The weather had no regards for the heroes gathered at Dong Ting, seeing how gloomy the sky was. It was as if something heavily suspended the rain in midair and it could fall down any time. The damp air was chilly and there were less and less fallen leaves.
There was a man standing in the middle of this with sadness, thinking about his hometown. Thirty years seemed like such a long dream.
Cao Chong stepped down to let Abbot Ci Mu take the reins. Zhou Zishu, while hidden in the crowd, heard the young man next to him sighed, “One day I should become someone like him.”
Xiang Yu the Overlord of Western Chu, upon seeing Emperor Shi Huang’s procession, had said, “I am fit to replace him.” Liu Xiu the Emperor Guangwu during his younger years also dazedly lamented, “Palace guard leader is a worthy official title to strive for, just as Yin Lihua is a worthy maiden to wed.” In this vast and obscure world, who wouldn’t want to give it their all and become a legendary hero fit for the history books?
The adolescence years were always full of vitality, so it wasn’t uncommon for someone to look up at a figure, gritting his teeth and clenching his fist while exclaiming “One day, I should become someone like him.”
Someone who had the world in his power.
But what came after the glory?
Zhou Zishu’s Master passed away too soon, leaving the Si Ji Holdings in chaos with a lack of a leader. Just like that, the responsibility fell on his shoulders as he is the Big Senior Brother but how much could a Big Senior Brother really do? He was barely over fifteen that year.
The current Emperor when he was fifteen was still biding his time however he could; Nan Ning Wang when he was fifteen was indulging in wine and pleasure and letting them cloud his senses; even the Great Shaman of South Xinjiang back when he was fifteen was a kid stranded in a foreign land as hostage, full of resentfulness but had no way out.
That’s why Liang Jiuxiao in some ways had become his only solace as they depended on each other to live on.
But since when did the cracks in their relationship appear?
Maybe it was when Liang Jiuxiao visited the capital for the first time and saw the corrupted struggles, saw the increasingly horrible conflicts between families, saw brothers murdering each other in cold blood, saw all the crimes, framings, even deaths of loyal officials—behind all of which was the Big Senior Brother whom he always looked up to–
Gao Chong was already standing up, fiercely condemning the Ghost Valley in front of all the heroes.
Zhou Zishu’s eyes were downcast, as if he was sleeping. Not a single syllable of Liang Jiuxiao’s interrogating words had once left his mind all these years.
“What are you all after, really? Power? The throne? Glory and wealth?”
“Your fate will not end well if you continue down this road, please snap out of it!”
“An eye for an eye is how it is, big brother…”
An eye for an eye? Why should blood be paid back with blood while in this world there were other ways to make people suffer without dying—Zhou Zishu smiled mockingly and thought, Ah, Jiuxiao, we’re both wrong after all.
At that moment, there was a grunt interrupting Gao Chong’s words and Zhou Zishu’s train of thought. The noise sounded like it belonged to a child, but was also strangely raspy. There was internal force underlying Gao Chong’s voice, so it was evident that this person was not your run-of-the-mill type, seeing how they were able to cut him off.
They spoke louder. “Sir Gao, how can you come to the conclusion that the Ghost Valley’s behind all this just with mere words? Isn’t this a little far-fetched?”
Everyone’s gaze was drawn to one spot, not excluding Zhou Zishu. The one who spoke up was a dwarf-like man who was only around a meter tall, currently sitting on the shoulder of another man whose build was the complete opposite. Zhou Zishu could be considered tall compared to the average man, but even he had to crane his neck to look at this giant. His hair was wild and his beard was untamed, only leaving his dark eyes visible. He carried the dwarf with care, using his huge hands to grip the smaller man’s legs to prevent him from falling.
Weren’t these “Earth Lord” Feng Xiaofeng and his wishy-washy friend Gao Shannu?
Their physical attributes were too distinctive, to the point that everyone knew who they were the moment they opened their mouths. There was a glint in Zhou Zishu’s eyes; in fact, he harbored no bad feelings towards this Feng Xiaofeng at all. If the rumors were correct, he was someone with a gray morality and acted on his own emotions rather than following the rules. His physique might also be the one that contributed to his stubborn and unpredictable behaviors.
