As the end of the year drew near, a heavy snow fell over Xijing.
Declaring that auspicious snow heralded a fruitful year, Zhao Lanxiang, who happened to have time off, rallied Lian Youming and the two younger children for a thorough cleaning of the house. They swept snow where there was snow and wiped dust where there was dust.
His boyish mischief still very much alive, Lian Youming grabbed a handful of snow and slyly shoved it down his younger siblings' collars, sending the pair chasing after him in a flurry of laughter.
Right in the midst of the uproar, a worker from the subdistrict neighborhood office bustled up with quick, tiny steps, holding half a roasted sweet potato. Nibbling as she spoke, she called out, "Lanxiang, there's a phone call for your family—all the way from Guangxi."
At first, Zhao Lanxiang thought it was Shen Qinghong calling. Her face lit up with joy, and she dropped her broom and moved to head out. But hearing it was from Guangxi, she paused in surprise, and her smile grew even wider. Narrowing her smiling eyes, she teased, "Son, you wouldn't mind if your lovely mother took..."
Lian Youming bounded out of the courtyard in a single stride and took off running without once looking back. "I do mind!"
Zhao Lanxiang huffed, "You get yourself a sweetheart and forget your own mother—you ungrateful little wolf."
Yet the delight never faded from her face, settling into a tender maternal smile. "He really is grown up."
Lian Shuang slipped up beside her mother and giggled cheekily. "Mom, want me to go eavesdrop on what my brother says?"
Zhao Lanxiang quickly held her daughter back. "Hear no improper things. Who knows what sort of embarrassing sweet nothings they're whispering."
Curious, Lian Shuang asked, "Mom, did Dad ever whisper sweet nothings to you?"
At the mention of that, Zhao Lanxiang first looked pensive, then her delicate brows knitted slightly, and finally her forehead furrowed deep as she ransacked half a lifetime of memories. Under the wide-eyed gaze of her daughter, she finally squeezed out, "Your dad said he was cow dung and I was a flower, and that he could fertilize me."
Hearing that, the siblings nearly collapsed in laughter.
Over at the subdistrict office, Lian Youming stood in the snow, leaning close to a small service window as he picked up the receiver.
Yet, though the two of them always had endless things to say in their letters, once the line connected, nothing remained between them but the sound of each other's breathing.
Lian Youming broke the silence first, chuckling. "Craving something again? What do you want to eat?"
"So much! I want the cured meat Auntie makes, and the spicy sausages. Send me some chili peppers, too, and other Sichuan seasonings. Do you still have any red sausage? I miss that so much. Send me some of that Northeast millet, too—I really want some dachazhou..."
Seeing the young clerk inside the window desperately stifling her giggles, Lian Youming felt a bit embarrassed. Shifting his posture, he cupped a hand over the mouthpiece. "Hold on a second, that's quite a list. Let me write it down."
Once he had filled over half a page with all sorts of food, Yan Lingyun finally changed the subject: "When are you coming to see me?"
Hearing her familiar voice, Lian Youming could not help a grin spreading across his face, teasing casually, "Are you starved out of your mind? Wanting to eat me too?"
On the other end of the line, Yan Lingyun spat playfully, her face burning hot. "Talking nonsense again!"
Lian Youming asked, "What should we do with the Eastern pearls?"
Yan Lingyun said hastily, "Don't you dare touch those! I've taken a liking to them, so bring them to me next year. Those are treasures meant to be passed down through generations—it would be a waste to trade them for cash."
Lian Youming feigned astonishment. "Then how much can you offer? Just you alone won't be enough. I was hoping to trade them for money to build up some family property—maybe even get a taste of living like a wealthy landlord, and then..."
Before he could finish, her voice spiked an octave, loud enough to make his eardrums throb. "Lian Youming, you little bastard! All you think about is money! You want to be a wealthy landlord? And then what?!"
Lian Youming dug at his ear. "Taking a wife and raising kids takes money, doesn't it? Putting the children through school will cost money later, too. What if I marry a greedy little glutton? How am I supposed to support her without any family savings?"
Yan Lingyun's voice cut off abruptly, leaving only the fierce thumping of a heartbeat and shallow, hurried breaths over the line.
After a long while, the girl's trembling, unsteady voice came through: "Really?"
"Fake." Lian Youming burst out laughing.
Yan Lingyun gave a cold huff, lowering her voice. "Real or fake, I'm telling you: the aged medicine is nearly ready. This formula is called 'Earth Spirit Heaven-Mending Powder.' To a certain extent, it can mend severed sinews and knit crippled bones, formulated specifically for old injuries... And I'm afraid our family won't be able to keep it safe."
Her tone grew solemn toward the end.
"My father and the others are already looking for help. I wanted to help too, but the only person I could think of was you."
The smile gradually faded from Lian Youming's face, his tiger-like eyes narrowing slightly, though he still replied with gentle warmth, "Understood. Martial artists have set their sights on the aged medicine? Don't worry. In that case, I'll head over right after the New Year. If things really come to a crisis, your own safety matters most. Even if the medicine is lost, it won't matter—I'll definitely snatch it back for you."
