At Juxian Manor, after the great battle the courtyard was a shambles, and many of the jianghu folk had been clipped by flying rubble and suffered minor wounds.
Once everyone had seen to their injuries, Qin Zheng stepped out in front of the crowd and announced, full of vigor, "Now that Murong Bo isn't here stirring things up, we can get on with the Heroes' Assembly!"
The crowd was blank with bewilderment.
Will you listen to what you're saying? We came here to hold a meeting so we could campaign against Xuanci and Murong Bo, didn't we? Now that Murong Bo's run off, what meeting are we supposed to hold?
Expressions turned complicated, and without a word passing between them the crowd turned their eyes to the men who had called this Heroes' Assembly — Xue Muhua and the You brothers — hoping they would step forward and explain.
By now Xue Muhua was already drenched in sweat.
Originally he had wanted to use the Heroes' Assembly as a pretext to steer these people against Old Freak of Xingxiu. As for Murong Bo, in his view, that was a matter that could be taken care of along the way.
But he had never dreamed Murong Bo's martial arts were so formidable. If Qin Zheng hadn't shown up today, all of them here together probably wouldn't have been a match for Murong Bo...
And if you added the other target of the campaign, Xuanci, then even if every last disciple of the Xiaoyao Sect were thrown into the account, they wouldn't be enough for those two to kill!
Steeling himself, Xue Muhua looked to the two You heroes. "Masters of the manor, this fiend Murong Bo comes and goes without a trace. Why don't we take our time and plan this at greater length?"
The You brothers were wealthy and fond of befriending jianghu folk, and had much of the manner of Lord Mengchang. They were highly regarded in the martial world of the Central Plains, though their own martial arts were hardly the finest.
Having witnessed today's great battle between Murong Bo and Qin Zheng, the brothers had been badly shaken. They felt that one casual move from either of those two men would be enough to take their lives, and they finally understood that their standing in the jianghu had been piled up out of silver and nothing more.
Should they ever meet a true master, they would be fish on a chopping board, to be carved up by anyone who liked.
You Ji had already taken a dread of Murong Bo, and chimed in, "Divine Doctor Xue is right. You heroes came to the assembly out of regard for my brother and me, and the journey here has left you all worn and road-weary. We brothers feel very badly about it.
I've already had a banquet prepared to see you heroes off!"
You Tanzhi, following at Qin Zheng's side, muttered in open astonishment, "Wasn't the banquet Father prepared a welcome banquet? How did it turn into a farewell banquet in the blink of an eye?"
Qin Zheng burst out laughing. "Probably to save money, so he merged the two banquets into one."
"Huh? My family can't even come up with the money to hold two banquets anymore?"
While You Tanzhi was worrying over his family's finances, the feast had already been laid out in the courtyard.
Once the crowd had eaten and drunk their fill, some even went to the accounts office and drew out a few taels of silver for travel money.
You Tanzhi, meanwhile, had taken up a wooden bucket and begun scrambling with the servants for the leftovers.
You Ji came back from seeing the guests off and happened on this scene. He couldn't help staring blankly for a moment, then frowned. "Tanzhi, what are you doing?"
Eyes clear, You Tanzhi said, "Hero Qin is going to introduce me into the Beggar Gang, and I'm to learn the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms from Chief Qiao. He wants me to get familiar with the life of a Beggar Gang disciple in advance, so that later on I'll be able to fight for my food.
Father, don't worry. Hero Qin says I have real talent. From now on, you and Second Uncle eat first out of whatever food I beg — I definitely won't let you go hungry!"
You Ji felt a surge of gratification: his son truly was filial — it was just that the filial devotion seemed to have been put to use in the wrong place...
He glanced at the leftovers in the bucket and couldn't help smiling bitterly. When his son came back from begging in the future, was he supposed to eat it or not?
Meanwhile, hiccuping, and plainly having overfilled himself, Qin Zheng came to Xue Muhua's room and said to him without any ceremony, "Get me some hawthorn pills or something to help settle my stomach."
Xue Muhua dug through his pack for ages and still found no hawthorn pills. "I left in too much of a hurry and didn't bring along any of my commonly used pills. Shall I put a couple of needles in you instead?"
Qin Zheng waved him off. "No need. My lineage comes from Prime Minister Cao: better that I prick everyone under heaven than that anyone under heaven pricks me."
A'Zi said, baffled, "Didn't your lineage come from Murong Longcheng? How did it turn into Prime Minister Cao? And what country is this Prime Minister Cao the prime minister of?"
