Poetry Chants, Saber Howls – Chapter 3
by Little PandaA Startled Swan Glances Back Beneath the Blade; Meeting Unrecognized, Asking After a Name (Part 3)
Two ke1 passed. Xie Yuanjue finished her meal and only then began treating Tang Yiluo’s injuries.
Ling Suihan had no desire to look at her face again—lest she grow even angrier. She stood outside beneath the eaves, leaning against a pillar with her eyes closed in rest, simultaneously keeping watch over Peng Lie to eliminate any possibility of escape.
Doctor Yu’s mind had been in a muddle earlier; only now did he think through the entire sequence of events from beginning to end. He realized that this young woman with her peerless saber technique had come to his clinic primarily to capture that notorious outlaw. Far from being a villain, she was a chivalric heroine who upheld justice.
Besides, when the bandit had lunged at him earlier—if not for her blade, he would likely have been decapitated by now.
Doctor Yu screwed up his courage and approached Ling Suihan, thanking her for saving his life.
Ling Suihan kept her eyes closed, her tone indifferent. “If I hadn’t needed to capture him, he wouldn’t have tried to take you hostage. I naturally have a responsibility to protect you. No thanks are necessary.”
Doctor Yu remained deeply grateful and asked her surname.
She answered with a single word: “Ling.”
“Ling?” Doctor Yu was momentarily taken aback.
“What? Is something wrong?”
“N-no, nothing.” Doctor Yu gazed at her missing right arm for a moment, shook his head, and abruptly changed the subject. “Rest assured, Lady Ling. Doctor Xie’s medical skills are superb. She will have your friend healed in no time.”
Ling Suihan had already clarified that Tang Yiluo was not her friend, but Doctor Yu had been next door at the tavern buying food at the time and was unaware of this.
Ling Suihan couldn’t be bothered to explain further. But hearing him mention Xie Yuanjue, she finally opened her eyes and said thoughtfully, “Her surname really is Xie…”
Doctor Yu was puzzled by this. Xie Yuanjue had already introduced herself by name earlier—could it be that Lady Ling couldn’t remember her surname? But since his benefactor was asking, he naturally had to answer honestly. “That’s right, her surname is Xie. Her given name is Yuanjue—the ‘yuan’ as in ‘karmic destiny,’ and the ‘jue’ as in ‘awakening.'”
Ling Suihan shot him a glance. “Is her name really that important?”
Worth introducing character by character, again and again?
“Please don’t misunderstand, Lady Ling. Doctor Xie instructed me to do so,” Doctor Yu said. “She specifically told me that if anyone asked about her, I must state both her surname and given name in full detail.”
Ling Suihan found this peculiar. “How did you come to know her?”
Doctor Yu replied, “This humble one’s medical skills are decent enough, and I have some reputation in the area. So two days ago, when Doctor Xie arrived in this county, she spent half a day making inquiries. Upon learning that I was the most renowned physician in these parts, she came to challenge me to a medical contest.”
“You lost to her?”
“At first, I saw she was merely a young lady and dismissed her, not wanting to waste my time. But later…” Later, Xie Yuanjue had wagered silver and gold to entice him into competing, and though he lost the contest, she paid the wager in full regardless. He was naturally happy to do as she asked. This particular reason, Doctor Yu paused, too embarrassed to voice aloud, and simply said, “Later, I discovered that her medical skills were truly extraordinary—far superior to mine. So I promised her that whenever the opportunity arose, I would tell people about her name and her medical prowess.”
“So you don’t know her background, then.”
“I asked about her lineage. She said her master was a country doctor2—and even if she told me, I probably wouldn’t have heard of him.”
Ling Suihan fell silent for a moment, lowered her eyes, and asked no further questions.
There was no point. No matter what identity or background Xie Yuanjue possessed, it could have nothing to do with Shejia.
Shejia had been gentle and kindhearted, pure and good, with the softest, most tender heart imaginable—nothing like this woman, who was cold to the point of bloodlessness.
How laughable that the instant she had seen her, she had involuntarily been reminded of Shejia… It was an insult to Shejia’s memory.
At this thought, Ling Suihan couldn’t help but feel even greater aversion toward Xie Yuanjue. In truth, if their features hadn’t borne some resemblance, what kind of person Xie Yuanjue was would have had nothing to do with her. Even if the woman were the most heinous villain in existence, she wouldn’t have been this angry.
But why…
Ling Suihan tilted her head back to gaze at the distant white clouds, forcing herself to banish the thoughts from her mind. Barely a moment had passed before the door behind her creaked open. Xie Yuanjue stepped out in unhurried stride and said softly, “She is out of danger, but she won’t wake for a while yet. A half-day’s rest and she should be fine.”
