Zhao Chiying frowned. “But you…”
“In the past, I dueled Kunye and fell from a cliff in defeat. Even though there’s another story behind that, one which others need not know, a loss is a loss. If there is another chance to fight Kunye now, I will undertake it with everything I have. Please give me this chance, Sect Leader Zhao.”
“And what if I refuse?” asked Zhao Chiying.
Shen Qiao smiled cheerfully. “Then this humble Daoist can only shamelessly loiter here until Kunye shows up.”
Zhao Chiying stared at him for a long while, then let out a sudden sigh. “What have Bixia Sect and I done to be worthy of making a friend like you?”
“There are some who never understand each other in their lifetime, and there are some who become old friends with a single meeting. Zhu-xiong gave up his life for me, a stranger he’d met only once. Of course I’ll fight for Bixia Sect as well. And there is indeed some history between me and Kunye—it’s not all for Bixia Sect’s sake.”
Zhao Chiying had met Shen Qiao only a scant few times; they barely knew each other. But because they’d weathered the crisis at Bixia Sect together, she’d gained an excellent impression of him. And now she saw how bravely he volunteered himself for a sect he had no ties to, and she was overcome with gratitude. “I have no words to express how grateful I am for your immense kindness,” she said. “I shall treasure Daoist Master Shen’s friendship and your trouble deep within my heart. I cannot claim that I’ll be able to repay it in abundance, but if you ever have need of anything at all, Bixia Sect will go through fire and water for you, no matter what.”
They discussed the matter of Kunye for a while. Once they’d more or less made their decisions, Shen Qiao noticed the fatigue on Shiwu’s face. He got up and took his leave while the other remained, and brought Shiwu back to the guest room.
On the way there, Shiwu asked Shen Qiao, “Shizun, just now Sect Leader Zhao talked about keeping your trouble deep within her heart. What trouble was she speaking of? I didn’t really understand.”
“Bixia Sect has been in steady decline,” said Shen Qiao. “Sect Leader Zhao didn’t say as much, but she must feel terribly anxious. She knows that the strong rule in the jianghu, so she leaps to improve her martial arts, hoping for great achievements. That way, she can protect her sect from outside powers. Unfortunately, Lu Feng betrayed them. He colluded with outsiders to launch an assault just as she was at a critical juncture in her cultivation. Sect Leader Zhao was forced to break her meditation. Though she isn’t showing it, she’s actually suffering internal injuries right now. If she duels Kunye, she has no chance of victory. She knows that I proposed to duel him myself to help her out of this predicament. That’s why she said she’s grateful—for the trouble I went to.”
Shiwu quietly gasped and felt himself grow nervous. “Then what about Shizun? Can you defeat Kunye? I heard that your esteemed self already lost to him once before. Is he very strong?”
The boy’s worry had sent him into a panic, and he spoke thoughtlessly. Anyone else might have first considered whether their words would hurt Shen Qiao’s pride.
Smiling, Shen Qiao answered, “He isn’t the strongest, but he certainly has his strengths that he excels at. My martial arts haven’t fully recovered yet—I cannot say that victory is certain.”
“What are your chances of winning?”
Shen Qiao tried to smooth out Shiwu’s tightly pinched brows. “About fifty-fifty.”
Not only did Shiwu’s brows fail to smooth out, they pinched together even harder. Shen Qiao’s words had obviously scared him.
Kunye wasn’t as strong a martial artist as Duan Wenyang, but he wasn’t much weaker. Working with Yu Ai to poison Shen Qiao cast dishonor over his victory, but his actual skills weren’t lacking. If Zhao Chiying faced him uninjured, the fight might end in a tie. But now it was hard to say. If Shen Qiao weren’t here, perhaps Bixia Sect really would be forced into either protecting the sect to their deaths or preemptively retreating. But if that happened and they retreated, Zhunan Peak would be occupied by outsiders, and Bixia Sect’s generations of legacy would be destroyed right then and there.
And so what Shen Qiao promised was more than a duel or a favor—it was something that might very well preserve Bixia Sect’s crumbling, battered foundations.
Shiwu threw his arms around Shen Qiao and buried his head in Shen Qiao’s chest. “Do you have to fight?” he mumbled. “Your martial arts haven’t even fully returned!”
Shen Qiao hugged him back. “Fifty-fifty doesn’t mean I don’t stand a chance. If I give the fight everything I have, I can win. When I lost to Kunye, I fell to the lowest point in my life. Regardless of how many reasons or excuses I claim, he’s a stumbling block in my path, a personal demon I must face. I stumbled and fell, so now I must learn to stand anew. Do you understand?”
Shiwu continued to cling to him, saying nothing. It was a long time before he whispered, “I understand… I just don’t want anything to happen to you…”
“Nothing will happen to me.” Shen Qiao laughed. “I am your shifu, so I have to live to be a hundred years old! I promised to live out Zhu-xiong’s share of life as well as my own. When you’re a white-bearded old man, this master will still be dragging you around by the ear and lecturing you all day long! Let’s see if you find it irritating then!”
A laugh sputtered from Shiwu; he couldn’t help breaking into a smile.
Shen Qiao sighed and stroked the boy’s head. “Other masters have their disciples racking their brains for every possible way to show their master respect, and yet my disciple has me racking mine for every possible way to make him happy! I took on such a respected role, yet get no dignity at all!”
Shiwu was beaming and didn’t offer a retort. You might be the least dignified master, he thought to himself, but you are the world’s best master.
Just the thought that he was Shen Qiao’s disciple was enough to fill him with satisfaction.
For two days, the foot of the mountain remained quiet, and no outsiders arrived. This gave Bixia Sect the time to rest and reorganize themselves. Shiwu helped Fan Yuanbai and the others lay to rest the Bixia Sect disciples who’d died in battle, one by one. After all the blood and slaughter, all that was left of this once-lively sect was an empty void.
By great fortune, Fan Yuanbai and Zhou Yexue had survived, but there was no joy to be found on their faces. They both grieved for the fellow disciples who’d been lost and were anxious about the fierce battle that might soon arrive. Naturally, they weren’t in high spirits.
On the third day, the bell outside Zhengyang Pavilion rang, and soon its peals reached everywhere in Bixia Sect. It was a message from the disciples keeping watch over the mid-mountain region: someone was coming up the mountain, and they couldn’t stop him.