With a muffled “thud,” a flying dagger embedded straight into the gate outside the courtyard, its gleaming blade holding a thin slip of paper.
The first two times someone had sent messages by flying dagger, the hot-tempered Tuoba Sanniang would still chase after them, but now she couldn’t be bothered to move, shouting to Shisan Lang, “Little baldy, go get it. You know the most characters.”
Yang Xingjian got up before dawn every day to wait at Dou Jing’s government office and had already left by now. Shisan Lang sighed and walked into the courtyard with heavy steps.
Xu Baozhen said slowly, “These past days we’ve searched everywhere day and night without the slightest clue. Now rumors are spreading wildly that the donkey-riding lady is deliberately hiding so Canyang Court can use her disappearance as an excuse to cause trouble in Luoyang and change the power structure.”
A flash of surprise crossed Tuoba Sanniang’s eyes, then she praised, “If we didn’t know Wei Da’s true nature, this would actually be a good strategy.”
Qiu Ren said, “During the battle at Jade City, Central Plains martial arts heroes personally witnessed her riding alone with her donkey, every arrow hitting its mark. With such skills, who could believe a master would easily be ‘received as Guanyin’? Such speculation is quite reasonable.”
Wei Xun had learned from Changqiu Temple that the former Luoyang prefect who first classified the disappearance case as “ascending to immortality” was named Cui Dongyang. However, after inquiring with Yang Xingjian, he discovered this man had been demoted two years ago due to some matter, later dying of illness in his post from depression, after which Dou Jing was transferred from Chang’an to take over Luoyang. Wei Xun had successively infiltrated both Dou’s government office and private residence without finding anything suspicious, and now had gone off searching somewhere else again.
Shisan Lang pulled the flying dagger from the door panel, brought the paper slip inside, and frowned while deciphering the crude, ugly handwriting, reading aloud to his senior brothers and sisters: “Jianghu storms, old grudges unresolved. There is an important matter, specially inviting a meeting. August twenty-second, respectfully requesting the Seven Absolutes of Canyang to honor us at Golden Wave Pavilion. Signed by Beggar Gang leader Gao Tai.”
Qiu Ren snorted, “This Luoyang martial world is truly extravagant – a begging gang leader inviting people to a luxury restaurant for food and drink. Don’t tell me they’ll stick us with the bill in the end?”
Luo Tuotuo said, “Earlier, Yique Gate, Mangbei Hall, and Dragon Gate Society also said they wanted to meet at Golden Wave Pavilion. Maybe whoever loses the fight pays the bill.”
The group was physically and mentally exhausted, lazily chatting and exchanging intelligence, when they suddenly heard a long Buddhist chant from outside: “Amitabha.” Immediately after, a high-pitched voice rang out: “Immeasurable Celestial Worthy.” Then a polite voice said: “Wisdom, Trust, Benevolence, Righteousness.”
Shisan Lang was completely unwilling and didn’t want to move another step, so he simply raised his voice and shouted, “All three of you come in together! This room can still fit more people!”
So the main gate opened, and a short, stocky monk, a tall, thin Taoist, and a young Confucian scholar with a silk headband and feather fan entered in order according to age and status. The three stood in the courtyard and each took out an invitation from their robes.
The monk pressed his palms together and slowly introduced himself: “This humble monk is Zhiyuan from Baituo Temple, entrusted by the three elders Huijue, Huiyuan, and Huiding of our ancestral temple to meet with the seven heroes of Canyang Court. We hope all of you will prioritize jianghu righteousness and temporarily set aside grudges. Tomorrow at noon, we must not fail to meet.”
The Taoist struck a rather arrogant pose and declared loudly, “I am Daoist Miaojing of the Purple Sun Sect from Mount Laojun. Our sect master, Purple Sun True Person, heard that fellow Taoist Dong Zhenzi, master of Louguan Sect, has come to Luoyang and was greatly pleased. He respectfully invites you to spare time for a meeting at Golden Wave Pavilion in the south of the city to discuss the Dao together. We hope you will not hesitate to share your teachings.”
