The autumn wind rustled.

Noon had not yet passed. In front of the New Tiger Palace — now the base in Jiangning for the “Wheel-Turning King” Xu Zhaonan and the “Great Sacred Teacher” Lin Zongwu — a long line had already formed of people coming to submit visiting cards. As for those coming to pay their respects to the Holy Teacher, the crowd filled nearly the entire length of the street.

Performers dressed as all manner of strange “deities,” dragon and lion dance troupes, people kneeling in worship, and musicians playing and singing filled the scene with tremendous fervor.

This was the grand spectacle following Lin Zongwu’s victory at the Five Factions Arena. Though Zhou Shang’s madmen had already launched a retaliation the day before, it was Xu Zhaonan’s side that had sounded the horn — and after the clash with Zhou Shang, his side was still calmly proceeding with preparations for the “Million Soldiers Arena,” which was proof enough of just how confident the “Wheel-Turning King” faction felt within the city.

The zealous followers, already driven by fervor, were now boiling with excitement; some of the more militant among them, already possessing some martial skill, were practically begging to be sent into battle, eager to follow their invincible Holy Teacher and sweep away every heretical faction in Jiangning, seizing the title of “true orthodox line of the Fairness Party.”

Meanwhile, the various small and mid-sized factions already in the city, so long as they favored Xu Zhaonan, were rushing to submit letters of allegiance. Xu Zhaonan received them one by one, having them line up along the road so as to display his strength to the entire “audience” within the city.

Half a street away from here, some of the residences facing the New Tiger Palace had now been converted into guest quarters for the “Wheel-Turning King.” In one large estate with a training ground, “Heavenly Blade” Tan Zheng sat in a chair beside the grounds, watching a figure not far off weave through a dense array of long and short wooden stakes, arms swinging — punches sometimes nimble, sometimes forceful — sending wood chips flying from the sturdy posts.

The figure weaving through the stakes was bare-chested above the waist; his body, in the prime of his thirties, was corded with muscle without an ounce of excess fat, perfectly combining power and agility. This was the current generation’s “Monkey King,” Li Yanfeng, who had come from Tongshan to Jiangning.

This was the first time Tan Zheng and Li Yanfeng had met in Jiangning, but after fighting side by side that night on the seventeenth, the two had come to admire each other’s skill. Add to that Tan Zheng’s past connection with the previous Monkey King, Li Ruoque, and the two had grown close — Li Yanfeng called Tan Zheng “uncle,” and Tan Zheng, not without pride, had accepted this formidable young nephew.

What Li Yanfeng was practicing now was the essence of the Greater and Lesser Monkey Fists and the White Ape Through-Arm Fist. In the days since arriving in Jiangning, he had sparred with Lin Zongwu twice, and in the second, more instructive bout, had received a great deal of guidance from him on techniques for increasing the destructive power of the White Ape Through-Arm Fist — his understanding of the style had risen to a new level as a result.

Having just finished a round, Tan Zheng couldn’t help but stand and applaud. “Excellent! With these refinements, the White Ape Through-Arm Fist is sure to shine brilliantly in Worthy Nephew’s hands — you may well become a grandmaster of a new generation, bringing glory to those who come after.”

Li Yanfeng wiped a bit of sweat from his brow and, without any trace of pride, cupped his fists in a bow. “Uncle Zheng flatters me too much. Coming to Jiangning this time, I owe much to the Teacher, to Uncle Zheng, and to all the elders here who set aside old rivalries between schools to guide me so carefully. If anything of worth is left behind after me, it will be a record of these elders’ broad-mindedness — that is what has brought the martial world to such flourishing today.”

Before Li Yanfeng’s practice, Tan Zheng had also demonstrated his own understanding of bladework once already. He now smiled and waved his hand.

“Not clinging to a single school or lineage, breaking down the barriers between schools — this is simply the trend of the times. Over a decade ago, when the Central Plains fell, the martial world in Lin’an talked much of ‘unifying north and south,’ but in the end it all amounted to nothing but empty talk, and so came the crushing fourth Jurchen invasion from the south. That was a lesson for every martial artist under heaven — we can’t afford to repeat that mistake now. And with the Teacher himself, a grandmaster of this caliber, here to anchor things, this will surely become a story told for generations.”

Li Yanfeng nodded. “I hear that besides matters here in Jiangning, the Teacher’s main purpose in coming south this time was to help train an elite unit for Master Xu, in hopes of one day rivaling the so-called ‘special forces’ of the Black Banner. Will Uncle Zheng be taking part in this?”

