Jianqi Xing

Author: Ghost Bride · Goodnight Xiaoqing
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-01-01
Features: The Sword Dance was first published on Ruoshu Tree, later appearing on Jinyang, Tianya, Sina, and other platforms, garnering significant reader attention. It is hailed as an extraordinary courtesan story and a stunning work titled A Cold Eye on the Bustling World. The Sword Dance was first published on Ruoshu Tree, later appearing on Jinyang, Tianya, Sina, and other platforms, garnering significant reader attention. It is hailed as an extraordinary courtesan story and a stunning work titled A Cold Eye on the Bustling World. This story broke the length restrictions, with 200,000 words completed in just two months. Its click rate skyrocketed to over 600,000 within such a short time, making it one of the most popular works on Tianya. The writing style combines the love and hate of the courtesan world with a fantastical love story between a sword immortal. The emotions and stories of two generations, seemingly unrelated, ultimately converge into two distinct yet intertwined main threads, creating a unique style of temporal confusion and a dreamlike awakening. It leaves readers moved to tears while also praising the detailed portrayal of the conflict between misunderstanding and enlightenment!
Prologue
Prologue
On the twenty-fifth of the ninth month, I returned to Tianwu Ferry. The nameless inn at the ferry still stood. I arrived before dusk. The old innkeeper squinted at me with dim, milky eyes, then instructed his granddaughter to lead me to a guest room on the upper floor.
"Fortuitous timing, fortuitous timing. It’s peak season for guests, and if you’d arrived a few days later, you might not have found a room." His trembling hands struggled to hold the inkstone’s corner, dipping the brush tip repeatedly before wetting his fingers and laboriously flipping through the ledger. The soft, aged paper rustled. He was indeed very old. After recording my name in the ledger, the old innkeeper said in a hoarse voice.
"The winter is approaching. It’s freezing out there. Why do so many guests come at this time of year?" While writing, his face was buried low, as if sniffing the ledger. He slowly raised his head.
"The winter solstice is near. Time flies—before you know it, it’ll be the end of the year. Merchants from all directions have been busy for six months. Now, they’re packing up their New Year goods to travel and sell everywhere. Ah, as the saying goes, people die for money, and birds die for food. If anyone wants to go home, they must pass this ferry. Beyond this ferry, beyond this river—the south returns to the south, and the north returns to the north."
As one grows older, they tend to ramble. The old innkeeper seemed eager to chat with me, rambling on endlessly. I brushed the sand off my shoulders.
"I wonder when the winter solstice will fall this year?"
"Fourth day of the tenth month." He pushed his felt hat up with his hand and asked casually, "Miss, traveling alone along the Yellow River is quite dangerous. Judging by your appearance, you’re not a merchant. What brings you out in this cold weather?"
"To find someone."
"I haven’t found them yet. Maybe soon." The old innkeeper nodded, dragging out his voice to show sympathy.
"Oh, a young woman alone is no easy task. Miss, this is the northern bank of the river. Are you planning to cross to the south? Is your relative from the south? You’re not from around here, are you?"
I smiled.
"Who would stay in an inn if they were local?"
"True, true." The old man chuckled. Under the dim light, his rough hands were stained with dark age spots, and his thumb was shorter by a piece. He coughed, covering his mouth. The half-thumbed hand looked strange. His granddaughter, a woman in her forties with large, clumsy hands, shy and honest, took a copper coin and hesitantly said, "Thank you," before quietly closing the door.
I set down my luggage and walked to the window.