"Do you know the rules?"
The dead-fish-eyed man spoke in a chillingly sarcastic drawl. Not only did Li Yan and Sha Lifei bristle, but even Wang Daoxuan's gaze turned slightly cold.
"Rules? Why, of course we know the rules!"
Sha Lifei gave a dry chuckle, stood up, and rubbed his big shaved head. "Setting aside the rules of the ring for a moment, introducing yourself before talking to someone is a rule of the Jianghu..."
"It's a basic rule of being human!"
"You don't even know the rules of basic decency, so what nonsense are you babbling here?"
Sha Lifei's martial arts skills were mediocre at best; he had traversed the Jianghu relying entirely on his sharp tongue, having never once lost a verbal spat. How could he possibly let someone barge in and step on his toes without snapping back?
To their surprise, the dead-fish-eyed man showed no anger upon hearing this. He merely shifted his attention onto Sha Lifei, saying in a lukewarm tone, "The rules of decency, I happen to know a bit. In everything, one must maintain three measures of restraint."
"Wear three measures of a smile, yield three measures of reason, drink three measures of wine. Before anything has even happened, you flip the table and challenge people to a life-and-death match. Do you truly think your fists are so hard?"
"Whether they're hard or not, you'll only know once you test them!"
"I'm only afraid they'll go soft before you even try!"
Trading barb for barb, the two proved evenly matched.
What was more, the atmosphere grew strangely tense.
Sha Lifei glared with wide eyes,
while the dead-fish-eyed man wore a grim, stern face.
Sizing each other up, it was as if two generals had met worthy adversaries before battle.
Li Yan rubbed his brows and spoke up: "What exactly do you want, sir?"
He had an odd feeling that if he let these two keep arguing, the entire morning would be wasted.
Clearly disappointed at having his bickering cut short, the dead-fish-eyed man nonetheless introduced himself, offering a casual cupped-fist salute. "Zhang Martial Arts School, Zhang Shitong. I am also a roving scout for the Xianyang Divine Fist Association."
Li Yan narrowed his eyes. "Were you sent by Zhou Pan?"
Li Yan naturally understood the rules of a life-and-death match.
First, a formal challenge post had to be delivered. Since Li Yan had been the one to issue the challenge, it fell to him to send it.
Second, witnesses had to be invited. Whether representatives from the yamen or venerable Jianghu seniors, people had to be present to witness the signing of the life-and-death contract. That way, beating an opponent to death would not incur a lawsuit.
Third were the rules of the ring itself.
Once he sent the challenge, the other side had to accept it; refusing meant conceding cowardice.
Yet once accepted, the respondent set the conditions. During the match, whether it was fought in an open ring, on plum blossom poles, or contested with bare fists or bladed weapons, none of that was up to Li Yan.
If he dared not accept those terms, he would have no choice but to admit defeat and leave Xianyang.
This was called give and take, back and forth.
As for "roving scout," it was a position within the Divine Fist Association.
The Divine Fist Associations across various regions were mostly formed by local martial arts schools. Within the Jianghu, they belonged to the guazi trade—some hired by officials and gentry as courtyard guards, others running armed escort agencies, keeping relatively close ties with the imperial court.
At times, they also assisted the authorities in settling Jianghu disputes and quelling banditry. Consequently, they maintained ties with local village militias as well, frequently dispatching men to instruct them in sabers, spears, and quarterstaves.
A roving scout was someone tasked with traveling between regions to gather intelligence.
Li Yan had originally planned to deliver the challenge post today. Why had the other side sent someone first?
"Heh."
The dead-fish-eyed man gave a cold chuckle. "The Divine Fist Association isn't run solely by that man named Zhou. My father is the vice president; Zhou doesn't have the authority to boss us around."
Li Yan asked, puzzled, "Then what does this have to do with you?"
"Originally, nothing," Zhang Shitong said, his gaze turning grave. "Zhou's two disciples have run amok in Xianyang City, bringing shame upon the entire Divine Fist Association. We couldn't bear to watch it, yet our hands were tied."
"If you had simply slaughtered them outright, we'd have secretly hailed you as a hero."
"But since you're staging this match under the name of Li Hu's son, this matter concerns our school."
"My father... wishes to invite you over to trade a few moves!"
...
The Zhang Martial Arts School was situated in the northeastern quarter near the Medicine King Temple.
