HCAW 2
by LiliumChapter 2: The King Yama Whistling Arrow
In the twenty-third year of Changyi, heavy snow fell.
It was just past the first watch, and the sky was dark and overcast. Several ruts in the snow, like tightly sewn stitches, wove their way toward the entrance of Jishun Inn at the foot of Mount Penglai in the village of Tongjing.
Large red lanterns bathed the front courtyard of the inn in a glowing crimson light. A few guests were seated in that warm glow, drinking millet wine: a Taoist in a coir cape, several traveling merchants in Liuhe hats, and a young warrior in a bright gold robe. In the main hall, two armchairs were arranged, with several performers seated or standing, just beginning to pluck the strings of a sanxian.
While soft music drifted through the front courtyard, a stream of curses rang out from the stable in the back. A hallboy, clad in a blue cloth shirt and with a warm scarf on his head, was kicking a beggar sleeping in the hay.
“Lazy wretch! Still not up to work?”
The beggar sat up slowly. His hair was disheveled, his face filthy, and he was wrapped in a foul-smelling blanket crusted with manure and soot. His appearance was pitifully dirty. The hallboy wrinkled his nose, hauled over a bucket of water, and threw a rag at him.
“Wash your face, quick. How can we let you near customers looking like that?”
The beggar sluggishly picked up the rag and wiped his face. As the grime came off, pale skin was revealed beneath. His features were actually quite decent, but a gruesome red scar, as if from a burn, marred his right eye. It was horrifying, but usually hidden under his tangled hair, sparing others the sight.
As the beggar washed up, the hallboy Chen Xiao’er leaned against the stable door and sighed.
In recent years, the weather had turned colder, with frequent snowstorms, and there were even rumors of the murderous “King Yama.” He was Penglai’s most wanted criminal—ruthless and notorious for his crimes. Because of these tales, travelers avoided Penglai, and business at Jishun Inn dwindled. Only a few servants remained, scraping by in hardship.
A few days prior, a beggar had collapsed outside the inn. The innkeeper, moved by pity, brought him in. The stable happened to be short-handed, and since the beggar still had some strength and looked presentable when cleaned up—far better than the cheap “deadweight” they could buy—the innkeeper put him to work there. Chen Xiao’er, however, was none too pleased. He could see this sanctioned rice-scrounger was lazy and only good for sleeping. How could he possibly work?
But today, the beggar might actually prove useful. From the front came the distant whinnying of horses—more than one, stopping outside the inn.
Chen Xiao’er immediately kicked the beggar twice and barked, “Go tend to the horses. Don’t forget to cut hay for them later!”
He himself hastily brushed the dust off his tunic and half-ran, half-limped into the main hall. Though his leg was slightly lame, he moved quickly with obsequious energy. The guests had just dismounted when the now-clean beggar slowly stepped forward to tether their horses. Chen Xiao’er glared at him, then plastered on a smile as he went to greet the new arrivals, voice dripping with honey:
“Honored guests, are you here for a meal or a room?”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Chen Xiao’er cursed himself for being stupid. It was well past the first watch—who would just come for a meal? But before he could say more, the lead traveler spoke, and his voice made Chen Xiao’er’s soul nearly flee his body:
“Neither.”
The guests were three in number. The leader was a tall, broad-shouldered man, draped in a black cloak with thick fur sleeves. His face was stern and resolute, and he wore a silk eyepatch, exuding an intimidating presence.
The man spoke coldly:
“We’re here—to kill someone.”
Everyone in the inn trembled and lifted their eyes.
Suddenly, with a creak, the inn’s main door shut. One of the man’s companions had closed it and slid the bolt. With a flick of the wrist, several glints of cold light flew from her fingers—small metal orbs embedded with pearls. They shattered the supporting window latches around the room, sealing off all escape routes.
Chen Xiao’er stammered, “K-Kill someone? Who… who are you people?”
Bandits? Could it be the inn was being robbed tonight? Cold sweat soaked his back. But then he saw the one who had sealed the doors step forward—a lovely girl, her face lit by candlelight, bright as a spring peach. She wore a red peony-print dress, with phoenix eyes and thin lips. She unfastened a badge from her waist and raised it for Chen Xiao’er to see, her voice crisp and sharp like peppers bursting in hot oil:
“What are you afraid of? We’re on official duty from Xian1 Immortal Mountain—law enforcers, not criminals. Look, see for yourself.”