Except for Gao Shannu to whom he was attached at the hip, he didn’t listen to anyone else. In short, he was difficult.
Feng Xiaofeng’s voice was grating to the ears. “You’re being unreasonable, Sir Gao, with your talk about those “evil-doers” in the Ghost Valley. Of course the Ghosts of Qingzhu Ridge have done a lot of despicable things—they would be decent human beings otherwise. But forgive me for being rude, because with the Valley’s strict rules forbidding people to leave once they enter and preventing the Ghosts from causing mayhem for years, I don’t see why they have to act up right at this moment.”
Gao Chong pursed his lips, his Buddha-like face no longer smiling. His eyes were unnaturally serious, carrying indescribable intimidation. He looked at Feng Xiaofeng for a good while, then asked slowly. “Is that you, Brother Feng? What is your opinion then?”
Feng Xiaofeng sneered, “Spare me all of your niceties. You think I don’t know how you’re calling me “Brother” on the outside but “Dwarf” on the inside? Well this dwarf has heard something through the grapevine and would like to give all you jobless heroes a warning, so that you don’t go and do something embarrassing.”
Zhou Zishu had heard enough to confirm the rumors about this man for himself. Feng Xiaofeng was definitely not the malicious type, he was neutral at worst; but people-pleasing seemed to be non-existent in his vocabulary. Not only was he unpleasant, others would label him a mad dog without a doubt.
There were whispers about how he cut off someone’s tongue after they called him a dwarf. He would even cut the tongue of someone who address him impolitely, and when they did show him politeness he would deem it a lie, a real tough nut to crack.
Gao Chong frowned, but as a renowned hero he had to be courteous and not try to argue with a mad dog. So he asked in a civil manner, “What rumors have you heard, Sir Feng?”
Feng Xiaofeng let out a cruel laugh, sounding not unlike a mystical bird. “Why are you playing dumb, Gao Chong? I may know nothing about Mu Yunge and Yu Tianjie’s case, but do you dare say that the deaths of Zhang Yusen and the Patriarch of Tai Shan have no correlations to the Lapis Armor?”
At this, the expressions of those who were in the know changed immediately as whispers broke out. Zhou Zishu took note of Gao Chong seemingly turn to glance Abbot Ci Mu with a grave expression. In contrast, Monk Gu’s young disciple who was sitting near Gao Chong paid no attention, his posture and attitude resembling a detached immortal.
Zhang Chengling, sitting beside Zhao Jing, sneaked a look at the elder. He saw Zhao Jing’s face turned into a mix of rage, contemplation and something else rather scary after “Lapis Armor” was uttered.
The boy’s impending question was stuck in his throat.
In this relatively short amount of time, he had come to understand a lot of things. Zhang Chengling could see the contempt and pity in people’s eyes and read it in their words – that’s right, how could the famous Sir Zhang Yusen have such a coward for a son? He once heard the Zhao’s servants gossiping in secret about whether it was worth it for hundreds of people to lay down their lives just for a kid.
With him being incompetent in every aspect, how could they expect him to avenge Sir Zhang and rebuild the Zhang family?
They only saw him as a mascot to express their hatred for the Ghost Valley; then they would turn to him and said “Ah, the Zhang orphan. Don’t worry, kid, we will seek justice for your father and family.”
A helpless, pitiful mascot.
Zhang Chengling’s thought strayed to the sickly and quiet man he met in the abandoned shrine that day. Ever since that horrific night, he could never sleep without encountering nightmares, but who would care if he told them? Even uncle Zhao would tell him to straighten his spine and stop it from getting to him; that everyone would stand beside him to avenge the Zhangs. There was no one else who would embrace his shoulders and talked to him softly, that “It’s alright, sleep all you want. I’ll wake you if there’s a nightmare.”
Seeing that chaos had broken out, Feng Xiaofeng’s smirked remained as he requested that Gao Chong gave everyone an explanation about the Lapis Armor. Zhang Chengling lowered his head and was kneading his temples when there was a stealthy rush of wind flew at him, carrying a tiny ball of paper to hit his palm directly. Zhang Chengling startled, and after seeing that no one was noticing him, he bent down and picked up the paper ball.
