亚洲色一区二区三区四区

Chapter 66

And very green.

Dew drops glistened on the blades under the sunlight.

Like the sparkling eyes of Little Jiang Yu.

For Meng Shaoxia was about to depart, yet he even brought her a box of sweets.

Meng Shaoxia unsheathed his sword from his waist, cradled it with both hands, and presented it to Jiang Feng.

"This sword is named Morning Sun, bestowed by my grandfather. It has seen battle and blood, but only against those deserving of death. Jiang, upon our first meeting I felt an instant kinship with you, and wish to gift you this treasured blade."

Meng Shaoxia held out the sword.

Jiang Feng was moved.

He was accustomed to the ways of the commoners, appearing honest on the outside, but not truly simple.

His words and actions were more a subconscious rule for survival.

But this squarely-jawed, noble youth from the capital before him was one of the few truly sincere people he had ever met.

"No, no, no, I am unworthy of such a fine sword. It would be wasted on me," Jiang Feng hurriedly declined.

In truth, he had no desire for Meng\'s sword.

At most, he had coveted the swords worn by the guards, which already seemed grand to him.

The sword before him had an unadorned scabbard, with a simple floral pattern carved into it.

The hilt was well-polished, showing signs of frequent use - this was no mere ornament.

The most striking feature was the jade pommel at the end of the grip, its white slowly transitioning into a deep, bloody crimson.

Brilliant scarlet.

Its name was Morning Sun.

Meng Shaoxia insisted on thrusting the sword into Jiang Feng\'s embrace.

"You are worthy. A heroic blade for a valiant man. In days to come, from the distant capital, I shall surely hear Jiang Feng of Qingyuan Mountain\'s name resounding."

Cradling the infant, He Chen\'s blood stirred at Meng\'s gesture.

The words escaped his lips: "Why don\'t we become sworn brothers?"

But Meng paid him no heed.

Jiang was admiring the precious sword.

The babe in his arms blinked wide eyes at him, dribbling once more.

After presenting the treasured blade, Meng Shaoxia then removed his jade pendant and offered it to Jiang Yu.

"This jade pendant has accompanied me for many years, bringing me fortune in times of peril. I gift it to you, Little Yu. Take it and mature, and do not misplace yourself again."

Jiang Yu had been dreaming of sweets, when suddenly this jade ornament was thrust into her hands. Startled, she clutched it tightly, fearful that if she loosened her grip, the jade would fall and shatter, leading to demands for compensation.

She had never handled anything so precious before.

"I, I, I don\'t want it," Jiang Yu protested, extending the jade pendant back towards Meng Shaoxia\'s face.

"Do not be nervous. It is merely a parting gift. Look, we all wear ornaments just to present them as gifts upon meeting others," Meng Shaoxia explained with a smile.

Behind him, an elderly attendant on the carriage covered his eyes.

In this single journey, the young master had given away everything he carried, save for his clothes.

That jade pendant was the Old Madam\'s heirloom, passed down to the current young master\'s generation - an exceptionally rare warm jade core, known as the Jade Spirit. Searching the entire realm may not yield another like it.

Jiang Yu turned her curious gaze towards He Chen.

Meeting Meng\'s eyes, He Chen could only nod. "Yes, yes, a parting gift."

He called out to his attendant, "Come, help me remove my jade pendant."

The attendant took the jade pendant from He Chen\'s person.

Though not a heirloom, it was still an exquisite piece. But unlike what Meng had claimed about wearing ornaments just to gift them, He Chen did not adorn himself as a walking jewelry stand.

From now on, he would feel a pang whenever wearing a jade pendant.

He hung the pendant on the swaddling cloth carrying the infant.

"A parting gift for Little Cotton. When you grow up to be a beauty that topples nations, I shall boast that I once carried you in my arms," He Chen laughed heartily.

Little Cotton gazed at the jade ornament before her, utterly fascinated.

She reached out her plump little hands to grab it.

So smooth and cool to the touch, a perfect ring she could easily grasp. And beautifully decorated too, truly lovely.

She liked it.

Her chubby fingers slipped right through the center - it must be a jade bangle, the inner ring carved for wearing as a bracelet, though perfectly sized for an infant.

Little Cotton flashed a wide, toothless, drooling grin at the young master before her.

He Chen watched the babe smile broadly once more, a puddle of drool accompanying her joyful expression.

It dispelled the melancholy of their parting.

He had not expected Jiang Feng to refuse.

Even if unwilling to accompany them to Qingzhou, he could have gone with Meng to the capital. Meng was truly an exceptional man - righteous and noble, from an esteemed lineage.

