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Lock Linglong
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Introduction
I tapped my fingers impatiently on the table and cast a cold glance at Liu Zhuang.
Liu Zhuang held the letter in his hand, a hint of barely noticeable anxiety etched on his brow. "It's been ten years, A Yao. Do you really want to keep searching?"
His words stirred no ripples in my heart. "Get to the point. Stop rambling."
It was a well-known secret that Yu Yao had been searching for Zhou Shuhan for ten years.
Ten years ago, after the failed assassination attempt by the Martial Arts Alliance, I was filled with hatred, thinking that if I found this traitor, I would surely strike him down.
Sometimes I wonder if I hadn't taken on that assassination mission, would my senior brother still be here? Would everything be different?
"Come with me to a place," Liu Zhuang said.
Seeing that I was unmoved, Liu Zhuang changed the subject. His smile was somewhat strange, tinged with a hint of mischief, as if he were hinting at something. "I've been thinking about those days when we were ambitious and full of dreams."
"Where do you want to go?"
"Chang'an."
Chang'an, a place filled with indelible memories, where old scars and the person who left a deep impression on me are buried together.
1
Ten years is enough time for a city to change its appearance, but not enough for me to forget a person.
I wandered aimlessly along Chang'an Street, each step treading on fragments of memories, every scene a trace in my heart.
Walking past the streets we once walked side by side, every brick and tile seemed to tell the stories of those days. Every stone slab and every breeze seemed to echo my senior brother's voice filled with laughter: "A Yao, A Yao..."
For ten years I have searched without pause, but in this vast sea of people, where are you, senior brother?
Chang'an Street is still bustling, with vendors calling out in succession, displaying a dazzling array of goods.
This vibrant place reminds me of the wonderful times spent with my senior brother. Countless memories linger here, witnessing our growth.
My senior brother is an orphan, taken in by our master when he was just a baby. Perhaps he was too well protected, making him seem somewhat lost amidst the hustle and bustle. He is always too naive, unaware of the world's dangers, often taken advantage of without realizing it. I quietly observe from the side, reminding him at the right moments, protecting him from deceit.
I stopped in front of a small stall, reaching out to touch a piece of soft satin; the silk felt delicate and smooth, like flowing water.
I couldn't help but think of my senior brother. When I first joined the sect and struggled to wear coarse cloth garments, he saved up to buy this fabric to sew practice clothes for me.
Before I knew it, I had arrived at a quiet courtyard.
This was once the place where my senior brother Zhou Shuhan and I grew up together. Standing in this familiar courtyard, I felt as if I had traveled through time back to that carefree age.
The old locust tree in the courtyard still flourished with lush branches and leaves, sunlight filtering through the gaps to cast dappled shadows.
I gently caressed the trunk; its rough bark seemed to retain our past sweat, and if I listened closely, I could almost hear the sound of our sword dances from years ago.
Perhaps I thought too much or missed him too long and too deeply; before I knew it, I had fallen asleep under the old locust tree.
Under the old locust tree, a graceful young man in white was practicing swordplay. His movements were extremely beautiful; each rotation and swing of his sword resembled an immortal descending from heaven.
I watched with excitement and drew my sword to join him. My senior brother's swordsmanship flowed like clouds and water; despite my best efforts, I could never match him.
In a moment of distraction, my sword tip veered off course and nearly injured myself. My senior brother reacted quickly, grabbing my wrist and guiding my sword away safely.
He looked at me with concern and softly said, “A Yao, focus on your sparring; you must not be careless.”
I replied sullenly, “Senior brother, I lost.”
He gently patted my head, soothing me with kindness. “A Yao, you made progress today; that last move ‘Heavenly Water One Side’ was exquisite.”
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through, and his voice became faint and indistinct in the breeze.
Reality and memories intertwine as I catch a whiff of a familiar fragrance. Unconsciously, I reach out to embrace that hint of sweetness. In my dreams, my senior brother is obedient, allowing me to hold him without resistance, his gentle gaze fixed on me.
When I wake up, the moon hangs high in the sky.
And my arms are empty, with only that fleeting fragrance lingering faintly.
Liu Zhuang always says that I act too impulsively and am a heartless person. In my opinion, it is my senior brother who is heartless; even when he visits me in my dreams, he doesn’t linger for long, just like when he left without a word back then—cruel and resolute.
Back then, during the events of the Martial Arts Alliance, my whereabouts were exposed. I fell into a trap and was poisoned, failing my assassination mission. Azure Sparrow was also killed by my senior brother. In an instant, Fireflies became the target of everyone’s ire, with many wanting to take our place.
For a long time, Fireflies was hunted by various factions in the martial arts world, and we lived a life of constant upheaval.
What role did my senior brother play in all this? If he hadn’t interfered, why did he disappear afterward?
I refuse to believe that my senior brother is no longer in this world. With his skills, there’s likely no one capable of killing him. Though I’m reluctant to admit it, even if I faced him, we would probably end up mutually destructive.
Since then, I have been waiting—day after day—waiting until Fireflies became the leading assassin organization. Even as Master’s hair turned gray with age, I still couldn’t wait for a single explanation from my senior brother.
Ten years have passed in the blink of an eye. I have felt hatred towards my senior brother at times, but that hatred pales in comparison to the intensity and pain of longing.
As time goes by, the desire for revenge gradually quiets down; only the yearning remains, tearing at my heart.
I dare not and do not wish to think that my senior brother may have long since left this world.
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