This was Xianyang's old city district. Unlike in his previous life, it remained fairly well preserved; there was even a stretch of crumbling wall from the ancient Qin capital that had been reinforced to separate two alleyways.
The martial arts school occupied a sizable compound of considerable age, its perimeter wall likewise built from ancient Qin bricks. Paired with a faded signboard, it projected an air of weathered antiquity.
Even more striking was the pair of stone lions flanking the entrance.
Before Li Yan even drew near, a strange gleam flickered in his eyes.
Stone lions as warding talismans originated during the Han dynasty.
Back then, rulers of Parthia and the Da Yuezhi from the Western Regions offered lions as tribute. Later, as Buddhism and Daoism spread, they were endowed with divine power, and warding stone lions became widely used to guard residences.
This pair of stone lions bore an archaic shape. Though worn smooth in many places, an overbearing, ferocious aura still struck the senses—a style quintessential of the Han era, by no means ordinary objects.
Sure enough, upon activating his olfactory divine ability, Li Yan immediately caught a scent. Mingled with the incense smoke was a majestic weight, clearly a convergence of gang qi that had already formed a minor "configuration."
It could be considered a treasure for guarding a household, far superior to the plaque in his own family's ancestral home.
With such things standing guard, likely no sinister entity would dare trespass.
Zhang Shitong was sharp-eyed. Noticing Li Yan's expression, he scoffed, "These are ancestral treasures handed down through our school. Even my father has to address them as 'Grandmasters.'"
"I heard you entered Xuanmen?"
"A word of advice before it's too late: though Xuanmen stands at the head of the Jianghu, it has its own rules. What's more, Zhou Pan's household possesses an even stronger warding object, so don't try any cheap tricks."
"Otherwise, the ones coming after you won't be from the martial arts circles..."
"I know that," Li Yan replied calmly. The Great Xuan Dynasty wielded formidable authority; whether Xuanmen or the Jianghu, all had to abide by its laws. If one committed murder out in the open, whether a Jianghu bladesman or an occult practitioner, one would become a wanted fugitive.
Of course, what happened in the shadows was another matter entirely.
Before they even reached the school gates, rhythmic shouts drifted from within—evidently disciples practicing their fist techniques.
Arriving at the entrance, Zhang Shitong first bowed respectfully to both stone lions, greeting them with "Greetings, Grandmasters," before ushering Li Yan inside.
Hearing this, Li Yan felt a stir of awe.
*Well now, an insider must have coached them on this.*
Over the long years, if these stone lions ever developed a spirit, they would become guardian deities of the Zhang Martial Arts School, much like the methods employed by famous mountains and great sects.
Past the gates lay two enormous martial practice grounds.
One was paved with packed yellow earth, weapon racks bearing sabers, spears, quarterstaves, and cudgels.
The other was erected with plum blossom poles, stone locks, stone balls, and other training gear.
Autumn had already arrived. After a few bouts of autumn rain, the weather had turned cold, yet the disciples on the training grounds wore only short tunics. Each had bulging muscles, their punches swift and forceful, steam rising from their brows.
*Xinyi Liuhe Fist?*
Li Yan recognized the martial art at a single glance.
This fist art took as its principle "what stirs from the heart is intent; where intent directs, the fist follows," transforming spearplay into unarmed strikes and hitting in six harmonies, hence the name Xinyi Liuhe Fist.
In Guanzhong, though Red Fist was the mainstream, Xinyi Liuhe Fist was also widely practiced, so finding a school dedicated to teaching it was hardly unusual.
The main hall of the martial arts school was quite spacious as well. An ancestral portrait of the Zhang family hung enshrined on the back wall, with two grand armchairs beneath it. Along both flanks of the hall stood rows of chairs, and several grand, sweeping landscape paintings adorned the walls.
Seated in one of the grand armchairs was an elderly man. Not tall, clad in a blue cloth coat, he possessed a prominent continuous brow ridge, graying hair, and the exact same pair of dead-fish eyes.
"Greetings, Senior Zhang." Li Yan cupped his fists in salute.
Though unruly and unrestrained, he was not ignorant of etiquette.
This old man was Zhang Yuanshang. Not only was he vice president of the Xianyang Divine Fist Association, but he also ran this martial arts school and held ties to several armed escort agencies, making him a venerable elder in the local martial world.
