That same Mid-Autumn night.
In the western part of Jiangning, a hall called the “New Tiger Palace” blazed with light.
Jiangning had originally been the place where Prince Kang, Zhou Yong, had spent most of his life. After he became emperor, though the early years had brought the great catastrophe of the empire-wide manhunt, and the later years had seen him flee to sea in terror, ultimately dying upon the water, the eight or nine years in between during the Jianshuo era had seen Jiangnan absorb much of the population from the Central Plains, and could genuinely be called prosperous and thriving. At the time, many had touted this state of affairs as proof of the “renaissance” brought about by Emperor Jianshuo’s “governance through non-interference,” and so several detached palaces and gardens had been built up around Jiangning, his hometown, claiming land for the purpose.
The “New Tiger Palace” was one of these. Originally named “Changyu Garden,” it had changed hands twice after the Fair Party entered Jiangning, eventually falling into the hands of Xu Zhaonan, who renamed it, turning the place into a stronghold for the “Wheel-Turning King” faction.
At this moment, the main hall of the palace blazed with splendor, filled with an assembly of heroes.
Seated at the very top of the hall, a figure of massive build, shaped like some ancient Buddha, was none other than Lin Zongwu—”the Number One Martial Artist Under Heaven,” leader of the Great Radiance Sect—who had arrived in Jiangning several days earlier.
Seated at Lin Zongwu’s lower left was a burly man in a blue robe. Broad-browed, with eyes like a phoenix’s, carrying a stern bearing that inspired awe without anger—this was none other than Xu Zhaonan, “Wheel-Turning King,” now one of the Fair Party’s five great kings, controlling his own territory and enjoying tremendous renown throughout Jiangnan.
Before rising up, Xu Zhaonan had been a hall leader within the Great Radiance Sect. Building on that foundation, he had raised the banner of rebellion, and once he called out, followers had flocked to him in droves. By now, the “Wheel-Turning King’s” followers numbered well over a million, and even his elite troops numbered in the hundreds of thousands—structurally, his forces had already firmly surpassed the loosely organized Great Radiance Sect itself. But unlike the ruthless and cunning “Descended Mysterious Maiden” over in Jin territory, who had betrayed her own master, one could tell just from the seating arrangement that this now-powerful “Wheel-Turning King” still maintained absolute respect toward his former sect leader.
Mirroring Xu Zhaonan on the left, seated on the right, was still Wang Nantuo, “Mad Tiger,” the Great Radiance Sect’s deputy leader and Lin Zongwu’s junior fellow disciple.
In his younger years, Wang Nantuo had made his name through hand-to-hand combat. After Fang La’s uprising failed, he had returned alongside Lin Zongwu and Sikong Nan to try again; his skills had once been able to hold their own even against Chen Fan, one of the strongest of the younger generation at the time. But a few years back, he had injured his arm in some inexplicable battle in Wozhou, and combined with his advancing age, his actual combat ability was no longer what it once was.
Still, in the martial world, skill alone didn’t always decide everything. Ever since Lin Zongwu had grown disillusioned with worldly affairs, Wang Nantuo had struggled to keep the Great Radiance Sect’s various affairs running throughout the realm. Though he lacked the ability to expand or advance the sect’s fortunes, he had at least held things together until Xu Zhaonan finally succeeded in Jiangnan. His role as the steady hand through that transition had earned him the respect of many, Xu Zhaonan included. And now, wherever Lin Zongwu went, even on the strength of past ties alone, no one dared to slight this aging but still formidable tiger.
Below Wang Nantuo, figures such as “Heaven’s Blade” Tan Zheng, “Cold Crow” Chen Juefang, “Martial Overlord” Gao Huiyun, “Monkey King” Li Yanfeng, “Five Net Slash” Tang Qinghua, “Tuohe Hermit” Xu Longbiao, and many other renowned masters of the martial world, members of the Great Radiance Sect, and members of the “Wheel-Turning King” faction within the Fair Party, were arrayed throughout the hall.
