The heavy rain was still falling, the sky sunk in darkness. By this hour on ordinary days, it should have begun to grow light, but as if this were an extension of the last thunderstorm of summer, the whole sky remained submerged in the dimness of night. Ning Yi sat by the railing on the second floor, watching the people below busily preparing breakfast. When Zhu Hu came over, Ning Yi asked, “Brother Zhu, roughly how much farther is it?”
“To Anping County and Heiniu Ridge, if riding hard, it would take about half a day more — but with weather like this, the roads will be hard going. It’s all mountain roads over there, in poor condition; in this kind of heavy rain, if we get stuck halfway, it’ll probably cost even more time.” Zhu Hu, roughly understanding his mood, added, “And even if only ten or twenty of us rode ahead on horseback, even if we got there now, it probably wouldn’t mean much.”
“That serious?”
“Well, this…”
There was a certain authority to Ning Yi’s tone at this moment, carried along with his mood. Zhu Hu found it a bit awkward to answer, but soon saw Ning Yi shake his head and laugh. “Heh, just joking. I was overthinking it…” His mind was preoccupied with Lu Hongti’s condition — his anxiety had already been raised to its peak — but he quickly caught himself and turned the conversation.
Zhu Hu laughed as well. “Compared to Liangshan, of course it’s nothing. It’s just that in this area right now, it’s a mess of dragons and snakes all mixed together, and the situation is especially chaotic at the moment — going in rashly could lead to trouble.”
“Will two hundred men be enough?”
“Hard to say.” Zhu Hu shook his head. “The problem isn’t too big — but once we get there, it’s outlaw territory. The name Dulong Ridge can be used there, and Liheng’s reputation for smashing Liangshan and the government forces can be used too. Among them, some will be afraid, some won’t — but it’s hard to say whether there might be some reckless fellow out to make a name for himself, willing to risk anything. That fellow known as ‘Ten-Thousand-Li Lone Wanderer,’ Monk Tunyun, has long been wanted by the authorities, but in this area, he’s still someone who stirs things up wherever he goes and makes everyone afraid…”
Ning Yi nodded. Once past the border of Yunzhou, counties like Zhuxi and Anping were mostly wild, mountainous areas, also a gathering place for outlaws of the rivers and lakes. But these people were different from Liangshan — they scattered into small bands; the army could suppress them, but the moment they were suppressed, they’d simply disperse, and once the army left, they’d come back. If the short-term goal were to break up these groups, it would achieve little, and would instead only stir up popular resentment. This, too, was the peculiar ecology of the two Shandong circuits. Even if Ning Yi brought two hundred men in, he still couldn’t simply run roughshod over the place — and besides, due to the heavy rain, the two hundred men hadn’t even managed to gather together yet.
It was just that in such heavy rain, this part of Shandong was not a prosperous region to begin with. His own group could at least take shelter temporarily in this run-down post station, but where could Lu Hongti — already wounded — go to find shelter from the rain? She alone had stirred up such a great storm in the rivers and lakes; before, in fleeing her pursuers, she could of course pick off stragglers when the chance arose, appearing formidable — but she was, after all, only one person. To avoid being found, how much vigilance would she need to maintain at all times, in every place? Thinking this, Ning Yi couldn’t help but feel anxious about the heavy rain before him.
After a while, the sky beyond the clouds began to lighten slightly, and the porridge and steamed buns at the post station were already cooked. Ning Yi and the others ate in the post station’s main hall, continuing to discuss the situation around Anping County with Zhu Hu and Zhu Biao.
“Among these people, the most formidable in martial skill are probably still Sun Li, Lin Chong, Shi Jin, Chen Jinxia, Lu Wenhu, and Monk Tunyun. Sun Li and Lin Chong aside, Chen Jinxia and Lu Wenhu are themselves great figures of Qilu — well known even in Daming Prefecture. Chen Jinxia goes by the nickname ‘Iron Fist’ — his signature skill, they say, lies in his hands, though he’s also skilled with the broadsword. Don’t be fooled by his name sounding like a woman’s — in fact he’s tall and imposingly built, his martial arts combining both hardness and suppleness. To have such a reputation in this region, he probably isn’t much inferior even to Instructor Luan.”
