HCAW 64

Chapter 64: The Seven Stars Aligned

Five days later, the Lei Ze Camp soldiers were utterly routed by Chu Kuang.

Setting aside his exceptional skill, once Chu Kuang engaged an opponent, his viciousness would erupt—like a whirlwind of blood and flesh. That fearless ferocity was terrifying. The soldiers couldn’t help but murmur among themselves that this brat was clearly born to be a front-line killer. He might be even more suited to cutting down generals than drawing bows.

That day, the soldiers lay scattered across the deck of the Lei Ze ship, groaning and panting. All eyes glared red with fury toward the young man standing alone on the boards.

Chu Kuang found the bout painfully dull. Retracting the wrist-mounted crossbow, he looked around at the defeated and sneered, “So the whole Lei Ze Camp is full of eunuchs? Lost your guts along with your balls?”

He walked up to one man slumped on the deck and kicked him square in the crotch. A shrill wail rang out as the soldier clutched himself and leapt up. Chu Kuang said, “Oh? You can still move? Then stand up and fight me again.”

He himself was hardly unscathed—his robe soaked with blood from several wounds—but he didn’t seem to care at all. The soldiers watched in fear. Some quietly crawled toward the edge of the deck, sneaking away from the ship.

Seeing that no one else dared rise, Chu Kuang returned to the stern cabin, bandaged himself simply, and came back out again. This time, he fetched a bucket of seawater from the Ming Sea and, without a word, splashed it directly over the defeated men.

A soldier jumped up, shouting, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Cleaning up. After that mess, this place is filthy.”

“Then why splash us too?”

Chu Kuang sneered. “I don’t see people here. Only filth on the ground.”

The soldiers were livid. Though they knew he was insulting them indirectly, they couldn’t argue. Beaten by a youth still in his hair-knot¹, how could they show their faces?

From then on, they threw themselves into training even harder. Spear drills, formation exercises—the camp became a furnace of effort. Watching this transformation, Yan Xin sighed in awe:

“Lei Ze Camp has come back to life!”

Yan Xin, the boy from before, was the most diligent of all. Though young, he was sharp, once a trusted subordinate of Yu Jue Guard. Yu Jue had assigned him many important tasks, all of which he completed cleanly. Naturally, he earned the soldiers’ trust and was soon pushed into the position of camp leader.

Still, Yan Xin didn’t want to see everyone constantly at odds with Chu Kuang. He tried several times to explain that Chu Kuang had his reasons, but the others always scoffed. Resentment toward Chu Kuang had become the unspoken bond of Lei Ze Camp. Whenever they had free time, someone would go snooping around for him.

Chu Kuang liked to wander near the ship’s outbuildings. Waterfowl, like red-throated grebes and green-plumed birds, screeched at the sight of him—he had a knack for shooting birds clean out of the air. Whenever he took aim, a bird would end up skewered and roasted that night.

The soldiers watched him lazily roasting his prey and gnashed their teeth. Someone muttered, “Where the hell did this brat learn such slick movement and archery?”

Their thoughts naturally returned to the mysterious silver-masked man. If Chu Kuang, still underage, had such ability under his guidance—just who was this teacher?

Driven by curiosity, the soldiers would try to get close to Chu Kuang during sparring sessions, using friendly tones to probe him.

“Hey, Chu, where are you from?”

Chu Kuang would eye them strangely and then send them flying with a kick. “Where I’m from is none of your damn business.”

“But aren’t you our grandpa? Your grandkids just want to know their ancestral roots so they can pay respects at the family shrine!”

Chu Kuang’s stomach turned. He knew they were fishing for background. He flicked the butterfly trigger; twin crossbows launched silver bolts that knocked them flat. Standing with arms akimbo, he declared, “I’m a lunatic. I don’t even know where I’m from—so how could I tell you?”

With no answers to be had, the soldiers retreated. But rumors about Chu Kuang and his master only grew louder—some even accused them of being spies from Qingyu Gao Mountain, sent to one day betray them.

Chu Kuang ignored it all. He had too much to do anyway. Often his temples would ache, and at times he’d collapse and wake only days later. His master said it was the lingering effects of the meat slice he’d consumed.

The silver-masked man also told him: bringing him to Yingzhou wasn’t just for training, but to obtain the legendary “Jin Pugu”—arrows said to have come from the Battle of Chengqiu, once used by Duke Zhuang of Lu. It required no skill to strike true and was forged from Heavenly Moutain gold—wounds it caused never healed.

“The best bow in this world is the Fan Ruo, used by Hou Yi to shoot the suns. The best arrows—Jin Pugu,” the silver-masked man said. “If you get your hands on them, and the Ruyi Guard teaches you how to shoot it—maybe you really could kill Yu Ji Guard.”

Chu Kuang lowered his eyes. As he bound arrowheads with sinew, blood seeped through his fingers. “Then how do I get these arrow?”

