Zhou Ziru prided himself on his deep knowledge of military treatises and his ability to skillfully apply them in worldly affairs. Over the years, he had never tasted defeat. He had not only become the chief strategist of his father, an experienced vice-commander of the border garrison, but had also personally orchestrated traps that led many notorious outlaws to their downfall at border checkpoints. The accumulated rewards for these captures amounted to more than two thousand taels of silver. Ignoring his father’s reluctance, Zhou Ziru distributed most of the silver to the soldiers of Daomaguan who risked their lives serving the father and son. Although he was the most prominent young master within the confines of the border pass, he maintained a good reputation among the people because he never exploited those close to him.
This time, his large-scale operation against the Yulong Gang was a sudden decision. Three days ago, several rough men from Lanzhou approached one of Zhou Ziru’s friends, treating him to a banquet of wine and revelry. During the feast, they expressed their intent to eliminate a man named Xiao Qiang from the Yulong Gang. Initially, Zhou Ziru had no intention of getting involved in this martial feud. However, those martial artists proved efficient and decisive—they captured a fugitive bandit who had fled to the vicinity of Daomaguan and handed him directly to Zhou Ziru. Seeing that all they required was for the Yulong Gang to stay overnight in Daomaguan and that he wouldn’t have to personally engage in dirty work, Zhou Ziru agreed. However, when the Yulong Gang arrived, they unexpectedly presented a private letter bearing the seal of a former arms inspector from Beiliang, catching Zhou Ziru completely off guard. He immediately regretted getting involved with these reckless martial fools. Yet, Zhou Ziru deeply understood the value of his hard-earned reputation as a man of his word in Daomaguan, and he was unwilling to let it be tarnished. Thus, he reluctantly took on the role of the villain, blocking the Yulong Gang’s path. Secretly, however, he had already prepared for the worst—if a violent clash erupted between the two factions, he would send his trusted men to intervene, ensuring the situation did not spiral out of control.
But an encounter with a woman wearing a sable-trimmed headscarf during the evening changed Zhou Ziru’s initially cautious approach. After a secret conversation with this familiar patron of Daomaguan, he resolved to make the Yulong Gang suffer a significant loss. He intended to collect the debts owed by the martial world while also seizing the profits from the goods belonging to the Yulong Gang. Of course, he had no intention of openly provoking the General, who was now a nominal military official. Instead, he planned to personally lead a group to finalize this transaction in Beiman, with the sable-trimmed woman serving as the intermediary. Once the deal was done, he would ensure that the former arms inspector received every copper coin he was due—or even more. In this way, Zhou Ziru would also establish a connection with the former arms inspector. As for the lives and fortunes of the Yulong Gang’s thirty-odd members, Zhou Ziru could only offer a few silent apologies.
Moreover, his ambitions extended far beyond this dual-purpose plan!
Sitting atop his horse with an expression of calm indifference, Zhou Ziru subtly raised his hand. In response, a rough-voiced man in one of the inn’s rooms immediately shouted, “Grandfather got cornered here today—call it bad luck. But I’ve got thirty-something good brothers from the Yulong Gang ready to fight for me. Who dares come forward to seek death? Grandfather will call him a hero!”
Most of the Yulong Gang members were gathered by the windows, watching the spectacle unfold. They had assumed they were safely removed from the conflict and were anticipating an entertaining scene of soldiers capturing bandits. But when they heard these words, they nearly spat blood onto the windowpanes. Who the hell was this cursed bandit? Several hot-headed young members reached for their swords, ready to hunt down this unknown bastard. Before they could leave the room, the second leader, Xiao Qiang, and the gang steward intervened, gathering everyone into three adjacent rooms next door and forbidding anyone from taking action. The Yulong Gang had never been a gang that could afford to live comfortably off the wealth of others. Its members were well-versed in the schemes of the martial world, and even the dullest among them now realized they had fallen into a trap. They dared not breathe too loudly. If this were merely a gang feud, none of them would have feared, but the cavalry and armored soldiers outside were enough to make anyone tremble with fear. Even if they survived by some miracle, the accusation of killing government troops would be enough to destroy the Yulong Gang’s future in the martial world of Beiliang.
Liu Nirong, her face pale, approached a room and steadied her breathing before knocking on the door. She had acted decisively, entering this deadly trap without even bringing Master Gongsun Yang. Alone and with great sincerity, she wanted to see who was behind dragging the Yulong Gang into this abyss. She hoped these people were only after money, but deep in her heart, she knew that silver would not resolve this night’s crisis. Suddenly, she felt a sharp blade burst through the door. She could clearly see the faint line of the blade as it passed within an inch of her face!
