Chapter 102: Departure

“I simply do not wish to owe anyone too much—whether it be Shao Changchun or Shui Linglong. Consider this Qinghong Sword as a token of my gratitude to him. If you happen to see Shao Changchun, please pass it on to him for me. He once saved my life, but that was only for Brother Lao San. Han Tanyi is long dead, do you understand?” The sword was thrust forward a little more. Even though Shui Linglong had no intention of taking it, the moment Han Tanyi released his grip, she instinctively caught the falling blade. Her expression was filled with sorrow as she looked at the young man before her. Three years is not a long time, yet it was enough to transform someone once brimming with ambition at their first meeting into what he was now—this alone was a masterpiece of fate, profound and unparalleled.

After a moment, she allowed a faint smile to grace her lips. “Shao Changchun is right before your eyes now. Why not hand the sword to him yourself? I only know the Han Tanyi you once were. As for this Brother Lao San, I don’t know who he is. Why should I pass anything on for him?”

This question genuinely left Han Tanyi somewhat at a loss. Her words were true—both identities were the same. If a choice had to be made, he could hardly argue. Shui Linglong was even more direct, extending the sword once again as if she truly did not recognize the man before her. A trace of helplessness appeared on Han Tanyi’s face as he slowly took the sword, letting out a slightly mocking smile at himself. “Very well. Since you don’t know him, I’ll deliver it to him myself when the opportunity arises. Since we are strangers now, please leave. It’s late at night; a lone man and woman together in one room—wouldn’t that invite gossip? It wouldn’t do your reputation any good.”

This was essentially an order to leave. Shui Linglong’s gaze fixed steadily on the man, as if confirming the truth of his words. At this moment, Han Tanyi’s expression had turned icy cold—like a stranger meeting another stranger. Even if they stood face to face, they were unknown to each other. His resolute and cold demeanor made her heart skip a beat, a sharp, indescribable pain washing over her. After a long moment, she slowly turned and walked toward the door, her pace slow and heavy, each step seeming laden with weight, even pausing at times. Yet she kept moving forward. Some things were simply unavoidable.

Finally, she stopped and spoke softly without looking back, “Even if you have forgotten who you once were, there is one thing I must tell you. What you decide to do with it is your own business.”

She paused here, waiting for something. For someone to completely forget their past was no easy feat. Her words were meant to stir the deep waters of his heart. As long as he cared even a little, the so-called forgetting was but a sham, devoid of all meaning. Yet Han Tanyi’s reaction was disappointing. He said nothing, and his actions resembled those of an outsider—his movements small but deliberate, tidying things as if he had not heard a word Shui Linglong had said.

Well, seeing this, she saw no reason to linger. With a slight sigh, she continued, “After Han Tanyi vanished without a trace from the Central Plains martial world, no one reacted much—they assumed you were dead. But Shen Wansan from Mingyue Manor was different. He has long coveted the position of martial alliance leader and would never let it go so easily. He dared not move against the Qilian sect, but there is one person—Flower Butterfly, you have forgotten, but you once said you are no longer Han Tanyi. Perhaps she has forgotten too. I suppose you don’t care, so consider this a joke. Poor Flower Butterfly, because she was too close to Han Tanyi, Shen Wansan branded her as your accomplice, a Blue Lotus Sect spy. Tianji Daoist, to secure the alliance leader’s position, would sacrifice even his own disciples—how much more a young girl like her? Poor Flower Butterfly is stubborn; now imprisoned in Mingyue Manor, who knows what suffering she endures. Why did she have to befriend someone like Han Tanyi?”

To forget was merely an act of feigned profundity; it was never so simple. Han Tanyi’s actions showed no sign of pause, as if the matters Shui Linglong spoke of were irrelevant to him. Under such circumstances, she had no reason to stay. No matter how much she wished otherwise, she could only turn and walk away. Outside, Qiu Shiniang and the Drunken Madman still stood by the door. What had transpired inside they did not know, but their gazes lingered on Shui Linglong with a hint of curiosity, though they dared not ask. Qiu Shiniang’s reasons were unknown to the Drunken Madman, but he himself was filled more with fear. Indeed, someone like Shui Linglong was not a person he could afford to provoke.

“Let’s go. You and I, sisters, haven’t met in a long time. Return to your Tianxiang Pavilion and have a good drink!” Shui Linglong continued walking forward without the slightest intention to stop. As she passed Qiu Shiniang, she spoke softly. Though her words seemed harmless, to the inexperienced youths just out of the martial world, such as these two, they immediately sensed the sorrow and helplessness beneath her tone. Shui Linglong did not pause, and Qiu Shiniang naturally did not interrupt. She was no fool; speaking now would only bring trouble upon herself. So, she could only follow slowly behind, leaving the Drunken Madman standing alone, looking bewildered.

After about a quarter of an hour, Shui Linglong and Qiu Shiniang had long vanished from sight. The night wind blew cold, causing the man’s body to shiver slightly. Inside the house, the lights still glowed faintly. The faint sounds of objects being moved or knocked about suddenly ceased. Apart from the rustling of leaves and branches, silence reigned. At this moment, the Drunken Madman silently wondered: Should he go in, or not? This was a dilemma. These matters were never his concern. Even if he understood, he was powerless to help and would only bring himself trouble. No, better to remain as he was—a madman lost in wine. Bewilderment was sometimes better than clarity. It was already difficult enough for him to get drunk; why invite more trouble?

Having made up his mind, the Drunken Madman turned as if to leave, but his steps faltered. Just as he lifted his foot, a familiar voice called from behind, forcing him to stop: “Madman, why rush away? The wine isn’t finished yet. Don’t let others spoil your mood. Come in and have another cup with me, how about that?”

“Drinking? I never refuse that. But friend, do you think this is a time for wine? If you seek comfort or answers, I am not the one. Matters of this world are complicated—entangled with love, hate, and grievances. They are even more complex than what I wish to escape. So, if you want to drink, I’ll join you once more; if you want to ask other things, you’ve come to the wrong man.” The Drunken Madman slowly turned back with a faint smile, his words sounding almost disbelieving even to himself. Rather than responding to Han Tanyi’s words, it was as if he was weighing his own heart. Indeed, drinking might numb the body, but to deceive the heart was another matter entirely.

Han Tanyi understood the meaning behind the Drunken Madman’s words. His gaze tilted upward toward the sky, where darkness reigned. No stars were visible—at best, a few scattered pinpricks of light. With a soft sigh, he turned and headed back inside, ignoring the Drunken Man’s offer. They both understood the unspoken implication. The Drunken Madman slowly took his leave, walking out of the courtyard. Though he had witnessed a kind of drama, he felt as if cleansed, knowing it was time to find a quiet place to think. Perhaps, like Han Tanyi, there were things he could no longer avoid and must face head-on.

Drunken, I fail to recognize the old melody; awakened, I yearn for the old friend. People are gone, the house empty, yet flowers remain; flowers wither and bloom again, welcoming the spring once more.