Next, Xie Yuanjue had to treat Peng Lie’s injuries.
On the surface, Peng Lie’s wounds were several shallow cuts—less severe than Tang Yiluo’s. In reality, the force of the Nine Curves Palm had caused subtle damage to his internal meridians, making the treatment more complex. Xie Yuanjue first prepared a bowl of medicinal broth for him to drink, then administered acupuncture for half a shichen, had him drink a second bowl of medicine, and then taught him a breathing technique, instructing him to sit in meditation and circulate his qi for a while.
She was busy until dusk. By sunset, the silver needles at the various acupoints across Peng Lie’s body had turned pitch black. He gradually felt his internal true qi growing more abundant, flowing smoothly without the slightest obstruction. Wild with joy, he struck out with a palm—and sure enough, his martial prowess had fully returned.
“It seems you’ve finally healed his injury.”
Ling Suihan, having sensed the commotion from outside the room, walked straight in.
Peng Lie’s power was restored, and he was still reveling in it. Why would he fear her now? He laughed heartily. “Your martial arts are decent enough, but killing me is pure fantasy. You must have seen plenty of corpses on your way here, yes? If you don’t want to end up like them, leave now and we can still be friends. What just happened—consider it water under the bridge.”
Ling Suihan ignored him entirely, fixing her gaze on Xie Yuanjue instead. “If you insist on interfering, then don’t blame my blade for making an enemy of you.”
Beyond the window, the sky was a hazy expanse. Xie Yuanjue’s complexion was even paler than before—the thin sheen of perspiration on her forehead barely visible against her skin, unnoticed by anyone present. Her voice still carried that pleasant, cool detachment. “He is no longer my patient. Do as you wish with him.”
From their exchange, it seemed neither of them took him seriously. Peng Lie flew into a rage and was about to strike when he suddenly realized his weapon had been severed by the woman earlier. And she did possess genuine skill—fighting her bare-handed would be no easy feat. So he tried to provoke her instead:
“Fine, how could I nearly forget? You wanted to ambush me while I was gravely injured. Now that you see I no longer have a blade, you think you can get lucky against me? Very well. Since you’re so despicable and shameless, I won’t ask for fairness either. Come then—let’s have at it, just like this.”
Ling Suihan saw through his intent, but she was young and proud, and she fell for the provocation. Her expression darkened, frost settling over her features. “I’m hardly less honorable than you, who slaughtered mostly defenseless common folk.” Even as she spoke, she was untying her travel pack.
She had prepared thoroughly for a long journey, and her pack contained a spare ring-pommel saber.
“I’ll lend you a weapon. We’ll fight somewhere else.”
Peng Lie asked, “Where?”
Ling Suihan pointed at the courtyard outside.
It was a broad open space with an unobstructed view. The two of them walked outside, and Ling Suihan casually pulled the door shut behind her.
Locking Doctor Yu and the young medicine boy inside the room.
Xie Yuanjue pondered briefly, then proceeded to close all the surrounding windows, sealing the room off completely.
She left a single small window open and seated herself beside it, insulated from any stray blade-qi. The setting sun spilled across the earth like blood, staining Ling Suihan’s white robes crimson. Peng Lie was no gentleman—once he had a weapon in hand, he offered no courtesy. He unleashed “Fierce Tiger Climbs the Mountain” as his opening move, raising his saber and cleaving down toward the crown of Ling Suihan’s skull. Blade-qi engulfed her entire body in an instant, swift as thunder and lightning, terrifying in its force.
He was tall and powerfully built. In brute strength, Ling Suihan was no match for him. As for internal true qi, he reasoned that a woman so young couldn’t possibly have cultivated denser internal energy than his own. By all logic, the correct response to such a ferocious attack would be to dodge and weave, evade the strike, and circle behind the enemy to counterattack when they least expected it. Yet her feet didn’t move. She raised her saber horizontally to block—with a sharp clang, sparks flew in all directions. But Peng Lie felt an icy chill close in from every side, and for one frozen instant, the force behind his blade stalled. He couldn’t press the cut any further.
Peng Lie had trained in the saber for over thirty years and had some familiarity with every major blade style in the world, yet he couldn’t identify what technique she had just used. Startled, he relied on his rich combat experience to withdraw the strike smoothly, sweeping his blade in a diagonal slash toward Ling Suihan’s midsection.
The distance was too close—she didn’t have time to raise her saber to block as before. But she still didn’t dodge or retreat. Her left arm extended, and the blade flashed like a bolt of lightning. This time it was her turn to cleave straight at Peng Lie’s forehead.