Tan Zheng’s original nickname had been “Heshuo Heavenly Blade” — he had once been active around the Jin region, but after Great Teacher Lin’s resistance against the Jurchens failed, and after he lost a power struggle with that “Mystic Maiden Who Descended to the World,” he had come under suppression and shifted his activities south to Jiangnan. Once in the south, the “Heshuo” in his name had become something of a joke, so he simply shortened it to “Heavenly Blade” — sounding all the more formidable — and he had followed under Xu Zhaonan’s banner ever since. He nodded now.

“Matters of state have always ranked above matters of the martial world. Once you’ve joined the army, there’s little use in holding anything back. Master Xu is broad-minded and has always treated men of the martial world generously — over this past year and more, having spent so much time together exchanging ideas, we’ve all gained far more than before. Now that the Teacher has come, everyone feels they have someone solid to rely on. I’ll certainly be taking part. I wonder, though, how Worthy Nephew sees this matter.”

“Back in Tongshan, I’d already opened my own school, teaching the villagers martial arts — hoping that when outside enemies came, everyone would have the strength to resist. Having now taken up the position of Protector of the Great Luminous Sect, once Master Xu’s cause is fully established, I’ll surely answer the call from Tongshan in kind. Someday, when the two sides unite, or if you and the Teacher have gained anything from these training methods, I hope you won’t forget your nephew here. The essence of the Greater and Lesser Monkey Fists and the White Ape Through-Arm Fist — I can write it all down for Uncle Zheng right now.”

He cupped his fists, his words generous and heartfelt. Tan Zheng smiled and patted his fist, saying quietly, “Why give it to me? Find the right moment and hand it to the Teacher himself. The Teacher won’t covet your boxing manual — but with such sincerity from you, and the chance to receive the Teacher’s own careful guidance in return, wouldn’t that be a fine thing?”

He paused, then added, “Of course, it’s best done sooner rather than later. Right now everyone’s attention is still on the situation in Jiangning — no one’s given much thought yet to opening the schools wider and sharing training methods in the future. If you wait until the Teacher himself announces this and everyone rushes to hand over their secret manuals, it’ll already be too late.”

Tan Zheng’s guidance was given without any self-interest, and Li Yanfeng thanked him with genuine respect. After a moment, hearing the bustling noise from outside, he lowered his voice.

“But Uncle Zheng, I have to admit, I find the current situation in the city rather hard to understand. You know, in the art of war there’s the idea of alliances and counter-alliances — right now the city has the five great houses of the Fairness Party, plus whatever this ‘Great Dragon Head’ waiting in the wings amounts to, six or seven factions in all. Though our ‘Wheel-Turning King’ side has strong troops and horses, by rights we still shouldn’t be able to withstand the other four combined. It’s one thing for the Teacher to go after Zhou Shang — none of the factions get along with him anyway — but why take on every single house one after another? Being the first to strike, and taking the whole burden onto ourselves like this — I really don’t understand what Master Xu is thinking. Could there be something going on behind the scenes that we don’t know about?”

Having voiced these doubts, Li Yanfeng watched Tan Zheng’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Tan Zheng only smiled and shook his head. “I can’t quite say either. With the Teacher’s divine skill, fighting his way through one arena after another — there’s truly no one who can stand against him. But why he’d want to fight at all, that does leave one wondering. Perhaps Master Xu is confident enough to take on all four at once — or perhaps… he’s already secretly allied with the others, and this is all just a show to lull everyone else into complacency?”

Tan Zheng was skilled with the blade, but he clearly hadn’t looked deeply into this matter, and seeing this, Li Yanfeng felt a flicker of disappointment in his heart. Having come to Jiangning as deputy envoy of Liu Guangshi’s delegation, he wasn’t necessarily obligated to be loyal to Liu Guangshi, but he certainly had to be loyal to himself. Xu Zhaonan had started making moves the moment he entered the city, and not knowing the full picture behind such reckless confidence left him constantly uneasy. Since Tan Zheng didn’t know either, he’d have to consider asking someone else.

Their conversation had reached this point, and Li Yanfeng, having finished his practice, had already put on a loose martial artist’s robe. A servant came over just then and spoke quietly to Tan Zheng, who looked mildly surprised, then began to chuckle, turning to Li Yanfeng.

