Ink Blade Chapter 23 (Part 2)
Translated by Sylver
Yangming Mountain (part 2)
Sure enough, the little guard raised his face and said calmly, "This subordinate dare not, but if punished, this subordinate will not be able to use his strength. The swordsmanship used by those people is the method of the Xuyang Sword Sect. This subordinate wants to go get it back first, and then go back to the palace to receive the punishment."
Suddenly, Chu Yan felt that this little thing was simply unreasonable. He kicked it over and cursed loudly, "You still want to get it back!??"
Mo Ren was kicked to the ground and then crawled back silently. This time, the young master’s kick didn't hurt at all, he knelt straight without expression, and said, "This subordinate lost the Master's things, how can this subordinate not reclaim it."
Chu Yan looked at him firmly, "You will die."
Mo Ren said: "Secret guards are not afraid of death."
Chu Yan's gaze flickered with bursts of sparks, and he bit down every word, "You treat yourself as a dead person, do you also consider your master dead?"
Mo Ren raised his head and said, "This subordinate dare not."
He then quickly added another sentence, "This subordinate doesn't understand."
He looked up at Chu Yan. In those calm and unwavering eyes, there, it was written brightly: ‘Master, please speak human words.’
…..Mo Ren, which was not yet broken, was like this. When facing Chu Yan, although the etiquette was all there on the face, all his emotions were clearly written in those calm and clear eyes.
Chu Yan was originally very angry, but at this time, thought that if things develop to the extreme, they would turn in the opposite direction, thus he laughed angrily instead.
He simply lifted up his robe, half-knelt down, and looked at Mo Ren horizontally, his words were strict, but his tone was not harsh. "Listen, this Young Master will give you five days."
He brushed his fingers over the young guard's pale face due to blood loss, and wiped away the little blood from the corner of Mo Ren's lips. Then he took off the robe, tossed it casually, and covered the top of the person's hair.
"Five days, heal your injuries and follow me to the Xuyang Sword Sect."
"I'll take the head of the person who bullied you and step on it for you to see."
****
Five days later, Chu Yan really took Mo Ren to the Xuyang Sword Sect.
Xuyang Sword Sect was located in Yangming Mountain. The mountain was high and steep, the forest branches were sparse and thin, and little spring buds had just emerged.
Chu Yan led two fine steeds out from the Jiuzhong Palace, one for him and one for Mo Ren, and rode all the way to the foot of the mountain.
He got off his horse, casually tied the reins to a tree trunk, took off the Xuanhong sword hanging from the saddle, and was about to walk up the mountain path.
Mo Ren panicked, he didn't expect Chu Yan to actually do it for real.
He knew that the young master was in an awkward position in the palace, and he was afraid that Chu Yan's impulsiveness would ruin it. In his panic, he forgot the rules and tugged at the corner of Chu Yan's sleeve, and whispered, "Master cannot do this!"
Chu Yan ignored it, and Mo Ren pleaded even more quietly, "Master, let's forget about this matter, okay?"
At the end of the mountain road in the distance, there was a figure of a Xuyang disciple. Perhaps noticing a trace of unusual killing intent, the disciple shouted “Guests, please stop and report your family’s intention”.
Chu Yan finally opened his lips, and said coldly to Mo Ren, "Shut up, good-for-nothing."
Then he drew his sword out of its sheath and fought all the way up.
That year, Chu Yan was only fifteen years old; Mo Ren was even younger, only thirteen years old.
That was precisely the most frivolous age, the young man of Jianghu was not afraid of heaven, earth, ghosts and gods. The chilly spring breeze was suddenly warm and cold, the sword ray was like a coiling fire, and the pride and unparalleled vigor burned through the coldness.
It was a battle that was destined to leave a name in Jianghu. Chu Yan was originally a phoenix-like majestic heaven’s pride, and he would amaze the world with a single brilliant feat and shock the world. The eighteen personal disciples of Xuyang Sword Sect were all defeated by a fifteen-year-old boy like him, humiliated to the extreme and broke their swords one by one.
And the last personal disciple named Yan Luo was the leader who led the masked people down the mountain to rob the goods.
Those goods were originally three rare treasure swords, which were paid tribute to the Jiuzhong Palace by a small sect.
This Yan Luo was the most talented disciple of the Xuyang Sword Sect at the moment and was proudly equipped himself with the stolen treasured sword. In a moment of heartbeat, he did such a thing, only to unexpectedly kick an iron plate.
In the sword wind that destroyed the leaves and snow, Chu Yan and Yan Luo fought for hundreds of rounds, and finally the sword that Yan Luo had just obtained was cut into three pieces by Xuanhong.
Chu Yan showed no mercy to those that did wrong and really stepped on Yan Luo's handsome face with his boots, making his bones creak along with the unmelted frozen snow under his face.
Mo Ren stared blankly not far away.
He looked at Chu Yan's black clothes and cold sword, with a few strands of long hair scattered over his shoulders in the chaotic battle, his whole body seemed to be shrouded in an invincible radiance, like the sun and the moon.
He watched Chu Yan turn his head, the corner of his lips curled up, and he smiled at him with raised eyebrows.
This time, the sect head of Xuyang was forced to come forward in person in the end, and made a formal apology which counted as giving up.
Chu Yan didn't talk too much either, and didn't take a look at Yan Luo behind him, who was as decadent as a person resigned to fate. He led Mo Ren down Yangming Mountain, and no one dared to stop him all the way.
On the way back, Chu Yan whipped his horse and laughed happily.
Mo Ren quietly peeked sideways. At that time, his master's brilliant eyebrows and eyes were like a carving knife, which pierced through the bottom of his heart.
...It was nevertheless the most spotless white jade, throughout the years without even a single crack.
