Among all the streets and lanes of Nanquan Lane, Jiming Lane lay in a quiet, out-of-the-way spot, and it was rather desolate. Most runners really didn't care to patrol it. Especially at night — walk the lane and two men together could only feel an eerie chill gusting at their backs, enough to make the skin crawl.
If two of them felt that way, then there was Chen Ping'an, walking it all alone.
Still, his qi and blood had reached the third layer now; his qi and blood were brimming, his courage stout. A little darkness and a few tales of the uncanny were nothing to him at all.
That was the confidence the martial path had given him!
A saber at his waist, a sounding gong slung over his shoulder, a lantern in his hand, Chen Ping'an walked Jiming Lane.
Normally two runners were supposed to watch each other's back, one carrying the lantern, the other the gong. If anything unusual turned up, the two of them would strike at once. And if the business proved too troublesome, if it seemed beyond them, they could beat the gong as a warning and a call for help.
An ordinary sneak-thief, hearing a sounding gong in the dead of night, would likely lose all his nerve — let alone think of resisting.
Walking Jiming Lane, Chen Ping'an was in good spirits. He'd had a proper sleep during the day, and before coming on duty he'd even gotten in some practice with his Flying Locust Stones.
The experience for Flying Locust Stones on his status panel had climbed to twelve points. That sense of slowly growing stronger, point by point, bit by bit — it truly felt good.
The houses along both sides of Jiming Lane weren't joined in a continuous row; they stood scattered and thin. Walk a while and you'd pass a small patch of waste ground. By the tale widely told around the Nanquan Lane Suppression Office, Jiming Lane had been, in the very beginning, the clan graveyard of some great family. Only after the family declined did it slowly turn into the Jiming Lane of today.
Of course, all that was far too long ago; it was only a rumor.
The moonlight tonight was somewhat dim, but by the candlelight inside his lantern Chen Ping'an could still make out the road. Insects chirped now and then around him — who knew where they hid during the day.
Chen Ping'an patrolled, bright-eyed and full of vigor, until midnight. He was just thinking of finding a spot to rest when his steps suddenly stopped.
"What's that sound?"
His ear twitched slightly; it seemed he had heard something.
He counted as a decent martial hand these days — sharp of ear and clear of eye — so he could catch sounds most people couldn't. His gaze turned wary, and he looked toward where the sound had come from.
In the distance there was only darkness; nothing could be made out.
"Go take a look!"
Lantern in hand, Chen Ping'an headed toward the sound.
...
In the deep of night, if you looked down on Weishui Commandery City from some high place, you could see the sharp divide between the inner and outer city very clearly. The two were separated by a riverbank, and even deep at night, many parts of the inner city were still brightly lit. But the outer city lay in darkness and silence, with scarcely a lamp to be seen.
A corner of Nanquan Lane in the outer city.
Right then a battle of extraordinary ferocity was breaking out there. Four figures crossed and struck at each other in the dim, fitful moonlight.
Of them, three moved with practiced coordination, together besieging the fourth.
"Merely an idle move on this one Wu's part, and who'd have thought it would hook such a big fish."
Under the moonlight, a gray-clad figure, stooped and hunched, was letting out peal after peal of strange laughter. As his figure shifted, now and then the dim moonlight caught his face, covered in scars.
Grand deacon of the Ten Thousand Demons Cult — Wu Haihua!
To either side of him stood two more figures, one fat, one lean, working with his attacks to press the woman before them.
The woman wore a black-patterned fish-scale uniform, showing a cold, lovely face. In her hand was a long sword, and she spun out blossom after dazzling blossom of sword-light, sword qi surging as her strokes shifted.
"If tomorrow the Suppression Office learns that their South City District grand office chief fell here — well, what sort of reaction do you suppose there'll be!? This one Wu is truly curious!"
Wu Haihua wielded a pair of short spikes, whirling them madly, trying to break open the woman's defense. Each time the spikes lashed out, force sprayed from them.
Wu Haihua was in fine spirits. He'd only meant to come hook some small fish; even that would have counted as a success. He never expected to land a big one — to hook the grand office chief of the South City District, Mu Wanjun!
Mu Wanjun, legitimate daughter of the Mu family! Young as she was, she had already broken into the inner qi realm and taken the grand office chief's seal of the South City District Suppression Office. If he could kill her, the rewards from the cult would be no small thing.
At the thought, Wu Haihua couldn't help licking his lips, his face lighting with a bloodthirsty gleam.
Mu Wanjun's natural talent was good enough, but she was young in the end, and had walked into their trap so easily. His own martial cultivation was a notch above hers, and with the help of two first-rank deacons, that was more than enough to bring her down.
Mu Wanjun swung her long sword, her Autumn Water Swordplay executed with flawless mastery. But as she went on blocking, she gradually began to feel the pressure.
Whoosh!
A moment's lapse, and several new cuts appeared in her black-patterned fish-scale uniform. Fortunately her inner qi burst out in time, and she barely managed to beat the attack back.
Mu Wanjun's mood sank.
At night she had spotted a black figure, bearing the mark of the Ten Thousand Demons Cult. For the cult to be moving about in the commandery city, there had to be a plot behind it. She had meant to follow the figure and root out the stronghold behind it. But she never thought that tracking it all the way here would walk her straight into their trap.
Confidence in her own strength, and the wish to avoid alerting the enemy, had meant she told no one what she was doing.
She'd thought it a sure thing — a hunt and a slaughter. Who'd have guessed she'd end up running into the cult's grand deacon, Wu Haihua.
Wu Haihua, qi sea realm perfected, a steady notch above her. And with two first-rank deacons, qi and blood perfected, helping him besides.
Today, this was going to be trouble indeed!
Whoosh!
Wu Haihua's form blurred into an afterimage, and the two short spikes spat and swayed out more than a foot of light — he had erupted all at once, meaning to put Mu Wanjun to death.
He'd thought the blow would land for certain, but Mu Wanjun's sword shadows shifted, and she unleashed an exquisite stroke.
Clang!
The short spikes were blocked dead.
Though she caught his move, Mu Wanjun's attention had been split, and one of the first-rank deacons seized the opening to leave a wound on her.
Mu Wanjun grunted and hurled herself backward.
From the beginning until now, the fighting had been relentless, draining her mind and her inner qi alike. If this went on, she was likely in real danger.
"Where are the Suppression Office people? There's this much noise going on and nobody's noticed?"
Mu Wanjun's expression was ugly.
This should be the Nanquan Lane area — what was that Shen Shikang doing about it! How did he manage his people from day to day!
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Under the moonlight several figures shifted and blurred, sword-light dazzling, short spikes flying, inner qi spraying.
A few more tears opened in Mu Wanjun's fish-scale uniform.
"If this keeps up, sooner or later they'll keep me here! Once my inner qi runs out, I won't have a shred of a chance!"
A fierce look flashed across Mu Wanjun's face.
"I'll have to use that move."
Chapter 53