It was a reckless, suicidal style of fighting. But her blade was simply too fast—either she sent Peng Lie to see Yama3 one step ahead of him, or they both perished together. Either outcome was unacceptable to Peng Lie. He didn’t dare trade his life so recklessly and was forced to retreat and evade. But Ling Suihan moved as though she had predicted his every motion. Her blade-shadow flickered past his eyes like a phantom, striking instantly at the position he had dodged into, the cold following like a shadow at his heels. Peng Lie suddenly felt his right shoulder burn as though on fire—the saber had already bitten into his shoulder.
Three moves.
He had lost.
If Ling Suihan’s pursuit of him hadn’t been about more than simply punishing evil—if she hadn’t been nursing a larger plan that required delivering Peng Lie alive to the authorities—killing him just now would have been effortless.
Peng Lie was stunned, and he couldn’t understand it. When she had struck, her blade-qi had been bitingly cold, like ice—he had assumed her martial arts followed a soft, yin path. So why, once the blade pierced his flesh, did the wound feel as though it were being seared by raging fire?
That hellish, torturous pain made him grit his teeth to keep from crying out—and naturally, he missed the flicker of restraint in Ling Suihan’s brow.
From inside the room, Xie Yuanjue watched the battle through the window. She couldn’t make out Ling Suihan’s expression clearly—only her martial arts had caught her curiosity. After a moment’s reflection, she slightly raised her voice. “The Avici Saber Technique?”
Peng Lie’s eyes went wide. His wound still burned viciously, and his heart plunged into an icy abyss.
—Avici Saber?
—The legendary Asura Ghost Saber, said to have been lost to the jianghu for ages?
Like the Nine Curves Palm, the Avici Saber was one of the most renowned and formidable martial disciplines in the jianghu—even more powerful than the former. And the more powerful the technique, the fewer those who could master it, and naturally, fewer still who had the fortune to witness it. That Xie Yuanjue, so young, possessed such discerning knowledge impressed even Ling Suihan.
Despite her aversion, she didn’t stint on praise. “Sharp eyes!” Then she raised an eyebrow, unable to mask her pride. “Can you heal the wound from this blade?”
Xie Yuanjue considered seriously for a moment, then said, “I can attempt it.”
Ling Suihan had been inexplicably poisoned by her earlier and was still rankled by it, itching to settle the score. Without a second thought, she replied, “Fine! I can keep waiting. Be my guest.”
Like a faint breeze rippling across water, a rare glimmer of eagerness flickered through Xie Yuanjue’s gaze—there and gone in an instant. She leaned against the small window with a hint of weariness. “But I don’t wish to attempt it now. Perhaps another day… Didn’t you want to take him away already? I won’t see you off.”
Ling Suihan was competitive by nature, and once her competitive spirit was roused, she was loath to let the matter drop. She was about to speak when she suddenly recalled her true purpose in capturing Peng Lie—something more important than anything else in the world. She sheathed her saber, sealed Peng Lie’s acupoints, reversed the blade, and struck the pommel against Peng Lie’s back, launching him bodily into the air to land sprawled across the horse’s back.
Leading her horse by the reins, she cast one final glance back at Xie Yuanjue’s face, then left the clinic.
Before a cup of tea’s time4 had passed, another woman’s silhouette appeared in the corridor. It was Tang Yiluo, who had been unconscious for some time, now stirring awake. Finding herself in an unfamiliar environment, she felt uneasy and rose to investigate. Doctor Yu, as the clinic’s proprietor, immediately explained the full sequence of events. Tang Yiluo listened, suddenly understood, and clasped her hands in a martial salute:
“Dingshan disciple Tang Yiluo thanks you all for saving my life.”
“Dingshan?” Xie Yuanjue, who had her back turned while packing her medical kit, whipped around the instant she heard those two words. “You are a disciple of the Dingshan Sect?”
Tang Yiluo nodded, visibly proud of her sect.
In all the jianghu, there was only one Dingshan Sect. Something stirred within Xie Yuanjue. She studied Tang Yiluo for a moment, then asked in a gentle voice, “I don’t see your fellow disciples. Did you come down the mountain alone? How did you sustain such severe injuries?”
The question was perfectly natural. Tang Yiluo sensed nothing amiss, but Doctor Yu was quite surprised. Xie Yuanjue had been at his clinic for two days now. In their everyday interactions, she was polite and proper, yet always exuded a distant aloofness that kept people at arm’s length. This was the first time he had heard her speak with such warmth—like spring ice melting beneath the sun.
“I… I didn’t come alone…” Tang Yiluo raised a hand to wipe the tears welling at the corners of her eyes. “I came down the mountain with two of my fellow disciples—a senior martial sister and a senior martial brother. Along the way, we met some friends from the jianghu who told us about the notorious outlaw Peng Lie’s brutality. We decided to join forces and rid the people of this menace. But… but that villain’s martial arts were truly formidable. So many of us couldn’t defeat him. My senior martial sister and brother, to protect me…”
Tang Yiluo’s Honored Master had died young. For this reason, the senior martial uncles and elder disciples of the Dingshan Sect doted on her deeply, doing everything in their power to keep her safe under all circumstances. The thought of this tore at Tang Yiluo’s heart. She couldn’t hold back her tears, sobbing until she couldn’t speak another word.
