An He Zhuan: Act One – Chapter 1

“In gentle rain, all plants renew; with one thunder, the dormant insects stir…”

In the Jiangnan region during the third month, a sudden spring thunder rolled across the sky, followed by a fine drizzle. The air quickly filled with the fragrance of damp earth. Such weather was perfect for staying home, warming a pot of wine, and drifting off to sleep wrapped in quilts while listening to the soft patter of rain against windows. Of course, it was also perfect weather for assassins to strike and soul collectors to harvest.

A young man wearing purple boots slowly approached a gray-white mountain manor. His boots were exquisite, embroidered with gold thread in the pattern of a vivid eight-clawed flying dragon. He seemed to cherish these boots greatly, carefully avoiding puddles along his path. Despite the persistent spring rain, his purple boots remained pristine and unblemished. He raised his hand and gently knocked on the manor’s main gate.

“Dong dong dong.” The knocking echoed through the manor, but no one answered.

“No one home?” The purple-booted man turned around, puzzled.

A muscular man carrying a ring-pommel broadsword on his back stood there, looking up at the manor’s signboard. “White Crane Medical Manor,” he muttered. “This should be the right place.”

The purple-booted man frowned slightly. “Perhaps we’re too late?”

“Not late, not late—rather, it seems you arrived a bit too early.” A mocking voice suddenly sounded from nearby. The muscular man whirled around, instantly drawing his ring-pommel broadsword, and growled, “Su Changhe!”

The newcomer sported a meticulously groomed mustache and wore a playful smile. He continuously toyed with a dagger in his hands as he slowly approached the muscular man. “No need to be so agitated, no need to be so agitated. Your loud voice might even stop this gentle spring rain.”

The purple-booted man stepped forward to stand beside the muscular man. “Who wouldn’t be on edge meeting the most fearsome assassin of the Su family, the renowned Undertaker?”

Su Changhe waved his hands repeatedly. “You’re too formal, too formal. We’re all brothers of the same house—what’s there to fear? Besides, you two are also elite members of this generation’s Xie family: Purple Boot Ghost Xie Changze and Blade Yama Xie Jinke!” Su Changhe stopped ten paces away from them, his fingers twirling slightly as he tucked the dagger into his sleeve. He raised two fingers to stroke his mustache.

Xie Jinke eyed Su Changhe warily. “You’re here to execute a mission?”

Instead of answering directly, Su Changhe glanced at the manor’s signboard and replied leisurely, “Then are you two here to execute a mission as well?”

Xie Jinke fell silent, his hand reaching back to grip the handle of his ring-pommel broadsword. The atmosphere suddenly grew tense. Su Changhe continued to smile faintly, though the dagger in his sleeve once again revealed a cold glint.

“Ahem.” Xie Changze coughed lightly, somewhat easing the tension in the air. He smiled and said, “Dark River’s rules state that before a mission is complete, one must not speak of it to anyone, even family members.”

“Oh.” Su Changhe nodded. “Well, I don’t have any mission. I just suffered a minor injury during my last assignment and heard there was a famous physician at this White Crane Medical Manor, so I came to take a look.”

“The Mu family’s Life and Death Pharmacy in Dark River has countless renowned physicians. Why travel so far for a minor injury?” Xie Jinke said gravely.

“I’ve arranged many funerals for others, but I am quite afraid of death. So I seek the best physician in the world. And in this White Crane Medical Manor, they say the junior uncle of Medicine King Xin Baicao resides here. Since Xin Baicao has been in seclusion for many years, wouldn’t you say the person living here must be the finest physician under heaven?” Su Changhe continued smiling faintly, the corners of his eyes lifting slightly, his tone taking on a provocative edge.

Xie Jinke finally drew his ring-pommel broadsword and declared in a low voice, “Then Brother Su has come at an unfortunate time. Our mission is to kill everyone in this manner.”

“I don’t believe you,” Su Changhe shook his head.

Xie Jinke was taken aback. “You don’t believe me?”

“Show me the mission scroll from the Soul-Summoning Hall, and I’ll believe you,” Su Changhe said slowly.

Xie Jinke’s mouth twitched slightly. “Are you joking?”

