Chapter Forty: Conversation

“Third Brother, there’s no need for you to be so modest. While Bright Moon Manor is a prominent force in the martial world, isn’t our Qilian Sect also one of the Four Great Clans? She’s the beloved daughter of Master Shen, and you’re the favored disciple in our master’s eyes. A perfect match, isn’t it? Besides, aren’t you the most likely candidate to become the next sect leader of Qilian?” With these words, Qiu Wan’er blurted out what Xia Wuya had only hinted at. Naturally, such matters were sensitive—others might hesitate to speak so openly, but this young girl paid no heed to such concerns. The moment the words left her lips, the lighthearted atmosphere grew noticeably heavier, and all eyes turned toward Han Tanyi and Xia Wuya.

By rights, Han Tanyi was the eldest senior brother. Judging by martial prowess and status alone, there was no one more suitable to lead Qilian. But things were seldom so simple. If everything proceeded along preordained paths, Xia Wuya would have nothing to say. Yet Han Tanyi was not the type to make things easy—he was notorious for his mischievousness, and on top of that, he had even violated the Elder Tianji’s strict prohibition against entering the rear mountain valley. Such transgressions were no small matter. If these were to be used as pretext, Han Tanyi’s succession as sect leader would certainly be questioned.

Of course, even if everyone harbored such thoughts, it would be inappropriate to draw conclusions before anything was set in stone. Especially for someone in Xia Wuya’s position, it would be unwise to get entangled in these affairs. He already felt awkward, and now, keeping with the mood, he tried to explain himself: “It’s one thing for Senior Brother to tease me, but now even you join in, little girl. My poor heart can’t take it. Senior Brother is the master’s first disciple, skilled in martial arts—he’s the rightful heir to the sect. Why mock me, Junior Sister?”

These words rendered Sha Wan’er silent as well. Though she was young and quick-tempered, her words were often impulsive and unconsidered. With Xia Wuya’s gentle remonstration, she realized her misstep, guilt settling in as she lowered her head, fearing Han Tanyi might scold her. Seeing the group fall into silence—even Qiu Wan’er—Han Tanyi felt amused. He paused briefly, then suddenly burst out laughing, a reaction that left the others puzzled. When his laughter subsided, he said, “Little Sister spoke truly. Third Brother, there’s no need to be so cautious. Everyone in Qilian knows what kind of person Han Tanyi is. I’ve never had any ambition to be sect leader, nor am I suited for it. If I were to take the position, who knows what would become of our sect? If you’re willing to take on the mantle, you’d be doing me a great favor.”

Han Tanyi’s words were sincere, without a trace of pretense. Yet, whether genuine or not was difficult for Xia Wuya to discern at that moment. He could only force a smile, unable to find the right words for such a situation. Silence, perhaps, was the wisest course. Qiu Wan’er, on the other hand, seemed comforted by the exchange, lifting her head and exclaiming, “Senior Brother is just like me—fond of fun. Otherwise, the master wouldn’t have sent us together to Xingyang. Isn’t that right, Senior Brother?”

Seeing the girl’s earnestness, Han Tanyi nodded in agreement, as if her words captured his very thoughts. At that moment, the mountain sun shone warmly, nearing noon, enveloping everyone in a drowsy comfort. Even the gentle breeze, which might have brought a touch of alertness, was blocked by the gathered crowd. Han Tanyi, already tired, now felt his sleepiness deepen under the sunlight. Unable to restrain it, he let out a gentle yawn.

“Oh, all this constant travel has left me exhausted and weary. I’d better get some rest and catch up on sleep. By the way, where’s the master? I haven’t seen him around.” Han Tanyi glanced about, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Perhaps his words touched a sore spot for Qiu Wan’er, for she pursed her lips in displeasure. For Xia Wuya, however, the earlier awkwardness had eased somewhat after the comforting exchange. He quickly responded, steering the conversation away: “The master went down the mountain early this morning—seems he headed to Xingyang. As for what business he has, we don’t know.”

“Is that so?” Han Tanyi couldn’t tell if this was good or bad news. Xingyang was hardly a peaceful place. Instinct told him that the Elder’s trip must be connected to the recent events involving the Shen family. Shen Wansan was a person of great stature—he would always care about appearances in front of other martial figures, especially someone as renowned as the Elder. Thus, the matter of the luminous pearl and the golden leaf likely wouldn’t be mentioned. Even if Shen Wansan cast aside his pride, he couldn’t possibly know that the golden leaf was actually in Han Tanyi’s possession. No matter how he looked at it, Han Tanyi felt secure for now. “In that case, I’ll go rest first. If anything comes up, we can discuss it later.”

As the luminous pearl came to mind, Han Tanyi’s hand unconsciously slipped into his pocket, feeling the smooth, rounded surface of the treasure. It was unmistakable. He mused privately on its value, but his real concern lay with the person behind it. His previous actions had all been for the sake of the Butterfly. In ancient times, men would risk all for the women they loved; today, Han Tanyi, too, had set aside his dignity to become the lowest of thieves in the martial world. Had this taken place before the events in Jinjiang City, he might have felt nothing but pride; now, however, his feelings had changed.

No one stopped him as he left. Even someone as thoughtless as Qiu Wan’er could see the exhaustion etched on Han Tanyi’s face. She might not have understood the cause, but she put it down to the strain of travel and agreed he should rest. The watching crowd dispersed along with Han Tanyi—though curiosity about the world beyond the mountains remained, there was no rush.

Perhaps only one person’s gaze carried a hint of lingering doubt—Qiu Wan’er. As she watched Han Tanyi’s retreating figure, an inexplicable intuition stirred within her. He had only been gone a couple of days, yet something felt different about him, as though an unseen change had taken place. What had happened to him? Qiu Wan’er couldn’t say, and in truth, Han Tanyi himself could scarcely fathom it. His feelings were complex and tangled, and his steps were slow—not merely from fatigue, but because the face in his mind’s eye kept reappearing, impossible to forget. He muttered quietly, “Han Tanyi, you fool. You think you can leave the past behind just by walking away, but here I am, still thinking about it. Blue Lotus Sect, Water Linglong—all of it. Enough. I’ll deliver the luminous pearl to Butterfly first. Maybe, after seeing her often enough, I’ll forget that face.”

Having made up his mind, Han Tanyi hesitated no longer. He was in no state to visit the rear valley now; it wouldn’t do to show such weariness before someone he cared about. Everyone wishes to appear at their best before those they value most. For now, sleep was the best remedy—perhaps things would seem clearer upon waking.

There’s no comfort like one’s own bed. Han Tanyi had never thought much of it before, but after all he’d been through, the feeling of home was unmistakable. The moment his body touched the mattress, drowsiness overcame him, and in the blink of an eye, he drifted into a deep sleep, even snoring softly at times. He had intended to nap for a few hours, but in the end, his plans came to nothing. When he finally opened his eyes, the once-bright room was already dim with evening.

“Who’s there?” Han Tanyi called out, startled. Though the movement was swift, he clearly saw a shadow flit past the door—furtive and suspicious. Though Qilian was not a tightly guarded place, Han Tanyi seldom encountered scenes like this. Of course, it was possible someone was simply playing outside, but ever since the Blue Lotus incident, his nerves had been on edge. Even the slightest noise or disturbance put him on alert, mixed with a vague, unspoken fear.