Moving a large force past the Army of Heavenly Mandate’s defensive line to cross the river was essentially out of the question — scouts would discover the army’s movements well in advance.
But for a small group of people to slip across secretly was considerably easier, especially on a night when cloud covered the moon and visibility was poor.
Besides, Cao Lie and his men were all good swimmers. Without needing a small boat, their physical strength was sufficient to swim across.
After reaching the south bank, they didn’t rashly strike out across open ground toward the county seat below Dunshan.
Before crossing, Cao Lie’s group had spent three or four days on the bank monitoring the Army of Heavenly Mandate’s patrol patterns, and only then confirmed the schedule.
After crossing at night, they would need to lie low in the reed beds until just before dawn, when the Army of Heavenly Mandate’s guards rotated shifts.
Cao Lie had brought only a dozen or so people across this time. The whole undertaking was undeniably an extraordinary feat.
Facing an enemy with five hundred thousand soldiers, even simply infiltrating that county seat was no easy matter — let alone trying to kill Yang Xuanji’s foremost strategist. Such a thing, apart from madmen, who could possibly attempt it?
As it happened, Li Chi’s side had quite a few such madmen.
While waiting for the shift change, Cao Lie’s group rested in turns, making sure everyone recovered some of their strength.
Thousands of li away from there, in Anyang City, inside the compound of a courier and escort agency called Rainbow Hall —
Jie Yi was kneeling on the ground, his face as white as paper.
The sect master of the Sacred Blade Sect stood before him, looking at this most beloved of disciples. Burning within the sect master’s heart was a fire of fury. He appeared calm only because his disappointment was so extreme that beyond a certain point, he had lost all desire to lose his temper — had there remained even a thread of hope for the person kneeling before him, he would have flown into a rage long ago.
“This disciple deserves ten thousand deaths.”
Jie Yi kept kowtowing, his forehead already covered in blood.
The sect master only watched him, saying nothing.
“Let me go.”
Jian Li, the junior uncle of the Sacred Blade Sect who stood at the sect master’s side, looked toward the sect master.
The sect master gave a slight shake of his head, his gaze still resting on Jie Yi.
“You had your martial arts crippled — I won’t hold that against you. You were outmatched by your opponent, and you were outmatched. You had the Master’s Sacred Blade taken from you — I can overlook that too. You can’t win against someone stronger than you. But after you fled back here, you didn’t come directly to report to the sect — instead you tried to hide in Anyang City…”
The sect master looked at Jie Yi, and the crimson in his eyes grew deeper and deeper.
“A disciple of the Sacred Blade Sect, an inheritor of the Master’s legacy — there is no place for a disgrace like you.”
Hearing these words, Jie Yi suddenly raised his head and cried out: “Master! I did not come to Anyang City to hide! I came here to… to seek treatment for my injuries, and to find a way to head south and take revenge on Li Chi!”
His words were not yet finished when the sect master’s hand made the faintest motion. A red line appeared at Jie Yi’s throat.
A moment later, Jie Yi’s head slid from his neck and rolled to one side. The expression on that face was still full of grievance and unwillingness; the eyes were still full of shame and terror.
“Senior brother.”
Jian Li looked at the sect master: “The Sacred Blade must be recovered. I am best suited to go.”
The sect master looked at Jian Li — with a gaze that made Jian Li instinctively take a step back.
“I will go in person.”
The sect master stepped toward the agency’s main gate: “While I am away, all matters within the sect fall to you.”
Before the words had finished, the man was already nowhere to be seen.
Jian Li stood staring at the direction in which the sect master had vanished, his expression extraordinarily complex.
Dawn would come soon. In this darkest hour before the break of an early summer morning, the cold seemed almost sharp enough to cut.
The sect master setting off in person for Yuzhou… it had been at least fifteen years since he had last personally gone to do something.
Jian Li closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and in his heart there was only one thought: *I truly, truly wish I could go with him.*
When martial arts reached his level of attainment, the people who could still help him advance had become as rare as phoenix feathers. Without question, the sect master was one of them.
And yet the sect master would not personally guide him anymore. The only opportunity was to see the sect master in action.
