70: Chapter 56: The Youthful Spirit is like the Moonlight_3 70: Chapter 56: The Youthful Spirit is like the Moonlight_3 Who hasn’t had such dreams in their youth, when everyone else feared to move forward, and I alone strived to turn the tide?
In the end, it’s just a youthful notion.
Changsun Wuchou said, “He won’t come to harm.”
Xue Shuangtao nodded slightly, her hands clasped in front of her, standing erect, still abiding by the etiquette of a noble lady’s daughter, but her palms pressed tight together.
It seemed that Changsun Wuchou’s consolation was effective, her emotions greatly relaxed as she said, “It was the Guest Elder who woke me.”
“While Grandfather is out fighting battles, I should not be afraid within these walls; I should do what I am supposed to do.”
“Even if Grandfather commands it, even if he is in danger, the Guest Elders are not allowed to act rashly.”
“I also had no choice but to make such a decision.”
“Had it not been for Li…, had it not been the Guest Elder charging out on his horse, I might still be like those other girls, crying and scared,” she said, “We have known each other for just over a month, yet it feels like a long time.”
Changsun Wuchou understood that it was because Xue Shuangtao had no friends of her own age around her that she felt this way.
Childhood friends are just that, but if they are ordinary people, childhood friendship usually remains at that level.
The friendships of youth, upon growing older, are often separated by the rigid heirarchy and stance of the world.
Merged into a chorus of ‘my lord’ and ‘miss’.
At this moment, he would not speak such disheartening words of an adult.
He simply smiled warmly and said, “What is called ‘white-haired as new, tipping one’s hat as to an old friend.’
Xue Shuangtao laughed and said, “It’s just that he is talented and witty, and also brave, always obsessed with wealth, which is beyond people’s understanding.”
There were noises of hubbub, sounds of congratulations coming through.
Xue Daoyong had returned.
Xue Shuangtao’s eyes lit up; she finally lost her composure, like a girl of fourteen or fifteen, and hurriedly ran over; Changsun Wuchou breathed a sigh of relief.
Seeing Xue Daoyong, Xue Shuangtao’s earlier emotions surged up, nearly on the verge of tears.
It was the identity of the Xue Family that held her back, but she still took two steps as though they were three.
Then she threw herself into the old man’s embrace and said, “Grandfather!”
“You are alright, you’re alright!”
Xue Daoyong patted his granddaughter’s hair, not saying much, his expression complicated.
There were still many people around; Xue Shuangtao suppressed the urge to cry to her dearest person, stepped out from the old man’s embrace, retreated a couple of steps, her eyes darting about.
Not finding another person, she said, “Grandfather, where is Li Guanyi?
He, too, gave chase!”
“Has he not been encountered?”
The old man’s expression was complex, and the other Guest Elders were speechless.
The old man sighed, looking at his granddaughter, he could draw Chen Country’s heaviest bow, release arrows that could penetrate fifty li, and in his youth had traveled as a merchant over tens of thousands of miles.
His spirit allowed him to make moves that could lightly stir the climate of the Western Regions.
Yet in this moment, he couldn’t bring himself to meet his granddaughter’s gaze.
He slowly raised his hand, holding a broken bow.
He placed the bow in Xue Shuangtao’s hands.
Xue Shuangtao recognized this bow, her face visibly paling.
The bow was adorned with golden threads, made of rhinoceros horn, crocodile dragon tendon, and mixed with South Sea fish glue.
Priced at one thousand five hundred and thirty strings of cash.
The bow was broken, with the young man’s fresh blood on it.
There was no need to say anything more.
Xue Shuangtao, clutching the broken Su Ni Bow, staggered a few steps and suddenly sat on the ground.
The emotions she had managed to hold back upon seeing her grandfather finally erupted.
Two streams of feelings converged, and tears fell in large drops.
The image of the young man who had gallantly ridden off on his horse, where righteousness lay, was imprinted at the bottom of her heart.
The impressions of the past rose in her heart at this moment.
And then, just as the moon shone clear, it was branded with death, never to be erased again.
It would be like a palm brushing over a sharp blade; even in old age with white hair, the memory would occasionally resurface and still prickle with pain.
‘Since ancient times, a fair maiden would present a sword to a hero; although I am not any fair maiden, I, too, believe in what Grandfather says, that the gentleman will one day be a hero.’
‘I hereby gift the Su Ni Bow to the gentleman.’
The Su Ni Bow fell to the ground, its broken limbs and string trembling continuously.
The large drops of tears diluted the young man’s spirited blood.