Chapter 3 — The Abyssal King Returns

Nghê Thục Di was on her way back from an evening patrol around the edge of the forest, a habit she had kept for many years to ensure there were no wild animals or crooks lurking near the town, when she encountered that scene: a man lying on the side of the road under an old banyan tree, a small girl crying beside her, calling helplessly.

She did not hesitate for a moment. Urging the horse to gallop forward, Thục Di jumped down, knelt next to the man, placed two fingers on his wrist to feel his pulse the way her master had taught. The pulse was weak but still regular, the breathing was shallow but not interrupted. She breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to calm the crying child.

"Don't be afraid, your father is just exhausted, his life is not in danger. What is your name?"

"I... I'm Tiểu Yên." The girl sobbed between tears, but still tried to answer, her eyes never leaving her father's pale face.

"Okay, good Tiểu Yên, let me take you and your father back to my place, it's warmer there, I'll take care of your father," Thục Di said, her voice was gentle but firm, her hands quickly took off her coat and wrapped it around the child's shoulders, who was shivering from the cold.

She called two more people from the patrol team to help her. She carefully placed Bách Uyên on the horse's back, holding him tightly with one hand so he wouldn't fall on the way home. Tiểu Yên was picked up by her and sat in front of her, hugging her tightly as if clinging to the only remaining support in the midst of a panic.

Chung Diệu Nga's martial arts studio is located at the end of the main street of Vân Khê Trấn, a row of simple but sturdy wooden houses, a spacious front yard for practicing martial arts, and behind are a few small rooms used as a residence for the disciples and sometimes to receive people who accidentally need help. When Thục Di brought father and daughter home, her master was already waiting at the gate, his sharp eyes scanning the situation in just a moment.

"Bring it into the inner room, I'll take a look." Chung Diệu Nga gave a brief order, the voice of someone used to handling emergency situations.

The old woman checked Bách Uyên's pulse for a long time, her face pensive and saying nothing. This man's pulse was more strange than anyone she had ever met in her life — something was both deep like a bottomless abyss and as fragile as a thread about to break, as if his body once contained some huge source of energy but was now completely depleted, leaving a strange void in the meridians that she had never seen in any ordinary person.

"Master, how is he?" Thục Di asked, busy wiping her body and changing dry clothes for Tiểu Yên next to her.

"Exhaustion from prolonged hunger and cold, plus a recurrence of an old wound in the chest area," Chung Diệu Nga replied, still holding Bách Uyên's wrist. "But his pulse is very strange. I've been smoking medicine for half my life and have never seen a pulse like that."

"How strange?"

"I don't know. It just feels... like feeling the pulse of a mountain that has had its inner core eroded away, leaving only the outer shell." The old woman shook her head and waved her hand. "Okay, let's not talk about that anymore, let me get him some medicine first, we'll talk about other things later." Thục Di nodded, not thinking any more about his master's strange comment. For her, the most important thing right now was saving people, as for their identity or background, she had never placed much importance on that issue. During her years of heroic action throughout Vân Khê Town and surrounding areas, she had helped countless strangers, from poor beggars to merchants who had lost all their possessions on the way, never once demanding to know who they were before taking action.

That's what Master Chung Diệu Nga taught her from the first days of adopting her, when Thục Di was only six years old, orphaned by both parents after a strange epidemic swept through Vân Khê Town that year. The old woman, who at that time was still a famous female gypsy in the area before retiring to open a martial arts studio, happened to pass by and saw the little girl standing next to two newly built graves, helpless. Without any hesitation, she took the girl home to raise her, taught her martial arts, and above all, taught her human morality: "Chivalry is not a big deal, it's simply that when you see someone in trouble, you don't turn your back and leave."

That teaching was deeply ingrained in Thục Di's personality, becoming the guiding principle for all her actions over the past sixteen years. The people of Vân Khê Trấn affectionately call her "blue-shirted female knight", because she always wears a simple blue martial arts uniform whenever she helps, from catching petty thieves at the market, to chasing away small groups of robbers loitering around the area, or simply helping an old woman carry heavy water uphill.

That night, Thục Di stayed beside Bách Uyên's bed, changing the wet towel on his forehead every time his fever rose, and Tiểu Yên fell asleep from exhaustion right after eating a bowl of hot porridge, curled up next to her father on a thick blanket. Looking at the strange man's haggard but still unusually determined face, Thục Di couldn't help but wonder what he had gone through to end up in this miserable situation, leading a small child wandering everywhere.

