The World of the Pirate Consort prologue

I’m coming back with the new project! It’s unedited so I apologised for the messy english…

The ML of this series was very irritating for half of the story, so bear with me as I translated it. Fortunately he redeemed himself for the later half of the story (he was practically suffering for what he did to MC, the grovelling that he did to the MC was very satisfying). Also, unlike another novels, the MC didn’t forgive him easily, spoiler*spoiler*spoiler*they only made up and got back together again in the epilogue*spoiler*spoiler*spoiler. (highlight the empty gap in between to read the spoiler)

Initially, I wanted to release this last week, but I kept getting distracted by the new c-drama “Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms”.

P.s. please do the as well to decide the format of my notes.

Anyway, without further ado, this is the prologue of The World of the Pirate Consort….

"You, are you certain you want to fight me?" She straightforwardly fixed her eyes on him. The clear eyes that formerly glistened like s.h.i.+mmering water, seemed to be serene like pond of falling snow, profound and dreary cold.

"Yes!" He replied solidly, without a little bit of hesitation. His voice was very cold, his gaze was even colder, cold like the north wind on this devastating peak of cliff, letting people to feel the cold seeping into their bones.

She faintly laughed, as it turned out, the person that he loved, was not her all along. Now, for his sweetheart1, he was finally willing to meet her at the battlefield.

What was she? What was the baby in her belly? Unexpectedly all of it wasn't comparable to that one woman in his heart!

Four years of stupidly waiting, days of loving affection, were merely in exchange for this one duel!

She determinately turned around, walked several steps up to below the old plum tree on the cliff's edge.

She reached out her hand to take out the cutla.s.s2, "crescent moon". Raised her hand, lifted the blade across the top of the tree trunk.

cutla.s.s

A woman —the one that was hanging on the top of the plum tree branch, the one that was his beloved woman— upon seeing this, sounded a miserable sorrowful cry.

He glanced tenderly upon the woman: "Don't be afraid, I'll definitely save you!"

Ah, as it turned out, he could also be this gentle, it was just that she had never be the recipient, that's all.

"What do you want to do?" He turned around and looked at her, the dark pupils was filled in with severe cold appearance.

She stretched out her lips, couldn't help but to let out a series of laughter, somewhat arrogant, somewhat sinister, also somewhat unspeakable bitterness.

Her gaze swept upon his face and felt on the white snow, the pure and clean snow reflected the sunlight was p.r.i.c.king her eyes like ice needles. The wind on the precipice was also suddenly cold, blowing through her clothes, blowing to her heart, the bottom of her heart was cold.

precipice (overhanging cliff)

"Didn't you say that I am the one who caught her, I caught her, naturally is to kill her. You said you want to fight me, well then, within a hundred strikes, if you beat me, then you could take the one that you truly love away!" Her tone in each line and each sentence was indifferent. The slender fingers slowly stroke the surface of the cutla.s.s "crescent moon", the s.h.i.+ny clear blade was reflecting her fair and beautiful complexion with an absolute splendid bearing.

"Fine!" He nodded his head, indifferently spoke.

He just simply agreed ah…

"However, no need to use sword, let's fight with empty-handed." He stated with deep voice.

She put away the cutla.s.s, slowly tied it up on her waist. Was he afraid of a single misstep from her, would chop off the plum tree, harmed his sweetheart?

"En garde!" She raised her head, fixed her gaze on, her eyes were like a submerged ice.

She secretly reached out to caress her lower abdomen, she still hadn't told him about his child in her stomach, this way was also good, he would never know. He wouldn't know whether this child was a male or a female, would be born to be like her or like him. He wouldn't know whether in the future this child was a clever or a mischievous one…

She engaged, fiercely moved; he engaged, also relentless.

The wind blew, the lingering snow on the white plum scattered like rain.

First strike!

Second strike!

Third strike!

…

On the precipice, the sleeves were fluttering freely, the wind blew fiercely.

Several old plum trees were hit by forces of the two persons, the rain of flowers scattered all over the sky, fell and withered down.

Her martial art, although was not as good as him, but for him to defeat her within a hundred strikes, it was nevertheless also not easy to do.

Two palms. .h.i.t each other, her eyes flashed beyond their intersected palms, she caught the sight of his calm expression with the misty ink eyes, her heart was struck by a very cold ice crystal.

This was not their first duel, previously, he even had let her, had accompanied her to play. Yet today, he actually moved swiftly and fiercely, pressuring at every step, he wanted to beat her in the shortest time, to rescue the woman in his heart.

Two person were immersed in the fight. Just after listened to a light snapping sound, she paused and looked back, only to see the plum branch —on which that woman was hanged— was about to break. She was rather near the plum tree, she tapped her toe, turned and jumped toward that trembling plum tree, simultaneously pulled the cutla.s.s on her waist and moved toward the woman.

The cutla.s.s in her hand —soft just like a plain silk rope— wrapped around that woman's waist, with a pull of force, sent the woman to the top of the cliff.

She hadn't fully turned her body around yet, when she encountered his Thunder Palm.

The chest was in pain, her mouth spurted out blood everywhere, it spilled on the top of the pure white snow.

Unpleasant red, frightening red, miserable red.

Her lithe body was simultaneously pushed to beneath the precipice, fell to the serene and hidden depth under the cliff.

"No!" He shouted in fright, directly charged into the precipice, reached out with his hand forward, yet merely grabbed her sleeve. And he, more than half of his body was also dragged down by the momentum of her fall, the tip of his foot hooked on the overhanging tree vine on the cliff.

Two person —one at the top, one at the bottom— was hanging on the precipice, in imminent danger.

"Hold on to me!" He screamed at her in fright.

She gazed at his black eyes, they had always been hidden in depth and calm, now they were filled with terror and fear. She smiled, that smile was extremely magnificent yet melancholy, resembling a blooming flower of roseleaf raspberry —as much as it likes to bloom, it would later wilt and fall down in the same way.

roseleaf raspberry (Rubus rosifolius var. coronarius)

Why?

Why even though he didn't love her, yet he wanted to be with her? Why even though he had been with her, yet he married someone else?

Why was he pus.h.i.+ng her at every step? Why did he have to be this heartless?

There were so many "whys", but she didn't ask any of it.

Because she no longer wanted to know.

"I wish I never met you. In this lifetime, from now and later on, I shall never see you again." She said softly, her voice was extremely gentle, soft and finally penetrated to his bone.

She reached out her hand, but not to grip his hand, rather, with a bright smile, she ripped apart the sleeve that he held on, tore to shred the last piece of silk that connected her and him.

Her figure rapidly fell down, an absolutely beautiful smile plastered on her pale face.

A beautiful figure with fluttering long hair and green dress flew away on a pure white snow background, resembling a very beautiful and superior udumbara3, abruptly bloomed yet wilted in a split second.

1.Sweetheart: literally, the words used refer to one’s true love/ the person of one’s thoughts.
2.cutla.s.s: the words that were used were wan dao (弯刀), which literally translated into "curved/bent blade".
3.Udumbara flower: According to Buddhist scriptures, the udumbara is a sacred flower that comes from the Buddha's realms. The udumbara flower is said in Buddhist legend to bloom only once every 3,000 years, the last time being before the birth of Buddha. The flower's name comes from Sanskrit and means "auspicious flower from heaven." It is of the purest white, untainted by the colors of the temporal world.