It was already late in the night. Fan Xian stood alone by the sword pit, looking at the densely packed swords in the pit that were like rice and also like the tips of trees piercing into the sky in a daze. He was standing exactly where Thirteenth Wang had been standing earlier. When he was having his final conversation with Sigu Jian in the inner room, he had faintly heard Thirteenth Wang's silent sobbing. The sobbing was silent, but there was still sound.
At the time, there was no one else in the depths of the Sword Hut. Sigu Jian and Fan Xian's discussion was too important. Even the sword boy had been driven far away, leaving only Thirteenth Wang to stand guard outside the room. Fan Xian understood that Sigu Jian was using this to express his attitude. He trusted his last disciple, and Fan Xian also trusted Thirteenth Wang. Dongyi's future depended on the cooperation between Thirteenth Wang and Fan Xian. Sigu Jian wanted Thirteenth Wang to understand more things from this conversation. Fan Xian also hoped that Thirteenth Wang would be able to comprehend something different from the Tyrannical martial method he had dictated.
This was a silent and tacit mutual reference. However, Thirteenth Wang had sunk into a gloomy mood and could not pull himself out. No one knew how much he had heard or understood.
The disciples of the Sword Hut silently filed into the room. Fan Xian would not go in again. He was not arrogant enough to think that Sigu Jian would actually treat him as the most important and closest young person in the world just because of his mother's relationship and a few meetings. He would be willing to stay with a Qing official before he died.
When a Great Grandmaster was about to die, he would be willing to stay with the 13 disciples he had raised with his own hands.
Sigu Jian should be in the room making arrangements for his funeral. Many of these funeral matters were related to Fan Xian or matters that Dongyi had to cooperate with Fan Xian. It was not convenient for Fan Xian to eavesdrop. He sighed and walked toward the outside of the Sword Hut.
He didn't know if Sigu Jian's final order could suppress Yun Zhilan's backlash. Fan Xian had no way to confirm this matter.
Walking out of the Sword Hut, the subordinates of the Overwatch Council and Dongyi's officials came forward to greet him. They all had different kinds of heavy expressions. Fan Xian shook his head. Accompanied by everyone, he walked toward the mountain residence.
What was he waiting for? Waiting for the fall of a master of a generation, waiting for a Great Grandmaster to leave this world? Waiting for a meteor to fall from the sky? Fan Xian sat on the chair and rested his chin on his hand as he thought quietly. Around the Sword Hut, the chirping of insects gradually rose, and the croaking of frogs had already begun. There was a cool breeze and a bright moon. In the distance, the sea breeze was slightly damp and salty, making the shadows of the moon blur.
At this moment, he was sitting in the garden near the cliff of the mountain residence. Separated by the stone gate, he looked at the grass hut not far away from his feet. He let the moonlight shine on his body, adding a bit of coldness that did not match the season. The faint light in the depths of the grass hut continued to shine. It was as if it was going to shine forever. Sigu Jian, on his deathbed, should still be giving his final instructions to his disciples. No one knew if there would be any disputes or strange movements in the hut.
The 13 disciples of the Sword Hut worshiped Sigu Jian from the bottom of their hearts. Presumably, no one would dare to betray their teacher. What about Yun Zhilan?
Fan Xian narrowed his eyes and looked at the faint light in the depths of the grass. Suddenly, he raised his head and glanced at the moon. Looking at the moon drawing a long arc in the sky, only then did he realize that a number of hours had already passed since he had sat and waited in the mountain residence. The night was already so deep that it could no longer be pulled back.
When he turned his head, he saw that in the flower garden halfway up the mountain residence, the wind moved the petals. A Shadow followed the angle of the moonlight and quietly came to his side.
Fan Xian quietly asked, "Your injury has healed? Why didn't you stay in Jiangnan? Why did you insist on coming back? "
The Shadow stood in the shadow of the stone gate. His eyes gazed indifferently at the grass hut at the foot of the mountain. "No one knows I've returned."
Fan Xian had long been worried that the Emperor would develop suspicion and murderous intent toward Chen Pingping because of the Shadow's relationship with Sigu Jian. Thus, he had forcefully sent the Shadow back to Jiangnan. He had not thought that the Shadow would suddenly appear in Dongyi. Without needing to think too much, Fan Xian knew why the Shadow had come. He sighed and said, "Do you still hate him?"
