“Looking north…”

“The last boat of the year… looking north…” Distant boatman calls drifted melodiously like singing—this was the third station of the Beijing-Hangzhou Grand Canal, the Yangzhou ferry, where the last boat of the year was about to depart.

Tomorrow would be New Year’s Eve. Travelers who should return home had already left. The boatman called repeatedly but few passengers came over. Looking at this deserted scene, it seemed this boat wouldn’t be full.

Tonight was indeed bitterly cold. The boatman lazily guarded the ferry crossing as white snow stirred up waves of cold mist drifting over the river surface, chilling his nose until it itched. Just as he was about to sneeze, he heard several “ah-choo, ah-choo” sounds from behind—someone had beaten him to it with a loud sneeze. Ah-choo! Not to be outdone, the boatman pinched his nose and blew hard several times, expelling snot before turning to look. He saw a beautiful woman of fine age and graceful form, wearing a cloak and standing by the shore—it was she who had been sneezing.

The cold wind kept blowing. The beauty took out a handkerchief to wipe away her snot and coughed: “Do you… does your boat go toward Shandong?” The boatman saw she held a thick book in both arms without any luggage, not at all like someone about to board a boat, and couldn’t help but wonder: “The boat goes as far as Xuzhou, which isn’t far from Jining. How about it? Are you also boarding the boat?”

The beauty’s powder-white face was frozen red. Hearing this, she suddenly raised her head, slightly opened her cherry lips, and softly said: “Ha…” In Shandong dialect, drinking water was called “ha water”—apparently this beauty was thirsty. With her warbling voice and cherry lips, when the boatman saw her vermillion lips slightly parted, she looked truly enchanting. His heart couldn’t help but stir as he smiled: “Haha? Are you from Shandong, miss?”

The boatman was about to approach when suddenly he heard a “choo” sound—the beauty had actually sneezed.

Ha… choo… ha… choo! Ah-choo! Ah-choo! Ah-choo!

After five thunderous sneezes, it indeed began raining. Regardless of beauty or ugliness, old or young, anyone with a cold was bound to have a runny nose. Looking at that beauty’s face, white with a rosy tinge and beautiful features, but with two lines of snot hanging from her nose tip—it looked truly incongruous.

The beauty raised her handkerchief to blow her nose, gasped for breath, and said hoarsely: “I’m boarding the boat to find a friend. You… if you see a noodle seller coming to board the boat later, quickly report it.” The boatman said strangely: “A noodle seller?” The beauty had no strength for more words and just threw broken silver from her chest to reward the boatman. The man caught it with both hands, overjoyed, and was about to thank her when suddenly the beauty raised her head and “ha-ed” again. The boatman’s expression changed, deeply afraid of catching the cold, and hurried away.

The beauty raised her handkerchief to cover her nose—her cold was quite severe. Indeed, Young Master Qiong Fang had arrived. Martial artists were strong and sturdy, rarely falling ill, but she had gone barefoot at night to the haunted house, then chased Lu Yun in her undergarments in the evening, stubbornly opposing her body. No matter how great one’s foundation, it wasn’t enough for such abuse, finally resulting in catching cold and falling ill.

Heavy snow drifted down over the great river, looking somewhat poetic. Qiong Fang held that biographical compendium in her arms, but sneezed every three steps and shivered every five, having to huddle in a corner of the deck waiting for that annoying fellow to arrive.

Last night she caught cold for him, tonight she rushed about for him… that fellow was truly a bastard… If she encountered him later and didn’t sneeze ten times at him and return the cold with both hands, it would be hard to vent her hatred.

He would come, wouldn’t he… Thinking of that melancholy face, Qiong Fang suddenly lowered her head and gently bit her lower lip.

Great trees a thousand zhang tall, fallen leaves return to their roots. Confucian disciples from Qilu, as long as they didn’t die in great calamity, would surely find ways to return to their homeland… And this Yangzhou ferry crossing was also the nearest route home.

Why look for him? Qiong Fang needed no thought—she could find a hundred reasons at any time. Purple Cloud Pavilion lacked a chief martial arts instructor, Grandfather lacked a champion scholar disciple, she herself owed a great bodyguard, and even Ying also needed someone to discuss swordplay with. In any case, regardless of cost or means, she just had to see him and drag him back to Beijing.

Her forehead felt like it was burning. Poor Qiong Fang waited for the rabbit, but the rabbit wasn’t seen and she herself was about to faint. In her dazed state, illusions appeared before her eyes—it seemed the Great Water Monster was lecturing loudly on Purple Cloud Pavilion’s podium, Grandfather was smiling at the side giving thumbs up, Ying was also full of admiration, and she herself jumped onto the Great Water Monster’s back and let him carry her…

Everything was there… Qiong Fang lowered her head in fantasy, a foolish smile at the corner of her mouth as if she’d become that carefree little girl again.

With starry eyes lightly closed and a smile at her lips, tonight she wore a cloak covering her male scholar’s outfit. Tonight she looked just like that empress aunt—white with a rosy tinge, lightly frowning with clever smiles, those moist cherry lips seeming able to bewitch souls, making one involuntarily want to lift her delicate chin and plant a deep kiss…

“Miss! Miss!” Shouts came from behind, but Qiong Fang was completely unaware. Usually before others she was always “young master” this and “young master” that—no one ever called her “miss.” Moreover, in her current drowsy state, how could she hear?

“Miss!” The shouts came again from behind, and her head was even patted once. Qiong Fang slightly opened her eyes and said joyfully: “Lu Yun? You’ve finally come!” She hurriedly turned around to see a young master standing before her. Looking at his hair slicked shiny and his body doused in heavy fragrance—where was the poor noodle seller? This was a wealthy young master.

Qiong Fang sneezed and glanced at the man sideways, saying coldly: “Which hand hit me? Stretch it out.” Just as she was about to chop off the paw, she saw the young master bare his teeth in a white smile and say ingratiatingly: “Miss, are you waiting for someone?”

Qiong Fang made a “huh” sound, wiped her red nose tip, and nodded: “Yes, how did you know?”

The young master smiled: “I saw you holding a handkerchief alone on the boat, weeping and choking with sobs—I could tell at a glance you were waiting for someone.”

Qiong Fang looked down and indeed saw she was holding a handkerchief, which did look somewhat like crying. She blew her nose and said: “Choo.” “Choo” meant “scram”—best to scram quickly. The man heard her stern tone but wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He looked Qiong Fang up and down, suddenly showing a shocked expression and saying anxiously: “Miss, you… you look like someone…”

The first of the three great methods of false pretense was called “most familiar face”—when encountering beautiful women on the road, they either resembled one’s mother or one’s grandmother. Hearing this, Qiong Fang couldn’t help but laugh in spite of herself, thinking: “So this is someone trying to strike up a conversation. I’ve finally encountered one.”

In the past, if she met boring men, they’d first have to get past Fu Yuanying. The veteran swordsman would just come over and cough lightly twice, casually revealing the long sword at his waist, and the person would flee in terror. If Su Ying accompanied her, with his handsome and elegant appearance, no one would come over asking for trouble. She hadn’t expected that being alone tonight, she’d actually run into the legendary boring man—it was quite unexpected.

Qiong Fang had never been approached by men in her life and was somewhat curious. She couldn’t help but smile: “I look familiar—do I resemble your ancestor?”

Hearing this beauty speak so crudely, the man’s face showed embarrassment as he hurried to say: “What are you saying, what are you saying? Miss is young and beautiful, while my wife is a sixty-year-old woman—not similar at all, not at all.” Qiong Fang pouted and said resentfully: “What a pity—I thought I’d met a grandson. How annoying.” Just as she was about to turn and leave, she suddenly saw the young master’s eyes redden with tears as he choked up: “Miss, wait… you look very much like… very much like my… my…” Qiong Fang heard him hesitate to speak and couldn’t help but ask curiously: “Your what?”

The young master said tearfully: “My wife died ten years ago. When I first saw you, I felt you looked exactly like her and couldn’t move my gaze away.” Since his wife had died, Qiong Fang naturally felt compassion and said gently: “So that’s it. You must miss her very much?”

Seeing the beauty’s eyes show gentle light as she asked with pity, hope naturally arose infinitely in the young master’s heart as he choked up: “Yes, there’s even a poem as proof.” He immediately recited: “Ten years of life and death, two vast separations, not thinking of you yet hard to forget. A thousand li lonely grave, nowhere to speak of desolation…”

This person’s skill was profound—using this move of Su Dongpo’s “Jiang Cheng Zi,” he had indeed conquered all over the great river’s north and south, invincible. Seeing Qiong Fang sigh repeatedly, he grew bolder and reached out to touch her fragrant shoulder, continuing to recite: “Night came, a quiet dream suddenly returned home, by the small window, just…” Before he could say “arranging makeup,” his back received a great force and his entire person flew out of the boat’s railing.

Splash! Water splashed as two beast claws appeared on the river surface. Floating up and down, he happened to recite “looking at each other speechlessly with only a thousand lines of tears.” The boatmen nearby heard the recitation and all asked in surprise: “What happened? Why is he soaking in the water with a thousand lines of tears?”

Qiong Fang looked sympathetic and said ethereally: “This young master misses his deceased wife—he went to find his wife.” The boatmen exclaimed: “Find his wife? He went to find her in the water?” Qiong Fang sighed: “No choice. The paths of the underworld differ, yin and yang follow different routes. I couldn’t bear to see him heartbroken, so I sent him on his way.” As she spoke, she took out her fire gun and looked at the crowd of travelers and boatmen, sighing: “Are there any among you whose wives have died? Come up together—it’s good to have companions on the road for mutual care.”

