6.1 - Snowy Mountain with a Peach Blossom Tree Volume I

Chapter 6: The book Snowy Mountain with a Peach Blossom Tree Volume I

In the universe of Snowy Mountain With A Peach Blossom Tree, there were a number of significant long-running competitions within the wulin community. One of which was the biennial martial arts convention held in Jing An Town during winter. Aspiring martial artists practice long and hard just to showcase their best performances on the grandiose arena in the town square, hoping to emerge as champions in their respective categories so as to catch the eyes of the highly-esteemed masters of prominent sects. Elite students of invited martial arts schools seized the opportunity to increase their rankings in jianghu by winning against sparring partners from other schools, bringing glory and honour to their masters and institutions.

The general public was welcomed to spectate the event, whether individuals from the pugilistic world or clueless commoners. Some arrived at the venue ahead of time in the hopes of securing a good location to view the action from. Others with deeper pockets may book private dining rooms in the restaurants overlooking the town square, inviting their friends and relatives to catch all the action. Finally, there were habitual gamblers who could not give up a chance to make money by betting on which schools and factions would emerge victorious this year.

The action did not only take place in the arena. Off-stage, disciples from distinguished schools strode around in groups, proudly dressed in their colour coded uniforms. Junior apprentices buzzed excitedly around nervous seniors who were warming up for their sparring bouts, running to and fro with water and instructions from their masters. Masters and leaders of smaller sects left their pre-assigned seats to mingle around, clinking small cups of tea and wishing one another the best for their disciples' performances. Renowned masters and alliance leaders simply needed to remain comfortably perched on their seats and politely greet those individuals wanting to ingratiate themselves with the masters of the top ten martial arts organisations. However, not all high profile individuals or representatives of smaller organisations were busy socialising. There was a group of people who silently scrutinised the movements and actions of all who were present, yet appeared indifferent and disinterested in the competition happening on-stage. Occasionally, they would glance in the direction of an alliance leader and then whisper into the ears of their associates, as if critiquing the latest happenings in the wulin community yet maintaining their non-partisan attitudes. These were people who were at the Convention not to compete, but to keep abreast of new gossips and rumours.

"Hypocrites?" I whispered to Mo Yue who had kindly explained the setting of the Convention to me. As Jinghe Palace was invited as a guest to watch the friendly competition, we were welcomed with a loud resounding announcement of our arrival and ushered quickly to our allocated seats on the far side of the circular arena.

The corners of his lips twitched but he tensed his jaws. Refilling my cup of tea, he said, "They are not the only ones here." He glanced at the group of social butterflies darting up and down the viewing gallery before his eyes met mine again.

I laughed, feeling delighted that Mo Yue seemed more comfortable around me today. "Are you also one of them?"

"Of course not. I'm here to support Brother Bai." He picked up the teacup with his thumb and two fingers, gazing at it with a smile.

"Yea, right." I rolled my eyes internally. Mo Yue was on his way to attend the Convention on behalf of his master, when he met Bai Zhen for the first time. Perhaps, he belonged to another group of spectators today: those who would come and go as they pleased, but actually had secret missions to accomplish. Encountering Bai Zhen was just a coincidence and part of the plot.

"Calling all competitors for the open freestyle sparring category, please make your way to the front of the stage right now."

Swept up in the joyful energy in the air, I sat upright in my seat and craned my neck to search amongst the competitors slowly gathering by the stage. Those competing in this category did not belong to any organisation. Besides disillusioned high-level martial artists who did not wish to pledge their loyalties to anyone and hopeful talented youths desiring to leave a favourable impression on the masters of prestigious schools so that they could be admitted as a student, there were also individuals who were outcasts. To be eligible, a recommendation letter from any leader of an organisation in wulin was required.

As Bai Zhen was banished from his school, Snow Mountain Manor, he could only compete in the open category. Originally, he was travelling to Jing An Town to hop onto the bandwagon and spectate the competition. Who knew that he had a chance encounter with the young heir of Jinghe Palace, formed a brotherhood with him, and got a recommendation letter that allowed him to participate in the open category. At the current moment, no one knew that this youth, who had a bad reputation, would become the winner of his category. Except for me. And Mo Yue who was still doubtful.

From a distance away, I pointed at a small Bai Zhen, who was dressed in sepia and charcoal colours, and gave Mo Yue a smug smile. "First place."

