Chapter 89:
Listening in to a Late-Night Show

 

“IF THIS DISTINGUISHED MASTER is only stopping by,” said Shen Qiao, “I must ask you to go somewhere else.”

Though the other party didn’t reveal his face, his figure appeared somewhat familiar. However, Shen Qiao couldn’t be certain whether he really was that person.

He once heard Yan Wushi mention certain rules of the jianghu: When traveling outside, robbers would inevitably appear at night. They’d hide on inn rooftops and target guests, waiting for a chance to strike. Perhaps to steal money, or perhaps for another reason altogether. At this point, guests from sects ought to declare which one they were from. If the thief saw that their target was a powerful martial artist, or came from a prestigious background, they’d usually be too afraid to attack.

Shen Qiao had already displayed his qinggong. Anyone with eyes should be able to see that he was a fearsome martial artist and have second thoughts about offending him.

But the other party didn’t speak—didn’t even wait for Shen Qiao to finish before he suddenly struck.

His movements were profoundly gentle, as if he were only plucking flowers or willow branches, but it wasn’t the Spring Waters finger technique that Shen Qiao expected. The blast from that palm was light and airy, yet halfway through it suddenly transformed, now bone-chillingly severe as it swept toward his face.

With a furl of his sleeve, Shen Qiao negated the palm strike, but the other man suddenly flashed forward, reappearing before him. His right hand struck at a key acupoint on Shen Qiao’s wrist, and the left made a grab for Shen Qiao’s neck.

Shen Qiao didn’t retreat but advanced instead. His sleeves flapped outward like waves crashing upon the shore, and he sent a heavy strike at his opponent’s left hand. Meanwhile, his own left hand nimbly turned itself over, slipping out of the other’s grasping range, then grabbed for the man instead.

“Yan Wushi?” he ventured, if only because those hands looked somewhat familiar. The martial arts, however, were completely different.

The man in black still didn’t answer. Instead, he made another soundless strike, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to kill Shen Qiao—rather than fighting, it was more like the two of them were sparring.

Even if it was only a spar, every move was expertly executed and profound.

The current Shen Qiao was already extensively experienced—at least, he possessed an understanding of the martial arts from the various sects. For a martial artist of his level, if he’d seen moves that were similar in style, he’d recall them completely. But this black-clad man’s movements were an utter mystery—one move would seem like it came from Qingcheng Mountain’s Chunyang Monastery, but then his next would appear in the style of the demonic sects. Shen Qiao found himself at a loss.

Some powerful martial artists might not care for battle, but any who were willing to chase after goals on the martial path would possess a love for the arts themselves. No matter how uncompetitive or indifferent to reputation Shen Qiao was, he couldn’t resist the thrill of excitement upon seeing an unknown yet equally matched opponent, and he was itching to duel him.

Having gained so much experience while in the jianghu, he no longer dropped his guard so easily. He was also wary that the opponent might be trying to draw him away from the inn, to target Yuwen Song while he slept in the room.

Once someone attained a certain level of martial prowess, they could determine a person’s location just by the sound of their breathing, and Shen Qiao possessed this ability. Though he was currently fighting this man, he kept a sliver of his attention on Yuwen Song, and he could tell that the boy was still sleeping as soundly as before, completely unaware of the fight taking place on the roof.

They’d exchanged several blows, but neither side had used their full strength. His opponent’s goal was unclear, and his moves only grew more varied, innovative, and unpredictable. Shen Qiao took the opportunity of an opening to grab at his hat, and his fingers caught the black veil, thus exposing the man’s face.

It really was Yan Wushi!

“Sect Leader Yan?” Shen Qiao frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“A-Qiao, you’re so callous,” said Yan Wushi. “I almost died against Sang Jingxing for you, and yet the first thing you say is a frosty ‘Sect Leader Yan?’” His voice was teasing and full of laughter. There was no trace of the estrangement he’d demonstrated earlier in the day.

“You remember everything?” With their meeting that day, Shen Qiao had already mentally prepared himself for Yan Wushi losing all his memories. To think that the man would be exactly the same as before upon opening his mouth! He couldn’t help but pause in his astonishment, his movements also halting.

And with this slight pause, Yan Wushi’s finger had already struck his shoulder, and Shen Qiao fell limply into Yan Wushi’s outstretched arms.