But Jiang Feng said he dared not leave home - his sister was but a young girl, his mother timid, his father frail. The youth proclaimed his duty was to care for his family.

As scions of great clans, He Chen and Meng Shaoxia understood the plight of the clanless.

The worst punishment for a clansman\'s misdeeds was expulsion - inevitably met with wails of anguished regret and pleas for mercy.

For without a clan, one was akin to driftwood, a wandering speck of foam.

Subject to the abuse of all, grown men and stray mongrels alike.

Jiang Feng\'s family lived such an existence.

Yet Jiang Feng\'s refusal only earned He Chen\'s greater admiration.

He was indeed, as the verse proclaimed: "Knocking on thin bones, still ringing with a copper tone."

A stalwart lad of unyielding mettle. Though his rejection was unexpected, it seemed only fitting.

The previous night, He Chen had written a letter to his uncle in the capital, transcribing Jiang\'s poem and recounting his impressions. Whenever perplexed, he would confide in his uncle.

Though occupied with affairs, his uncle was ever attentive, responding to each inquiry.

With a household in such disarray, it was his uncle\'s devoted guidance that allowed He Chen to grow into an upright man.

Perhaps there had been a premonition that Jiang Feng would decline.

For he had deciphered the deeper meaning in Jiang\'s verses.

He Chen had his attendants prepare writing materials, paper, and the books he carried, leaving them all for Jiang.

Meng Shaoxia had bestowed his treasured sword and precious jade, even leaving behind his fine steed.

For the steed would not go of its own accord...

He had not anticipated Jiang Feng\'s rejection.

Yet he had prepared many parting gifts for Jiang\'s family.

Many sweets.

Fine grains.

Bolts of patterned cloth, hair ribbons.

But little in the way of silver coins.

They dared not present lavish monetary gifts, for fear of inviting calamity with excessive wealth.

With lingering reluctance, their parting came at last.

Meng Shaoxia turned back repeatedly.

Gazing at his horse, at the young woman standing beside it, one hand holding a box of sweets, the other waving vigorously in farewell.

Watching that youth, cradling an infant, a precious sword at his hip.

The babe was even waving its little arms from Jiang\'s embrace, as if bidding them farewell.

Meng took a few steps forward, then turned back again.

A few more steps, and another backwards glance.

The young woman must have grown weary of waving, for she now sat on a roadside boulder.

Seeing him look back, she raised her hand in another parting gesture.

Unable to resist, He Chen also turned to look behind him.

Watching those few figures dwindle into the distance.

They were venturing ever farther away.

...

In ages past, carriages and horses moved at such a sluggish pace.

In ages past, the paths were ever so long.

In ages past, people bidding farewell would invariably compose poems.

In ages past, people cherished their bonds, for chances to meet were scarce, and partings even rarer.

Li Bai wrote: "The waters of Peach Blossom Pool run deep a thousand fathoms, yet cannot match the depth of Wanglun\'s parting affection."

Wang Bo wrote: "Within these realms, true friends remain, though distant lands become like neighbors now."

Wang Wei wrote: "I urge you, drink another cup of wine, for westward lies Yang Pass, with no old friends beyond."

Bai Juyi wrote: "On the distant hills, grasses rise and fall with each passing year."

Gao Shi wrote: "Fret not the road ahead lacks kindred spirits, for who in all the world would fail to recognize you, friend?"

...

Swaying upon their mounts, He Chen and Meng Shaoxia each became lost in contemplation.

As if reciting their own farewells in silence.

After traveling some distance, they neared a dense forest thicket, its tangled boughs utterly impenetrable, concealing any who might lurk within.

An ideal place for an ambush.

Meng Shaoxia and He Chen exchanged smiles, then broke into hearty laughter.

For it was here they had encountered a band of roving rascals turned kidnappers, caught in the act of abducting a young woman who soundly thrashed her captors - not for attempting to sell her, but for neglecting to leave her parents a ransom note.

A shadowed grove, a earthen path, the drone of cicadas - an utterly commonplace scene.

Yet the people they chanced to meet rendered it extraordinary.

"What a marvelous journey this has been!" He Chen exclaimed with mirth.

Meng Shaoxia nodded. "Indeed, marvelous."

"Meng, were you perhaps smitten with Little Jiang Yu? That jade pendant of yours was the revered Jade Spirit - I\'ve heard my grandmother speak of it often," He Chen inquired with curiosity.

Meng Shaoxia said: "I admire her candor, her hearty appetite, and her sincere devotion to her family. My heart is filled with joy, but I do not wish to be presumptuous. Allow me to return and inform my parents, so that we may follow the proper marriage rituals and come to seek her hand."