Chapter Fifty-Three: The Beginning of the Conspiracy

“We martial artists ought to be this way!” Yue Wuhuo, who had remained silent, slammed his cup heavily on the table and raised his voice.

“Second Brother—” Luo Yanzong began, but hesitated.

“If you want power or influence, earn it yourself. Why keep dragging Master into this?” With that, Yue Wuhuo paid no heed to whether Zhai Guan was truly drunk or only pretending, turned on his heel, and strode away.

Mo Yi, too, left quietly without a word.

“Senior Brother, it’s getting late,” Luo Dunzi said with a simple smile, then bowed his head and departed.

“Eighth Brother, let’s go as well.”

Once everyone had left, Zhai Guan finally opened his eyes. Staring into the overcast, oppressive sky, his gaze was so dark it seemed it could drip water.

“So this is how it is, all the same. It can’t go on like this. How long can we keep up this pretense?”

On the way back, Luo Yanzong gave a slight sigh. “Eighth Brother, I’m afraid you’ve seen a joke today.”

“It’s nothing. In fact, Senior Brother Zhai reminded me of something,” Kou Li said suddenly.

“Oh?”

“In this world, people can be broadly divided into two types: those who ride in sedan chairs, and those who carry them. Those who carry the chairs are always dreaming of riding in one, while those who ride wish never to step down. The two are locked in constant rivalry, yet inseparable.”

“So, Brother, do you wish to ride or to carry?” Zhai Guan asked with a smile.

“I only want to see the scenery beyond the sedan chair,” Kou Li replied with a smile of his own.

“You have quite the ambition, Brother,” Luo Yanzong shook his head. “But let’s leave that aside. Earlier, I hadn’t finished what I wished to say. The martial trade is, after all, a legitimate one. As long as you follow the rules, danger is uncommon. But the underworld trade is a different story.”

“Senior Brother, you’ve mentioned this underworld trade before—isn’t it separate from the local martial community?”

“The Beggars’ Guild, the Merry Brotherhood, and the Blood Banner—these are the three great black societies of the martial world. The Beggars’ Guild controls the affairs of the lower nine trades—thievery, pickpocketing, abduction, prostitution, extortion, kidnapping—most of these are their doing. The Merry Brotherhood, also called the Green Forest Headquarters, encompasses all the great bandits and outlaws. This includes the knife gangs of Jiangxi, horse bandits beyond the frontier, coastal pirates, even fugitives from the court—each has ties to them.”

“The most dangerous is the Blood Banner, and also the most mysterious. Legend says it is the largest assassination syndicate among the folk, taking commissions from all sides, rumored to work with both the imperial court and rebels. Every year, at least a hundred people are killed at their hands—none but high officials and the wealthy. Yet, they have been silent for many years.”

Luo Yanzong went on to explain the rules, jargon, and secret signals of the martial trades, especially the marks of the three black societies. The conversation lasted until the sky grew pale with dawn, and only then did the two part ways.

Kou Li, for his part, felt no trace of sleepiness. The martial and underworld trades seemed like guilds for fighters, gathering all who practiced martial arts under one net, locked in ceaseless schemes and power plays—an immense and intricate web of relationships and interests, forming the true world of the Jianghu.

Now, he could truly say he had set foot into this world.

But the speed with which it drew him in was beyond anything he had expected.

Early the following morning, a letter of challenge arrived, naming Kou Li directly and putting him on the spot.

“What? The Water Dragon Gang has challenged Eighth Brother to a life-and-death bout, ten days from now, on their gambling boat?!” Yue Wuhuo snatched up the envelope and read it over and over, at least ten times, still unable to believe it. “It must be fake.”

“In Lingnan, faking the Water Dragon Gang’s name would be unheard of,” Luo Yanzong said, rubbing his brow.

“It’s probably because Eighth Brother killed the Soul-Chasing Wolf and they found out,” Master Lin Xian remarked calmly. “The letter says it will be handled according to the rules of the martial trade—a fair fight, life or death decided by the contest. If we refuse, they’ll report Eighth Brother for murder.”

“You mean to say you really killed one of the Four Tigers and Eight Wolves?” Yue Wuhuo was first shocked, then furious. “This is outrageous! If you lose, it’s just because your skills were lacking. But if everyone acts like this, what’s the point of having contests? This is a complete breach of the rules!”

“No, they’re taking advantage of the fact that we haven’t joined the Cantonese branch of the martial trade, so we’re not considered locals. Their rules don’t apply to us,” Luo Yanzong interjected.