“Shh!” Smiling, Yan Wushi made a gesture, telling him to be quiet. “No need to worry. I’m just bringing you elsewhere.”

Before Shen Qiao could react, Yan Wushi also struck his mute acupoint. His use of the Spring Waters finger technique was incomparably dexterous—there was no sign that he’d suffered any decline in martial arts.

Shen Qiao thought that he’d been quite watchful, yet somehow he’d been tricked anyway. Before he could drive himself to frustration, Yan Wushi had already picked him up in a bridal carry and leapt off the inn’s roof. His figure fell and rose, elegant and strong, his black clothes melding into the night. Carrying a second person didn’t slow him down in the slightest.

Yuwen Song was still back at the inn…

Shen Qiao couldn’t speak, but Yan Wushi seemed to guess his thoughts. “The Yuwen family has nothing to worry about now that Yuwen Xian’s gone. Yuwen Yun is the only one who wishes to slaughter them all; no one else will care about a single Yuwen-qilang. It might have been different right after Yuwen Xian’s death, but to travel thousands of miles and drag him back at this point? It’s pointless.”

These words implied that Yuwen Song was safe.

Upon hearing this, Shen Qiao knew that Yan Wushi had never lost his memories in the first place, let alone undergone any personality shifts. But he had no idea what had happened in between. Why had he been talking and laughing with Guang Lingsan? Shen Qiao’s many doubts hadn’t vanished with Yan Wushi’s reappearance—if anything, they’d increased.

Yan Wushi had no intention of explaining—at least, not right now. He carried Shen Qiao as he flew from rooftop to rooftop. Before long, the inn was far behind them.

Though his body couldn’t move, Shen Qiao’s vision was still fine. He suddenly realized that Yan Wushi’s destination seemed to be the Huang residence they’d been at earlier in the day.

“We’re going to see a fun show,” said Yan Wushi. “However, you’re not to move, else I won’t bring you out to play again.” His voice was light; it sounded more like he was coaxing a child.

Regardless of how good-natured Shen Qiao was, he couldn’t resist internally rolling his eyes.

The Huang household wasn’t a poor, humble family—guards were patrolling, both within the gates and without. However, their martial abilities were naturally insufficient to discover Yan Wushi, and he might as well have been carrying Shen Qiao through a public square—no different than if he’d been strolling around his own backyard.

Shen Qiao noticed that the place he’d landed seemed to be the back garden where they’d thrown the birthday banquet earlier. Shen Qiao had encountered Guang Lingsan and Yan Wushi around the rockery. In order to reach this yard, one had to loop around the rockery first, so they should be near the yard’s pond.

Unlike before, Yan Wushi didn’t stop on the rooftop—instead he chose a spot near the pond with dense vegetation, which happened to be in a blind spot around a turn in the walls. The cover provided by the shadows of the colonnades and leaves helped conceal their figures completely, and with their martial prowess, they could easily adjust their breathing. There was little worry of them being discovered.

The building near the wall they were pressed against was lit by candlelight. The faint, flickering glow poured out through the cracks in the window, accompanied by the scattered sounds of conversation.

Shen Qiao had no idea why Yan Wushi had brought him here to eavesdrop. Even after they’d waited a while, the man appeared to have no intentions of unsealing his acupoints, so he could only prick his ears to listen to the sounds within that room.

The conversation was very quiet, but by using his true qi, he could still hear a little.

One person was panting harshly, their breaths interspersed with the occasional teasing word.

Another person moaned, their voice sweet and fawning.

It was true that Shen Qiao had no experience when it came to romance between men and women, but even someone who’d never eaten pork would still know the word “pig.” Hearing these noises, of course he knew what they were doing.

Daoism extolled a life of purity and integrity, but if one wanted to pair cultivate, there were Daoist methods for it. There was no outright ban, making it different from Buddhism, which enforced both abstinence and vegetarianism. However, knowing about it was one thing; actually listening to people rolling about in bed was another. Perhaps some people would enjoy eavesdropping on the lovemaking of others, but Shen Qiao was a modest and upright gentleman. He was instantly uncomfortable and longed to burst his acupoints open right then and run.

As if he’d noticed Shen Qiao’s thoughts, Yan Wushi sealed two more key acupoints on his back, utterly laying waste to Daoist Master Shen’s plan.

Shen Qiao would have had nothing to say even if he’d been able to speak.

