The cabin, noisy and bustling yet chaotic, had originally been lit by many lamps and candles—not exactly resplendent, but bright and clear enough. Most of the noble young men had their household guards close at hand, and around the dock, soldiers were still running to and fro. Even though the theft of the birthday tribute had only just happened, few imagined that something similar could happen again here, so soon.
It was like standing in a safe place watching a flood surge past—no matter how grave one’s expression, no matter how much people discussed it, in their hearts it hadn’t quite become real yet.
Until that sound suddenly tore through the air of the hall, like thick darkness abruptly bursting open.
At that moment, the person standing closest to the two of them was probably Li Shishi. She could not even tell what was happening—the smile at the corner of Ning Yi’s mouth, still there in her eyes a moment before, had already been replaced by that sudden furious roar.
A fist blade shot past her, clothes snapping in its wake, cutting the wind like a tiger’s roar, even booming a muffled thud in the air—the energy of one who had broken through the sixth of the Six Paths. On the other side, Yan Qing, under his alias Wang Xian, stepped forward, closing the distance in a single stride, his arm meeting Ning Yi’s fist head-on.
Almost at the same instant, in the crowd around them, Qi Xinyong’s steel spear had already flashed out and stabbed forward; Qi Xinhan’s long spear, still wrapped in cloth, was pulled from its wrapping with a reverse motion so violent the steel spear inside shuddered like a wild dragon, and the whole wrapping burst open in the air, while on the other side, Wenren Bu’er closed in at the same time.
In that instant, in that narrow space, the crackling sounds of blows exchanged mixed with the frantic patter of footwork, rising in a mad rush. Floorboards, steel spears, wrapping cloth, all caught in the shaken candlelight, the figures locked in combat trailing afterimages as they moved. A stool flew through the air, blasted sideways like a cannonball, slamming into a window; the cloth wrapped around the steel spear burst into countless fluttering butterflies; a lantern on the ceiling exploded with a bang, flames scattering in every direction.
But in the next instant, Yan Qing had already seized Ning Yi’s arm—with a furious roar, two spinning steps, then the whistling wind of the spear, a shape rushing in—both figures lost their balance and flew into the air, and then Ning Yi was hurled flying, while Yan Qing was sent flying the other way.
With a crash, Ning Yi’s body slammed into the table and chairs at the side, landing in a sorry heap, while Yan Qing, almost in the same instant he touched down, swung up a round table and smashed it into the charging Qi Xinyong. He landed on his feet, staggered back a few steps, then finally managed to steady himself by grabbing the ship’s cabin post behind him. His hands, back, and shoulder were already covered in blood.
Qi Xinyong and the others closed in around him. Only then did someone in the cabin cry out loudly, “What are you all doing!”
“Brother Wang, are you all right!”
“Who are you people!”
Yan Qing had always been a handsome, refined-looking man, carrying an air of scholarly grace, but now, one hand braced against the round pillar, his sleeve torn, the muscles of his arm knotted with tension, looking down at the crowd, there was something of a hero’s bearing about him. Yet though his eyes had already swept over skilled fighters like Qi Xinyong and Wenren Bu’er, what he paid the most attention to was Ning Yi, still crawling in disarray out of the shattered table.
Ning Yi’s left sleeve had also torn, dotted with spots of blood—though not his own. Gritting his teeth as he climbed to his feet, he pulled a concave piece of iron from within his sleeve and flung it, its raised surface bristling with grim hooked barbs.
Among Liangshan’s ranks, Yan Qing’s wrestling skill had no equal—unarmed, even a brute like Li Kui would be thrown around like a rag doll in front of him. Ning Yi, for all he had taken action and had the benefit of Lu Hongti’s teachings, was nowhere close to matching him in martial cultivation. The strikes of a broken sixth path were mere brute force; in their earlier frantic exchanges, Yan Qing had appeared to be trading blows head-on, but in fact, the instant of contact, he had dissolved the force entirely and then simply seized Ning Yi’s left hand.