“Well, if you won’t show me the scroll, I won’t believe you. If I’m interfering with your mission, you can report my name to the Soul-Summoning Hall afterward. If they find me guilty, I’ll accept the Nine Blade Ten Holes punishment myself. How’s that?” Su Changhe raised his eyebrows.

Xie Jinke gave a cold laugh and lifted his broadsword slightly. “So you’re determined to make an enemy of our Xie family?”

“Assassins at the door, yet they knock and wait for a response? Such ceremony? Do you think you’re Su Muyu?” Su Changhe strode forward. “If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing. Among Dark River’s three families, your Xie family has always been the most brainless!”

“What did you say?!” Xie Jinke roared, raising his broadsword and bringing it down with a slash that scattered rainwater.

“I never repeat myself!” Su Changhe had already flashed to Xie Jinke’s front, dodging the mighty slash. His dagger glinted as it swept toward Xie Jinke’s throat. Xie Jinke hurriedly dodged sideways and withdrew his broadsword, but Su Changhe’s attack was just a feint. His left hand shot out and grabbed Xie Jinke’s nape, and with a shout, he slammed Xie Jinke to the ground. Despite Xie Jinke’s burly frame, Su Changhe had pinned him effortlessly.

Xie Jinke roared in anger, trying to force himself up, but Su Changhe had already raised his dagger again…

Dark River had an iron law: never kill your own. But everyone in Dark River knew that Su Changhe was a madman who respected no rules!

“Stop!” Xie Changze drew the flexible blade at his waist and rushed forward to intervene, but there was a clear “ding!” as a golden ring appeared from nowhere, striking his blade and forcing him back three steps. When he steadied himself and looked anxiously toward Xie Jinke, he saw his companion lying on the ground, drenched in cold sweat but unharmed. Su Changhe stood there, holding up his dagger with an identical golden ring embedded in it—apparently, the ring had blocked his killing strike.

Su Changhe looked down and smiled helplessly. “Uncle Zhe.”

“This kid, fighting with family members, no respect for rules.” The accented Mandarin was accompanied by the appearance of a tall, thin man wearing a bamboo hat. He approached slowly, holding a pipe in one hand and a Buddhist staff in the other. The staff was covered in golden rings that clinked melodiously as he walked.

“Soul-Summoning Bell, Death-Snatching Rings, Su Zhe of the Su family,” Xie Changze narrowed his eyes.

“You Xie family folks have no manners either. I’m decades older than you, yet you don’t even call me Uncle?” Su Zhe stopped ten paces away, forcefully planting his Buddhist staff three inches into the ground. He raised his pipe and took a leisurely puff.

Xie Changze hastily sheathed his flexible blade and bowed his head. “Xie Changze of the Xie family pays respects to Uncle Zhe.”

Su Zhe slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke, then took out a betel nut from his robes and popped it into his mouth, chewing leisurely. He offered one to Su Changhe: “Want some?”

Su Changhe sighed. “Uncle Zhe, your Mandarin is as terrible as ever. No thanks!”

“What a shame. One puff of smoke, one betel nut—that’s a good life,” Su Zhe closed his eyes, seemingly lost in the pleasure of tobacco and betel nut.

After a while, Su Zhe spat out the remnants and said slowly, holding his pipe: “Was it old Xie Ba who sent you here?”

Xie Changze and Xie Jinke exchanged glances but didn’t answer.

“Everyone came here for the famous doctor, but before the doctor even appears, you start fighting. No manners. Wait! Wait for the doctor to come out!” Su Zhe tapped his pipe against the Buddhist staff, making the golden rings chime again.

Su Changhe put away his dagger and smiled. “Uncle Zhe speaks truly.”

Xie Changze said gravely, “We knocked earlier, but there was no response.”

“Then I’ll knock again. You Xie family folks don’t knock loud enough!” Su Zhe flicked his pipe against the Buddhist staff, sending a golden ring flying. It struck the iron gate of White Crane Medical Manor with a deep “dong” before returning.

Xie Changze and Xie Jinke couldn’t help covering their ears. Anyone with basic internal energy cultivation could feel the power of that knock—the instantaneous impact was nearly equivalent to a Buddhist lion’s roar. Su Changhe remained unfazed, stroking his mustache as he smiled. “Uncle Zhe, is that knocking or trying to kill someone?”

“Look, isn’t the door opening now?” Su Zhe raised his eyebrows.