The Shadow was silent for a moment and then said, "Hate. However, when the sword pierced his chest, much of the hatred had already been vented. "
"There are some things I still don't understand." The Shadow looked at the faint light in the grass hut and said, "Even if father was indifferent to him, mother was harsh to him, and everyone in the manor humiliated him, they were, after all, his family. Why did he kill them all? What about me? I was the only person in the manor who saw him as an elder brother. Why did he kill me as well? "
Fan Xian gazed at him and said, "You didn't die, did you?"
The Shadow's body shook slightly. It was clear that his injury had not healed. The injury in his body made his state of mind not as valiant as it was at its peak.
"He's going to die."
"Everyone has to die." Fan Xian sat under the stone gate and gently patted the rough stone surface. "For your elder brother to be able to live for so long is already inexplicably astonishing."
…
…
The light in the depths of the Grass Sword Hut was very dim. It was as if it could go out at any moment. The thin and weak Sigu Jian had already sat up from under the blankets. He had washed his face and combed his hair again. A might that no one dared to look directly at rose again on his cold face.
The first disciple of the Sword Hut, Yun Zhilan, held his teacher's arm and helped him sit properly on the bed. Thirteenth Wang brought the water basin outside and poured the dirty water into the holy land's sword pit. He then returned to the room to help his eldest brother support his teacher. Of the 13 disciples of the Sword Hut, other than the first disciple and youngest disciple by Sigu Jian's side, the other 11 disciples all knelt in front of the bed with sorrowful expressions. Occasionally, traces of wetness appeared at the corners of some of their eyes.
Sigu Jian used a clear and cold gaze to stare at the Third and Fourth disciples. He did not specifically instruct them on that matter. In a quiet voice, he asked, "Do you remember what I said earlier?"
The disciples of the Sword Hut kowtowed and replied, "We will follow teacher's orders."
Just like that, the affairs of Dongyi were settled. Although the disciples of the Sword Hut had long guessed their teacher's intentions from the movements of these few months, they had not thought that their teacher would place such a large bet on Fan Xian and give him such complete support. Although there was confusion, sorrow, and fear in the hearts of the disciples, no one dared to raise any objections in front of their teacher.
Even Yun Zhilan maintained his silence.
Sigu Jian spoke more and more slowly. The emotions on his face grew fainter and fainter. He looked more and more like the Great Grandmaster who had not been injured and did not show his emotions on the outside. Yun Zhilan supported his teacher at the side. His heart was empty. He knew this was the final radiance of a setting sun. A sense of sorrow that was difficult to suppress began to spread through the room.
Perhaps Thirteenth Wang had already cried enough earlier, but he was unusually calm now.
"What time is it?" Sigu Jian took two deep breaths and asked quietly in a raspy voice.
"It's almost daybreak," Yun Zhilan replied respectfully and warmly to the side. The passing of Dongyi's last words took up an entire night. No one knew what other plans Sigu Jian had laid down after he sent Dongyi away with both hands.
"No matter what you do, once you make up your mind to do it, you have to do it to the extreme. Just like in the future of the Sword Hut, since I have chosen him, you have to help him to the extreme. Since it is a large gamble, you have to put all of your capital into it. Any self-reflection or hesitation is a pain that Dongyi will find difficult to endure. Do you understand? "
Sigu Jian sat on the bed. His gaze slowly swept across the disciples on the ground and finally landed on Yun Zhilan's face.
Yun Zhilan was silent for a long time and then nodded.
Sigu Jian gave a rare smile. He understood his eldest disciple too well. As long as he had promised something, he would carry it out.
"Help me up the mountain to have a look. The sky is about to brighten. I want to have a look." An inauspicious croaking suddenly rang out from Sigu Jian's chest. It sounded like the sound of a netherworld spring calling for water under the yellow earth. The Great Grandmaster's face also began to show a strange whiteness.
Yun Zhilan's heart ached. He held tightly to his teacher's withered arm. On the other side, Thirteenth Wang also held Sigu Jian's other arm. The two disciples met each other's eyes and carefully helped Sigu Jian down from the bed.
The second disciple of the Sword Hut kneeling at the very front of the bed moved forward on his knees. Using the fastest speed, he held Sigu Jian's feet and helped him put on his tattered straw sandals. However, Sigu Jian had been bedridden for more than a month. The poison and injuries had all broken out. His feet had long swollen. Putting on the straw sandals, it was possible to see the swollen areas where the straps of the straw sandals had tightened the swollen areas into lumps.
Sigu Jian didn't seem to feel anything. He only let out a comfortable sigh. The second disciple knew that his teacher's feet were already numb. He gently stroked his feet and his tears fell onto the stone floor in front of the bed.