These figures were, some of them, already venerable, widely respected grandmasters in the martial world, others young but already possessing astonishing skill; some commanded impressive territories of their own, others had already proven their worth on the battlefield. In the past, all of them had been fiercely proud, unwilling to bow to anyone. Only a small number among them had ever received guidance from Lin Zongwu, the old sect leader, in the past.
But this was already Lin Zongwu’s fourth day in Jiangning. Over the previous three days, he had personally evaluated everyone’s skills and sparred lightly with them, and this alone—this mere glimpse of the terrifying ability hidden within that massive frame—had thoroughly shocked everyone present. Even Gao Huiyun, the “Wheel-Turning King’s” great general, renowned for mastery of all eighteen weapon types and more devoted to military affairs than most, had come to genuinely understand what it meant to face an enemy of the entire world within arm’s reach.
On this foundation, combined with everyone recounting the Great Radiance Sect’s sacrifices over the years in resisting the Jurchen in Jin territory, and the tragic, unyielding devotion of countless followers who had marched forward under their leader’s guidance, even the most stubbornly proud among them had by now come to acknowledge the legendary nature of this sect leader’s life, offering him their knees and their respect.
In truth, the Fair Party’s territory now spanned a vast area, and Xu Zhaonan, the “Wheel-Turning King,” had originally been handling affairs near Lake Tai. Upon hearing news of Lin Zongwu’s arrival, he had rushed back to Jiangning day and night, finally entering the city just that afternoon.
Upon meeting Lin Zongwu, this leader—now counted among the most formidable powers in the entire realm—had apologized for his negligence and had immediately knelt to beg forgiveness. This display of deference had greatly pleased Lin Zongwu, and after an amicable exchange between the two, Xu Zhaonan had promptly summoned all the important members of the “Wheel-Turning King” faction present in Jiangning. Following this Mid-Autumn audience, Lin Zongwu’s status as something akin to a “Retired Emperor” figure within the “Wheel-Turning King” faction was essentially cemented.
The gathering had begun solemnly, but gradually grew more relaxed and cheerful. Once the audience concluded, Lin Zongwu and Xu Zhaonan withdrew together to a side hall at the back, where they set up a tea table in the courtyard and spoke privately for a long while.
After Xu Zhaonan took his leave, Wang Nantuo made his way into the side hall. The courtyard still held the table, chairs, and tea set from Lin Zongwu and Xu Zhaonan’s earlier conversation, but off to one side stood a raised platform. The palace wall it faced had collapsed, and walking up onto it, through the broken remains of the wall, offered what amounted to a small terrace overlooking half of Jiangning. He saw his massive senior fellow disciple standing there, hands clasped behind his back, gazing silently at the bright moon and the lantern-lit city spreading out before him.
“…Senior brother.”
Wang Nantuo spoke up, standing beside Lin Zongwu, looking out with him at the scattered lights within the city. He knew that Lin Zongwu and Xu Zhaonan must have already had their first real exchange of intentions, but as to how things would develop, or what plans Lin Zongwu had in mind, he didn’t press for details.
“Junior brother.” After a while, Lin Zongwu finally spoke. “…Do you still remember Fang La?”
“…Of course I remember him.” Wang Nantuo nodded.
Lin Zongwu stood there gazing ahead, falling silent again for a while before continuing. “…Thirty years ago, his martial skill was extraordinary, and he unified the Sacred Sect. Afterward, heroes gathered from all directions, dominating the age. Among those figures back then—setting aside that brilliant and extraordinary Overlord Blade Liu Dabiao, and setting aside Fang Baihua, not to mention men like Shi Bao and Li Tianrun—just the two brothers Fang La and Fang Qifo alone carried a bearing of near-invincibility in their era. I once said that one day, I would take his place.”
Lin Zongwu’s words came slow and steady as he recounted these old memories to the last person left in the world he could truly confide in.
“Tell me—if we faced off today, you and I as brothers against Fang La and his brother, who would win?”
