He simply... was born for this kind of deadly weapon!

 

Chang An immediately became even less nervous. He quickly realized that this outsider was just like him—someone who had secretly come to a place he was not supposed to be. They were half a catty and eight taels (NT: two things of equal weight).

The middle-aged man set down the basket full of medicinal herbs on his back, walked over, carefully examined Chang An, then curiously looked at the blade in his hand and asked, « How old are you? Why are you here alone? Who taught you to play with this? »

Chang An was always running around the tribe by himself. Although the adults of the Vulture Tribe looked down on philosophy and lofty sayings, they could hardly be bothered to argue with a child. Instead, they felt he was somewhat pitiful and generally treated him well. Over time, Chang An simply stopped being afraid of people, whether strangers or acquaintances. Thus, with the fearlessness of a newborn calf that does not fear the tiger (NT: idiom, an inexperienced person who fears nothing), he replied, « Nobody taught me. I learned by watching. »

« Oh? » The middle-aged man pondered for a moment before asking, « Without anyone guiding you, just by watching, you can remember everything? »

Chang An looked at him in surprise. He did not quite understand. If you had already seen it, why would you not remember it?

The middle-aged man picked up the blade that had fallen to the ground and weighed it lightly in his hand. Glancing at Chang An, he asked, « Do you like knives? »

Without a moment’s hesitation, Chang An nodded.

The man continued, « What is it that you like about them? »

The question was far too complicated for a six-year-old child. Chang An looked bewildered and could not answer. After quite some time, a flash of inspiration crossed his mind, as though he had remembered something someone once said: Only by holding a knife can one stay alive.

Yet before he could tell the middle-aged man this answer, which he had only managed to think of after racking his brains and searching his guts, the man had already made another move.

Seeing the confusion on Chang An’s face, the man smiled. In the next instant, he suddenly thrust the blade forward. That ordinary old blade, even bearing traces of rust, shot out at a bizarre angle with astonishing speed. It seemed as though it split the oncoming wind in two. The sharp blade-wind swept past Chang An’s sideburns. He heard a shrill whistle, yet could not even see where the blade’s edge was.

Chang An’s eyes lit up instantly. Yet instead of looking at the blade itself, he stared unblinkingly at the man’s shoulders, waist, and wrists.

This was a principle he had discovered after a long time secretly learning from others. When a humanoid attacked, the most important movements were usually concentrated in those three places.

The middle-aged man lowered his head and smiled. « This is a move used only when you are facing a gigantic beast many times larger than yourself. » He placed a hand on Chang An’s head. « Did you see it clearly? If you're even a little too slow, every path of attack will be sealed off by your opponent. One swipe of its claw is enough to kill you. So you only have this fleeting opportunity. You must be fast—fast enough to cut its throat before its claws and fangs come down. Other than that, there is no follow-up move. »

Standing on tiptoe, Chang An accepted the blade with both hands (NT: in sign of respect). He copied the man’s posture: right foot stepping back, body leaning slightly forward.

However, he did not slash downward like the man had done. He knew he did not possess such strength.

Instead, he lightly pushed off the ground with the tip of his foot, using the momentum of his movement. Then he dropped his shoulder, raised the blade, and used the power of his waist to drive the sharp edge forward.

Hmm... something seemed wrong.

Seeing this, the middle-aged man shook his head and was just about to say something.

Yet Chang An did not even lift his head. He stepped back several paces and adjusted his posture once more.

This time, the precision of his movement was far greater. The instant he thrust out the blade’s tip, he twisted his body slightly sideways, perfectly compensating for the lack of strength in his wrist.

Now the middle-aged man fell silent, his gaze fixed firmly on Chang An.

The little rascal stood there thinking for a while, then retreated again. Casually wiping the sweat from his brow, he took a deep breath. Once more he ran forward, raised the blade, turned sideways, and delivered the strike.

Then came a low buzz. A subtle vibration rippled through the air.

The force of the blade carried Chang An stumbling three or four steps forward before he barely managed to steady himself. His eyes sparkled brightly, and a childlike smile spread across his face.

