The Reticent Blade-Chapter 259 - Who Hears the Mountain Lament

Ye Beizhi glanced toward the moon gate of the inner courtyard and noticed a shadow flickering slightly. Then Fang Xiuju emerged from behind the wall, carrying a wooden stool—it seemed she had been eavesdropping for a while.

Wang Cuihong instinctively stood up when she saw Fang Xiuju enter. She walked over, took the stool from her hands, and placed it at the table. Only after Fang Xiuju had seated herself did Wang Cuihong sit back down.

Fang Dingwu's disdain for Fang Xiuju deepened as he observed their dynamics. He snorted before turning away.

Fang Xiuju had clearly overheard Fang Dingwu’s earlier remarks while outside. Her expression was sour, but she forced a smile and said, "Apologies for keeping you waiting, Master Ye."

Ye Beizhi placed the stack of silver notes on the table and then set his sword on top to hold them down. He slowly asked, "Where is the master of the house?"

Fang Xiuju’s squinted eyes stared fixedly at the stack of silver notes. When her gaze fell on the Tang sword, she couldn’t help but shrink back slightly. She answered cautiously, "My father-in-law is napping inside, and my husband is out in the fields... but someone has already been sent to call him back."

Ye Beizhi nodded, seemingly unwilling to converse further with Niu Fangshi. He turned to Wang Cuihong and asked, "Where is the battalion commander’s grave?"

The question visibly took Wang Cuihong aback. She hesitated before answering, "It’s... just on the back hill."

Ye Beizhi gave Wang Cuihong a long, meaningful look and said, "I want to pay my respects."

Before Wang Cuihong could respond, a man’s voice called out from outside the courtyard: "What’s the rush calling me back? Where are they?!"

The voice was quickly followed by its owner, who appeared at the entrance. The man wore coarse cloth garments, mud-stained straw sandals, and had his trouser legs rolled up to his knees. He held a hoe in his hand, clearly having just returned from the fields.

The man’s face darkened the moment he saw the group sitting in the inner courtyard. "Goddammit—who let them in?!"

Wang Cuihong and Fang Xiuju both stood up. Seeing the man’s anger, Wang Cuihong looked flustered, while Fang Xiuju quickly stepped forward, grabbing his arm and saying, "This is Master Ye—"

"Master Ye from where?! I don’t know him!" The man still seemed to be fuming.

"Oh, come on—" Fang Xiuju tugged at the man forcefully and whispered in his ear, "The one who sends letters to Cuihong every month—"

"The letters..." The man quickly understood. His expression softened, and he cleared his throat. "Alright, I got it."

The man casually tossed his hoe into a corner and walked over, sitting in Wang Cuihong’s seat. "So—you’re Master Ye, right? I’m Niu Geng. Your visit this time... what’s it about?"

As he spoke, Niu Geng finally noticed the stack of silver notes on the table. His voice gradually trailed off, and a smile appeared on his face. "Oh! Master Ye is truly a distinguished guest—you even brought a gift for our first meeting." He unabashedly reached for the silver notes.

Ye Beizhi remained unresponsive, merely folding his arms and looking at Niu Geng indifferently.

Bang!

A pair of short swords were slammed heavily onto the table, landing squarely in front of Niu Geng’s outstretched hand.

Niu Geng looked up to see a burly man with broad shoulders and a fierce presence glaring at him with a cold smile. Fang Dingwu sneered, "You’ve got some nerve, huh? Are you taking us for fools? Let me warn you just once—don’t mistake my brother’s courtesy for weakness!"

Niu Geng withdrew his hand sheepishly, forcing an awkward smile. "Heh... no need for such harsh words, good sir."

Fang Xiuju gave Niu Geng a reproachful slap on the arm and sat down with an apologetic smile. "Master Ye, please don’t take offense. We’re just simple country folk and don’t know much about proper etiquette... please forgive us."

As the two sat down, Wang Cuihong had no choice but to stand behind Niu Geng. Ye Beizhi didn’t respond to anything they said. He merely tapped his fingers on the table, his gaze sweeping back and forth across the three people before him.

Sensing the tense atmosphere and knowing what Ye Beizhi might be thinking, Chi Nanwei quickly stood up and beckoned to Wang Cuihong. "Sister—come, take my seat."

