priest / TYK / 1 Faraway Wanderers 天涯客 | Tiān Yá Kè by priest priest / TYK / 2 Translators: Ch 1 - 30 | Vee / sparklingwater | https://sparklingwatertrans.wordpress.com/projects/faraway-wanderers/ Ch 31 - 67 | @wenbuxing | https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1- MtoURYXKHMq1LAsq1S0Z5CkRdjgImyH Ch 68 - end | Chichi | https://chichilations.home.blog/category/faraway-wanderers/ JJWXC novel page: http://www.jjwxc.net/onebook.php?novelid=912073 priest / TYK / 3 Farewell to the Imperial Court Volume One. Freely Travelling the World with Wine in Abundance Volume Two. After One Stepped Down, Another Would Step Up Volume Three. She has sewn gold thread on wedding robes for other girls Final Volume. Gratitude, Resentment, Affection, Hatred Extras priest / TYK / 4 Farewell to the Imperial Court Chapter 1 - Tian Chuang Plum blossoms flourished in the courtyard, falling everywhere on the ground, on the snow that was yet to melt, blending together at first glance. The petals were blown around the yard leisurely by the wind. Dusk fell like a curtain, and on the eaves the moon was as cold as water. At the far back of the small courtyard, half hidden by the plum blossom tree was a corner gate, looking like it had been there for a long time. Guarded by two well-built men steeled in armors and weapons, inside the door was a distinctly large space. The veranda was narrow and cramped, towering over a stone-paved path which led into a pitch-black prison. The atmosphere was somber and heavy with the stench of death. The faint smell of the blossoms was seemingly cut off by the door, unable to reach this place at all. More guards inside with various weapons stood stock still; the bars of the cells they were protecting as thick as a grown man’s arm. Following the dark, narrow path further inside the prison would be met with three large stone doors with mechanisms inside, each carefully guarded. Behind those doors was completely devoid of mortal life, as if the long path leading here had been the road to the underworld full of wronged souls, lit up by flickering lights that looked like will-o’-wisps. In the cell at the end of the prison, there was a low male voice saying something, followed by a short silence and ostensibly a tired sigh. Suddenly, a piercing scream cut through the pitch darkness in the prison, dimming the light for a split second. The scream was terribly ear-splitting, like that of a dying animal, giving any human soul the chills. One of the two guards outside with their back towards the cell seemed to be fresh blood with his young, inexperienced expressions. He could not help but shiver after hearing the scream, but a glance at his companion showed the other playing deaf, standing as straight as a mountain; so he too recomposed and looked down. priest / TYK / 5 But that scream just got shriller and went on longer, the person kept screaming until their voice gave out and their breath became short, and eventually the scream became moans and sobs, further evidence of their misery. The newcomer felt continuous goosebumps on his body. After about an hour1, the sound finally died down. A short time passed by until a middle-aged man was dragged out by two people, looking half dead. His arms were bare, head lolled to one side, hair sweat-soaked, lips bitten raw, blood foaming at the corner of his mouth, no visible injuries save for the seven major acupuncture points on his stomach and chest, which were stabbed into by deep crimson nails. It looked like a horrifying map. The young guard couldn’t help but follow the man with his eyes until he disappeared behind a stone door. At that moment, someone behind him said, “Do you have regrets now, having seen that?” He visibly shook with fear, turning back to see a man in turquoise robes silently appearing behind him for heavens knew how long. The other guard had already knelt, so he quickly followed suit, “My lord.” The man in robes seemed to be in his late twenties, carrying himself with a scholarly grace, but there were traces of sickness on his complexion. His face was sharp, eyes bright, thick eyelashes seemingly hiding half of his face when he looked down, which was a common habit. The rare times the man looked up, a chilling cold in his eyes could be seen. The addition of an elegance slope of nose and a contemptuous curl of lips was a treacherous touch to his handsome look. The man looked at the younger after noticing the honorifics, smiling gently, “You must be new?” The young man nodded. “Yes, my lord.” He was then patted twice on the shoulder, “Then you must remember never to call me that from now on, the title is no longer mine. Simply call me Sir Zhou next time.” The young man looked up quickly then down again with respect. “Yes, Sir Zhou.” He nodded, waving his arms, “You two can leave, I want some space for myself.” 