Volume II, Big Summer Dynasty, Chapter 36 : Close mountain like iron

by Xiao Xiang Dong'Er | Translated and Arranged by Angel Chua

From the busy city of Yuan, covered in snow, people traveled from the mountains like iron. The north wind whipped the ground, stirring up feather-like snowflakes that sprinkled onto the people's eyebrows. Among them, an eight-year-old child stood out, wearing an iron-gray cloak with a large hood concealing her delicate features. Her plain white hands gripped a cold dagger, and she showed no fear or weakness as she stood amidst the army.

For the past ten years, the city of Huang had experienced moderate snowfall, but today, the storm was twice as severe as last year. The north wind howled, freezing the people's skin until it turned dry and green, making it difficult for them to see clearly.

Zhuge Yue gave her a cold smile, walking on the other side, and in a slow voice, he asked, "Will you really kill me?"

Snow blew between the two of them as a hideous night owl howled, echoing the cries of those who had suffered injustices. The mist in the darkness of the night seemed like souls screaming in silence. Chu Qiao's eyes grew cold as memories of that dilapidated Chai room, a child's simple smile, and the fragrant smell of pork flashed through her mind like a bomb silently exploding in her heart. She slowly lowered her head, coldly gazing into the fourth young master's eyes, and replied, "You can try."

"Really?" Zhuge Yue's mouth curled into a slight smile, his eyes half-squinting as he chuckled lightly. "Well then."

Suddenly, the young master's body seemed to move uncontrollably as he bowed his head toward the sharp blade in a seemingly suicidal manner, stepping forward as if he meant to impale himself.

"Master! Master!" gasped those around him in shock.

The situation erupted into chaos, but in that moment, time seemed to freeze. With a loud splash, both fell into the river, the water creating ripples as they struggled. Chu Qiao was stunned—who would have thought that this quiet young man would go to such extreme lengths, pretending to commit suicide to avoid being threatened. Her swift reflexes had drawn the dagger near his neck, but it was too late. The blade had already left a small cut, tracing from his neck to his ear, where a tiny bloodstain appeared.

Chu Qiao was still holding the dagger when Zhuge Yue, moving like a slippery loach in the water, suddenly swept her off her feet. In a blur of swift movements, he lifted her as they emerged from the river.

All of this had happened in mere seconds, like a flash of lightning. Zhuge Yue didn't abandon her, yet he seemed like a captor holding his prey. Though his methods were aggressive, they left an impression: he was in control. Drawing his sword from his waist, he pointed it at her with a locked gaze and said coldly, "You cannot kill me."

Blood leaked from his neck, dripping down onto his long fur coat. Although the wound wasn't deep, the sight of blood against his pale skin was striking. Zhu Cheng, one of his men, ran toward him in a panic, shouting, "Fourth young master, you're hurt! We need to get you to a hospital immediately!"

Zhuge Yue's eyes remained fixed on Chu Qiao. Ignoring Zhu Cheng, he took out a pristine white handkerchief, dabbing at the blood on his neck, the crimson droplets blooming on the delicate fabric.

"Master, let me bandage your wound!" Zhu Cheng pleaded.

The pale teenager stood in the vast snow, his expression unreadable. His hand tightened around the blood-stained handkerchief before he suddenly let it fall. The north wind howled, snow began to fall heavier, and somehow, the blood seemed to disappear.

Who would remember that once, this very handkerchief had wiped away someone's tears? The young man's heart was unpredictable, but in that moment, he was one of the few people willing to protect her. As the wind whistled harshly, scattering the scene, it felt like the final act of a play. Who would prevail in the end?

"Victory." Zhuge Yue's voice was indifferent as he turned around, cold and devoid of emotion.

Zhuge family guards gathered, while Chu Qiao stood amidst them, drawing a long sword. Its blade gleamed, reflecting her cold, iron-like eyes. There was calmness in her demeanor, but also hatred and a calculated view of the situation. There was no drastic determination, but she stood alone, without weakness or regret.

She had always known how to survive, how to take her own blood and use it against those she hated. She had always known how to repay kindness. So when Zhuge Yue cut off her ninth sister's arm and threw her to the Jile Pavilion, and when his family's rod killed her fifth brother and her eldest sister Ju Xiang, she understood that they were destined to be enemies. It was either Chu Qiao would kill Zhuge Yue, or Zhuge Yue would kill her. There was no other way.

"Yahhhh!" Her thirst for justice surged in front of the crowd, and the Zhuge family's guards no longer dared to underestimate the child. Heroes gathered to attack. Swords clashed, cold steel flashing in the night. Chu Qiao's small frame moved with agility, her legs kicking and spinning. Her long sword soaked in blood, she swiftly struck down several guards.

Though fierce, her young body was still vulnerable. A slash from a guard's dagger tore her shoulder, causing blood to gush out. This was her first battle, and she had been injured.

Zhuge family guards, seeing her injury, grew confident. Despite her intelligence, flexibility, and courage, she was still an eight-year-old child, outmatched by seasoned military men.

Realizing this, the guards swarmed her. Zhuge Yue stood outside the fray, his eyes cold and distant. His lips had turned a pale blue, and Zhu Cheng, desperate to stop his bleeding, had no gauze left to bandage his wounds.

"Drive! Yah!" The sound of hooves suddenly pierced the chaos, coming from the north.

Everyone turned to see riders charging from the distance, their horses swift as meteors. Leading the group was a young man in white fur with pitch-black hair. Armed with a bow, he shot down several Zhuge family guards with deadly accuracy.

"Hey, little girl!" The young man's horse reared up, scattering the crowd. Without warning, he scooped Chu Qiao up and placed her on the horse in front of him, his eyes bright as he laughed. "How many times do I have to save you? How will you repay me this time?"

Chu Qiao, annoyed, sheathed her sword and glared at him. "Are you crazy? Haven't you learned your lesson not to come back? Do you have a death wish?"

"If I hadn't come back, what would have happened to you?" Yan Xun shot her a glance. "Hold tight!" With a fierce whip, the horse charged forward, leaping over the crowd.

"Yan Xun!" Zhuge Yue shouted angrily, disheveled and furious. "This is none of your business!"

Yanbei soldiers rode in like a storm, their leader, Yan Xun, with Chu Qiao in his arms. As they galloped away, Yan Xun laughed. "Zhuge Yue, fourth son! Yan Xun appreciates your courtesy today. But don't worry—there's always a next time. Until then!"

Zhuge Yue stood fuming, his few remaining men injured and scattered. Yanbei soldiers vanished into the northern winds, leaving Zhuge Yue behind.

"Fourth young master!" Zhu Cheng exclaimed as he saw Zhuge Yue's injury worsen. Furious and unreasonable, Zhuge Yue climbed onto his horse, ordering his remaining men to follow him as he rode off into the vast snow, disappearing into the night.

AC Afterthoughts:

In this chapter, we see Chu Qiao's resilience and her ability to suppress emotions for survival despite her young age. Zhuge Yue is portrayed as a dominant, manipulative figure, willing to risk his life to maintain control over the situation. Yan Xun's intervention adds a lighter, yet heroic, contrast, hinting at his deeper connection with Chu Qiao and rivalry with Zhuge Yue.

The central theme is survival in a harsh, unforgiving world, where each character fights for control. The snowstorm and blood symbolize the brutal reality they face. The unresolved ending points to future conflict, emphasizing that in their world, there are no clear victors—only survivors.