SS CH4

Night fell, wrapping the vast sky in pitch-black ink as torrential rain poured down. Across the streets and alleys of Guyang City, not a single soul was in sight, every household shuttered and locked tight.

In the backyard of Duanshui Manor, the rhythmic sound of chopping persisted. A ten-year-old boy clad in black short-sleeved robes stepped through crude, complex footwork, continuously swinging an oversized wooden knife at a stone pillar as tall as a man.

His childish face was fixed in cold determination. Though soaked to the skin and his tiger’s mouth reddened from the recoil, he kept swinging his blade in an orderly rhythm. The stone pillar was densely covered with shallow white marks, with spiderweb-like cracks breaking through in some places.

A man wearing a fox-fur trimmed cloak stood beneath the corridor, watching the boy train in the rain with cold eyes. Suddenly, he flicked his wrist, sending a walnut flying through the veil of rain to strike the child’s weapon wrist. The force sent a shock through the boy’s hand. Unable to hold on with his torn palm, the wooden knife slipped from his grip. His eyelashes trembled as he bent down to retrieve it, only for another walnut to strike his knee. He stumbled forward, barely catching himself on the stone floor to avoid falling flat on his face.

From under the eaves, the man called out coldly: “Get in here.”

With the wooden knife strapped to his back, the boy emerged dripping wet like a water monkey crawling out of a river. He stood before the man and respectfully called out, “Father.”

“Xie Li, I have told you many times… the greatest flaw for a martial artist is a weak grip and an unstable foundation. You have practiced for three years, yet you haven’t made an ounce of progress. Embarrassing!” The man possessed sword-like eyebrows and star-like eyes, yet his face was drained by sickness, punctuated by frequent coughs. Though barely past thirty, an aura of weary death lingered between his brows.

This was the master of Duanshui Manor, Xie Wuyi.

Xie Wuyi’s wife had passed away from illness two years ago, leaving behind only Xie Li. By logic, he should have cherished the boy as the apple of his eye. In reality, however, this “apple” was treated more like scraps discarded by a butcher, or a flawed trinket taken in by a blind pawnbroker.

Rising earlier than roosters and sleeping later than dogs, reading and martial arts hung over the boy’s head like an inescapable mountain. It had been manageable in earlier years, but these past two years felt like absolute torment. Ever since his accident, Xie Wuyi’s temperament had grown volatile and erratic, treating his son with extreme harshness. At times, even the manor servants couldn’t bear to watch, but who were they to gossip about the shifu’s child?

Xie Li swallowed his words, remaining silent like a quiet toad. Xie Wuyi scolded him a few more times before flicking his sleeves, walking away with a face full of disgust and impatience.

Once he had left, Xie Li raised his right hand, staring at the purple walnut mark on his wrist. Feeling the throbbing pain and tremor in his joints, he silently rubbed it, keeping his mouth shut despite a heart full of grievances.

A soft flurry of footsteps approached as Xue Chanyi arrived with a silk handkerchief to wipe his face, sighing softly: “Scolded again?”

Xie Li remained as silent as a sealed gourd, but someone behind Xue Chanyi chimed in: “Poor thing, your shifu’s methods aren’t quite humane.”

The child’s face turned pale as he realized Xue Chanyi had brought a stranger. The man wore a sky-blue narrow-sleeved robe, bound at the waist with an indigo silk belt. With dark hair falling over his shoulders and refined features, he appeared close in age and stature to Xie Wuyi, yet lacked that withered decay, carrying instead an easygoing demeanor.

Half an hour ago, Ye Fusheng had tidied himself up, stepping into Duanshui Manor empty-handed. Armed with a silver tongue and an unshakeable thickness of skin, he had followed Miss Xue around, eyeing the scenery. Just as he planned to sneak off to the kitchen for a late-night snack, Xue Chanyi heard her shifu scolding her shidi again and rushed over in distress. Her lovely face was taut with anger, but since the one lashing out was her shifu, she could hardly swing her whip at him. She could only sigh while helping Xie Li rub out the bruise.

Though only sixteen, Miss Xue was already famous throughout Guyang City as a fierce, formidable young woman. Few had ever witnessed this gentle, protective side of her over the years. Ye Fusheng found it novel, and seeing the boy’s stubborn temper amusing, he offered a light banter. To his surprise, Xie Li suddenly pulled a stony, wooden face identical to his father’s, declaring sternly: “Outsiders are not permitted in Duanshui Manor! Who are you to speak so disrespectfully of the Manor Lord?”

Oho! Ye Fusheng’s eyes crinkled with amusement as he leaned down to eye level: “I am the newcomer your Sister Xue invited back in a grand sedan chair.”