Chen Xiao’er squinted and took a closer look—then gasped again. The badge was shaped like a broken jade seal. Everyone in Penglai knew that this was the token of the Xian Mountain Guards under Emperor Changyi’s command.
These Xian Mountain Guards were the elite force guarding the five great sacred mountains. Only ten existed in the world, each with great merit and imperial favor—second only to the Emperor himself. The guard assigned to Penglai was known as the Jade Seal Guard, and this broken jade seal marked a commanding officer under their command.
“So it’s the honored officials of the Jade Seal Guard! I failed to recognize your noble presence!” Chen Xiao’er finally relaxed and bowed repeatedly with a sheepish smile. But then he hesitated. “But, sirs… earlier, you said something about ‘killing someone.’ What did you mean?”
The one-eyed man spoke again—and his words nearly shattered the hearts of everyone present:
“Several days ago, the King Yama came to this place. We are here to execute him on the spot.”
The King Yama!
Everyone in the room turned pale. That name was soaked in blood—no one was unaware of it. To think such a remorseless monster had been hiding among them?
Chen Xiao’er, soaked in sweat, stammered, “Sir, I wouldn’t dream of doubting your judgment… but how can you be so sure that the killer is here in our humble inn?”
The one-eyed man kicked a bench aside and sat down heavily, his presence as imposing as a mountain. The room went dead silent.
He brushed his fingers over his silk eyepatch and sighed.
“A year ago, I was still the captain of the Jueyuan Cavalry of Penglai’s twenty-four palaces. I was ordered to confront the King Yama in the Jiwei Desert. He took my eye with a single arrow. Since then, I’ve traveled restlessly, heart gripped with dread, searching for his trace—and now, I’ve finally caught his scent here in Tongjing Village.” He turned his gaze to the innkeeper. “You’ve lived here long enough. Have you not noticed anything strange recently?”
That gaze pierced like a sword. The innkeeper stammered, of course he knew. Strange happenings weren’t recent—this place had been plagued by eerie occurrences for a year now, and mountain ghouls had taken lives.
These so-called “mountain ghouls” were forest spirits said to be one-legged and covered in fur, like enormous monkeys. If one learned your name, you would die behind locked doors. Several had already perished in Tongjing Village, and it was rumored to be the work of the ghouls. In recent months, sightings had increased, and no amount of ritual could stop them.
“There… there have indeed been a few unexplained cases that we’ve yet to sort out…” the innkeeper mumbled.
The one-eyed man sneered. “Not ‘unexplained cases.’ Murders. And it wasn’t some mountain spirit—it was the King Yama! We examined the corpses. Nearby, we found sachets of red-arrow flower—his signature. Every victim died behind locked doors. Who else but the King Yama could have claimed their lives unseen? Moreover, he was last spotted at the Yuanluo Fan family estate—just a few li from here. It’s clear that the King Yama has been hiding in Tongjing Village for the past year!”
His deductions were so clear and precise, no one could argue. The guests began to eye each other with suspicion, and the room seemed to grow colder.
The red-clad girl shot the innkeeper a sidelong look and said imperiously, “Why are you just standing there? Get everyone in this inn downstairs—now! We’ll check their travel permits one by one. Only then will we know who’s clean!”
The innkeeper had no choice. The Jade Seal Guard’s orders were like divine law in Penglai. He sent Chen Xiao’er upstairs to knock on every door and summon the guests. No one dared complain when they heard the Xian Mountain’s Guards had arrived.
Soon, a few people gathered sparsely in the hall. Chen Xiao’er counted heads and reported to the one-eyed man, “Sir, everyone from the inn is here.”
The red-clad girl spat, “Pah, are you blind? What about the kitchen? What about the stablehands? Bring them all out!”
Chen Xiao’er slapped his forehead, cursing his forgetfulness. He dashed to the kitchen and hauled over the cook Zhao Fatty. Then he remembered the beggar who’d tied the horses and ran to the stable, finding the beggar dozing again by the trough.