The boatmen were greatly alarmed and naturally scattered. Seeing the beast claws being fished up to go roast beast hair on shore, Qiong Fang closed her eyes and sighed ethereally: “Lu Yun… if you don’t come soon, I’m going to get angry…”

The cold wind blew, truly causing a splitting headache. On this small New Year’s Eve night, boat passengers were sparse—she just couldn’t see that figure.

Just as she was vexed, suddenly someone bumped her buttocks.

Die under peonies, become a romantic ghost—were there really so many? Qiong Fang angrily said: “Audacious! Who else has a dead wife?” In great anger, her left elbow struck backward, her form spun as her angry fist struck out. Even if Lu Yun with a mouthful of beast teeth stood before her, they wouldn’t be safe.

Just as she was about to hit an unlucky fellow, suddenly she stopped her fist and stared blankly at a sedan chair before her.

The boat body trembled slightly. There was no one molesting her nearby—only an eight-man sedan chair had come onto the deck. Looking at this sedan chair’s impressive majesty—red lacquered carving, gold-plated copper top, especially the lanterns hanging high at the four corners, illuminating the deck in red light—it looked extremely eye-catching.

Rare noble guests had arrived. The boat owner’s face was already full of smiles, hands holding gold ingots, smiling as he directed boatmen helpers while boxes of luggage were carried onto the boat. Qiong Fang secretly marveled, thinking: “This person has such grand style—could it be a prince on tour?”

At that time, laws were strict. Ordinary prefects and magistrates on tour at most used two-man shoulder-carried soft chairs—one had to be third rank or above to ride a four-man sedan. Given this style, the person in the sedan was either a prince’s consort or an extremely high noble, one of the Three Dukes or Three Guardians. But strangely, the current dynasty’s Three Dukes only had one “Junior Preceptor” Tao Xianzu. This doddering old man was ninety years old with a salary of 100,000 shi—living to old age and receiving salary to old age, his descendants honored him like an ancestral tablet. How could they let him leave the capital? Looking again at the princes of the realm, each had their fiefdoms—who would dare arbitrarily come to Yangzhou?

Qiong Fang was familiar with Beijing figures but couldn’t guess the sedan occupant’s identity, secretly puzzled: “Who exactly is in the sedan? Could there be a consort secretly traveling south?”

Thinking this, her gaze turned to the sedan bearers. She saw them with white cloth wrapped around their heads and wearing white robes. Her heart grew curious as she thought: “Foreign people? How could this be?” Yangzhou’s trade was prosperous—though there were Arab, Persian, and Indian merchants gathered here, foreigners riding sedans through the streets would be too conspicuous. She rubbed her eyes, thinking: “Strange, whose sedan is this exactly? I must see clearly.”

At this time, the magnificent sedan had long stopped on deck, but its owner showed no intention of leaving. One could vaguely see someone sitting upright behind the curtain, but their appearance was indistinct. Several sedan bearers gathered around, first setting down the footstool, then lighting charcoal braziers beside the sedan for warmth. The ceremonial carriage followed ancient rites perfectly—this made Qiong Fang understand the way of things and she couldn’t help but be greatly shocked: “Someone from the imperial family!”

To know a scholar-official’s level of cultivation, one needn’t observe their conversation face-to-face—just look at their ceremonial guard, clothing, and carriage, and you’d know the essence.

Last month, Juan’er’s senior sister had toured the streets. At that time, Qiong Fang observed coldly and only felt the Grand Commander’s wife’s scene was grand with many escort troops, but because the organizers lacked learning, it merely drew people’s laughter and pointing, showing no dignity at all. In contrast, this sedan was extremely restrained—without needing gongs, drums, songs, or dances, just a few small arrangements already displayed extraordinary majesty. In terms of learning alone, it was hundreds of times superior to Yan Ting.

Qiong Fang watched with complete bewilderment, thinking: “So it’s a foreign prince—no wonder I don’t recognize them. I’ll ask Zhe’er Dan to come look later.” Zhe’er Dan came from the northern Mongols, but these sedan bearers wore Western Hui clothing, looking like Turkic people. However, Qiong Fang, being a proud daughter of the Central Plains, treated all Eastern Yi, Western Rong, Southern Man, and Northern Di the same. As for whether Zhe’er Dan’s Mongolian could communicate with them, in her feverish dizziness, how could she have energy for deep thought?

No matter who was who, Qiong Fang had only come tonight for Lu Yun. As long as the Great Water Monster wasn’t hiding in the sedan, it wasn’t her concern.

She shook her head, put the matter aside, and concentrated on waiting again.

The snow grew heavier, cold mist rose from the river surface. If this snow continued falling, water transport might be cut off and this boat couldn’t sail. Qiong Fang raised her hands, continuously breathing warmth, hoping the wind and snow would grow stronger—if Lu Yun were trapped in Yangzhou, it would be easier to find him.

Just as she was waiting, suddenly the bell of Tianning Temple rang. The boat owner led several sailors from the stern, untying ropes and raising anchors. The boat owner counted heads up and down—this boat could sail at any time. Seeing Lu Yun hadn’t come, Qiong Fang knew she’d made a wasted trip. Also burning with fever and having lost her temper, she decided to hurriedly disembark, go home to sleep first, then talk later.

Just as she was about to walk onto the gangplank, suddenly a great shout came from the opposite shore: “Wait!” Snow flew and thick fog drifted. In the fog, human figures were indistinct, but hearing steady footsteps, someone else was coming.

“Lu Yun?” Qiong Fang’s heart jumped with anticipation as she stepped aside to let the newcomer board.

The thick fog parted as a man walked forward. She saw this person had an iron pipa at his waist, worried brows and bitter mouth, eyebrows curving downward, paired with those half-squinting old eyes—where was Lu Yun? This was a black crow flying over.

With the world unsettled, all the handsome men had disappeared, leaving only crows flying everywhere. Qiong Fang glared at the thief crow once, her heart depressed as she was about to walk down from the boat. Just as her feet moved, she saw the crow man standing straight on the gangplank, blocking her path.

The gangplank was narrow—if two people walked together, she’d have to press tightly against the other person, letting him take advantage freely. Qiong Fang had worked hard half the night, had a headache from her cold, plus was in a bad mood. Seeing a vicious dog blocking the road, she immediately angrily said: “Move aside!”

Qiong Fang had quite a temper. Speaking with such fierce appearance, she naturally was quite aggressive, waiting for the other to make way. Who knew this person was truly bold—he actually pressed his hands tightly against his trouser seams, standing at attention in proper form, acting as if he hadn’t heard, seemingly unwilling to give up without taking advantage.

Qiong Fang sighed in her heart, thinking: “This person is probably another one with a dead wife. Might as well let him reunite with his spouse sooner.” Just as she was about to kick the man into the water, suddenly his boots came together with a loud snap, then he raised the pipa above his head.

The man untied his pipa as if about to play music. Seeing his strange appearance, Qiong Fang couldn’t help but pause slightly: “What do you want to do?”

Suddenly the pipa burst out with a harsh, ear-piercing sound, startling Qiong Fang to cover her ears and scream: “Ah ya!”

The pipa’s tinkling should have been pleasant and melodious—who’d have thought it could produce such shrill sounds? Five fingers plucking, the music was like sharp knives grinding together, like iron shovels scraping pots, making teeth ache and hair stand on end—unbearably unpleasant. Qiong Fang couldn’t help but scream loudly: “Stop playing! Stop playing!”

The man paid no attention, just kept playing. The demonic sound pierced brains and excited eardrums. Qiong Fang had already fallen down, and all the boat passengers had also covered their ears and sat on the ground. Seeing wailing everywhere, the man showed no intention of stopping. Qiong Fang’s face was pale as she tremblingly took out something, thinking: “If you want to compete in loudness, can you beat me?”

Speaking of the loudest things in heaven and earth, nothing surpassed the treasure in her hand—this was a protective magical device passed down by the Qiong family. The grip was inlaid with gold characters, “Jiang” above and “Chong” below. Needless to say, these were the Grand Preceptor’s relics and the world’s unique pair of short guns.

Better let others pass early than become nameless corpses. Qiong Fang was furious and was about to draw her gun to fire at the sky when suddenly the music abruptly stopped. The man seemed to understand the power of bullets and no longer plucked the pipa. Qiong Fang’s anger was high—regardless of what mystery this person was playing, she was about to force him to jump into the water when suddenly she heard a cannon sound in the distance, followed by two red lights rising, burning the ferry crossing’s night sky a dark red.

All the boat people saw the strange sight and couldn’t help but discuss among themselves. Qiong Fang was also full of amazement. Before she could ask questions, she heard low, heavy breathing from shore, wave after wave from far to near—in the thick fog, something seemed to want to board the great boat. Qiong Fang’s heart felt hairy and she was about to retreat when suddenly she heard a muffled creak as if some heavy object had walked onto the gangplank, actually pressing the wooden plank to deform under the weight.

The gangplank connected the boat to shore, specially for passengers to walk up and down. Seeing it bearing too much weight with the wooden plank bending, it truly seemed like an elephant was coming. All the boat people were suspicious and uncertain, all standing up to look. Suddenly a thump came from the deck, followed by the great boat rocking continuously, slowly tilting toward the starboard side. The boat owner exclaimed: “The boat’s going to flip! Everyone quickly go to the other side! Quick! Quick! Quick!”