The Confucian scholar humbly bowed with cupped hands, saying, “I am unworthy, merely a scholar named Zhao Wenbo from Songyang Academy. My teacher Zhou Zi’an has long heard of the renowned scholar Chen Shigu of Canyang Court, whose literary talent was flowing and brilliant genius. He has always yearned to befriend through literature, but sadly the extraordinary person died early and his wish could never be fulfilled – truly a lifelong regret. Songyang Academy has always upheld harmony as precious. If we could discuss jianghu matters with Master Chen’s distinguished disciples, it would not waste our teacher’s admiring respect for worthy scholars.”
The people of Canyang Court barely managed to patiently listen to all three men finish speaking, already understanding in their hearts. These people were no different from those who had sent messages by flying dagger earlier – clearly both the righteous and unorthodox paths were planning to set up a Hongmen Banquet together. It was just that Baituo Temple, Purple Sun Sect and others prided themselves as orthodox schools and were unwilling to use underhanded methods, so they sent disciples to personally deliver messages.
Shisan Lang collected the invitations one by one and took them inside, but no one paid attention. Qiu Ren thought silently that if Crippled Sixth were here, he could write an elegant reply. Among them, besides drawing talismans, keeping accounts, and writing prescriptions, none had the skill for literary composition. Old Chen had literary talent and style, but he refused to teach anyone.
After the three schools of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Taoism delivered their invitations and saw the four people inside sitting unmoved like Mount Tai, their faces full of arrogance, showing disdain for even basic pleasantries when the three major Central Plains sects came calling together, they couldn’t help feeling surprised and took their leave.
Xu Baozhen’s lips curved slightly upward, showing a trace of smugness: “Purple Sun True Person is quite well-informed, inviting this Taoist master with the status of Louguan Sect master. Very sensible.”
Tuoba Sanniang was displeased, her willow eyebrows knitting: “This old lady has also founded a sect. Why don’t they treat me with the courtesy of a sect master? Stinking nose-haired old Taoist – don’t let me catch the chance, or I’ll definitely shave his yellow crown flat.”
Qiu Ren said sarcastically, “Senior Sister, your business isn’t suitable for publicity. It’s better to keep a low profile.”
Luo Tuotuo stroked his beard and pondered for a while, then said regretfully, “Too bad I already disposed of that batch of good stuff, otherwise I could bury it in the restaurant and blow that whole group of jerks to smithereens in one go.”
The four chatted idly for a bit more, planning to find places to look for food, when they saw Wei Xun silently float in from outside, his gaze sweeping directly across each fellow disciple’s face.
He hadn’t closed his eyes for several days and nights, searching everywhere like a madman. His hair knot had long since come undone, disheveled hair draped over his shoulders. The bloodstains on his hands had dried and wetted, wetted and dried, never washed, his blue robe dirty and slovenly. If strangers saw him, no one could guess this person had once been the transcendent and unrestrained blue-robed guest – he looked more like a down-and-out Beggar Gang disciple.
Seeing him in this state, the others all thought: This person became famous young, was proud of his supreme martial arts, and had always been arrogant and domineering, never letting grudges last overnight. Having never experienced the torment of hatred and despair, his mentality was naturally excellent. Only encountering such tribulation could one know there are times when one is powerless and filled with regret.
The four fellow disciples remained silent. Seeing no response, Wei Xun said hoarsely, “I’ve run out of the azurite for writing on walls.”
Xu Baozhen fumbled in his sleeve for a moment, then took out a piece of cinnabar for drawing talismans and tossed it to him. The blue-robed guest had, contrary to his usual way, been killing people and writing on walls in high profile, spreading lynx graffiti everywhere. Today’s messages and invitations were the result.
Shisan Lang handed the items to Wei Xun, who took them and glanced through them briefly with lowered head.
