Beginning with the Ubume Bird

Chapter 51: Chapter 5 Encounter? Encounter?! Encounter!

Editor: Larbre Studio

Snowflakes danced and twirled, draping a thin layer upon the dark mountain rocks.

Heavy footsteps crunched upon the ground, making a creaking noise.

Li Yan’s steps halted.

“My lord, what’s… huh?”

Deng Tianxiong’s words came to an abrupt stop.

The overburdened dry branches on the trees snapped under the weight, and the accumulated snow rustled down, revealing a fenced farmhouse to everyone’s surprise.

“Tianxiong, how long have we been walking?”

“A whole day, we have already reached the middle of the mountain.”

“No village ahead, no store behind. We walked to the middle of the mountain, wishing for some wolf dung to warm ourselves, yet here we see a household.”

Li Yan pondered for a while; by this time, a pale crescent moon had appeared in the sky, and everyone’s cotton robes were like paper mache, utterly unable to withstand the wind and snow.

Compared to frostbite, the so-called Mountain Ghosts seemed not so frightening after all.

“Let’s go, take a look.”

Everyone adjusted their clothes, their expressions guarded; in the wild mountains, the sudden appearance of a farmhouse would make anyone uneasy.

Approaching the farmhouse, Song Translator called out loudly, but unexpectedly, a delicate face appeared at the door!

The woman had long hair coiled into a bun, with rosy cheeks. Her thin linen winter clothes could not conceal her graceful figure, and her big watery eyes looked curiously at the people.

“Heh heh, this lass looks really spirited.”

Diao Xiayan spoke with a feigned voice, his words laced with an unmistakable wariness.

Wild mountains, snowy night, a woman living alone.

A fine story.

“Uncle Diao,” Wang Sheng murmured softly, “I heard from my mother, when traveling in heavy snow, there may be a martens that transforms into a woman. If you don’t harbor ill intent, she’ll turn you into stone, but if you do, she’ll gouge out your heart and liver~”

Song Translator stepped forward and bowed deeply, speaking to the woman.

After some time, he returned to Li Yan and said:

“She says she lives alone and agrees to let us stay for the night.”

He lowered his voice as he spoke.

“Something’s not right.”

“Even a blind man could see that.”

Li Yan replied coldly.

The people filed in, and the crackling fire brought a wave of warmth to everyone inside the house.

The bright oil lamp lit up the whole room; the fire in the center blazed fiercely, with a pot hanging over it, cooking taro and the like.

“That big pot, the young lady can’t finish it herself, can she?”

Li Yan smirked, raising an eyebrow.

The woman, not understanding Li Yan’s words, just smiled reservedly. She scooped a full bowl from the pot and handed it over to Li Yan, her loose winter clothing gaping at the chest, revealing her creamy collarbones, her smile enchanting.

The men stared intently at the woman, with the impatient Wang Sheng even reaching for his firearm.

Li Yan watched her for a while, then suddenly burst into laughter, seizing the woman’s slender wrist. Ignoring the soup that spilled all over, he forcefully pulled her into his embrace, his hand wandering freely over her legs.

The woman instinctively struggled, and a chill flashed deep in Li Yan’s eyes as he whispered beside her ear:

“Miss has been living in the deep mountains for so long, must be very lonely. We from Ming Country have traveled a long way, just right to ease the lady’s chamber loneliness…”

“Slap!”

Deng Tianxiong grimaced, touching his face and swallowing his saliva.

The woman’s eyes were red and swollen, her body trembling with rage, and with a lifted hand, a stark red handprint remained on Li Yan’s face.

She retreated continuously and rushed into the inner room, locking the door behind her.

“…”

Li Yan raised his head and spoke with all seriousness:

“Everyone take turns keeping watch. We leave at dawn, and if all goes well, we should walk out of She Mountain before dark tomorrow.”

“My lord, about the woman…”

“We leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

Deng Tianxiong wisely kept his mouth shut.

“Gurgle~”

All eyes fell on Wang Sheng.

Wang Sheng’s face turned red.

A soldier laughed and scooped up a bowl for Wang Sheng.

“Hold on.”

Li Yan suddenly spoke up, frowning thoughtfully for a moment. He pulled out a pancake from his bosom, tore a piece off, and threw it to Wang Sheng.

“Eat this.”

The others exchanged glances and nodded in agreement.

Wang Sheng caught it and looked around.

“What are you looking at, kid? If General Li tells you to eat, just eat,” Diao Xiayan scolded with a laugh.

Wang Sheng scratched his head, feeling a bit embarrassed, and squatted in the corner tearing small bites off the tough, rigid pancake.

Bubbles gently simmered from the iron pot, and the aroma of the grains dispersed, yet no one spoke a word.

