Chapter Thirty-Four: Sudden Upheaval

Though Yongle Town was surrounded on three sides by mountains, it bustled with people thanks to its rich deposits of minerals and medicinal herbs. Merchants from both north and south passed through, making the place lively indeed. The Laifu Inn, a large establishment in town, was always filled with a constant stream of guests, lively and spirited. Ever since Liang Yan and Tang Diexian returned from the Kong residence, they spent their days indulging in food, drink, and diversion, blending in seamlessly with the crowds—just like scions from a great family out for a pleasure trip.

Yet no matter how they wandered, within a hundred steps there was always a man in a blue robe, sword at his waist and stubbled beard—a certain Chen Zhuo’an.

“This Chen Zhuo’an has remarkable patience. Even after all these days, he hasn’t made a single move,” Tang Diexian remarked with some discontent.

Liang Yan replied with a soft chuckle, “Chen Zhuo’an is the leader of the Purge Society. If they’re to retrieve the fake imperial edict, he must be the one directing the operation. All we need to do is follow him in secret; sooner or later, we’ll get results.”

“What if he’s making a show of going one way but actually acting in secret? If he sends others to act while we’re here, aren’t we wasting our time?”

Liang Yan shook his head. “No. Don’t forget—this Li Hong they speak of has also sent men to Yongle Town. Chen Zhuo’an’s sole advantage is that he holds the map and can take the initiative. If I were him, I wouldn’t move until I was ready to commit all my forces; splitting up would only allow others to take advantage.”

Tang Diexian glanced at him, as if she wanted to argue further, when suddenly a shout erupted from the street corner: “Robbery! Robbery! In broad daylight—someone’s robbing me!”

Both turned to look. A beggar, hair wild and filthy, was racing down the street with two buns in each hand and several steamed rolls clutched to his chest, a piece of pastry stuffed into his mouth. Behind him chased a middle-aged shopkeeper, red-faced and gasping for breath, calling out after the thief.

Seeing it was only a beggar, no one on the street tried to stop him; instead, they pointed and laughed from the sidelines. The beggar, running wildly, happened by chance to dash straight toward Chen Zhuo’an.

“Out of the way! Don’t block my path!” the beggar shouted, shoving at Chen Zhuo’an in his panic. Chen Zhuo’an sidestepped nimbly, frowning slightly as he watched the beggar’s retreating back.

Liang Yan’s eyes, however, lit up. As the beggar brushed past Chen Zhuo’an, he clearly saw the beggar slip a wad of paper into Chen Zhuo’an’s hand—a move so quick no bystander could have noticed.

“Come on, follow Chen Zhuo’an!” Liang Yan whispered to Tang Diexian.

...

Outside Yongle Town, in a wooded grove.

A charming figure was weaving through the trees—a woman in a pink dress, carrying a plump white cat. This was none other than Hua Shiniang. She hurried along, glancing about warily, as if searching for someone.

Just as she passed through a dense patch of trees, she spotted a man standing in a clearing ahead. He faced away from her, his figure heavyset, but adorned in gold and silver, exuding an air of wealth.

Seeing him, Hua Shiniang seemed to relax, though a faint blush colored her cheeks. She smoothed her hair, set the white cat down, and whispered, “Chuba, go play over there for a while.”

The white cat meowed obediently and scampered off.

Hua Shiniang straightened, gazing at the man’s back. “You big oaf, couldn’t you say whatever you had to say at the inn? Did you really have to call me out to such a secluded place?” Though her words sounded reproachful, there was no true anger in them—if anything, her tone was playful.

“Huh?”

The man seemed surprised. Spinning around, he said, “Shiniang, what nonsense are you talking about? Wasn’t it you who asked me to meet you here, saying you had something important to tell me?”

This man was Wang Bin, who had recently been struck by Tang Diexian’s wine flask. Now, he and Hua Shiniang stood face to face, each regarding the other with wary suspicion.

Both were seasoned adventurers, and instantly, their minds raced. Without a word, they stepped together, standing side by side.

Wang Bin called out loudly, “Who dares to plot against us in secret? Show yourself if you have the courage!”

A voice rang out with a laugh, “Wang the Fat, you’re truly blessed to have won the heart of Hua Shiniang. I must admit, I’m impressed by your methods.”

“Penman!” The two’s eyes narrowed sharply.

A scholar appeared, folding fan in hand, smiling as he strolled from the woods.

“Who would have thought the renowned Penman would become Li Hong’s lackey?” Wang Bin sneered.

Penman chuckled, “A wise man knows when to bend with the times. Chen Zhuo’an is deluded to think he can stand against Lord Li—like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. You two make a fine couple, but you’ve chosen the wrong side. Why not turn from darkness to light, join Lord Li, and enjoy riches beyond measure?”

Wang Bin spat in anger, “Bah! Li Hong’s deeds offend both heaven and man. You’re so hungry for an official post you’d call anyone who gives you one your father!”

The smile faded from Penman’s face, replaced by a sinister glint. “So you refuse the wine in favor of punishment? The map is on Hua Shiniang. I’ll kill you both and search the bodies—no difference to me!”

With a wave of his hand, more than a dozen black-clad assassins leaped from the undergrowth, blades gleaming as they surrounded Wang Bin and Hua Shiniang.

Wang Bin gave a bitter smile, gently saying, “Shiniang…”

But Hua Shiniang drew a soft sword from her waist, her expression resolute. “No more words. This time, you won’t leave me to face it alone. If we live, we live together! If we die, we die together!”

“Excellent! The two of you have always been so reserved, never daring to admit your feelings. I’ll do you this kindness and send you to share a grave—lovers even in death!” With that, Penman drew a Judge’s Pen from his sleeve and struck at Wang Bin, the two instantly locked in combat.

