Chapter Sixty-Nine: Young Lord, Do You Have Wine?

At this time, the customs were open-minded, and it was not uncommon for women of Qi to practice swordsmanship. Because of their inherent physical disadvantage, they often favored a light and graceful style, which, though elegant, was not very effective in real combat. As such, no one would ever think that Liu Xiazhi was afraid to accept a challenge.

Guo Yuan, worried that Liu Xiazhi might be careless, said earnestly, “Brother Jing, don’t underestimate my little sister. In past years, many brave warriors were defeated by her in martial contests.”

How could he look down on her? Ever since he’d been trounced by Su’er, Liu Xiazhi felt a chill whenever he saw a woman with a sword. He hurriedly waved his hands. “I admit defeat, I admit defeat.”

Guo Yuan’s younger sister thought he was merely being polite, her expression turned cold. Pressing her hand to her sword hilt, she saluted, “Zisu requests your guidance, sir,” and promptly thrust her sword forward.

A true expert’s skill is evident from the first move. Zisu’s sword was neither quite a thrust nor a slash; the tip wavered unpredictably, exuding the aura of a master. But in Meng Di’s eyes, it was clear she posed no real threat to Liu Xiazhi.

After dodging a few strikes, Liu Xiazhi understood her style and began to toy with her. Shouting and leaping about, he always managed to evade her attacks by the slimmest of margins.

At first, Guo Yuan was puzzled, thinking his sister’s swordsmanship had improved. But as time passed, he realized Liu Xiazhi was merely playing with her, and he could only smile bitterly, hoping his sister would recognize her limits and retreat.

Zisu grew frustrated at her opponent, who not only dodged but also kept up a string of irreverent banter. Although he seemed flustered, he always managed to evade her perfectly, which made her grit her teeth and grip her sword ever tighter.

“Miss Zisu, shall we call it a draw?” Liu Xiazhi, growing bored, suggested with a smile. Guo Yuan chimed in to support the proposal.

Zisu refused to answer and pressed on relentlessly. Yet her sword grew sluggish, and beads of sweat began to glisten on her brow.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached. Guo Yuan turned, quickly pulled Meng Di along to meet the newcomers, and addressed the leading man: “Father.”

This was none other than Guo Xia, one of Qi’s two chief ministers. Meng Di bowed in greeting as well.

Guo Xia nodded, then looked toward the two still locked in combat and grunted, “What’s going on here?”

“Brother Jing, come pay your respects to Master Guo Xia,” Meng Di called.

Liu Xiazhi, having had enough fun, was unwilling to strike seriously and was just looking for a chance to escape Zisu’s entanglement. Seeing his opportunity, he leaped out of the circle and, imitating Meng Di, stepped forward to bow.

Guo Yuan was about to introduce him when, with a sharp hiss, the tip of a sword emerged from Liu Xiazhi’s chest.

A thunderous, earth-shaking howl erupted. Before anyone could react, Liu Xiazhi yanked out the sword, turned, and brought it down in a vicious slash.

The blade halted abruptly at the tip of Zisu’s nose, unable to go any further. Zisu stood there, hair disheveled, eyes blank, as if paralyzed by fear.

Liu Xiazhi gave a self-deprecating smile and muttered, “To think I’d die by a woman’s hand.” His strength gave out, and he swayed unsteadily as his sword clattered to the floor.

Meng Di, sword in one hand and supporting Liu Xiazhi with the other, quickly inspected the wound. Fortunately, Zisu’s sword was extremely thin and narrow; though it had pierced through, there was not much bleeding. If no vital organs were struck, there might still be a glimmer of hope.

“Hurry, fetch a physician!” Meng Di barked at the dumbstruck Guo Yuan.

“Protect the young lady!” The guards finally snapped to attention, rushing forward to shield Zisu. Guo Xia strode over and, seeing his daughter unharmed, relaxed. He waved his hand and commanded coldly, “Take them away. Life or death, it matters not.”

“Father!” Guo Yuan, regaining his senses, dropped to his knees and pleaded, “Brother Han and Brother Jing are my invited guests. Please show mercy.”

“Hmph. They frightened my daughter—an unforgivable crime.” Guo Xia looked gently at the dazed Zisu, then spoke coldly.