“Uncle Zheng, what is it?”

“Did you have someone spread a piece of news around the city a few days ago?”

“…Yes.” Li Yanfeng thought for a moment, then nodded. “Just a small matter. I had it passed along through one of Master Xu Longbiao’s men. What happened?”

“Two groups came looking into it today, asking questions and causing a bit of a stir. The first group had three people — two men and a woman, one of them a cripple — pressing people hard for information, and they eventually got your name. These three claimed to be men under Shi Baofeng.”

“Shi Baofeng…” Li Yanfeng frowned, then relaxed. “…I think I know roughly what this is about now. Uncle Zheng, on our side, should we back off for them?”

“No need,” Tan Zheng said, shaking his head briskly. “There’s always been bad blood among the five great kings of the Fairness Party. Given your standing now, whether or not you give Shi Baofeng face makes little difference. If you were an ordinary man, I’d advise you to be wary of his retaliation — but with your skill, I don’t think it matters much.”

Having said this, Tan Zheng paused again. “Of course, if the two of you have simply had some misunderstanding and you’d like to smooth things over with a peace-offering banquet, I’d be happy to mediate on your behalf.”

He’d covered every possibility with these words — on one hand affirming that Li Yanfeng had every right to clash with the other side, on the other suggesting a way out should he prefer not to — all without ever asking what had actually happened. Li Yanfeng laughed and shook his head. “I won’t hide it from you, Uncle Zheng — it stems from some trouble back in Tongshan…”

The friction that had occurred in Tongshan, and the reason he’d had news of it put out in the papers, wasn’t any great secret to begin with — it had simply been something he’d done offhandedly, and he now recounted it casually. Tan Zheng nodded in sudden understanding. “So that’s how it is… And the second group that came asking, do you have any idea who they might be, Worthy Nephew?”

“Oh?”

“This one called himself Long Aotian.” Tan Zheng laughed. “The title he gave was… the Alliance Leader of the martial world, hahaha.”

Li Yanfeng blinked in surprise, then burst out laughing as well. Ever since martial arts novels had risen and spread everywhere, self-proclaimed “alliance leaders of the martial world” holding some meeting or another had sprung up all over, by the hundreds if not the thousands — every one of them a self-important fool with no sense of proportion.

The two of them shared a laugh over this for a while, then Tan Zheng continued. “As you said, Worthy Nephew, this one’s young, but his skill really is quite good. Later, as he fled, his pursuers discovered he had a companion too — a young monk of twelve or thirteen, called ‘Wukong’… A pretentious fool who calls himself alliance leader like that probably has no real mission from the southwest. But then again, one boy of twelve or thirteen and another of fourteen or fifteen daring to roam the world like this — it’s entirely possible they come from some family with a martial tradition of their own.”

Li Yanfeng said, “A letter from home mentioned that this young man once boasted he’d come to Jiangning personally to settle scores with me. I thought it was just talk — heh, and here he actually came. Quite the young hero, indeed…”

Even as he said these words lightly, there was a flicker of murderous intent stirring faintly in his eyes. This arrogant young man had killed his sister and brother-in-law’s entire family, as well as two of his retained guests, back in Tongshan — he’d been searching for him with no luck, and now, unexpectedly, the man had dared come all the way to Jiangning. This was a sign that he truly didn’t regard him, Li Yanfeng, “the Monkey King,” as a figure of any consequence. In that moment, he almost wished the young man would come find him himself — if he didn’t flay the skin off him and make him suffer three days and three nights, he’d feel he’d disgraced his own reputation.

Tan Zheng didn’t notice the malice hidden in his heart. He clasped his hands behind his back, chuckling and shaking his head. “A young man of fourteen or fifteen, even a heaven-gifted prodigy, poses little threat to you now. As for those Shi family members, since you don’t intend to seek peace with them, you’ll want to stay a bit alert going forward. Of course, there’s no need to worry too much either — just remember, in everything, you have the Teacher and your brothers in the sect backing you up. Even if Shi Baofeng himself stood right in front of you, there’s nothing he could do to you.”

Tan Zheng’s words rang generous, and Li Yanfeng nodded.

“Yes. I, Yanfeng, would never bring shame to our Great Luminous Sect… Of course, if it truly comes to an assassination or a fight, let them come, whenever they like. Uncle Zheng, look — you said it yourself, two men and a woman, and one of them a cripple. Let all three come at me at once — what could they possibly do?”