Though Wang Bin rarely showed his skills, he was a master of Eight Trigrams Palm—one of the top experts among the eight hall leaders. Conversely, Penman had neglected his training in recent years, his martial skill diminished as he pursued officialdom. As they fought, Wang Bin quickly gained the upper hand, his powerful palms steadily suppressing Penman’s Judge’s Pen.

Suddenly, a muffled cry came from behind—a woman’s voice. Wang Bin looked back to see Hua Shiniang struck by a black-clad assassin’s sneak attack; a gash at her back gushed blood.

Wang Bin’s eyes went bloodshot. Roaring, “Shiniang!” he sent Penman flying with a palm strike and rushed to her side, intercepting the assassin’s next blow.

Seeing his chance, Penman narrowed his eyes, focused his inner power into a single point, and threw the Judge’s Pen like a dart—not at Wang Bin, but at Hua Shiniang!

Wang Bin, fending off the assassins, kept a wary eye on Penman. The moment he saw the pen fly, his heart clenched with dread. Without thinking, he dove to shield Hua Shiniang.

With a sickening thud, the Judge’s Pen pierced his back and emerged half a span from his chest, just above his heart.

He stood before Hua Shiniang, the light fading quickly from his eyes. He struggled to speak, but lacked the strength. In the end, he simply looked at her one more time, eyes filled with regret and longing, before collapsing backward—his soul departing the mortal world.

“Wang Bin!” Hua Shiniang stared in disbelief, still in shock, rooted to the spot.

A black-clad assassin, seeing her distracted, slashed down mercilessly—but at that instant, a sword like a soaring dragon flashed from the side, knocking the blade aside. Its wielder strode forward, striking with her left hand and sending the assassin flying, blood spraying from his lips.

“Chen Zhuo’an!” Penman cried out in alarm.

“Hmph! Who would have thought a traitor would emerge from within my Purge Society!” Chen Zhuo’an spat.

“Chen Zhuo’an, you’re hopelessly old-fashioned, doomed to destruction. Will you drag your brothers down with you?” Penman replied coldly.

...

Chen Zhuo’an snorted and glanced over at Hua Shiniang, raising his voice, “Shiniang, there’s no bringing back the dead! The urgent matter is to join forces with me and rid ourselves of these traitors, to avenge Brother Wang!”

But Hua Shiniang seemed not to hear, kneeling in a daze beside Wang Bin’s body—as if nothing else in the world existed.

Chen Zhuo’an frowned, sighing inwardly. Penman laughed, “Chen Zhuo’an, even Heaven has abandoned you. If you die here today, you have only yourself to blame!” At his signal, the assassins attacked together.

Though Chen Zhuo’an’s skills were formidable, these assassins were also top-tier killers. As the saying goes, two fists can’t beat four hands—surrounded and beset, he was soon at a disadvantage.

Just as danger closed in, two figures leaped from the forest. One was a young woman in white, wielding the Hundred Flowers Sword, who dove into the fray—no assassin could withstand a single exchange, and she cut them down with ease. The other, a youth in gray, ran straight to Hua Shiniang, pressing a palm to her back.

At his touch, Hua Shiniang coughed up a mouthful of blood, her eyes clearing. These two were, of course, Liang Yan and Tang Diexian, who had trailed Chen Zhuo’an here. Liang Yan had recognized at a glance that Hua Shiniang’s mind was blocked by grief, and using his spiritual power, he cleared her meridians and restored her senses.

Seeing the tide turn, Penman abandoned all thought of completing his mission and fled. But Chen Zhuo’an had anticipated this—pouring all his strength into his sword, he hurled it like a streak of light. The Soaring Dragon Sword pierced Penman through, pinning him to a tree.

Tang Diexian had already finished off the remaining assassins. As the three gathered, Chen Zhuo’an bowed deeply. “Miss Tang, you’ve saved my life more than once. I owe you everything. If you ever require my service, I’ll risk life and limb without a moment’s hesitation.”

Tang Diexian waved him off, saying nothing. The sight of Wang Bin and Hua Shiniang’s tragedy left her deeply saddened, regretful that she hadn’t arrived sooner.

Suddenly Hua Shiniang spoke: “Though my reputation is poor, I have never done anything to wrong Brother Wang.” Chen Zhuo’an nodded silently, understanding her meaning.

A pallor on her face, Hua Shiniang cradled Wang Bin’s body and murmured, “In my heart, I always considered myself yours. But you, blockhead, never understood…” A look of tragic resolve settled onto her features.

She drew a scroll from her clothes and tossed it to Chen Zhuo’an. He caught it and saw it was the hideout map. Realizing her intent, he cried out, “Shiniang, don’t!” But it was too late.

Hua Shiniang seized her soft sword and drove it into her own heart. Blood gushed forth.

Tang Diexian started, rushing forward to seal her wounds and channel spiritual energy, hoping to save her.

But Hua Shiniang gave a wan smile. “It’s no use. My heart is already dead. Living would only bring me greater pain.”

Tang Diexian faltered, her healing hands freezing in place.

Hua Shiniang went on, “After I’m gone, may I trouble you to care for Chuba?”

Tears welled in Tang Diexian’s eyes as she nodded. “Don’t worry, sister. I’ll look after him well.”

Hua Shiniang smiled faintly. “You’re a good girl…” She glanced at Liang Yan. “And so is he…”

Her consciousness faded, breathing growing shallow. As she looked at the young man and woman before her, in her final moments she seemed to return to her youth. She saw before her a chubby, awkward young man, smiling bashfully:

“My name is Wang Bin. May I ask the young lady’s name?”