Shen Zhongyin, raising a cloud of dust.

The leading man said frivolously, “The last time the Southern Metallurgy sect master opened the forge was more than twenty years ago. He forged a sword called Spring Water, only for some useless woman to ruin it…”

His voice gradually faded into the distance.

Lou Jing had been walking toward the inn when a sudden gust rose beside her.

Shen Zhongyin shot forward as swiftly as lightning.

Gathering his qi and lightening his body, he used qinggong to overtake the galloping horses.

A horse’s terrified neigh sounded in the distance.

A fine steed reared and collapsed, immediately followed by a man’s agonized scream.

When Lou Jing arrived, she saw the horse twitching on the ground, its eyes bulging.

A corpse was trapped beneath it.

The man’s skull had been shattered, and brain matter was scattered everywhere, red and white mixed together in a gruesome pool.

From the corpse’s clothing and build, Lou Jing recognized him as the leading rider.

“Why did you kill him?” she asked.

He had merely been a passing traveler. How had he offended Shen Zhongyin?

Shen Zhongyin raised his head.

He wiped the splattered blood from his cheek with one finger, his gaze cold.

“I wanted to kill him, so I did.”

Lou Jing drew a sharp breath.

Only then did she suddenly remember that the man before her had always been a demon who killed without blinking.