“Ask Ruyi Guard,” his master replied. “Or I could go beg her for you.”

“You even know her?” Chu Kuang looked suspicious. “You said you knew Yu Jue Guard too. Who the hell are you, Master?”

The silver-masked man blinked. “Didn’t I give you a jade ring? It has my name engraved.”

Chu Kuang fished out the ring. It had ancient characters and a goose emblem carved in the center. His master pointed. “Left side’s my title, right side’s my name. If you can read it, you’ll know who I am.”

Chu Kuang couldn’t read a single word. He stared for ages, but got nowhere. “Must be someone important, having a ring with your title carved. Shame I’m illiterate—I even asked around, but no one can read these old characters.”

His master just smiled mysteriously. “One day, you’ll understand.”

“Where’s this Ruyi Guard anyway? I’ll drag you to her, make you kneel, and she’ll give me the arrow, right?”

The silver-masked man smiled wryly. “This brat, no respect for his elders.” But he still smiled. “No need to seek her—she’ll come to us in a few days.”

Sure enough, the next day, someone barged onto the Lei Ze ship, yelling:

“Where are those two rotten drifters? I’ve come to meet them myself!”

It was a young girl, dressed in cloud-and-thunder patterned brocade, haughty and imposing. Chu Kuang and the silver-masked man descended from the stern cabin. Chu Kuang pointed at the girl and said:

“Master, your illegitimate daughter’s come looking for you.”

The silver-masked man knocked him on the head, exasperated. “Nonsense. I’ve never even married—how could I have a kid?”

“That’s why she’s illegitimate,” Chu Kuang replied solemnly.

The girl stomped her foot in fury. “I am the famous Ruyi Guard! You filthy brat, show some respect!”

After her tantrum, the little girl saw the silver-masked man standing beside her with a smile. She cleared her throat and glared at him. “You blockhead—why are you here?”

The silver-masked man’s eyes flickered. After a pause, he replied, “Came to see an old acquaintance.”

Ruyi Guard’s face flushed. She cleared her throat again and said, “And what good does it do for you to come visit us? You’re not even from Yingzhou… Speaking of which, where is His Majesty now?”

“He has matters to attend to. He’s not here.” The silver-masked man’s gaze seemed to pierce through the deck, looking far into the distance.

The girl turned her attention to Chu Kuang and asked the silver-masked man, “If you’re going back to Penglai, why are you still here in Yingzhou, dragging a kid around like family? I think he’s your illegitimate son, isn’t he?”

The silver-masked man calmly replied, “Ruyi Guard, why don’t you cast a divination and see for yourself? No need to keep asking.”

The girl stomped her foot. “What, you think I’m some old demon? I already told you, not everything can be divined!”

Chu Kuang and the Lei Ze soldiers watched the exchange with wide eyes. Whether or not this silver-masked man really had ties to the Xian Mountain Guard, and whether this little girl was truly Ruyi Guard, still remained to be seen. The girl seemed to read the suspicion in everyone’s gaze, and she scoffed. “Don’t believe me? Then set up a target—I’ll open your eyes.”

Half-believing, half-doubting, the soldiers set up an archery target on the ship. The girl drew a purple-redwood bow inlaid with gold from her back, loaded a raw sinew arrow, and released. The soldiers hadn’t even seen the arrow’s shadow before a wave of force swept them off their feet. When they looked again, the target appeared untouched—there wasn’t even an arrow.

A soldier laughed, “What a load of bluster! The arrow missed completely—some skills!”

The girl sneered proudly, “Then take a closer look, mutts.”

Someone stepped up to examine the target—and found a translucent hole pierced straight through its center. Moving the target aside, they discovered a matching hole in the deck behind it. The arrow had gone clean through and vanished into the sea.

The soldiers were stunned by her terrifying strength and precision. No one dared question her identity again.

The girl returned to the silver-masked man’s side to continue their conversation. He smiled. “I didn’t expect to see you draw a bow today. It’s like flowers blooming on an iron tree—your skills are as astonishing as ever.”

“Hmph.” Ruyi Guard turned her head, though a faint flush of pride crept across her cheeks. “Nonsense. I heard you’ve been looking for me. What trick are you trying to rope me into this time?”

The silver-masked man took the opportunity to push Chu Kuang forward. “This is my disciple, Chu Kuang. He’s extremely talented with a bow. I’d like to ask you to give him a few pointers.”

The girl circled Chu Kuang with narrowed eyes, making him visibly uncomfortable. At last, she asked, “Him? Your disciple?” The silver-masked man nodded with a smile.

She circled back to Chu Kuang, then suddenly smirked wickedly. “Why should I teach him? Can’t you teach him yourself?”

The silver-masked man deflected, “My skills are nothing compared to yours, Ruyi Guard. Your arrows are divine.”

She pouted again, clearly dissatisfied with his flattery.