Xue Muhua shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, and then his face turned serious. "Hero Qin, you said earlier that Old Freak of Xingxiu has come back into the jianghu. Is that really true?"
"Of course it's true," Qin Zheng said. "The State Preceptor of Tubo, Jiumozhi, took a fancy to your Xiaoyao Sect's Northern Darkness Rebirth Art and went to demand it from Old Freak of Xingxiu. Naturally he wouldn't hand it over, and now, with Jiumozhi hunting him, he's fled into the Central Plains."
Xue Muhua's eyes lit up. "This State Preceptor of Tubo is truly a bodhisattva at heart! May I ask where he is now? I want to thank him to his face!"
Something like amusement crossed Qin Zheng's expression. "Are you sure that once Jiumozhi learns who you are, he won't go demand the manual from your master, Master Congbian?"
Xue Muhua felt as though a basin of cold water had been dumped over him. He calmed down at once and sighed. "This foreign monk from the Western Regions isn't a good man either. I'd better not go looking for him."
Qin Zheng nodded and went on. "Right now Duan Zhengchun is being hunted by Duan Yanqing. I'm a little short of hands, so you and that crowd of martial brothers of yours should go search the jianghu for where he is.
While you're at it, put out the word that Old Freak of Xingxiu is Duan Zhengchun's son, and that he's on his way here to help him!"
Xue Muhua's eyes went wide with astonishment. "So Old Freak of Xingxiu is Duan Zhengchun's son! So apart from being hunted, another reason he's coming to the Central Plains is to rescue his father!"
Duan Yu said, stunned, "Ah — so I have another elder brother!"
A'Zi looked at them oddly. "How old is Duan Zhengchun? How could he possibly have fathered Old Freak of Xingxiu? Don't you doubt Qin Zheng's word even a little?"
Xue Muhua explained patiently, "What's there to doubt? Perhaps Prince Duan has some art for keeping his looks and simply appears young on the outside. Such things are very common. Our Xiaoyao Sect's own martial arts have the effect of preserving the face."
A'Zi was left a total muddle. "..."
Was Duan Zhengchun such an authority on producing sons? How come everyone was convinced Old Freak of Xingxiu was his boy?
If I hadn't seen Duan Zhengchun just last month, even I would almost have believed it!!
Elsewhere, Murong Bo knew Xiao Yuanshan's abilities well and dared not stay to fight. Battling as he fled, he finally managed, with great difficulty, to shake off Xiao Yuanshan's pursuit, and took shelter in a dilapidated temple deep in the mountains to nurse his wounds.
The last time, he and Jiumozhi had crippled each other; he had only just finished recovering from that when Xiao Yuanshan ambushed him and left him badly wounded again. Add to that the way everyone had turned against him, and an air of despondency hung about him that nothing could dispel.
He was sitting there sighing when a woodcutter carrying a bundle of firewood appeared at the door of the broken temple. Seeing there was someone inside, he said, "Brother, I came into the mountains to gather firewood. It's getting late, and I'd like to rest here one night. I hope I'm not intruding on you?"
"Mm. I'm only lodging here too. Make yourself at home."
Having said this without any strength in his voice, Murong Bo raised his face to look at the woodcutter — and once he saw the man's face clearly, his pupils shrank and he froze where he stood.
How did this woodcutter look exactly like he himself had looked some years ago?
The woodcutter seemed to have noticed nothing. He smiled an honest, guileless smile, came over and sat down beside the fire, and took out his provisions to eat.
After a while he finally became aware of Murong Bo's stare. "Brother, are you hungry too?" he asked, puzzled. "If you don't mind, come have something with me." With that he broke the coarse grain flatbread in his hand and held half of it out to Murong Bo.
Full of doubt, Murong Bo took the flatbread and probed, "Thank you. What's your surname, brother? Do your people come from Gusu?"
The woodcutter looked astonished. "How did you know that?"
Murong Bo's heart leapt; he felt he had run into kin of his own. "Then do you know that there's a Murong family in Gusu?"
The woodcutter nodded and sighed. "I know it. Back then my family lived in a little village twenty li from the Murong house. I heard my parents speak of it.
Ah — the truth is, I had an elder brother above me. The year he was born, a plague of locusts came, and my family truly couldn't feed him. Not long after he was born, they sold him to the Murong family.
If he's still alive, he'd be about sixty this year."
Murong Bo felt as if lightning had struck him, and the flatbread slipped from his hand without his noticing. "Ah?!"
Chapter 44