On the other side, just before dawn, Cao Lie’s group found their moment to leave the reed beds and made their way stealthily toward Lingshan County.
In an age of upheaval like this, it seemed no one could know which would arrive first tomorrow — their plans or their death.
Only a handful of people could shape the destinies of others. These handful of people, they were given all kinds of different names.
No matter how different or complicated these names were, they could all really be summed up in three words: *great figures.*
Great figures appeared everywhere. Great figures in great cities wielded power to summon wind and rain; great figures in small places ran roughshod over the land around them.
For people of different stations, the great figures they looked up to were naturally different too.
In a single village, the village headman was a great figure in the eyes of the people.
And what about in the Great Chu’s capital city?
In this greatest of cities under heaven, every trade and profession had its great figures. They were dazzling, resplendent — wherever they walked on the streets, they drew gazes of admiration and awe.
In a place like the Great Chu’s capital, every great figure in every industry was worth paying attention to. This city had once been the center of power. It was no longer. But it had once been the center of the jianghu, and it still was.
In Daxing City, these great figures all lived lives that made others deeply envious — magnificent horses, brilliant garments, awe-inspiring presences.
The capital’s various trades and worlds of all kinds ran deep and opaque as a sea, full of dragons and fish all mixed together. Those who could become great figures in each field were like feudal lords in the light of day.
But these one-time feudal lords also had their own great figure in their hearts — a great figure that these powerful people themselves regarded with reverence.
When uttering this person’s name, they spoke with a kind of sacred tone.
This great figure who commanded reverence from so many lesser feudal lords was a man called Fang Zhuhou.
Three carriages pulled up before the entrance of a pawnshop. Around these three carriages were at least a hundred visible guards.
And those were only the ones in plain sight. In hidden positions, the guards that had been arranged amounted to at least five times as many.
These guards wore grim expressions, eyes sweeping the surroundings like flashes of lightning behind storm clouds. Ordinary passersby dared not meet their gaze.
A young man with a clear and handsome face, dressed in embroidered robes and wearing a cloak, walked to the entrance of the pawnshop under the protection of several guards.
The young apprentice standing behind the tall counter, seeing a customer arrive, called out at once.
“A customer has arrived.”
The proprietor, carrying a teapot, came ambling out from the back room. He looked at the young man in the embroidered robes and cloak and felt his heart give an uneasy lurch.
The bearing of this young man made him distinctly apprehensive.
The young man walked up to the counter, extended a hand toward his attendant, and the attendant promptly placed a jade token in his palm. He set the jade token on the counter: “Have a look.”
Today there was nothing else to do, so the proprietor was personally present, with several senior pawn assessors attending him with great care.
Seeing the jade token, the proprietor picked it up to examine it, and after just one glance, the color drained from his face.
He immediately unlatched the door and came out from behind the high counter, respectfully returning the jade token with both hands to the young man in embroidered robes.
The proprietor bowed low: “Please forgive me — I did not know that the honored one had come from the palace. If there is any instruction, you need only say.”
The young man said: “My name is Zhen Xiaodao. Have you heard of it?”
The proprietor’s expression became even more alarmed, and he bent even lower: “I have, I have indeed.”
The young man gave a quiet sound of acknowledgment: “Good, then. A noble personage from the palace wishes to see Fang Zhuhou, and knows that you are acquainted with him — so they want to ask you to help bring him here.”
The proprietor trembled slightly in fright, keeping his head bowed, and said: “This humble one has only met him once. Truly…”
Zhen Xiaodao, the Chief Steward of the Shiyuan Palace, let out a snort: “The noble personage I mention — surely I don’t need to tell you who it is in detail? If you’re not foolish, you should already be able to guess.”
He glanced back at the three carriages stopped at the roadside: “The noble personage is waiting inside the carriage. If Fang Zhuhou is not found today, the noble personage will not return to the palace. So…”
The proprietor gritted his teeth and said: “I’ll try. I can only say — I’ll try.”
Zhen Xiaodao gave a nod: “Go. When you have word, come directly to the carriages and report.”