“Exactly.” Tan Zheng thought it over, then laughed as well. “Two men and a woman, and one cripple.”

“Hah.”

“Hahahaha…”

The two of them laughed heartily, both thoroughly pleased.

Of course, once he turned away, Li Yanfeng privately found a connection through which to pass word of that “Five-Foot Pervert Demon” Long Aotian’s arrival in Jiangning over to the people of the “Equality King.” He himself was skilled in martial arts and backed by real power, so he wasn’t afraid — but giving the enemy a bit more trouble to deal with was simply adding strength to his own side. That was always his principle.

After all, in Jiangning at this moment, the ones most eager to find that Long Aotian were, in the end, Shi Baofeng’s men — this matter concerned the honor of the Shi family. He could wait for them to fight it out first, then step in himself, seize that young man, and deal with him properly at his leisure.

And even if things didn’t play out that way — if Shi Baofeng insisted on holding him accountable for leaking that little bit of information — well, then a fight was a fight. After all, two men and a woman and one cripple…

In the way of the martial arts, aside from being slightly outmatched in front of Teacher Lin, in his whole life — who had he ever had reason to fear?

Clang, clang, clang, clang…

It was afternoon. The sound of clashing blades rang out in the run-down courtyard.

Liang Siyi’s blade whirled, the fierce wind of the “Seven Unfurling Feathers of the Peacock King” howling through the air, while You Hongzhuo wielded a single-edged saber, blocking and weaving beside her. After some time fighting like this, Liang Siyi had broken into a light sweat, while You Hongzhuo showed no sign of fatigue. His footwork was light; at a certain point, he sheathed his blade and stepped aside. Liang Siyi stopped as well, catching her breath.

You Hongzhuo returned with a bowl of water and handed it to Liang Siyi.

“That Peacock King Sword of yours is far too domineering — it’s only really suited to the battlefield. If you run into someone who fights dirty, you’ll wear yourself out before long fighting like that. Also, the Peacock King Sword was originally meant to be wielded as a pair, but you’ve switched to a single-edged blade — that actually weakens the thrusting, jabbing, and pointing techniques within the swordplay… hmm, actually, I suppose that change was made specifically for battlefield use, wasn’t it?”

You Hongzhuo had met with An Xifu, and the previous night the two had made a covert scouting run on Wei Xuwen’s compound, though they hadn’t yet been able to locate where Miao Zheng, whom Wei Xuwen had captured, was being held.

Though the two sides now had a degree of trust between them, both were, after all, seasoned veterans of the martial world who had spent many years navigating it. An Xifu wouldn’t let You Hongzhuo see the whole of the forces under her command, and he certainly wasn’t going to set aside everything else just to focus on rescuing Miao Zheng. So the one still in contact with You Hongzhuo, and paired with him, remained the somewhat stone-faced and taciturn Liang Siyi. Meeting that afternoon, the two had sparred a little, getting a feel for each other’s true skill in preparation for further cooperation.

After You Hongzhuo finished speaking, Liang Siyi nodded. “When I trained with the sword, I never thought about personal duels. Actually, the twin swords of the Peacock King Sword consume even more stamina.”

She gave a brief explanation of the Peacock King Sword — in truth, the twin blades wielded by Wang Yin himself had both been quite heavy; in combat, the slashing and swinging strikes came one after another like a peacock spreading its tail, dazzling to watch. Mixed in among them were several killing techniques, transitions from slashing into jabbing, stabbing, pointing, and slicing motions — the finishing blow that came as the “peacock” folded its tail. Though these often caught opponents off guard, the power required, given the momentum involved, was actually greater still.

Liang Siyi was taller than the average woman, with hands that were solid and strong, but the Peacock King Sword’s lineage had presumably originally been passed down one master to one disciple, or at most a handful. Wang Yin, needing capable hands up north, had taken in dozens if not over a hundred adopted sons and daughters — and with that many students, the fine-grained supervision of each person’s skill inevitably suffered, so some of the more delicate killing techniques within the Peacock King Sword had been simplified, even supplemented with bladework, moving toward a broader, more sweeping style.

“Your inner breath is far stronger than the average woman’s, but your bladework — I feel there’s still room for improvement… Miss Liang, don’t think me presumptuous. On my trip south this time, I went to the Huaxia Army in the southwest and learned some techniques of the Overlord Blade style. I’ve had some thoughts on it — perhaps we could exchange ideas…” The two of them sat down beneath the eaves of the run-down courtyard, and once the conversation turned to bladework, You Hongzhuo grew rather talkative.

