In all fairness, this decision of Li Tianyou’s had been an extremely difficult one to make—from the very start, he had never imagined he would end up saying words like these.
The people he had always been wary of were Liu Dabiao, and that seemingly idle Chen Fan, who occasionally leaned toward favoring the Overlord Blade Battalion. But that he must, whatever the cost, kill Ning Liheng—that was the firmest decision he had made under these circumstances.
Such a decision demanded a great deal of weighing, but the very fact that he had come to the Four Seasons Hall today meant he had already prepared himself mentally, having already accounted for the retaliation from the Overlord Blade Battalion that would surely follow once he had killed this man without regard for the consequences. This resolve had shown itself from the moment he came up the stairs—which was precisely why he had never bothered to pay any heed to the attitudes of Zhu Yanlin and the others. He meant to take this scholar’s life before the Overlord Blade Battalion could even react, and afterward, however unreasonable the Overlord Blade Battalion proved to be, he would simply have to accept the cost.
But an overly idealized state of mind, in the end, always turns out to have left more things outside its calculations than expected—or rather, things that had in fact been accounted for turned out to be far more severe than he had estimated.
That Ning Liheng and the man beside him would resist—he had expected that. That there would be onlookers—he had expected that too. What he had not reckoned with, in the end, was the reaction the two of them would produce under such extreme circumstances.
Ning Liheng and this young man had no real chance, and likely never would have. Zhu Yanlin and the others, whatever happened, would never dare intervene in this. Lou Jingzhi might perhaps say something, but it seemed he would not. If Li Tianyou, even now, remained utterly resolved and simply had his men rush in together, the outcome would not change in the slightest. But that young man’s desperate fight had gone too far. The onlookers now numbered forty or fifty—scholars and men of letters, famous courtesans—and while none of them dared say a word now, the talk that followed afterward would inevitably spread word of what had happened here today.
Being called domineering and high-handed—that had never troubled him. As Li Tianrun’s brother, even if he behaved with the utmost humility and caution, people would still whisper that he had only reached his current position by riding on his family’s coattails. But now, watching the expressions of those around him, Li Tianyou suddenly realized that in other people’s mouths, this young man might well be transformed from a bystander into a loyal, righteous martyr. What others thought of him personally, he did not care—but how the Overlord Blade Battalion would view it, he could not afford to dismiss so lightly after all.
If he killed Ning Liheng without regard for consequences, what then? The Overlord Blade Battalion would not let it rest, Liu Dabiao would come looking for trouble, but in the end, once the dust settled, both sides would still have to consider the bigger picture, and this feud would still need to be resolved somehow. But if word got out that he had killed such a loyal and devoted young man of the Overlord Blade Battalion, and if it were embellished in the retelling, the nature of the matter would become something else entirely.
What had happened up to now could be dismissed as a slap to their pride—something that could eventually be smoothed over. But if it reached that latter point, it would be a solid, resounding slap in the face. In other people’s eyes, the entire Overlord Blade Battalion would lose face utterly, and it would then genuinely spark a full-scale war between the Pacification Battalion and the Overlord Blade Battalion. He was, after all, Li Tianrun’s brother, and bringing this kind of trouble down on his elder brother was something he still had to take into account.
If Liu Jin had fought with a little more restraint, or if his own men had restrained him from the start, or if he himself had simply listened to Ning Liheng and left, things would never have gotten this brutal, and the problems that followed would never have arisen…
Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, Wenren Buer, too, had only just come to the same realization, but before he could think further on the glimmer of opportunity that had opened up, Li Tianyou had already risen and begun to speak. Unlike Li Tianyou, who had been resolved from the very start to see Ning Liheng dead, Wenren Buer had been searching this whole time for some way out—some turning point. With Li Tianyou already so utterly resolved that even throwing himself into it would likely mean certain death, a strange thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.
Ten steps, and Ning Liheng has already reckoned it all out—this was something he had once heard said of Ning Liheng, an appraisal of the man. And it was for this reason that, at first, he had held onto a sliver of hope: that perhaps he himself had no way out, but that this scholar, who had already worked miracles once at Taiping Lane and again on the road near Huzhou, might have some clever stratagem, some silver tongue that could talk Li Tianyou out of his intent to kill. Unfortunately, from the very start, the attitude Ning Liheng had maintained had been one of near-total, resigned despair.
