Green Dragon Totem Chapter 18 Part1

Shan Chao and Yuwen Hu rushed up at the same time, wanting to grab the Snow Lotus, yet at this time it was definitely too late.

— Xie Yun's brow furrowed slightly, and his sleeve flew towards the fire-torch.

Right at the moment when Fu Wenjie was about to put the flower into his mouth, suddenly the fire-light within the underground chamber ceased, sinking into pitch-black darkness.

"Zhongwen…" Within the darkness a female voice abruptly drifted out, the lingering sound rising in spirals, sad and moving.

The scalps of everyone present immediately crawled, and Yuwen Hu roared out: "Who is it? Who is there?"

"'…Zhongwen…"

Fu Wenjie's movements had frozen, raising his head to look around as if in a dream, muttering: "Wanjuan… Wanjuan?"

Shan Chao clearly heard that call of Zhongwen come from Xie Yun behind him, and in his heart immediately realised—Zhongwen should be Fu Wenjie's courtesy name1, and aside from those people who were especially close, this style of address would not normally be used.

At the next moment just as expected, the cracking sounds of shrinking bone and the sound of rushed footsteps sounded at the same time, and Shan Chao felt someone quickly stride past his back, directly walking towards a basket box corner of the underground chamber.

The underground chamber was decorated in the style of a marital chamber, and Fu Wenjie had carried down all of Wanjuan's things in life, thus the pear-wood basket box next to the dressing table should store the clothes that his wife wore in life. On the basis of Old Madam Fu's nature most likely these things of the deceased should have been burnt, yet how could Fu Wenjie agree, he was bound to secretly keep them away.

As expected the sound of the box being opened arose, and then a robe was unfurled in mid-air.

"Wanjuan?" Fu Wenjie's consciousness was delirious, his hands aimlessly waving in mid-air: "Is that you? You came to see me, you came to take me away?"

A crack resounded, and a fire-starter quietly lit up in the corner.

Shan Chao glanced over, immediately freezing to stare.

Within the darkness as deep as ink, that small star of fire seemed like a firefly, s.h.i.+ning with a hazy and dazzling halo. By the pear-wood basket box the silhouette of a female figure was slowly turning around, a pink gown draped over her, the silhouette of a elegant profile revealed behind the embroidered light muslin.

Fu Wenjie's hoa.r.s.e sobs seemed to break the ice, slowly drifting through the silent atmosphere:

"Wanjuan…"

Everyone was astonished to the point of speechlessness, and a few soldiers stood there frozen like statues, and Yuwen Hu's astonished gaze quickly turned to a complicated and ineffable expression.

Yet Xie Yun was very calm. Under everyone's gaze he walked towards Fu Wenjie, his footsteps silent, almost as if he was drifting across the ground.

"Don't cry, Zhongwen," he calmly said.

—that voice was gentle and subtle, hoa.r.s.e and hard to distinguish, possibly because he had jabbed the acupoints close to his throat, it was even more delicate than when he was masquerading as "Miss Long", now matter how they listened it really resembled a woman's voice!

Fu Wenjie spotted Xie Yun, and everyone else closely stared at Fu Wenjie, hardly daring to breathe. A sort of deadlock appeared within the entire dusky underground chamber, and with the addition of the great coffin, the scenario was simply weird beyond description.

It had only been time enough for several breaths, yet it seemed to pa.s.s as long as several years, and Fu Wenjie finally reached out his hand in a daze:

"That's… that's great, to see you again…"

Venting breaths rose and fell, and everyone heard the sounds of their hearts receding from their throats back into their chests.

Xie Yun walked forward, slowly kneeling before Fu Wenjie who was covered in blood. The flickering light from the fire-starter reflected from behind him. From this angle half of his face was hidden behind the gauze, with only the corners of his eyes glimmering with light: "What are you doing, Zhongwen, why are you injured?"

Fu Wenjie muttered: "I… I got revenge for you, I killed everyone, are you happy?"

Xie Yun remained silent, Fu Wenjie gave choking sobs with tears: "I miss you, Wanjuan, I really miss you…"

The Young Master burst into tears, and perhaps due to blood being acc.u.mulated in his throat, his sobs were so sharp that they had changed pitch, as if sandpaper was sc.r.a.ping against metal and made people feel unwell in their hearts.

He hit himself with his own hand, nervously repeating "I was wrong" "I'm sorry", with tears following his pale and ashen cheek to tumble drop after drop, his complexion warped to the extent that it convulsed, and due to excessive sobbing his entire body trembled, as if even the pain of having his shoulder shot through by the golden arrow had been numbed. Fresh blood flowed unceasingly from the wound, pooling into a small swamp on the ground.

Everyone watched his hand in nervousness, as the Snow Lotus was tightly clutched in his hand, and several petals had already fallen, floating on the bloodstains on the floor tiles.

A soldier could not stay still and was about to move, and was pulled to a stop by Yuwen Hu: "Wait."