She noticed that his hands, although covered in callouses of manual laborers, had a strangely long, delicate shape, unlike the hands of a normal farmer or porter. The way he lay, even in a coma, still maintained a strangely neat posture, as if he had been trained through some strict discipline a long time ago.

"Who are you?" She whispered softly, even though she knew the unconscious person in front of her couldn't hear or respond.

Near morning, when the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the window, Bách Uyên stirred, his eyes slowly opening. The first feeling he was aware of was the faint smell of Chinese medicine in the air, followed by the warmth of a thick blanket covering his body, completely different from the coldness of the nights sleeping outdoors he had been accustomed to enduring over the years.

He tried to sit up, but a hand gently placed on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't rush, your body is still very weak and needs more rest." That voice, the same voice he heard in his coma last night, now clearly appeared before his eyes as the face of a young girl, bright and determined eyes, wearing a simple blue martial arts uniform.

"My daughter..." Bách Uyên immediately asked in panic, trying to get up to search.

"The child is sleeping right next to you. He has eaten enough and is healthy again. You can rest assured." Thục Di pointed towards the sleeping Tiểu Yên, then poured a cup of warm water and gave it to him. "Drink some water, then if you feel better, you can eat some thin porridge."

Bách Uyên looked at her daughter sleeping peacefully, a feeling of relief filled his heart, then turned to look at the woman in front of him with eyes of deep gratitude. "Miss benefactor, I... I don't know how to thank you enough."

"There's no need to be so polite." Thục Di smiled lightly and waved her hand. "Seeing someone in trouble but not taking action is the blameworthy thing. You should rest and get better, we'll talk about other things later."

Bách Uyên took the cup of water, drank in small sips, his eyes stopped on the face of the girl in front of him for a long time. During his seven years of wandering around the world, he had met many kind people, but never had anyone made him feel such a strange trust after just the first few words. There was something in her steady gaze, a disinterested honesty, that made him, who had learned to guard against everything over the past seven years, suddenly feel safe.

"My name is Nghê Thục Di." The girl introduced herself, placing her hand on her chest in accordance with Gypsy etiquette. "What about you?"

Bách Uyên paused for a moment. Over the past seven years, he had been accustomed to using fake names every time he stopped in a new land, but for some reason, in front of this girl's straightforward eyes, he did not want to lie, even if it was only half the truth.

"My last name is Nhiếp, my name is Bách Uyên," he replied, only keeping his real name and full name, while his old Venerable Master's identity was kept hidden in his heart. "This is my daughter, Tiểu Yên. We are travelers who lost our way, unfortunately experiencing exhaustion in the middle of the journey. For saving our lives, my daughter and I will always keep your kindness in our hearts."

"For a lost traveler to travel that far with a small child, something must have happened." Thục Di looked at him for a moment, her eyes could not hide the scrutiny, but then she nodded and did not ask further. "Okay, it's your business. If you don't want to talk about it, I won't force you. As long as you're not a bad guy, that's fine."

"Why do you believe a stranger like me isn't a bad guy?" Bách Uyên asked, genuinely curious.

"A bad person does not hug his child so tightly that he is hungry and thirsty to give her food, nor can he maintain such pure eyes when watching his daughter sleep," Thục Di answered frankly, without any hesitation. "My master once taught that by looking at how a person treats those weaker than themselves, you will know what their heart is like."

Bách Uyên was silent, an indescribable feeling rose in his heart. During his seven years living in the human world, he had met all kinds of people, from profiteering scammers to kind people who silently help, but he had never met anyone with such a simple yet profound way of looking at people. He suddenly realized that perhaps it was this sincerity without calculation, not any kind of magic power or authority, that was the most valuable thing this human world could give.

He didn't know her name before, and she also didn't know anything about his true identity. But when Thục Di stood up and turned back outside to get more warm water, Bách Uyên still looked at her silhouette on the door frame for a long time, her hands clasped gently around the empty cup she had just given him as if trying to retain the remaining warmth in her palms. That was the first time after seven years of wandering that he suddenly wanted to know more about a stranger, instead of just hoping they would quickly forget the presence of his father and daughter.