A scholar drawing a blade, intent on fighting to the death. Especially once Liu Jin had cursed so violently, provoking Li Tianyou’s side into striking suddenly—by that point, Wenren Buer had essentially given up any thought along those lines. It really was, after all, just a scholar’s desperate, doomed struggle. Reckless to this degree, there was no longer any chance of bringing Li Tianyou back to his senses; he even felt a flicker of resentment toward Liu Jin, that reckless hothead, for ruining things. And yet, seeing the outcome that Liu Jin’s brutal display had produced, he found himself abruptly… stunned.
Earlier, facing down that dozen-plus band of men with murderous intent, killing that spearman had, in truth, been unnecessary. Kill one and come out ahead? In reality, there had never been any chance of actually killing the man. At the time, Ning Liheng’s move had truly seemed an all-out, reckless act of desperation. But what if… he had done it on purpose?
Ten steps, and he’s already reckoned it out—Wenren Buer could only work backward from the result after the fact, but supposing there really was such a man in this world, one who had seen it all coming from the very start—almost through inflammatory means, he had steered everything toward tragedy, using a desperate, near-suicidal display to firmly establish, beyond doubt, that the Pacification Battalion was bullying one man with many. Because, strategically speaking, it was likely only the Overlord Blade Battalion that Li Tianyou truly had to fear—even with Li Tianyou already having thrown caution to the wind, Ning Liheng had, through what looked like sheer recklessness, steadily driven up that fear bit by bit, all while seeing only the direction to aim for, willing to gamble his own life to tear open, forcibly, a sliver of a chance to survive.
This was merely a notion that had surfaced abruptly in his mind—whether true or not, there was probably no way to confirm it. But looking at that figure, blade in hand, his expression nearly indifferent to life and death, Wenren Buer still felt a faint shiver run through him. Even under such mortal danger, the one thing he himself had thought to arrange for was the safety of the maidservant at his side—surely a man like that could not truly be someone utterly indifferent to life and death.
Still, even granting a sliver of hope, on further reflection, that chance remained painfully slim. Judging matters honestly, Ning Liheng might indeed be able to handle a blade, might have some measure of brute courage, but as could already be seen, whatever skill he had lacked proper method—for all the force he put into it, it amounted to little more than a desperate, all-out brawl. Ordinary people would fear him, certainly, but compared to the men here now, he still fell far short.
Ning Liheng’s image as a scholar had, for too long, run too deep. To someone like Li Tianyou, intent on killing him, every move he had made recently within the academy was already well known. Skilled in unconventional stratagems, bold enough to risk his life, yet able to stay calm at critical moments—entirely unlike the ordinary man of letters. But even so, how could he possibly escape this deadly trap tonight?
“I, Li Tianyou… will duel you one on one. If you can kill me today, that one there can walk out of here alive!”
Having called off his men from attacking, Li Tianyou spoke these words, and Wenren Buer’s heart gave a sudden lurch. If they could manage to kill Li Tianyou here, the consequences between the Overlord Blade Battalion and the Pacification Battalion would turn out even better than before; amid such chaos, he himself might also have a better chance of smuggling Ning Liheng, along with the maidservant Xiao Chan, out of the city. As this thought crossed his mind, he saw Ning Liheng’s gaze quietly sweep in his direction as well.
“You mean it?”
But what followed was not so ideal a turn of events after all. The man standing off to one side—the one Qin Gulai had earlier addressed as Master Luo—spoke up. “General, all of us are here—how could we possibly let our commander cross blades with the man himself? Allow this one to take the life of such a treacherous man.”
The men nearby, already feeling somewhat put out, spoke up one after another:
“Let me do it.”
“If the General strikes himself, how could the rest of us still show our faces afterward!”
“This man owes me a blood debt too—I only just recognized him. If it’s to be a duel, I beg the General to let me do it! Take his worthless life.”
Amid this outpouring, one man, built like an iron tower, suddenly seemed to recall something and stepped forward to make his own request. The others were somewhat puzzled at first, but as he explained, it became clear that when Fang La’s army had first attacked Hangzhou, this man had been among the advance scouts sent into the city. During the destruction inside the city, a scholar across a river had thrown a stone at him; the stone had missed him but struck one of his fellow soldiers directly in the head, killing him instantly—and only now did he recognize Ning Liheng as that same man.
“Since that’s the case, then let you avenge your brother!” Li Tianyou, after a brief moment’s thought, made his decision. “You there, surnamed Ning—today, grievance for grievance, debt for debt. The two of you will duel one on one—no one will say the Pacification Battalion bullied you! And if you manage to keep your life, I’ll let you go free today, how about that?” He knew this man beside him was named Tang Kou; though his martial skill was not the highest among those present, he was, by nature, the most vicious and eager to kill, utterly unafraid of a fight to the death—facing this scholar, who, reckless as he was, dared to fight to the death, seemed the perfect match.