Zhu Hu continued sharing what he knew of the Anping situation: “As for Lu Wenhu, they say he’s skilled in all eighteen forms of martial arts, and handles every kind of weapon with formidable skill. Back when he traveled Shandong seeking out challengers, he built up quite a name for himself — not few have died at his hands, but not few also admire him. He and Chen Jinxia have their reputation and skill going for them in this region, and they’ve never fallen out of favor with the authorities either. Their coming out this time is probably meant to seize the opportunity presented by Liangshan’s fall to make a name for themselves in some way. Honestly, that senior Lu — Lu Hongti — being able to repeatedly escape their combined encirclement is already quite remarkable.”
“And Monk Tunyun in this region counts as downright notorious. This man is skilled and vicious in his methods, and has made countless enemies across Shandong. Aside from the lives he’s taken, he also frequently violates women’s chastity — many daughters of wealthy merchants and officials in Daming Prefecture, once he’s taken a liking to them, have been abducted and violated. Countless arrest warrants have been issued, but he’s killed no fewer than twenty constables sent after him alone. Having done such evil for so many years and still not been caught, few dare provoke him anymore…”
Ning Yi nodded. “Since these people have come out, all sorts of other outlaws from the rivers and lakes have gathered here too…”
Zhu Hu said, “That ‘Swift Sword’ Lin Qi has no shortage of disciples, and knows plenty of people in the area too — outlaws from places like Qiyun Fort, Wuhua Fort, and around Anping, the Iron Tablet Pavilion and Fire Fist Gang, they’re probably all here joining in the excitement. Oh, and Iron Tablet Pavilion has a chief there called Yao Wuliu, who practices the Iron Thread Fist — his skills under his hands are formidable; in the rivers and lakes he’s called ‘Master Five Willows.’ In the Anping area, his is the largest power. To kill someone in Anping is essentially to disrespect him — with him joining in, that’s another big headache.”
Ning Yi listened as he finished his bowl of mixed-grain porridge, resting his forehead in his hand as he thought. “Well, we’ll deal with the soldiers as they come and block the water as it rises — no matter what, she absolutely must be alright…”
“Should we send someone back to notify the others — and the generals of Wurui Camp?” Qi Xinhan asked.
“Either way’s fine.” Ning Yi nodded, then glanced out at the heavy rain. “But no matter what, I don’t want to wait any longer. If the rain doesn’t ease up a bit more this morning, we’ll ride ahead on horseback — we should be able to reach Anping by evening. Let’s just treat it as a trip through the rivers and lakes, taking things as they come — what do you say?”
Hearing him ask this, the others laughed. In truth, among this group, if anyone had the least experience in the rivers and lakes, it would probably be Ning Yi himself. Everyone’s worries naturally had their reasons, but as for taking risks, none of them would say no. Zhu Biao spoke up carelessly: “Brother Ning, don’t worry, this Zhu Biao isn’t afraid of those people. And with everyone else here, we’ll definitely keep you safe. Not to mention it’s not even certain there’ll be a fight — even if there is, we’re not afraid of that mob.”
Ning Yi smiled and cupped his hands. “Then I’m afraid I’ve dragged everyone into danger on my account.”
And so, after a while longer, the rain showed no sign of easing, but the sky had already brightened considerably. The group donned their rain capes, mounted their horses, and set off toward Anping. By noon, they crossed a river along the official road that was rising with the rain, then turned onto a side path, entering the rugged mountain range leading toward Anping.
The mountains stretched vast and winding, sprawling endlessly through the heavy rain. Anping County lay within the mountains, a poor, small county town; unlike some of the relatively prosperous counties within Jizhou’s borders, it had never received much attention, having always occupied a position that no one bothered to manage — only now, due to the gathering of outlaws and bandit gangs, did it show a bit of lively bustle. Beyond the county town, the mountains grew ever more desolate; in the dim light, half of a collapsed earthen-brick building halfway up the mountainside had a hand quietly reaching out from within, feeling the falling raindrops.