Boatmen and passengers ran without exception, all crowding to the other end of the railing. The sailors had even dropped the great anchor, busying themselves for a long while before finally stopping the tilting and swaying.

Strange events kept occurring, but nothing could be seen in the thick fog. The boat owner was both shocked and angry, cursing loudly: “Damn bastard! Which turtle egg climbed onto my boat? Get the hell off!” He rushed forward to scold, but who knew his steps would halt and he’d actually retreat a step. A crowd of boatmen, fearing their boss would suffer, came forward with sticks and clubs. Qiong Fang feared they’d be beaten and was about to follow, when suddenly she saw everyone turn around together, screaming in unison: “Xiangxi corpse driving! Xiangxi corpse driving!”

Qiong Fang was greatly curious. She had also heard of corpse driving—legends said Xiangxi Taoists practiced magic power and could make corpses of those who died in foreign lands jump and walk, returning home by themselves. She had thought it was nonsense, but didn’t expect it was real. Thinking of the scene of zombies hopping, though her heart felt hairy, she was greatly curious and actually walked forward several steps.

Qiong Fang hid in the crowd and observed carefully. She saw a large black cloth had appeared on deck, gloomily covering the bow—as if a huge coffin lay underneath! No wonder it made people feel afraid. Her gaze swept over and she suddenly saw six men sitting beside the coffin, each with lowered face, stiff as corpses, frightening her into screaming loudly.

Zombies had arrived. Qiong Fang was most afraid of ghosts in her life and was about to quickly flee down from the boat when suddenly a large hand blocked her path, angrily shouting: “Stop!”

The pipa man proudly raised his palm, warning everyone—he looked truly majestic. Qiong Fang was startled and had to retreat.

The boat owner’s face was pale. Seeing he’d encountered corpse drivers tonight and inevitably carried a boat full of ghosts and monsters home, he hurriedly called: “Brother, my boat goes to Shandong, not Hunan! You’ve taken the wrong route!”

“By imperial decree!” The man brought his knees together with a sharp snap. Before he could speak, the boatmen were already screaming loudly: “Zombies jumping! Zombies jumping!” Seeing the man’s strange appearance with knees together, body stiff and straight, he indeed resembled zombies somewhat. Seeing everyone shout in fear, he hurriedly took out an official tablet from his chest and loudly said: “By imperial decree! This official surnamed Commander named Jinteng, appointed as Jinyiwei Deputy Commander! Absolutely not a zombie!”

In the deep night, a corpse driver appeared claiming to be “Jinyiwei Deputy Commander.” The boat passengers naturally didn’t believe. The boat owner glanced at his tablet but couldn’t tell if it was real or fake, only managing a dry laugh: “Aiya! So it’s a Jinyiwei zom… Commander Deputy Commander, what business do you have?”

“By imperial decree!” The Deputy Commander began to speak. This person’s behavior was truly strange—no matter what he said, he’d first click his heels together for a sharp sound. He raised his tablet high and shouted: “Jinyiwei requisitioning transport northward, hereby commandeering this boat. Unrelated people must immediately leave the boat and go ashore—no mistakes allowed!”

So it wasn’t a zombie but a court official. That wasn’t frightening at all. Everyone relaxed, and amid the Deputy Commander’s shouting, all boat passengers smiled and chatted while the boat owner led everyone to raise anchors and remove planks, waiting to sail—not one person paid attention to him.

The Deputy Commander was greatly surprised, never expecting he couldn’t command the people. He made a sound of surprise, picked up his tablet, and shouted again: “By imperial decree! Jinyiwei hereby commandeers this boat—unrelated citizens must leave within one incense stick’s time, no mistakes allowed!” Yawns arose, still no one paid attention. A boatman walked over and smiled: “Official sir, please rest in the cabin—there’s a furnace there, nice and warm.” Commander Jinteng was at a loss, muttering: “By imperial decree… Jinyiwei transport northward, you all must disembark, no mistakes allowed…”

“By imperial command.” Qiong Fang sneezed and wiped her nose with her handkerchief.

Someone on deck had spoken provocatively—he naturally couldn’t tolerate it. Commander Jinteng held his tablet and immediately turned toward Qiong Fang, shouting: “By imperial decree, ordering you to immediately disembark.” Qiong Fang glanced at him sideways, lightly covered her fragrant lips, then closed her eyes again. Commander Jinteng angrily said: “By imperial decree! If you dare disobey, you’ll suffer…” Before the word “suffer” came out, Qiong Fang had already taken out a silver tablet from her waist, waved it before his face, and said lazily: “Country bumpkin, can you read?”

The silver tablet came from Beijing’s Imperial Clan Court, its surface carved with phoenix patterns and gold-inlaid with the four characters “Meritorious Official Iron Certificate.” Commander Jinteng rubbed his eyes, stared for a long while, then hurriedly opened his carried booklet—it was a “Zhengtong Seal and Tablet Illustrated Guide.” It contained various treasure seals, iron certificates, official seals and tablets, specifically for identifying officials of all ranks in the Zhengtong court. It seemed Deputy Commander, being newly appointed, hadn’t fully grasped the rules and carried this booklet with him. He peeked at Qiong Fang’s tablet while frantically flipping through the book for comparison, somewhat flustered. Qiong Fang sighed: “Stupid! Don’t search from the back—flip from the first three pages.”

Commander Jinteng made an “oh” sound and hurriedly opened the first page. He saw twenty-four gray squares drawn inside, each containing a jade seal that looked noble and inviolable. Turning to the second page, he saw countless Shangfang treasure swords of all types, full of murderous aura.

Flipping to the third page, he immediately saw Qiong Fang’s “First-Class Meritorious Official Purple Phoenix Vermillion Certificate.” Small characters filled the square beside it—things like “accumulated heavenly grace, detailed record of achievements” and “exempt from punishment and crimes, granted seat in government offices”… Commander Jinteng’s face turned ashen as he hurriedly searched for his own tablet, this time flipping from the last page. Soon he found it—his tablet crouched in the sixth square of the second-to-last page like a little squirrel looking at him.

The little squirrel looked frightened while the great miss stretched lazily and said lightly: “If you want me to disembark, you’ll need to ask the South Zhili Imperial Clan Court to come speak, okay?” Saying this, she yawned and closed her eyes again.

The Wuying dynasty emphasized eunuchs, the Jingtai dynasty valued powerful ministers, but in the Zhengtong dynasty, external relatives held the highest status. Since the other party wasn’t a zombie, they fell under the emperor’s jurisdiction. Anyone under the emperor’s jurisdiction had to yield three points to Miss Qiong. With such backing, she naturally took over the scene. Commander Jinteng had no choice but to bring his knees together and take a detour. Seeing a large magnificent sedan stopped on deck looking quite obstructive, he raised his tablet and loudly said: “By imperial decree! Order this sedan to immediately disembark!”

The sedan didn’t move, and the Xinjiang sedan bearers just sat quietly on the ground as if they couldn’t understand Chinese. Commander Jinteng was about to shout loudly when he heard passengers on both sides laugh and say: “Deputy Commander, look clearly at how many people carry this sedan—don’t cause trouble.” Commander Jinteng swallowed nervously like a country bumpkin entering the capital, first counting heads. Seeing it was an eight-man sedan that had arrived, he hurriedly lowered his head to check his booklet and was shocked to see clearly written in the appendix: “The emperor’s ceremonial guard, dragon carriage, twelve armored soldiers; various princes and kings’ traveling carriages, jade carriages, eight armored soldiers.” An eight-man sedan belonged to princes and nobles—seeing he’d encountered another great personage, Commander Jinteng’s gaze was blank and he could only turn to the boat passengers and say in a low voice: “By imperial decree, you immediately…”

Before the words “disembark” came out, a white-clothed warrior walked over, stuffed something into his hand, then turned and walked away. The Deputy Commander was completely puzzled and looked down—his palm glittered with gold light as he’d somehow gained a gold bar!

Commander Jinteng made a sound of surprise and said puzzledly: “What is this?” All the boat passengers laughed: “Still pretending? It’s your drinking money!” Commander Jinteng suddenly understood the principle. Though this Commander Jinteng had the character “gold” in his name, his pockets had always lacked gold. Seeing this gold bar weighing twenty taels, equivalent to several months’ salary, in his panic he just shook his hands repeatedly and said: “By imperial decree… by imperial decree…”

Suddenly a sigh rang out. The boat owner squinted his eyes and said ethereally: “Deputy Commander…” pointing at his nose and gently shaking: “Com—splash!” Finally raising both hands high and bowing forward, he shouted: “Clumsy rice bucket!”

Deputy Commander, clumsy rice bucket—the boat owner’s thick accent naturally made his speech extremely unpleasant. He roared: “Big shots want, small pawns want, all three festivals of the year they want, for country and people they want every day, loyal service to the country they also want—after wanting everything they still say there’s nothing, forcing this old man to not even want his life!” Saying this, he patted Commander Jinteng’s shoulder and said lightly: “Want it or not, take it and scram quickly—people won’t give more.”

Commander Jinteng opened his mouth wide, staring blankly at the gold bar in his hand, saying tearfully: “I can’t take it because I’m from the National… National…” Just as he was about to reveal his identity, all the boat passengers spoke it for him: “Genuine fool!” Everyone laughed heartily: “Not taking it is wasting it!”

Under the golden gleam, the zombie on deck was very weak. He looked at the gold bar in his hand as tears actually fell pitter-patter.

