SS CH5

Since ancient times, good and evil have never stood together. People of the Jianghu drew a sharp line between orthodox sects and demonic paths, yet there were always those who crossed the boundary, stepping over worldly lines to live as blatant thorns in the side of society.

Some were swiftly pulled out and crushed to dust, while others dug into flesh and took root until their depths became unfathomable.

The former were mostly reckless fools with grand ambitions but meager skill, aiming for stars while wallowing in ditches, causing at most minor, harmless trouble for prestigious sects that never bothered to take them seriously. After all, the Jianghu was vast enough to accommodate such useless scoundrels.

Yet in this bottomless quagmire of a Jianghu, very few could be considered the latter—so few that looking across the entire realm, only the Hundred Ghosts Sect stood tall like a giant thorn. Not only did they move freely between both light and shadow, claiming both orthodox and evil paths, but they also acted entirely at their own whim, fearing no trouble and proving even better at resolving it.

No one knew how many people inhabited the Jianghu, and naturally, no one knew how many “ghosts” the Hundred Ghosts Sect truly possessed. They had no past and saw no future, yet they lurked in every dark corner of the present, turning into bone-clinging maggots attached to their prey until death.

Intelligence gathering, black-market assassination lists, medical and poison transactions, weapons and hidden armaments… there was nothing they dared not imagine or do. Even if something seemed impossible, it was only because the Sect Master’s mind had been momentarily clouded.

The Hundred Ghosts always left shadows without revealing their faces. Among the few widely rumored across the Jianghu, the Ghost Physician Sun Minfeng was one of them.

“A healer’s benevolent heart, bringing the dead back to life.” The second half of the phrase barely matched Sun Minfeng’s sublime medical skills that dared to contend with gods and ghosts for human lives. As for the first half, applying it to him was a total insult to those words. Anyone seeking his medical aid was likely gambling with their very life.

The reason was simple: a physician cannot heal himself, and Sun Minfeng suffered from an incurable ailment—in his head.

Half-mad, half-sane, and wildly unpredictable.

Leaning against the railing to gaze into the wind and rain, a faint fragrance floated as shadows lingered silently.

Xie Wuyi removed his heavy cloak, sitting opposite his guests in a white robe patterned with black stripes. His gaunt face wore a tight frown, his pale, bluish lips drawn into a thin, blade-like line. Though not overtly aggressive, a bone-chilling coldness radiated from him: “The Ghost Physician’s request is asking the impossible.”

Two people sat across from him. The black-clad youth who had previously exchanged looks with Ye Fusheng was sipping his tea calmly, sitting as steady as a grand Buddha statue on an altar. The other was a plain-robed man appearing around thirty years old, with softly painted eyebrows and light-colored lips, looking exceedingly refined. Yet when he lowered his eyes and curved his lips, a trace of sinister charm leaked out, like a stroke of heavy, vibrant ink splashed across fine blue-and-white porcelain.

Sun Minfeng poured some white medicinal powder into his own teacup, stirring it casually with a silver needle. A refreshing, intoxicating aroma instantly filled the room, rich as wine, yet far more intoxicating.

He drank the strange concoction down in unrefined gulps, smacking his lips with a grin: “Asking the impossible, or sitting around waiting for death—I am not forcing you.”

Xie Wuyi’s hands rested on the corner of the table, his knuckles sharp and blue veins bulging, yet his tone remained faint: “Xie can accept becoming a dead man, but never an invalid.”

Sun Minfeng did not reply, but the black-clad youth beside him raised his head: “I have heard that Manor Lord Xie did not accept the challenge sent by Burial Soul Palace, and the name of Duanshui Manor has yet to appear on the wooden token of the Seizing-Blade Challenge.”

Xie Wuyi expressed no emotion: “Petty villains, unworthy of dirtying my hands.”

“So, is the seat of Duanshui Manor on the Seizing-Blade Challenge to remain empty?” The black-clad youth set down his teacup, his tone playful. “Manor Lord Xie, countless eyes are fixed on the reputation of Duanshui Manor right now. Whether you decline or accept the duel, every move carries immense weight… Sending Miss Xue across thousands of miles to invite the Ghost Physician here—isn’t that the choice you’ve already made? What we want is not much. Is a single Duanshui blade worth more than your life?”

