An Jiu found a hiding place to wait for the Bounty List’s representative.
The night watchman’s footsteps drew closer. With the outcome decided, the crowd dispersed quietly.
Around a quarter past midnight, a person wearing a silver mask arrived at the notice board. They glanced at the Black List, took it down, and waited with hands behind their back.
Seeing someone approach, An Jiu knew it was the Bounty List representative and followed.
The masked person collected all the lists and finally addressed An Jiu, “With your strength, you’d have few rivals in all of Song Dynasty. Why not take the Black List?”
Again, this question.
The other four people also looked at her, hoping to gain some insights from such a rare master who had reached the State of Emptiness.
“Am I not allowed to take a White List?” An Jiu countered.
Her clear, youthful voice startled everyone present and those hidden nearby. She was a very young woman!
The silver-masked man composed himself. “Of course you can.”
An Jiu said no more. Since she could claim the bounty effectively, what else was there to explain?
The eccentricity of great masters wasn’t without reason. When one dedicates their entire life to a single pursuit, neglecting all else, normalcy becomes difficult.
Knowing better than to press further, the masked man said, “Please follow me.”
The bounty claimants automatically stood back, letting An Jiu go first.
In the jianghu world, strength commanded respect, especially for someone as far beyond them as An Jiu.
They followed the masked man to a simple hut. It was clean, with shelves lining the walls holding numerous scrolls. A long table stood in the center, surrounded by six chairs.
“The details for today’s targets are all here. Feel free to read them and leave before dawn,” the masked man said, pausing before continuing, “The longest time to complete a White List bounty is four months. Once the task is completed within this timeframe, bring the proof to the notice board and contact the person who posted it. The reward will be paid in full.”
He glanced around. “If there are no questions, I’ll take my leave.”
Seeing everyone move to the bookshelves, he promptly left.
An Jiu found the information about her target on the shelves.
The man was named Liu Chi, known as Big Liu. He reportedly began his jianghu career at thirteen, becoming an outer disciple of Wudang. Later expelled for spying on secret techniques, he became a mountain bandit lord for twenty-nine years, now ruling over Funiu Mountain.
Big Liu’s stronghold, Tiger Might Fortress, was on Taiping Peak in the Funiu Mountain range. He commanded over 300 men, mostly novice martial artists or even non-practitioners with only brute strength – a true rabble.
Taiping Peak? The document only named the peak without a map.
The room was silent. The other four, while reading their materials, kept glancing at An Jiu. Seeing her intense focus, they wondered why such a supreme master needed to study so carefully to take down a mere bandit leader.
An Jiu had always considered herself weak, aware that other martial artists possessed internal energy while she didn’t. She compensated with diligence, unaware that her current strength placed her among the top experts in the jianghu world. Unless ambushed by three or four eighth or ninth-rank masters, she was unlikely to lose in combat.
After reading all the materials, An Jiu quickly left, circling the city twice to lose her tail before returning to Meihua Lane to prepare for her journey.
During her trials at Konghe Court, she had visited Funiu Mountain once and was somewhat familiar with the route. But the Funiu Mountain range was vast – who knew where the small Taiping Peak was located?
Sheng Changying… An Jiu thought of him again.
On the island, everyone except for one person was asleep.
As An Jiu headed towards Sheng Changying’s quarters, she saw that person ambling over with a pipe, blowing smoke rings. “Why are you running to a man’s room in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?”
“Why are you blocking a woman’s path in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?” An Jiu retorted.
Mo Sigui blew out another smoke ring, irritated. “You think I want to be up at night blocking your way?!”
“Move aside, I have important business,” An Jiu said, trying to go around him.
Mo Sigui flashed in front of her again. “Keep me company for a while.”
His rapid improvement surprised An Jiu, but considering his unique physique, she dismissed it. “I’m busy. Don’t you have two tigers? Chat with them.”
“One’s a clueless fool, the other’s so arrogant it’s maddening. I’ve had enough!” Mo Sigui had tried confiding in the tigers, only to be met with Da Jiu’s blank stare and Xiao Yue’s complete indifference.
Finishing his smoke, Mo Sigui tapped the pipe against a nearby tree. “What’s your business? If it’s interesting, take me along.”
An Jiu looked at him and suddenly smiled. “Interesting, very interesting.”
“Don’t… don’t look at me like that. It’s creepy,” Mo Sigui shuddered. “I think I need to reconsider.”
“I’m going to Funiu Mountain. There are plenty of rare herbs there,” An Jiu said. “How about it?”
Funiu Mountain’s climate was ideal for various medicinal herbs. Mo Sigui had been there countless times and was very familiar with the area. “What are you going to Funiu Mountain for?”
“Do you know of a Taiping Peak there?” An Jiu asked.
Mo Sigui thought for a moment. “The territory of Tiger Might Fortress?”
An Jiu was elated – this was exactly what she needed. But then she remembered Mei Jiu’s poison. “Have you prepared the antidote for Mei Jiu?”
“You think antidotes are like everyday meals, ready whenever you want?” Mo Sigui scoffed.
“How much longer will it take?” She considered waiting until Mo Sigui cured Mei Jiu before completing her bounty mission.
“Don’t remind me! Just thinking about it has robbed me of all sleep again!” Mo Sigui sighed deeply. The sleeping medication he had adjusted three months ago had lost its effect, and working on the poison antidote kept him constantly stimulated. If this continued, he’d soon collapse.
Ignoring his complaints, An Jiu pressed, “How much longer exactly?”
“I don’t know. It depends on my mood,” Mo Sigui said, turning to leave.
An Jiu followed. “What kind of mood would help you prepare it quickly?”
“A good mood.”
An Jiu thought seriously. “How about I sing you a song?”
This was her most presentable talent, in her opinion.
Mo Sigui hurriedly said, “Please don’t. I’m afraid I might take my own life after hearing it.”
An Jiu automatically assumed he meant her previous songs were too sad. “Don’t worry, I’ll sing a cheerful one this time.”
“Don’t push me,” Mo Sigui looked at her in despair. “Push me further and I’ll die right here!”