1 The original text is a burned out incense, a common time measurement in ancient China. priest / TYK / 6 The two guards obeyed and walked out side by side. The younger one sill could not help but look back for a second to see the robed man leaning on the doorframe, his eyes gazing at something in the air but also nothing at the same time. Somehow he thought the man looked like he wanted to leave for somewhere really far away. After the first iron door was let down, the old guard beside him suddenly spoke in a low voice, “Having seen Sir all amiable and gracious and scholarly, will you believe that he’s the one who put the ‘Nails of Seven Apertures for Three Autumns’ into Old Bi?” The younger looked at him in shock, and the white-haired old man sighed: “There’re still a lot you don’t understand. If you enter ‘Tian Chuang’ there’s no way out, escape will only result in either death or being completely disabled.” By Year 4 under the Rong Jia reign of Da Qing, just by hearing the name ‘Tian Chuang’ could make the whole court quiver in fear. An organization of intelligence gatherers and assassins loyal only to the Emperor, there was no information of their numbers or whereabouts – no doubt their power could extend to the end of the earth. Tian Chuang was formed by Emperor He Lianyi of House Rong back when he was the Crown Prince, and by now it was already fully structured and strictly regulated. And the first ever leader of Tian Chuang was the man in the turquoise robes, former Lord of Si Ji Holdings: “Sir Zhou” Zhou Zishu. There were no secrets in Tian Chuang whether it was about court business or peasant problems; therefore one of its rules was that if a person could still talk, they could not leave the organization unless they were dead or asked for the Nails themselves. The “Nails of Seven Apertures for Three Autumns” punishment meant that the person would be stabbed by poisonous nails into the seven most important acupuncture points on their upper body by internal force,2 blocking their Eight Meridians,3 crippling their martial art skills and their ability to speak or move; after three years, the poison would fully spread into their viscera and they would kick the bucket. They would live their lives without purpose in those three years, and the experience made it worse than death itself. 2 内力 (nèilì) The cultivated energy inside a martial artist’s body. 3 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meridian_%28Chinese_medicine%29#Eight_extraordin ary_meridians priest / TYK / 7 But even then, there were still some voluntarily wanting to be put in near coma just to leave Tian Chuang. Those three years for them were the greatest favor. After dismissing everyone, Zhou Zishu returned to the small cell, closing the door, hands behind his back, pacing around in deep thoughts for a while. Then he stopped at a corner of the room, taking out a small box with the Nails inside. Those terrifying tiny things carried a grim aroma not unlike plum blossoms. Zhou Zishu inhaled deeply, then undid his robes. He looked relatively well-built, but once the robes were removed, a shriveled body came into view, like something had drained life completely out of it. On his haggard frame were six Nails already being put in for apparently a long time ago, having almost become one with the flesh. He looked down at his body, smiling at himself mockingly and picking up a knife nearby. Slightly gritting his teeth, he made quick work of cutting away the flesh that clung to the nails as if it’s not flesh of his own. His chest was quickly soaked in blood, but the nails looked new again. Like something was let loose, he cried out in pain, weakly leaning onto the wall in the corner and slowly sliding down, body trembling uncontrollably. His lips were deathly pale, teeth still gritted; then he suddenly convulsed, eyes wide open then slowly closed right after, head twisted to one side. Blanched and covered in blood, he looked like a corpse. Only until dawn broke did the man coiled in the corner of the cell twitch. His eyes then opened slowly and he tried to get up, but his weak legs gave out and he fell. He somewhat managed to stand after the second attempt, pulling out a cloth and dipping it in water to wipe away most of the blood on his chest with care.