The fighting had already lasted an entire day. Southern Yu’s navy seemed to have gone completely blind and deaf, turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to the fierce battle raging across the Yangtze and simply allowing both sides to fight to the death.
Or perhaps seeing the river bandits destroy one another was exactly what they wanted.
Evening arrived late. Vast stretches of crimson cloud looked like blood from the river flowing all the way toward the horizon before spreading across the sky. Golden-orange afterglow covered the warships, as though all the blood spilled below had been evenly sprinkled back upon them. Everywhere between Heaven and Earth was stained with blood.
But the battle continued.
The large-scale ramming clashes had ended near the beginning of the fighting. Wreckage from warships mingled with human corpses as they drifted across the river. Arrows covered the surviving vessels so densely that every ship resembled a hedgehog struggling for its last breaths.
Although Lu Shan Hu’s White Dragon remained protected at the center of several other warships, it had still suffered considerable damage. A spear two zhang long was embedded firmly in the deck directly before him.
It was a “gift” personally delivered by the White Dragon Gang’s former chief.
The moment Lu Shan Hu saw the supposedly unconscious Qu Xiang standing aboard the opposing warship, he knew he had fallen into a trap. It might be true that Qu Xiang did not have long to live, but it was even more true that the old man wanted to settle his blood feud before breathing his last.
If Lu Shan Hu had possessed enough patience, perhaps he would never have needed to attack at all. The other side might simply have died first.
But once he launched the assault, he had already entered the opponent’s rhythm. Large numbers of warships had been dragged into the battlefield, leaving no path of retreat. Even knowing that the enemy had been waiting for him to walk into their trap, he could only grit his teeth and continue fighting.
Still, Lu Shan Hu had not lost confidence. It was not as though he had never considered such a possibility before setting out. With someone as cunning and experienced as Qu Xiang, even if the old man could no longer manage affairs himself, he would certainly have prepared a successor. Back then it had been Qu Wei Wei. This time, it was probably that “Miss Xie” mentioned by his spies.
What Lu Shan Hu could not understand was why Qu Xiang always wanted to hand murder and robbery over to women. Qu Wei Wei had at least been his daughter. Who exactly was this Miss Xie?
Both sides had nearly exhausted their ranged weapons. Boarding bridges began dropping between the ships, transforming the water battle into hand-to-hand combat.
Lu Shan Hu watched the Heaven-Swallowing draw closer. When he saw that aged figure fighting with twin halberds, a long-forgotten urge to kill surged inside him. The last time he had felt this way was when Qu Xiang flatly informed him that from then onward, the White Dragon Gang would obey Qu Wei Wei.
He gripped his familiar tempered-steel saber and had taken only two steps when he abruptly turned around. “Where’s Qi Wen Xin?”
One of his trusted men froze. “He disappeared not long after we set out.”
Assuming Qi Wen Xin had hidden somewhere out of fear of the fighting, Lu Shan Hu could not help cursing. “Useless trash!”
The “useless trash” had a Go board sitting before him. The battle across the board had reached a stalemate, black and white stones tangled into chaos. Near the central tianyuan point sat two conspicuous Chinese chess pieces, one Marshal and one General. Without the Chu River and Han Border separating them, only intersecting lines stretched ahead, allowing either side to break through the restrictions at any moment and stage a confrontation between commanders.
Elio’s Notes: In Chinese chess, the opposing Marshal and General are separated by the symbolic “Chu River and Han Border” and normally cannot directly face one another along an open file. Qi Wen Xin has placed both pieces on a Go board instead, turning the struggle between the two leaders into a visual metaphor.
Fu Xi Yan sat opposite him and gave a sleepy yawn. After staring at the board for most of the day, he was already tired of it. But the main event was about to begin, so he could only take a sip of strong tea and force himself awake.
Pei Yuan Jin was changing clothes inside. Since they needed to conceal their identities, naturally he had to blend into the crowd.
But when he emerged, they immediately realized their idea had been far too simple. Qi Wen Xin had brought a brand-new set of river-bandit clothes, but river bandits liked going bare-chested during summer. Someone as proper as Young Master Pei obviously refused, so he wore a white undershirt beneath them.
That was not even the main problem.