This too had once been a somewhat old small house, mostly built of packed earth; with no one to maintain it, half had collapsed, and the other half wasn’t much larger either. Rainwater poured in from one end and flowed out through a gap on the other side. In the dim, small space within the ruined house, Lu Hongti sat curled up, clutching an ancient sword and a bundle, sitting atop a pile of odds and ends — though in truth, what little debris and dirt there was had already been soaked damp by the flowing water. Water dripped from the roof, falling onto the cloak over her head, then dripping off the edge of the cloak…
She sighed. Even a martial arts master could not withstand the might of heaven and earth at such a time. Hunger stirring in her belly, she took out the last half of a hardened flatbread from her robes and took a bite — it didn’t taste particularly good.
Her gaze passed through the curtain of rain, falling on the trees not far off. She thought for a moment, tightened her straw rain cape, and, wearing her hood, trotted out to the trees, picked a few leaves, broke the remaining half of the hard bread in two, and, sandwiching it with the leaves, took a bite.
It tasted a little better this way. These past few days, caught up in fleeing and killing, she’d forgotten to grab any food along the way. It was also because she’d never had much interest in the quality of her food to begin with — but who could have known she’d run into this heavy rain, making it inconvenient even to move about. The rain cape could block most of the raindrops, but water always found a way in — being outdoors like this was really not a comfortable experience at all. Just as she finished the half bread in her hand, her gaze suddenly sharpened — not far ahead, two men, likewise wearing rain capes and carrying weapons, had stopped there, staring at her, and then, almost reflexively, drew their blades.
With a crack, that figure cut through the rain curtain, breaking through the spray of water, her footwork like blossoming lotus flowers suddenly bursting open. In the air, a booming punch sent a figure flying, water splashing everywhere; the other man was sent flying into a tree trunk, shaking loose a curtain of water and light. Only, after her two strikes, the woman’s figure hurried back the other way — that last charge had been too fast, too forceful, and her hat and rain cape had fallen off behind her. The heavy rain poured directly onto her body; she ran two steps, then hurried back, stripped the hat and cloak off the dead men’s bodies to put on herself. By this point she was already quite bedraggled from the rain. She then searched the two corpses and found some copper coins and bits of silver, but no food. She stood there and sighed.
When she turned back, that half-collapsed ruin of a mud house had also crumbled in the heavy rain.
“Heavens above…” Hongti muttered dejectedly, her gaze drifting toward the mountainside below, toward the distant county town. In her eyes there was something soft and weak, yet also a resolve that could not be shaken. She tightened the small bundle bound to her chest, straightened her rain cape again, and, arms crossed, walked off into the forest and mountains to find a new place to shelter from the rain. In truth, the rain didn’t bother her much — she remembered many days just as wretched as this, and even worse ones she had already grown used to. However high one’s martial skill, when hungry, when alone, one could still cry — though things were already much better than before now.
And she also remembered a rainy day like this, spent with that man in that run-down mountain temple. That temple had been a little bigger than this earthen hut, and hadn’t collapsed; they had cooked with a broken pot in that temple. To him, perhaps, those had been rather simple, humble days — but to her, those days had been among the few times she’d felt truly at ease. No burden of the mountain stronghold, revenge already taken, no going hungry, and… she could listen to stories.
The men down below had already been terrified by her, but the newcomers were still riding high on arrogance — she had to kill through them once more, thoroughly breaking their edge; only then would the name she left behind be enough… to protect her safety in the days ahead.
So she thought, walking through the rain, her gaze settling into calm.
And even as she thought this, Ning Yi’s group of twenty, leading their horses, was carefully making its way past a rugged bend in the distant mountains. By that night, when the heavy rain had finally eased somewhat, the group at last reached Anping, entering the largest inn in the county town.
This rapid journey had, for Ning Yi, also been something of a gamble — but if Lu Hongti was indeed wounded, this was a risk he had no choice but to take. He had previously thought of proceeding cautiously, taking things as they came once he arrived. Only this time, not long after entering Anping County, events would already begin to shift, all because of his arrival…