Chapter 10: Distinct

Li Miao and Xiao Si ambled along at a leisurely pace, walking and waiting as they went; let them be for now.

Let us turn to Wang Hai and Mei Qinghe.

They had left the city half an hour earlier, and even if Zhao Ying and the others spurred their horses at full speed, the two would still need to wait here for a while.

Wang Hai noticed Mei Qinghe standing in silence, gripping her sword, her gaze hollow as she stared into the distance, saying nothing, her thoughts a mystery. He wondered to himself, “Has this girl also been driven to confusion by the commander?”

Of course, by “driven” he meant not in a crude way. Li Miao was a cynic, apt to toy with people regardless of their nature; the kind-hearted seldom came to real harm at his hands, yet spiritual wounds were inevitable.

Wang Hai had spent the previous night in Xiao Si’s quarters, unaware of what transpired with Li Miao. He couldn’t have known that Mei Qinghe was simply lost in the aftermath of her vengeance, her future uncertain, and so she had turned inward, unwilling to speak.

Since they would be working together under Li Miao from now on, and since Mei Qinghe had already been recognized by Li Miao, Wang Hai thought to foster a bit of camaraderie. Searching for words, he said, “Miss Mei.”

Mei Qinghe turned her head. “Master Wang.” By now, she knew that Li Miao and the others belonged to the Embroidered Guards.

“No need for such formality. From now on, we all serve the commander. I am only a bit older; you may call me Brother Wang.”

“I heard Zhao Dehua’s screams last night. He must have died at your hand, somewhere atop a rooftop outside. Why go through the trouble of carrying his body back to his room, instead of simply disposing or burning it somewhere?”

Wang Hai was genuinely curious about this.

After a pause, Mei Qinghe replied, “It is an unwritten rule of the martial world: with death, all debts are settled.”

“I had a blood feud with Zhao Dehua, but none with his family.”

“In death, he is nothing but decaying flesh.”

“I returned this corpse to his family. It means nothing to me, but at least I spare them needless worry.”

Mei Qinghe’s father had vanished while searching for her, which explained her choice.

“Besides, years ago, Zhao Dehua did indeed risk his life to protect us once, and he never struck the killing blow against me.”

“I have repaid him with unrest in death, and now I grant him peace in burial. Thus, our debts are cleared.”

Wang Hai looked Mei Qinghe up and down, pondering, “Is this girl a bit too stubborn?”

“Her temperament matches the commander’s, but such rigidity in action is bound to cause trouble.”

He did not know the details of Mei Qinghe’s grudge against Zhao Dehua, so he said nothing more, but resolved to help Li Miao temper her character.

Someone who was so meticulous even in vengeance was unlikely to live long.

Now, an opportunity presented itself.

Wang Hai said, “When Zhao Dehua’s daughter arrives, what do you plan to do?”

Mei Qinghe replied, “I will explain everything to her first. If reason fails, I will not simply wait for death.”

“I must trouble Brother Wang to watch my back when the time comes.”

Wang Hai nodded. “Of course, of course,” though inwardly, he resolved to take this chance to teach Mei Qinghe a lesson.

After a short wait by the roadside, they heard the thunder of hooves in the distance.

Mei Qinghe set her sword down and walked empty-handed to stand in the middle of the road.

Wang Hai asked in surprise, “Aren’t you a disciple of Mount Hua? Why not use your sword?”

Mei Qinghe replied, “This is a private vendetta. The Tiger Might Escort Agency are not villains. I cannot shame my sect’s name by using Mount Hua swordsmanship.”

Wang Hai was speechless, inwardly mocking, “This girl really isn’t very bright.”

Soon, Zhao Ying and the men from the Tiger Might Escort galloped up. Seeing Mei Qinghe and Wang Hai standing ahead, they slowed down.

Zhao Ying glanced at Wang Hai, then scrutinized Mei Qinghe from head to toe.

“You… you’re the one who attacked my father the other night.”

She herself had been drugged and hadn’t seen the assailant, but Zhao Dehua had described the woman’s figure to her, so she was certain Mei Qinghe was the masked woman.

“It was you who killed my father.”

“Yes.”

“Why?!”

Face to face with her enemy, Zhao Ying’s eyes reddened. She dismounted, sword in hand, voice trembling with fury.

“For the murder of my mother.”

“You lie!”

Zhao Ying pointed her sword at Mei Qinghe. “My father was a good man, never making enemies, even preferring to suffer losses rather than cause harm. If your mother was killed by him, it must have been because she gave him no choice!”

Mei Qinghe glanced at Zhao Ying’s sword. “Zhao Dehua did not teach you his claw techniques, but made you learn the sword instead.”

“You and I are about the same age. Fifteen years ago, when he killed my mother, you must have been old enough to remember.”

“Have you ever wondered where he learned those sinister claw techniques?”

“Have you ever wondered why, with his natural gifts, he could master such a dark art so well?”

Zhao Ying was silenced by these questions.

Zhao Ying had been raised well by Zhao Dehua.

Strangely, no matter how evil a person may be, even if their wickedness brings them great fortune, they often strive to raise their children as good people.

Zhao Dehua had not taught Zhao Ying his venomous claw skills, but had her study the upright, straightforward way of the sword.

And Zhao Ying had lived up to his hopes, becoming a person as honest and forthright as her blade.

She said nothing at first, signaling the escorts to surround Mei Qinghe and Wang Hai, then asked,

“Do you have any witnesses?”

Mei Qinghe shook her head. “I alone survived that year.”

“Any evidence?”

She shook her head again. “So many years have passed—the proof has long since rotted away in the mountains.”

“Then why should I believe you?”

“You killed my father, and now, by your word alone, expect me to abandon this deep hatred?!”

Zhao Dehua had never spoken of the past to anyone, so Zhao Ying knew nothing.

“For all these years, everyone—myself, my mother, all the escort men, even those in the martial world—have known my father as a good man!”

“With a single careless statement, you expect me to believe that everyone has been wrong about him for more than a decade?!”

Mei Qinghe spoke calmly, “I don’t expect you to believe me, but I must say it.”

“Remember, my name is Mei Qinghe. Your father’s death last night was at my hands alone; no one else was involved.”

“If you seek revenge, come for me. Whether life or death, I will face it.”

Zhao Ying stared into Mei Qinghe’s eyes. “Very well!”

“I will not doubt my father based on your baseless claims.”

“But if your conscience is clear, then kill me—you needn’t hold back.”

“And I swear, for the rest of my life, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth! We will not rest until one of us is dead!”

“Agreed,” Mei Qinghe answered, raising her hand and taking her stance.

“Kill!” Zhao Ying cried, charging with her sword, the escort guards attacking alongside her.