Wang Cuihong waved her hands repeatedly. "It’s alright, it’s alright. I’ll just stand. Sister, please sit back down."

Chi Nanwei couldn’t refuse further, but having already stood up, she felt it would be improper to just sit back down. She glanced at Ye Beizhi, unsure of what to do, while Ye Beizhi fixed his gaze on Niu Geng and Fang Xiuju.

Niu Geng finally realized the situation and scolded Fang Xiuju beside him. "Get up already! Let Cuihong sit—how can you be so clueless?"

Fang Xiuju’s smile froze, but she reluctantly stood up.

Wang Cuihong saw that Ye Beizhi likely wouldn’t continue unless she sat down. She softly thanked Fang Xiuju and gracefully took a seat.

As soon as Wang Cuihong sat down, Ye Beizhi turned to Niu Geng and asked, "The battalion commander’s grave is on the back hill?"

"Yes, yes, it’s on the back hill," Wang Cuihong hurriedly replied.

Ye Beizhi lifted his gaze to look at her and, after a moment, frowned. "During festivals... is he worshipped?"

Wang Cuihong opened her mouth but hesitated to speak. It was Niu Geng who responded instead. "Worship? Of course, he’s worshipped. Every year, plenty of paper money is burned for him. Dayong and I go way back; how could I not honor him?"

Ye Beizhi’s frown deepened. "Then... could you take me there... to pay my respects at the grave?"

Niu Geng waved dismissively. "Dayong’s plaque is in the family shrine. You can pay respects here. Why go all the way out there?"

Ye Beizhi said nothing further. He stood up and bowed to Wang Cuihong, saying, "Sister-in-law, please lead the way."

Wang Cuihong hesitated, glancing at Niu Geng. Fang Dingwu, observing the exchange, smirked coldly and toyed with his twin blades. Niu Geng looked between Fang Dingwu and the silver notes on the table before gritting his teeth and reluctantly motioning for Wang Cuihong to proceed.

As they left the house, Wang Cuihong led the way, explaining as she walked, "We do honor him every year at the ancestral shrine... There are so many plaques there, and during festivals, we burn paper offerings for all of them. No one is forgotten..."

Ye Beizhi didn’t respond, only giving a noncommittal nod.

The "back hill" was more of a small knoll. Following the mountain path upward, they reached it in just over fifteen minutes.

A gentle mountain breeze swept over the hill. Chi Nanwei, who was dressed a bit lightly, shivered involuntarily. Noticing this, Ye Beizhi took out a cloak from his bundle and draped it over her.

Chi Nanwei smiled warmly at him, holding his hand in her palms, and asked softly, "Dummy... are you upset?"

Ye Beizhi gently squeezed her soft hands, smoothed the strands of hair disheveled by the wind, and shook his head with a smile.

"That’s Dayong’s grave..." Wang Cuihong, walking ahead, said aloud.

Ye Beizhi followed her gesture and saw a solitary grave quietly standing on the hillside, facing the village of Niujia Ping below.

Chi Nanwei thought she heard Ye Beizhi let out a soft sigh.

The grave was modest and the tombstone was nothing more than a wooden plaque. Painted in red lacquer were the words: The Grave of My Late Husband, Niu Dayong. The red paint had faded, unable to withstand years of wind and rain. The small grave was weathered and overgrown with weeds, clearly neglected for a long time. Even the soil atop the mound had started to erode.

Ye Beizhi’s feet felt as if they were filled with lead. He walked slowly but finally reached the grave and squatted down, brushing the tall grass aside.

There was no evidence of incense, no wax drippings, and no ashes from burned paper offerings in front of the tombstone.

Only wild weeds grew, unchecked and unrestrained.

"I..." Behind him came Wang Cuihong’s tearful voice, almost breaking. "I married Niu Geng after all... it’s really, really hard for me to come here again... people in the village would gossip..."

"Hmm..." Ye Beizhi responded softly and began pulling out the weeds in front of the grave.

Fang Dingwu said nothing, crouching down to help. Chi Nanwei held Wang Cuihong’s shoulder, comforting her, and Wang Cuihong finally couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. She sobbed against Chi Nanwei’s shoulder.

The wind howled through the mountains, as if carrying the unspoken sorrows of the world.

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