The real problem was that even dressed so bizarrely, he remained imposing and outstanding. Never mind putting him among a group of river bandits. Even among a crowd of noble young masters, he would still be difficult to overlook. At least in Fu Xi Yan’s opinion, if Pei Yuan Jin stood beside Northern Zhou’s Third Prince, the one being overshadowed certainly would not be Young Master Pei.
In that case, disguising him seemed rather pointless.
Fu Xi Yan said, “Once Pei Yuan Jin makes a move, everyone will know he’s an expert anyway. Why bother hiding so much?”
Pei Yuan Jin tugged awkwardly at his collar and nodded in agreement.
“Just wear night clothes and cover your face.” Fu Xi Yan remembered Song Qi Yun appearing in his lucky-child mask and suggested, “Or we could wear lucky-child masks. Since Mister Song dislikes showing his face so much, we can help him show it a little.”
Pei Yuan Jin frowned. He clearly disliked impersonating someone else.
Qi Wen Xin gave a bitter smile. “Prince Yue probably would not want too many jianghu factions getting involved.”
Fu Xi Yan had only been making a casual suggestion. Since neither of them approved, he stopped insisting. “Then just cover your faces however you like.” He looked at Pei Yuan Jin’s bright eyes and thought that the disguise would probably work about as well as Song Qi Yun’s lucky-child mask. Those eyes alone seemed enough to expose him.
He had simply forgotten that the reason he recognized those eyes so well was because he had spent far too long looking at them inside the black-canopied boat. Other people had obviously never enjoyed that privilege.
Besides, to reduce suspicion, Qin Zhao had already arranged for people to impersonate them and rush out of Southern Yu. By now, the doubles should already have entered Immortal Treasury Palace territory.
Pei Yuan Jin came back out dressed in black night clothes. Since they had not been tailored for him, the trousers were slightly short and the top somewhat oversized. Qi Wen Xin looked apologetic, but Fu Xi Yan thought it was excellent.
He said, “Drop shoulders and ankle-length trousers. You’re practically setting a new fashion trend.”
Pei Yuan Jin looked at him and innocently blinked, apparently asking what that meant.
Fu Xi Yan’s heart trembled. This is going to kill me. He had actually seen the word cute on the face of the mighty and heroic Young Master Pei. He awkwardly shifted his gaze away, then sighed toward Qi Wen Xin. “Actually, I should be the one fighting this battle.”
After traveling all the way through Northern Zhou and Southern Yu, his thinking had changed enormously. He no longer feared blood or battle, but both his body and his mind still needed time to adapt.
This would originally have been an excellent opportunity. Among the river bandits of the White Dragon Gang and Dragon-Swallowing Stronghold, whose hands had never been stained with blood? Killing them would not weigh too heavily on his conscience.
Unfortunately, this was a secret operation, and his build was simply too difficult to conceal. Black might make him look slimmer, but looking slimmer was not the same as actually becoming slimmer.
Pu Ying Xiong, who had been outside watching the battle and gathering information, hurried inside. “The White Dragon and Heaven-Swallowing have connected boarding bridges.”
Fu Xi Yan instinctively looked at Pei Yuan Jin.
Pei Yuan Jin raised a hand, removed the Crimson Dragon King from his hair, and inserted it into Fu Xi Yan’s hair instead.
Qi Wen Xin raised his hand and moved the General and Marshal on the board together.
The sun sank toward the western horizon.
Blood flooded the Yangtze.
The battle between the White Dragon Gang and Dragon-Swallowing Stronghold had nearly reached its end. Lu Shan Hu stepped onto the boarding bridge and jumped aboard the Heaven-Swallowing. Lu Shan Hu and Qu Xiang, once comrades who had entrusted each other with life and death, now enemies meeting with weapons drawn, finally stood face-to-face.
Several years had passed since they last met. Both thought the other looked much older.
Once they faced each other, neither wasted a single word. One raised his saber, the other swung his halberds, and they immediately began fighting. They had known each other for years. Everything worth saying had already been said long ago, and anything not worth saying would accomplish nothing now. Between them lay the hatred of a murdered daughter and the bitterness of stolen power. Endless accusations would merely vent anger. What could release hatred more directly than killing the person responsible?
As the commanders of both forces clashed, their trusted subordinates also fell upon one another.