Chen Xiao’er kicked him. “Get up!” The beggar blinked blearily, his hair again messy and covering his eyes.
Chen Xiao’er grabbed him by the head and dragged him to the door. “Go wait in the hall. Watch the officials’ mood and serve them some tea.”
The beggar looked dazed, as if he hadn’t heard. Chen Xiao’er shouted again, and he finally stood, hoarsely saying, “I haven’t finished grooming the horses.”
“For heaven’s sake! They’re checking travel permits, looking for the King Yama! You like horses so much, yet just now you were snoring like a pig?” Chen Xiao’er yelled. “If you don’t go now, they’ll think you’re the killer!”
The beggar reluctantly stroked the guards’ horses—one white with greenish hues, two black steeds. All were fine dragon-blood horses, gleaming and well-proportioned, able to run a thousand li. Even Chen Xiao’er gave them a second look.
Shoving and dragging, he brought the beggar to the hall, where the guards had already checked most of the guests. Three people still drew suspicion and were ordered to stand aside.
One was a merchant in a Liuhe hat, sweating and uneasy. One was a brash warrior in gold, with a steel sword at his waist. The third was a pipa player—a graceful, delicate woman with a worried face.
The one-eyed man remained seated, his hawk-like gaze circling among the three. He was the only one who had faced the King Yama in battle—only he could sense the killer’s bloody aura.
The red-clad girl looked at the trio and sneered, “Well? Which of you is the King Yama? Speak now and spare yourself a beating.”
The three looked at each other, sweating, silent.
She raised a brow and suddenly grinned wickedly. “Or how about this—I cut you all open, and whoever has the blackest heart and liver must be the King Yama!”
The three turned pale in terror, but the one-eyed man barked, “Xiao Jiao, stop scaring them.”
The girl called Xiao Jiao pouted.
The man turned to the merchant. “We’ll start with you. Why is there a token of the Da Yuan Dao Sect in your baggage?” As he spoke, he lifted a peach-blossom seal from the table.
The traveling merchant’s face turned as pale as death. The “Da Yuan Dao” was a heretical sect strictly forbidden by the current Emperor. The so-called “Da Yuan” was the original name for “Peach Yuan,” a doctrine based on the absurd superstition that “beyond Penglai lies the Peach Yuan.” It incited the common people to abandon their homes and seek out immortal mountains, and the Peach Blossom Frozen Stone Seal was their token of faith. Once confirmed as a believer of the Da Yuan Dao, one was usually thrown into prison. Those more deeply involved would be publicly executed at the Zhenhai Pass.
The one-eyed man next looked to the young wanderer. It was plain at first glance that he was a young master from a wealthy household—lavishly dressed in bright silks, his buttons inlaid with gold. Though fair of face and clear of eye, he carried himself with an air of arrogance. The man said, “And you, young master—why were there dozens of women’s undergarments found in your belongings?”
Lastly, the one-eyed man turned to the woman with the pipa. The woman looked panicked, clutching her bundle tightly and refusing to let go. The man said, “And you, young lady—what precious item are you hiding in that bundle of yours that you won’t even let us glimpse it?”
The red-clad girl named Xiao Jiao had a fiery temper. She immediately stepped forward and called out to the pipa girl, “Since you won’t let us see it, I’ll just take it by force!”
As she finished, Xiao Jiao flicked her finger, sending a bead flying toward the pipa girl’s knuckles. Caught off guard, the pipa girl involuntarily loosened her grip, and the bundle fell to the ground. The cloth unwrapped, revealing its contents. Everyone was dumbfounded—
—It was a human head, already reduced to bare white bone!
“What’s going on here?” In the stunned silence, the one-eyed man’s face changed dramatically. He slammed the table and shouted at the pipa girl, “You killed someone?!”
The pipa girl looked utterly terrified, trembling like a dead leaf in the wind. After a long silence, she suddenly threw herself forward, clutching the skull and crying out:
“I didn’t kill anyone! I’m not the ‘King Yama’!”