Yan Lingyun gave a quiet "Mm." After a long pause, she whispered, "Then I'm hanging up. My dad and brother don't know yet; I can't let them catch me."
Lian Youming asked in confusion, "Know what?"
Yan Lingyun sighed. "Oh, quit playing dumb. Just hurry up and mail me the food..."
Before she finished, she heard Lian Youming say softly, "It doesn't matter if the medicine is lost. Look after yourself above all else."
Yan Lingyun's tone softened. "I know. I'll wait for you to come."
When the call ended, a sharp glint flashed in Lian Youming's eyes. An aged medicine capable of mending sinews and knitting bones was extraordinary.
How many people's martial paths had been severed by lingering old injuries?
Moreover, his mind went to the King of Scraps' crippled leg.
After paying the phone fee, Lian Youming turned and headed home.
Not much time remained before the final day of the year.
It was called the year-end pass because in the old days, debtors had to clear all their accounts by this time; crossing into the new year was like braving a perilous barrier.
This year's debts had to be settled this year.
Now that he had taken Yan Lingyun's call, the next step was preparing to go to Cangzhou.
When he had openly declared he would test hands with the Eagle Claw Sect, Lian Youming had not acted out of recklessness. If he did not seize the initiative, ghost only knew what treacherous schemes would await him. He might be able to dodge them himself, but who could say whether those scoundrels might strike at his family and friends in humiliated fury?
Besides, on the path of martial arts, there was never any reason to retreat.
Yet whether this pass would spell ruin and disgrace for the Eagle Claw Sect or prove to be Lian Youming's fatal impasse would come down to who had the superior skill.
Moreover, going to Cangzhou this time was not only to test hands; he also needed to look in on Xie Laosan's granddaughter.
Wait—Xie Laosan seemed to belong to the Eagle Claw Sect himself.
Returning to the courtyard, Lian Youming said to Zhao Lanxiang, "Mom, I want to take a long trip."
Zhao Lanxiang did not object right away. Instead, she asked curiously, "To Guangxi?"
Lian Youming chuckled. "No, a trip to Hebei."
Zhao Lanxiang was remarkably open-minded and had faith in her son. Asking only that single question, she agreed, "I'll let your father know tonight. Remember to come back early."
Lian Youming nodded. Once he made up his mind, he never dragged his feet; he always moved with swift, decisive force.
After finishing breakfast, he went out again, bought everything Yan Lingyun craved, and mailed off a hefty parcel—enough to last her a month or two.
By dusk, Lian Youming had packed his luggage and purchased his ticket in advance; he would set off at dawn tomorrow.
Taking advantage of delivering dinner, he went over to the King of Scraps' small courtyard.
As usual, the old man was curled inside his little doorway, fiddling with his xiangqi pieces.
Hearing the sound in the courtyard, the King of Scraps spoke without lifting his head: "Your killing intent has stirred. Off to kill someone?"
Lian Youming grinned broadly. "Taking a long trip."
The King of Scraps remarked calmly, "True enough. The year's end is near; new accounts and old debts must all be settled together. Don't be careless."
Lian Youming replied with a cheeky grin, "Don't worry. This is a matter of life and death, after all—how could I be careless? And this time, I won't leave any lingering troubles behind."
The King of Scraps sighed. "Anything you want to ask before you go?"
Lian Youming set down the mess tin in his hand. "Have you ever heard of Earth Spirit Heaven-Mending Powder? Would it work on that leg of yours?"
Even at a time like this, hearing that the youth was still concerned about him, the King of Scraps shook his head with deep emotion. "It's good stuff, but my leg has been ruined for too many years. I'm afraid the effect would be negligible at best."
Lian Youming nodded. "As long as it has some effect."
The King of Scraps finally lifted his head and looked into the youth's eyes: so fearless, so resolute, so fiercely domineering and peerlessly sharp, young and brimming with vigor.
Such a person would surely overlap with the memory every aging martial artist held of their former self.
"In my entire life, I've never gone back on my word, but you're the first, kid. I've given you that word; I won't ask you to serve tea or bow. Just come back alive."
The old man did not try to talk him out of it, for he too had once been young.
Lian Youming asked curiously, "I've grown up all these years and still don't know what your surname is."
The King of Scraps remained silent for a long time before saying, "My surname is Liu."
Lian Youming nodded. "Noted."
With those few words spoken, he turned to leave, but from the corner of his eye he saw the King of Scraps toss something toward him—a yellow-skinned wine gourd.
"The tiger bone liquor is steeped."
Lian Youming caught the gourd and waved a hand without looking back.
Watching the youth's retreating figure, the King of Scraps chuckled with a sigh. "This kid really knows how to put on a show. Heh, to practice tai chi with such fierce killing intent—he must be the first since Yang Luchan."
Chapter 73