HomeTales of Dark RiverAn He Zhuan: Act Ten - Chapter 17

An He Zhuan: Act Ten – Chapter 17

Tianqi City, Hundred Knowledge Hall.

The white-haired man wearing a demon mask crushed the paper note in his hand to powder, then burst into delighted laughter: “Hahaha, that fellow did challenge Wushuang!”

“Master, he’s making a name for himself by challenging Wushuang—what are you so pleased about? Zhuo Yue’an…” The young man beside him searched his memory for the name. “Never heard of him.”

These two were Ji Ruofeng, the Master of Hundred Knowledge Hall, and his royal disciple Xiao Chuhe. They had just arrived at the hall when they received this important news.

Ji Ruofeng shook his head: “No, you’ve not only heard of him, you’ve met him and even fought him.”

“Fought him? Did I win or lose?” Xiao Chuhe asked.

Ji Ruofeng smiled: “With a few more years of training, you might have had a chance.”

“Oh, so I lost. That rarely happens. And he’s a swordsman, could he be…” Xiao Chuhe pondered. “But it shouldn’t be him. I remember that person being cold and quiet—how could he do something so attention-grabbing?”

Ji Ruofeng nodded: “I see you’ve guessed his identity.”

Xiao Chuhe was startled: “It is him! That Anhe expert, what was his name… the Umbrella Ghost Su Muyu? Why did he change his name?”

“Zhuo Yue’an is his real name. The young lord of Wujian City—if not for that sudden catastrophe, he would have had the chance to enter the academy when he grew up,” Ji Ruofeng sighed softly. “Fate plays cruel tricks.”

“Shall we go watch the excitement?” Xiao Chuhe asked.

Ji Ruofeng shook his head: “You’re still a prince. Leaving Tianqi City is a major matter, especially going to Wushuang City. It would cause huge trouble if discovered.”

“Fine.” Xiao Chuhe waved dismissively. “Being a prince is so boring. One day when I’m no longer a prince, I’ll roam the martial world with my sword.”

“Hahaha, you’re destined to be emperor.” Ji Ruofeng patted Xiao Chuhe’s shoulder. “The martial world is not your fate.”

“Shh.” Xiao Chuhe made a silencing gesture. “How dare you say such things, Master?”

Ji Ruofeng shrugged: “Why shouldn’t I dare? Your father and uncle begged me to be the White Tiger Envoy. If I’m unhappy one day, I’ll just quit—they’re the ones who’ll suffer.”

“See? What’s so good about being emperor? Even a mere Hundred Knowledge Hall Master has them in such a bind. Being a martial artist is better! If I’m invincible under heaven, I’ll fear nothing and won’t be bound by mundane rules.” Xiao Chuhe smiled. “Master, I’m serious!”

Ji Ruofeng looked into Xiao Chuhe’s eyes, seeing genuine clarity and sincerity. He smiled: “Mere Hundred Knowledge Hall Master, you say? If you want to walk the martial path, Master will accompany you.”

“Good. Then let’s go watch the excitement together.” Xiao Chuhe’s expression instantly changed to a crafty smile.

“You little rascal, so this was your plan all along.” Ji Ruofeng knocked Xiao Chuhe’s head. “This excitement isn’t big enough yet. We need to make it bigger.”

“How much bigger?” Xiao Chuhe asked.

“Without a single Sword Immortal, isn’t it lacking something?” Ji Ruofeng said softly. “Has everything been arranged?”

An iron-masked official emerged from the corner and nodded, his voice deep and heavy: “We had arranged everything before Master’s instructions.”

“Oh? Learning to anticipate my intentions now.” Ji Ruofeng smiled.

Fengxuan City.

Falling Cherry Pavilion.

“These endless summer days are truly unbearable.” An elegant scholar in white robes raised a cup of cool tea and drank it in one go. “Fortunately, this Falling Cherry Pavilion’s cool tea helps me through summer. One cup makes the whole person feel refreshed.”

A monk sat opposite him, looking at a book in hand, smiling: “When you said you wanted to come read here, I didn’t think much of it and invited you. But these past few days you’ve nearly drunk all my tea supplies dry. No, no—before you leave, you must leave me several pieces of your calligraphy, or I’ll have to chase you out now.”

The scholar laughed: “Of course, no problem.”

“Hahaha, calligraphy from the current Scholar Sword Immortal must be quite valuable.” The monk immediately refilled the scholar’s tea.

This scholar was the renowned Scholar Sword Immortal Xie Xuan. Rumors in the martial world said he traveled the world just to read every book—true. After all, he had appeared at the Imperial Academy of Ten Li Langguan not long ago, and now he was at Falling Cherry Pavilion in Fengxuan City.

“Hahaha. I’m called Scholar Sword Immortal firstly because I read extensively, and secondly for my swordsmanship. As for my poetry… forgive me, but it’s unbearable to look at.” Xie Xuan laughed heartily.

Just then, someone appeared at the pavilion’s entrance.

The person wore a bamboo hat with gray gauze hanging down, concealing their face.

The monk’s expression changed slightly, his hand moving to the iron staff beside him.

“No need for alarm, Master Qiu.” Xie Xuan waved. “By your attire, you must be from Hundred Knowledge Hall.”

“Indeed. Hundred Knowledge Hall, Song,” the hat-wearing person replied.

“Does Ji Ruofeng have business with me?” Xie Xuan asked. “Don’t tell me it’s time for another martial ranking. Ask him if he can remove me from whatever Sword Immortal ranking.”

“The martial ranking time hasn’t come yet,” the hat-wearer replied.

“Then what is it?” Xie Xuan asked, puzzled.

“Su Muyu, Clan Head of Anhe’s Su Family, has challenged Wushuang City and will duel City Lord Song Yanhui,” the hat-wearer said slowly.

Xie Xuan frowned slightly: “What does that have to do with me?”

“Sir Xie has read all the books under heaven but hasn’t seen all the swords under heaven. This is a good opportunity,” the hat-wearer said.

In an unnamed small town.

In a tavern without even a sign.

A burly man placed his great sword on the table, grabbed the wine jug and drained it, then wiped his lips and looked at the hat-wearing person sitting across from him: “You fly-like creatures, how do I run into you wherever I go?”

The hat-wearer smiled: “If Master Yan Zhantian doesn’t want to see us, just raise your sword and we’ll all be scared away.”

The name Yan Zhantian had been unknown in the martial world a few years ago, but now he was an existence that everyone feared.

The Rage Sword Immortal Yan Zhantian, among the Five Sword Immortals, carried the heaviest killing intent.

“Hmph.” Yan Zhantian snorted coldly. “I hate you a lot, but that Ji Ruofeng isn’t bad. Speak—what business do you have with me this time?”

“The Hall Master has no business with Master Yan, just an interesting matter he fears you might miss,” the hat-wearer said softly. “An interesting matter concerning swords.”

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