Her wooden hairpin scattered as her hair fell loose. Her bloodshot eyes glared fiercely at the merchant. “It was him! This fat-bellied scoundrel is in league with the heretical Da Yuan Dao. My family borrowed some silver from him to repair our house, and he charged us usurious interest. In the end, he kidnapped my little sister to offer as a human sacrifice to that sect! I changed my name and appearance, followed him all the way, disguised myself as a singing girl at the teahouse—just to seek vengeance! This head is my mother’s! She died by his hands, with her eyes open and full of pain!”
Her hoarse, tearful confession darkened the one-eyed man’s expression as he turned to the merchant.
The merchant was drenched in sweat, waving his chubby hands desperately. “Sirs! This is all a misunderstanding! I’m a stranger to this land—I only bought that Peach Blossom Frozen Stone Seal because it looked pretty! As for this woman—I don’t even know her…”
Xiao Jiao cut him off coldly: “Liar.” With a flick of her wrist, several beads shot out, striking the merchant’s pressure points like iron pellets. The man screamed like a pig being slaughtered, writhing on the floor. The red-clad girl stepped on him as if he were a polo ball, swaggering. “Lie to an officer again, and I’ll cut out that lying tongue of yours. Speak.”
Left with no choice, the merchant curled into a ball, knocking his head against the floor like pounding garlic. “Yes, yes, I confess! I joined the Da Yuan Dao and lost my mind—I did some terrible things. But harming that girl’s family wasn’t my idea! There’s a sect member who’s obsessed with making drums out of human skin—he said he wanted people from Zijing Village, because their skin’s the most delicate from drinking spring water. If I refused, he’d kill me! I had no choice!”
He wailed, snot running down his face. “And that person promised me a big reward afterward, but I haven’t received a single coin! I was angry, so I followed his trail here. If you want someone to punish, he’s the one who deserves death!”
The one-eyed man frowned deeply. “And? Did you find out where this sect member is?”
The merchant nodded eagerly and jabbed a finger toward the finely dressed young wanderer. “It’s that young master! Every time the sect member sent a letter, the paper carried the scent of Longxiang musk—an illegal luxury. But this kind was high-grade, and I once smelled it on a big merchant at great risk. It’s rare! But that young master’s sachet is full of it—he’s the one! He’s the murderous sect member!”
The one-eyed man and Xiao Jiao turned their eyes on the wanderer again. But the youth remained unflustered, smirking proudly.
“I’ve traveled far and wide. You think I can’t get my hands on a bit of Longxiang musk? I bought it from a native of Mianlong Isle before it was restricted. As for the accusations of fraud and murder—I know nothing of them.”
Xiao Jiao snorted and held up the women’s undergarments they’d found in his pack. “And these dozens of women’s undergarments—did you buy these too?”
The wanderer showed no shame, and instead answered proudly, “No. I took them personally, one by one.”
Xiao Jiao’s expression turned strange.
The youth laughed lightly and declared, “Have you never heard of the ‘Drifting Cloud Rogue’? That’s me—elusive as the drifting clouds, a famed flower thief. Collecting the undergarments of a hundred maidens is my lifelong ambition. I came to this inn after hearing there was a new singer of rare beauty—I wanted to see her for myself.”
He cast his lecherous gaze at the pipa girl, clutching the skull. His smile oozed wicked intent.
The one-eyed man said, “I see now. Each of you has your own agenda, yet fate brought you all together. Very well. Since your stories cannot be verified at the moment, you’ll come with us. We’ll sort this out in court.”
The three of them blanched. Entering the court of the Xian Mountain officials was no different from walking into a tiger’s jaw. Would they not be flayed alive?
The wanderer, relying on his martial skill, raised an elegant eyebrow and said, “Hold on! Weren’t you here to catch the ‘King Yama’? If none of us are the killer, why not let us go?”
The red-clad girl planted her hands on her hips. “According to the Laws of Penglai, those who kill shall die, and those who violate women shall be exiled. Of the three of you, at least two are criminals. Even if we can’t catch ‘King Yama’ today, we’ll use you two to fill our nets!”
No sooner had she finished speaking than the wanderer, unwilling to surrender, drew the steel sword at his waist and lunged at her. He clearly planned to fight his way out.
Xiao Jiao sneered, “Hah! Cornered dogs will leap walls!”
