Volume One: The Emperor’s Sword Chapter 95: Maximizing the Donkey’s Value

In a quiet teahouse, Yun Que sat at a window table, sipping his tea in leisurely contentment.

Across from him sat Han Jiao.

On the table before Han Jiao there was not only steaming tea, but also a perfectly intact piece of candy.

Yun Que had taken two pieces at the time, eaten one, and left one behind.

Luo Xiaoyu sat at the side of the table, gulping down tea in big mouthfuls. She had eaten too much candy in one go a moment ago and had made herself sickly sweet.

Han Jiao's eyes were swollen, and it was plain to see that she had been crying for a long time. Still, the whole of her seemed much more spirited than before.

"You are as good as dead. Why should Lord Yun trouble himself? Just let me wither away on my own."

Her tone remained as cold as before, utterly unlike the Han Jiao from Yanmen Town. It was as though she had become a different person altogether, one with little feeling left in her.

"Even an ant clings to life; much more so a living person. Your spiritual root has a problem, so find a way to solve it. You don't even have the courage to try. All you know is crying your eyes out. If your fellow townsfolk saw you like this, wouldn't they laugh? The specialty of Yanmen Town is a little troublemaker, not a tear-streaked ghost," Yun Que said.

"I'm not a tear-streaked ghost! It's not as if I wanted to cry. You made me cry, didn't you!"

Han Jiao snatched the candy from the table, stuffed it angrily into her mouth, and chewed furiously.

"That's more like it. Now you look like a living person. Just now there wasn't a trace of life in you. You looked like an emotionless walking corpse," Yun Que said with a smile.

"Master says a sword attendant does not need emotions." Savoring the sweetness of the candy, Han Jiao took a deep breath and said, "I am already at the third level of Qi Refining. Soon I will reach the middle stage of Qi Refining."

To cultivate to the third level in a single month was astonishing speed by any standard.

"Fast. It seems your talent is pretty good," Yun Que praised, then asked, "What exactly is a sword attendant?"

The Sword Palace had sword sons, sword disciples, and sword servants, but he had never heard of sword attendants.

"I don't really know either. Master only said they are people who serve the sword, a special sort of talent found only in the upper sects," Han Jiao said, still confused.

"A sword attendant of the Spirit Sword Sect..."

Yun Que frowned slightly.

It sounded all right. Special talents would surely come with special resources, yet the words sword attendant somehow did not sound so pleasant.

Attendant, service, maid, guard—the character for "serve" itself carried the meaning of waiting upon and accompanying.

Taken literally, a sword attendant ought to mean one who keeps company with the sword, someone whose special duty is to serve it.

Yun Que knew little of the upper sects and had no way to determine the true meaning of sword attendant, but he did not much like the term.

"Did your master ever say how the drawbacks of a dragon spiritual root can be resolved?" Yun Que asked.

Han Jiao shook her head and said heavily, "Master said it can only be suppressed. There is no other good solution for now. Every time she sees me, there is always regret in her eyes. It is my fate to be unlucky; there is no one else to blame."

Yun Que fell silent for a while, then took a sip of hot tea.

Even the elders of the South Court were at a loss, so it seemed the matter of the dragon spiritual root was indeed troublesome.

"If you stop cultivating, can the reversal of the meridians be delayed?" Yun Que asked.

He had once heard Zhou Yuanliang speak of the drawback of the dragon spiritual root when it appeared in women.

"The difference is not great. At most, one can simply live a few more days. Rather than lingering on in misery for a few more days, it is better to give it one's all and charge to the very end, dying on the brightest day of all."

Han Jiao almost unconsciously spoke those words, yet her expression remained full of bewilderment.

Clearly, she did not truly understand what they meant.

Yun Que's brows shot up.

He had caught something unusual. Han Jiao's emotional, almost stirring words should not have been her own feelings.

When had a young lady of the Han family, not yet twenty and once sheltered in comfort in Yanmen Town, become so self-sacrificing and noble?

And that last sentence was even more suspicious.

Dying on the brightest day of all—what day was that supposed to be?

Han Jiao could never possibly know the day of her own death, nor should she know why her death would be bright.