“No witnesses, no evidence, and it’s been half a year since the incident. Even if the Water Dragon Gang is powerful, if it goes to court, they may not win,” Kou Li said suddenly. He didn’t voice another thought: a few dead commoners wouldn’t sate the hatred on either side, and if the court truly wanted to pardon Zhu Baozai, the Water Dragon Gang would become a scapegoat.

He had yet to hear any news of the naval camp being breached, which meant that information was being suppressed. The longer the silence, the more serious the situation.

Perhaps the naval commander surnamed Shen had met with misfortune?

Seeing the calm of the three before him, Yue Wuhuo could no longer contain himself. “So what do we do now? We can’t just sit and wait! If Eighth Brother enters a death match, he’s doomed—his opponent is none other than the South’s foremost free-fighter, Diao Fengsheng, grand master of the Diao family sect!”

“Grand master? Is he a fighter or a preacher?” Kou Li retorted.

“Diao Fengsheng is of my generation, and once had the best chance of breaking through the Four Great Refinements. Fifteen years ago, he was injured and gradually retired, returning home to open a martial school and gather disciples. Who’d have thought the Water Dragon Gang would drag him back for this?” Lin Xian explained. “I once sparred with him—his energy is both hard and soft, like a steel brush. His family’s free-fighting style is truly at its peak.”

“Eighth Brother, don’t worry. As long as you stay at the Tidal Observation Hall, even if the authorities come, I’ll make them take the long way around,” Yue Wuhuo grumbled, still angry. His relationship with Kou Li wasn’t especially close, but he was counting on him to finish perfecting the Tiger Fist. Kou Li couldn’t die yet.

He didn’t know, however, that Kou Li had already begun to abandon that plan.

“Indeed, I’ve said before: as long as Eighth Brother is at the Tidal Observation Hall, no matter the opponent, he’ll be safe.”

“Master, senior brothers, before the Water Dragon Gang people left, they handed me this,” a trembling apprentice said, opening his palm to reveal a simple wooden hairpin.

“This is—”

“Miss Su’e!” Yue Wuhuo shot to his feet, eyes bloodshot, rage erupting as he made for the door.

“Second Brother, where are you going?” Luo Yanzong barked.

“I’ll kill them all!”

“Come back, don’t be rash—!”

Kou Li closed his eyes and sighed. As expected, they had found out. It seemed that even within the hall, the Water Dragon Gang had their informants, perhaps even about his alchemy.

“Eighth Brother, Miss Su’e truly cares for you. You can’t ignore this, you can’t let her die!” Yue Wuhuo’s breath was labored. At this moment, all thoughts of Tiger Fist manuals had vanished from his mind.

“I don’t want to drag an innocent woman into my troubles, but I also don’t want to knowingly walk into a trap,” Kou Li replied calmly. “Senior Brother, what do you advise?”

“You—!” Yue Wuhuo wished he could strike him dead. How could Miss Su’e be fond of such a cold-hearted wretch?

“Enough. It’s not time for that yet. Second Brother, don’t act rashly,” Luo Yanzong said with a frown. “The critical thing now is this—whether Eighth Brother fights or not, we have to force the Water Dragon Gang to follow the rules. First they report to the authorities, then they resort to kidnapping. Even if Eighth Brother wins the death match, the Water Dragon Gang will surely have more tricks up their sleeve.”

“Big Brother, sounds like you have a plan,” Lin Xian put down his tea and asked.

“Yes. If Master agrees, I propose that Eighth Brother join the martial trade,” Luo Yanzong said, startling everyone.

“Senior Brother, you can’t drag Master into the trouble between Eighth Brother and me,” Yue Wuhuo said, even though his anger was at its peak.

“Go on,” Lin Xian said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

“The Water Dragon Gang is bullying us precisely because we can’t call on our peers to uphold justice. But if Eighth Brother joins the Cantonese branch, he’ll be a recognized member. That way, we can appeal to the elders of the trade. No matter how powerful the Water Dragon Gang is, they won’t dare offend the Cantonese branch openly. More importantly, Eighth Brother isn’t Master’s disciple, only an apprentice at the hall. Let’s not forget the three-year pact.”

“That’s right! This way, the old ones won’t be able to use this as leverage against Master afterward,” Yue Wuhuo said, his eyes lighting up.

“What do you say, Eighth Brother?”

“Very well,” Kou Li replied without expression, though the corner of his eye twitched now and then, like a hawk’s eye before striking—one could almost see through flesh to the beating heart.

The Water Wolf Gang—such a prize was worth a set of Shadow Step techniques, at least.