The attacker, failing to land a hit, swiftly retracted the blade and kicked the door hard. Before Liu Nirong could fall, she slapped the ground with one hand, twisted her body, and dodged the flying door, standing in the corridor with a furious expression. She saw a young man leaning lazily against the doorframe, his sword resting on his shoulder, grinning as he sniffed the air. “Didn’t expect such a delicate little lady. I’d have been gentler if I’d known.”
Liu Nirong suppressed her anger and asked as calmly as she could, “Why are you framing the Yulong Gang?”
Though the young swordsman appeared to be a common ruffian teasing a woman in the streets, his gaze and grip on the sword sent a chill through Liu Nirong. Indeed, this was an elite soldier from Beiliang’s army. She remembered her grandfather, Elder Master Liu, speaking of the difference between soldiers and martial artists. Both might have blood on their hands, but while martial artists might be ruthless, soldiers possessed a fearlessness carved from facing death on the battlefield—a tenacity forged in the face of thousands of enemies, a grim determination that came from crawling back to life from among the corpses.
The swordsman grinned and spoke bluntly, “My second brother has taken a liking to you. If you know what’s good for you, come back with him. He told me to say, if you agree to be his woman, the Yulong Gang will only lose thirty-odd men. With my second brother’s support, your gang will have free passage between Beiliang and Beiman—call it a fortunate misfortune, a wedding gift from my second brother. But let me be clear—my second brother already has a proper bride to marry. Miss Liu, you’ll be a concubine without a title. Don’t feel slighted—it’s an honor for the Yulong Gang to climb so high. And think of the fortune in being called ‘Second Madam’ by me, Zhao Yingchuan.”
Liu Nirong sneered, “Your second brother Zhou Ziru truly plans with flawless precision. I’m deeply impressed.”
Zhao Yingchuan licked his lips, glancing at the paralyzed man slumped in the chair. This poor soul had truly met his doom in Zhou Ziru’s hands. He had been dosed with the infamous soft-joint powder, a favorite of flower-plucking bandits. Once a man with some backbone, he had refused to falsely accuse the Yulong Gang—until Zhao Yingchuan carved a bloody groove along his thigh with his blade, stopping just half an inch from his most sensitive parts. Finally broken, the man had shouted the lines Zhou Ziru had prepared.
Zhao Yingchuan stared at Liu Nirong, whom his second brother had taken a liking to, and thought to himself, *Second Brother’s taste is impeccable.* “If we reach an agreement, Madam Zhao and I will leave through the back gate. Whether the Yulong Gang belongs to Liu or Zhou, we’re all family now. Second Brother will naturally elevate the Yulong Gang to become the top gang in Lanzhou. If you refuse, then I’ll have no choice but to knock you out and carry you over my shoulder to Second Brother’s private residence. And if you decide to gang up on me, no problem—I’m confident I can escape. As for the man inside, whether he lives or dies no longer matters. But Madam, is this really the way you want our relationship to begin?”
Liu Nirong felt only sorrow. Were all sons of noble families so scheming and sinister? If Zhou Ziru, the son of a mere vice-commander of the border garrison, could be this calculating, how much more dangerous must the alliance between her grandfather and the descendants of the arms inspector have been? Had it all been a trap set by the Yulong Gang’s enemies and the general’s household from the very beginning? Taking a deep breath, she said calmly, “If you survive this inn, tell Zhou Ziru to go eat shit.”
Zhao Yingchuan raised his thumb in admiration. “Madam Zhao, what spirit! I just hope you’ll be just as delightful when you’re on Second Brother’s bed tonight.”
According to Zhou Ziru’s plan, after Zhao Yingchuan finished speaking with Liu Nirong and the fugitive had done his part, he was supposed to leave. If Liu Nirong submitted, that was best. If not, Zhou Ziru himself would lead soldiers into the inn to arrest them. The inn’s biggest backer was none other than Zhou Ziru himself, so no favors or silver would be needed to stir up such a storm.
Zhao Yingchuan, finding things going too smoothly, did not retreat immediately. Instead, he dragged his blade and charged wildly down the corridor toward Liu Nirong. Ten steps away, he leaped toward the wall, kicked off, and redirected toward the opposite wall, gaining even more momentum and elevation. With a fierce downward slash, he showed no regard for future familial relations. Liu Nirong raised her arm to block, revealing a bright sword blade—a treasure worthy of admiration, the cherished heirloom of Elder Master Liu. The clash of steel rang out. Zhao Yingchuan snarled, “Drop it!”
Liu Nirong staggered back, her arm numb. Landing, Zhao Yingchuan pressed his advantage, giving her no chance to catch her breath. His blade swung wide and fierce, forcing her to block rather than execute any refined sword techniques. Clearly, Zhao Yingchuan was no mere reckless braggart. In the army, sword and blade techniques were all about efficiency—direct, brutal, and deadly. Unlike martial artists who often pursued elegant and intricate forms, Zhao Yingchuan knew better than to give an opponent like Liu Nirong, a true elite from a proper martial gang, the chance to display her skills.