Wang Nantuo thought about it. “Senior brother, your skill has advanced immeasurably over the years. Whether it were Fang La or Fang Qifo returned, they would surely fall beneath your palm. But if the two of us brothers faced the two of them together… I’m afraid he’d still win and I’d still lose. It’s me, junior brother, who’d be the one dragging us down.”
Lin Zongwu turned to look at Wang Nantuo, his hair as wild and unruly as a lion’s mane, and shook his head with a smile. “We’ve grown old. Fang La and Fang Qifo both died in the prime of their lives—neither of them lived to see the age we’ve reached. By that measure, you and I have already won.”
Wang Nantuo frowned slightly. “Senior brother… is it about Xu Zhaonan…”
“This has nothing to do with Xu Zhaonan. I was thinking of Zhou Tong.”
Before the small terrace lay the crumbling palace wall, and through the gap in that wall, a bright, clear moon hung down from the vast expanse of sky above. Before that gap, the massive-framed monk stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing up at that bright moon in the sky. He had just spoken of Fang La, yet for some reason, what he now said he was thinking of was Zhou Tong. There was a faint note of desolation in his voice.
Watching this scene, Wang Nantuo felt a complicated wave of emotion rise unbidden within him, and what surfaced in his mind, unexpectedly, was a couplet that had grown quite popular in the martial world over the years:
“Peach and plum, spring wind, a cup of wine; rivers and lakes, night rain, ten years of lamplight.”
More than a decade of scattered lamplight later, what these two sworn brothers now faced was nothing more than this one broken, decaying city before them. However exalted their status might seem, who could truly know the regrets buried in their hearts?
…
“Xu Zhaonan is a fine young talent, I know that too. I also understand, junior brother, why you asked me to come south this time.”
The two of them gazed at the scene before them for a while longer before Lin Zongwu, hands still clasped behind his back, turned and walked away, speaking slowly as he paced. Wang Nantuo frowned. “Senior brother…”
Lin Zongwu raised a hand, cutting off his words.
“These past few days in Jiangning, at first it was Xu Zhaonan’s two sons who received us. Taking their lives would have been effortless for me, but Young Xu’s arrangements showed genuine sincerity. Today, entering the city, he knelt before me without regard for his own status—he’s shown all the proper courtesy. And considering today took place on his own turf, inviting me to the seat of honor carried real risk for him. As a junior, he’s done all he can; we elders ought to recognize that and respond in kind.”
“Senior brother, that was only proper of him to do.”
“In this world, what matters is who holds the power—nothing is ever simply ‘proper’ by fate alone. But you’re right too, junior brother—if he wants to inherit the mantle of our Great Radiance Sect, then yes, this is what’s proper of him to do.”
“Senior brother…”
Lin Zongwu continued walking down, with Wang Nantuo following behind. By now he understood what his senior brother meant, and wanted to object, but the words caught in his throat before he could voice them. In truth, though he hadn’t given it much conscious thought when he’d asked his senior brother to come south this time, whether such intentions had lurked somewhere in the depths of his own heart was genuinely hard to say—but realizing this now, he only felt a pang of discomfort.
Lin Zongwu sat down at the tea table and gestured toward the seat across from him. Wang Nantuo walked over. “Senior brother, I really didn’t…”
“I know. Between us brothers, what need is there to say so much? Honestly, this matter—most of it was my own idea, really.”
He waved his fingers, gesturing for Wang Nantuo to sit across from him, then set about rinsing the teapot and cups, stoking the charcoal fire. Wang Nantuo reached out to help as well, though his movements were clumsy, nowhere near as composed as his senior brother, who sat there with the serene bearing of a Buddha.
“…In the fourteenth year of Jinghan, I heard the court had dealt with the Right Chancellor and abolished the Secret Investigation Bureau. I led a party north, and at Zhuxian Town, I caught up with Qin Siyuan. He and his old wife took poison and killed themselves, showing utter disdain toward me, even though I could have taken his life at any moment.”
“A pedantic scholar like old dog Qin was always arrogant and shortsighted.”