…
…
The moon was like a hook, gradually disappearing into the slightly gray horizon. Most of the sky above Dongyi was still pitch-black and deep blue. Only the eastern side showed the white of a fish belly. Fan Xian, who had sat by the stone door for an entire night, felt tired. He rubbed his temples and told himself not to fall asleep. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and abruptly rose. He watched as the light in the depths of the grass hut suddenly went out. He knew that Dongyi's funeral arrangements had been made. Immediately after, he saw a scene that would be deeply engraved in his heart for many years to come.
In the distance, the thin and short Sigu Jian walked out of the grass hut with the support of Yun Zhilan and Thirteenth Wang and the protection of all the disciples of the Sword Hut. Following the path of the grass hut, he walked with great difficulty, silence, and even solemnity toward the mountain behind the Sword Hut.
The Shadow stood behind Fan Xian and also saw this scene. He was silent and didn't speak.
Faintly, he seemed to be able to see Sigu Jian, at the end of his life, glance back as he was being supported up the mountain by his disciples. That glance landed on the stone door of the mountain residence. It was unknown whether he was looking at Fan Xian, who held Dongyi's future in his hands, or his younger brother, the Shadow, who represented Dongyi's childhood memories.
Fan Xian and the Shadow stood silently at the mountain door and watched as the group advanced toward the top of the mountain. The two of them stood ramrod straight, perhaps to express their respect for this Great Grandmaster. They had to stand to send him off. Their eyes were level and there was no other emotion mixed in.
The Great Grandmaster's body was thin and short. With Yun Zhilan and Thirteenth Wang's support, he was almost invisible. The hemp clothing on his body floated in the morning wind. His feet, wearing straw sandals, did not touch the ground at all.
The mountain behind the grass hut was not tall. It was an entire mountain from where Fan Xian and the Shadow were. It was not far. In a moment, the people of the Sword Hut had climbed to the top of the mountain.
The rising sun on the eastern sea leaped out of the serene coastline and climbed up.
Fan Xian narrowed his eyes and watched as the first ray of light in the world passed through the surface of the sea, the private residences in Dongyi, the aura of the mortal world, and the gaps in the trees. It shone on the small mountain behind the grass hut, on the bodies of the disciples of the Dongyi Sword Hut, and on the face of the thin Great Grandmaster at the very front.
A faint golden light immediately rose to the Great Grandmaster's face. Although he was at the end of his life and his body was weak and small, he suddenly towered above all life. This was not the aura of sword intent. It was the feeling of this person's existence.
Fan Xian glanced toward the top of the mountain. Among the crowd, he was the only one he could see.
…
…
Sigu Jian stood calmly by the edge of the cliff and allowed the warm and familiar sunlight to hit him from the other side of the sea. He narrowed his eyes slightly and sniffed the air of Dongyi and the aura of this place. He was silent and didn't say a word. No one knew what he was thinking. No one knew if, in the moment of his death, the history of the past and everything in the past had become a number of images in the Great Grandmaster's mind. Following the golden light of the rising sun, they changed endlessly in front of his eyes.
The ants under the tree, the friend covered in black cloth, his brother, the rain, the dead man, the burning of the manor, the sword, the sword pit, the tattered cloth and trash in the pit, his disciple, his disciple, and more disciples. Another sword, a large sword, a heavenly sword. One sword swept across the world. One sword protected the mighty city. The city was not broken. The sword was not broken.
Sigu Jian blinked his listless eyes and cleanly dispelled the illusion of the rising sun. He tried his best to stand higher and see further. He wanted to see what was real. However, his legs had no strength. His gaze was also blurry.
Yun Zhilan and Thirteenth Wang sensed their teacher's thoughts and quickly helped him up.
Sigu Jian suddenly felt his gaze become clear. He saw the Dongyi he had protected for decades. He saw the smoke rising from the chimneys in the city. He saw the busy merchants setting up the morning market. He saw the wealth flowing through the city's marketplace. He saw the people's happy smiles.
In the moment of his death, he suddenly felt that he didn't want to see these things. He turned his head slightly and saw the grass hut he had lived in for many years. Many years ago, it was actually just a broken grass hut. He had lived there for a long time, killed many people, and taught many people. He was very proud.
Finally, Sigu Jian saw the large tree outside Dongyi. Under the rising sun, this large tree, which had experienced countless storms on the East Sea, still grew healthily and wildly. It protected the people, travelers, merchants, and commoners who passed by under the tree.
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