The proprietor quickly acknowledged this and hurried off, leaving the pawnshop.
In many myths and legends, this land called the Central Plains was said to have divine guardians.
According to those tales, the four guardian gods of the Central Plains were known as the Azure Dragon, the White Tiger, the Vermilion Bird, and the Black Tortoise.
They held watch over the four cardinal directions, sweeping away evil and corruption.
But these were, after all, only myths and legends. No such divine guardians actually existed in the world. Everyone had heard the tales, but no one could possibly have seen them.
Within the jianghu of Daxing City, there was also a guardian god. Many people knew his name, but none had ever seen his face.
Zhen Xiaodao returned to the carriage and bowed: “Your Majesty, the search has been sent out.”
Emperor Yang Jing of Great Chu, seated inside the carriage, gave a quiet sound of acknowledgment. He looked at the booklet in his hands — which was not any kind of text, but a ledger of records.
This ledger had been started sometime after his enthronement, more precisely, from around the time Jian Nu had gone north.
What was recorded in it was not a story, though reading it felt as riveting as one of those mythological tales — enough to kindle an irresistible curiosity in one’s heart.
Even for an emperor.
Three years ago, Yang Xuanji the rebel had sent men to infiltrate Daxing City with intent to assassinate Emperor Yang Jing. The men sent were supreme-level martial artists.
On a rainy night, this assassin slipped into the Shiyuan Palace, and had actually come to within thirty feet of the Eastern Study before being discovered by the palace’s elite guards.
In the fight that followed, several dozen of the palace’s elite guards were killed. The Head Commandant of the Inner Guard, Hui Chunqiu, was struck through the chest by a guqin string, and nearly lost his life.
A year and a half ago, a group of assassins of unknown origin set an ambush while the emperor was out on a procession. They were skilled at concealment, and the procession had passed without detecting them. The moment the imperial palanquin went by, the assassins burst from their hiding places, and two of them boarded the imperial palanquin.
Three days ago, men sent by the great rebel Li Xionghu had lain in wait inside Daxing City, and struck when the emperor was halfway back to the palace from inspecting the garrison fortifications. Among them were two supremely skilled martial artists. The Head Commandant of the Inner Guard, Hui Chunqiu, barely managed to hold one of them off, while the other’s sword pressed toward the emperor’s throat.
These three occasions were when the emperor had come closest to death.
The reason the emperor survived all three times was that on each occasion, a person had appeared suddenly to save him.
Three years ago, that person delivered a single palm strike that sent the assassin who had infiltrated the Shiyuan Palace flying — leaving the intruder so intimidated he didn’t dare retaliate, and fled immediately.
A year and a half ago, the two assassins who had boarded the imperial palanquin had their skulls burst open right before the emperor’s eyes — and what burst their skulls was two teacups, flying out from a teahouse at the roadside.
Three days ago, when the two supreme-level assassins sent by the great rebel Li Xionghu were on the verge of succeeding, a figure drifted in like a leaf on the wind.
One palm broke two swords, shearing both off clean. The two men turned and fled. One had run seven paces when a finger touched the back of his skull. The other had run fifteen paces when a finger touched the back of his skull.
This person was Fang Zhuhou.
The divine guardian of Daxing City’s jianghu. Also known as the divine guardian of the Great Chu’s jianghu.
The emperor set the booklet aside, closed his eyes to rest, and after a long silence, he suddenly asked: “Xiaodao — will he be willing to leave Daxing City for me?”
Zhen Xiaodao bowed: “He is also a subject of Great Chu. Whatever Your Majesty commands him to do, he naturally…”
Before the words were finished, the emperor said quietly: “If he is unwilling, I will beg him.”
Zhen Xiaodao felt a jolt in his heart.
The carriage was stopped on the side of the road near the pawnshop. On the other side of the road, there was a small wine shop next door.
A middle-aged man in a plain blue robe sat inside the wine shop. On the table before him were two dishes of simple vegetable food, and a flask of wine warming at the side.
He turned his head to look at the carriages across the road, and then gave a quiet sigh.
“Perhaps I should never have gotten involved in the first place.”
He murmured to himself.