A Pungent Counterkill

As he stood up, he quietly tapped his father on the back a few times. The signal meant, *Be extremely careful.* He Chunhua looked at the two of them without a word. The eatery's owner even gave them directions. "The pit toilet is around back. Once you go in, don't look down." Only after the two stepped outside did Shan Youjun murmur, "Boss, look at those horses. Every one of them is a fine courser built for speed." He Lingchuan had not paid them any attention earlier; after all, Xinhuang had no shortage of cattle and horses today. Prompted by Shan Youjun, he took a closer look. The three mounts were sleek and glossy, with long legs, willow-leaf ears, broad chests, thick muscle, and bright, spirited eyes. They were nothing like plodding cart horses. One was pawing at the dirt. Shan Youjun glanced at it and said, "All three are warhorses, and their hooves and horseshoes were freshly trimmed and shod not long ago. I served as a northern scout cavalryman. I can't be mistaken." Three visiting merchants, each riding a prize mount like that? Shan Youjun pressed in a hushed, urgent tone, "How many merchant bands did we see heading north along this road? The moment we reached Xinhuang, they just happened to be right here." Central and northern Xiazhou were impoverished and desolate; traders could make no profit, so few ever took this route. Escorting the grain transport north, He Lingchuan had indeed seen almost no trade caravans along the way, nor even lone travelling peddlers. He drew in a soft breath. "Got it. Let's wander out here a bit and then head back." They took only a few steps before a light flickered behind them. He Lingchuan glanced back to see one of the three merchants step outside, clutching his belly. "I need to use the pit toilet too. Haven't you found it yet?" He Lingchuan pointed behind the shop. "Nope. Didn't he say it was behind the noodle house?" "Follow me." As the merchant spoke, he ducked into the alley running behind the eatery. Night had already fallen, and the townsfolk kept no lanterns lit, turning every lane into a dark alleyway. Low walls under seven feet tall ran along both sides of this passage, but the trees overhead were tall. They cast deep shade during the day, to say nothing of how thoroughly they choked out what little light remained at night. The wind sighed, leaves rustled, and murky darkness blanketed the surroundings, looking for all the world like a scene from a ghost film. In a place like this at a time like this, trouble was guaranteed. After rounding two corners, He Lingchuan asked the briskly striding merchant, "How much further? Why is a pit toilet so far out?" "Almost there. Right ahead." "You seem mighty familiar with this area." He Lingchuan stopped in his tracks with a smile. "Do you drop a squat out here often?" The merchant turned around as well. "Are you going or not? I'm bursting." He Lingchuan whispered a word into Shan Youjun's ear, completely out of the merchant's earshot, and immediately followed up out loud: "You don't look like merchants to me. Even the regular army doesn't necessarily have horses that fine." The merchant scratched his head. "You don't look like merchants either. What trader would still head north at a time like this?" His expression instantly hardened, and he barked: "Strike!" The hand scratching his head dropped, but his wrist snapped forward. With a faint *twang*, a sleeve arrow burst from a concealed wrist-box, flying straight for He Lingchuan's face. His eye was keen; he could tell He Lingchuan held the higher rank of the two. This sudden betrayal came without the slightest warning. Pitch-black as the alley was, who could ever spot a concealed dart? At the same instant, figures vaulted over the low walls on both sides, lunging at He Lingchuan and Shan Youjun from behind. From the very start, their intention had been to lure them inside to be butchered. He Lingchuan had come prepared. Sidestepping the hidden dart, his left hand had already hurled the scent bun concealed in his palm onto the ground. An indescribable stench instantly smothered the narrow alley. As luck would have it, the wind died down right then, intensifying the odor to an unbearable extreme. He Lingchuan and Shan Youjun held their breath, but the sudden stink bomb threw their three opponents into utter disarray. The merchant who had lured He Lingchuan into the alley bent double, retching uncontrollably, while the two who had vaulted the walls instinctively clamped hands over their noses and mouths before they even found their footing. It was a purely involuntary physical reflex. The whispered instruction He Lingchuan had given Shan Youjun moments ago had consisted of only two words: *Hold breath!* The ambushers wanted to trap them, but why shouldn't they return the favor? The retching man realized he had blundered the moment he bent over. Just as he held his breath and moved to draw his blade, He Lingchuan raised his wrist and fired a concealed dart of his own. The purple-gold sleeve arrow custom-made by Li Fubo had only reached his hands the day before departure; today was its debut. A piece of gear personally crafted by Master Li was in a completely different league from the mass-produced trash this man carried. The fellow had barely begun straightening his back when— A direct hit to the groin! All of He Lingchuan's hard training had to count for something, and at such close range, how could his aim falter? The merchant could not stay on his feet a moment longer, collapsing to the dirt to writhe and screech in agony. Yet He Lingchuan's underhanded trickery did not stop there: a cord was attached to the back of the sleeve arrow. He gave it a casual, gentle tug. *Snap—* It tore free. The man stopped screaming entirely, passing out on the spot. Ambushes with concealed weapons felt far too satisfying; the Martial Review Hall in Panlong City would never have allowed him to wield something so devastating. He Lingchuan exhaled, turning to seek out his next opponent: the enemy currently locked in combat with Shan Youjun. This man had not only reacted with astonishing speed, immediately suppressing his disgust at the foul stench to dive into battle, but was also remarkably fierce. He traded two heavy blows blade-against-blade with Shan Youjun, sparks flying into the dark. He Lingchuan stepped in with a kick, catching him at the overextended end of his blade stroke and planting his boot directly into the man's ribs! With his leg strength, even a thick copper ingot would have been kicked out of shape, to say nothing of human flesh. A sharp agony stabbed the man's side, numbness shot through his limbs, his vision went black, and the breath was nearly knocked clean out of him. Shan Youjun seized the opening to bring down his blade, lopping off his head in one clean stroke. The last enemy had just charged forward with a pair of water-parting piercers raised, only for He Lingchuan to parry them aside with ease. Seeing both companions had already fallen while his opponents remained entirely unscathed, the man abandoned any thought of fighting and turned on his heel to flee. Among the three, he was not the strongest fighter, but he was certainly the fastest runner. With two strides, he braced one hand against a wall, vaulted clean over a mud-brick courtyard, and ducked into another alley. He had arrived in Xinhuang earlier than these men and knew the terrain far better. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, he saw no one giving chase. He had to rush back and report: these marks were far too tough. Once the main force arrived, he would chop off their heads and kick them around like balls. Yet just as he prepared to sprint away, wind suddenly stirred at the back of his neck. A heavy blade flew out of nowhere, stabbing straight through his heart. In through the back of his chest, out through the front—a clean transfixion. The man stumbled forward two paces before collapsing dead. He was already in another alley; how could a great saber have hit him? His face froze in absolute disbelief. He Lingchuan first retrieved his purple-gold sleeve arrow before strolling over to draw his saber. The dart was coated in foul filth and could not be reused for the moment. Following behind, Shan Youjun was equally astonished. He had clearly watched his master hurl the long saber just as the enemy vaulted the wall, only for the blade to veer in midair, changing direction of its own accord to hunt down its quarry. He had heard of homing arrows, throwing daggers, and other magic artifacts that could track a target, but never of a heavy saber with such a property. He Lingchuan drew the prized blade from the back of the wide-eyed corpse, wiped the blood clean on the dead man's clothes, and sheathed it. Naturally, that property of piercing an escaping enemy's chest with a single throw came from the Fusheng saber's Sure-Throw ability. He Lingchuan found it far more useful than shooting arrows. "Let's head back." If the enemy refused to spare even two men stepping out to use the pit toilet, there was no need to ask about He Chunhua's situation. Still, He Lingchuan was not overly worried. His father was a cultivator in his own right and carried a mountain of protective magic artifacts; taking him down would be no easy feat. The two hurried back, but just as they reached the mouth of the alley, a deafening boom erupted to the east, flames illuminating the whole of Xinhuang! The explosion packed colossal force, sending a violent shudder through the earth beneath their feet. He Lingchuan's face drained of color. The restaurant where the county magistrate was hosting Mozhe Jingxuan seemed to be in that very direction! Inside the noodle house, He Chunhua and the remaining two merchants were exchanging desultory remarks, both sides distracted. When the blast tore through the town, the proprietor, who happened to be lifting a basin of water, spilled it everywhere, barely staying upright by clutching a support pillar. He Chunhua, Maotao, and Jiao Tai instinctively turned toward the sound. The two merchants seized the moment to snatch up their weapons and lunge in violent assault. Yet before their strike could close within three feet of He Chunhua, a thin luminous barrier suddenly flared before him, its surface etched with fine, snake-skin patterns. Their strikes instantly bogged down, as though sinking into thick mire. He Chunhua's protective magic artifact had triggered on its own. Jiao Tai looked back, saw the danger, and barked, "You dare!" as he charged to protect his master. He Chunhua tossed the silk-entangling red cord wrapped around his wrist forward. In midair, it expanded into a wide net, wrapping one of the attackers tightly within. Sun Fuping's artifacts proved reliable at every turn. Right then, the wind-cloth curtain was thrown open, startling everyone inside, only for He Lingchuan and Shan Youjun to burst through the door. "Three handled outside!" He Lingchuan announced. What followed held no suspense. With five against one, they cornered the lone remaining assailant and beat him into the dirt within moments. While Jiao Tai pummeled him within an inch of his life, He Chunhua lifted the netted captive from the ground and demanded, "Explain yourself. What is happening out there?" The man burst into wild laughter. "Your chief officer has gone to heaven! My brothers have arrived to send you all after him!" He Chunhua exchanged a look with his son, then pressed, "How did you know when our grain convoy would pass through here?" The convoy had given Xinhuang only a single day's notice to prepare. Xunzhou scout cavalry ranged all across central and northern Xiazhou—an immense territory. They should never have caught wind of the movement so quickly. The man sneered without answering. "He's stalling for time," He Lingchuan said, seeing through him at a glance. "Quick, back to the camp!" Jiao Tai slit the prisoner's throat with a stroke of his blade. Paying no heed to the trembling shopkeeper clinging to the post, He Lingchuan made sure to toss down a dozen copper coins for the food. The five rushed out of the diner, untied the three fine mounts belonging to the Xunzhou scouts, and leapt into the saddles. ... Five men on three horses had galloped less than a hundred zhang when a thunderous drumming of hooves shook the air: A troop was sweeping up from the south—judging by the sound, at least two to three hundred riders! "*Hah!*" He Chunhua's expression changed as he urged his mount to full speed. The horses veered off the main street, racing straight toward the grain escort camp. He Lingchuan looked back to see a dense, surging mass of cavalry in their wake. These riders had torn open their outer coats and cloaks to reveal the military tunics beneath. Even if He Lingchuan had never seen the cut of their uniforms, he could say with absolute certainty that the pursuers were Xunzhou scout cavalry. Evidently, these men had long lain in ambush outside Xinhuang, waiting for the explosion in town as their signal to storm in, slaughter everyone, and seize the grain!