He looked in the direction where I was pointing and crossed his arms over his chest. "How are you so sure about that?"

"I told you yesterday. I can tell the future," I said boldly but a slight doubt crept into my heart nonetheless. It was a significant plot point that Bai Zhen won the competition so that Chu Shiyin would be further captivated and enthralled by him. However, the plot had been altered due to my untimely appearance. For some reason, Mo Yue spent the entire of yesterday shopping instead of accompanying Bai Zhen and befriending Chu Shiyin. Would this slight shift in detail have a butterfly effect on the rest of the story?

Mo Yue glanced up at the dove-grey sky and drew in a long breath. "Then can you tell me if it would rain today?" he asked in a tone so earnest that made it difficult to suspect that he was putting me to the test and placing me in a tight spot.

I scratched my neck, my mind spinning up ideas to evade the question. The book did not seem to have mentioned anything about the weather. "When I consulted the future," I rubbed my chin as if stroking a n imaginary beard while in deep thought, "only Bai Zhen's achievement was revealed to me. Nonetheless, on this special and joyous day, it is better to say that it is merely a bleak day with the sky withholding the rain than to hope that it would rain."

A series of rhythmic drumbeats sounded from the side of the sparring ring, drawing the attention of every spectator. Gradually, anticipatory silence fell upon the audience as they watched the first two competitors strode onto the stage from opposite ends, confidently brandishing their choice of weapon. Seeing the gleaming swords that they wielded, my heart pounded uneasily. "How do they determine who the winner will be? Do they fight till their deaths? Or does the winner stop short of slicing his opponent apart?"

"It is a friendly competition to showcase one's talents. Challengers should not injure one another and the winner wins if his opponent has no more counter-moves to make." Mo Yue's eyes remained fixated on the match but he lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. "But who is to stop one from hurting his opponent if the latter is unskilled and slow to react?" he added in a voice devoid of emotions.

I gave a nervous laugh in response, hoping in my heart that the first match with real weapons that I have ever watched would not end up a bloody affair.

"Then, would you happen to know which of the two will win this round?"

I shook my head and smiled coyly. "I am only concerned about matters related to you."

Mo Yue did not respond to my ambiguous statement. Gracefully and in a dignified manner, his hand moved to hold up a cup of cold tea, swirling the floating tea leaves thoughtfully. I sat up straight and turned back to the ongoing match. One of the competitors saw an opening and rushed forward to attack, whirring his sword and slashing several times in a row. Narrowly defending the series of onslaughts on him, the other competitor leapt high into the air before landing a distance away behind his attacker, eliciting murmurs of enthusiasm from the crowd.

I felt a ripple of excitement as I watched the action unfold before my very own eyes. But at the same time, the thought of Mo Yue's lack of response to my statement was a nagging distraction at the back of my mind. The more I dwelt on it, the faster my heart pounded in my chest as my cheeks coloured. "Have you competed on this stage before?" I attempted to change the subject.

Mo Yue looked at me with clouded eyes and opened his mouth to say something. He hesitated and drew his lower lip between his teeth. "You mentioned that you have information about the future of interest to me; but you don't have information about the past concerning me?"

"Past information about yourself?" I echoed, the gears in my head whirring wildly once more to guess his intentions. The "past" knowledge I had of Mo Yue was very much limited to his personal information and his backstory recorded in the book. If Ji Kai took the place of Mo Yue in the book, would he still have the memories of Mo Yue? I had read a couple of transmigration novels, but the mechanism of how it happens varied from author to author—after all it was fiction, not science. "Why do you need such information? Are you not actually yourself or do you not know about your past?"

Mo Yue paled slightly but quickly recovered his calm and collected appearance. Giving me a half-smile, he said, "Just watch the competition. I'll treat you to dinner later."

"Really?" I gaped up at him, pretending to have been distracted by the mention of food. Although I was unwilling to let go of how he slithered out of answering my questions so easily, this behaviour was identical to Ji Kai's elusive trait. Perhaps this "Mo Yue" had some good reasons for avoiding my queries, but I had always felt that such boys would not grow up to become good men…

"Yes. But only if your prediction comes true," he said, his head pointedly turned in the direction of Bai Zhen.

I counted the number of participants who would be up before him, silently hoping in my heart that the trajectory of the plot remained the same.

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