Chapter 286: Position

Clouds dotted the sky, bringing a touch of shade to Hangzhou. Outside, the distant yet sometimes close sounds of firecrackers and gongs could be faintly heard. Xiaochan ran into the shade with a wooden bucket, hanging washed clothes on a rope strung across the courtyard. The young girl, in the prime of her fresh and lively youth, wore a patched gray dress, but its hem, dancing occasionally in the breeze, still highlighted her slender and graceful figure. She hung the laundry, smiling, and chatted intermittently with the young man sitting under the eaves, reading a book.

He was her master, and now, her own man.

“It’s so lively out there… Master, do you think they’ll choose the martial arts master today?”

She was referring, of course, to the “Greenwood Gathering” that had been causing quite a stir in the city for the past few days. It was said that many extraordinary individuals had showcased their skills at the event. Several powerful generals from the city, along with Saint Duke Fang La himself, had attended as spectators. These days, the talk of the town revolved around these feats, and tales of someone’s impressive martial arts techniques were even more captivating than the usual discussions about poetry competitions among scholars.

Of course, poetry and literary gatherings were also taking place in the city. Many literary societies had been active, and several good poems and timely essays critiquing social ills had circulated. Some scholars who had not previously been selected for positions naturally hoped to secure an official post before the new dynasty officially took shape.

Teachers from Wenlie Academy also attended these poetry and literary gatherings, holding respectable positions. However, Ning Yi naturally chose not to go. The Overlord Blade Camp, for their part, did not restrict him. Firstly, Ning Yi's reputation in Hangzhou's literary circles had never been prominent. Secondly, his current status at Wenlie Academy was complex; no one dared to provoke him, yet he held no formal position. Any discussions about him remained within the academy, so his name ultimately did not spread. Furthermore, even if invited, he wouldn't get involved in such trivial matters at this time—his poetic talent was, in any case, fake, so he avoided it whenever possible.

Hearing Xiaochan speak of the gathering, Ning Yi raised an eyebrow slightly. “It’s the Vice-Alliance Leader of the Martial Arts World, not a mere martial arts master… Besides, they didn’t even invite your Master, known as the 'Bloody-Handed Butcher.' What kind of martial arts gathering is that? Just a bunch of peasants amusing themselves…”

Ning Yi’s usual joking tone was a mix of boredom and teasing, which made Xiaochan laugh. From behind the clothes hanging on the rope, she called out, “Then Master, why don’t you go? Didn’t Brother A Chang say you could?”

“Oh, but I heard at the medical hall that some people can breathe fire…” Xiaochan said with a hint of regret. “And there are even people who can do a hundred somersaults in a row…”

Ning Yi offered no comment on her notion of equating acrobats with martial arts masters. Of course, the girl wasn’t foolish; she was merely prattling on to amuse him. After finishing the laundry, she put the wooden basin back in her room and sat down beside Ning Yi, fanning herself with a cattail fan. As Ning Yi read, she would also look on, occasionally chatting with him. After a while, she lowered her voice and asked, “Master, I heard them say that you spoke about Elder Qian at the academy?”

Since his visit to Qian Xiwen, Ning Yi's surroundings had actually become much more relaxed. Perhaps it wasn't the visit to Elder Qian that initiated it, but rather after he spoke with that young man on the rooftop that day, the Overlord Blade Camp sent more clothes and various daily necessities. Consequently, their two-person world had generally become smoother. However, what Ning Yi had said about Qian Xiwen in class had indeed caused a stir in the academy, with many now believing Ning Yi had suicidal tendencies. Xiaochan, of course, knew about this and was asking now. She also knew that her master's mood had been somewhat affected that day.

Ning Yi looked at her, nodded, and then, while flipping through his book, said softly, “It’s nothing. You know what we did in Huzhou was significant. If someone wants to protect your master, it’s either because they're crazy or they think your master is useful—very useful, in fact. That Liu Dabiao… he’s a maverick, a madman who takes unconventional approaches. Being too conservative won't work, nor will simply being handsome… One has to do something a little outrageous for people to take notice of me. Besides, I truly want to do something for Elder Qian; I don't want his and his family's bones to remain buried indefinitely in a mass grave, impossible to retrieve later…”

Xiaochan nodded. In fact, while she seemed cheerful lately, she had been quite sensitive and worried about many things. Therefore, Ning Yi never held back from discussing anything he could with her. Speaking of the elder, the girl silently fanned herself. A moment later, she looked at Ning Yi and asked, “So, Master, telling those children about this, you mean… you really want to teach them well?”

“Why not?” Ning Yi said with a smile, glancing at her.

“But… they are, after all, after all…”

“Xiaochan, do you think… I’m on the imperial court’s side?”