Tuoba Sanniang asked lazily, “So what? Going or not going?”
Wei Xun said indifferently, “Of course we’re going. We only have five people – they have more.”
With that, he turned and left again.
Qiu Ren said strangely, “What does that mean? The enemy outnumbers us, and he’s quite happy about it?”
Xu Baozhen said slowly, “When has Master ever been intimidated by the other side having more people?”
Everyone recalled those few famous battles that shook jianghu that Chen Shigu had experienced in life. In every battle, he went alone to face a hundred, invincible in all directions. When he rushed to those battles, it was as if he deliberately sought death, yet each time he killed his way back from the gates of hell, only to become melancholy after winning – that was one major symptom of his madness.
On August twenty-second, the proprietor of Golden Wave Pavilion early put out a wooden sign saying “Closed for Private Event.”
He had already received deposits from several gangs in the Heluo region for booking the venue. Though extremely unwilling to take this business, he was helpless and couldn’t twist his arm more than his thigh. No matter where one opened for business, one had to curry favor with the powerful above for smooth sailing and secretly accommodate those below for safety – both the righteous and unorthodox paths had to be properly managed.
Last night, some unknown prankster had drawn a lynx on the powdered wall where Yuan Bai had written poetry. There was no time to deal with the graffiti now, so the proprietor could only have people prepare food and wine, quietly awaiting that group of jianghu ruffians to come gather.
Yique Gate, Mangbei Hall, Dragon Gate Society, and other gangs near Luoyang arrived successively, each with serious expressions. Next came a group of clergy – old monks with white beards and eyebrows, Taoists wearing yellow crowns and robes, and several nuns.
Then came a group of ragged beggars. Seeing this, the Golden Wave Pavilion proprietor could no longer contain himself and tried to step forward to stop them. But he saw the leading elder take out a piece of gold from his tattered, patched clothing and casually toss it to him like a tip, then stride across the threshold with head held high. The proprietor was given charity by a beggar in reverse, standing there stunned for a moment, his face full of shock.
This group hadn’t come to drink wine – they didn’t care about the food at all and didn’t need musicians or dancers to serve them. After most people had arrived, they drove away all the servants along with the proprietor.
Yique Gate’s master Wei Xiangrong had deep friendship with Beggar Gang leader Gao Tai, cupping his hands in greeting: “Leader Gao, have you been well?”
Gao Tai returned the courtesy with cupped hands, looked around in a circle, and asked, “Why didn’t Ferry Boat come?”
Wei Xiangrong said, “Cao Hong’s sister Cao Yan was also an ascending Guanyin slave. Now with the donkey-riding lady missing, Luoqing Gang’s position is almost aligned with Canyang Court’s, so they probably felt too awkward to come to the meeting.”
He noticed the old man’s tightly furrowed brows and heavy heart, and that he wasn’t carrying his ebony staff. This felt strange – that staff was the hereditary token of Beggar Gang leaders that Gao Tai never left his side. Today they might have to fight their enemies, yet he hadn’t brought weapons – truly abnormal.
Next, Zhou Zi’an, master of Songyang Academy, arrived. This middle-aged man was dressed as a Confucian scholar with an elegant and refined temperament, completely different from other jianghu ruffians. This person usually prided himself as a literary gentleman. After taking over as Songyang Sect master, he renamed it an academy and, besides teaching disciples martial arts, also forced them to study.
Zhou Zi’an had married his daughter to Yique Gate’s master Wei Xiangrong. Though both were sect masters, Zhou Zi’an was Wei Xiangrong’s father-in-law. After exchanging greetings, Zhou Zi’an went to pace around and admire the famous poetry on the walls.
At this time, martial arts experts from both righteous and unorthodox paths, all three teachings and nine schools of the Heluo region had almost come out in full force, gathering at Golden Wave Pavilion. Over three hundred people, all elite among elites. These people didn’t necessarily have dealings normally, but since they operated in the same region, they were quite familiar with each other’s reputations. After the gang leaders politely exchanged pleasantries, all eyes fell on the lynx on the hall’s powdered wall.