“Only an immoral man will see immoral things,” said Yan Wushi, using the Sound Transmission technique, “while the pure will remain pure. Don’t you know that, Daoist Master Shen?”

His tone was leisurely, leaving Shen Qiao speechless.

At this moment, the couple were in the throes of passion. The woman was completely bare, reclining on her back with her legs wrapped around the man’s waist. Her soft and pliant body delighted the man so much he was loath to let go, and he quickened his pace.

“Yun-niang, Yun-niang…” The man repeated the nickname of the woman below him, his body soaked in sweat from his vigorous thrusts. Panting ceaselessly, he teased her in a rough voice: “Though you’re a little older than me, I couldn’t have imagined how arresting you are without your clothes. If only I’d known earlier…”

Since Shen Qiao’s acupoints were sealed, rendering him completely immobile, he could only steel himself and continue listening. Yan Wushi had placed him by the wall, while he himself stood behind him, holding him up, supporting what seemed to be most of Shen Qiao’s weight. But even as the lovemaking continued within the building, Yan Wushi didn’t stay still either. The arm holding Shen Qiao slowly began to wander, and he even whispered in Shen Qiao’s ear, “A-Qiao, I don’t see how she’s so arresting. She’s only average. If anything, you have a waist more slender than hers…”

Spring nights were crisp, but Shen Qiao’s internal energy had slowly recovered, and he no longer feared the cold as before, so he only wore a single Daoist robe. Right now, separated only by a thin layer of fabric, Yan Wushi’s body heat was searing hot. It almost felt like it was pressed right to his skin.

“A-Qiao, you’re shivering,” Yan Wushi said, mouth against his ear. “Are you wearing too little?” Laughter laced his tone, and he had almost trapped Shen Qiao within his arms.

I’ll stop shivering if you let go! Shen Qiao raged internally. He didn’t know whether it was due to shameful anger or embarrassment, but his face also grew increasingly warm.

The conversation within the building continued.

“What would have happened if you’d known earlier?” The woman’s voice was a little hoarse, but it only added a touch of charm.

“If I’d known earlier, I’d have dragged you into bed sooner!” The man laughed, gloating. “Is your Guild Leader Dou as skilled as I am in bed?”

The moment he heard the words “Guild Leader Dou,” Shen Qiao jerked to attention. He paid no further heed to Yan Wushi’s provocations and focused all his energies on listening to them talk. Yan Wushi silently lamented this, but his teasing ceased.

The woman was displeased. “Enough with that nonsense. There’s nothing between him and me. If not for the rapport we shared, why would I do this with you? What kind of trash do you take me for? Do you think the lofty deputy leader of the Liuhe Guild is so eager to humiliate herself?!”

The Liuhe Guild’s deputy leader, Yun Fuyi!

Shen Qiao had already thought this woman’s voice sounded familiar, but he’d been unable to recall it. It was only when she spoke her own title that he saw the light.

Was this not Yun Fuyi, whom he’d met once before at Chuyun Temple?

When the man heard the subtle anger within her voice, he quickly smiled apologetically. “I misspoke, I misspoke. Don’t be angry! My love for you is sincere!”

After this brief interlude, the building was once again filled with sounds of passion. Shen Qiao had no mind for embarrassment—he replayed their conversation in his mind.

The man’s voice sounded fairly young—he definitely wasn’t the Master Huang who’d thrown the birthday banquet earlier today. Perhaps he was from the second generation, or even the third. The Huang household was wealthy and could be considered a famous noble family in the area, but by the standards of the jianghu, they were only average, their martial arts mediocre. Why would Yun Fuyi show up here and involve herself with them?

Regardless, Yan Wushi couldn’t have brought him to this wall to eavesdrop for this long, just so Shen Qiao could witness the passion between a couple in love.

But Yan Wushi didn’t give him much time to think—once again, he picked Shen Qiao up by the waist, then took him around the garden. They passed through the rockery and arrived at the cookhouse within the yard.

Naturally, as it was the middle of the night, it was silent. There was neither smoke nor the aroma of food. In fact, other than the couple from earlier who’d snuck into the garden for their affair, the members of the Huang household mostly stayed in a neighboring manor, which had its own kitchen. The master of the house and his female servants also had their own cooking areas while the food served at the banquet earlier had been ordered from inns. This kitchen was mostly for decoration, and few people visited.