Such a scene would move even a complete stranger to compassion.
Yet Xie Yuanjue, who had just been speaking to her with such gentle warmth, upon seeing her expression of agonizing grief, merely collected herself and returned to her usual composure. She offered no consolation. She waited quietly until Tang Yiluo’s tears ran dry, then continued asking, “And then?”
Afterward, Peng Lie had also been gravely injured and had no time to check whether any survivors remained among the corpses. She had narrowly escaped with her life, secretly reasoning: she had heard that the only physician in this area with truly exceptional skill was Doctor Yu of Yongchun Hall in Changzhi County. If Peng Lie wanted to heal his internal injuries quickly, he would likely come here. So when she encountered Ling Suihan, she shared her deduction with her.
After hearing her account, Xie Yuanjue asked skeptically, “Are you saying she originally intended to leave you behind?”
Tang Yiluo silently confirmed this.
This puzzled Xie Yuanjue. Pursuing a fugitive and punishing evil were acts of chivalric justice. But if one possessed a chivalrous heart, why would they hesitate upon seeing someone at death’s door when they clearly had the power to save them? Could it be that her true motive in pursuing Peng Lie was merely the imperial bounty, and she resented Tang Yiluo for slowing her down?
“Doctor Xie, Doctor Yu.” Tang Yiluo suddenly spoke again, interrupting her thoughts. “I have no way to repay such great kindness. But the bodies of my senior martial sister, my senior martial brother, and the other friends from the jianghu are still exposed in the wilderness. I must first bring them back for proper burial and report this matter to our Sect Master.”
Xie Yuanjue said, “I’ll go with you.”
Tang Yiluo said, “Huh?”
Xie Yuanjue said, “From what you’ve said, there are six deceased. I’ll go with you and help.”
It was already dark. Changzhi County enforced a curfew, but it was not as strictly regulated as in Chang’an. Xie Yuanjue picked up her medical kit and rose to leave. Doctor Yu bid her farewell, then suddenly remembered something and called out to stop her.
Xie Yuanjue paused and looked back.
Doctor Yu said, “The young lady from earlier—her surname is Ling.”
Xie Yuanjue’s eyelashes quivered faintly.
Doctor Yu continued with a smile, “Though she’s probably not the person you’re looking for? That Lady Ling must have suffered some calamity in the past—such a pity, losing her right arm so young. But the young lady you’re searching for shouldn’t have…”
Xie Yuanjue nodded. “No, she wouldn’t be.”
Although Xie Yuanjue had already left Chang’an when the Ling family tragedy occurred, she had later written to her father and elder brothers to inquire. They all told her that after Ling Cheng was rescued by Su Ying, no one ever heard of their whereabouts again. If imperial soldiers had severed Fuli’s right arm, why wouldn’t they have claimed credit for it? Why would there be no mention of it at all?
More importantly, Fuli was generous and chivalric by nature, warmhearted and always eager to help those in need. If she encountered someone who needed her help, she would never hesitate for even an instant.
The author has something to say:
Shejia and Fuli are both childhood names—one means “rabbit” in Sanskrit, the other means “wolf” in Turkic.
However, “Fuli” actually has several other transliterations, such as “Fuli” (附离) and “Fuli” (拊离), but I think the characters 符离 look the best.
Also, the proper Sanskrit transliteration for “rabbit” should be “Shejia” (舍舍迦)—most ancient texts record it as 舍舍迦. Only one or perhaps two ancient texts write it as 舍迦 (I read it long ago and have forgotten which book; I just searched for ages and couldn’t find it, but I’m certain it exists). Although I suspect 舍迦 may be a copying error of some sort, two characters roll off the tongue more easily than three for a childhood name, so this story will use Shejia.
The flashback concludes with this chapter. The next chapter begins from the two female protagonists’ childhood.
Footnotes
- 刻 | kè | Traditional Chinese time unit equal to approximately fifteen minutes; two ke is roughly half an hour.
- 郎中 | lángzhōng | Traditional designation for practicing folk doctors and itinerant herbalists in imperial China, distinct from court physicians.
- 阎王 | Yánwáng | The King of Hell in Chinese Buddhist and folk religion, who presides over the afterlife and judgment of the dead.
- 一盏茶 | yī zhǎn chá | Colloquial traditional Chinese time measure denoting the brief span needed to drink a cup of tea, approximately ten to fifteen minutes.
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