Liufeng City
A young man in a blue robe, sword at his side, rode away on a white horse, growing ever more distant until he vanished from the sight of the man in black. The latter slowly stepped forward and remarked calmly, “Congratulations on returning to your Origin Realm.”
Qin Yi did not turn back. He walked straight out of the mountain manor, sighing, “I had intended to repay you, but now I owe him a debt instead.”
The man in black followed him outside, asking, “What are your plans now? Are you going to fight your junior and snatch the thing back?”
Qin Yi shook his head. “A fight is inevitable, after all, I owe him that much.”
A few silver needles appeared in the black-robed man’s hand—varying in size and sharpness, yet strangely connected.
With a sudden flash of cold light from the needles, the man in black said, “You really live up to your name—so entangled in matters of the heart. I told you, you should have let me needle you long ago.”
Qin Yi replied, “This is a sickness of the heart. Even your thousand needles would do no good. Besides, it doesn’t seem you’ve come to terms with these things yourself.”
With a flick, the man in black threw the needles; Qin Yi twisted aside to evade them, turning back with a mocking smile, “What’s this? The renowned Sage of Medicine resorting to killing? Aren’t you afraid of clouding your heart?”
The man in black snorted coldly, “Killing those who deserve death is the same as saving lives—a virtuous deed all the same.”
Qin Yi smirked, merely chuckling as he walked side by side with the other. With a more serious tone, he asked, “Since you’re so worried about him, why didn’t you accompany him yourself? Why ask me to deliver a message midway?”
The man in black gazed in the direction Zhang Ling had gone, his eyes resolute, “He said this is his own path, and he should walk it alone.”
Qin Yi fell silent. After a moment, the man in black asked, “Any word from your Hall Master?”
Qin Yi shook his head. “Since the Battle of Luping seventeen years ago, our Hall Master has been missing as well.”
The man in black seized the opportunity to sneer, “How strange—the Deputy Hall Master of the Bright Hall, locking himself away in this mountain manor for years, yet knows nothing of his own Hall Master’s whereabouts.”
Qin Yi, his identity laid bare, took no offense. He explained, “If our Hall Master wishes to hide, no one under heaven could find him. But let’s turn to your own affairs—are you truly at ease letting Zhang Ling head to the capital alone? If you and Prince Chen acted together, you could waltz in and out of the capital a hundred times, destroy a few noble families with ease. It would spare you much trouble, and since they’re no good people, it wouldn’t trouble your conscience.”
The man in black cast Qin Yi a glance. “If I intervene, it would mean the Valley of the Medicine King declaring war on the Chen Kingdom. The country’s current stability was hard-won by my foster father; even Uncle Zong wouldn’t act lightly. Besides, I sense he’s changed since returning—otherwise he wouldn’t have asked to learn martial arts. Perhaps he can handle what awaits him in the capital.”
Qin Yi looked at him, rebuking, “Those are your own affairs. Why force him to bear the burden? Are you not afraid he might stumble?”
With a light step, the man in black drifted away, his voice echoing back, “With me here, who can harm him?”
Qin Yi laughed softly, raised his head to look at the manor, and lingered awhile, sighing, “It truly is a cage.”
...
In Liufeng City, apart from the City Lord’s Mansion, three families held sway: the Song, Luo, and Wang clans. Among them, the Song clan stood preeminent, its dominance increasingly apparent. Yet, the Songs never sought to swallow up the other two families, instead often lending them aid. Thus, relations among the three appeared harmonious on the surface, though beneath it, the others regarded the Song clan with a peculiar mix of respect and fear. Should the Songs ever invite them to merge, resentment would be swallowed for the sake of peace. In recent years, the City Lord’s Mansion, once the unrivaled power in the city, attempted to suppress the Songs, but as the clan grew stronger, such efforts faded into silence. Few knew the true reason why.
Within the Song estate, a stately middle-aged man sat alone in a garden pavilion, sipping tea and reading, the very image of leisure. Occasionally, his brow furrowed in thought. Suddenly, an eagle swooped down, alighting on the stone table in the pavilion. It dropped a letter from its beak before spreading its wings and flying off. Unfolding the missive, the man’s face revealed a trace of surprise. At some point, an elderly man had appeared by his side, who, watching the departing eagle, remarked in surprise, “Is that from the master of the mountain manor a hundred miles away? This is the first time he’s sent you a letter.”
The family head nodded and asked, “Uncle, has Linjie returned yet?”
The elder called Uncle by the head of the Song family shook his head. “The letter was sent a month ago. He’s probably off playing the hero again.”
The family head set down the letter and rose, instructing, “Uncle, please send for Huaishu.”
The old man nodded and left. After a while, a young man approached, calm and composed, bowing in greeting. “Family head.”
The Song patriarch inquired, “How are the preparations for the tournament?”
The youth replied, “Everything is in order. All the necessary people have been invited, and the disciples have arrived—except for Linjie.”
The family head sighed again. “Go fetch him, lest he miss tomorrow’s clan competition.”
The young man accepted the order and headed straight for the main gate, only to be followed by the family head himself. The youth asked, “Are you coming as well, sir?”
The Song patriarch shook his head. “No, I’m going to receive a guest.”
Ever careful in speech and conduct, the young man, having long mastered the art of social grace, pressed no further. When they stepped outside, they parted ways.
Beyond Liufeng City, Zhang Ling, dressed in blue and sword in hand, lay on his back atop his horse, poring over “The Secret Art of the Diamond Body” that Yang Xiao had given him. Every chapter, every page, was inscribed with four words: “Remove clothes, endure pain”—in short, strip and take a beating. The more Zhang Ling thought about it, the more vexed he became. In a fit of pique, he flung the seemingly fraudulent book aside.
The snow-white horse carried Zhang Ling forward at a leisurely pace. He patted the horse’s neck and smiled, “Since I’ve brought you out, there’s no reason to take you back. From now on, you’ll be with me. Hmm, I don’t know your name yet. I’ll give you one—let’s call you ‘Snowstep.’ What do you think?”
The horse suddenly reared, letting out a joyous whinny. Zhang Ling barely managed to cling on and avoid being thrown. When the horse calmed, he chuckled, “Seems you’re quite pleased.”
Along the way, Zhang Ling either galloped or strolled, taking in the verdant scenery as if on a pleasure tour. Gradually, the imposing city walls of Liufeng City loomed before him. Streams of people flowed in and out of the gates. Two city guards stood nearby: one, on the left, dozed against the wall, while the other, on the right, idly flipped a copper coin.
Dismounting, Zhang Ling took a careful look at the city wall, then led Snowstep over to the guard on the right. The man, noticing someone approach, pocketed the coin and sized up the youth in blue. “What can I do for you, young man?”
Zhang Ling handed him his waterskin. The guard took it, appreciative of the gesture, and rewarded him with a smile. Zhang Ling asked, “Sir, with so many people coming and going, don’t you search anyone? Aren’t you afraid troublemakers might slip into the city?”
Perhaps out of boredom, the guard replied generously, “You must be new here, young man. Liufeng has always been like this. If a large group with carriages enters, of course we check them. But with so many people, if we checked every single one, we’d be exhausted. And one or two people can’t stir up much trouble anyway.”
Zhang Ling asked, “But what if it’s a powerful martial artist?”
The guard shrugged. “That’s not something little folk like us could stop. If we tried, we’d only lose our lives for nothing.”
Zhang Ling paused, then nodded. “That makes sense.”
With his curiosity satisfied, Zhang Ling didn’t linger. He led his horse into the city.