Probably never having considered such things before, Xiaochan was startled by the question. In her heart, she still regarded Fang La’s army as rebels. After a moment of thought, she stammered, “But, but… Elder Qian wasn’t… wasn’t…”

“I respect Qian Xiwen because the elder had his own principles, and he upheld them admirably, regardless of which side he stood on. If I were to stand with the imperial court, would I align myself with corrupt civil officials and cowardly military officers? As for those bullies and scoundrels, those whom I consider beyond redemption—I wish them all dead, no matter which side they’re on. Xiaochan, I don’t stand with either side. People like Elder Qian make me feel they deserve to live. Everyone else, apart from you and your young mistress, my family—I wouldn’t care even if they all died.”

Ning Yi smiled. “Since I’m a teacher here now, I’ll do my duty as a teacher and teach them good things. Because they are just students, and if they learn, I’ll be happy. The world will become a little more interesting. Xiaochan, it’s like those officials we encountered when we were fleeing; I consider it a waste for them to occupy any space in my mind. They are like cockroaches; if I can stomp on them, I will. If not, I’ll just pretend I didn’t see them; they’re everywhere anyway.”

He shrugged. “Anyway, I neither dislike nor like them.”

After saying all this, he felt he had sounded a bit cold. But when he looked at Xiaochan, he saw her nodding, chin in hand, clearly not just going through the motions. Xiaochan’s thoughts were actually quite similar. As a mere maidservant, her world revolved around the small courtyard, her sisters and young mistress within it, and perhaps someday, the children she might have with her master. Things outside the courtyard held little meaning for her. Of course, she wasn't as open-minded as her master. She still harbored a grudge against the corrupt officials who had betrayed him, holding onto resentment and thinking it would be best if they were dead.

On that autumn afternoon, the atmosphere became somewhat leisurely amidst their casual conversation. The weather was turning cooler, and the wind was light, the clouds sparse. In such days, with the festivities outside, the various battles around Hangzhou seemed to have become distant memories. Although wounded soldiers occasionally arrived, staying within the academy walls meant days filled only with lectures, watching Confucian scholars sip tea, and quietly discussing academic matters no different from household gossip, or debating the latest lively events in Hangzhou. It truly felt like a peaceful and prosperous era, filled with song and dance.

Ning Yi knew he still had another hurdle to clear. No matter how leisurely his current life seemed, someone would eventually come to make arrangements for him. Living under someone else’s roof, one could only endure such circumstances. However, this particular hurdle came somewhat abruptly and passed rather strangely.

It was the morning of the third day after his casual chat with Xiaochan. After he finished teaching his class and was preparing to pack his things and collect his day’s pay, Headmaster Feng Yongli came to find him. With a complex expression, Feng Yongli told him that Liu Dabiao wanted to see him.

Ning Yi knew that the area around Wenlie Academy was essentially Liu Dabiao’s territory, controlled by the Overlord Blade Camp. The Overlord Blade Camp had previously been engaged in battle in Jiaxing, and it seemed they had finally returned. Ning Yi followed Feng Yongli out of the academy. Once on the road outside, he saw various tattered or blood-stained flags waving. Groups of soldiers seemed to have been disbanded nearby, and they were now heading home in twos and threes, shouting, laughing, and jostling one another.

The residence where Liu Dabiao was staying was on the street corner. Perhaps they had just arrived that morning, as the interior appeared disheveled. As Ning Yi entered through the gate, he saw platoons of soldiers running about, some arranging various items, others cleaning. After passing through several doors, Ning Yi was led into a relatively quiet courtyard. Two soldiers with swords on their backs opened the main door for him. A medicinal scent filled the room, and after he entered, the door closed behind him, plunging the surroundings into immediate dimness.

The room before him was quite large, resembling an emperor’s hall from a television show—though too small to be a grand throne room, it felt more like a modest hall rented due to budget constraints. The area about two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) in front of Ning Yi seemed somewhat empty. Further ahead, a sheer curtain was hung, and a side window beyond the curtain was open, letting in light that allowed Ning Yi to clearly see what was ahead.

It was a large bed, resembling a dragon throne, with a backrest and armrests, but no canopy framework; it was simply too large to be called anything but a bed. Through the sheer curtain, only the outline of the bed could be seen. Beside the massive bed were numerous peculiar items: tables, books, various bamboo slips, tripods, and incense burners. Incense burned in the burners, likely to subtly mask the medicinal smell. Propped against the outline of the large bed was a formidable greatblade. A figure sat there, squarely and steadily, appearing imposing as a silhouette next to the giant blade, yet their somewhat petite stature slightly softened the stern atmosphere.

By the incense burner at one side of the bed, another figure, likely a maidservant, stood, busying herself with something.

Inside the room, the three people settled, bringing a quiet atmosphere.

By this point, Ning Yi was completely certain that the person sitting opposite him was indeed the woman named Liu Xigua, whom he had seen during the ambush at Taiping Alley. After waiting for a while, the first words finally came from behind the curtain.

“I am Liu Dabiao.” The voice, half-affected scholarly elegance and half-feigned banditry, combined with its rough yet unmistakably feminine quality, sounded quite peculiar.

“Unpleasant voice…” When he recalled it much later, this was Ning Yi’s truly profound first impression of the young woman named Liu Xigua.