To Travel by the Edge of a Creek

Chapter 37: CH 32


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Once Jiang Ling and the old man finished their exchanges, they found an inn to stay the night. Jiang Ling settled in, then once again headed out into the market to look around. Upon discovering that there were not any Xiyu people, Jiang Ling relaxed, certain that this place was safe. 

The next day, they headed back, their spoils carried on the horse’s back. 

The old man, seeing Jiang Ling’s vigilance over the past two days, asked: “Have some enemies?”

“…”

“Don’t bother pulling the wool over the eyes of an old man like me. It’s normal for people in Jianghu to have a few enemies.” The old man stroked the horse’s mane, “But you can be at ease. Very few people come all the way out here, just some folks who don’t like living with the Xiyu people and don’t want to go back to the central plains.”

“Don’t want to go back to the central plains?”

“There are many mires in a person’s life ah—” The old man sighed, sinking into the recesses of his memories. 

Jiang Ling did not continue her questioning. At the moment, she had even brought her own enemy into exile with her. She did not know what this would count as. 

After they returned to the oasis, the old man had Jiang Ling divide up the seeds and give some to the other residents of the oasis. 

When she returned to the old man’s house, she rolled out a carpet that she had just bargained for in her and He Xi’s room. 

He Xi had been resting for the past fortnight. The old woman had come and helped her change the medicine on her wounds, and her injuries had already healed for the most part, but her face was still feverish. 

The old woman changed He Xi’s clothes for her. As she did so, she fretted as she saw that she was still unconscious: “Her injuries are almost completely healed. Why hasn’t she woken up?”

“She’ll wake up once she’s come to terms with everything.”

He Xi had not yet gotten over the loss of her loved one. 

The old woman did not know what the two of them had experienced and quit the room once she was finished with her business. 

During the past half a month, Jiang Ling had given this little room a few more home touches. She placed her own bed by the window nearest the door and He Xi’s under the opposite window. 

Between the two beds was a goat hair rug with a low table on it. The room, originally used for storage, now had a rather more warm, comfortable air. 

Jiang Ling sat down on the rug, her head leaning against He Xi’s bed, “He Xi, when will you be able to get past this?”

“He Xi!” He Xi’s fingers twitched. Jiang Ling’s spirits rose, “He Xi!”

Jiang Ling called out to her twice, but He Xi did not seem intent on waking up. Disappointed, Jiang Ling leaned her head against her bed again, “If you don’t wake up, I won’t care about you anymore.”[1]

For the next several days, if Jiang Ling was not called out by the old man to do some weeding, then she would learn carving under his watchful eye. Afterall, if she was going to talk big, then she had best back it up. 

When Jiang Ling had free time, she would work on carving. Into the night, she buried herself in her work by the light of an oil lamp, the flame flickering back and forth. 

“What are you doing?” As soon as He Xi woke up, she saw someone sitting by her bedside wholly concentrated on something in their hands, not paying on whit of attention to He Xi as she woke up. He Xi sat up, half reclining against the window. 

Jiang Ling’s hands trembled, nearly cutting herself. She put the engraving knife down and turned around, joy lighting up her face, “He Xi, you remembered to wake up!”

A little aggrieved, as well. 

“I heard someone say that they wouldn’t care about me anymore.” He Xi smiled wryly. 

“No, I won’t care about you.”

He Xi saw Jiang Ling being like this and felt even more guilt. With her recent loss, He Xi knew now better what Jiang Ling felt. Endless guilt hung from her fragile face, “Jiang Ling, you still hate me, don’t you?”

Her painful memories brought up once again, the smile dropped from Jiang Ling’s face. She was silent. 

Just as He Xi thought that her words would bring their conversation to an end, Jiang Ling spoke, “Yes, I hate you so much. When we were on the road, I wanted to dump you off many times!” 

Jiang Ling’s eyes grew misty, “I hate myself, too. I know very clearly, know perfectly well that you killed my shixiong. I also can’t help but save you.” Tears started to stream down Jiang Ling’s face. 

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.” He Xi was very remorseful. She had made Jiang Ling fall into such a difficult situation. Right now, all she wanted to do was tear Zhu Li apart. 

“Yes, it’s all your fault. It’s your fault for saving me, your fault for poisoning the needles. Otherwise, my shixiong could’ve been saved!”

“Poison?” He Xi’s brow furrowed. She had indeed used her needles, “I didn’t add any poison.”

“You didn’t?” Jiang Ling was dumbfounded. Her tears stopped flowing, “Who else used needles then?”

He Xi was quiet. Back then, she had been the only one who had used silver needles. 

“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” Things were becoming far more complicated. Back then, her and Gu Shi had been seriously injured while He Xi and her people had come out unscathed, “What about your subordinate?”

“A Na? He didn’t. After I stole back the blades, I had him bring them back and I covered his retreat.” Their conversation returned to its starting point: if not He Xi, who had it been?

He Xi had ordered A Na to go back and investigate, but he only reported that there was one death and two injuries. Even though He Xi was certain that she did not kill anyone, this did not rule out someone dying from their injuries without timely treatment. So, she had accepted the ultimate conclusion. 

But now, Jiang Ling was telling her that Gu Yun had been poisoned to death. What happened?

“Jiang Ling, do you believe me?” He Xi caught Jiang Ling’s hand. 

“…” Jiang Ling sank into silence once again. Before this matter was cleared up, He Xi remained the biggest suspect. She pulled her hand out of He Xi’s grip, “It’s late. I’m going to sleep.”

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Jiang Ling blew out the light and laid down on her blanket. The room was still, only stirred by He Xi’s soft sigh. 

