00 – Chapter 1
The drum sounded.
Xu Qiao’s body trembled, and he stopped, lifting his head to gaze at the mountain forest ahead.
In the vast twilight, the many-layered Tiantai Temple built along the mountain slopes was shrouded in increasingly thick mist, hazy and indistinct.
The drum sound penetrated the mist, each beat striking his chest like a hammer, causing his heart and spirit to tremble.
He thought this might be because he was somewhat too tense and too excited.
After all, he had been promoted to Honored Envoy under the Right Protector of the Maitreya Sect for only two years, and the people he was to meet today were the once-famous Ming Sect Demon-Subduing Envoys Yan Wu and Yan Qi.
Ever since the Bright Sect had transformed overnight into a demonic sect, they had been dwelling in seclusion at this Tiantai Temple for many years. In this world, how many people still remember them? How many still knew what kind of men were hidden beneath the dharma names Ming Xin and Ming Xing?
The drum had sounded, and the monks of Tiantai Temple, including those youths sent from various places in eastern Zhejiang to be educated at the temple, should all be gathering in the Great Buddha Hall for evening prayers by now.
No one would know that such a visitor as himself had appeared on Damo Cliff—perhaps only when Yan Wu and Yan Qi once again commanded the winds and clouds would anyone wonder in shock who had the ability and capability to find them and persuade them to emerge from their mountain retreat.
Thinking of this, Xu Qiao’s heart beat even faster. He involuntarily pressed his hand to his chest and took a deep breath, calming himself down.
He waited quietly for a moment, until the chanting voices rolled over the temple halls and spread toward the mountain forest, then he resumed his steps forward.
The autumn sky was high and the moon small. Under the frost-like, clear, and cold white moonlight, Damo Cliff appeared ahead to his left, seemingly within arm’s reach.
Xu Qiao suddenly crouched low.
A youth flew down from Damo Cliff like a bird, apparently extremely familiar with this path, turning left and right without hesitation. His destination was not Tiantai Temple, but the maple grove to the left of Damo Cliff. Xu Qiao held his breath and watched silently as he swept into the maple grove. Without any apparent motion, a sharp knife had appeared in his right hand. His left hand struck the trunk of an old maple tree and borrowed the force to suddenly leap up like an arrow piercing the sky. As the sharp knife stabbed into a maple tree to his right front, his left hand and left foot suddenly hooked onto a branch stretching overhead, abruptly stopping his momentum. The sharp knife was withdrawn, its tip seemingly carrying an extremely small black dot.
The youth examined the tree trunk he had just pierced, nodded to himself with satisfaction, gently blew the black dot off the knife tip, and turned to sweep deeper into the mountain forest.
Xu Qiao hesitated briefly, then ran toward that maple tree.
He had memorized the position clearly, but at the spot where the youth had struck with his knife, there was not the slightest knife mark.
On the ground was only scattered dust; there was no way to find the black dot that had been blown away.
That the youth could strike such a tiny target in the darkness, and could control his knife technique so precisely in rapid motion without the slightest error, was surely not the work of a day or night.
The knife techniques taught at Tiantai Temple had always been bold and sweeping, emphasizing stability like mountains and movement like ocean tides. Where was there such fierce knife momentum and such refined, accurate strength?
This meant that Yan Wu and Yan Qi, after all, could not bear the loneliness and had been secretly teaching disciples all along.
Xu Qiao felt his chances of success had increased somewhat.
He only wondered whether this youth was a mountain resident, or one of the group of youths at Tiantai Temple—at this time, shouldn’t those youths all still be chanting scriptures?
Xu Qiao finally climbed up Damo Cliff.
Under the moonlight, Yan Wu and Yan Qi—or rather Ming Xin and Ming Xing—sat cross-legged with closed eyes in the narrow stone cave, completely indifferent to the arrival of this uninvited guest.
Xu Qiao stared blankly at these two gaunt, aged monks before him. When Yan Wu and Yan Qi had roamed the martial world, he had been merely a small attendant in the Demon-Subduing Hall, only able to look up from afar at these legendary figures. But years had flowed like water, and seemingly in the blink of an eye, he was now looking down upon these aging heroes.
Yet the reputation of Yan Wu and Yan Qi still shook all directions, so much so that merely mentioning them would cause the winds and clouds to change color.