Only he had not expected that Ning Yi’s forearm had a hooked, barbed iron plate concealed on it all along. However masterful his wrestling technique, grappling was still fundamentally about grip—the harder Yan Qing gripped, the more severe the wound in his palm became, yet he didn’t dare let go easily either. He twisted, spinning Ning Yi around twice before hurling him away with force. Having lost his balance, Ning Yi still managed to fire a small crossbow bolt from the mechanism hidden in his right sleeve, and the little arrow buried itself in Yan Qing’s shoulder.
In terms of martial skill, whether Wenren Bu’er or the brothers Qi Xinyong and Qi Xinhan, all of them had shown themselves in that brief clash to be far above Ning Yi. And yet, in that instant of engagement, his injuries had come almost entirely because of Ning Yi. It was also because of the searing pain in his hand that his back had taken the full force of a spear-shaft blow from Qi Xinyong, leaving it a bloody mess by now.
None of the others yet knew the reason for the fight; many had already struck up some acquaintance with Wang Xian, but even so their protests amounted to no more than a brief scolding. Ning Yi tossed aside the iron plate and stood up from where he’d fallen, looking toward Yan Qing, and said quietly, “Handsome.” And even as he rose, Yan Qing was already backing toward the cabin wall behind him, gritting his teeth as he said, “Despicable…”
Neither side hesitated in the slightest—almost the instant the words left his mouth, Ning Yi’s right hand was already rising, aimed straight at him with the grim muzzle of a fire-lance. Yan Qing quickened his steps at once, charging for the window.
Boom—
Bang—
The short firearm shattered one window, but Yan Qing had already burst out through another window beside it, and right after him came Qi Xinyong, Qi Xinhan, and Wenren Bu’er, three shadows and spear-shadows flickering, as Yan Qing leapt into the darkness of the Bian River below.
“Catch him!”
Wenren Bu’er’s shout carried in from outside, mixing with Ning Yi’s voice in the cabin.
“Dead or alive, either’s fine!”
In the span of only a few breaths, the fight had gone from that first frenzied, violent clash to what looked afterward like a calm but still swift chase and flight—blood everywhere, and the deafening crack of Ning Yi’s gunfire. In truth, this had been a fight they’d gone into without quite enough preparation.
Yan Qing was alert by nature and highly skilled in martial arts. Though they had been watching him, to avoid tipping their hand they had only probed indirectly—watching who he made contact with, then working backward from those contacts to infer his likely intentions. But as for his true identity, they had never been able to fully confirm it. Had Li Shishi not spoken up just then, Ning Yi would never have used the name “Lu Junyi” as a test under those circumstances; and without that test, one shot from behind would have finished him off for certain.
By this point, the people in the cabin had finally begun to grasp what had happened, and some were already coming this way, shouting questions. Others had rushed out to check on the man’s condition after he’d fallen into the water.
“Just who are you people—speak up, or I’ll—”
“What crime has Brother Wang committed…”
“Despicable, nothing but underhanded tricks—if you’ve got a grudge, why not challenge Brother Wang one on one…”
Amid the uproar, Li Shishi still stood rooted where she was, somewhat unable to process it all—why the two sides had suddenly fought to the death right beside her. She wanted to say something just then, but seeing that Ning Yi paid no attention at all to these questioning noblemen, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as he held the fire-lance and walked past Chen Jingui, she caught, faintly, a sentence he muttered: “Popular fellow, isn’t he…”
Those approaching were about to draw closer when another woman’s figure moved past Li Shishi, head held high, blocking their path outright. “What do you all think you’re doing! That Wang Xian is obviously a bad man! You’ve all been fooled and don’t even know it! Do you know that when my master was in Hangzhou, even that traitor Fang La didn’t dare speak to him like that!”
The one who’d stepped out to stop them was none other than the young commandery princess, Zhou Pei. Her words startled just about everyone present—even Ning Yi blinked, turning his head to glance at her, thinking to himself that Fang La probably would have dared—she was laying it on rather thick—but in the end he said nothing and simply walked on out.