“He spoke of Zhou Tong.” Lin Zongwu let out a faint sigh. “Zhou Tong’s martial skill was renowned as the finest under heaven back when he ran the Imperial Fist Hall. In those years, whenever heroes of the martial world came to challenge him, he received every one of them, and truly never lost. You and I both know that all his life, Zhou Tong longed to serve in the army as a general, leading troops into battle. But in the end, all he managed was to lead a small band of martial-world fighters into Xinzhou city to assassinate Nian Han…”
“He died for it, and that same Qin Siyuan, who had always looked down on martial-world men, came to admire him precisely because of it. That old man… used those words to provoke me. Though his intent was only to wound me, what it revealed about how these people have always thought was made perfectly clear.” Lin Zongwu smiled faintly. “Tonight, sitting in that seat, looking down at all those men below—junior brother, all our lives we dreamed of becoming another Fang La, but in the end, perhaps all we can ever be is another Zhou Tong. A mere martial man, at most spilling blood within ten paces of himself…”
“I’ve only come to see this clearly myself in recent years,” Wang Nantuo said. “Practicing martial arts, and governing men, commanding subordinates—in the end, they’re two entirely different things.”
“Indeed.” Lin Zongwu stirred the teapot on the stove. “Ever since our failure resisting the Jurchen in Jin territory, I’ve been mulling over these matters. Coming south this time, when you spoke to me about Xu Zhaonan, something stirred in me. Heroes of the martial world grow old along with it—you and I will inevitably have our day to step aside. The Great Radiance Sect, in all my years leading it, has accomplished little beyond our efforts resisting the Jurchen… Of course, the specific plan still depends on how Xu Zhaonan performs at this Jiangning gathering. If he can shoulder the burden, then giving it to him would be no great loss.”
Wang Nantuo watched the flames in the stove. “…Has senior brother ever considered Ping’an?”
“Hah… hahahaha.” At the mention of Ping’an, Lin Zongwu began to laugh, his laughter gradually growing louder. “Junior brother, did you think I originally intended to pass the Great Radiance Sect on to him?”
“…He is, after all, senior brother’s final disciple.”
“Ping’an will find his own path. He needs to think it through and search for it himself. What I hope for him goes far beyond this crumbling remnant of the Great Radiance Sect. If he takes an interest in it someday, he’s welcome to seize it and play with it as he likes. If not, then what should lie before him is freedom—he ought to accomplish what our generation never could, whether that means rising to serve as a general or a chancellor…” As Lin Zongwu spoke these words, his tone grew impassioned, before he paused slightly, pouring tea for Wang Nantuo, then for himself. “…Or simply living a life of peace and happiness.”
Once the words faded, both men fell silent for a moment. Then Wang Nantuo picked up his teacup, and Lin Zongwu did the same; they raised their cups and drank.
After a while, Wang Nantuo spoke again. “Has Xu Zhaonan already laid out his true intentions to you, senior brother?”
Lin Zongwu nodded. “What Young Xu had to say… was quite interesting.”
“Is it something I’m allowed to know?”
“Between us brothers, what is there to hide? It’s just that some of the finer points, I’m still turning over myself.” Lin Zongwu smiled. “These past few days in the city, what people talk about most is the gathering of the five factions, or which house might take the lead in striking against Zhou Shang, or against Shi Baofeng. The overall situation is certainly still unsettled, that much is true, but on the whole, it still seems to be an opportunity for the Fair Party to resolve its internal disputes, purge some of the dregs, and then unite as one.”
“That’s how I see it too,” Wang Nantuo nodded, then added with a smile, “Though the hatred between people like ‘Cold Crow’ and Zhou Shang runs deep, with the bigger picture at stake, I suppose these petty grudges will need to be set aside somehow, in the end.”
“However, Young Xu raised a possibility with me. It’s unlikely to happen, but… it’s rather alarming.”
“…” Wang Nantuo frowned, watching him.
“Young Xu said… it’s possible that this time, it could turn into the Fair King He Wen’s faction against the other four, and if that happens, it would truly become… an all-out war.”