That night, Jiang Ling slept turbulently. She dreamt of that night three years ago. He Xi was dressed in her nightfaring garb, and injured her gravely, but she did not pass out immediately. She saw with her own eyes as Gu Yun was struck by He Xi’s needles, then collapsed to the ground, poisoned to death. Just as she was going to raise her sword and take her revenge for Gu Yun, an arrow split the night, piercing He Xi through the chest. She fluttered to the ground like a kite with its string cut. 

Jiang Ling grabbed He Xi’s body as she fell. She pulled down her face covering. Blood dribbled out of He Xi’s mouth, a broken voice clawing out of her throat: “Jiang Ling, it…wasn’t me, believe me…”

“He Xi! Tell me clearly!” Jiang Ling held He Xi’s body close, “He Xi, don’t die!”



“Jiang Ling.”

“He Xi!” Jiang Ling was startled awake from her nightmare, her face covered in sweat, panting. 

“You were having a nightmare.” He Xi reached out to wipe away Jiang Ling’s sweat. 

“He Xi, I’m scared.” Jiang Ling grabbed He Xi’s hand. 

“What are you scared of?” He Xi’s eyes twinkled with gentleness in the dim interior. 

“I’m afraid…” Afraid that you’ll die. Jiang Ling could not get the words out, “He Xi, sleep with me for a bit.”

“Hm?”

“Whenever I had nightmares before, my shijie would sleep with me. Stay with me.” Jiang Ling’s voice was soft and sticky, like she was acting spoiled. 

“I’m not your shijie.” Even as she spoke these words, she laid down next to Jiang Ling with a little smile on her face. She’s like a little child.

Jiang Ling burrowed into He Xi’s arms and shut her eyes, the soft touch sending tingles down He Xi’s back. 

Jiang Ling unconsciously rubbed against He Xi, trying to find a comfortable position. He Xi gritted her teeth, enduring the strange sensation. 

This was her first time sharing a bed with someone. Now, laying so close to Jiang Ling, she started to regret it. Jiang Ling’s warm body stuck to her, roasting her. She was vexed that, when Jiang Ling had asked her to sleep with her in that spoiled way, she had actually agreed. 

He Xi shifted to the side, but Jiang Ling tucked up even closer to her. 

He Xi struggled internally for a good while before, in the end, embracing Jiang Ling helplessly  and falling asleep. 

When she got up the next day, Jiang Ling was still not in good shape. The old couple saw that He Xi had woken up and cheerfully went to slaughter a chicken, to prepare chicken soup for He Xi. 

“You aren’t from the central plains?” The old woman noticed that He Xi’s irises were of an unusual color. Before, since He Xi had been unconscious, she had not had the chance to see her irises and thought that she was from the central plains too. 

He Xi answered: “No.”

She did not remember her own parents clearly. All of her memories from her childhood are from when she was trafficked with her fellow slaves. They always called her ‘Little Mutt,’ and from what she remembered, her mother had indeed had beautiful raven-black hair, so perhaps she was. 

Jiang Ling was absentminded all day, sitting beside the table in a daze. The old man smacked the table in front of her, “Jiang Ling, what’s with the daydreaming? Go check on the chicken soup and give your sister a bowl.”

“Sister?” He Xi turned her head to look at Jiang Ling. 

Jiang Ling returned to her senses, “What, you aren’t my sister?” She forced a laugh then ran out of the kitchen. 

He Xi’s injuries had mostly healed during the time she was unconscious, but the long period she spent in the little room had made her pale. The old woman’s chicken soup helped her recover, and when she went for a stroll through the fields with the old woman, she tanned under the sun. 

“Miss Jiang pulled these weeds over here, and she seeded this plot.” The old woman told He Xi what Jiang Ling had been up to while He Xi had been in a coma, “A pity about her hand.”

“I didn’t take care of her well enough.” He Xi rebuked herself. 

“Don’t blame us old folks later. Miss Jiang is a martial artist. The old man had Miss Jiang carve those rocks to help her practice using her left hand.” The old woman was likewise a careful person. 

“We’ve really troubled you both, making you take care of us for so long.” He Xi said with heartfelt gratitude. 

The old woman said that it was no trouble. The two of them saw them as two more grandchildren. 

Jiang Ling was scolded by the old man. The stone from yesterday had been high in quality, with a fine, smooth texture. At the outset, he had come over to see how Jiang Ling was doing on her carving, having improved much over the past few days, but he did not expect that the stone had been irreparably scratched by Jiang Ling, wasting his good materials. 

As punishment, he made Jiang Ling search around for a large stone to carve ‘Dao De Jing’ onto. 

“I can’t recite ‘Dao De Jing’.[2]” Yun Yang had never forced her to recite these kinds of books. 

The old man angrily grabbed a copy of Dao De Jing from his collection and thrust it at Jiang Ling. Jiang Ling took the book and sat on the doorstep, carving the stone for an entire day. 

By the time Jiang Ling was finished, it was already dark outside. He Xi had hung a lantern next to her while she was entirely unaware, and it was not until she was completely finished that she noticed that her eyes were dry. She shook out her hands, rubbing her sore left hand, then went back to the room. 

He Xi was reclined against the headboard, a book in hand. She flipped through it carefully but did not lift her gaze to Jiang Ling. She was afraid that Jiang Ling would bring up sleeping together again; she had not slept well last night. 

Jiang Ling sat down at the table and had a drink of water. As before, her expression was vacant, her mind wandering. 

The time flowed by peacefully. 

“Whoosh,” The book slipped onto the carpet. Jiang Ling glanced at the book, then saw He Xi’s hand dangling off to the side. In a daze, Jiang Ling saw He Xi, her body covered in blood, laying in her own arms, her body gradually growing cold. The scene from her nightmare was slowly manifesting before her eyes. 

“He Xi!” Jiang Ling rushed to the bed and hugged He Xi close, tears slipping out of her eyes, “He Xi… I believe you!”

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