Yan Wushi put Shen Qiao down and unsealed his acupoints, restoring his freedom. Of course, Shen Qiao didn’t start yelling, nor did he make a run for it; by now he’d realized that Yan Wushi must have brought him here for something important. He followed him as he pushed open the door of the cookhouse and entered.

“Did you realize anything?” Yan Wushi suddenly asked without looking back.

Shen Qiao thought for a moment, then said, “Everything here is neatly put away. Seems like it’s rarely used.”

Yan Wushi shook his head. “If it’s been a while since it was last used, with the windows shut so tightly, there should at least be some dust. But there isn’t even a speck of it. Don’t you find that strange?”

Shen Qiao realized he was right. “That’s true. So that means people must come here often?”

“Correct,” said Yan Wushi.

He approached the stove and effortlessly lifted the iron pan. There was no wood-burning stovetop beneath but instead a pitch-black hole—an entrance.

Yan Wushi vaulted up the stove and into the hole. Shen Qiao followed closely, his hands braced against the stone wall. Initially, he’d thought that this would be a long, deep tunnel, but he unexpectedly hit the ground right after leaping in. Looking at the room below, it seemed to be a cellar, but there were no stairs.

The glow of fire flickered to life—it was the torch in Yan Wushi’s hand.

Shen Qiao looked around, his expression shifting to surprise despite himself. This hidden room wasn’t very large; at most it was the size of a main hall. However, other than the one they’d entered against, the remaining three walls were lined with weapon after weapon, all neatly arranged. There were spears, sabers, and bows and arrows. An expert could tell at a glance that these weapons had been forged from high-quality woods and metals. Roughly estimating, there were around one to two thousand weapons here in total. No matter how wealthy the Huang family was and how many guards they employed, this was far beyond what they needed. It would have been excessive even if they were used to lay siege to this city.

Shen Qiao couldn’t help but ask, “The Huang family wishes to revolt?”

Yan Wushi didn’t answer his question. Instead, he said, “The man who was together with Yun Fuyi is called Huang Gefei. He’s Huang Xidao’s second son. The eldest son is sickly, so this second son is likely to succeed the family.”

The two of them followed their original tracks out of the room and returned the iron pan to its original spot. It was as if they’d never been here; nothing was out of place.

The two of them walked toward the inn after leaving the Huang residence. Runan had a curfew in place, but this meant nothing to the two of them—they naturally had many ways to avoid the night patrols.

Yan Wushi chuckled. “A-Qiao, I can see from your face that you’re bursting with questions.”

Shen Qiao indeed had many questions, all intertwined with each other like tangled silk threads, impossible to separate. He could only start from his simplest, most pressing one.

“How did you escape Sang Jingxing that day?”

“I never fought Sang Jingxing that day,” said Yan Wushi.

Shen Qiao thought, Don’t tell me that he lied to me back then?

Yan Wushi seemed to realize what he was thinking. “I didn’t lie to you. Before I took you to that broken-down temple, I contacted Guang Lingsan to tell him that I wished to make a deal with him.”

He purposely paused. Shen Qiao was no fool, just a bit slow when it came to figuring out schemes. Now he followed Yan Wushi’s train of thought and found the answer. “The Zhuyang Strategy scroll?”

It was simple. Since the Fenglin Scriptures contained a flaw, anyone cultivating from the book would run into the same obstacle. That was why Yan Wushi had wanted the scroll, Hehuan Sect had eyed it covetously, and Fajing Sect too, naturally, could never let it slip by.

After Guang Lingsan had allied with four other martial artists to ambush Yan Wushi, one would expect a deep grudge between the two. But when human machinations were afoot, things could never be that simple. The three demonic sects kept each other in check, and so, with the threat named Sang Jingxing looming ahead, Yan Wushi had chosen to form a temporary alliance with Guang Lingsan. It was sensible.

Praise colored Yan Wushi’s tone. “Indeed. I told him that if he was willing to help me out of this situation, I’d pass the entirety of the scroll’s contents to him.”

However, even if Yan Wushi had calculated correctly, he couldn’t be certain that Guang Lingsan would arrive in time, or even if he’d show up as promised. Hence, he’d still chosen to go ahead by himself and leave Shen Qiao at the temple.

Although he didn’t give Shen Qiao a direct answer, with this, Shen Qiao’s doubts were resolved.

