The Reticent Blade-Chapter 283 - History of the Flying Mallard

The elderly couple had claimed that there were no beds, but that was clearly just an excuse the old man had used to try to turn them away.

With the silver as a guarantee, the old man and woman cleared out a small room by the time the three finished eating. It seemed to have been used for storing miscellaneous items.

After a quick discussion, they decided to give the room to Chi Nanwei, the only woman among them. Ye Beizhi and Fang Dingwu planned to stay in the small woodshed in the yard for the night.

The old man brought sets of bedding into the woodshed for Ye Beizhi and Fang Dingwu. Rubbing his hands awkwardly, he said apologetically, "I’m sorry, gentlemen. This is all we have."

"It’s fine, it’s fine." Fang Dingwu waved his hand dismissively. "We’re not pampered young masters. You don't need to apologize."

The old man smiled and left, not forgetting to close the door behind him.

Fang Dingwu plopped down onto the bedding and stretched lazily. "Hah, finally we can rest."

After sitting for a while, Fang Dingwu started squirming uncomfortably. Ye Beizhi glanced at him sideways. Fang Dingwu sheepishly said, "This journey has been tough. I’m feeling all dirty and uncomfortable."

Ye Beizhi nodded and suddenly said, "There’s a well in the yard."

Fang Dingwu’s eyes lit up. "Now that sounds good! A quick rinse and it’ll be much better!" He then winked at Ye Beizhi. "Brother, how about going together?"

Ye Beizhi thought for a moment, then nodded. He was uncomfortable with all the grime on his body too.

The two of them stepped out of the woodshed and asked the old man for two washcloths and a wooden tub. They began to wash in the yard. To avoid arousing suspicion, Chi Nanwei stayed inside and didn’t come out.

The two of them took off their shirts, draped towels over their shoulders, and drew water from the well.

Ye Beizhi loosened his hair, which cascaded down to his waist. After travelling and fighting across the country, his hair had become too long and somewhat messy.

This was the first time Fang Dingwu saw Ye Beizhi’s bare torso, and he couldn’t help but take a sharp breath. His chest was covered with numerous crisscrossing scars from knife wounds, sword cuts, spear injuries, and more. Some of the scars were clearly old, but the massive red and tender horizontal wound across his left ribs was likely a recent injury.

The overlapping scars told a terrifying story, making anyone who looked at them feel a sense of trepidation.

Despite the multitude of scars on Ye Beizhi’s body, most were on his front, with very few on his back. Fang Dingwu knew that Ye Beizhi had once been a soldier in the military, so he understood why. Scars on the front were marks of bravery, while those on the back symbolized shame. Only those who had never turned their backs to flee in battle could survive and be honored with such a distinction.

"Brother..." Fang Dingwu swallowed nervously and couldn't keep himself from asking, "How many people... have you killed?"

Ye Beizhi paused in wringing out the towel, thought for a moment, and then answered, "Too many."

The meaning of those two words was vague. Fang Dingwu had no idea how many Ye Beizhi considered too many to be. However, he knew that it was more than he could imagine. He turned his head toward the well, where Ye Beizhi’s Tang blade leaned against the wall. Even now, Ye Beizhi's blade was never out of an arm's reach.

Fang Dingwu asked, "Brother, why did you join the Ghostbane Association in the first place? Was it for money?"

The question made Ye Beizhi pause for a moment as his expression grew distant. After a long moment, he muttered, "Back then... it wasn’t like I wanted to join..."

***

Within the Yanchi Pass, a soldier responsible for delivering food whispered outside a tent, "That man hasn’t had any food or drink for two days... What’s wrong with him?"

The soldier on duty replied, "I'm not sure either, but I heard he's the only one left alive from the Flying Mallard Battalion..."

"Flying Mallard Battalion..." The soldier bringing the food suddenly understood. "I think I've heard about it. It was tragic... Five hundred people threw their lives away in the Gobi Desert. The blood turned the sand red..."

"Shh." The soldier on duty lowered his voice. "Quiet down. There weren't five hundred. Isn't there still one here in this room?"

"Right, right..." The soldier delivering the food also lowered his voice. "But this man hasn’t had anything for two days. If this keeps up..."

"Who knows what’s wrong with him," sighed the soldier on duty. "Forget food and drink, no matter who came to see him, he hasn’t said a word... Well, we’re all soldiers. If you’d seen what he saw, you wouldn’t be much better off either. I reckon he’s traumatized, his mind is still somewhere else...

"But still, we have to take good care of him. Apparently, it’s an order from above. We can't just let him starve to death, or we’ll all be in trouble."

"But if he really won’t eat, we can’t just force-feed him, can we?" The soldier with the food sounded quite distressed. "I don’t know why they still have him here. Just send him to another camp, it’d be easier. If that doesn’t work, just let him take his pay and go back home. Why do we bother with him here?"

Smack!

The soldier on duty outside slapped the food soldier hard and scolded, "Are you trying to get yourself killed? What are you saying? Who gave you the right to talk like this?"

The food soldier mumbled something under his breath and fell silent.

The soldier on duty lowered his voice even further. "Think about it. Even though the Flying Mallard Battalion was wiped out, they did manage to block over a thousand of the Northern Qiang’s cavalry with just five hundred foot soldiers...

"That man is the only one who knows what really happened. How could the higher-ups not want to find out what happened? I heard that an official is coming today to question him. Keep your mouth shut! Don’t let anything slip!"

Ye Beizhi was lying sideways on the bed in the tent, his eyes vacant and unfocused. The conversation outside gradually faded. He held a military-issue blade tightly in his arms. The blade was stained with dried blood.

This was the blade he had struggled to take from his commander’s corpse when he was brought back by the two cavalry scouts the day before.

Memories of scarlet blood and flames, clashing blades, the thunder of hooves, the cries of battle... and a tattered camp flag surged repeatedly in his mind.

Ye Beizhi had no desire to speak. Even if he did, he had no idea what to say or who he should say it to. He spent his time lost in thought, wondering why Niu Dayong had to die, and why he himself had survived. The dead were beyond saving, but the living... what purpose did they serve?

He didn’t know how much time passed before the tent flap was lifted once again and a figure walked in.

That's not the soldier who brings food, Ye Beizhi thought, not smelling the scent of food.

The figure stood by the bed for a while, not intending to speak, as though carefully observing Ye Beizhi. Ye Beizhi’s eyes remained unfocused, unperturbed by the presence of the stranger.

Suddenly, the person in front of the bed flicked their wrist!

Whoosh—

A small, slender sleeve sword slid out from the stranger’s sleeve.

Ye Beizhi’s pupils flickered slightly.

A flash of cold light streaked through the tent as the sleeve sword plunged toward Ye Beizhi’s face!

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