Sha Lifei

"Dead?" Hearing the news, Li Yan was momentarily dumbfounded. "Dead, of course," Li Gui cursed. "That dog Yuan Xizhong was older than me, and he was covered in wounds from putting down the rebellion on the frontier. Ten years ago, word came that the old dog was bedridden, suffering for three whole years before kicking the bucket. By the time he died, he was nothing but skin and bones. His sons didn't amount to anything either—they committed a capital crime and had their entire household executed. Serves them right!" *Is that so...* Li Yan scratched his head, feeling rather awkward. It felt like gearing up to hack down a foe, only to find they had already been run over and killed by a cart. Li Yan couldn't help asking further, "Back then, what actually happened?" Grandfather Li Gui puffed on his pipe, remaining silent for a long while before finally speaking: "Ah, well. It's been so long, and this old man doesn't want to carry it all the way to King Yanluo. Back then, we had already marched into the land of white mountains and black waters. Apart from eliminating the northern frontier rebel general Guo Mao, the barbarian tribes he stirred into rebellion to invade south with him were also battered to pieces. Because the previous dynasty, Daxing, had stood in standoff with the Golden Horde Khanate from south to north, there were still many Han villages along the northern frontier. Who knew what kind of madness gripped Yuan Xizhong, but he burned every single village along our path, refusing to spare even the Han elderly, weak, sick, and crippled... "A few old comrades and I merely raised objections, yet he had us flogged ten lashes in public and mocked us with biting words... "If it had only been that, so be it. War brings brutal slaughter, and innocent victims were hardly few. But when a branch of the Jurchen royal clan fled, he turned a blind eye, as if he were stone blind... "Afterward, we reported the matter to Brigade General Zhang, but we were barred outside the encampment. Yuan Xizhong sabotaged things from behind the scenes; he climbed straight up the ranks, while we could only take off our armor and return to our fields. "Sigh. The court is dark, the jianghu treacherous. What's so bad about living out one's days peacefully as a simple farmer..." *So that was how it went.* Li Yan pondered thoughtfully, sensing that something wasn't quite right. According to his grandfather, Yuan Xizhong had been merely a subordinate general during the pacification of the northern frontier. His promotions and wealth came only later. The imperial commemorative plaque, the occultist's meddling, the precious Three Powers Demon-Suppressing Coins... None of these were things Yuan Xizhong could have managed. Someone else was likely behind the curse. What kind of enmity could warrant paying such an enormous price? "Grandfather, what about those old comrades of yours?" "In the first few years after returning home, we still exchanged letters occasionally. But later on, we lost touch. I fear some grew old, some died, and hardly anyone is left..." Saying this, the old man couldn't help a sigh. Gazing into the distance, puffing on his long pipe, he seemed lost in memory once more. Li Yan asked no further. He was already certain there was more hidden beneath the surface. Naturally, he had no intention of telling his grandfather. The old man was advanced in age and in poor health. It hadn't been easy to dispel the curse and put the past behind him. If he learned that his son's death was someone's sabotage, and moreover tied back to himself, it would likely cause trouble. To put it bluntly, this world had monsters and ghosts. If the old man died clinging to a breath of bitter grievance and found no peace after death, that would be Li Yan's sin. Vengeance and grievances like this were for the younger generation to settle! Changing the topic casually, Li Yan returned to the house, whipped up two quick dishes, and sat down over steamed buns to share a drink with his grandfather. Outwardly indifferent, he had already made up his mind. The culprit who cast the curse would show themselves sooner or later, and when that time came, he would repay it twofold. For now, the most urgent matter was stepping into Xuanmen. According to Big Tooth Du, Sha Lifei knew people like that. Still, he was in no hurry to seek Sha Lifei out. The reason was simple: with the summer harvest fast approaching, that fellow was sure to come knocking... ... Speaking of which, the Li family shared some history with Sha Lifei. Sha Lifei's real name was