Zhou Pei had only ever heard about Ning Yi’s exploits in Hangzhou; from what Kang Xian had told her, since Ning Yi had outmaneuvered Fang La, that surely meant Fang La couldn’t hold a candle to him. She was speaking now with her chin held high in pride. And given that her family here held the highest rank of anyone present, who would dare argue with her? Li Shishi listened, dumbstruck; nearby, Zhuo Yunfeng too stood there dumbstruck. After a moment, someone who knew Ning Yi spoke up, mentioning that this was the very Ning Liheng who had written “How Long Will the Bright Moon Appear” and “Green Jade Table.” Only then did Zhou Pei march off, thoroughly pleased with herself, to go find Ning Yi and ask him just who this Wang Xian really was, all the while calling out a few more times as she went: “Catch him! Take him alive—if you can’t take him alive, kill him!”
In truth, though several small boats had already pushed out into the middle of the canal in the darkness to begin the search, by now Yan Qing’s figure had already vanished from the water.
Meanwhile, another batch of news from the direction of the Xuzhou troops was arriving via scout riders once more…
…
Amid the woods and fields along the bank after the rain, torches burned. Crate after crate of goods was being unloaded from the great ship and loaded onto carts; a few crates had been opened and set by the roadside, and in the firelight, the crates were full of gleaming gold ware. Lu Junyi, Zhu Wu, and the others stood there with some of the items in hand, talking and admiring them as they went.
“Truly fine goods, worth a fortune… We checked—most of these crates are gold and silver ware, and there’s some cloth over there. Brother Lu, you’ve probably seen no shortage of things like this before—these are genuine, aren’t they?”
“They are indeed. If there’s any jade or porcelain, you’d best tell the men to handle it gently.”
“On a journey like this, hard going as it is, if there really are any large, fragile porcelain pieces, might as well just smash them outright.”
“That’s true enough…” Lu Junyi nodded. “All along the way, of all of us, Brother Zhu’s job here was the cleanest and most efficient by far.”
“Ha ha, not at all—Brother Lin and the others breaking that jailbreak in Jiangning, now that shook the whole realm.”
“Has word not yet reached you in full detail, Brother Zhu? Don’t know the particulars?”
“That’s right, we’ve been on the move the whole way, stopping and starting. Though we did hear the general gist of it along the road.” Zhu Wu considered this. “How did it go? Did something go wrong?”
Lu Junyi frowned. “The jailbreak itself went smoothly enough. It’s just that Brother Xi went to settle a score with that family, and ran into trouble—hit a hard target he couldn’t handle. I heard… Brother Wei Dingguo was killed on the spot, and Brother Bao Xu and Brother Xue Yong have both been left crippled.”
“How could that happen!?” Zhu Wu exclaimed in astonishment. After a moment’s thought, he asked again, “Wasn’t it Brother Lin Chong who went there? His spear technique has no equal, and with Iron Ox’s skill and temperament besides, surely that Su family should have been wiped out entirely?”
“No.” Lu Junyi shook his head. “I heard they only managed to kill about half. The other side, by one man’s strength alone, killed Brother Wei, wounded Brother Bao and Brother Xue, and then, facing the rest, forced them all back. According to the letter that came in, that man was cunning and vicious, exceedingly hard to deal with…”
He said “cunning and vicious,” but in Zhu Wu’s and the others’ ears, they could naturally hear something else in those words. Zhang Shun, standing there, frowned. “Just one man?”
“Mm. As Brother Xi mentioned before—it’s the man who married into the Su family, the matrilocal son-in-law of the Su daughter. Everyone used to think he was just some scholar; turns out, they were all the ones who capsized in the ditch.” Lu Junyi raised his head. “Goes by the name Ning Liheng. Iron Ox and the others say that, given the chance, they’ll go back and kill him without fail, and wipe out the entire Su family.”
“Of course we must!” someone among the group shouted. “I can hardly wait to march on Jiangning this instant!”
“Ah, let’s finish this business first. In any case, after this, the court’s face is bound to take a serious blow. That’s the priority right now. Once everything’s been transferred again, they won’t be able to catch up to us anymore… Brothers, we’ve pulled off a fine job tonight—once it’s done, we can think about everything else!”