Just as Lu Shan Hu slashed toward Qu Xiang and the twin halberds blocked his saber, a throwing knife shot from the cabin. It shaved away half of Qu Xiang’s sideburns with exquisite precision, then continued onward and sliced off part of Lu Shan Hu’s ear.
Lu Shan Hu screamed. His steel saber nearly slipped from his hand. Qu Xiang seized the opening and thrust both halberds toward his chest. Years of combat experience made Lu Shan Hu throw himself backward at the critical moment, narrowly avoiding the fatal strike. But Qu Xiang swung the twin halberds downward and pursued him.
Lu Shan Hu rolled across the deck. Just as he prepared to force himself back onto his feet, the second throwing knife arrived.
The knife actually curved through the air, flying toward his neck from an impossible angle. His neck was thick but extremely short, so when he turned it looked almost as though only his head were moving.
The knife skimmed directly across his skin.
Its icy metal chilled him to the heart.
Lu Shan Hu suddenly had the feeling he would not escape the third knife.
“Drunkard!”
He could not help shouting.
River banditry truly was a profession with excellent “money prospects.” No matter how terrible one’s reputation became, throwing enough silver around could always attract a few experts. Drunkard was the last of those hired experts who had remained at Lu Shan Hu’s side.
He stood at peak Mortal-Shedding Stage, placing him near the top among independent jianghu martial artists. But apart from his high cultivation and Lu Shan Hu’s special favor, there was another reason he had stayed so long: once he was paid, he simply did not care. Whether the river bandits murdered and robbed travelers or Lu Shan Hu betrayed his chief meant nothing to him. As long as he had money for wine and gambling, he would sell his life.
Of course, there was a drawback.
If Lu Shan Hu had not shouted his name, Drunkard might have calmly watched him die without bothering to move a finger.
Drunkard had been among Lu Shan Hu’s trusted followers. After boarding the ship, he found a quiet place and remained there until someone called for him. Only then did he sway unsteadily to his feet. His steps looked unstable, yet every one of them naturally and firmly blocked the path of the throwing knives aimed at Lu Shan Hu. Along the way, he casually punched Qu Xiang away when the old man lunged forward to finish the job.
Xie Yun Ling, hidden inside the cabin, could not help making a surprised sound, apparently wondering how a battle between two major river-bandit forces had somehow produced an expert like this.
But Xie Yun Ling had seen countless powerful martial artists. A lone wanderer hardly entered her eyes. She flicked her hand and sent out another four knives. Three targeted his upper, middle, and lower lines, while the fourth once again curved around him toward Lu Shan Hu.
Drunkard stepped twice to the right. Somehow, he not only neutralized the three knives aimed at himself, but also placed himself directly in the path of the fourth.
Two fingers caught the throwing knife. Calluses from years of handling gambling tiles covered the hand, yet its grip remained perfectly steady.
Xie Yun Ling frowned slightly.
Before the Spirit Sect fully seized control of this river-bandit force, she did not want the matter to become too conspicuous. After the battle in the new city, the Spirit Sect had become enemies with the Immortal Treasury Palace, whose influence stretched across the realm. If the Palace also decided to take a share, matters would become far more complicated.
But this Drunkard clearly forced her to change her plans. She extended a hand and signaled an attack.
The Spirit Sect’s hidden Shadow Corps silently surged from their ambush. They darted through the corridor, rushed out of the cabin, and attacked Drunkard. Individually, their martial arts were not particularly high, but their movement techniques were extremely strange and their cooperation seamless. One attacked, one defended, while the others struck from different angles, surrounding their target without interfering with one another.
The Shadow Corps consisted of assassins specially trained by the Spirit Sect. None possessed especially high cultivation alone, but once combined, one plus one plus one could easily produce an effect greater than ten.
Drunkard began feeling the pressure. His muddled eyes finally sharpened with a brilliance completely unlike his usual drunken haze.
On the other side, Lu Shan Hu faced even greater resistance. His own martial arts had never been exceptional. River bandits robbed passing merchants and travelers by relying primarily on superior numbers. Personal cultivation was secondary. Now that he faced professionally trained Spirit Sect assassins, he quickly fell into a disadvantage.
His trusted followers were loyal enough. One after another, they desperately rushed back to rescue him, but all they accomplished was buying time with their lives.