Written on it was simply: Follow me if you want to know the truth.
When Zhang Chengling looked up, in the crowd there was a man in dark clothes who was staring at him without blinking. A cruel sneer seemed to be hung at the corner of his lips, his gaze dark and disdainful as if he was sure that the boy wouldn’t follow him.
In a blink of an eye, not sure if it was out of being over-emotional or impulsive, Zhang Chengling gripped the note tightly. Taking advantage of the current commotion, he quietly left Zhao Jing’s side and followed the strange man through the crowd.
No one noticed him except for Zhou Zishu.
Zhou Zishu always had half of his attention on Zhang Chengling, and his keen eyes immediately noticed and alarming him of the man shooting the note at the boy. Seeing that Zhang Chengling discarded all notions of danger and went after the man alone, he frowned and immediately abandoned the heroes’ quarrel to chase after the boy in secret.
The man seemed to be toying with him, disappearing as soon as Zhang Chengling followed him; but not long after that, there would be small rocks shooting at him from different directions, apparently mocking his extremely terrible qinggong, like a cat playing with a mouse.
Zhang Chengling gritted his teeth, unconsciously able to pursue further and further. He didn’t have an aptitude for these physical activities, and after he arrived at the Zhao’s Holdings, everyone was too busy about doing heroic deeds to remember to teach him more kungfu. Soon enough, his angry chase left him out of breath and dizzy. He could almost hear the sound of his pulse by the temples.
Never before had the spoiled boy been so angry with himself. He heard someone snort, “This is Zhang Yusen’s brat? What a waste.”
He thought, That’s right, you’re a waste, Zhang Chengling; why did uncle Li risk his life to save you?
Why did it have to be you?
The man then appeared in front of him, hands like claws twisting his neck. His gaze at Zhang Chengling was sinister. When the boy’s body warmth slowly started to disintegrate, he realized they were standing on deserted land.
Shadows appeared seemingly from nowhere behind the man with the same fashion, circling around Zhang Chengling.
The one who led him here laughed quietly and released him. He raised his voice, “My poorly hidden friend, why must you be so worked up over a boy like this?”
A man dressed in deep red stepped forward at that. On his face was a red birthmark, making his features incredibly formidable at first glance.
Zhang Chengling’s legs started to tremble, but he tried his best to keep his chin up and feigned courage at the man in red.
The man suddenly laughed, the dry sound not unlike that from a rusty fan, causing goosebumps to erupt across the skin. In just a blink, he materialized in front of Zhang Chengling and held the boy’s neck. His fingers were cold like a corpse’s, and for a brief moment Zhang Chengling mistook him for an undead.
Then the man asked softly. “Let me ask you: That night at the Zhang’s Holdings, did you see a man with a missing finger?”
Zhang Chengling’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he tried to shake his head.
The man narrowed his eyes, softening his voice even more. “No? Think again, my good boy, did you see him? Or did you not?”
The softer his voice was, the stronger his grip became. Zhang Chengling tried to breathe and struggle out of the grip with all his might, his face reddening; but all of his retaliating punches were futile. He rasped, “Fuck you!”
The man in red seemed not to notice, a demonic smile appearing on his face. “Yes… or no?”
Zhang Chengling felt like his chest was going to burst. He knew this man wanted him to say yes, but right at this life-and-death moment, his stubbornness awoke with a vengeance as he spit on the man’s face. The grip quickly turned crueler, and Zhang Chengling had no more strength to struggle.
The man’s voice was still gentle. “I’m asking you once again: Yes, or no?”
Zhang Chengling was slipping out of consciousness. He thought, This is it…
Suddenly, the man let out a sound of pain and let go of the boy. Air rushed into his lungs and he stumbled backwards, eventually falling on the ground with a “Thud!”, coughing painfully.
The man in red took a few steps back, eyes glancing at the rock that almost broke his wrist with hostility. “Who’s there?”
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