Everyone has something to rely on in their heart. That Commander Jinteng could endure ten years of hardship, tolerating the suffering of being far from home, naturally had something he firmly believed in. Once he lost it, he would become sorrowful, helpless, and confused about where to go.

Amid the hearty laughter, Commander Jinteng wiped his tears with one hand while bending down to gently place the gold bar on the ground. His steps soft, he returned to the familiar large black cloth. In an instant, seeing ten years of dedication, he forcefully brought his boots together and sternly said: “By imperial decree!”

Everyone watched with smiles, not knowing who else this little squirrel could command. Just then, six figures slowly emerged from beside the black cloth—six zombies turned toward all the boat passengers, their faces full of anger. Commander Jinteng raised his finger and sternly said: “Beat them all!”

Whoosh—a boat passenger was thrown into the water. Slap—a sailor flew into the sky. Commander Jinteng was angry, saying “by imperial decree” here and “you get down” there. Indeed, one after another, boat passengers were thrown into the water, looking quite majestic. Everyone was both shocked and angry, all shouting loudly: “Good boy! The zombies are causing trouble!” Several boatmen called: “Someone come! Quick, go get a black dog!”

Where there are government orders above, there are responses below. If the court raised zombies, the people would keep black dogs—in any case, there were ways to deal with them. Indeed, among the boatmen, a clever one had already rushed below deck, apparently to get chamber pots to splash filth. The deck was in chaos. Qiong Fang couldn’t help but laugh heartily. Seeing the six zombies fighting with no one watching that large black cloth, curiosity arose and she slipped to the front of the black cloth, wanting to see what was underneath.

“Young Master…” Her finger had just touched the black cloth when a sigh came to her ear: “Don’t bully us…”

Her body suddenly grew cold. Qiong Fang froze. She looked at her throat, and unconsciously even her teeth began to chatter.

Cold light gleamed at her neck—a sword had appeared on her snow-white neck. The sighing in her ear continued to speak: “Don’t laugh at us honest people…” The aged voice carried a touch of sadness. Qiong Fang’s whole body was cold, and she could only tremblingly glance sideways. Suddenly her eyes saw…

A black-clothed person! The person before her had no facial features except for those ice-cold eyes staring at her—nothing else could be seen. Qiong Fang screamed loudly. She summoned all her strength to desperately flee backward, but suddenly her body was bumped by someone and she fell to the ground. She looked up in astonishment, and instantly screams poured from her throat, no longer controllable.

Black-clothed people… before her were all black-clothed people, countless black-clothed people with mixed footsteps, one after another rushing onto the deck. Those pairs of vicious eyes, those sets of night clothes—all looked exactly like the strange guests who had broken into the Imperial Medical Academy.

Qiong Fang was like a little girl who had mistakenly entered hell, finally screaming miserably.

Just one black-clothed person had made Zhe’er Dan fall and Su Ying bedridden, even destroying the entire Imperial Medical Academy. What more now that their nest was emptied and their elite were all out—who could save her now?

The black-clothed ghost crowd was silent, having completely surrounded the deck. Hearing Qiong Fang’s screams, the black-clothed old man sighed and walked directly to her side, saying ethereally: “Have you found Ning Bufan?” Qiong Fang collapsed to the ground and said tremblingly: “No… no…”

“Very good…” The golden ring slowly extended, pinching her powder-white cheek and saying gently: “Since you haven’t found him yet, then obediently ‘scram’ to one side… what do you say?”

Qiong Fang was after all a tiger daughter of a military family. Hearing the other party speak insultingly, anger suddenly arose in her heart. Without thinking, she immediately reached for her fire gun, screaming: “Audacious! Who exactly are you!” Before she could take out the fire gun, her wrist was grasped.

Something extra appeared in her palm. Qiong Fang looked down—before her eyes, a great bird with wings fully spread looked down with piercing gaze. It was exactly the pattern she had seen in the Imperial Medical Academy last time, but different from what Song Gongmai had drawn on paper—this time there were four additional characters beside the great bird…

“National Iron Guard?”

The highest tablet in the world wouldn’t be listed in the seal and tablet illustrated guide because its authority didn’t come from the court but from the Asura King of Mabasa Palace—only his emissaries were qualified to wear it. For the first time in her life witnessing the black-clothed ghost name, Qiong Fang’s whole body shook violently, speechless. Just as she was shocked, her ear suddenly felt ice-cold as the black-clothed elder leaned close and whispered: “Young Master, my name is Jin Lingshuang, Fourth Boss of the National Iron Guard. I’m now asking you to hold your head with both hands and kneel on the ground, or I’ll kill you. Hmm?”

Qiong Fang’s status was noble—in the world, except for the emperor, who could receive her kowtow? Hearing this, she was naturally furious and was about to open her mouth to scold, but Jin Lingshuang didn’t persuade much, only slowly stood up and began counting on his fingers.

One. The index finger raised, the golden ring gleaming bright. Two. A companion came beside the index finger—a fierce tall fellow.

Three! The ring finger wasn’t seen—the ring finger was on the sword hilt! Swish—wind roared as the cold sword like lightning struck directly at Qiong Fang’s head and neck. Young Master screamed loudly, held her head with both hands, and hurriedly threw herself to the ground.

A cluster of beautiful hair danced in the wind, falling to the ground with the snowflakes. The other party was serious.

In Beijing’s official circles, little girls could play coquettish. On Jingzhou’s battlefield, Young Master could have her temper. But now, coming to this dark night black boat, facing the nation’s most stern power, Qiong Fang didn’t even dare move once. She lay beside Jin Lingshuang’s feet, pitifully like a helpless lamb awaiting slaughter, unable even to cry…

Having dealt with Purple Cloud Pavilion’s imperial relatives, only a magnificent sedan remained on deck. Jin Lingshuang slowly came before the sedan. He stared at the gold bar on the ground and shook his head: “Whoever offered the bribe, step forward.” The white-clothed warriors seemed unable to understand Chinese, and no one responded for a moment.

“Someone…” The golden ring stood up. Jin Lingshuang sighed and ordered: “Beat them.”

As soon as the word “beat” came out, a white-clothed warrior proudly stood up, his right fist angrily hooked, striking directly at Jin Lingshuang’s cheek. But this Fourth Boss actually didn’t dodge or avoid, only turning his cold eyes sideways as if his gaze contained invisible energy that could catch this punch at any time.

Bang—an angry hand came horizontally through the air, blocking the white-clothed warrior’s fist. Looking at that person with angry eyes and protruding belly—it was Seventh Boss of the National Iron Guard who had arrived. He grasped the opponent’s fist and sneered coldly. With fierce force applied, he gripped until the white-clothed warrior foamed at the mouth and his bones made a series of crisp sounds. The other warriors were greatly alarmed and rushed forward to rescue him.

“Seventh Boss…” Jin Lingshuang sighed ethereally and shook his head: “Too slow.”

“Brahma Light Gathering at the Crown!”

Under the mighty震 响, the boat cabin’s white snow collapsed and rolled down. Looking at Seventh Boss’s muscles bulging, his hands pressed together in meditation—the ring and little fingers of both hands drawn into the palms, while the index fingers arched and attached to the backs of the middle fingers—he had clearly performed the “Brahma Light Gathering Crown Mudra.” Pitifully, a large group of white-clothed warriors were shaken by the great force and all flew out of the boat railings. The sound of splashing continued endlessly as the entire group fell into the water, floating up and down.

This was the “National Iron Guard”—no matter which martial arts sect, none could single-handedly resist them. The deck was silent, filled with black-clothed evil spirits. With Fourth Accountant in front and Commander Jinteng behind, the black-clothed evil spirits’ grand arrival had already intimidated the entire scene.

“All officers…” Jin Lingshuang’s low command, the golden ring raised and swept forward: “Clear the area.”

“Oh my! Ghosts are coming!” The boat owner laughed dryly twice. Without needing the black-clothed ghosts to catch him, he grabbed the gold bar from the ground and hurried toward the boat railing. Splash—he was the first to jump into the ice water. A large group of sailors saw the boss go into the water—who still wanted to fight desperately? Everyone shouted and donglong donglong, fleeing like tigers, hualala hua, leaping and swimming like carps.

In the blink of an eye, the deck was empty, all people big and small had slipped away cleanly. Qiong Fang tiptoed, wanting to jump into the water, but was held back by Commander Jinteng, who asked: “Fourth Boss, how should we deal with her?” Jin Lingshuang pondered: “This little girl always causes trouble. She has several formidable companions—don’t let them be attracted here. Arrest her first.”

With the order given, the beautiful Young Master was imprisoned. There were no people they dared not kill, no things they dared not do. Before this group of black-clothed evil spirits, Master Fu was powerless, her lover was useless—what Zhe’er Dan, Song Tongming, what “Kuixing Fighting Five Passes”—all became child’s play. Qiong Fang hung her head dejectedly, and in her dizziness and fever, she was dragged away by the black-clothed evil spirits. But in her despair, her heart still held a final glimmer of light because she believed that late boat passenger would surely catch the boat schedule and bring her a bowl of hot, steaming noodles…

At this moment, the boatmen had fled, the sedan bearers had fallen into water, and even Qiong Fang had been captured. Only a magnificent sedan remained on deck, looking isolated and helpless, already surrounded on all sides. Heavy footsteps shook the deck up and down—Seventh Boss had come. He stared at that sedan and said roughly: “Get out!”

