Chapter 41: Journeying Far to the Magnificent Feast of the Mortal Realm

Ji Huo left the gates and mounted his swift horse, hurrying toward Hongzhou without delay. Yet the capital was no short distance from Hongzhou; even carrier pigeons had taken three days to reach it, so he had no hope of arriving quickly. He resolved, therefore, to travel by day and spend his nights making do in the wilderness.

There were many advantages to riding, but it certainly made one’s backside sore, and required constant attention to the road ahead. As he passed through a peach grove, the mountainside was ablaze with the vivid pink of peach blossoms, as radiant as the evening clouds. A gentle breeze sent petals fluttering in the air, transforming the scene into a veritable fairyland. The rich fragrance of the flowers filled the air, refreshing and intoxicating in equal measure. The sound of a clear stream added to the enchantment, making him feel embraced by nature itself.

Drawn by the sound of water, Ji Huo looked toward its source and saw, deep within the peach grove, a sparkling river hidden away, its surface glimmering in the light. Upon the riverbank, a beautiful woman clad in violet crouched beside the water. She removed her veil, revealing a face that was both delicate and ethereal, though tinged with weariness. Picking up a silken handkerchief, she began to gently wipe her cheeks.

Sensing an unusual presence, the woman looked up, and her gaze met Ji Huo’s. In that instant, time seemed to halt. Ji Huo stared, momentarily dazed, a rush of indescribable feeling welling up within him. Unthinkingly, he murmured a line of poetry:

“To journey afar for a glimpse of transcendent beauty, to behold the peerless face that graces the world.”

The words perfectly captured the awe and wonder in his heart at the sight of the woman before him.

Her eyes brightened slightly—

“Duang~”

—and then Ji Huo crashed his head straight into a tree branch, tumbled clumsily from his horse, and landed in a heap.

“Pfft!”

The woman could not help but laugh aloud, her laughter a hundredfold more bewitching than the blossoming of myriad flowers across the world.

“Ha! Hahaha! What an inconsiderate tree—how wickedly placed!”

Ji Huo scrambled to his feet, his once-clean clothes now filthy. Embarrassed, his face crimson, he glared fiercely at his horse in the distance.

Riding was indeed perilous; had he been an ordinary man, he might have suffered a concussion from such a blow.

He dusted off his clothes, mounted again, and, with a hard smack to the horse’s flank, galloped furiously away. He did not dare to look back, so mortified was he, though he could feel those clear, bright eyes still fixed on him, his cheeks burning ever hotter with shame.

“What a humiliation!”

His grumbling could be heard from afar.

The woman’s lips curled in persistent amusement. She whispered to herself, “What a fool. Judging from his attire, he must be the son of some official family from the Great Zhou.”

Even before night had fallen, the sky was already heavy with dark clouds, promising a downpour before long. As luck would have it, a ruined temple appeared ahead. Ji Huo decided to seek shelter there for the night.

The temple was overgrown with weeds, but for one sleeping rough, finding a roof to keep out the rain was fortune enough. He had just kindled a fire when suddenly his horse neighed in alarm, and a figure in violet appeared at the entrance.

Ji Huo started slightly, then composed himself and averted his gaze.

The woman in violet also paused in surprise, her eyes curving faintly with amusement. She tied her horse nearby, took down the sword from its back, and walked over to sit beside Ji Huo’s fire.

Ji Huo acted as though he hadn’t seen her, quietly tending the flames.

“Hey, what a coincidence!” the woman said, her veil now in place. Mischief glimmered in her exposed eyes.

“My name isn’t ‘hey,’” Ji Huo replied offhandedly.

“Then what is your name?” she asked.

Ji Huo considered his many aliases, but at last simply answered, “Ji Huo.”

“Oh~” she drew out the syllable, her voice melodious. Then she repeated, “Ji Huo—what a coincidence.”

For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling she was teasing him.

Ji Huo turned to look; she was crouched beside the fire, the flickering light casting a golden glow over her, and even with her face half-covered, her beauty was breathtaking.

“Yes, quite a coincidence,” he replied stiffly, then turned his attention back to the flames.

Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning split the sky, and soon the rain came pouring down, drumming fiercely on the leaves and the broken tiles of the temple. Heavy drops cascaded from the eaves in thick streams, like curtains of rain.

“Wow, the rain here really is something—I haven’t seen a storm like this in ages,” the woman exclaimed in awe.

Ji Huo glanced at her but said nothing.

Her eyes grew even more playful. “What are you thinking about? I’m talking to you!”

Ji Huo’s lips parted; after a moment’s hesitation, he finally managed, “What is your name?”

Her eyes widened in mock surprise before she burst out laughing again, utterly delighted. “So that’s what’s been on your mind! If you want to know my name, just ask; why hold it in so long, you silly thing!”

Ji Huo’s face flushed again, the earlier tension of being alone in a ruined temple with a beautiful woman—an experience he’d never had in all his single years—suddenly dissipating. He retorted anxiously, “I told you my name, so it’s only right that you tell me yours! I waited so long, but you wouldn’t say a word! This isn’t my fault at all!”

A stormy night, a man and a woman stranded together... all these phrases conjured up memories of those “import-export” films he’d seen in his previous life. It was all the fault of those films—yes, that was it!

“All right, all right, my mistake. I don’t know the rules of your martial world,” the woman said, laughing unrestrainedly. After a moment’s thought, she suddenly removed her veil, revealing her stunning face. Smiling radiantly, she said, “My name is Xia Ningshang.”

Outside, thunder and lightning raged; inside, the fire crackled and popped. The orange glow lit her cheeks, flames reflected in her eyes, her elegant silhouette outlined on the wall.

Ji Huo looked at her for a moment before averting his gaze and murmuring, “A lovely name.”

She gave a little hum. “I thought you’d have prettier words for me than that.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “To journey afar for a glimpse of transcendent beauty, to behold the peerless face that graces the world... Not bad at all, such fine poetry. It’s the first time anyone has composed something like that for me.”

He recalled that she must have been at least fifty meters away at the time—yet she’d heard him. The thought flashed through Ji Huo’s mind as he stared blankly, deadpan. “I was simply inspired in the moment and recited a couplet. It was pure coincidence that you happened to be there—nothing more.”

Xia Ningshang laughed again. “If you think I’m pretty, just say so. Why be so roundabout? I’ve heard that compliment so many times, I’m used to it by now. Or is this the famed reserve of people from the Central Plains?”

“You’re not from the Central Plains?” Ji Huo asked.

“I’m from the Kingdom of Long. I’d long heard tales of the legendary martial world here, so I came to see it for myself,” Xia Ningshang replied with a smile. “Never thought the first person I’d meet from this world would be someone like you.”

The Kingdom of Long—now that was far. Of the Four Kingdoms, Great Zhou bordered Liang, and they quarreled constantly. North of Zhou lay Zhao, and further north still was the Kingdom of Long. Relations between Zhao and Zhou were lukewarm, as they were usually preoccupied with fighting the Kingdom of Long; the two were like sworn enemies, always at each other’s throats.

For her to travel from Long all the way to Zhou was indeed a remarkable journey, requiring her to cross the entire Kingdom of Zhao.

“You must have a lot of free time, coming all this way just for a look,” Ji Huo remarked.

“Rainy nights, the romance of wanderers—these tales have enchanted me since childhood. Now that I had the chance, I couldn’t let it pass. I knew I’d regret it if I never saw it for myself,” Xia Ningshang said, lifting a hand to sweep back her hair, her red lips parting as she continued softly.