In an instant, Yun Que reached a conclusion: those words had definitely been told to her by someone else.

Then the person most likely to have said such a thing to Han Jiao could only be one: the South Court elder, Spring Rain.

"Your master told you that?" Yun Que asked with a smile.

Han Jiao froze for a moment, then nodded. "Master is very good to me. She often guides my cultivation. Her teachings, as a disciple, I would not dare forget."

"I advise you to forget them if you can," Yun Que said with feeling. "Your master thinks you are not dying fast enough. The fate of a tool, after all, is always tragic."

Han Jiao gradually looked astonished, then thoughtful, mulling over Yun Que's words.

"Master would not harm me. I am only a tiny disciple. Whether I live or die brings her no benefit," Han Jiao said in puzzlement.

"Your master is not trying to harm you."

Yun Que was growing anxious at Han Jiao's lack of insight, and could only explain, "Your master is merely hastening your death. She is treating you like a tool. You have donkeys at home, don't you? Even if you do not, you must have seen one before. Think about it: how do you squeeze the greatest value out of a donkey that is about to die?"

"A donkey that's about to die?" Han Jiao lowered her head, lost in thought.

After drinking her fill of tea, Luo Xiaoyu raised a hand to show that she had an answer.

"Kill it and sell the donkey meat! Donkey-meat flatbread is the best!"

Yun Que nodded and even gave Luo Xiaoyu the half pot of tea that remained to him.

"Is Senior Brother Yun rewarding me with more tea because I got the answer right?"

"No. I'm hoping you'll see whether you can pour the tea into your brain and rinse out the filth in there."

"Huh? There's filth in my brain too?"

Luo Xiaoyu resumed drinking tea, all the while pondering how one was supposed to get tea into one's brain. At times she lowered her head to drink, at times she tipped her head back, and before she could manage it properly she had choked herself into a fit of coughing.

Han Jiao was amused by Luo Xiaoyu's foolish cuteness and laughed, though the smile on her face was somewhat bitter.

She already knew the answer.

"Day and night, flogging it so the donkey keeps turning the mill, until it is worn to death and then dragged away for donkey meat... Could it be that Master has been treating me like a donkey?" Han Jiao said bitterly. "What should I do..."

"First, stop cultivating!"

Yun Que straightened, then advised, "Second, gather every pill and every method you can that can suppress an outbreak of your bloodline. Last, take part in the contest for the sword son and seek your chance."

Han Jiao listened very intently.

"As long as there is even a sliver of hope, don't give up. Don't shame the people of our Yanmen Town," Yun Que said with a smile. "I'll help you think of a way too."

Han Jiao nodded gratefully, and her whole being grew much more alive. Much of the decay and gloom on her was stripped away.

"That old hag Spring Rain has a vicious heart. From the moment she took you in as her disciple, she never had good intentions. From now on, use all the time you would have spent on improving your cultivation to practice swordsmanship instead."

Yun Que continued helping her devise a plan.

"If Spring Rain blames you for cultivating too slowly, then plead guilty and say that this disciple is foolish and asks Master to punish her. I doubt that old hag would truly punish a disciple over that. At most she will curse you for being stupid. Better to be scolded for being dense than to die young."

By now, Yun Que could determine with certainty that Spring Rain was training Han Jiao with all her might because she wanted to forge Han Jiao into a sword.

A sword that would be ruined after a single use.

How could Yun Que possibly let that old hag have her way?

"I know a weapon refiner who has done some research into grafting techniques. She may have some insight into removing spiritual roots. I'll ask her about it for you tomorrow."

He was naturally referring to Si Ruonan.

Yun Que could not be certain that Si Ruonan had any unique insight into grafting spiritual roots, but this would at least leave Han Jiao with a sliver of hope. Otherwise, her condition was truly worrying.

"Thank you, Lord Yun. I will live well. I will live all the way to the end!" Han Jiao promised solemnly.

"That's more like it."

Yun Que glanced outside at the darkening sky and rose to his feet.

"The auction is about to begin. Let's go take a look at Clear Talisman Tower. We may even come away with an unexpected reward."