“Avenge your brother? And who will avenge the woman and child you had killed?” Even as Li Tianyou spoke, Tang Kou had already drawn his blade with a flash of steel and was advancing on Ning Liheng. Ning Liheng narrowed his eyes, then turned to Li Tianyou. “You mean what you say? None of you will interfere?”
“You. Have. My. Word.” Li Tianyou spoke each word deliberately. But before he had even finished, Ning Liheng, who had been facing off against him this entire time, did something entirely unexpected—he turned and bolted! As he ran, he hurled a chair, which struck and extinguished a nearby lamp burning on the ceiling.
Li Tianyou nearly burst out laughing, then bellowed suddenly, “All you men below, listen well! Not even a mosquito is to slip out! Anyone trying to break out—kill them on sight!”
The shout rang through the entire building. When he had proposed the duel, it had only been to preserve the pretense of not bullying the man with numbers—it did not mean he would actually hold to some rigid code of honor. If this Ning Liheng thought he could use the agreement that no one else would interfere as a chance to flee, the men outside would simply swarm in and cut him down, and Li Tianyou would not mind that in the least.
Even as he shouted, Tang Kou gave a booming laugh and charged forward. Despite his massive build, once he broke into a run he moved like a fired cannonball. The others had only just begun to react when he flung a table aside, his footsteps thundering like rolling drums, and closed the distance behind the fleeing Ning Liheng in an instant. Ning Liheng suddenly leapt forward, diving beneath a nearby table; Tang Kou slashed downward, splinters flying across the tabletop, his body driving forward and shoving the table ahead of him. That square table crashed into another one ahead, and Ning Liheng, rolling several times beneath it, scrambled up on the other side and shoved both tables hard toward his opponent, sending the second one flying up toward the man’s upper body—Tang Kou’s advance faltered for a moment, but the next instant, driven by sheer forward momentum, he smashed through both tables at once, sending them flying!
Blade-light flickered, sparks bursting through the air; in just two strikes, Ning Liheng, his strength no match, was already being forced back step by step. He had chosen this direction because it offered relatively more obstacles, weaving among the surrounding tables and chairs, snatching up a bench to swing at his opponent’s head, only for the man to knock it aside with one hand, the bench snapping in two in midair.
Earlier, the clash between Ning Liheng, Liu Jin, and the spearman had reached its brutal peak almost instantly—to onlookers, it had seemed little more than a sequence of talk, fight, talk, agreeing to terms before finally clashing. But now, the confrontation had unfolded suddenly and directly. Ning Liheng’s flight and evident intentions left many puzzled, but what followed was already a straightforward clash of raw strength—blade light flashing everywhere, that iron-tower of a man closing in with wild fury, while the scholar, relying on nothing more than sheer nerve, found his robe sliced open at the hem in the blink of an eye, retreating in increasingly ragged fashion.
Wenren Buer, however, noticed that the direction Ning Liheng had chosen to flee toward was, at this point, one of the darker corners of the second floor—and that he had deliberately extinguished the lamp there as well, as though he meant to plunge the surroundings into darkness for some scheme of his own. Given the glance Ning Liheng had sent his way earlier, Wenren Buer found himself following along beneath his feet, while on the other side, Li Tianyou, with a cold snort, advanced as well, waving his men forward.
“Surround him—don’t let him get away!”
More than a dozen men closed in together, though they did not strike—merely tightening the circle, since Ning Liheng had by now drawn close to the windows of the Four Seasons Hall, and they meant to guard against any attempt to flee outright. Within that ring of battle, the two clashed once more; Ning Liheng staggered backward, and Tang Kou kicked out—Ning Liheng threw both arms up hastily to block, and his whole body flew backward, crashing through a door and tumbling into one of the private rooms of the Four Seasons Hall.
The lighting outside was already dim; these smaller rooms along the side of the floor had no lamps lit at all, leaving them in complete darkness. Wenren Buer suddenly spotted his chance and moved quickly toward the side. Tang Kou gave a roaring shout and charged in; the sound of clashing metal rang out once—and then, from inside, came Tang Kou’s laughter.
“Hahaha—”
The instant the laughter stopped, a round object came flying out of the darkness of the room. Everyone present was seasoned enough in these matters to recognize at a glance that it was a human head. Everything seemed to fall neatly into place—Tang Kou had charged in, killed that Ning Liheng, and the nearest soldier, still moving at speed, reached out with one hand and caught the head with practiced steadiness, coming to a stop, chin lifting with proud satisfaction…