“That would be good,” Wu Ying said.
Zhong Shei smiled and reached out to the railing, making a small pile of books appear before adding a familiar sword.
“I almost forgot about that.” Wu Ying swept the books up into his own storage ring. He took the sword and tugged on the weapon, realizing only then that it was stuck tight. “Damn. Cleaning the blood out is going to be troublesome.”
“Well, let’s see it. We lied to the guards to keep this,” Zhong Shei said impatiently.
Wu Ying chuckled and used more force to pull out the stuck weapon. The pair marveled at the weapon. If nothing else, they could safely say that Ji Ang had had good taste in jians. This one was slightly longer the weapon Wu Ying wielded, and a touch thinner too. Instead of the common diamond-shaped edges, the sword was actually made with an octagonal-edged pattern to increase its thickness and strength. All across the blade, a waterfall pattern could be seen—the mark of a highly skilled forging process.
“Wǒ kào[26].”
Wu Ying could only nod as he got a good look at the sword. He knew, from the fight, that the weapon was good—amazing even. But this, this was far above what he had expected. This was the kind of weapon that sat behind the counter, out of reach of the grubby hands looking to grasp it. This was the kind of weapon that could start fights—or end them.
Wu Ying looked back to where the sailors moved around on the deck, and he quickly slid the sword into the scabbard and made the entire thing disappear. At first Zhong Shei was startled, but seeing the worried look in Wu Ying’s eyes as he stared at the others, he nodded.
“I’m tired. I want to sleep in some place quiet. How about you?” Zhong Shei said artfully.
“A good idea.”
The pair ambled down the stairs, doing their best to look inconspicuous until they reached their cabins. Zhong Shei gestured to his, and Wu Ying nodded. Inside the tiny room, Zhong Shei held up a hand, quickly inspecting the passageway before he slid the door shut firmly and nodded.
Once again, the sword made an appearance, and the pair carefully inspected and marveled over it. In silence, the pair pored over the sword, checking its fittings and the scabbard itself. Yet no matter how they looked, the sword was as expensive and lethal as it seemed on first viewing. With their inexperienced eyes, they could not find a single flaw. Wu Ying pointed at a small mark near the handle on the blade, drawing Zhong Shei’s attention to it.
“I don’t recognize it,” Zhong Shei said.
“Neither do I,” Wu Ying agreed with a sigh, the worm of dread that had coiled around his intestines at his first realisation of what they held had grown even bigger, fed by the nightmares of what-if. “I was hoping it was something you’d seen in the city.”
“I never paid attention,” Zhong Shei admitted. “But I don’t think it’s anyone in town. No one does this level of work. Even I’d know that.”
“So what do we do?” Wu Ying said. “This isn’t something Ji Ang would just have. He must have taken it off someone. Someone important.”
“Well, no one knows we have it.” At Wu Ying’s flat, incredulous look, Zhong Shei snorted. “Fine. We’re the best suspects. But I don’t want to give this up…”
“Neither do I,” Wu Ying said then blinked, realizing another problem.
Zhong Shei realized it at the same time, and the pair stared at each other in concern. There was only one jian after all—and both of them desired the weapon.
The standoff was broken by Zhong Shei, who reached out with two fingers and pushed the sword toward Wu Ying. “You killed him. It’s yours.”
“I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t distracted him. It was your idea to go in too. And you got injured,” Wu Ying said and pushed it back.
“I can’t take it. It’s too much,” Zhong Shei said, shaking his head.
“You think I can? That sword is worth more than the entire harvest of my family’s farm since I was born! I couldn’t even sleep holding on to that.”
“You really have messed up expectations of the kind of life those richer than you have,” Zhong Shei said, shaking his head and tapping on the sheathed blade. “This is so far out of my experience that I might as well be you.”
“We’re both impressed. But you should still take it. I already took the money. You deserve something from him.” As Zhong Shei opened his mouth to protest, Wu Ying continued. “And whatever you think, I’m still just a peasant. An outer sect member peasant, but a peasant. If the owner—or whoever wants the sword—comes, you’ll have a better chance of talking them down from killing you outright.”
“You think I should give it to them?” Zhong Shei said, his eyes widening.
“If it’s between your life and the sword? Definitely.”
Wu Ying’s eyes widened when Zhong Shei looked like he actually had to think about it. As much as the guardsman thought their differences were not that great, at times like this, Wu Ying knew the differences were as large as heaven and earth. No farmer would value a thing over his life. The weather, the government, the army—they all took from the common people every day. But so long as their lives and their dignity were intact, everything else could be recovered.
“Maybe I should keep this,” Wu Ying said as he saw Zhong Shei’s continued reluctance to do the smart thing.
“No.” Zhong Shei snatched the sword, making it disappear into his storage ring. “I’ll give it up. I promise. But I’ll take it.”
“Good.” Wu Ying could not help but feel a little heartache at giving the weapon away. But at his strength, a weapon of that value was more calamity than fortune. He did not have the strength to wield it, not in public. And if he could not use it, then what was the point? A horse left to graze all year round was not a horse; it was a useless egg. “Good. I’ll be going to cultivate now.”
“I will too,” Zhong Shei said, seemingly motivated by Wu Ying’s words. When Wu Ying had exited the room, just before closing the door, Zhong Shei called, “Thank you. Brother.”
Wu Ying looked back at Zhong Shei and nodded. The motion made Zhong Shei grin before he closed the door, leaving Wu Ying to head into his room to cultivate. In a corner of his mind, Wu Ying wondered if Zhong Shei would actually cultivate.
Probably. Nearly dying from being too lazy had a great motivational effect. Wryly smiling, Wu Ying took a seat on his bed and closed his eyes.
Very motivational.
Chapter 19
“Is this it? The Verdant Green Waters Sect?” Zhong Shei asked Wu Ying.
Wu Ying almost rolled his eyes but finally deigned to nod. As if there was anywhere else for the boat to go, never mind the fact that Zhong Shei had asked that question but a few hours ago.
Still, Wu Ying pushed away the irritation. It had little to do with Zhong Shei and mostly revolved around his own uncertainty. He had been away so long—nearly a month and a half after all the delays, waits, and fights. And even if the mission had no stated time limit, Wu Ying could not help but remember that Elder Mo had not exactly assigned the entire quest with the purpose of being fair.
“Glad to be home?” Zhong Shei asked.
“This isn’t my home,” Wu Ying corrected the man automatically. “But it’ll be good to have the mission completed.” Wu Ying absently patted the bag on his back. Rather than flaunt his newfound wealth, Wu Ying had moved the bottles and his everyday wear into the bag for now. The rest of the precious gifts—expensive clothing, wines, a couple of decent jian, and a dao—and the majority of his funds sat in his storage ring. “What are your plans after your delivery?”
“Well, I was hoping to see the sect a bit. I hear the sect women are to die for.”