“All right,” Liang Siyi replied, concise as ever.

“Mm-hm, then let me lay out my thinking a bit. I think when Marshal Wang had you all convert a sword style into a blade style, it was meant to help you retain the slashing techniques of the swordplay, but that’s not really how the essence of blade technique is meant to be used… To really understand this, I think it might help if, in your spare time, you set the sword aside and practice with a single blade for a while… Look, that move you just did — it goes like this…”

You Hongzhuo took up his single-edged blade and demonstrated in the courtyard for a while, then picked up a wooden staff to stand in for a sword, demonstrating with both hands. Liang Siyi, having practiced the Peacock King Sword for years, possessed both considerable skill and sharp insight; whenever something struck a chord with her, her arms and wrists would move along with it, or she would join him in practicing the forms in the courtyard. Though she spoke little, her execution of the movements was precise, which pleased You Hongzhuo greatly.

The two exchanged ideas like this for quite a while, and both felt they had gained something from it. They then sat down in the courtyard to drink some water.

Liang Siyi looked at him. “Your bladework… how did you train it?”

“Me?”

“Mm.” Liang Siyi nodded. “Forgive my presumption.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” You Hongzhuo laughed. “Actually, I… mostly just taught myself…”

“Your internal cultivation came from childhood,” Liang Siyi said.

“Mm.” You Hongzhuo nodded, falling silent for a moment. “…My family… what we used to practice was called the You Family Blade style — really more of an unorthodox, self-taught sort of thing. My father… he never told me anything about the lineage of the blade style before he died. I just trained blindly from a young age. By the time I was in my teens, I hadn’t actually fought anyone yet, hadn’t hurt anyone — but then later… something happened… I remember… that was back in the eighth year of Jianshuo…”

You Hongzhuo, recalling the past, spoke now with a kind of studied lightness about his parents’ deaths, about the first time he’d killed someone and the feeling of that awakening, and then about his years wandering the martial world afterward, receiving guidance from various masters — such as Mr. Zhao and his wife, the “Twin Fiends of the Black Wind” — and later, the various battles he’d fought, all the experience accumulated through bloody killing. Even speaking of it now, he said it all with the same understated ease.

For reasons of his own, he made no mention of Luan Fei or the sworn-brotherhood matters. The afternoon sunlight streamed into the run-down courtyard, and Liang Siyi listened quietly, her gaze distant, drifting; several times she seemed about to say something, but in the end never did.

The two of them then stood up and sparred briefly once more…

Long Aotian took the young monk around the city for a while — they went to see the old Su family residence, tied as it was to his inner demons, ate some simple snacks at a few roadside stalls, and returned to Little Aotian’s lodgings at the Five Lakes Inn only as dusk approached.

The Alliance Leader of the Martial World, Long Aotian, spent lavishly, ordering three large platters of dishes, a great big fish, a plate of tofu, and one of greens, along with plenty of rice. His free spending with money left the young monk staring in disbelief, and even the innkeeper came over to try to talk him down: “If you can’t finish it all, order a bit less — I’ll give you a small fish instead…”

Long Aotian slammed the table. “We martial artists eat a lot, that’s just how it is! Take my money and bring the food — keep whining and I’ll tear this dump apart!”

His face was rather endearing, and though he had technically reached “adulthood” by the standards of this era, when he wasn’t actually trying to kill someone, his blustering and glaring carried little real menace. The innkeeper, met with a cold shoulder despite his warm concern, smiled and walked off.

Actually, the innkeeper’s real worry was that Long Aotian was flashing too much wealth and would draw unwanted attention. But our Long Aotian had already thought this through — he’d long wanted to make a show of strength around the inn anyway, and at this point didn’t mind letting his identity as a “martial arts master” become known.

Still, given his kindly appearance, and with the twelve-or-thirteen-year-old monk beside him looking even more meek and unassuming, when he made his little outburst, some of the traveling martial-world men in the inn glanced over but merely assumed they were some well-connected elder’s kids out looking for trouble, and not one of them approached — mainly because picking a fight with the two of them would have felt beneath their dignity anyway.

It was the age for growing bodies, and the two of them made short work of most of the meal. As they slowly savored the last of it, the evening sun shone in through the window beside them, and Long Aotian finally brought up, a little, what had happened that morning: “Hmph, the Wheel-Turning King’s men are all rotten thugs!”