The middle-aged man saw clearly what had happened. This time, the little fellow had cleverly stomped hard on the ground, transmitting force from his feet to his waist. During the instant he turned sideways, that force spread through his entire body and drove the blade forward.

Though in the eyes of an adult beastman, the strength behind the strike was still almost negligible, it was already the greatest power such a small child could possibly produce.

At last, the middle-aged man believed Chang An’s words. Even if he merely lay hidden in the grass watching others practice, he could memorize every move perfectly.

He simply... had been born for weapons like this.

The middle-aged man stepped forward and grabbed Chang An’s arm. Then he felt along the boy’s bones and muscles.

A moment later, he froze slightly. After examining Chang An’s complexion more carefully, disappointment suddenly appeared on his face.

It was one thing that this child was a sub-beastman who could not transform into a beast. But his health was also terribly poor. Even without pressing his ear against Chang An’s chest, the man could feel the violently racing heartbeat that refused to calm down. The force of it even made the child’s entire body tremble slightly.

Sure enough, the smile had not yet faded from Chang An’s face when he suddenly began coughing as though he could no longer catch his breath.

The middle-aged man sighed. Gently wiping the sweat from Chang An’s forehead, he said with regret deeper than anyone else's, « Child, you simply don't have that fate. »

With natural talent like this, what did it matter if he was clever?

Looking at his condition, this little sub-beastman had been born weak. Simply growing up safely and reaching adulthood would already be difficult enough. How could he possibly wield a knife?

At this rate, even when fully grown, being able to barely lift a thin blade weighing thirty jin would already be remarkable. It would place enormous strain on his wrists, and over time even damage his bones.

As for a cavalry sabre weighing over a hundred jin? That would be entirely out of the question.

Chang An had no idea what he meant. He looked at the disappointed middle-aged man with a face full of confusion.

The man silently stood up, slung his herb basket onto his back once more, and without saying another word turned toward Yufeng Mountain.

Children of the tribe had been warned by their fathers since childhood never to venture onto Yufeng Mountain. According to the stories, the mountain paths were extremely dangerous. Some places were infested with poisonous insects and man-eating plants. Others were buried beneath snow. The mountain also housed countless terrifying monsters. Even the bravest beastman hunters and warriors dared not provoke them.

Holding his battered blade, Chang An stood there and wondered: Does this man live on Yufeng Mountain? Then he must be incredibly, incredibly powerful, right?

At that moment, a sudden warmth spread beneath his nose. Two drops of blood trickled down and landed on his clothes.

Chang An was not surprised at all.

With practiced ease as familiar as driving a light carriage along a known road, he tilted his head back and wiped away the blood beneath his nose with the back of his hand.

Whenever he became tired, he was prone to nosebleeds. It was nothing new. He had long grown accustomed to it.

*

Hua Yi rarely had the opportunity to travel with his father, and he was in exceptionally high spirits. He constantly greeted people around him until his father shot him a fierce glare, after which he quietly restrained himself.

The Snow Wolf Chief rolled his eyes toward the sky and thought: How disgraceful.

Then the Vulture Chief strode over.

The two chiefs exchanged a great big embrace and slapped each other on the shoulders, each forcibly squeezing out an affectionate smile—as though they were brothers who had been separated for many years.

These "brothers" first praised each other's sons before quietly sizing up the other side's people.

The Vulture Chief thought, Barely over a hundred of them. If they dare cause trouble, we'll kill them right here. With the Snow Wolves left leaderless like a flock of wolves without a leader, what trouble could they possibly stir up?

The Snow Wolf Chief thought, Every one of them is just like their pathetic chief. A bunch who only know how to play the hero beneath the quilt. And they still have the nerve to parade themselves around? Bah!

Then the two men exchanged sweet smiles and walked into the tent with their arms draped over each other's shoulders.

The Vulture Tribe put on a respectable display of hospitality, and Hua Yi felt rather as though he were an honored guest in his own home.

That very evening, the Vulture Tribe held a bonfire feast to welcome their guests from afar. The Vulture Chief’s youngest daughter, A Zhi, performed a dance before the crowd.

