Chapter 43: The Gold Prospector

Under the cold, clear moonlight, a riverboat drifted silently from the distance. In the cabin sat an elderly woman, frail and hunched, on a rosewood chair. Her gaunt, withered face was covered in scars, and she was missing an eye, making her appear all the more fearsome and grotesque. Yet, flanking her were two exceptionally beautiful young women—one on the left, refined and demure, like a noble lady, the other on the right, bold and spirited, brimming with vitality. Such a trio would seem out of place anywhere, let alone beneath the moon on this deserted night. Ning Xiu could not help but feel a chill run down his spine.

At that moment, the old woman on the boat seemed to notice Ning Xiu; the one eye she had suddenly opened, gleaming with a piercing light. Sensing danger, Ning Xiu was about to react when a thick fog rolled over the Fengshui Creek. When the fog lifted, the great riverboat had vanished as if it had never been there; such a massive vessel seemed to have evaporated into thin air. Ning Xiu frowned, convinced that the events at Fengshui Creek were the work of supernatural forces—for what had just occurred was impossible by human means alone.

“A ghost ship?” he murmured softly to himself, before spurring his horse onward toward Yufeng Town.

…

By the time Ning Xiu arrived at the Bamboo Grove Branch in Yufeng Town, several hundred people had already been waiting for him. Having accepted Yan Song’s position, all the territory and subordinates under his command now fell to Ning Xiu as well. He had sent word ahead before setting out that day. Still, he hadn’t expected them to remain assembled at the branch even at this late hour.

Gazing at the sea of black heads in the courtyard, Ning Xiu turned his eyes to the young man at the front and spoke. “Yuan Hao?”

“Your humble servant Yuan Hao greets Elder Ning,” Yuan Hao said with a deep bow.

“Greetings, Elder Ning!” With his cry, a thunderous chorus echoed through the courtyard.

“You’ve all worked hard. Go and rest,” Ning Xiu said, his voice resonant and clear, infused with true power, easily overwhelming the waves of sound.

Seeing this, Yuan Hao’s expression grew even more respectful. He was but a minor leader, yet to him, Ning Xiu was an elder—whether acting or permanent, it was all the same.

“Thank you for your concern, Elder,” Yuan Hao replied.

Under Yuan Hao’s command, the crowd quickly dispersed until only the two of them remained.

“Elder Ning, your room is prepared. All necessities will be delivered shortly by a maid,” Yuan Hao said cautiously.

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.” As Ning Xiu walked forward, he asked, “How are things at the branch now?”

“Recently, the fighting has been fierce. We’ve lost many brothers. Now, only about two hundred remain, but they are all trustworthy,” Yuan Hao replied.

“And what of the Iron Sword Sect?”

“According to our spies, the Iron Sword Sect is faring no better. However, word has it their headquarters will soon send a Sword-bearing Elder to handle the situation.”

“A Sword-bearing Elder…” Ning Xiu nodded. “Enough, you must be tired. Go and rest. There’s no need to attend me further.”

“Yes, sir!” Yuan Hao bowed deeply and withdrew.

The power of the Bamboo Grove Society matched that of the Iron Sword Sect, so the latter’s Sword-bearing Elder could be no stronger than peak second rank—not enough to threaten Ning Xiu as he was now. His thoughts, however, kept returning to the ghostly riverboat he had seen at Fengshui Creek.

…

The next morning, Yuan Hao awaited Ning Xiu outside his door at dawn.

Seeing Yuan Hao’s respectful demeanor, Ning Xiu said, “Let’s go. Take me to Fengshui Creek.”

“Should we bring more men?” Yuan Hao hesitated but asked. Although he’d witnessed Ning Xiu’s strength last night, Fengshui Creek was dangerous, and a clash with the Iron Sword Sect could happen at any moment.

“No need. Too many would only cause trouble.”

As the first light crept over the horizon, two fine horses sped out of Yufeng Town toward Fengshui Creek. After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, Ning Xiu once again saw the river he had crossed the night before. On its banks were several indistinct figures.

Drawing closer, he saw they were village women panning for gold along the river.

“Did you send them here?” Ning Xiu asked, frowning.

Hearing the displeasure in Ning Xiu’s tone, Yuan Hao explained carefully, “Though we fight the Iron Sword Sect constantly, neither side has stopped the gold panning. After all, it’s real gold. There’s always danger; no one knows when the other side might attack. But we’ve made sure these workers understand the risks before coming…”

At that, Yuan Hao fell silent. It was their own choice, driven by the need to earn more money and survive.

Ning Xiu was quiet for a moment before saying, “In future, assign more men to keep watch. Monitor the Iron Sword Sect’s movements and do your best to ensure the gold panners’ safety.”

“Yes, sir!” Yuan Hao replied loudly, relieved Ning Xiu hadn’t forbidden the practice outright. The gold was a vital source of income for the branch—many brothers depended on it for their livelihood.

“Are there usually riverboats passing through here?” Ning Xiu asked, sitting tall in his saddle, gazing toward the distant Fengshui Creek.

“Riverboats?” Yuan Hao was stunned for a moment before answering, “Fengshui Creek is shallow—large vessels simply can’t pass. You might see a few fishing boats, but with our recent clashes with Iron Sword Sect, even the fishermen have fled.”

Ning Xiu had sensed something was off when he saw the riverboat the night before—now he understood why.

“Over twenty years ago, a large cargo ship somehow entered these waters and ran aground,” Yuan Hao recalled.

“Even knowing how shallow it is, a large ship came here?” Ning Xiu pressed.

“Fengshui Creek connects to the Fen River. I heard that ship had sailed all the way from there. But it was so long ago—I was just a youth then, not yet a member of the Bamboo Grove Society, so I don’t know all the details.”

Ning Xiu trusted his instincts: this must be linked to the ghost ship he had seen the previous night. The specifics, however, would have to be learned from the elders of the area.

Just as Ning Xiu was about to turn his horse to leave, a sudden whistling sound cut through the air from afar.

Looking up, his expression changed.

A rain of arrows shot forth from the opposite bank of Fengshui Creek, their targets the group of women panning for gold by the water.