It happened in a flash.
Just as Nanxi prepared to intervene and aid the Fei Family Army, a sword qi descended from the sky and blocked his path.
It was Shuang Feixue.
She hovered in the air on her inner force, her beautiful eyes as chilling as her name—piercing to the bone.
“Master, I want to…”
Nanxi knew in his heart that Shuang Feixue would not let him get involved, but he still wanted to try arguing a few words.
But before he could finish half a sentence, his mouth was gently sealed by her slender jade finger.
Shuang Feixue half-closed her eyes and said coldly,
“If the matter is not our fault and the grudge has nothing to do with us, then when it does not concern us, we stay out of it. Otherwise, we only invite trouble. Disciple, reaching this point is already enough.”
“But…”
Shuang Feixue gave him no chance to argue.
She shook her head lightly—the movement small, but the meaning clear.
Impossible.
She would not allow it.
Nanxi closed his eyes.
He accepted it.
Shuang Feixue carried her disciple away from this place of trouble.
In mere moments, they returned to the thatched hut on the mountain.
Flowers and plants grew beside the hut, lending it some modest charm after all.
Originally, with Master Zhang’s support, the master and disciple pair should not have ended up living on a mountain like this.
But to think that way was to misunderstand the plight of the Xia people.
Though Great Liang was far from benevolent, that did not mean Zhou was any kinder.
Xia people looked down on foreign tribes—how could those tribes possibly like Xia people in return?
In the days of Great Sheng’s prosperity, national strength was mighty, drawing tribute from ten thousand nations and homage from a thousand clans.
But once weakened, Tubo rose in rebellion again.
Speaking of the current state of the realm, one man bore irreplaceable responsibility: Emperor Xuanzong.
Yet this too was the mandate of heaven.
How magnificent the Xia and Sheng dynasties had been—yet in the end, they could not withstand the boulder forever rolling downward.
The mandate of heaven—it reminds everyone that some things cannot be escaped.
Though Shuang Feixue came from a Daoist background, she took no pleasure in the way of nature.
She preferred to study the laws of Nonja the Legalist and the theories of Xunzi the Confucian, yet she was no stubborn dogmatist.
Otherwise, she would not have made Nanxi read so many books—learning to read and practicing martial arts would have sufficed.
But she understood that to live in this world, one must read to understand reason.
Only then could one live lucidly.
It was pitiable that for a thousand years, people only knew to read books without seeking to grasp reason.
Most coveted wealth and power, thus ending up dying for money like men, perishing for food like birds.
Yet one could not truly blame them. Who did not live for desire?
Besides, if people lost the seven emotions and six desires, what meaning would life hold?
If one truly reached the throne of the realm, all those literati throughout history who claimed purity would scramble desperately to seize it.
In short, Shuang Feixue preferred living in remote wilderness over the bustling city for a simple reason: she did not wish to invite trouble from the Zhou people.
The mountain was inconvenient, but at least it was free from the trampling of iron hooves.
Unlike in the city, where if a Xia person’s head was chopped off by Zhou people, the Xia bystander still had to praise it as good—otherwise, the next headless one would be the one who refused.
Shuang Feixue did not want to praise it, nor did she want to resist.
So she became a turtle—withdrawing her head at the sight of blood.
Such a life could hardly be called exhilarating, but in these chaotic times, merely surviving this way was already a blessing.
At least there was food to eat and honey wine to drink.
Back when she played the so-called hero, Shuang Feixue had been just like her disciple—acting without thought, heedless of consequences or benefits, charging forward blindly.
Even if she crashed into a southern wall, she refused to utter a word of pain.
Now she knew better.
Those reckless deeds felt satisfying in the moment, but they were only because retribution had not yet arrived.
Now retribution had come, and she dared not face it. What to do when one dared not face it?
Flee, then.
Even if it meant becoming a turtle despised by the world—at least she was still alive.
Yet some things cannot be escaped simply because one wishes to flee.
Shuang Feixue had returned shortly after Nanxi finished killing those people.
At first, she had only watched with the mindset of a spectator.
But once she understood the identity of the master and servant pair, she only regretted not returning sooner—so she could have grabbed Nanxi and fled.
So they would not be entangled in this hopelessly muddled affair.
To the point that Nanxi had ruined himself with his own hands.
Using Daoist sect methods to kill people of the Daoist and Buddhist sects, with a member of the Liang imperial family right beside them.
That snake woman must have realized what kind of person could accomplish all this—perhaps the strongest under heaven who betrayed her sect twelve years ago, and the child she carried.
Everything added together could never seem like coincidence, no matter how one explained it.
Yet no matter how one explained it, it could only be coincidence.
Shuang Feixue could not comprehend it. How could there be such coincidence in the world?
She forgot that for countless events born of coincidence, there is a word more fitting than coincidence.
The mandate of heaven.
From the moment she took that infant into her arms, the boulder of heavenly mandate had begun rolling downward once more.
Shuang Feixue only hoped the Feng imperial family and the Fei Family Army would both back off unharmed, each finding the other too troublesome to pursue.
Then perhaps today’s events would not reach that snake woman’s ears, and she and Nanxi could continue their days in peace.
Before she could sort out the thoughts swirling in her mind, Nanxi—feeling somewhat wronged—asked the deeply troubled Shuang Feixue seated in the chair,
“Master, why wouldn’t you let me help the Fei Family Army? They are heroes with great righteousness. How could I just watch them die?”
Hearing these naive words, the already troubled Shuang Feixue could not help but flare up in anger. She snapped,
“What do you know?! Do you not realize who that master and servant pair are? If you help those people kill them, do you not understand what consequences that would bring? I made you read books to understand reason—yet all those books went into a dog’s belly instead? Have you read too many storybooks and truly believe you can play the great hero in this world?!”
The more Shuang Feixue spoke, the angrier she became, completely forgetting that it was precisely her own teachings that had set Nanxi on this path of heroism.
Hearing his master’s fury, Nanxi’s eyes filled with tears.
He felt he had done nothing wrong.
Nanxi had read many books and understood reason and human sentiment, but his mind was still immature.
Plainly speaking, he had not yet reached the age where his guts were filled with calculations.
What he held to now was stubborn principle—the jianghu code of drawing one’s blade at the sight of injustice.
Yet this world was never a jianghu where roaring loudly and killing a few people could solve everything.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. I just wanted to help people!”
With those words, Nanxi ran out of the thatched hut in tears.
Leaving behind Shuang Feixue, who instantly regained clarity.
Only now did she realize her words had been too harsh.
Usually, she maintained the gentle image of a loving mother before Nanxi, lacking much stern authority.
To suddenly shout at him like this—the child must be unconvinced.
Shuang Feixue meant to chase after him, but she only rose from the chair before sitting back down.
Letting the child calm down alone might be the better choice right now.
And besides, she had thought of a solution.
Shuang Feixue knew she could not protect both herself and Nanxi.
But she could do everything to protect Nanxi alone.
All it required was relying on one person.
The eldest daughter of the Zhang family, Zhang Yiwei.