As the blade neared her face, she unfastened a chain of beads from her waist. Though slender, it was highly flexible. With a flick, she deftly intercepted the sword. Another toss—and the chain, like a snake, wound around the wanderer and the merchant, binding them tightly.
Her movement was so fast that neither man could react before they were trussed up like rice dumplings, rolling on the ground in struggle.
“Well done, Xiao Jiao,” the one-eyed man nodded approvingly.
Xiao Jiao grinned proudly. “Just some pesky insects—not worth mentioning. But sir, we’ve already searched everyone in this inn. If none of these three are ‘King Yama’… then where is he? Could it be that he’s not here at all?”
“No. He’s here.” The one-eyed man’s eyes gleamed coldly. “And I can already smell the blood on him.”
His words rang out like a honed blade, making everyone’s hair stand on end.
A sudden chill swept the air. The one-eyed man slowly turned his gaze past Xiao Jiao, fixing it on someone nearby.
“Am I wrong?”
Everyone turned in unison to look—only to see Chen the inn servant standing at the entrance, dumbstruck.
The one-eyed man spoke. “…A vengeful ghost soaked in blood.”
For a moment, the room was dead silent. Every gaze locked on the scrawny, lame-legged inn servant. He wore a clean but worn blue tunic and looked like any other common errand boy.
Yet the one-eyed man’s tone was absolute.
“Earlier, when you ran up and down calling the guests, I was watching closely. Your breathing was steady, your limbs swift and strong, and your movements silent—you’re clearly a man of great martial skill. You scan the room subtly, always alert. But more importantly—”
His gaze dropped to the servant’s leg. “That leg of yours… isn’t lame. It’s gone, isn’t it?”
Xiao Jiao flicked her finger, launching a bead. Chen Xiao’er snapped out of his daze and instinctively retreated. The motion was agile and lightning-fast—impossible for a mere inn servant. But Xiao Jiao was faster. The bead split in midair, and one half slashed through the wrapping on his leg, revealing a wooden stump.
It turned out Chen Xiao’er had stuffed reeds under the wrapping to make his lost limb appear whole.
“And that wooden leg,” the one-eyed man said grimly, “is likely your murder weapon. I’ve heard of a insect-wielder in the Da Yuan Dao who embedded a venomous insect box inside his flesh—triggering it released deadly pests. Your wooden leg must hide a similar mechanism. Your footsteps sound hollow—clearly there’s something inside.”
Chen Xiao’er stood in silence, like a clay statue. He said nothing, and everyone else held their breath.
The one-eyed man spoke again, “And it was precisely through the mechanism in that leg of yours that you committed the crime of killing behind closed doors, isn’t that so?”
After a long silence, Chen Xiao’er let out a few dry chuckles. “Lord Xian Mountain Officer, I lost this leg in the chaos of war. I’m just a poor laborer helping out at an inn. How could I possibly be the ‘important figure’ you speak of? And even if I had committed such a thing, where’s your proof?”
Xiao Jiao planted her hands on her hips. “There is no proof.”
“No… proof?” Chen Xiao’er hadn’t expected such a blunt denial. His eyes widened.
“Yep, we’re violent officers. We’ve always dragged people back and beaten confessions out of them,” Xiao Jiao said cheerfully, pointing at him with a beaming smile. “The head officer has seen countless people and is never wrong. Since he says you’re stained with blood, you’re the biggest suspect. You’d better come quietly with us!”
Chen Xiao’er lowered his head, his fists clenched and trembling.
Suddenly, he jerked his head up. The previously obsequious smile vanished completely, as if he had put on a savage mask.
“Since everyone here is clever, I won’t bother pretending,” he grinned, a cruel, bloodthirsty light in his smile. “Esteemed Xian Mountain Guards, you’ve finally found me.”
Before the words had fully left his mouth, he shot forward like a specter! His movements and expression were a world apart from just moments ago. Xiao Jiao was startled—he was coming right at her! She raised her chain in a panic to block him, but with a powerful kick, Chen Xiao’er snapped the iron chain in two! Xiao Jiao was thrown back, her whole body ringing with pain.