Xie Wuyi: “Yes.”

“Then I want it even more.” The black-clad youth curled the corners of his mouth. “Manor Lord Xie, right now Duanshui Manor is surrounded by formidable enemies. With your current ruined body, can you withstand the open attacks and hidden arrows? The Duanshui blade is heavier than your life, but compared to Duanshui Manor itself, which one is heavier and which is lighter?”

Xie Wuyi looked at him for a moment before picking up the teapot to refill his cup: “This gentleman…”

“My surname is Chu, Chu Xiwei.” The black-clad youth raised his eyebrows, his fingers slowly rubbing the rim of the cup. “I have long heard the title of the Number One Blade Under Heaven. Visiting today, I realize that meeting you falls short of your reputation.”

“In the Jianghu, those who seek fame and undeserved praise are as numerous as carp crossing a river. Xie has never dared to claim the title of ‘Number One’.” Xie Wuyi began to smile slowly, the corners of his eyes lifting slightly and his lips curving, making this thirty-something man appear somewhat charming. Yet his eyes were far too cold, dark and deep, reflecting an icy glint like a blade quietly drawn from its sheath.

“Eighty-two battles in the Western Regions made you famous across the realm, and at the Martial Tournament of Blades and Swords, you defeated all the gathered elites. The former Duanshui cut through the moon’s reflection like a startling swan; now the moon’s reflection is gone and the swan’s song has ended, leaving only Duanshui in this world. If Manor Lord Xie bears an empty title, who else in the Jianghu would dare claim greatness?” Chu Xiwei offered a light smile. “What disappoints me is that you, Manor Lord, can pick it up, yet cannot let it go.”

Xie Wuyi narrowed his eyes: “The Sect Master of Hundred Ghosts indeed knows much, but unfortunately, matters of the world cannot always be kept in one’s palm. Master Chu knows one thing but not the other. Without putting yourself in another’s shoes, it is naturally easy to talk.”

Sun Minfeng finished the rest of the tea and interrupted: “You two, admiring and pitying each other, can stop for a moment. Let us continue our business. Does Manor Lord Xie wish to exchange the Duanshui blade for a chance to rebuild your meridians, or close the doors to send guests away and perish alongside the manor?”

Xie Wuyi said: “Important matters require careful consideration.”

“One, two, three—can you give a careful answer now?”

“Doctor Sun,” Chu Xiwei held his shoulder, “the Grand Martial Assembly begins in seven days. Manor Lord Xie is more anxious than us. Why bother entangling over this brief moment?”

Sun Minfeng ceased speaking, dumping the tea leaves from his cup into his mouth to chew. Xie Wuyi stood up and said: “I will give an answer tomorrow. Chanyi, lead our distinguished guests to Pine Wave Court.”

Just then, a servant ran over in disarray, whispering a few words to Xue Chanyi, who had been waiting outside the door. Anger immediately flared across Miss Xue’s lovely face.

Suppressing her anger, Xue Chanyi signaled the steward to lead the guests away, then walked up to Xie Wuyi, her voice urgent: “Shifu, someone broke into Lingbo Tower and stole the Duanshui blade! The guards have chased them near ‘Wanghaichao’!”

With a crisp crash, the teacup shattered on the floor, and Xie Wuyi’s face instantly chilled.

Guyang City was a mountain town, surrounded by mountains on three sides and facing water on the fourth, home to endless valleys and wild forests. Though Duanshui Manor’s glory had faded, a starved camel was still bigger than a horse. Situated in a remote part of the eastern city, it owned a stretch of mountain peaks spanning ten miles behind it, possessing vast territory. Advancing, it could mingle with the marketplace; retreating, it could roam the wild forests.

“Wanghaichao” was a precipice on the mountain behind Duanshui Manor, steep and rugged with jagged rocks. Beneath the cliff ran a great river with rapidly changing currents—at times churning like roaring waves, at other times quiet and cold as a still pond. A moment of carelessness would result in being swept away by dark currents; even a master swimmer falling into the water would be floating belly-up within moments.

The Duanshui Blade technique drew its meaning from drawing a blade to sever the flow of water. The style’s momentum—both like surging waves and a long, gentle stream—was derived from Wanghaichao, making it the training ground for successive generations of manor lords. Consequently, it became a forbidden area of Duanshui Manor. When a manor lord passed away, their ashes would be buried in the great river, flowing with the water back to heaven and earth.