For some reason, when he received this answer, it felt like a weighty stone had been lifted from his heart, which was no longer suspended in midair.

Yan Wushi mocked him then. “Did you still doubt me, deep down inside? Did you think I’d abandoned you in order to escape?”

Of course, Shen Qiao would never admit that he’d wept at Yan Wushi’s retreating back. “Sect Leader Yan has always been this way. This lowly Daoist dares not let down his guard.”

Yan Wushi gave a scoffing laugh but didn’t say anything else.

After thinking for a while, Shen Qiao brought up another question. “Demonic practitioners have always been mistrustful. Why would Guang Lingsan believe that you’d hand him the real thing and not something you’d scrambled or modified?”

“You’ve also read the scroll,” said Yan Wushi. “You should still remember that it was only a commentary on Riyue Sect’s various martial arts. Tao Honging wrote down his understanding of the demonic core’s flaw but not any details on the martial arts themselves. All he did was offer several of his opinions on how to repair the flaw. Anyone familiar with Riyue Sect’s martial arts would naturally be able to tell if the contents are complete or truthful. It’s immensely difficult to tamper with.”

Plainly speaking, no concrete martial arts were listed within the scroll—one couldn’t cultivate with it. Each person would have to patch the flaw based on their own understanding. Whether or not they could make a breakthrough ultimately depended on their comprehension. Since it was a matter of life and death, even if there was only a strand of hope, Guang Lingsan still had to try. After all, no one would be willing to stagnate forever as a martial artist.

Shen Qiao nodded. “That’s why you showed up at the Huang residence with Guang Lingsan?”

“I told him the scroll’s contents,” said Yan Wushi, “but as he can’t trust me completely, he wanted to find Chen Gong’s version and compare the two. During this time, I found a place and entered secluded cultivation, but I didn’t expect that the moment I left, I’d hear that Yuwen Yong had already passed.”

Shen Qiao sighed. “That’s not all. The newly enthroned Emperor of Zhou unjustly slaughtered Yuwen Xian’s entire family. Yuwen Song is the only one left.”

Yan Wushi didn’t seem the least bit surprised. He went on, “After Guang Lingsan verified the contents of the scroll, he met up with me and told me this news: the Huang family of Runan is raising a private army and secretly colluding with the Göktürks.”

These were tumultuous times. One might sit on the throne today, but tomorrow, another would sit there instead—this wasn’t anything new. Only in the last couple of decades had the situation in the world at large stabilized somewhat. It was no surprise that there were still people ambitious enough to rebel, wanting to be crowned king. However…

“Though Yuwen Yun’s killing of talented ministers makes one’s heart heavy, the foundation Yuwen Yong laid out for him still exists,” said Shen Qiao. “Zhou has also just annexed Qi—they’re at the peak of their power. These weapons of the Huang family can arm at most one or two thousand soldiers. Even if they can occupy Runan, I fear it’ll still be useless.”

Yan Wushi’s expression was uncanny. “That’s where you’re wrong. The Huang family has no need to revolt. They’re only the Göktürks’ dogs; as long as the Göktürks toss them some scraps, they’ll be able to gorge themselves endlessly.”

Shen Qiao found himself uncomprehending and a bit perplexed. “Forgive this humble Daoist for being so slow.”

“Now that Yuwen Yong is dead, the Göktürks have lost one of their greatest enemies,” Yan Wushi explained. “They support the abolished royal family of Qi, planning to divide the north once again. Yuwen Yun completely lacks the ability to hold on to what his forefathers left him. Meanwhile, Runan has a potent military, who have always protected the rightful bloodline of Zhou. Now the Huang family need only stall Runan, and the imperial court would have their hands full. Especially since Yuwen Yun has already eradicated his capable generals, like Yuwen Xian. Under these circumstances, the Zhou Dynasty will be unable to stop Qi from reviving.”

Shen Qiao thought, Why are you so happy when the Zhou Dynasty is suffering misfortune?

“Didn’t you support Yuwen Xian’s ascension to the throne before?” he asked. “Now he’s gone, and Huanyue Sect’s authority has been uprooted entirely. What are you going to do?”

Yan Wushi blinked at him. “My good A-Qiao, are you worried about my venerable self?”

Though his face didn’t reveal his age, this man was already past forty, and he was still trying to act cute. It was really…

Too shameless.