Wang Nantuo thought about it, finding it hard to believe. “The other four factions… they’ve discussed purging He Wen? Who actually thinks they could seize power that way?”
“No.”
Lin Zongwu shook his head.
“It’s He Wen’s faction that intends to purge the other four—no negotiation, no room for compromise, an all-out war.”
“How could that possibly be.” Wang Nantuo lowered his voice. “Has He Wen gone mad? Sure, he’s the current Fair King, and the Fair Party’s orthodox line is behind him, but when it comes to territory and troop numbers these days, whether it’s our side here or ‘King of Hell’ Zhou Shang’s, both have already surpassed him. He’d struggle fighting two at once, let alone four—that would be suicide!”
“That’s what I thought too.” Lin Zongwu held his teacup, his gaze inward, doubt stirring beneath the surface. “This trip south of mine, in truth, serves the purpose of a mere strongman. With my reputation, he might rally more followers to his cause; with my martial skill, I can overawe the other arenas within Jiangning city. He’s borrowing my blade specifically to kill someone with it—but there’s a proper way to borrow a blade, and there’s a scheming, self-serving way to borrow one…”
“If he’s being upfront about it—telling me plainly what he wants, and I consider it and agree, then whatever he wants is naturally his to have. But if he’s being duplicitous, harboring greater ambitions while concealing them, unwilling to speak plainly, then this trip to Jiangning… isn’t quite so simple after all.”
Lin Zongwu’s words came calm and unhurried. Having weathered the malice of this world for decades, though he had achieved little in the upper echelons of politics, he wasn’t someone easily deceived either. This gathering in Jiangning had only just begun, with every faction currently courting outside support, forming and breaking alliances in secret—countless variables remained. But even so, there were developments that, even now, seemed patently absurd. And the fact that Xu Zhaonan had voiced such an outlandish theory, even with some groundwork and explanation behind it, left one unable to help but wonder what deeper motive lay beneath it.
Wang Nantuo was thinking along the same lines. He fell silent for a moment, a flash of ferocity crossing his eyes.
“I’ll quietly look into this myself. If it turns out Young Xu’s theory was only meant to trick you and me into striking down He Wen so that he could rise even higher—senior brother, I’ll deal with it myself. I’ll cleanse our own house.”
“There’s still time yet. Let’s wait and see. When the moment truly comes to act, junior brother, it won’t need to be you.”
Lin Zongwu smiled faintly. “Besides, ambition isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We came here precisely because of his ambition in the first place. As long as this Jiangning gathering goes smoothly, the Great Radiance Sect will end up being his in the end regardless.”
At this moment, the moonlight quietly illuminated the land. Throughout the city, the glow of torches and oil lamps spread bit by bit, figures gathering in the dim light or in darkness, each pursuing their own desires, each leaving their own mark—some like a chaotic dance of demons, others shadowy and elusive, worth pondering deeply… Here there was too much desire, and too many mysteries.
Beneath the moonlight of the New Tiger Palace, Lin Zongwu and Wang Nantuo rose from the tea table, exchanging faint smiles.
“In any case, what needs doing still needs to be done. Tomorrow morning, you and I will call on Chen Juefang, and go pay a visit to Zhou Shang’s five arenas, just to see how well the platforms they’ve set up can withstand a few rounds of someone else’s fists.”
“With senior brother’s involvement, their arenas will probably collapse.”
“Heh heh. By the way, what happened to Chen Juefang’s injuries today? His lightness skill is exceptional, but when I saw him today, it looked as though his whole body was covered in blade wounds…”
The two men’s voices faded gradually, mingling with the silver radiance of the moon. At this moment, amid the bustling city of Jiangning, among the Fair Party’s five great kings, only Xu Zhaonan had actually entered the city ahead of time, on account of Lin Zongwu’s arrival.