In Yangzhou’s cold water and dark night of ghostly crying, the figure in the sedan curtain still sat calmly as usual—neither screaming nor fleeing, seemingly either a person of extraordinary composure or born mute. Seventh Boss sneered and was about to move forward. Given this person’s crude behavior, whether the sedan contained princes, nobles, or the Three Dukes and Three Guardians, he would drag them all out and throw them into the cold ice water.

Just as he was about to kick and smash the magnificent sedan, suddenly someone slowly walked over. The golden ring blocked the path—Fourth Boss had come. Seventh Boss leaned over and asked: “What’s wrong?” Jin Lingshuang didn’t reply. He came before the magnificent sedan, stopped three chi away, suddenly raised his foot and stamped on the ground, saying: “Commoner Jin Lingshuang kowtows to Your Highness—long live, long long live.”

As soon as the words “Your Highness” came out, everyone in the venue was astonished. Seventh Boss’s eyes showed suspicion, Kumbhira was tongue-tied, and even Qiong Fang, though in distress, was greatly surprised.

The words “Your Highness” were specifically used to address imperial offspring, but Emperor Zhengtong had no children—no crown prince in the Eastern Palace, no princess in the imperial city. No one knew why Fourth Boss had spoken these two words. The creaking sounds continued endlessly as Jin Lingshuang continued stamping the deck, pretending to make kowtowing sounds. He removed his mask and said solemnly: “Your Highness, this commoner’s ceremony is complete. Please come out to meet, how about it?”

In complete silence, the person in the sedan showed no movement—not knowing if they were too frightened of the black-clothed evil spirits to come out, or if they were sleeping in the sedan and hadn’t heard the words. Jin Lingshuang repeated his words several times. Seeing the sedan occupant completely ignored him, he gave a short man a look, signaling him to go bring the person out.

This short man’s dharma name was “Zhaoduluo,” ranked first among the Twelve Divine Generals, cautious in speech and reliable in work. Jin Lingshuang intended for this person to act. Zhaoduluo followed orders and was about to move toward the magnificent sedan when Jin Lingshuang looked at the sedan, vaguely seeming to see light inside. He suddenly raised his eyebrows, raised his hand again and shouted: “Wait, don’t go over.” He glanced at Seventh Boss and said solemnly: “Zhaoduluo, step back. Let Seventh Boss go up.”

Jin Lingshuang was steady and experienced in his actions, but now seemed somewhat indecisive. Everyone was puzzled—first not knowing why their superior kept changing his mind, second unable to guess the sedan occupant’s identity. But constrained by hierarchical respect, they dared not speak much.

That “Zhaoduluo” ranked eighth in the tavern, only one rank below Seventh Boss, but in terms of martial arts, he was worlds apart from Seventh Boss. However, Seventh had crude behavior and fierce martial arts—if he went over to grab someone and used too much force, he might accidentally crush the golden branch and jade leaf in the sedan. Jin Lingshuang didn’t explain much, silently directing the entire scene. Heavy footsteps sounded as Eighteen Scholars surrounded the inner circle and Twelve Divine Generals guarded the outer circle, as if facing a great enemy. In the complete silence, even Qiong Fang’s mouth was covered. Jin Lingshuang gave his companions a look, signaling to move forward.

Everything was ready. Under the cold stares of a crowd of black-clothed people, Seventh Boss roared and with a tearing sound, his beast-claw-like large hand tore through the thin gauze. At this moment, a quiet fragrance drifted out. Everyone smelled the refreshing light scent and knew the sedan occupant must be a noble woman. Seventh Boss paused slightly and looked toward Jin Lingshuang. The two men’s eyes met, and seeing him nod, he leaned forward and reached into the magnificent sedan.

A quiet fragrance filled the sedan—there must be a noble beauty inside. In complete silence, Seventh Boss’s upper body went into the sedan, and another tearing sound was heard—not knowing if it was the sedan curtain or clothing that was torn. Qiong Fang saw the beast claw’s large hand about to molest the sedan occupant. Fear arose in her heart, and she screamed: “Stop…” Just as she made a sound, her throat was held by a sharp blade, forcing her to swallow the next word.

The sedan gently swayed with several muffled groans. Seventh Boss originally had only his right hand in the sedan, but now even his left hand had gone in. Everyone couldn’t see and were all guessing the scene inside the sedan. That Kumbhira turned the iron umbrella in his hand and laughed slyly: “Seventh, oh Seventh, how does it feel? Is it comfortable to handle?” Sunny Day Umbrella couldn’t see light and indeed thought of evil things. Beside him, “Zhaoduluo,” being the first of the Twelve Divine Generals, immediately glanced sideways at his companion and said coldly: “Let’s make a riddle—what person holds an umbrella lawlessly?”

Lawlessly? Kumbhira’s heart awakened, finally remembering Seventh Boss’s identity, and couldn’t help but laugh dryly twice and close his mouth. While speaking, Seventh Boss seemed to have grasped someone and finally slowly retreated. The black-clothed ghost crowd, seeing the sedan occupant caught, all showed joy. But Jin Lingshuang shushed once and gave a low order: “Tomb Guardian Beasts retreat to guard the Demon Blade. Eighteen Scholars step forward.”

The outer circle tightened, and the Demon Blade’s protection was also strengthened. Jin Lingshuang took a deep breath, his left thumb lightly pushing the sword hilt, making the blade slightly leave the sheath—his attitude was greatly vigilant.

Under everyone’s gaze, Seventh Boss retreated step by step from the sedan. First his waist emerged, then his chest and armpits, slowly his neck also came out, and finally his entire body emerged from the magnificent sedan. Everyone was startled for nothing and all breathed a sigh of relief. But looking at Seventh Boss’s respectful appearance with both hands raised high at his chest, seemingly afraid of touching the noble body of the sedan occupant, his upper body leaning back extremely hard. That Kumbhira laughed: “What are you doing? Even if the sedan contains Bodhisattva Lady, brother doesn’t need to be so courteous, right?”

Just as he was joking, suddenly the sedan curtain moved slightly, and from inside slowly extended a blade, actually pressing against Seventh Boss’s throat. Everyone was greatly shocked and shouted: “Who is it?”

“Fools…” A low sigh came from the sedan, saying ethereally: “There’s no princess in the sedan, only…” The sedan curtain lit up with radiance. Suddenly a thunderous roar—the entire magnificent sedan shattered, wood chips flying everywhere. A heroic voice laughed: “A prince!”

A heaven-shaking shout came out as suddenly a figure flipped through the air, leaping forward and already pouncing toward the Demon Blade. All the evil spirits shouted in panic. Jin Lingshuang was already prepared and immediately shouted: “Tomb Guardian Beasts form array!” Six black cables flew over, immediately grasping someone and about to tear him in half with force. Suddenly that person roared loudly: “Narakaya!”

The forbidden divine technique activated. The six Tomb Guardian Beasts were also moving their internal power. Two mighty forces deadlocked with several light sounds—the black cables had already snapped. The ghost crowd knew they had caught the wrong person and in great shock turned to search for the sedan’s big man, but saw that shadow had already flown beside the black cloth, ready to seize the blade at any moment. Commander Jinteng was greatly shocked. Seeing only himself left beside the black cloth, he hurriedly raised his hand and angrily shouted: “Stop!”

The person stopped, but the fist didn’t stop. A heavy punch struck out, fiercely smashing into his palm, shaking Commander Jinteng until his qi and blood churned and he actually knelt down. Twenty-three, not forgetting his duty in crisis, hurriedly took out his blood pipa and was about to resist the enemy. Suddenly a loud clang rang out—golden feathers descended in the dark night like a great Peng golden-winged bird spreading its wings in flight, so bright everyone squinted.

The blood pipa flew out, falling over the boat railing and sinking all the way to the Dragon Palace. The black-clothed ghost crowd stared dumbfounded at the wedge-shaped carvings on the scabbard—no one recognized what they were. They only knew it was very effective.

After the newcomer’s deceptive maneuvers, he struck like lightning, actually breaking through multiple barriers. The tall man laughed heartily and was about to lift the black cloth when suddenly a sigh rang out: “Friend, you still have one barrier unbroken.”

A person stood before him—he wore a golden ring on his finger and held a cold gleaming long sword. It was “Sword Cold” Jin Lingshuang who had arrived!

The two heroes faced off. Jin Lingshuang guarded the final barrier, and the scene returned to its original state. Everyone looked up and down at that man suspiciously, seeing his long hair flying in the wind, fierce eyes slanting back, his angry expression very intimidating. Chandira said tremblingly: “You are Qin… Qin…”

His left leg heavily stamped, the deck below cracked and turned up. The tall man swept out with his foot, and that wooden block actually shot out like a long spear. Chandira screamed and hurriedly dodged sideways. Behind him, Kumbhira saw the situation was bad and hurriedly opened his iron umbrella to catch it. Clang—the entire umbrella bent and broke, his tiger’s mouth cracked and bled, and his body flew backward, actually knocking down three to five people.

Like thunder, the left foot lifted and stamped hard on the ground. The tall man straddled the boat railing and angrily said: “Look clearly! Is this the ‘cripple’?”

The big man’s expression was crude, his long hair hanging loose without a topknot or crown. Looking at that left leg’s muscles, robust and powerful, ready to kick over at any time. Everyone was speechless with fear—whether he was a lame cripple or a three-legged old cat, all retreated urgently. They shouted in panic: “The Demon King has come! Everyone run quickly!”

When contemporary heroes arrived, that was no small matter. Though Qiong Fang was in danger, her heart still felt stirred, and she hurriedly examined that person’s appearance. In her childhood, she had once seen Qin Zhonghai in the capital, but ten years had passed. Meeting suddenly, after looking several times, she only felt this person before her was fierce-looking and tall, somewhat similar to the legendary Demon King. In her heart full of suspicion, she couldn’t be certain.