Sha Guangsheng. As the old saying went, walking the jianghu was about two things: profit and reputation—making a name for oneself. Yet reputation was mostly bestowed by others. For example, Li Yan's father, Li Hu, had earned the moniker "Sick Tiger," meaning he seemed unremarkable normally, but once roused, he was like a fierce tiger descending the mountain, ferocious and overbearing. Sha Lifei's moniker, however, was self-invented. It sounded grand, but those who knew the trade treated it as a joke. Yet he was exceptionally slick, an expert at trimming his sails to the wind, sizing up people before acting, and intimately familiar with jianghu customs, so he never suffered major losses. Gradually, "Sha Lifei" truly became his name, to the point where many forgot what he had originally been called... Being a blade-man wasn't about hacking people day in and day out. Walking the jianghu, making a name and earning a living were both crucial. Deals where one tied their head to their waistband might pay well, but they didn't come every day; after all, these weren't turbulent times. Moreover, only those with loud reputations were hired. Prominent blade-men who held sway over a territory had patrons supporting them. Yet young fledglings just starting out, or old blade-men who never made it, had to figure out a way; they couldn't just starve to death. Their paths usually split three ways: First, follow famous blade-men to guard escort caravans, keep order at gang dens, or smuggle illicit salt. Second, turn outlaw in the greenwood. Several renowned greenwood chieftains along the Guanzhong route had once been blade-men who either refused to earn grueling wages or loathed serving under someone else, preferring to take their meals with the blades in their hands. Third, act as lone wanderers, taking whatever work came their way before making a name. For instance, during his youth, every summer harvest season, Li Yan's father would organize wheat reapers from neighboring villages to go out for work. This too was an old rule. Almost every gang of wheat reapers had a blade-man as a leader. Not only could they secure lucrative jobs, but they also didn't have to fear landlords reneging on pay. Naturally, the leader took a cut. In plain terms, it was somewhat like a labor contractor. Even after making a name for himself, Li Yan's father, Li Hu, continued doing this work. In his own words, he didn't care about a few scraps of coin; it was mainly to protect his fellow villagers, earn goodwill, and keep wagging tongues at bay. Later on, he merely helped arrange the jobs without taking a single copper. After his father's death, the wheat reapers of the surrounding villages were left without a leader. That was when Sha Lifei came knocking. Beyond his family martial arts, his father had once learned saber techniques from an accomplished veteran blade-man, and Sha Lifei had been one of the disciples at the time, giving them fellow-disciple ties. Only later did their paths diverge. His father made a name of some renown. Sha Lifei, meanwhile, continued drifting through the various villages of Guanzhong, scraping together coin from ordinary folk on the back of his slight reputation, never daring to step near Chang'an City. Leading wheat reapers was a decent piece of meat, and naturally he wasn't about to pass it up. As for his yearly visits, that was jianghu etiquette. Arriving in a new area meant paying respects to the local head, acknowledging that one made a living on another's turf. Furthermore, having taken over benefits left by a fellow disciple, he had to offer a token of respect each year. Given Sha Lifei's slick nature, how could he leave an opening for others to criticize him? Of course, each visit was merely a matter of swinging by with some pastry casually strung together, just to get it over with. Counting the days, he should be arriving soon... ... The next day, a solitary rider came kicking up a trail of dust along the official road. The horse was a yellow-maned steed, looking old but knowing the way. Astride it sat a burly fellow clad in gray cloth clothes and black trousers. He was tall and broad, twin blades slung at his waist, his face meaty and covered with a thick beard, looking rather fierce and martial. Most eye-catching of all was his bald head—slick, shiny, and gleaming under the sun. "It's Sha Lifei!" "Sha Lifei is here!" A few urchins at the entrance of Fort Li began whooping and shouting the moment they spotted him. Whatever else might be said of him, Sha Lifei looked the part. At least in the eyes of these