“Right!”
“Business first!”
“Damn Jiangning…”
“Just remember that man’s name—”
Not wanting the news to dampen their spirits, the group began shouting again, and the underlings carrying the goods, seeing their leaders roused, joined in too, some brandishing their blades, some clapping. “Yes!”
“Roar—”
The shouting rose for a while, and everyone went back to hauling the last of the crates. It was just then that, from the woods in the distance, a sudden furious shout rang out, followed by the sound of galloping hooves—a man came charging in on a warhorse, and the sentries near and far were all alerted. The rider called out as he came: “Watch out… cough… ambush… they’re coming…”
Zhu Wu’s group already had over a hundred men, and Lu Junyi’s side, handling their own business, had close to a hundred elite men as well. In an instant, blades were drawn all around with a series of ringing sounds, and someone had already recognized the rider. “It’s Brother Little Yi!” In the blink of an eye, Yan Qing, soaked through and covered in blood, came galloping up close, stumbling as he tumbled off the horse’s back, looking behind him. “They… they’d already seen through us, cough, cough…”
“What happened? What in the world happened?”
“I—I don’t know. I was on the ship, thought I hadn’t been found out, but then, not long before, someone suddenly appeared, and they… they might have already set up an ambush beforehand. I don’t know that man—seems his name is… Ning Liheng…”
“…”
Yan Qing had no idea what significance lay in that name. Earlier, after Li Shishi had made the introduction, the man had grown alert at once, and he kept wondering what exactly that reaction meant. What chilled him most, though, was the scene he had just seen as he rushed in.
He had originally meant to warn all his brothers no matter what, and had made his way here at a gallop, careful the whole way not to be followed. But as he neared, he suddenly discovered a vast, silent encirclement already in place—countless soldiers holding bows, blades, and spears, forming a great ring closing in. Yan Qing had already been spotted, and, almost in utter despair, had tried to charge through and raise the alarm at all costs, desperately attempting to break through the line. Yet the other side, under whatever order they had received, simply watched him coldly with countless arrows trained on him, letting him pass, not loosing a single shaft.
By the time he finished speaking, the mood on the field had turned to ice. At that same moment, from over by the woods, came the sound of clapping and drumming, much like the cheer they had raised earlier to rouse their own spirits—only sparse now, from just two or three people.
A few horses walked slowly out from that direction, the riders on them clapping. The moment Yan Qing saw them, he recognized the man at once—it was that Ning Liheng, and on the horses beside him were Chen Jingui, Wenren Bu’er, and the three Qi brothers. Yan Qing said, “That’s Ning Liheng over there…” And when he looked again, behind the horses, an endless line of soldiers was gradually spreading out, holding blades, spears, and bows, closing in silently from every direction.
An encirclement on this scale looked for all the world like something out of a battle between armies tens of thousands strong—partly because they had begun drawing the ring from an extremely great distance, with elite men sweeping ahead, so that the more than two hundred men had not managed to spot or raise the alarm in time despite their scouts. It was also thanks to the combined efforts of the Princess Chengguo’s estate, the birthday tribute affair, and the Secret Investigation Bureau together that they had been able to mobilize such a force this time.
Small boats, too, were already coming downriver from upstream, one after another.
But at that moment, aside from the rustle of footsteps, the only truly piercing sound was the cold clapping led by Ning Yi. Astride his horse, Ning Yi’s face bore no smile, while Chen Jingui, riding alongside, wore a bright grin as he clapped along.
“Bravo—”
It sounded like a continuation of their earlier cheer, only jarringly out of place now.
Ning Yi glanced left and right. “Come lend a hand with the applause.”
Qi Xinhan tucked his steel spear under his arm and clapped, expressionless.
Clap-clap, clap-clap-clap.
“Well done.”
Clap—clap-clap—
“Congratulations.”
“You got the birthday tribute.”
Clap-clap-clap-clap-clap-clap…
In the night wind, the flat, rhythmless sound of clapping went on.