Just then, Shen Qiao was on a road, walking north.
There was precisely the right amount of sun. Dressed in blue, carrying his bamboo staff, the ends of his robes fluttering, he couldn’t hold back a smile that curled the corners of his lips.
Squinting, and with a hand against his forehead to block out the sunlight, he could see the scene before him. Though he couldn’t see as clearly as before his injuries, what vision he did have now, he appreciated more than ever.
Before leaving, he’d gone to find Yuwen Qing and say his farewells, but the other man hadn’t been there. So, he penned a letter to Yuwen Qing and asked Ruru to pass it to him on his behalf. But Ruru was very much afraid of her master, so it was possible she’d given the letter to Yan Wushi first. Still, there wasn’t much in the letter beyond the standard courtesies.
Shen Qiao had thought Yan Wushi would refuse to let him go, but things had gone surprisingly smoothly—Yan Wushi said little and agreed straight away, leaving Shen Qiao somewhat taken aback.
This Huanyue Sect Leader’s character was just as the rumors painted him: mercurial and unpredictable. Even after they’d spent so much time together, Shen Qiao still dared not say that he completely understood him.
Perhaps it was because he’d refused to accept the demonic core, coupled with how hopeless the project of recovering his martial arts seemed. Yan Wushi no longer considered him a worthy rival, and in his disappointment, had been delighted to let him go. Or perhaps it was because he’d arduously climbed mountains to fend off Li Yue and Bai Rong’s attacks, and that act had finally moved Yan Wushi. Wouldn’t that prove that no matter how callous and unfeeling a person was, a trace of humanity still lay deep within their hearts?
Shen Qiao shook his head and laughed helplessly at his own conjectures. Perhaps he did think too well of others, but if made him happier, what was wrong with believing the best of people?
His journey out of Jiankang progressed smoothly. The region south of the Yangtze had always been prosperous since ancient times. It was bordered by land and water, and was politically stable as well. There, it was easy to forget that the world was still in turmoil.
However, as he crossed over the border of Chen and entered Qi, still heading north, the number of travelers and merchants dropped noticeably, and the expressions on their faces held less contentment, less joy. Instead, there was a nervousness and fatigue about them.
Shen Qiao found that he greatly enjoyed observing the emotions on all their faces, perhaps because he’d spent so long judging a person’s state by their voice. Even if he couldn’t see clearly, there were still quite a few discoveries to be made.
April became May as he traveled, walking and resting at intervals. His pace wasn’t slow, for when the mood came, he’d also apply some qinggong. Almost no one knew that this traveling scholar, wandering along carefree and relaxed supported by a cane, was actually the downtrodden former sect leader of Xuandu Mountain who’d been beholden to the Demon Lord.
By now, the news of Yan Wushi and Ruyan Kehui’s battle had spread throughout the populace. It seemed there was a grand martial arts conference happening in Liang Province, for Shen Qiao saw many people from the jianghu rushing that way and heard them all talking about the duel. Naturally, the people of Qi didn’t revere Ruyan Kehui the way the southerners did. Instead, their words were full of praise for Yan Wushi. It was human nature to admire those of great strength, and Yan Wushi’s strength won him many admirers—even some who weren’t from the demonic discipline.
Shen Qiao was in a teahouse outside Liang Province’s capital at the moment, listening to other patrons discuss how brilliant the fight between Yan Wushi and Ruyan Kehui had been. They hadn’t witnessed it personally, but their accounts were so exaggerated and flowery one would think they’d seen it themselves. Shen Qiao couldn’t help but smile.
There was an empty seat beside him, and soon someone sat down in it. Shen Qiao had his head lowered as he sipped his tea, and before he could look up, he heard the newcomer say, “What a coincidence!”
Shen Qiao found himself at a loss for words.