Chapter One: Descending the Mountain

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Chapter 1 – Leaving the Mountain

The mountains were clear and the waters bright, flowers scented the air, and birds sang their morning songs.

As the sun rose, a thin mist lingered over the landscape.

Halfway up the mountain, on a flat plateau, a young man dressed in plain clothes knelt solemnly before a solitary grave, bowing his head in reverence.

After bowing three times, he straightened up and spoke, “Master, I am leaving the mountain now. Take care of yourself here. I will come back to visit you often.”

With these words, he stood, picked up a small, dusty bundle from beside him, slung it over his shoulder, and turned to walk down the mountain.

The path was narrow and treacherous, but the young man moved slowly and steadily.

Suddenly, a crisp voice rang out from the bushes nearby, “Little Salted Fish, where are you going?”

He showed no surprise at hearing this voice. Without even looking up, he replied, “I’m going down the mountain.”

The voice asked, “Down the mountain? For what?”

“To seek the martial world.”

The girl’s voice pressed on, “The martial world? What will you do there?”

“Train and temper myself.”

“Training? Aren’t you afraid someone will eat up a little salted fish like you?” the girl teased.

Before her words faded, a flash of yellow shot from the bushes, landing before him.

She wore a yellow dress, her skirt fluttering. Her features were fresh and charming, like the first blossoms of spring; her eyes shone bright, as though the stars themselves were reflected in them.

The boy looked seriously at this girl who appeared every day and said, “Miss, I’ve told you before, my name is Xiao Xianyu, not Little Salted Fish.”

“And my master said, though the martial world is dangerous, with strength, there’s nothing to fear. Though I may be a little salted fish, I am not an ordinary one.”

The girl in yellow giggled, “I know your name is Xiao Xianyu. But why do you never ask mine?”

Xiao Xianyu glanced at her, a hint of apology in his tone, “Miss, what is your name?”

“Huang Ying’er. My name is Huang Ying’er,” she replied with a smile. “You can just call me Ying’er.”

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“Ying’er,” Xiao Xianyu said.

“See? You’re Fish, I’m Bird. Doesn’t that make us even?” She laughed.

The boy was momentarily speechless. Seeing him at a loss, the girl’s laughter grew triumphant.

He gazed at her, lingering for a moment on those autumn-water eyes, then said, “I’m going now. Thank you for coming to see me off.”

With that, he stepped around her and continued down the mountain.

She turned to watch his departing figure and suddenly called out, “Hey, Xiao Xianyu, when will you come back?”

He paused, looked back at her, and said, “I’ll return often.”

Huang Ying’er bit her lip, watching his slow but resolute steps. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt she might not see him for a long time, and her eyes grew a little misty.

She suddenly shouted, “Hey, Xiao Xianyu, you must take care of yourself!”

“Mm! I know!” Without turning, Xiao Xianyu waved his hand and disappeared around the bend.

The girl leapt lightly onto a tree, then bounded up to the highest branch.

She watched the boy below, hoping he would look back at her, but he did not.

Far on a distant peak, another solitary figure watched them, aloof from the world.

A breeze stirred the mountain mist, veiling that lonely silhouette, and when the fog cleared, it too had vanished.

…

Clad in coarse clothes, carrying a dusty bundle on his back and a black gourd at his waist, the youth ambled along the road, quietly reciting his master’s words: “If ever you leave the mountain, there are four words you must remember: speak little, observe much.”

Muttering to himself, he made his way along a country lane.

He had no set destination—the martial world was wherever he went. His master had said that once you left the mountain, you entered the rivers and lakes; wherever people gathered, there was the martial world.

It was a perilous realm, his master told him—be wary, trust no one too easily, and always keep your guard up.

Scenes of his master teaching him these lessons while passing on his skills drifted through his mind.

Yet, upon descending the mountain, the martial world the youth saw with his own eyes seemed nothing like what his master had described.

The roads he traveled were mostly muddy village tracks, and the people he met were sunburned farmers, their backs bent to the earth.

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Occasionally, someone would glance up at him, curious, but none approached to speak.

Still, the novelty of being newly down from the mountain made everything seem interesting to the boy.

He had left at dawn, and by midday reached the outskirts of a village.

Villagers, having worked all morning, shouldered their tools and returned home.

His lingering at the village entrance drew the attention of these simple folk.

A middle-aged man approached and asked, “Young man, where are you from?”

The boy thought for a moment, then smiled, “Mount Zixu.”

“Oh? Mount Zixu? That’s twenty or thirty miles from here, isn’t it? Are you here to visit relatives?” the man asked with another smile.

“No, I came down the mountain to train, as my master instructed, and happened to pass by. Uncle, could I trouble you for a drink of water?”

The man laughed heartily. “Of course! Come with me. You haven’t eaten, have you? Why not join us for a meal?”

Indeed, he hadn’t eaten. The boy nodded and said, “Thank you, uncle!”

“No need to be polite. Come along!” The man led him home.

On the way, he said, “At this hour, my wife will surely have lunch ready.”

But when they arrived, not a wisp of smoke rose from the chimney. The man called loudly but received no reply.

He frowned in puzzlement. “That lazy woman, where has she run off to?”

They pushed open the door and entered. The house was eerily quiet. The man called out several more times, and, getting no response, began to sense something was wrong.

He hurried into the inner room, and a moment later a cry rang out, “Wife, what’s wrong? What’s happened to you?”

Hearing the alarm, the boy’s eyes narrowed. In a flash, he too darted into the room.

There, he saw the man cradling a woman, shouting desperately. Her eyes were closed, her face sallow, as if she’d been unconscious for quite some time.

Without hesitation, the boy stepped forward, felt her pulse, and said, “Uncle, please step aside. I can cure this illness!”