Xu Qiao slowly knelt and said in a low voice: “Honored Envoy Xu Qiao, under the seat of Immovable Wisdom King, respectfully requests that Master Yan Wu and Master Yan Qi move to Yanzhou. The emergence of Maitreya still depends on the support of you two masters.”
He offered up a bronze mirror with both hands. As his fingers brushed across the mirror’s surface, there was a subtle humming sound like a breeze passing through flowers, causing both Yan Wu and Yan Qi to open their eyes.
Xu Qiao angled the bronze mirror toward the bright moon.
That seemingly plain and ordinary bronze mirror, when it reflected moonlight onto the stone wall, showed within its halo what appeared to be a cluster of flames burning and dancing.
Yan Wu and Yan Qi gazed at that cluster of flames, and their calm faces could not help but be swept by various indescribable complex emotions.
Looking at that cluster of blazing flames was like looking at their spirited and magnificent youth, impossible not to evoke many feelings. The silent mountain forest at this moment seemed to have become a faded, retreating background, leaving only that blood and passion burning like flames.
After a long while, Xu Qiao put away the bronze mirror, bowed down again, and slowly but firmly restated his purpose: “Honored Envoy Xu Qiao under the Immovable Wisdom King’s mansion respectfully requests that Master Yan Wu and Master Yan Qi move to Yanzhou to support Maitreya.”
However, the faces of Yan Wu and Yan Qi had already calmed down. They looked at each other and sighed deeply.
Xu Qiao’s heart sank.
Yan Wu slowly said, “We once made a vow before Maitreya Buddha that in this life and this world, we would not leave Damo Cliff.”
Whether Yan Wu’s words were true or false, since he had said this, there was no possibility of breaking the vow.
Yan Wu and Yan Qi closed their eyes again.
Xu Qiao was stunned for a long time, then suddenly said: “Though Master Wu and Master Qi cannot descend the mountain, when the master has business, disciples serve with their labor. Can your disciples perhaps act in your stead?”
Yan Wu and Yan Qi seemed startled and suddenly opened their eyes.
Xu Qiao smiled: “That young brother who came down from Damo Cliff just now has truly excellent skills. No wonder people often say, ‘enlightened masters produce outstanding disciples.’ With that young brother’s foundation, if you two masters are willing to let him enter the world, within three years, he will surely bring glory to the Yan family knife techniques.”
Anyone who heard such praise of their disciple should be pleased, right?
Yan Wu remained silent, but Yan Qi smiled faintly, gazing at Xu Qiao with flickering eyes. After a while, he said, “If he is willing to go, that is up to him. You go speak with him yourself—descend Damo Cliff, turn left, and follow the mountain ravine outside the maple grove toward the upper mountain direction. You will naturally encounter him.”
Xu Qiao stood up. As he was about to leave, he remembered one more thing: “What is that young brother’s name? Where is he from? Does he know the identity of you two masters?”
This last point was crucial.
Yan Qi answered indifferently: “His surname is Meng. He knows who we are. Ask him the rest yourself.”
Xu Qiao bowed deeply and turned to descend the cliff.
He did not see behind him Yan Wu’s pitying gaze, nor Yan Qi’s eerie smile.
He only thought that no matter what, one should not return empty-handed from entering a treasure mountain.
When he saw that youth practicing with his knife under the moon again, Xu Qiao’s heart was greatly excited. From several zhang away, he called out in a low voice: “Brother Meng!”
The youth was startled, quickly sheathed his knife, and turned around.
The middle-aged man in his thirties with a modest appearance running toward him under the autumn moon was unknown to him, yet he could find this place and call him “Brother Meng.”
Xu Qiao got too close and immediately felt the piercing, cold, frost-like aura rushing toward him. He stepped back, and after steadying himself, cupped his hands and smiled: “I have just descended from Damo Cliff. Your master directed me to come here to meet Brother Meng and discuss an important matter.”
He studied this handsome youth who appeared to be only seventeen or eighteen years old, yet was extraordinarily calm and composed. His words just now contained too many implications—I know your master-disciple relationship, my relationship with your masters is extraordinary, your masters have tacitly approved of my intentions—but this youth only waited unmoved for his continuation.
Xu Qiao was greatly impressed. Truly worthy of being a disciple of the Yan family, with the bearing of a great general, indeed exceptional.
He carefully explained his intentions.
The youth listened quietly to the end, neither surprised nor excited. Xu Qiao gradually felt something was wrong. For such a great matter, why would there be such a reaction?
But his alarm was already a step too late.
