xymnovel Chapter 15 Guard Song 6
Chapter 15 Guard Song 6
After everyone got to know each other, Fang Yingyu learned that Ruan Yichen and some of the wealthy young men he befriended were also martial arts practitioners. The trend of "the poor study literature, the rich practice martial arts" has been consistent throughout history. These young men came from wealthy families and had been taught by renowned masters since childhood. Every move they made had its origins, their skills were solid, and their abilities were not only on par with Fang Yingyu's, who had learned on her own in the mountains, but in some aspects, they were even more refined and proficient.
They often met to exchange skills and techniques, and after getting to know Fang Yingyu, she was also among those invited. For Fang Yingyu, this was an opportunity she had longed for. In the past, she had worked diligently behind closed doors, but ultimately, she was exploring on her own, like walking in the dark, unaware of her own limitations. Therefore, she gladly accepted Ruan Yichen's invitation.
On the training ground, Ruan Yichen, dressed in fine robes, stood with three scions of noble families, their swords gleaming coldly in the autumn sunlight. With a single gesture, their swordplay flowed like clouds and water, their flowing robes displaying exquisite variations that Fang Yingyu had never witnessed before.
"Brother Fang, don't just watch, why don't you have a match too!" Ruan Yichen laughed loudly.
Fang Yingyu nodded, her gaze calm: "Then I'll make a fool of myself!"
He tightened his faded coarse cloth belt and held the wooden knife horizontally in front of his chest. Others used swords, but he preferred a knife, so he made his own wooden knife—easy to carry and not against the law.
Before he could finish speaking, a young man in blue on the left, seeing that he was using a wooden sword against a steel sword, was annoyed by his arrogance and immediately lunged forward. The long sword sliced through the air like a serpent emerging from its hole, its angle tricky and ruthless, making it impossible to defend against. Fang Yingyu hastily raised her sword to parry, and with a clang, a deep sword mark was immediately left on the wooden sword.
"This is the Huashan Sect's 'Three Probing Snakes' technique," Ruan Yichen explained with a smile. "You've never seen it before, have you?"
Fang Yingyu shook his head, fine beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. These scions of noble families had been instructed by renowned masters since childhood, and their skills were far more refined than those of a poor boy like him who had learned on his own in the mountains. In just three rounds, the wooden sword in his hand had been cut in half by the fine steel longsword, and his tiger's mouth was numb and painful from the impact.
The guards near the training ground were also watching the spectacle. Among them was a guard named Song Liu, who leaned against the ancient ginkgo tree in the west corner, his expression indifferent. Hidden in the cracks of the mottled bark were the two characters "Canglang" that he had deeply carved with the tip of his knife many years ago.
The Canglang Sect—ten years ago, this name was renowned throughout the martial arts world, but overnight it was brutally wiped out, with the entire sect slaughtered, leaving only two disciples of the sect leader whose whereabouts remain unknown, becoming a mystery in the martial arts world whose truth is unknown to anyone.
At this moment, as Song Liu gazed at the gaunt figure in the arena, wielding a broken sword and stumbling as he parried, a bitter taste, like aged osmanthus wine, suddenly welled up in his throat—the boy's powerless defense with the broken sword was so much like his own back when he was expelled from the sect. He shook his head helplessly, a barely perceptible trace of pain flashing in his eyes.
The reason he paid special attention to this country boy named Fang Yingyu was because the eldest daughter of the Ruan family, Ruan Shanruo, had repeatedly come to him, pleading earnestly for him to take Fang Yingyu as her apprentice. That usually reserved young lady from a prominent family had actually lowered herself for this boy, repeatedly begging a head instructor of the guards.
Ruan Shanruo's decision to set aside her status as a pampered young lady and repeatedly plead with a head guard was not a spur-of-the-moment thing. From the first time she saw Song Liu in the manor, she knew that this man was no ordinary person.
That day, after the autumn rain had stopped, she happened to see Song Liu instructing several newly arrived guards in boxing under the eaves. While others practiced martial arts with powerful shouts and outward displays of strength, Song Liu remained as calm as a mountain. When still, he was like a pine tree with its roots intertwined, blending seamlessly with the rocks in the courtyard; but when in motion, he was like a dragon emerging from the abyss. Each move seemed simple and unadorned, yet it contained profound inner strength. The power exerted by every muscle was precise and seasoned, exuding the ruthless aura of a seasoned general. That was a demeanor far beyond that of ordinary guards, and a level of skill unattainable by ordinary martial arts practitioners.
Even now, concealing his brilliance and dressed in the same blue cloth outfit as the other guards, blending among the crowd, his composure, honed over the years and almost instinctive, was still clearly discernible to Ruan Shanruo's keen eyes, like a firefly in the dark. She was certain: this man could never have been an insignificant person before, and even if he was now content to be an "insignificant person," he was certainly an "insignificant person" capable of accomplishing great things and shouldering great responsibilities.
Although she didn't know why such a person would willingly remain in her household as an ordinary guard, earning a meager salary, she knew something else clearly—her father's several important business trips in recent years had all been escorted by Song Liu. No matter the dangers encountered along the way—whether by bandits blocking the road or inexplicably caught up in江湖 (jianghu, the martial arts world) conflicts—with Song Liu by his side, her father always managed to escape unscathed, returning safely each time without the slightest mishap. Her father had privately remarked, "With Song Liu around, I feel more at ease than if I were leading a hundred servants."
Ruan Shanruo knew that Fang Yingyu was a rough gem, lacking only a mentor who could turn it into gold. It was precisely Song Liu's unassuming strength and reassuring trust that made Ruan Shanruo feel that the mentor who could turn things into gold was right before her eyes.
"Master Song, Madam requests your presence in the front hall to finalize the guard arrangements for Master's trip to Hangzhou tomorrow." The servant's call abruptly rang out, jolting Song Liu awake from his deep reverie.
He subconsciously raised his hand, his broad palm pressing against his left chest through his coarse clothes. There, an old scar that had long since healed seemed to faintly evoke a lingering, tingling pain and chill when touched by his fingertips.
This scar was the final and most unforgettable "gift" left to him by his most respected second senior brother, Xie Chenghuan, on that bloody night ten years ago when the Canglang Sect was tragically destroyed. That knife not only pierced through flesh and blood, but also severed all his past and pride.
Once a direct disciple of the Canglang Sect, he single-handedly fought seven bandits in the mountains with a swift knife, becoming famous throughout Jiangxi. His youthful spirit was so exhilarating, filled with joy and vengeance. But now... He looked around. The Ruan family mansion had high walls and a grand courtyard, orderly and well-organized. He was just an ordinary guard in this vast mansion, patrolling, training, and protecting the people every day, earning a meager salary, blending into the crowd.
How ironic and helpless the twists and turns of fate are! Who could have imagined that the young hero who once pointed his blade and made bandits flee would willingly hide his identity, conceal his brilliance, and become an unknown "Master Song" in the courtyard of a merchant's family?
He took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his eyes, and regained his usual composure. He nodded slightly to the servant, his voice steady and even:
"Okay, I'll be right there."