Just as he was roaring angrily, Jin Lingshuang sighed and said: “General Shajin, please don’t bully my subordinates. This isn’t the Western Regions—no one should recognize you.” Seventh Generation Shajin guarded the main stronghold, second of the Five Tiger Generals, called “Qi Chong Saibei” (Qi Rushing North of the Passes). The black-clothed ghost crowd, hearing the name “Shajin,” became even more panicked and suspicious. The tall man smiled and said: “Brother, that statement has a logical flaw. This isn’t the Western Regions, but don’t people recognize you too?” Saying this, he crossed his arms and smiled as he revealed Fourth Boss’s background: “Isn’t that right? Hero of Western Regions Kunlun, ‘Sword Cold’ Jin Lingshuang.”

The entire Kunlun sect had been destroyed long ago and no longer had its former dominating presence. Jin Lingshuang, hearing him use his old title to greet him, couldn’t help but smile bitterly. That Chandira shrilly said: “Fourth Boss, who… who exactly is he!” Jin Lingshuang sighed and glanced toward the opponent’s waist.

The golden precious blade had an ancient form, not knowing how many hundreds of years old. The blade body was slightly curved, the scabbard’s patterns complex, with twelve red gems arranged in a ring around the yellow jade in the sheath. Everyone looked closely and saw there were actually two characters on the scabbard, inlaid with gold thread—like Chinese characters but not Chinese characters, wanting to read but unable to pronounce, yet not like Arabic script written horizontally. Everyone stared at those two strange characters and said miserably: “Qin… Qin Zhong…”

Two characters read as three characters immediately drew fierce gazes, but hearing an angry roar, the sturdy left leg came kicking like thunder, kicking Chandira rolling backward. Commander Jinteng wanted to block him but the fierce force came and knocked him down too. Jin Lingshuang smiled slightly mockingly. He stepped forward and also read out the true meaning of the strange wedge characters for everyone.

“Unexpected Guest” Timur Mieli—he was the first strong enemy encountered tonight. And the blade at his waist was the Black Khitan’s imperial ceremonial blade, known as “Emperor of Blades, Topaz Jade”—before the Demon Blade’s emergence, it was called “The World’s Number One Blade.”

The Jurchen were gold, the Mongols were silver. Just like King Wen of Chu’s He Shi Bi, the Khitan people also had a piece of topaz stone. Both were imperial treasures, but the former was carved into a square imperial seal while the topaz stone became a fierce weapon.

Though the two treasures had different shapes, both had legendary stories. The He Shi Bi caused Bian He to lose both legs, and the topaz stone had also brought prison disasters. Though this great stone contained yellow jade inside, it was wrapped in a layer of gray, dull mud shell, harder than usual, unafraid of strong acid, unfearing axes—when struck with hammer force, it would only slightly dent and later resume its form. The Liao Dynasty’s monarchs imprisoned countless jade craftsmen but none could extract the precious jade from the stone. With no other choice, they punished it to become a footstool, specifically for drinking tea and propping up feet.

Without encountering an enlightened ruler, the Topaz Boulder wished never to emerge into the world. It wept silently in silence, sleeping daily in the imperial harem, watching the Liao court officials indulge in endless revelry and pleasure. Day after day, it would either have a consort’s plump buttocks sit upon it, or endure the emperor’s stinking feet being placed over it. In the most unbearable moments, it would even serve as a bed for imperial favors and intimate encounters. For decades, it remained in this irredeemable state, until the rise of the Great Jin and the Jurchen’s southern advance brought it an encounter with one person. This person was fated to meet the Topaz Stone because he too was called “Great Stone” – none other than Yelu Dashi, who would later establish the Western Liao court as its first illustrious ruler.

In those days, when Yelu Dashi had achieved great merit, the emperor summoned him to the palace and asked what reward he desired. Yelu Dashi looked left and right, seeing that the emperor’s gifts were all gold, silver, and precious jewels. Remembering that their great enemy was the Jin state, he found himself worshipping gold somewhat dispiriting. While feeling downcast, he suddenly noticed light emanating from beneath a teacup – a large stone that caught his eye with wonder, so he requested it from the emperor. The emperor laughed and said, “My beloved minister’s vision may be lofty, yet it can also be quite lowly. This great stone contains topaz yellow gems worth more than gold, but because of its stubborn hard shell, the jade within the stone is difficult to extract – one could say it’s not worth an inch of gold.”

Yelu Dashi remained silent, abandoning all other rewards and returning home with the stone. When his retainers asked about the stone’s origin, he replied, “All people are vulgar, knowing only gold’s beauty. This object is worth more than gold yet also worthless – it is heaven and earth’s unique anti-gold sacred object.” He then threw it into a furnace. After seven days, when the furnace was opened, he indeed obtained the anti-gold sacred object and solved the mystery of jade and iron’s symbiotic existence.

The grayish-black hard shell was not merely a shell, but the world’s divine substance – iron essence. The yellow gem within, refined by fire, merged with the iron essence to finally produce an unprecedented and incomparable miraculous iron material known as “Topaz Gold-Jade.” The blade’s gold and jade fused together, combining the hardness of topaz stone with the toughness of iron essence. Rigid and flexible complementing each other, it could cleave iron and split steel without the blade’s edge dulling. From then on, this precious blade became the Western Liao King’s protective weapon, launching the anti-Jin great enterprise that would shake the Tianshan mountains.

“Receiving the Mandate of Heaven, Long Life and Eternal Prosperity” – this was the origin of the blade worn at the waist of Temur Mieli, the foremost warrior under the Great Khan’s command.

Jin Lingshuang sighed softly, turning his gaze toward Mieli’s waist, observing the scabbard inlaid with twelve red gems arranged in a circle, and those two characters – similar yet not quite – that revealed the visitor’s identity. This was none other than the Western Liao’s last ruler, the Black Khitan, the current “Eighth Generation Gold-Slayer” – Temur Mieli himself.

There was no weak, bullying beautiful princess in the sedan chair – only a fierce and crude black prince. Looking at the world’s situation, it had become increasingly unpredictable. A demonic blade stirred the entire game, yet who knew why this person had come to disrupt the situation? Jin Lingshuang sighed softly and asked, “Lord Mieli, your sudden nighttime arrival – could it be that you also wish to seize the blade?”

Temur Mieli raised his precious blade proudly and said, “Who says I covet the demonic blade?”

Jin Lingshuang had long been in the Western Regions and had naturally heard the legends of “Topaz Gold-Jade” and the Black Khitan. This blade was known as the “Emperor of Blades” – not only was it a world-shocking precious sword, but it was also a treasured heirloom of the Khitan clan. No matter how great the demonic blade’s reputation, it could not have drawn him to travel thousands of miles. Moreover, if this person aimed to seize the blade, his subordinates’ martial arts were too mediocre to contend with the elite “Nation-Defending Iron Guards.”

Jin Lingshuang pondered repeatedly, then suddenly said, “Lord Mieli, Her Highness’s jade carriage has entered the capital, hasn’t it?” At these words, Mieli’s shoulders moved slightly, and his hair immediately drooped as he heard Jin Lingshuang laugh lightly, “What jade carriage? She rode a camel back, and even the camels secretly fancy her.” With that, he threw back his head in wild laughter, his voice tremendously imposing. Seeing this display, the black-clothed ghost crowd felt sudden alarm and all quickly retreated backward. Jin Lingshuang, standing to the side, discerned some of the truth. He glanced toward “Zhaodu Luo,” and the two nodded at each other in unspoken understanding.

No wonder they couldn’t find that “important person,” and no wonder military reports from various regions kept saying “she” appeared to be ahead, then suddenly behind, with traces throughout the entire country. Naturally, it was Temur Mieli and his band of ministers causing havoc everywhere. Had the Western Region forces not split into multiple routes when entering the pass, where would all these numerous phantom sedan chairs come from, appearing and disappearing like ghosts? And how else would the inn’s staff have lost track of the person? Needless to say, Mieli had gone to great lengths to deceive others, and now his master must have already crossed undetected and successfully entered the capital.

Understanding this point, Jin Lingshuang said no more, only stating lightly, “Very well, I don’t concern myself with Her Highness’s whereabouts. Since you haven’t come to seize the blade, our two sides need not interfere with each other – please leave the ship immediately.”

Mieli crossed his arms and leaned casually against the bow, saying indifferently, “That won’t do – I still need to wait for someone.”

Though Qiong Fang was captured at this moment, her ears could still hear. Hearing that Mieli was still waiting for someone, her heart couldn’t help but jump, wondering if he too was waiting for that bowl of noodles. Just as she was thinking, Jin Lingshuang had already asked for her, “What person is Your Lordship waiting for? Might you tell us?”

Mieli smiled slightly, extending his hand directly to point at that large black cloth. “The inn’s lost horse may prove a blessing in disguise” – Shan Di Luo immediately became frightened and screamed, “Heavens! Is there someone under the black cloth?”

“A bunch of pigs…” Mieli sneered and shook his head, “I’m waiting for this blade’s true master. Understand?”

The opponent intended to await the demonic blade’s true master. At these words, everyone was in uproar. Jin Lingshuang said coldly, “Your Lordship, he is the Cripple – aren’t you afraid of him?” The blood-soaked Cripple held the same title as Emperor Temur, and even the “Seventh Generation Gold-Slayer” was merely his subordinate. For Mieli to want to challenge him seemed rather overconfident.