The “Wheel-Turning King’s” arrival stirred up hidden undercurrents; some of his subordinates, having learned of this development, grew increasingly brazen. Over at the Undying Guard, in order to capture the man and woman who had caused trouble the previous night, and to pressure Zhou Shang’s people into handing over the traitor Miao Zheng, “Cold Crow” Chen Juefang, after the night banquet at New Tiger Palace, had led his men in raids on several of Zhou Shang’s establishments. You Hongzhuo moved through the city’s shadows, watching everything unfold with a mixture of helplessness and dark amusement…
The moon traveled across the heavens. Beyond the bounds of Jiangning city, the lights across the land grew ever sparser. At this moment, several miles from Jiangning, on the northern bank of the Yangtze, a two-story pleasure boat floated on the water, its lamps dim, from which one could faintly make out the cluster of lights gathered in the distance south of the river.
“Fair King” He Wen sat within the cabin reading. By now, someone had already informed him of Xu Zhaonan’s arrival in Jiangning. Late into the night, a small boat drew alongside, and a guard came in to quietly report that someone had come aboard.
A moment later, a figure entered from outside, wrapped in a black cloak. At the doorway, he handed his long saber to the guard. Once inside, facing He Wen, who had risen and clasped his hands in greeting, he too offered a bow.
“Greetings, Fair King.”
“Master Qian, it’s been a while.”
The cloak’s hood came down, revealing none other than Qian Luoning, the “Feather Blade” among the Overlord Blade masters. In fact, the two had crossed paths back during the days of the three counties near Hedeng, so meeting now felt natural enough.
“Thousands of miles from the Southwest, day and night on the road—it wasn’t easy, but I’ve finally made it,” Qian Luoning said, looking out at the great river and the night beyond the pleasure boat, smiling faintly. “The Fair King has quite the mood tonight—admiring the moon and thinking of someone dear, or gazing at Jiangning, plotting great affairs?”
“To be honest, with the Mid-Autumn moon full, I couldn’t help but be moved to thoughts of someone I miss.” He Wen, dressed in a long robe, smiled openly. “Let me tell you plainly, Master Qian—my family’s ancestral home is in Suzhou. I once had a wife, children, and parents there. By the tenth year of Jianshuo, they had all died. I am alone now in this world, and seeing the moon tonight, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow.”
He Wen had once been a famous scholar-knight, handsome in bearing, carrying the refined air of a man of letters. In the past, at Jishan, he had held forth on matters of governance and stirred passions with his words, engaging in numerous debates with a group of young men in the Huaxia Army who had been steeped in new ways of thinking, and had often won these debates outright.
Qian Luoning was the youngest of the Eight Heroes of the Overlord Blade, even younger than Ning Yi and Xigua. Gifted by nature, his talent for swordsmanship went without saying, but his grasp of scholarship and new ideas ran far deeper than some of his elder brothers, which was why he had been among those who once debated He Wen directly.
Back then, whenever the two had met, each holding firmly to his own position, neither willing to yield, Qian Luoning had greeted him with the same mocking question about whether he was plotting great affairs—both an act of familiarity and a bit of easy, casual teasing. But now, standing before him, He Wen’s old air of chivalric spirit seemed to have completely faded, replaced instead by something thinner, more scholarly, tempered by having seen through the ways of the world. His smile carried a calm, candid honesty as he spoke of missing his family, which left Qian Luoning momentarily taken aback.
He looked at He Wen, who gestured for him to sit nearby. After a moment’s hesitation, Qian Luoning sighed. “What’s the point of all this, really…”
“What do you mean, Brother Qian?”
Qian Luoning said nothing at first. He sat down in a nearby chair, watching as He Wen sat down as well and poured him tea. His gaze swept over the moonlit window and the city of Jiangning beyond. “How did it come to this?”
“What do you mean, Brother Qian?” He Wen repeated the same question.
“Your Fair Party.” Qian Luoning said. “And this Jiangning.”
He Wen finished pouring the tea, set the pot aside, and fell silent for a moment before finally looking up.
“Has Mr. Ning said anything about this?”
“He praised you.”
Qian Luoning looked at him.
“Do you believe that?”