Seeing this terrifying turn, the innkeeper and other guests trembled and scrambled like gourds into the back rooms, slamming the doors shut.
Chen Xiao’er lightly flicked the mechanism on his leg. The wooden casing of his prosthetic fell away, revealing a hidden compartment. In an instant, black mist surged out—poisonous flying insects he had raised, black-bodied with orange chests.
“But you’re mistaken,” he sneered. “I am not the ‘King Yama’—I am a follower of the King Yama. Everything I’ve done was to force that man to reveal himself.”
“I am the insect-wielder of the Da Yuan Dao, and also the so-called… ‘Moutains ghouls’ you’ve been talking about!”
The candlelight flickered chaotically, and deep shadows engulfed him. He looked as though he’d been swallowed by darkness—his expression chilling and terrifying.
The red-clad girl scrambled up from the ground, shouting, “So it was you! You’re the killer who’s been murdering for profit here!”
Chen Xiao’er laughed hoarsely. “That’s right. I’ll be honest with you. I left behind the Red Arrow flower sachet to lure the ‘King Yama’ into appearing. I borrowed his name to set a long trap—he surely wouldn’t sit by and do nothing.”
His movements were blindingly fast. His wooden leg swung like a short spear, forming an impenetrable flurry. The beads Xiao Jiao shot at him were all knocked back.
Xiao Jiao snorted, “At least you’re honest. Surrender now!”
She quickly pieced together the full picture. This Chen Xiao’er had been posing as a humble inn servant for years, lying in wait. In order to force “King Yama” to show himself, he borrowed his name and committed murders. Previously, the Jade Seal Guard had sent several Xian Mountain Guards to investigate—but likely, they were all silenced by him. Being able to control poisonous insects, he released them through door cracks to kill, then had them return the same way. That was why the corpses were always found behind locked doors.
“Because I was feeling merciful,” Chen Xiao’er grinned wickedly, “I wanted you to die knowing the truth. Before today, I’d already killed a few officers like you. And you’re not leaving here alive either!”
With a kick, he sent the wanderer’s dropped steel sword flying into his hand, then thrust it forward like lightning. Xiao Jiao couldn’t dodge in time—the sword was almost at her eyes—when the one-eyed man suddenly rose from his bench and blocked the blade with his arm.
Beneath his cloak, the man wore reinforced armor—the blade couldn’t cut through. But Chen Xiao’er hadn’t been aiming for that. With a flick of his foot, his wooden leg curved like a dagger, slashing toward the man’s chest.
But the one-eyed man, once the head of the Penglai Cavalry, was worthy of his past title. He leaned back, grabbing Xiao Jiao and rolling several steps away. They dodged the blow, but the merchant and swordsman, still tied up by Xiao Jiao earlier, weren’t so lucky. A gust from the strike sliced part of their skulls clean off, blood spraying everywhere.
At the same time, the poisonous insects from Chen Xiao’er’s leg swarmed like a terrifying black cloud.
Xiao Jiao trembled, yelling, “I even locked the door when I came into this inn—what a fool I was!” She suddenly turned and shouted behind her, “Hey! You tight-lipped gourd! Captain Fang! Stop scribbling those rotten words and get over here!”
Chen Xiao’er hesitated.
Only then did he remember: there were three Xian Mountain Guards who had come to the inn today—one-eyed man, red-clothed girl, and another person who hadn’t spoken a word and had always stood behind the other two.
That person had no distinctive features. If there was anything unusual, it was that he wore a thin, patched-up hemp cloak in the dead of winter. Since entering the inn, he had pulled a brush case from his robe, spread out straw paper on the table, dipped into an ink slab, and quietly written stroke by stroke.
Looking closer, he had really recorded every word Chen Xiao’er said without missing a syllable. The handwriting was ugly—like spiders crawling all over the page.
When Xiao Jiao shouted, the man calmly set his brush down, closed the brush case, put the brush away, sealed the ink slab, then neatly folded the straw paper and tucked it into his chest.
Xiao Jiao barely dodged another of Chen Xiao’er’s kicks and snapped, “Damn you, tight-lipped gourd! By the time you finish all that, we could’ve gone to the Western Heaven and brought back a scripture!”2In Journey to the West, “Western Heaven” refers to India, the land of Buddhist scriptures, seen as a holy destination.