Hearing these words, Mieli couldn’t help laughing, “Brother Jin, that’s a strange thing to say. I’m not here for martial combat – why should I fear him?” Jin Lingshuang’s long eyebrows rose slightly as he made an “oh” sound and asked in return, “Then why do you wish to see him?” Mieli laughed heartily, extending his hand to point upward and shrugging his shoulders.

The crowd couldn’t understand his gesture, but Jin Lingshuang’s heart grew cold, realizing it was Princess Yinchuan who wanted to meet the Wrathful King.

The previous dynasty’s emperor’s eldest daughter was none other than Princess Yinchuan. If not for the great manager’s repeated instructions not to harm this woman, Jin Lingshuang wouldn’t have had to guess twice when the ornate sedan first boarded the ship, nearly causing a disastrous upset. He just didn’t know what schemes this beautiful woman harbored, and why she wanted to meet the blood-soaked Wrathful King? Wasn’t she afraid of being crushed to death? Jin Lingshuang sighed, thinking of his heavy responsibilities – he really couldn’t manage so much. He immediately said, “Someone come escort this Lord Mieli to the guest cabin, let him admire the snow together with Master Qiong.”

Finally, the fighting was about to begin. Admiring snow was false; capturing people was true. Mieli glanced at Qiong Fang, seeing this young lady’s elegant appearance. Although she had caught a severe cold, it still couldn’t hide her exceptional beauty. He couldn’t help but smile, “Brother Jin truly deserves his reputation as one from the Western Regions – you treat this foreigner quite well.”

Hearing his casual words, Jin Lingshuang also smiled and began issuing orders one by one: “Seventh, step forward to attend to the guest. Tomb-Guardian Beast and Marshal Jin Teng, guard the East and West Palaces. Pishuo Luo and Shan Di Luo, sweep the deck. Close shop in a quarter-hour.”

When the inn closed for the night, overnight guests would naturally return to their rooms to rest. With a “ha” sound, that Seventh Treasurer stuck out his big belly and leaped forward again, apparently to collect room fees. Seeing this man covered in fat yet still gesticulating wildly, Mieli said strangely, “The innkeeper sends just this fat fellow to attend to me? Isn’t your inn rather shabby?”

Mieli’s words were arrogant, but Jin Lingshuang was ten times more arrogant. Without turning his head, he raised his golden finger ring and made a hand signal to the Seventh Boss. Jin Lingshuang’s three-finger gesture wasn’t hard to understand – he wanted the Seventh Boss to finish off the enemy within three punches.

“Wu wa hou!” The Seventh Boss’s eyes bulged as he took a horse stance and threw a straight punch, his fist power thundering out as if to pulverize the enemy with one blow.

Mieli exclaimed, “Hey, you’re supposed to take me to a guest room, not send me to a graveyard!” Though he spoke jokingly, his fists also began swinging. With whooshing wind sounds, one took a horse stance with a straight punch, the other bent his waist throwing a hook punch. Both men struck with one fist each, aiming for each other’s bodies, neither avoiding nor yielding to the punch coming toward them.

When martial arts masters dueled, there was the so-called “literary comparison and martial contest,” focused on determining victory with restraint once the outcome was clear. Country bumpkins had no such refinements – you throw one punch, I kick once, seeing who could beat the other to death first. The onlookers saw these two brutes attacking without defense, already displaying frenzied fighting, and couldn’t help but stare with wide eyes, wondering how it would end.

Two sounds rang out in succession, like beating drums. One took a vicious punch to the left chest, the other received a fierce blow to the right ribs. Both hit vital points and must have felt pain to their very core.

Mieli took the punch to his chest, pain penetrating his heart and lungs. He bent forward, exhaled a long breath, his brow relaxed as he brushed back his long hair. The corner of his mouth actually curved into a smile, as if savoring the sensation. Everyone was dumbfounded. They saw Mieli take out two medicine pills from his bosom – one he put in his mouth, the other he tossed to the Seventh Boss, laughing, “Take it. This is an ancient Loulan formula with miraculous effects for treating internal injuries.”

Mieli’s bearing was extraordinary. Seeing that he wore a precious blade at his waist but his opponent carried no weapons, he also kept his sword sheathed, using only empty hands to respond – a gesture of fairness. This person apparently upheld warrior’s principles, so the medicine he offered now would certainly not be poisoned. Qiong Fang and the others watching from the side naturally developed great admiration for this person’s character.

The Seventh Boss caught the medicine pill but didn’t put it in his mouth. Instead, he threw it to the ground and crushed it underfoot into pulp, shouting, “Treacherous thief! Who wants your flattery? Die!” Just as he was about to attack again, a clear voice rang out with a snort: “How petty, how petty! If you don’t want someone’s goodwill, you could politely return it with both hands – how can you trample and waste it like this? Acting as fussy as a little girl.” The speaker was articulate and sharp-tongued – it was Qiong Fang. Though held by the black-clothed men, she could still speak eloquently and gave the Seventh Boss a thorough scolding. Several black-clothed men, hearing her reasonable words, not only didn’t scold her but actually nodded in agreement.

When pointed at by thousands, one dies without illness. Apparently, the Seventh Boss was extremely unpopular. Both embarrassed and angry, though he wanted to refute Qiong Fang, after thinking for a long time he found his mind blank and couldn’t find words to respond. He could only make a “tsk” sound and angrily shout, “Dog thief spouting nonsense! Die!”

The Seventh Boss was impetuous and crude, poor with words. When he opened his mouth it was either “treacherous thief, die” or “boy, watch this” – completely unoriginal. Though this person lacked wit and eloquence, his martial skills were extremely sharp. After his great shout, his right foot stepped forward one foot, shaking the deck until it cracked and splintered. Then his left hand protected his chest, palm facing outward, while his right palm slowly advanced with the momentum – clearly an ancient palm technique.

His right arm was about to strike but didn’t, his five fingers about to close but didn’t. Looking at the Seventh Boss’s palm, it was filled with protective energy, trembling continuously. Mieli’s heart grew cold as he thought, “The Pacifying Dragon Palm – this man is from Shaolin Temple.”

At this time, Shaolin’s abbot was Ling Ding, with four great divine monks under him – “Zhen, Xuan, Ru, Zhi.” Though the Seventh Boss had hidden his face, he couldn’t conceal his martial skills. With just one palm strike, he had exposed his identity as a Shaolin warrior monk. The only question was whether this person was “Ling Zhen” or “Ling Xuan.” Mieli had no time for deep thought. He immediately took a deep breath, leaned his upper body back, and once again assumed his hook punch stance.

Though Central Plains martial arts had many schools, few employed hook punch techniques. Seeing him change the container but not the contents – old bottle with stale wine – with no offensive or defensive principles, the Seventh Boss couldn’t help but sneer several times, showing his contempt. Just then, Mieli gave a great roar and struck first with his right fist, deliberately aiming for the Seventh Boss’s palm.

One represented Central Plains orthodoxy, the other Western Region ancient traditions. In this Han-barbarian duel, both sides’ second exchange maintained the same terrifyingly large fighting stances. With an explosive crash, palm power thunderous and hook punch fierce, both sides’ fists and palms locked in stalemate, each relying on pure internal strength for total confrontation.

The “Pacifying Dragon Palm” had three levels of force: inch-force to break the body, impact-force for suppression, and long-force to destroy enemies – the most formidable of all. The Seventh Boss breathed slowly and steadily, his inch-force instantly exploding, pressing until Mieli’s upper body swayed slightly. The Seventh Boss roared and followed with the second wave – impact-force like an overwhelming mountain, forcing Mieli to lean back with cold sweat beading on his forehead.

The world’s five great schools all practiced heart, body, and energy techniques, but Shaolin warrior monks practiced everything, especially excelling in meditation. When energy gathered, they became like ancient trees and great stones, impossible to shake. Indeed, within several breaths, the Seventh Boss’s eyes blazed with divine light, his chest rising high. Once the third wave of long-force emerged, it would surely be like Mount Tai pressing down.

Mieli leaned back, seeing defeat was certain. He immediately withdrew his fist to escape. The Seventh Boss naturally pressed his advantage, following with a palm strike. The palm force suddenly attacked, heavily imprinting on his opponent’s shoulder, nearly causing the Black Khitan’s lower stance to collapse. Mieli endured the pain through gritted teeth and countered with a punch. With a light brushing sound, his fist barely grazed the Seventh Boss’s chest before his feet went thump-thump-thump, retreating seven or eight steps, his face already deathly pale.

Comparing the strength of Han and barbarian masters, it was clear who was superior and who inferior. Among Shaolin’s three great palm techniques – first was “Luohan Bronze Gong and Cymbals,” second was “Great Strength Vajra Palm,” and the most miraculous was “Pacifying Dragon Palm.” Its power was indeed extraordinary. Seeing his victory, the Seventh Boss couldn’t help but laugh heartily.

Just as he was laughing comfortably, he suddenly heard continuous crackling sounds. His clothes split open in a large gash running from his chest, as if cut by a sharp blade. In an instant, there was another ripping sound as even his black face mask broke in half, exposing his bald head. Everyone present made sounds of surprise at this sudden change.

Qiong Fang stole a glance and saw this Seventh Boss was about fifty years old, with a face full of brutal flesh and chubby cheeks. Seeing how ugly and unsightly this person was, that black hood hadn’t been worn incorrectly after all.

