Jiang Wulang

At Blissful Retreat, Jiang Wulang drank alone, as he often did, savoring the silence that came with moonlight. Word of his impending departure had somehow reached the Young Master, who rushed over, begging to be taken along on his journey beyond Heaven's Pier. Jiang Wulang took a slow sip of wine and replied offhandedly, "If you can go, then go yourself." Overjoyed, the Young Master spent the next three days strutting around, telling everyone he met that a new hero was about to rise in the jianghu. The tale, of course, eventually made its way to Han Xiangxun. When the day came, the Young Master brought snacks and toys and set off with great fanfare. Only to spot Han Xiangxun and Jiang Wulang waiting at the ferry. Outraged, the Young Master shouted that Jiang Wulang had already given permission to enter the jianghu, and he demanded to know why Han Xiangxun was here, too. Jiang Wulang answered calmly, "I said you can go, if you have the ability. But if Han Xiangxun catches you this easily, then clearly, you can't." Before the Young Master could fire back, Han Xiangxun had already grabbed his collar and hauled the would-be hero away. The small boat soon pushed off from the shore, ripples fanning out across the water. Jiang Wulang stood watching as the two figures grew smaller until they faded into the distance.

During the autumn of the second year of Kaiyun, Jiang Yan and Chen Zixi managed to steal a rare moment of leisure. Deep in a mountain bamboo grove, the two shared a quiet drink. The sorghum wine, brewed by villagers nearby, was harsh on the tongue and tinged with sourness. Jiang took a few sips before setting his cup down in disappointment. He lamented how the world's turmoil had robbed winemakers of heart and purpose, leaving even a good drink hard to come by. But Chen Zixi was not like Jiang Yan. Even with such crude wine, he sipped slowly from his small cup, savoring it with care. "This wine, this moment, and a friend beside me. Isn't that enough to make it fine? What good is the finest drink, if there's no one to share it with?" Seeing that Jiang Yan did not answer, Chen Zixi raised his cup and laughed. "Well then, at least you still have me."

As a boy, Jiang Yan once walked the streets with Wang Qing when they spotted a thief stealing purses from passing travelers. Wang sprang into action and caught the criminal. Passersby praised him and called him a true hero. Jiang, eyes wide with admiration, declared that one day he too would be known across the land, a great hero all would call "Great Hero Jiang." Wang Qing asked what would he do next after he fulfilled his dream, and Jiang Yan said to protect him. Wang paused for a long moment. "There was once someone who said the same to me. You two are quite alike." "Really?! Did he succeed? Did he become a great hero?" "He did."

When you were young, you were captivated by the tassels on the sword hilts of martial artists, and pestered Uncle Jiang for one. But he ignored you as if he hadn't heard. During sword practice, you'd stare blankly at the bare pommel, your mind filled with images of swaying tassels. Uncle Jiang would say with a stern face, "Your swordsmanship is lacking, yet you fixate on such trivialities." He punished you with a thousand practice swings, lasting until the sun set. That day, you didn't even have the spirit to sulk and fell straight asleep. The next morning, you were astonished to find a brand new tassel tied to the pommel by an unknown hand. Overjoyed, you showed it off everywhere. As you grew older, that small sword no longer suited you, and along with it, the tassel faded from memory. Only upon seeing it again today did you realize someone had treasured it all along, letting it gather dust only as the old residence fell into disrepair. Perhaps because the longing was never severed by time, after countless twists and turns, it finally returned to your hands.