The wild beast was depicted in blood-red cinnabar with rough strokes full of bestial nature. Its front paws had all sharp claws extended, and viewers seemed able to hear its low roar, as if it might break through the wall at any moment – its presence forbiddingly terrifying.
After drawing the lynx, the wall-writer had for some reason used cinnabar to viciously cross out the nearby line “Yearning for you without leaving, you must understand, do you know if we’ll meet again afterward?” Seeing this, Zhou Zi’an felt great pain and repeatedly shook his head: “This is a treasure personally written by Yuan Bai in their poetic exchange, yet it’s been ruined like this. What a pity, what a pity.”
Among those present today, in terms of jianghu status, the most revered were the three elders Huijue, Huiyuan, and Huiding of Baituo Temple. These three old monks had white beards and eyebrows, lived long in ancient temples, and almost never left the mountain gates. Many people were seeing their true appearance for the first time today.
Of the same generation as the three elders was Purple Sun True Person, master of Purple Sun Sect. This middle-aged Taoist was over fifty years old. Though much younger than the three elders, he had been famous in jianghu for a long time and had established his own sect on Mount Laojun near Luoyang, truly prestigious and mighty.
Master Duanchen’s school, Lotus Flower Sect, was a branch of the ancestral temple at Xiangshan. She brought over ten monastic and lay disciples to sit with the three elders. Next was Beggar Gang, which had the most disciples in jianghu, and the wealthy Songyang Academy. These five sects occupied the most prominent positions in Golden Wave Pavilion.
The gazes of several clergy focused on the blood-red lynx on the wall with madness in its eyes, all feeling an ominous premonition rising in their hearts.
The donkey-riding lady’s disappearance in Luoyang was like a fuse, causing Canyang Court members to go on a killing spree in the city. To prevent the slaughter from spreading further, Master Duanchen reported to the ancestral temple, then took the lead in organizing several major sects to invite Canyang Court to cease fighting and negotiate peace at Golden Wave Pavilion.
Baituo Temple, Purple Sun Sect, Lotus Flower Sect and other sects prided themselves as orthodox schools and all came empty-handed, but the other jianghu heroes all had swords and weapons at their waists, looking ready for battle. The atmosphere inside Golden Wave Pavilion was like an arrow on the bowstring, ready to release.
Purple Sun True Person looked around, slightly frowning, and asked, “Will they really come?”
Master Duanchen said gravely, “Canyang Court has bloodily washed Luoyang – they’ve already openly declared war. Since they don’t fear making enemies of Central Plains martial arts, I suppose they wouldn’t fear a peace negotiation gathering either.”
Purple Sun True Person lowered his voice, using internal energy to speak to several sect masters: “Canyang Court is so unscrupulous and lawless – could they be relying on relics left by Chen Shigu, that legendary ‘divine artifact’?”
Elder Huiding’s face was full of worry as an image from many years ago of that rebellious and wild figure surfaced in his mind. He sighed, “If that thing really exists, it should be called a ‘disaster’ instead.”
The proprietor had prepared vegetarian meals and tea specifically for the clergy as instructed beforehand. Before the heroes were placed exquisite delicacies that Golden Wave Pavilion prided itself on, but no one was in the mood to taste them, just making absent-minded small talk. Those with quick tempers drank cup after cup, trying to ease their inner tension.
In the blink of an eye it was noon, and several people of varying appearances walked into the restaurant one after another. There was a wandering woman holding a pipa, a disheveled-haired ascetic, an elegantly refined Taoist…
Unlike other gangs that came in groups, they didn’t travel together, treating each other like strangers, not wanting to get close to each other. Each found a scattered seat in the hall and sat down casually.
These scattered disciples of Canyang Court just walked leisurely and unhurriedly into this dangerous place like a dragon’s pool and tiger’s den.