The Seventh Boss stood bare-chested. Forced to reveal his appearance, he was naturally full of surprise. He touched his cheeks and angrily said, “Boy! We agreed on empty-handed combat – how did you use a hidden blade?” Mieli wore a precious blade at his waist, yet the Seventh Boss’s clothes were cut. Apparently, he had secretly drawn his blade while the other wasn’t paying attention, thus injuring the Seventh Boss. Seeing the black-clothed enemies harboring contempt, Mieli only lowered his head in silence. After all, he had taken a heavy palm strike and his internal breath wasn’t yet regulated – he absolutely couldn’t speak, or the congested blood and internal injuries would make fighting again impossible shortly.

The Seventh Boss continued cursing when Jin Lingshuang walked into the arena and asked, “What technique did you just use? Can you tell us?” The Seventh Boss laughed heartily, “The technique I used was a palm method called…” The golden finger gently waved, turning to point at Mieli, saying softly, “I’m not asking you – I’m asking him.”

Mieli hadn’t defended himself, but Jin Lingshuang had seen the situation clearly. That “Pacifying Dragon Palm” was indeed formidable – comparing strength to strength, naturally the Seventh Boss had the advantage. But Mieli’s hook punch was no ordinary technique either. Though he took a palm strike, he also delivered a fatal punch. The moment his fist touched the body, his wrist retracted, not directly colliding with the enemy’s body but using his fist to scrape past the enemy’s body with a twist and thrust before finally shocking out his energy. Relying on the pulling force, he tore a mark on the Seventh Boss’s body – for external martial arts schools, this was already the pinnacle of empty-hand techniques.

Mieli exhaled stale breath, waved his fists and feet, and answered lightly, “This is Lion’s Fang – I learned it from an ancient Western country. Is it adequate?” Though Jin Lingshuang had long been in the Western Regions around Kunlun, he didn’t know that “Lion’s Fang” originated from the ancient Western country of Assyria. This fighting technique resembled lion claws pouncing on prey and had been passed down for over two thousand years. In terms of ancient heritage, it was no less than Indian martial arts.

Hearing the Fourth Boss conversing with the enemy while treating him as if he didn’t exist, the Seventh Boss was naturally furious: “What pig teeth, dog teeth – just right for picking teeth! Die!” Just as he was about to fight again, Jin Lingshuang shook his head. His golden finger gently rotated as he gripped his sword hilt. The sword blade about to leave its sheath actually faintly emitted blue light as he sighed, “Seventh, you can’t beat him. Stand down.”

Jin Lingshuang had seen clearly just now. Though the Seventh Boss had used palm force to repel his opponent, Mieli’s punch was unusual – if he had used slightly more force when striking, Lion’s Fang could have disemboweled the Seventh Boss. Since the opponent had shown mercy, Jin Lingshuang, as the mission commander, had no choice but to enter the field himself.

Ten years had passed, Zhuo Lingzhao was dead, and Kunlun’s foremost master was now this “Sword Chill.” What level his skills had reached was worth investigating. Jin Lingshuang’s entry to seek instruction was tantamount to slapping the Seventh Boss in the face. Indeed, he was furious beyond measure and brought out his signature skill, roaring with all his might: “Naraka!”

The Seventh Boss clenched both fists and howled madly, his face filled with dark evil demonic energy. Where his power reached, he was like an evil demon descending to earth. All the black-clothed people present, seeing him bring out his ultimate secret technique, cheered loudly, shouting: “Forbidden divine skill!”

Though there were many martial sects in the martial world, only one school listed forbidden martial arts within its gates. And among them, only one person in that school used “Naraka” as a protective divine skill. Needless to say, this person was one of the Four Great Vajras of Mount Song Shaolin – Tiger Claw Ling Zhen.

Naraka’s full name was the Eighteen Hells Sutra, one of the world’s five great evil techniques. Using the protective divine skill revealed the Seventh Boss’s identity. The black-clothed people on both sides were greatly excited, while Jin Lingshuang no longer intervened, merely folding his hands in his sleeves, waiting for both sides to determine victory.

Using the ninth level power of the Eighteen Hells Sutra, he brought his palms together with index and little fingers curved and hidden in his palms – this was one of the Eight Directions Guardian Heavens, the “Yama Heaven Great Dharma Seal.” Seeing his opponent bring out supreme techniques, Mieli showed no surprise or fear, only saying lightly, “Your Lordship possesses secret arts, but the Western Regions also have unique forbidden divine skills. Would you like to see them?”

Western Region masters relied purely on brute force when fighting – they had no restraint or energy cultivation. What forbidden techniques could they have? Seeing everyone’s mocking expressions, Mieli said no more. He pulled up his left sleeve and breathed deeply. That left hand was originally the same thickness as his right arm, but under repeated clenching and exertion, muscles tightened and tendons bulged, blue veins gradually swelling until the left arm was red and hot. Jin Lingshuang’s heart grew cold as he thought to himself: “Left-handed!”

People everywhere consider right as orthodox and left as secondary. Left-handedness wasn’t rare, but once a left-handed person trained their right hand to function like a normal person’s, that was remarkable. Mieli had always fought with his right hand, showing how much severe correction his right hand had undergone to achieve this proud martial skill. But looking at it from another angle, it also showed how sorrowful that abandoned left arm must be.

The forbidden left hand, the forbidden surname, the forbidden appearance – the Mieli before them couldn’t keep not only his natural hand, but also his name and bloodline. From childhood, he was forced to change clans and surnames, change to Muslim dress to please the Uyghurs everywhere… Countless sorrows poured into this left hand. When this forbidden left hand struck with a true punch someday, what kind of momentum would that be? Before this forbidden left hand, what did thousand-year forbidden divine skills amount to? Mieli was naturally forbidden, forbidden throughout his entire being!

Forbidden divine skill against forbidden left arm. The Seventh Boss brought out his ultimate technique, his entire body filled with dark evil energy. Mieli’s face was sorrowful and his gaze stern. One was enveloped in black energy, his face like charcoal-blackened iron pot – ugly and terrifying. The other had his iron arm burning red like a flying dragon coiled around a pillar of fire, his power soaring to the heavens. Blue veins twisted, black energy swelled – both sides assumed shocking stances as they gathered energy. Their final palm exchange would surely be earth-shattering.

Roars shook the heavens as both men exerted their full power, each striking toward the other’s fist and palm. Though their true force hadn’t yet collided, merely the touch of their energy created an upward whirlwind that forced onlookers to hold their breath and retreat. Just as fist and palm were about to meet and victory was about to be decided, there was suddenly a splash from the river surface – someone broke through the water! Coming fast as lightning, he had already leaped onto the deck, directly seizing the demonic blade!

The third force had arrived with unstoppable momentum! Everyone was shocked and turned to look, seeing the unexpected guest wearing a hood and black shirt – clearly another black-clothed person! The difference was his faster movement and more accurate aim. With just one carp-leaping maneuver, half-turning in mid-air with head down and feet up, he had already pounced over ten feet. This person’s ghostly body technique caused the Fourth Boss to exclaim “Ah!” and Qiong Fang to cry out softly: “It’s him!”

It’s him! This person was soaked through, with a thin layer of ice formed on his body. He had clearly been in the water for who knows how long. Now, as the two great masters dueled, he seized the opportunity to break through the water, attempting to snatch the demonic blade while both sides were distracted.

This person was far-sighted and his body technique was exceptionally vigorous – this strike was sure to succeed. As the final unexpected guest arrived, the entire ship’s ghost crowd cried out in alarm: “Qin Zhonghai is here! Qin Zhonghai is here! Everyone be careful!” One monster after another appeared, each possessing supreme skills, as if there were cripples and demon kings everywhere. With demon kings arriving one after another, people couldn’t help but panic.

The black-clothed ghost crowd shouted excitedly, but their feet involuntarily retreated, their eyes all showing fear.

Caught completely off guard, even the Tomb-Guardian Beast was a step too late. Seeing that Mieli couldn’t retract his fist and the Seventh Boss couldn’t withdraw his palm, they could only watch as the strange guest pounced toward the demonic blade. The two great masters looked at each other, their hearts immediately in accord as they roared in unison: “Don’t even think about it!”

Fist and palm simultaneously turned, both striking toward the black-clothed person. That black-clothed person remained completely calm. As he descended to the deck, with front fist and rear palm coming in a pincer attack, the black-clothed strange guest exhaled and raised his voice, lifting both palms to his chest and using his full internal strength to deflect both mighty forces.

“Drink! Ha!” The Eighth Generation Gold-Slayer swung his left fist, the Seventh Boss struck with his right palm. Three great masters brought out their signature skills, each attacking left and right around their bodies. One struck the strange guest with his left and the brute with his right, the other resisted demonic arts to the east and divine fists to the west. For a moment, the red divine arm, gleaming purple light, and forbidden evil energy attacked each other as the three men each used their flesh to bear two fierce forces.

The three great masters’ powers were evenly matched, confronting each other in a circle. Where their internal energy passed, black energy and purple light filled the air, air currents and roars rose together. Wild winds rose at the bow, and the large black cloth actually rose into the night sky without anyone needing to pull it away, swept up by the energy! And the true appearance of the demonic blade beneath the black cover was about to emerge and shock the world!

When demon kings meet the demonic blade, what would the world become? In the midst of universal panic, only the Fourth Boss remained silent and motionless. Watching the large black cloth slowly rising into the sky, he couldn’t help but sigh and mutter to himself: “Great Manager, those who should have come didn’t come, and those who shouldn’t have all arrived… Perhaps this game…”

“We’re about to fall into a trap…”