As the night deepened, the wind and rain grew fiercer, extinguishing torches mere moments after they were lit. The guards of Duanshui Manor finally cornered the thief at the edge of the cliff. It was a man clad in short robes, tightly clutching a sheathed blade. Backing away as the crowd closed in, a loose stone suddenly tumbled over the edge, scaring him into a cold sweat.

Unable to advance or retreat, he was driven into a dead end.

In the pitch-black darkness, Ye Fusheng, half-blind as he was, navigated with ease. His eyes saw clearly in the dark, much like a cat skilled at lurking. He hid silently among the tree branches, his presence quieter than the rain striking the leaves, completely unnoticed by anyone. Perched high up in the large tree, he could not only see the chaos ahead, but also had a full view of the abnormalities on the steep cliff below.

When trouble broke out at Lingbo Tower, he hadn’t bothered to care, simply following a maid toward Xie Li’s courtyard. Upon entering, he found the place silent—the brat was gone.

The missing young manor lord was currently sporting a tense, stern little face, bypassing the chase route of the guards to climb up a steep rock wall along the ridge. The rock wall was close to the cliff, its jagged stones completely concealing his small figure. Had it not been for Ye Fusheng’s night-cat eyes, he really wouldn’t have noticed this little brat heading straight into danger.

He couldn’t manage the affairs of Duanshui Manor, but having accepted a task, he had to fulfill it. If anything happened to the child, Ye Fusheng’s lifetime of fame would be ruined. Though young, Xie Li’s light-body movement was quite decent, moving agilely along the cliff face like a human gecko. To avoid startling the child into falling, Ye Fusheng found a suitable spot to nestle, keeping his eyes glued to the boy’s every move.

After about half a cup of tea’s time, Xie Li finally climbed to the underside of the cliff. Instead of pulling himself up, he used a large rock for leverage to press himself into a hidden nook.

The man at the top was likely stealing for the first time in his life, looking more anxious and embarrassed than a common thief caught in the act. His dark face flushed bright red, yet with nowhere to run, he held tightly to the scabbard, nearly slipping off the cliff several times.

Xue Chanyi finally arrived. Lips pressed tight, she flicked her whip through the air. The man instinctively raised his arm to block, but halfway through realized he was holding the Duanshui blade, forcing himself to turn and take the whip strike across his back.

Xue Chanyi glared: “Bold thief, return the blade!”

The man hissed in pain: “Call your shifu out to talk!”

Though young, Xue Chanyi possessed a fiery temper. Her long whip coiled like a dragon leaping from the water, lunging forward again. The man gritted his teeth and pulled the Duanshui blade from its sheath. The moment the whip wrapped around the blade, he executed a simple slash, severing a section of Miss Xue’s whip!

Perched in the tree, Ye Fusheng shook his head, thinking to himself: Striking a woman and taking advantage of superior weaponry—utterly shameless.

Losing its forward momentum, the whip recoiled heavily against Xue Chanyi’s hand, leaving a bright red lash mark across the back of her palm, tearing the skin. She discarded the whip, reaching for the red sash at her waist, only for a hand to press down on her shoulder.

“Xie is here. What guidance do you have?”

Ye Fusheng, who had been slumping like a boneless mass, slowly sat up straight. As he watched the man step out from the crowd, it felt as though the blood in his body was rushing backward. A violent roar echoed in his brain, bringing sharp pain to his eyes and ears. His fingers twitched unconsciously, digging deep gouges into the tree trunk.

Xie Wuyi held an oiled paper umbrella, dressed in light robes, strolling casually like a schoolteacher. Though the rain poured heavily, only the hem of his fluttering robe was slightly damp. His face was gaunt, yet his eyes shone colder than a blade.

Xue Chanyi stepped back: “Shifu!”

Intimidated by his aura, the man nearly stumbled off the cliff, holding the Duanshui blade with a fierce yet terrified expression. Regardless of how people had criticized Xie Wuyi over the past three years, his current stance and gaze instantly reminded everyone of the Duanshui Manor Lord who had defeated all rivals at the Martial Assembly years ago—looking even more terrifying now.