Girls could not transform into beasts, could not hunt, and rarely possessed the strength of sub-beastmen for manual labour or craftsmanship. Only by marrying a beastman and gaining someone to depend upon could they survive comfortably.

Thus, beauty, decent cooking skills, and needlework were their only truly useful assets.

Of course, that depended on whose daughter they were. If she happened to be a chief’s daughter, then even if she were ugly and incapable of doing anything, there would still be plenty of people willing to marry her and keep her comfortably in a tent.

Besides, A Zhi was fortunate. She resembled her mother. Every one of that old lecher’s wives had been a great beauty.

The Snow Wolf Chief glanced at his large, somewhat dim-witted son and suddenly asked, « Hua Yi, do you think A Zhi is pretty? »

Caught off guard, Hua Yi answered, « Y-yes, she's pretty. »

The Snow Wolf Chief refused to let him off so easily. « Tell me. In what way is she pretty? »

Hua Yi frowned and thought hard. After stammering for a while, he said, « She's the prettiest I've ever seen... »

At that moment, he happened to spot A-Que from their tribe sitting in a corner glaring angrily at him. A-Que was the most beautiful girl in the Snow Wolf Tribe and also the chief’s personal musician. Since she was present, the rest of Hua Yi’s sentence became stuck in his throat.

Saying something like that in front of her felt inappropriate. So he hurriedly corrected himself, « She's the prettiest... just as pretty as A-Que, who's the prettiest. »

« Oh? » The Snow Wolf Chief asked, « Then if it were A-Que and A Zhi, which one would you like? »

The hidden meaning behind the question was unmistakable.

The musicians stopped playing. Everyone around them became thoughtful. The Vulture Chief stroked the few sparse hairs on his chin while studying Hua Yi thoughtfully.

His second son’s expression, however, darkened. Hua Yi had never expected to be cornered with such a question in public. Sweat immediately broke out across his forehead. He stammered for a long while without producing a coherent answer.

After all, he barely knew A Zhi. He had hardly exchanged more than a few words with A-Que either. How could he possibly talk about liking one and not liking the other? He liked neither of them!

Still, while Hua Yi was honest, he was not truly stupid. He knew that saying such a thing aloud would offend several people at once. Displaying a flash of quick wit, he lowered his head and simply pretended to be foolish. « I like both of them. But I'm not a great beauty myself, so in any case, neither of them would like me. »

The moment those words left his mouth, everyone present—including the Vulture Chief—burst out laughing.

Silently stuffing a piece of roasted meat into his mouth, Hua Yi felt rather gloomy. Not because his father’s question had embarrassed him publicly. Rather, because he vaguely sensed that his father's words concealed another meaning.

He knew he had never been particularly favoured by his father. He was not clever. His second brother was the one his father truly valued.

But although Hua Yi rarely spoke of such matters, he understood more than people thought.

The Vulture Chief's gaze lingered briefly on the silver markings on Hua Yi's hand, and a thoughtful look appeared on his face.

Then he smiled. « A half-grown lad sitting among us old men must be bored stiff. A Zhi, why don't you take your Fourth Brother Hua Yi around the tribe and show him the sights? »

Hua Yi stared blankly for a moment and then turned to look at his father.

The Snow Wolf Chief cursed, « If you want to go, then go. Why are you looking at me? Do you have to ask your father about everything? Do you still need to drink milk? »

That was clearly permission for him to go...

Reluctantly, Hua Yi put down the roasting tongs. He knew that if he dared say he did not want to go, it would be tantamount to slapping both his father and the Vulture Chief in the face. His father would certainly make his buttocks blossom like flowers.

So he responded with an « Oh », maintained his usual blank, expressionless face, and absent-mindedly followed A Zhi away, all the while still thinking about the half piece of roasted meat he had not finished.

What could be done about it? A simpleton was still a simpleton. He came to understand things later than other people.

Fourteen-year-old Hua Yi, when faced with the choice between a little beauty whom he did not yet know what use to make of and a piece of roasted meat sizzling with dripping fat, would undoubtedly choose the latter.

 

Translator : DarNan