Just then, a loud commotion erupted outside the ship. A scout burst into the cabin, shouting, “Bad news! Troops from Qingyu Gao Palace are attacking!”

Chaos broke out in Lei Ze Camp. The soldiers scrambled for blades and swords, rushing out to respond. Such attacks had happened before. But after Yu Jue Guard’s passing, morale had fallen and most had resorted to retreating when facing the palace troops. Now, however, after being spurred by Chu Kuang and reorganized by Yan Xin, the soldiers were marching in formation, spirits ablaze.

Amid the clamor of boots, the little girl clapped and said to the silver-masked man, “Very well. I don’t mind taking this brat as my disciple—but on one condition.”

“What condition?”

“Shoot an arrow for him. Let him see that you’re a big fraud. Hiding all those skills and pretending you can’t teach!”

The silver-masked man opened his mouth, but before he could reply, Ruyi Guard kicked him. “Well? Agree or not? If you don’t, don’t even dream of me teaching the kid anything!”

After a moment of silence, the silver-masked man took the large Qu bow she handed over and smiled bitterly. “Fine. For his sake, I’ll draw the bow once. But if I miss, don’t laugh.”

The group climbed out from the side cabin and up to the top deck. Ruyi Guard said to Chu Kuang, “Watch closely, brat. Who said it’s rare to see me draw a bow? Watching him shoot is like watching a falling star strike the earth!”

Chu Kuang blinked. “Is Master really that good?”

She sneered, “His martial skill is unmatched in heaven or earth—I can’t match even a tenth of his strength.”

As they spoke, they heard the clamor of battle from afar. Gray clouds rolled across the sky, wind howled, and the sea darkened. Cannonships clashed, their ramming echoing like thunder. At the prow of one Qingyu Gao Palace ship stood a towering warrior in painted rhinoceros-hide armor, wielding a massive iron mace, sweeping down enemies in every direction. Blood spattered with every swing. None who stood before him survived.

Ruyi Guard pointed. “That’s one of the Palace’s most fearsome warriors. He’s killed many Lei Ze soldiers. If you take his head today, it’ll make your battle against Yu Ji Guard much easier.”

Chu Kuang squinted. “Too far. I can’t hit from here.”

“You can’t—but your master can.” She smirked. “Your master is a once-in-a-generation prodigy.”

Under the dark sky, the silver-masked man took a deep breath and planted his feet. He pushed his chest forward and drew the bow.

It wasn’t just Chu Kuang. The soldiers on the Lei Ze ship all felt something shift and looked up.

There, against the sky, stood a man in a black satin suit, elbow raised, bowstring taut, his form sleek and coiled with power. He no longer seemed human, but like a hawk about to strike.

Everyone stared, dazed—as if awaiting a miracle.

The wind howled. Waves rose high. And then—lightning split the sea.

A silver arrowhead blazed through the storm, slicing through the sky like a white rainbow.

Chu Kuang’s heart thundered. The twang of the bowstring shook his chest and rang in his ears. He saw the white streak scrape past the palace general.

His master sighed, returning to his usual calm smile. “Told you. My aim’s terrible. I’m no expert archer.”

Though the shot missed, in the next instant, the palace ship’s mast snapped with a roar. The falling beam crushed the warrior beneath it. The ship lost balance and tipped into the sea. Screams rose from the palace soldiers.

Someone noticed—there weren’t just one, but seven holes bored through the mast. It hadn’t been one arrow, but seven.

Chu Kuang stood frozen. Ruyi Guard whispered beside him, “That was his ultimate technique: Seven Stars in a Row. Rapid-fire mastery. It looked like one shot—but it was seven. That’s something even I can’t do.”

Chu Kuang felt as if countless gongs were striking in his skull. When he looked again, he saw his master standing in the wind, cloak flying, eyes behind the silver mask sharp as blades.

He asked, stunned, “Who… who is Master really?”

Ruyi Guard’s voice was proud. “He has a title. After Emperor Changyi took the throne, the Xian Mountains were mired in shadow. Justice was gone. Many commoners took their own lives, saying that if the Five Mountain Kings wouldn’t decide right from wrong, then the underworld should. Only the Yama Court could declare someone clean.”

She gazed at the silver-masked man, murmuring, “And he is the one who delivers that verdict. Be it prince or sea-dragon tyrant, he brings them all down. He served only the late emperor—none else. In all these years, he has slain countless demons and fiends.”

The bloody wind whipped the sea. Thunder echoed. The silver-masked man lowered his bow and walked toward them. Behind him, waves shattered against the hull like snow bursting from a cliff.

He stood tall, godlike.

“So the people call him—” Ruyi Guard looked at him deeply and said at last:

“—the Yama Court’s Sovereign. King Yama.”

1. a young man who hasn’t yet come of age, he still wears his hair tied in the traditional topknot, a sign of youth or adolescence in ancient China ↩︎