Old Man Zhang was puffing on a water pipe. When he saw Li Yan enter, he merely flicked his gaze up slightly. At that signal, several disciples in the hall withdrew immediately, pulling the doors shut behind them.
With a series of heavy clunks, the doors sealed shut, and the light inside the hall dimmed at once.
In the entire hall, only the Zhang father and son and Li Yan remained.
Zhang Yuanshang fixed his dead-fish eyes upon Li Yan, a chilling glint flickering within them, and rasped, "Li Hu couldn't keep it in his pants, but he was a majestic, heroic man of towering presence. How did he end up siring such a pretty boy?"
Though short of stature, the old man exuded an astonishing presence.
His icy gaze felt like a blade pressed against the center of Li Yan's forehead.
Li Yan's expression did not waver. Glancing sideways at Zhang Shitong, who stood nearby, he shook his head. "Senior is truly formidable. Like father, like son."
The Zhang family was at odds with Zhou Pan, so inviting him here was certainly not to fight him.
The old man was merely trying to assert dominance to test his mettle.
Yet this foul mouth was an exact carbon copy of his son's.
"Foolish whelp, you've got some backbone after all."
Old Man Zhang took no offense. Leaning back, he sighed and said, "If you had come to me first, things wouldn't have reached this point."
"Drop this life-and-death match and leave Xianyang. At least that way, you can keep your miserable life!"
Li Yan was amused. "Does my fighting in the ring have anything to do with you, Senior?"
Old Man Zhang said, "Your life and death are none of my concern. But you are Li Hu's son, and fighting a life-and-death match in Xianyang City makes it my concern!"
With that, he looked toward the window and said calmly, "This Jianghu is simple, yet not simple; complex, yet not complex."
"What makes it simple is that whoever has the bigger fists stands the tallest!"
"What makes it complex is that rules govern inside and out, and worldly favors and connections are everywhere."
"Ten years ago, a few old companions and I thought highly of your father. Knowing Zhou Pan's vile character, we didn't want him taking the seat of president of the Xianyang Divine Fist Association. So we pulled strings everywhere and plotted, spending no small effort."
"Just when success was within reach, your father died in Chang'an—in a brothel, no less—allowing that Zhou Pan to easily take power, while the rest of us were mocked alongside him."
"Those other old companions yielded, but this old man never did. Yet if you carry the name of Li Hu's son only to be beaten to death here in Xianyang, that old monkey will have all the leverage to crow, and this old man won't have the face to show himself outdoors."
"Do you... understand this logic?"
"I understand!"
Li Yan nodded calmly. "It simply comes down to weighing me on the scale. Once my weight is measured and found lacking, certain words will be hard to defend."
"Good that you understand."
Zhang Yuanshang nodded slightly and lifted his water pipe again to light it. "No matter what you're scheming, once you declared a life-and-death match, it ceased to be about that scoundrel Meng Haichen. Win or lose, his life is forfeit."
"Zhou Pan has already attained transformative jin, and he cares immensely about saving face. Far from making a move himself, he likely won't even show his face..."
"Among his prominent disciples are the Eight Great Vajras, all of whom have attained hidden jin. The chiefs of the Iron Saber and White Ape Gangs are among them. Any one of them could easily beat you to death..."
"However, Zhou Pan won't have them step up either. You are too young, while they are disciples of different surnames who made names for themselves long ago; even if they won, it wouldn't count as a victory."
"If this old man's guess is correct, the one who takes the stage will be Zhou Bai. He is the most outstanding disciple of the Zhou family's current generation—barely seventeen or eighteen, yet he stepped into hidden jin last year. What's more, he's a martial fanatic who spars everywhere and possesses rich combat experience."
"When the tiger is away from the mountain, the monkey proclaims himself king. Only if Zhou Bai beats you to death will that old monkey finally swallow that grievance and breathe easy."
"Well then... do you still have the guts to step onto that stage?"
Li Yan raised an eyebrow and remarked flatly, "I reckon that old monkey will just have to keep that breath choked down!"
"Good, at least your mouth is tough enough!"
Zhang Yuanshang clapped his hands and nodded.
"Shitong, test his weight."
"If it's just his mouth that's tough, break his legs and throw him out of Xianyang!"
Chapter 39