Having spent the afternoon out sightseeing, and having just met, the young monk hadn’t dared bring up anything too sensitive, so he hadn’t even asked about the morning’s events. Now that “Big Brother Long” suddenly brought it up, the young monk’s shoulders flinched — he lowered his head and shoveled rice into his mouth, afraid the other might notice that his own master might be affiliated with the “Wheel-Turning King” faction.

Fortunately, the overbearing Long Aotian didn’t limit his cursing to just one target.

“You saw it this afternoon, didn’t you? This so-called Fairness Party — not a single decent one among their five fools. Unreasonable, slaughtering the innocent, slandering people’s good names… mm, right, speaking of which, what did you actually come to the city to do this time? Just to see the Su family residence?”

Long Aotian went on a bit about the Fairness Party, and the young monk nodded along in agreement, but when asked the second question, he shook his head.

“Actually, there’s nothing else, really.”

“Going to see your master?”

“Not while in Jiangning — this is my own personal practice.”

“Oh…” Long Aotian nodded. “Well, your skills seem decent enough — why don’t you just tag along with me for a while.”

He extended this invitation with great magnanimity. The young monk across from him swallowed his mouthful of rice, then, with some hesitation, pressed his palms together. “Amitabha. Actually… this humble monk has a question, and wanted to ask Big Brother Long…”

“Ask away.”

“This humble monk wanted to ask… why does Big Brother Long call himself the Five… Five-Foot… Pervert Demon…”

He’d heard this rumor from somewhere and had finally worked up the nerve to ask. Before he’d even finished speaking, Ning Ji’s palm came down hard on the table across from him — the table let out a dull thud, already bearing the imprint of his fingers.

The young monk wasn’t awed by this display of power; he was simply afraid he’d offended his new friend, and said quietly, “Actually… this humble monk doesn’t mean to have any opinion about Big Brother Long’s… preferences, but… my master always said, the character for ‘lust’ has a blade over it, and women aren’t good things, mainly because… it damages the body…”

“That’s all slander!” Long Aotian said firmly, having steadied his emotions.

“Huh? It’s slander?”

“Hmph, this was all done by those bastards back in Tongshan — I’ve already figured it out!”

Long Aotian’s expression turned serious, and he began recounting the whole journey he’d taken — leaving the southwest, meeting a group of scholars and a father-and-daughter pair of street performers, then arriving in Tongshan, and everything that had happened there… The young monk’s expression visibly relaxed as he listened, and when he heard about what had happened to Wang Xiuniang and Lu Wenke in Tongshan, a flicker of righteous anger crept into his eyes as well, and he nodded emphatically. “Those villains! They deserve to be killed!”

“Hmph, knowing I was coming to Jiangning, they sent people ahead to spread rumors and stir up trouble, giving me… that kind of nickname. I will not let them get away with it. Once I leave Jiangning, I’m going straight back to Tongshan to wipe out their whole family! Of course, while we’re here in Jiangning, I need to do a few more good deeds, to build up my reputation as ‘Alliance Leader of the Martial World’…”

“Mm-hm, Big Brother Long, I’ll help you.”

“Good. From now on, you’ll be Vice-Leader of the Martial Alliance — ‘the Little Sage Equal to Heaven,’ Sun Wukong.”

“Amitabha. What I’m called doesn’t really matter to this humble monk.”

“I’ve already thought it all through. None of the Fairness Party people in this city are any good — as for that business in Tongshan, that Li Jianfeng fellow is right here in the city, and I’ll have to kill him sooner or later. But that fat pig Lin from the Great Luminous Sect is currently stirring up trouble for Xu Zhaonan, so to let these fools tear each other apart, we’ll let him be for now. These next few days, while I make my rounds through the city, there’s one great villain in particular we can track down first and kill, to make our names known.”

“Amitabha. Sadhu, sadhu.” The young monk blinked and looked at him.

“It’s that so-called ‘Heaven-Slayer’ Wei Xuwen. Starting tonight, we’re going to find him, and I’ll personally plan out how to take him down.”

In the evening sun, Long Aotian thumped his own chest.

The young monk across from him chewed the rice in his mouth; having been in the city a few days now, he already knew of Wei Xuwen’s dark reputation, and nodded vigorously:

“—Mm.”

And so, in the blazing glow of the setting sun, the Martial Alliance Leader’s reputation-building campaign was decided.