Lu Shan Hu looked at Qu Xiang standing behind the Shadow Corps, grief spreading across his face. “The great Chief Qu who once swore he would become a dragon crossing the river still ended up as someone’s dog!” He did not recognize the Spirit Sect’s Shadow Corps, but he knew such experts could never have been trained by ordinary people.
Qu Xiang looked at Lu Shan Hu cornered with nowhere to go and seemed to see his own reflection. Hatred filled him, and then more hatred. He hated Lu Shan Hu for betraying faith and loyalty, but he also hated himself for struggling half his life only to make another person’s wedding clothes.
But so what? Lu Shan Hu was going to die, and Qu Xiang himself was going to die.
Once a person died, everything ended. Was he supposed to carry the hatred of the living into the underworld as well? If he could personally kill his enemy, then after death, when he saw Wei Wei again, at least he would have an explanation for her. As he thought this, limitless strength suddenly filled the hands gripping his twin halberds.
When Lu Shan Hu took a slash from the Shadow Corps across his shoulder blade, Qu Xiang could no longer restrain himself. “Let me!”
The Shadow Corps surprisingly obeyed and opened the frontal battlefield for him.
Lu Shan Hu’s saber remained pinned by the Shadow Corps as Qu Xiang drove both halberds into his chest. Watching Lu Shan Hu’s eyes bulge while blood bubbled repeatedly from his mouth, Qu Xiang finally felt a burst of relief.
Yet in the next instant, Lu Shan Hu’s steel saber struck Qu Xiang across the neck. If Qu Xiang could have seen himself, he would have watched his own blood gush from the wound in exactly the same way.
Qu Xiang stared wide-eyed at Lu Shan Hu’s hand, as though a red spider lily from Hell had suddenly bloomed there.
His vision soon blurred and his awareness began scattering, yet one obsession remained.
Where was Qi Wen Xin?
Why was he not dead?
…
The Shadow Corps released Lu Shan Hu’s saber hand and watched the two lifelong enemies slowly collapse without expression. Then they turned and attacked Lu Shan Hu’s remaining followers.
Drunkard was already more than half sober. Fewer and fewer members of the White Dragon Gang remained alive aboard the Heaven-Swallowing. As the alcohol lost its effect, his overheated body gradually cooled as well.
Xie Yun Ling finally emerged from the cabin.
Her cold gaze swept across the corpses scattered everywhere before finally landing on Lu Shan Hu and Qu Xiang. “Clean up the old stronghold master and bring him over.” The instant she finished speaking, several of Qu Xiang’s trusted men rushed forward.
Just as she thought the outcome had been decided, her heart suddenly tightened. It felt as though danger were approaching.
Or perhaps it had already arrived.
Heavy clouds covered the moon that should have hung over the horizon, and only one or two sparse stars remained visible. Across the river, scattered fishing lamps swayed gently in a summer breeze thick with the smell of blood.
The violent battle had entered its desolate final stage.
Xie Yun Ling suddenly shouted, “Be on guard!”
The instant her voice fell, a tremendous pressure descended from above and crashed directly onto the entire Heaven-Swallowing.
Even after repeated collisions with the equally massive White Dragon, the Heaven-Swallowing had not suffered catastrophic damage. Yet now the ship instantly snapped in half at the waist. Drunkard allowed a blade to carve into his back, desperately broke through the encirclement, and threw himself into the water.
Before Xie Yun Ling hit the river, she could not resist looking upward.
A person stood atop the mast of the White Dragon. Even from more than ten zhang away, she had the illusion that the other man needed only an instant to kill her.
Yet after a single blink, the figure atop the mast had vanished.
Cool river water immediately swallowed her head. The pitch-black surroundings brought her a faint sense of relief. Part of the Spirit Sect’s Shadow Corps returned to her while the others searched for Drunkard.
Two wounds had been cut across Drunkard’s back, both deep enough to nearly expose bone, yet he continued swimming desperately toward the White Dragon. He possessed an almost miraculous instinct for survival.
And this time, that instinct had not betrayed him.
When someone pulled him from the water, the first thing he saw was a gentle, warm, clean face.
Qi Wen Xin crouched beside him. “How are you feeling?”