It was as if a mountain tiger had transformed into a man-eating wolf.

Standing seven paces away, Xie Wuyi repeated: “Xie is here. What guidance do you have?”

The man took a deep breath and said stiffly: “I dare not offer guidance, but only ask the Manor Lord one thing—why did you refuse the Seizing-Blade Challenge?”

In the shadows, Ye Fusheng had just calmed his emotions when he heard this, finding it amusing: The emperor isn’t anxious, but the eunuch is dying of worry.

Xie Wuyi glanced at the man, his gaze landing on his hands: “You use a blade user as well?”

The man puffed out his chest: “Yes! I am…”

“Xie has no interest in knowing who you are,” Xie Wuyi sneered. “Taking without asking makes one a thief. What, do you believe that because Xie did not accept the challenge, I am unqualified to hold the Duanshui blade, so you came to steal it and fight in my place?”

The man stiffened his neck: “So what if I did? Burial Soul Palace is a demonic path that everyone should eradicate. As the Lord of Duanshui Manor, you don’t think of eliminating evil, but instead avoid combat and turn guests away! Do you know how many heroes are grieving over this?”

“How shameless,” a voice called out from the crowd, echoing the exact words in Ye Fusheng’s mind. Rare to find a kindred spirit, he cast a glance at the speaker, recognizing the black-clad guest he had glimpsed earlier.

The Sect Master of Hundred Ghosts loved watching trouble unfold. Stepping out with an umbrella, clad in narrow-sleeved black robes, his handsome face appeared dangerously sharp, a mocking arch on his lips: “I have seen little of the world, yet seeing such shameless behavior spoken of so grandly truly expands my horizons. My thanks to this gentleman for the personal demonstration.”

His words were blunt, but seeing Chu Xiwei’s delicate, handsome face, the brute lost his temper and barked: “What kind of thing are you?”

Chu Xiwei smiled, lowering his eyes with a sinister, ghost-like aura that sent a chill down the spines of those watching.

Ye Fusheng withdrew his gaze, thinking to himself: An old demon wrapped in delicate skin.

“Enough,” Xie Wuyi waved his hand, his eyes sharp as lightning. “What do you want?”

“Burial Soul Palace is arrogant, having seized four famed blades of the martial world, infuriating all righteous heroes,” the man shouted. “Manor Lord Xie, if you accept the challenge token to fight for the righteous path and prove that Duanshui Manor’s name is not empty, I will return the blade! Otherwise, I will pass it to another hero so Burial Soul Palace does not act unchecked!”

“Good, good, good…” Xie Wuyi uttered three times, his face expressionless. Everyone around felt a chill on their necks, as if a steel blade had brushed past.

The paper umbrella in his hand suddenly spun, scattering raindrops that lashed at the man’s face. The man bent down to dodge, but Xie Wuyi lunged forward with his palm, joining his fingers like a blade, bringing them inches from his throat!

The man drew the blade to block, but when Xie Wuyi’s finger struck the blade, the recoil knocked the man backward. Standing at the edge of the cliff, he didn’t even have time to utter a sound before falling backward. Xie Wuyi frowned, turning his palm into a claw to catch him, but a ruthless gleam flashed in the man’s eyes. He forcibly twisted away, plunging down the cliff along with the blade.

Almost simultaneously, a tiny figure leaped down right after him. In a split second, Xie Li kicked the man’s hands away, hooking his foot to catch the Duanshui blade in his grip. Yet he was too young and had exhausted his strength earlier; he failed to land stably. Had he not grabbed a rock in time, he wouldn’t be dangling beneath the cliff top like dried meat, but falling into the river to feed the fish.

It all happened in a flash, stunning everyone present. Xue Chanyi went pale with fright: “A-Li!”

Xie Wuyi’s expression shifted, and he moved to jump down without thinking, only to be yanked back by someone—Chu Xiwei leaped down past him.

However, it was too late. The rock in Xie Li’s hand snapped with an unbearable crack, and the boy plummeted straight down.

Even now, he clung tightly to the Duanshui blade, refusing to let go.

Chu Xiwei’s hand came within an inch of reaching him, managing only to tear off a piece of his sleeve. Before he could frown, a sky-blue figure flashed past his eyes, moving so fast that he couldn’t even make out what it was.