children, he was the spitting image of a swaggering jianghu hero, and they cheered until their faces flushed red. To them, this was what a real jianghu gallant was supposed to look like. Li Yan from the village was also a blade-man, yet he was handsomer than the refined young masters or pretty boys in opera plays, as well as sharp and difficult to deal with—hardly like a proper gallant at all. "Hahaha..." Hearing the children's cheers, Sha Lifei felt thoroughly pleased and let out a hearty laugh. He yanked the reins; the yellow-maned steed neighed, reared up on its hind legs, and then charged into the village with a whoosh, drawing continuous applause from the kids. As horse hooves trod across the yellow dirt, two copper coins clattered to the ground. A hearty voice lingered in the air: "Here, boys! Take them and buy some sweets!" After entering the village, Sha Lifei rode around in a circle first, clanging the bronze gong in his hand. "Listen up! Anyone who wants to make money, bring your gear and come with me tomorrow morning!" The wheat reaper's travel trio: a sickle, a whetstone, and a bedroll. Labor was in short supply this year, and employers were willing to offer good wages. Word had long since spread, so anyone wanting to earn silver had already prepped their tools and dry rations. They would head toward Xianyang and Xingping. As long as they worked swiftly, they could finish the jobs there and return just in time for their own village's wheat harvest. Hearing Sha Lifei's shout, many folk came out to inquire. "Hero Sha, how much will they pay this year?" "Hero Sha, have you already negotiated terms?" Though the repeated calls of "Hero" felt delightful, Sha Lifei kept a stern face, rubbed his bald head, and scolded, "Why ask so many questions? You think you'll starve if you follow me, Sha Lifei?" With that, he dismounted and casually tossed the reins aside. "Shuanzhu, feed my horse well." Giving the order, he retrieved an oiled-paper parcel of pastries from the saddle, hummed a little tune, and strolled toward Li Yan's house. Just as he reached the gate, he ran into old Li Gui heading out to play chess. Sha Lifei laughed heartily and cupped his hands. "Old Uncle Li is looking in fine health! I've come to see you. Here are sweet osmanthus cakes from Xiangyuan Pavilion in Chang'an City—fine stuff!" "Enough of that. Don't bother coming next year!" Li Gui snorted, leaning on his cane as he walked right past him. The old man had no regard for Sha Lifei—far too slippery, full of lies. Osmanthus cakes from Xiangyuan Pavilion, my foot... If Sha Lifei ever got his hands on something that good, he'd stuff his own belly first before ever parting with it. This was obviously bought haphazardly in Lantian County just to go through the motions. Most importantly, the fellow came calling only to tick a box. All just to puff up his own name, making a ruckus every single time. Sha Lifei was thick-skinned. Seeing the old man's attitude, he didn't care in the slightest. Laughing heartily, he carried the parcel through the door. Li Yan was currently practicing martial arts. He executed a Tiger Claws the Wall, twisted his body, raised his left elbow, and followed up with Flower Hidden Beneath the Leaves. "Good!" Sha Lifei called out in praise, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes. He practiced Red Fist too, and after drifting through the jianghu for years, he had an eye for martial skill. Though the Red Fist proverbs said, "The hands are two door leaves, but it takes legs to beat a foe," and "Thirty percent hand strikes, seventy percent kicks," the hand techniques were nonetheless crucial. Hence, "With Prop Hands and Cloud Hands aligned, no foe under heaven can match your design." This son of Sick Tiger Li was young, yet he had already grasped the true essence. With every gesture and movement, the wind of his fists roared and his tendons and bones cracked—he had already reached the peak of clear jin. In the future, he might turn out even fiercer than his father! Sha Lifei was already feeling a twinge of regret, silently calculating that when he visited next year, he had better bring pastries that could pass muster. If he kept muddling through, it might invite trouble down the line. Thinking of this, he rubbed his bald head and laughed. "Brother Yan, go on with your practice. I've got other business, so I won't disturb you." With that, he set the parcel down and turned to leave. Only then did Li Yan speak with a smile: "Uncle Sha, don't leave in such a hurry. There's something I'd like to ask you."