Li Yan swept his eyes across the group, glancing over everyone’s resolute yet silent expressions, feeling somewhat moved.

This place might not seem as dangerous as the life-and-death perils of the ring, but Li Yan couldn’t afford to relax for even a moment. Surviving in the ring required skills, but to break out from here, to stay alive on the battlefields in the coming days, those skills were far from enough.

The deep trust in the eyes of these soldiers weighed heavily on Li Yan’s heart.

“General Li, while we have a fire going, I’ll go out and get some clean ice blocks. We can melt them into water for everyone to drink on the road.”

Diao Xiayan suddenly spoke up.

“Uncle Diao, you rest, I’ll go,” a burly soldier stood up, slapping his palms together.

Others chimed in, but Diao Xiayan was not having any of it and merely glanced at the soldier.

“Are you implying that I’m too old to even manage this simple task?”

“Uncle Diao, how can you say that… With your injury…”

“Injury my ass. You look big and strong, but if we were to try it out, I bet I could take you down. Believe it or not?”

“No, it’s not that—You’re being unreasonable. I meant well…”

Diao Xiayan waved his hand dismissively and looked towards Li Yan with his one eye.

“General Li, what do you say?”

Li Yan looked outside at the snow that was slowly coming to a stop and said, “Be back before it gets dark.”

“Got it,” Diao Xiayan said, grabbing his saber and heading outside.

“Uncle Diao.”

Wang Sheng, with his cheeks still bulging, ran over and handed over his firearm.

“Take this with you. If you run into a roe deer or something, shoot it and bring it back to fill our stomachs.”

Old Diao sized up Wang Sheng and patted him on the head: “You’re the one who speaks sense, kid.”

“Heh heh.”

Wang Sheng laughed foolishly at his words.

Old Diao, shouldering the firearm, pushed the door open; the whooshing cold wind skewed his dry white beard. Squinting his eyes, he stepped his boots into the expanse of white outside the house.

Everyone huddled around the fire, and with a Joseon woman who had just been teased in the inner room, no one felt comfortable speaking loudly.

Time passed slowly. Just as Li Yan was about to clear his throat and say something to lighten the mood, an unexpected male voice came from outside the wooden door.

“Excuse me.” (In Korean)

The door creaked open, and a young man dressed in a fur coat appeared at the entrance, with red lips, white teeth, and a refined appearance.

Deng Tianxiong’s eyes hardened, but he quickly realized they had changed out of their Ming Army uniforms on the road. They looked more like hunters and farmers than soldiers; there was no need to be overly anxious.

The man asked something in Korean, and Song Translator immediately stood up with an “Ah!” and walked over warmly.

The two exchanged a few words, probably somethings like “Your accent sounds like you’re from Pyongyang?” “Up the mountain to seek shelter” “So am I!” “Fortunate to meet you” or something of that nature. The atmosphere seemed quite harmonious.

Four men with grim expressions followed the young man in, each armed with a sword with a fiery red scabbard.

“Sir, take a look at their swords,” Deng Tianxiong said in a low voice.

Unexpectedly, the man who was chatting happily with Song Translator suddenly turned his head, his eyes filled with shock and excitement, and he asked in very standard Chinese, “Great Ming people?”

…

Diao Xiayan, with two large chunks of ice wrapped in his clothes and his saber hung at his waist, shook the snowflakes from his hair as they fluttered about. He was indeed getting old, old enough that he could barely withstand the wind and frost. Maybe one day he wouldn’t be able to grip a sword steadily, and then it would really be time for his son to take over.

Suddenly, his gaze sharpened. In the snow, a wild musk deer was looking around cautiously.

A smile spread across Diao’s orange-peel-like face as he raised his firearm and took aim at the musk deer with his one good eye.

“Bang!”

The musk deer fell to the sound of the gunshot. Diao Xiayan frowned, ignoring the dead animal on the ground, and slowly turned around.

Twenty meters away, a dazzlingly red Doumaru Samurai armor stood quietly as if it was a bright red flame erected on a snow mountain.

From under the kibito-shaped star helmet seemed to float a formless ghost; two glints of cold light hovered in the air. Arm guards, Kote gloves, Suneate shin guards, Kawa-gutsu shoes—all linked together, exuding an indescribable aura of deterrence.

Grand, imposing, and grim.

Diao Xiayan, wearing a threadbare woolen shirt, with his hair covered in snowflakes, looked shabby and miserly.

The two standing together looked like a warrior and a beggar…

The one-eyed old soldier threw the ice and firearm on the ground and tore off the blood-stained cloth from his injured belly, winding it around the wrist of his saber hand, tightening the knot with his teeth with a fierce determination, his gaze as wild as a lone wolf.

“Wokou pirate…”

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