Liu Nirong retreated again and again, swallowing blood rising to her throat. When Zhao Yingchuan finally paused to catch his breath, her sword was knocked from her hand. Zhao Yingchuan’s heart leapt with joy. Since this was a woman his second brother had taken a liking to, he didn’t want to kill her outright. He planned to subdue her with just the right amount of force. But just as he relaxed, the sword, now airborne, twisted around Liu Nirong’s body and slashed at Zhao Yingchuan’s neck from a sharp angle!
Zhao Yingchuan turned his head, a lock of hair falling away. He barely managed to parry with his blade, laughing, “Nice flying sword! If it weren’t for Second Brother warning me that Madam Zhao’s master, Xiao Qiang, is skilled in the Double Swallow Return technique, I might have been in real trouble.”
Liu Nirong remained expressionless, stretching her arms. Instead of grasping the sword, she flicked her finger along the blade and struck the hilt with her palm. The sword spun rapidly through the air like a child’s toy top, flying toward Zhao Yingchuan.
Even Zhao Yingchuan, who had danced with death countless times on the battlefield, grew serious. He did not rashly draw his blade, fearing the woman might use his own force against him. His second brother had warned him that Elder Master Liu’s Cannon Fist, famous throughout Lanzhou, had a secret technique called “Three Bows of the Master,” where each successive strike carried greater force, defying the usual martial principle of diminishing returns. Clearly, Liu Nirong had incorporated this technique into the Double Swallow Spin sword style. This was going to be tricky. Zhao Yingchuan decided to avoid her strongest strikes, retreating backward. His back struck a door, and with a sudden burst of force, he crashed through the wooden panel, retreating into the room. Seeing that Liu Nirong did not pursue, he finally allowed a trickle of blood to escape his lips, revealing his hidden injury.
Zhao Yingchuan shook his blade, regaining his usual carefree demeanor, grinning, “Madam Zhao, you sure know how to wield a sword.”
Liu Nirong wiped the blood from her lips and smiled. “You sure know how to kiss my ass.”
An awkward silence followed.
Zhao Yingchuan’s smile twitched. He hadn’t expected such a refined-looking woman to curse like that.
Inside the room, there were actually two more people, but neither Liu Nirong nor Zhao Yingchuan thought they could do anything. She was only worried they might be caught in the crossfire. As for the swordsman who had temporarily fallen behind, Liu Nirong had no confidence that she could survive a life-or-death duel with him. Her eyes flicked slightly, signaling the two inside not to act rashly. But the next moment, she felt disappointment—twofold. One was the young man with a sword standing motionless by the window, his expression indifferent. But what truly alarmed Liu Nirong was Wang Dashi, who, ignoring the situation, shouted and charged at Zhao Yingchuan.
The Yulong Gang’s martial arts, descended from Elder Master Liu’s Cannon Fist, were derived from one of the martial styles of the Two Chan Temple. They did not pursue complex forms but focused on explosive power. With a strong foundation of internal energy, the style was formidable. Unfortunately, Wang Dashi, who had recently joined the gang and had yet to truly master it, turned it into mere showmanship. Zhao Yingchuan waited calmly until the fist nearly struck his face before kicking Wang Dashi’s knee and dodging the blow. In an instant, the Beiliang saber was at Wang Dashi’s throat. With one hand gripping the blade and the other grabbing Wang Dashi’s neck, Zhao Yingchuan muttered to himself, “Should I slit your throat or crush it?”
Liu Nirong called out, “Don’t!”
Zhao Yingchuan heard the sound of approaching horsemen growing louder. He knew his second brother had already secured victory, so he could afford to play around. Smiling, he said, “Madam Zhao, just say one sentence—‘Little Uncle is so fierce!’—and I’ll spare this useless fellow.”
Though Wang Dashi’s skills were clumsy, he had some stubborn courage. Even as he was restrained, he shouted, “Miss, don’t!”
Liu Nirong’s expression remained cold. “I’ll say it.”
Zhao Yingchuan tightened his grip, lifting Wang Dashi off the ground. Pressing his advantage, he added, “Madam Zhao, don’t forget the ‘li’ at the end!”
Liu Nirong was about to accept this humiliation when her mouth opened and refused to close. Her eyes widened in shock, as if she had seen a ghost.
Zhao Yingchuan’s eyes were wide and glassy, filled with sickly bloodshot veins—clearly on the brink of death.
Behind him stood the silent swordsman who had not spoken a word throughout. With a single, decisive move, he had not even drawn his blade. Instead, he had thrust his hand into Zhao Yingchuan’s back, snapping his spine in one fatal strike.
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