“So the mighty Guo clan values human life less than grass?” Meng Di could bear it no longer and shouted loudly.

Guo Xia turned at the voice, frowning. Guo Yuan had not yet introduced this man, so he was unaware of his background. But in Qi, regardless of who he was, daring to defy him openly was courting death.

“Father, it was all an accident. Brother Jing meant my sister no harm,” Guo Yuan pleaded again.

Zisu’s eyes cleared, and she gently tugged at her father’s sleeve, whispering, “I was the one who forced him to fight. He is not to blame.”

Guo Xia’s gaze softened. Stroking his daughter’s hair affectionately, he nodded and instructed the maids to take Zisu to rest, then turned to Guo Yuan, “Since your sister is unharmed, handle this matter as you see fit.”

“Father…” Zisu dared not look at Liu Xiazhi, but whispered, “He was wounded for no reason. I feel uneasy. May I stay and help with his treatment?”

“That’s a doctor’s job. What help could you possibly offer?” Guo Xia glared at the nearby maids. “Take the young lady away at once!”

He shot a cold look at Meng Di, who still held his sword, and spoke to the leader of the arriving guards, “If anything unusual happens, kill them without hesitation. Do not let the young master suffer the slightest harm.” With that, he hurried away.

He had come rushing from the army camp that night for a matter of utmost importance and could not spare more time here.

Guo Yuan, always cowed by his father’s authority, only relaxed once his father and sister had left. He immediately sent for a physician.

There were physicians within the Guo household. When summoned, they came quickly, medical kits in hand. Upon examining the wound, one drew a sharp breath and said grimly, “The sword has gone straight through—no medicine can cure this.”

“It looks like there’s not much blood because the sword is plugging the wound. If it’s pulled out, he’ll die instantly. But if it’s left in, nothing can be done to treat him,” the physician sighed. “While he’s still lucid, you’d best prepare his affairs.”

“Is there truly nothing that can be done?” Meng Di asked in disappointment. In his previous life, the Han army had greatly valued medicine, and he had witnessed countless miraculous recoveries in the military. Liu Xiazhi was still conscious and not bleeding profusely; it seemed no vital organs had been struck. Such a sword wound was not necessarily fatal.

“Brother Han, the physicians in my house are the best Qi has to offer. If he says it cannot be treated, not even the imperial doctors could help,” Guo Yuan said with a heavy heart. “This is my fault—I failed Brother Jing.”

He turned and bowed deeply to Liu Xiazhi, his words full of guilt.

Meng Di was helpless. It was hardly Guo Yuan’s fault—was he to ask for his sister’s life in exchange? Clearly, that was impossible.

Liu Xiazhi laughed heartily, “Why so maudlin, Guo Yuan? To die by the sword is a man’s fate—better that than to waste away in bed.” As he spoke, he tugged at his wound and grimaced in pain.

The physician, who had been racking his brains, suddenly brightened. “Master, perhaps there is hope for this man!”

“Speak!” Guo Yuan and Meng Di exclaimed together.

“He can still talk, so his organs are likely unharmed, and the loss of blood is minor. I cannot cure him, but if we could summon the divine healer Bian Que, there might be a way.”

“Bian Que!”

“Yes, his real name is Qin Yueren. He’s said to bring the dead back to life and is revered as the incarnation of the ancient sage physician. If we can keep him alive until Bian Que arrives, there may truly be a chance.”

Meng Di’s mind raced—he’d long heard of Bian Que’s legendary name. Back in Sui, he had even borrowed the healer’s reputation to bluff the High Shaman Zuo She with pulse diagnosis. He quickly asked, “Where is the divine healer now?”

“Last I heard, he is traveling in Qi, practicing medicine near Linzi.”

Everyone was greatly encouraged by this. The most urgent matter was to stabilize the wound, which the Guo physicians handled with skill, instructing the guards to carry Liu Xiazhi to a quiet chamber and applying medicinal powder to staunch the bleeding.

As he stared at the sword tip still sticking out of his chest, Liu Xiazhi couldn’t help but smile wryly. If Bian Que didn’t come for a day, would he have to spend it skewered like this? Suddenly he recalled how game was roasted over a spit in the wild, and his appetite stirred. He asked sheepishly, “Master Guo, do you have any wine?”