The youth’s right hand moved slightly. Under the moon, there was a glimpse of white light flashing, and Xu Qiao felt his chest go cold. After a moment, he looked down in dawning realization at the sharp knife embedded in his chest.
The youth looked at him with pity, as if looking at a fool: “Masters Ming Xin and Ming Xing cannot kill. When they told you to come find me, they were telling me to kill you.”
Xu Qiao felt all the blood in his body slowly congealing. He mumbled: “Even if Master Wu and Master Qi are unwilling to leave the mountain, why…”
The youth watched his face gradually pale, then suddenly smiled slightly: “My name is Meng Jianqing. My father is a centurion at Taizhou Ninghai Guard.”
A centurion at Taizhou Ninghai Guard… A disciple from such a family background, if he were truly loyal to the court, how could he possibly follow him into the Maitreya Sect? How could he let him glimpse the unspeakable master-disciple relationship with Yan Wu and Yan Qi? And if he had ulterior motives, how could he let someone easily see through the secret of his family’s hidden presence in the military?
So that was it…
When he saw that youth practicing with the knife, he mentioned that the knife-practicing youth to Yan Wu and Yan Qi, his fate had already been sealed. His former heroic aspirations, his satisfaction over the past two years, yet ended in such a silent mountain forest, ended at a moment he could never have dreamed of?
Before falling, he dimly heard Meng Jianqing’s sigh by his ear: “How could you be so unlucky as to drag me into this?”
Yan Wu and Yan Qi waited for Meng Jianqing’s return without surprise.
Meng Jianqing sat down. In this autumn night, he wore only a single layer of clothing, yet steam was still rising from his body.
Yan Wu asked only one question: “Finished?”
Meng Jianqing answered: “Finished. I threw the body in Wild Wolf Valley—by now, it’s probably become remains. As for his clothes and all personal belongings, I threw them all into Black Wind Cave.”
This meant that in this one hour, Meng Jianqing had already traveled back and forth fifty li through mountain terrain, with half the journey carrying that corpse—no wonder he was so hot and steaming with sweat.
Yan Qi looked at him with narrowed, smiling eyes: “Not bad, not bad. Clever and decisive enough. Worthy of the years of effort our brothers have invested. What did Xu Qiao say to you? Were you frightened?”
Having trained Meng Jianqing for several years, how could he not see the anxiety and unease hidden behind this youth’s current composure?
Meng Jianqing’s face unconsciously tightened. He secretly clenched his teeth and answered: “Ever since learning the lay names of my two masters, Jianqing feels there is nothing more shocking in the world.”
Even the usually stern and silent Yan Wu could not help but smile.
Three days ago, Meng Jianqing had learned what kind of trap he had accidentally stepped into five years before.
Among the group of naive youths who took turns bringing food up to Damo Cliff, Yan Wu and Yan Qi had chosen him alone to teach knife techniques. After witnessing those knife techniques that could slash down flying birds like meteors and split ground boulders like lightning, he had felt only excitement, never imagining such complex stories lay behind it all. If he had known earlier… if he had known earlier… could he have resisted the temptation of such knife techniques?
He should have noticed the strangeness long ago. Why couldn’t he tell anyone about this? Why could he only practice knife techniques alone in the mountain forest at night? Why did even the wild beasts he killed with his knife have to be destroyed without a trace, just so no one could discern his knife techniques?
But he had been completely absorbed in his rapid progress, absorbed in the intoxicating feeling of every knife flowing smoothly in his hands as if it were part of his own body. Holding a knife under perfect control was like being able to freely grasp his destiny—this feeling was truly intoxicating.
Until three days ago…
Why had Yan Wu and Yan Qi suddenly told him the truth? Was it because they had heard news of the Maitreya Sect uprising in Yanzhou and felt that those old companions would find their way here sooner or later?
Yan Qi suddenly said, “Using someone like Xu Qiao to break your killing precept isn’t bad. But it seems you did it too cleanly—even I would have to admit inferiority.”
Meng Jianqing was only momentarily stunned before saying, “Before coming to Tiantai Temple, I had already broken the killing precept when following my father in bandit suppression.”
Both Yan Wu and Yan Qi were startled. Yan Qi waved his hand dully: “Go on, go on.”
Only then did they understand why, among so many people over so many years, they had chosen Meng Jianqing alone.
That youth who had first arrived at the mountain had already tasted blood and grown accustomed to life-and-death struggles.