Drunkard’s lips had turned white from pain. Trembling, he said, “Bad…”
Qi Wen Xin asked again, “And Second Chief and Stronghold Master Qu?”
Drunkard had been on the same ship and naturally witnessed their ending. “Worse… than me. You?”
Qi Wen Xin smiled as he rose. “I’m very well.”
“Extremely well.”
Apart from the Heaven-Swallowing, every other warship had already been firmly brought under their control with Pei Yuan Jin’s help. With Qu Xiang and Lu Shan Hu both dead, only one “Miss Xie” remained in Qi Wen Xin’s path.
And she probably would not remain there much longer.
Xie Yun Ling discovered that she had relaxed too early. The river was dark, but with her eyesight she could certainly distinguish one person from another. Yet the number of people around her was shrinking at terrifying speed.
After remaining in the water long enough, her body gradually adapted to the temperature and began warming again, but her heart grew colder and colder, sinking toward the riverbed together with the Heaven-Swallowing.
Just as she should never have appeared here, that expert standing atop the mast should never have appeared here either.
She had still underestimated the importance of controlling the Yangtze waterways. Jianghu factions might have little interest in robbery along the river, but what about great clans and wealthy merchants? What about the courts?
If the Four-Way Alliance controlled this force, its land and water routes would no longer be vulnerable to strangulation.
If Northern Zhou controlled it, they would effectively have driven a blade into Southern Yu’s territory.
If Prince Yue of Southern Yu controlled it…
Countless possibilities flashed through her mind.
But Lu Shan Hu’s assault had been an extremely sudden event. If she had not personally arranged Qu Xiang’s supposed illness, even she could never have predicted that Lu Shan Hu would abruptly launch an attack. Could one of those powers already have infiltrated the White Dragon Gang?
Xie Yun Ling suddenly realized she seemed to have forgotten something. Or rather, someone. A person she had ordered her subordinates to find before the battle even began, yet who had still never appeared.
Qi Wen Xin.
With Qu Xiang and Lu Shan Hu dead, the White Dragon Gang’s nominal chief was now the most direct beneficiary.
Whatever the truth might be, as long as she lived, she could investigate it.
Gritting her teeth, she slowly swam toward the riverbank. At first, seven or eight people surrounded her. Gradually, however, one after another fell behind. By the next time she counted, only two remained.
She finally stopped.
The riverbank lay only a little more than ten zhang away. But behind them, the man who had stood atop the mast was now calmly standing on a broken plank of wood and following at an unhurried distance.
“Who exactly are you?”
After spending so long in the water, her voice had become somewhat hoarse.
The plank slowly approached. A ridiculously casual strip of black cloth covered the man’s face while perfectly exposing the lines of his nose bridge and jaw. Together with those bright, piercing eyes, it practically wrote the answer to “Who am I?” directly across his face.
Xie Yun Ling’s expression shifted from shock to despair. “Young Master Pei is actually helping river bandits fight their war? Aren’t you afraid the entire world will laugh at you?”
Pei Yuan Jin remained perfectly composed and kept his mouth firmly shut, clearly refusing to admit anything.
Xie Yun Ling asked again, “Is Northern Zhou behind Qi Wen Xin?”
Naturally, she reached this conclusion because Fu Xi Yan was the son of a Northern Zhou earl.
Pei Yuan Jin remained silent. His gaze merely lifted slightly toward a black-canopied boat slowly approaching them.
Fu Xi Yan leaned out from beneath the canopy holding a fishing lamp. His current eyesight no longer required light to see the river clearly, but out of habit, he still raised the lamp and shone it around.
“Xie Yun Ling?” He frowned. He had not expected someone from the Spirit Sect to appear here.
Pei Yuan Jin asked, “You want her?” He would always remember how heartbroken Fu Xi Yan had been when news from the new city arrived. So the instant he saw Xie Yun Ling, he thought perhaps Fu Xi Yan would want the chance.
Fu Xi Yan slowly lowered the lamp, pulled on his gloves, and said heavily, “I’ll do it.”
The final two members of the Shadow Corps abruptly lunged at Pei Yuan Jin. They knew that if they wanted to protect Xie Yun Ling’s escape, they first had to hold him back. But they had badly overestimated themselves. Their bodies had barely risen from the water when the force of an incoming punch smashed them back down. They sank silently beneath the surface, dragging Xie Yun Ling’s final hope of escape down with them.