Xie Li: “…”

Xie Chanyi grit her teeth: “Ye Fusheng! What absolute nonsense are you spouting?”

“Fine, no sedan chair, but I am indeed a newcomer.” Ye Fusheng waved a hand, miraculously producing a small oil-paper parcel filled with neatly cut candy blocks.

Before Xue Chanyi could react, a piece of candy was popped into her mouth, filling it with the rich fragrance of sweet osmanthus. Her impending scolding was choked back down. Her almond eyes glared, but the shameless man simply offered a pleasing, apologetic smile: “Do not take offense, Miss. I apologize. This osmanthus candy is freshly made—eat one to sweeten your lips, and don’t let anger ruin your graceful tone.”

Xue Chanyi crunched the osmanthus candy furiously, as if chewing on someone’s bones, though the tips of her ears slowly flushed red. Xie Li watched, completely dumbfounded. His young mind had never encountered sweet coaxing, and having an earful of sugary talk dumped on him left him utterly lost.

Taking advantage of his slightly parted mouth, Ye Fusheng popped a piece into his as well. A sharp spice mixed with sweet aroma burst inside his mouth, causing Xie Li’s face to flush bright red. Yet his strict upbringing forced him to hold back the urge to spit it out, struggling to chew and swallow it down. Watery mist welled up in his eyes, making him look pitiful.

Xue Chanyi: “…What did you give him to eat?”

“Candy, of course.” Ye Fusheng looked righteous, then added: “Ginger candy. He’s been standing in the rain for so long—how could he not eat some ginger candy to ward off the cold?”

Xue Chanyi sighed in defeat, patting Xie Li’s head before leaning down to tell him: “A-Li, go back to your room to bathe and change first. I still have words with this fellow.”

Xie Li took a deep breath to wash away the spicy sweetness in his mouth, keeping his face stiff as he asked: “Who is he?”

“A new guard I hired, don’t worry.”

Only then did Xie Li turn and trot away with short steps. Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes as he watched him leave, remarking with a sigh: “An obedient child, just a bit too solemn for his age.”

“Shifu has always been strict with him.” Xue Chanyi pinched the space between her brows, saying, “I have already spoken with the steward. As long as you don’t break the rules or cause trouble, you may move freely about the manor without minding anyone’s mood.”

“Given such generous treatment by you, Miss, what is it that I ought to do?”

Xue Chanyi looked up at him: “I arranged all this for you so that you would look after A-Li on my behalf.”

Ye Fusheng asked, “Does the young master of Duanshui Manor truly need the protection of a wandering vagabond like me?”

Setting aside the guards and disciples in the manor, could Xie Wuyi himself not protect his own son?

If that were truly the case, then this “Number One Blade Under Heaven”… was indeed due for a change of hands.

Instead of answering directly, Xue Chanyi countered: “When you entered the city today, did you notice anything?”

“I saw many people—Jianghu people.” Ye Fusheng smiled, popping an osmanthus candy into his own mouth. “All walks of life, a mixed bag of dragons and snakes. The inns nearby are packed to the brim. It took quite some effort to bribe a waiter into giving me a woodshed to heat some water for a bath.”

Hearing this, Xue Chanyi sneered coldly: “Pressing closer step by step, like maggots on a corpse—infuriating!”

Ye Fusheng swallowed the rest of the candy, his speech somewhat slurred: “Are they coming for the manor… or Manor Lord Xie?”

Xue Chanyi’s voice turned icy: “They are coming for the ‘Number One Blade Under Heaven’.”

Ye Fusheng chewed his mouth full of sweet candy without making a sound.

Xue Chanyi took a deep breath and asked: “Have you ever heard of a person named Li Feng?”

Ye Fusheng drawled slowly: “If you mean the Li Feng of Burial Soul Palace at Mizong Ridge, then yes, I’ve heard of him.”

Since ancient times, orthodox sects and demonic paths have stood opposed. While the righteous path boasted four major sects, the evil faction was no less formidable. In the southwestern border lay a deep, winding valley stretching for hundreds of miles, riddled with complex terrain and swirling miasma—so tricky that even birds struggled to find a way out, earning it the name “Mizong”. And within this deep ridge lurked the leader of today’s demonic path: Burial Soul Palace.

Burial Soul Palace was like a miniature Jianghu in itself. Aside from renegade martial artists and heinous criminals, it sheltered foreign outcasts who lost their homes in wars, and even descendants of disgraced officials who fell from power. People from all strata of life congregated there, forming a chaotic mix. Once they entered Burial Soul Palace, they became like snakes, bugs, rats, and ants sinking into a mire—lurking in the swamps to spy on the world, while severing their ties to the past, serving from then on as nothing more than hounds of Burial Soul Palace.

