Rising Phoenix

Translator: Aristophaneso

The red drop fell in the center of her brows, as if a beauty spot drawn by fate.

The motions were almost too quick to see, and Feng Zhiwei was still in shock. She did not understand what had happened, but a coldness filled her heart. In the next moment, she felt her body growing light and she was swept away.

Before anyone could react, the three figures disappeared, leaving a deathly silence in their wake.

Finally, a cold snort cleared the air. Ning Ji gasped in shock and worry, “Sixth Brother, you’re injured!”

The Jiu Cheng Commander rushed over in a fluster, but Ning Yi was expressionless. He stared in the direction where Feng Zhiwei had disappeared. He was no long on his horse, and his saddle was in a mess.

In that moment, when he had moved subconsciously to save her face and was striking that man, that shameful woman had done something to his saddle.

Obviously, she had mentioned the Da Yue horse intentionally and had wanted him to become lost in thought, and in that moment had attached a barb to his saddle. When he had left the saddle to stop that man, the barb and stabbed into his horse and jolted it into action. He had been unprepared and was slowed down by the motion, and not only had he failed to stop the man, he had also been slightly injured.

Did she know that man in the cyan? Had they worked together to injure him?

Ning Yi’s expressionless face grew cold. He ignored the commander’s concern and retrieved a silk handkerchief from the sleeve of his shirt and gently wiped away the blood from his hands. He let the handkerchief fall, and the flowers on the silk shivered in the wind.

He turned around and stepped the beautiful silk handkerchief into the mud.

The sunlight shone brightly through the falling dust, and his thin smile was frozen to his face.

Good. Good. You are very good.(1)

The coldness of the early spring night was not yet the piercing cold of winter, but Feng Zhiwei couldn’t tell the difference. All she knew was that the wind blew heavily against her and she was quickly turning into a frozen icicle.

She couldn’t lift her head and wasn’t able to look into the face of the man who had grabbed her. All she saw was the swaying of sky cyan clothes waving gently and evenly in the wind. Obviously, it was the man in the curtained hat who had tried to destroy her face.

The man’s choice of clothes was a little strange. Tian Sheng Dynasty was rich and prosperous, and it was popular for people to dress revealingly. A man showing his clavicles was considered beautiful, but this man wrapped himself up from head to toe. The curtain of his hat fell well below his shoulders, covering up all of his neck, and his cuffs were long and covered his fingertips, as if flaunting a casual disregard for the added difficulty to fighting.

His scent was also different. Where Ning Yi’s was a luxuriant flower blossoming on a snow plain, a mix of beauty and coldness, his scent was the smell of floating heart in water, subtle to the point of vanishing, but still leaving behind a clean and slightly acrid memory.

He held Feng Zhiwei with two fingers, and kept his other fingers close to his palm. His gesture displayed a clear reluctance to touch any part of Feng Zhiwei’s body.

Feng Zhiwei smiled wryly, guessing that this man was most probably a difficult person as well. The robed figure was clearly an extraordinary martial artist, but this man seemed a level higher. If she had known that this would happen, it would’ve been better to just go quietly to prison.

But I’ve never met this man before, so why did he grab me?

And then just as suddenly as this all started, she came to a sudden stop. The blood rushed to her head, and it was only when her eyes cleared up that she took a good look around. They had stopped in a wild field outside the city.

The man dropped her on the ground and sealed some of her acupuncture points, and then he stood straight, without another motion.

He stood silently and motionless. The cold moonlight was frost against the ground, and he reflected the translucent whiteness like a cold marble statue.

Feng Zhiwei examined him apprehensively, and she began to wonder if she had been captured by a storied ageless and deathless zombie of legend.

Fortunately, her Voice Acupuncture was not sealed, and so she ventured a cautious, “Hi….”

The man didn’t react, his head still facing forward. Feng Zhiwei didn’t give up, and she called out again: “Hi…. hero…”

The man replied into the empty air in front of him: “Hi, hero.”

“…”

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?”

“…”

“My name is Wei Zhi…”

“…My name is Wei Zhi.”

“…”

Feng Zhiwei couldn’t continue, and her face darkened – was the man an echo? Or was he really a zombie? A beautiful zombie incapable of conversation?

The man stood calmly, as if unhurriedly pondering something, but then as if he remembered something, he shook his head.

This was the first time he gave Feng Zhiwei any impression that he was a normal human, and it stirred hope in her heart. She changed the subject and asked: “Hero, we are not enemies, why did you grab me?”

Finally the man answered in a more normal fashion: “Catch person.”

…. What did that mean?

“Catch who?”

“Person.”

Feng Zhiwei’s face greened – of course I know I am a person!

She changed her question: “The person you needed to catch, is it me?”

The man tilted his head and the moonlight shone through the silk curtain of his hat, illuminating his bright and peaceful eyes. They were as clean jade, calm and tranquil.

“Catch person in the yard.”

Feng Zhiwei stared blankly, and after a careful moment asked: “Just a person in the yard? But there were many people in the yard.”

The man thought for a moment before answering slowly, methodical word followed by methodical word, all delivered in a flat tone. His eyes looked at the ground straight ahead, as if he were mentally impaired, but Feng Zhiwei knew the how rare it was for a mentally handicapped person to achieve such aptitude in martial arts.

He answered: “They said, catch person in the yard.”

Feng Zhiwei couldn’t help but gape at him. The most probable explanation was that this man had been ordered to go and catch the robed person, and that robed figure always lived alone, so this bean pole was only told to catch a person inside the yard, and no one had thought that she would charge forward just as the robed person broke free from his grasp, so he conveniently grabbed her in the passing.

What terrible luck!

But it couldn’t be so simple! Ning Yi was also there, why wasn’t he grabbed instead?

She asked her question, but the words seemed beyond him. Under the cold moon, the man became a jade statue again and no longer answered.

The cold wind hissed, and the moon watched tranquilly over the night. One sitting and the other standing, large eyes staring into small — oh, it was large eyes staring into a veil.