Chapter 44: The Blazing Great River
Watching the rain of arrows that filled the sky, Ning Xiu’s expression darkened.
“Ning Elder!”
Before Yuan Hao beside him could finish his words, Ning Xiu had already shot toward the Fengshui Creek like an arrow released from a bow.
The “Eight Steps to Catch the Cicada” movement technique was displayed to its utmost in that instant. Nearing the creek bank, Ning Xiu tapped the tip of his toe lightly, his entire figure soaring into the air.
Swish!
A flash of cold blade light burst forth, forming a half-circle that swept aside all the arrows aimed at him.
As he descended, he barely touched the water’s surface, and his figure flew onward again. Each light step carried him more than ten meters forward.
On the opposite bank, the Iron Sword Sect’s archers had just finished nocking new arrows. Ning Xiu looked at them with indifference, raised his hand, and swept his blade.
As the blade gleamed, several heads flew skyward, blood spurting like a fountain. Ning Xiu tapped the air and landed safely on the far side.
Such a flawless display of agility—Ning Xiu would never have been able to achieve it in the past.
“So fast!”
From the distant hillside, Yuan Hao stared at Ning Xiu, so stunned that his jaw nearly dropped.
He realized he couldn’t keep up with Ning Xiu’s tempo at all. In the span of just a few breaths, the blade’s glow vanished on the opposite bank, and every Iron Sword Sect disciple had been beheaded.
Yuan Hao urged his horse to the bank, and by the time he arrived, Ning Xiu had already returned from across the creek.
Though Ning Xiu had acted swiftly, many still suffered wounds from the first wave of arrows. Blood flowed into the creek, disappearing in an instant, while cries of pain and anguish filled the air.
Ning Xiu glanced at the scene and spoke, “Notify the brothers to come and evacuate the wounded. Until this matter is resolved, no unauthorized persons are to approach Fengshui Creek.”
“Yes, sir!”
...
He had killed Iron Sword Sect’s men; they would surely seek revenge. In the coming days, if any gold-seekers still dared to venture here, they would only have themselves to blame for courting death.
Yet that was not his main concern at the moment. For reasons he could not explain, Ning Xiu felt a faint unease deep within—a warrior’s intuition.
Returning to Yufeng Town, led by Yuan Hao, Ning Xiu met with many of the town’s elders.
...
But nearly all of them kept tight-lipped about the Fengshui Creek shipwreck of years past. In the end, with no other choice, Ning Xiu had Yuan Hao bring the elders to him and applied some persuasive methods. Only then did he piece together the outline of the old shipwreck incident.
A wealthy merchant from Jiangling, while traveling the Fen River, was attacked by river bandits. In panic, he steered his large boat into Fengshui Creek, only for the vessel to be destroyed and all aboard to perish.
Yet incidents like this happened almost daily throughout Great Qian. Why, then, did a vengeful spirit form here, and why only after more than twenty years had passed?
Ning Xiu could not make sense of it. He would have to wait until nightfall and investigate the riverbank himself.
On the other side, in Guhuang Town, at the Iron Sword Sect’s branch.
Bodies were carried in, covered with white cloth, and sent out again.
The grand hall was silent.
All eyes cautiously watched the scholarly-looking middle-aged man standing at the center.
Even the newly transferred Sword Elder, a high-ranking sect member, was wary—he understood all too well the terror this man inspired.
His robes were neat, his age around forty, skin still fair, his bearing refined—he looked more like a failed scholar than a martial artist.
“Soul-Calling Scholar” Song Gaoju, the Iron Sword Sect’s second-in-command, and sworn brother to the sect’s master, “Iron Sword” Li Tiexin.
Song Gaoju and Li Tiexin complemented each other, one in the shadows, one in the light, together holding up the Iron Sword Sect as one of the four great powers of southern Lingnan.
Unlike the river bandit gangs such as the Great River Society, the Iron Sword Sect at least maintained the appearance of an upright orthodox sect. Many tasks Li Tiexin could not be seen to do, so they all fell to Song Gaoju.
Glancing at the assembly, Song Gaoju suddenly spoke. “Who did you say the Bamboo Grove Society sent this time? Ning Xiu?”
“Yes, that’s him. I hear he’s just been promoted to Elder, taking over old Yan Song’s seat,” the Sword Elder replied.
“A young man ascending so quickly—does he mean to make an example out of our Iron Sword Sect to establish his authority in the Bamboo Grove Society?”
A faint smile curled on Song Gaoju’s lips. “One good turn deserves another. Go make your preparations. Tonight, I intend to present Elder Ning with a generous gift.”
...
Tonight the darkness was deep and the world was hushed.
A moonless, windy night—perfect for murder.
Song Gaoju stood at the riverbank, a cold, bloodthirsty smile playing on his lips.
The assault boats were ready; at his signal, they would launch a full attack on the opposite shore.
...
“Xiao Wanli, that hypocrite, probably still thinks I’m in Lingnan at this moment…” Standing on the boat, Song Gaoju couldn’t hide his smugness—nor did he try.
With a feint to the east and a secret move to the west, the Iron Sword Sect’s second-in-command had slipped past the Bamboo Grove Society’s watchful eyes and arrived here in secret.
A grandmaster at the peak of the First Grade—enough to sway the outcome of this battle.
“Sect Master Song, look—what is that?!”
A hushed cry snapped Song Gaoju back to the present.
He frowned, displeased, about to rebuke the speaker, when his expression froze. His eyes fixed on a riverboat slowly emerging from the darkness.
It was a massive merchant vessel, three stories high, its sides festooned with red lanterns. The night wind made the lanterns sway, like blood-red eyes gleaming in the dark.
Someone on board was singing—words indistinct, but the melody carried a profound sorrow.
“Who’s on that boat? Stop at once!” the Iron Sword Sect men shouted harshly.
But the vessel sailed on, heedless.
The distance between the merchant ship and the assault boats shrank. Though fog still clung to the great boat, Song Gaoju and his men could now make out the scene aboard.
A flash of shock crossed Song Gaoju’s eyes. Without the slightest hesitation, he turned and fled.
His toe tapped lightly on the small boat, and he soared into the air, racing back the way he had come.
He was using the remarkable “Swallow’s Triple Water Skip” technique.
The moment he left, the merchant vessel smashed violently into the assault boats, splintering seven or eight of them at once and sending the Iron Sword Sect men tumbling into the river.
This scene unfolded before Ning Xiu’s distant eyes.
He had believed that, since this riverboat was a ghost ship, it would be incorporeal. Yet it had collided with the real assault boats—strange enough. What happened next was even more unexpected.
The entire great river suddenly burst into flames.