Xie Yun Ling slowly turned around and stared coldly at Fu Xi Yan. If she could not survive, then she could at least think about how to make her death worthwhile.
For example, dragging someone else down with her.
She bent backward and plunged into the water. Fu Xi Yan punched the surface. The force of his Soft-Gentle Fist entered the river, pierced through the water, and struck her directly in the abdomen.
Xie Yun Ling involuntarily expelled a long breath. Clamping her legs together, she surged toward the black-canopied boat. The Spirit Sect was called the Spirit Sect precisely because its members possessed unique methods for manipulating spiritual energy.
As the Azure Lotus Envoy, Xie Yun Ling naturally had her own abilities. She might have no strength to resist a Martial King, but against someone at peak Mortal-Shedding Stage, victory was entirely possible.
She still did not know that Fu Xi Yan had already advanced to the Dao-Entry Stage.
Spiritual energy surged beneath the water. The black-canopied boat rocked gently once, then abruptly shattered into pieces.
Fu Xi Yan pushed off with one foot, flipped upside down in midair, and descended headfirst. He rapidly unleashed six punches. Every strike that entered the water produced a chain of water dragons.
Xie Yun Ling was blasted several zhang downward. She immediately brought both hands together, causing the surrounding river water to gather into a whirlpool.
The moment Fu Xi Yan entered the river, the whirlpool swallowed him. It spun so quickly that after only a few rotations, his stomach began churning and he nearly vomited. Worse, he had already lost all sense of direction. Xie Yun Ling could emerge from anywhere and launch a surprise attack.
He did not have many trump cards available underwater. Air-Stepping Walk and Shattered Stars, Lingering Shadows were completely useless here, while his Soft-Gentle Fist had no clear target. Just as Xie Yun Ling gripped a dagger and prepared to attack from behind him, three Nameless Little Arrows shot from his sleeve. Like three protective talismans, they followed the current and circled around his body.
Xie Yun Ling twisted her wrist and released throwing knives. Two were knocked away, while the remaining blade embedded itself in Fu Xi Yan’s thigh. Blood instantly spread through the water. Before she could feel any satisfaction, Fu Xi Yan pulled the knife from his leg and threw it straight back at her.
She dodged, but three Nameless Little Arrows followed directly behind it. They seemed to possess minds of their own. No matter how she moved, they remained tightly on her trail. Only after retreating into deeper water did she realize she had already left the center of the whirlpool’s influence.
Just as she prepared to repeat the same trick, an enormous suction force suddenly came from directly ahead. Her body flew forward against her will, and she could only watch as the Nameless Little Arrows pierced her chest one after another.
Fu Xi Yan slowly lowered his outstretched hands. The wound in his thigh had already healed, but inside his true essence, the Taotie Gu seemed to be furiously cursing him, apparently blaming Fu Xi Yan for making it work without giving it any reward.
Hm. After advancing to the Dao-Entry Stage, he seemed to have discovered a new use for the Taotie Gu: retrieving objects through empty space.
After recalling the Nameless Little Arrows, he slowly swam toward the surface.
The instant his head emerged from the river, Pei Yuan Jin hauled him up.
“Dead?”
“Dead.” Fu Xi Yan believed he sounded very calm.
Remembering Xie Yun Ling’s corpse sinking toward the bottom of the river, he even felt a little regretful. “If only we could send her to Ban Qing Yu.” Watching someone familiar and close die before her eyes would presumably help Ban Qing Yu develop an entirely new understanding of the meaning and value of life.
Pei Yuan Jin gently rubbed his face against Fu Xi Yan’s. “Let’s go back.”
Only after feeling the warmth of Pei Yuan Jin’s face did Fu Xi Yan realize how cold his own body had become. He was even trembling slightly. He froze for a moment, then slowly raised his arms around the person beside him and whispered, “It’s fine. It’ll pass soon.”
He was speaking to Pei Yuan Jin.
And to himself.
Pei Yuan Jin said nothing. He merely tightened his embrace, trying to transfer the warmth of his body to Fu Xi Yan. Some roads, once chosen for oneself, had to be walked to the end personally. Pei Yuan Jin could accompany him, but he could not walk them in his place.