Xie Yun mildly said: "Will you put down the thing in your hand?"

Yet the emotionally stirred Fu Wenjie did not seem to hear it.

"Everyday I… Everyday I think of you, I was wrong Wanjuan, if at the start I did not insist on marrying you, if you did not have the child… everyday I regret, why were you the one who left?"

"I killed you, everyone in the world killed you, they all deserve to die!" Fu Wenjie's pitch changed, an incomparably frantic ruthlessness pa.s.sing out amidst the choking: "I want them to taste despair too, I want them to die in apology! I sent them down to accompany you, one by one! They all deserve to die—!"

The final syllable echoed for a very long time, and everyone could not help but shudder.

Xie Yun reached out to lightly hold Fu Wenjie's cold fingertips:

"I know, I miss you too."

In that instant there seemed to have some sort of magic, and Fu Wenjie abruptly fell silent, looking at Xie Yun with trembling lips.

—actually in those conditions of low visibility, with hazy tears blurring his eyes, he really could not see anything clearly.

"Wanjuan…" He whispered, "Do you hate me?"

"No," Xie Yun gently said, "I forgave you already."

Fu Wenjie gave a sentimental and stupid laugh, every sound echoing in the dark tunnel, in a way that let one's blood run cold.

"…that's nice, Wanjuan, I just knew that you wouldn't hate me… you're beautiful, you're still so beautiful."

Even for one hardened on the battlefield like Yuwen Hu, had the chills in his heart aroused by this strange and weird scene, and a few soldiers by his side suddenly had their calves shaking unconsciously.

Yet Xie Yun looked directly at Fu Wenjie, the corners of his pink lips rising slightly, his gaze as gentle as that of a young lady: "The flower in your hand is beautiful, could you help me pin it up?"

For a moment Fu Wenjie did not seem to understand, just blankly sitting there. Only when Xie Yun's gaze turned towards his tightly curled other hand, and slightly nodded down at the same time, did he show a slight reaction from the chaos, and chuckled.

"Pinning flowers, pinning flowers… you're right. 'Since my husband went to the east, my head has been like the flying artemisia. It is not that I could not anoint and wash it; but for whom should I adorn myself?' 2"

Fu Wenjie absently raised the hand clutching the Snow Lotus, and blood dripped from between his fingers, following his fingertips to drip into Xie Yun's dark hair.

Yet he himself did not seem aware of it, a slack look floating up in his eyes, with an expression both wretched and infatuated, as if pa.s.sing through the gloomy underground tunnel and shaking flames, to see an even more fleeting and remote warm and longing scene in his memories: "It is not that I could not anoint and wash it; but for whom should I adorn myself?"

His hand slightly paused, and everyone breathing stopped, the surroundings sinking into deathly stillness in an instant.

—that bloodstained Snow Lotus, was stuck into the hair by Xie Yun's earlobe by Fu Wenjie.

Yuwen Hu took the initiative: "Commander Xie, come back!"

He was about to advanced with sabre drawn, yet Xie Yun did not move, and seemed not to care about everything around him, only maintaining his half-kneeling posture and smiling at Fu Wenjie: "Do you want to leave with me?"

Fu Wenjie slightly widened his eyes.

Xie Yun repeated: "Do you want to leave with me?"

Shan Chao suddenly realised something, and blurted out: "Don't!"

When he said this it was already too late, as Fu Wenjie broke out in laughter, the laugh sounding like a gurgle due to blood blocking his throat, strange and terrifying — yet his expression was happy, or it could be said, the Young Master Fu of Sword-Forging Manor, had never before exposed such a look of expectation and happiness.

He said: "Yes."

"Don't!" Shan Chao broke into a run forward: "Stop!"

—right at this instant, Xie Yun's palm was like a knife, and blood burst forth in a splash to strike into Fu Wenjie's heart!

"……" Fu Wenjie stared ahead in a daze, and a large burst of blood bubbled from his mouth, his entire body jerking and contorting, but that only continued for several breaths. Right then he fell down on his face, his pupils constricting and then dilating completely.

"… Wan…" His last breath seemed like a murmur, flitting across his cold and s.h.i.+vering lips: "Wanjuan…"

Xie Yun leant down by his ear, and whispered: "I am here."

Fu Wenjie forced a smile out, hurriedly heaving several breaths, and at least closed his eyes at rest.

It was completely silent within the underground chamber, and n.o.body made a sound or moved, with not even a breath heard. A silence like a miming show continued for a very long time, and at last Xie Yun straightened himself, gave a long, thorough sigh, and stood up from beside Fu Wenjie's cold corpse.

1 ZH: 字, also called 表字, is a name given on adulthood in addition to one's given name. See here for more info.

2 ZH: 自伯之东，首如飞蓬；岂无膏沐，谁适为容？- a stanza from a poem in the Book of Songs, Odes of Wei.

Next >>