A hound, naturally, had no name; those who earned a name were vicious dogs valued by their master.

Li Feng, twenty-five years old, oversaw the Azure Dragon Hall of Burial Soul Palace. An orphan adopted early on by the Palace Master, he was now one of his most capable subordinates. To be targeted by him was like being hunted by the fiercest wolf on the plains.

Xue Chanyi pursed her lips: “Burial Soul Palace has historically been active along the southwestern border. Though they have strongholds in the Central Plains, they rarely cause major waves. Over the past two years, as border conflicts intensified, the power of Burial Soul Palace expanded further, and now they have begun shifting their focus to the Central Plains.”

“The martial arts factions in the Central Plains are intricate and tangled, with endless debts between righteous and evil paths. If Burial Soul Palace makes a reckless move, it might trigger a total war. So they need to slaughter a chicken to… ah, pui, make an example of someone to intimidate the rest.” Ye Fusheng coughed twice, thumping his painful, numb right leg as he shook his head. “Duanshui Manor is a major lineage of the Central Plains, and Manor Lord Xie is the renowned ‘Number One Blade Under Heaven’. By right, he should be a tough nut to crack, but sadly…”

Xue Chanyi said coldly: “Sadly, after what happened three years ago, the whole Jianghu thinks my shifu is ruined, and that the ‘Number One Blade Under Heaven’ is now nothing more than an empty title. This time, Burial Soul Palace convened the Grand Martial Assembly, intending to seize the seven famed blades of the righteous path to showcase their power. Duanshui is the fifth.”

Ye Fusheng asked, “So, are the Jianghu rumors true, or are they mere baseless slander?”

Xue Chanyi remained silent, her eyes fixed tightly upon him. After a long pause, she said: “Ye Fusheng, you are a clever man, and a perceptive one.”

What a muddy, troubled pool of water, Ye Fusheng sighed inwardly. “A drop of favor deserves a gushing spring in return. I thank Miss Xue for her trust and will not fail your request.”

“Since you promised me, you must deliver.” Xue Chanyi raised her chin, displaying her usual overbearing aura, her gaze turning piercing and menacing: “If anything happens to A-Li, even if you hide underground, I will dig up your ancestral graves for eighteen generations and scatter your ashes to the wind!”

—”What you promised me, you must fulfill, or I will not rest in peace even in death.”

The two voices merged into a single line, like a sharp blade thrusting viciously into Ye Fusheng’s heart. A loud buzzing echoed in his brain, and everything before his eyes blurred and swayed into chaos once more. His right leg throbbed with excruciating pain. His face drained of color instantaneously as he instinctively clutched his chest—right where the brocade pouch and the jade pendant rested.

“What’s wrong with you?” Xue Chanyi noticed something was amiss and reached out to support him. Unexpectedly, the groggy rogue fumbled blindly and accidentally brushed against her waist. Miss Xue’s almond eyes flared—she nearly dumped him straight onto the ground.

Yet the culprit maintained a pure, innocent, and frail expression, looking as if he were critically ill and about to spit blood: “Cough… cough… My apologies, I couldn’t see clearly.”

Xue Chanyi ground her teeth: “The Grand Martial Assembly begins in seven days. Over the next few days, people from various sects will surely arrive in Guyang City, and Duanshui Manor cannot turn guests away at the door. Since your eyes are poor, half-blind as you are, stay close to A-Li without stepping out of line, and don’t cause trouble to avoid offending people you can’t afford to cross.”

Upon hearing this, Ye Fusheng let out a yawn and spread his hands: “In that case, Miss, please have someone lead me to the Young Manor Lord’s quarters. The night is long, and I am quite tired.”

Miss Xue felt her hands twitch, the long whip at her waist itching for action.

Right at that moment, the sound of horse hooves echoed from afar as a carriage came to a stop at the front gates.

At such a late hour, in such a volatile place…

Xue Chanyi instructed a servant to lead him to the back courtyard while she hurried toward the front entrance to receive the guests. Ye Fusheng narrowed his eyes. Fortunately, passing into the inner courtyard required walking through a long corridor. Borrowing the glow of the lanterns under the eaves, he looked back just in time to see Xue Chanyi stepping forward to greet a party of people. The leader was just pulling back his paper umbrella, revealing his face.

He looked quite young, yet completely lacked the rashness or foolishness of a greenhorn. Clad in black robes, his face appeared excessively pale in contrast. With eyebrows like sharp blades and eyes deep as dark pools, his features were strikingly handsome, while his thin lips were vivid crimson—resembling a blade coated in fatal poison.