The man finally spoke. His voice was clear and cold, like a mountain stream in winter:
“You’re not the one going to the Western Heaven.”
As soon as he spoke, Chen Xiao’er leapt toward him like a hawk pouncing on prey, intending to strike first.
But at that instant, the man reached behind his waist with both hands. Cold light burst forth like stars from heaven. With a metallic clang, sparks flew in the air!
It turned out he had drawn a short iron talisman sword from an ebony sheath in one hand, and a long inlaid steel saber in the other. Crossing them in a firm “X,” he blocked Chen Xiao’er’s leg.
“—He is!”
The man’s cold voice rang out, his gaze sharp as a blade, fixed on Chen Xiao’er.
As soon as they clashed, a murderous aura surged like a flood. Blades flashed and shadows danced—they exchanged dozens of blows in a heartbeat. The clangs of steel echoed like a wild zither strung too tight. Chen Xiao’er clicked his tongue. This opponent was formidable—calm, steady, flawless in rhythm. Possibly the strongest Xian Mountain Officer he had ever faced!
His usual techniques wouldn’t do. Chen Xiao’er waved his hand, sending the poisonous insects swarming. The buzzing horde lunged to bite, but the man took a deep breath—his body and weapons moved as one, blades whirling like butterflies, faster than the wind or lightning. Moments later, a thin layer of black mist settled on the floor—the fallen, wingless insects, writhing in vain.
His saber and sword style were both fierce, swift, and powerful. Chen Xiao’er no longer dared be careless. He threw all his strength into a strike with his iron leg, aiming for the man’s face—but his opponent’s guard was like an iron wall. Blade met sword once more—block successful. A gust tore open the hemp cloak, revealing his face.
Candlelight washed the shadows from his features. He was a handsome youth with a black cloth headband. His face was like carved jade, beautiful as pear blossoms under the moon, yet with a steely strength like forged iron.
His eyes were sharp as hunting hawks, bright and penetrating.
When Chen Xiao’er met those eyes, he felt like a field mouse facing a raptor—overwhelmed by dread. A thought flashed—he had to escape. He feinted and bolted for the door.
Still lying on the ground, Xiao Jiao shouted:
“Fang Jingyu! Go after him!”
Chen Xiao’er’s steps faltered. That name was like a needle piercing his brain. He knew that name. Fang Jingyu—the second son of the Fang family from the Langgan Guard of Xian Mountain. A rare genius in both sword and saber. And today, the man lived up to that name—shocking the world.
Yet that young man did not rush. He calmly sheathed his weapons, returned to the table, retrieved his brush case, spread out his straw paper again, and dipped into the ink.
The red-clothed girl was furious. “He’s running and you’re writing again? What the hell are you doing?!”
Fang Jingyu’s tone was chilly as he replied, “I just remembered—I forgot to write down the time of the statement and the name of the speaker. I’ll finish that before I give chase.”
Xiao Jiao watched him diligently lower his head and write, her rage boiling over. Her face turned red as a ripe apple, and after holding it in for a moment, she finally exploded:
“JUST GO, YOU STUPID GOURD!”
At the same time, Chen Xiao’er had just dashed out of the guest hall when the fierce wind and snow hit him. Outside, the snow was thick, and the frozen mist filled the sky. A figure suddenly passed by him, crashing into him head-on. Chen Xiao’er staggered, only to realize that it was the beggar who had been sleeping in the horse stable earlier. The beggar, hunched over, was holding a teapot in his hand, nearly spilling the tea.
When he saw Chen Xiao’er, his eyes widened slightly, and he casually asked, “Xiao’er ge, where are you going?”
The beggar raised the teapot slightly, and Chen Xiao’er suddenly remembered that he had asked him earlier to brew some tea for the officials of the Xian Mountain. After the officials checked, the beggar had obediently gone to the back kitchen to prepare the tea. However, with the situation now urgent, Chen Xiao’er had no time to speak, and he hurriedly dashed past the beggar like the wind.
The beggar watched him run off, his head tilted in confusion. He stood there, staring at the snowstorm as it poured down in sheets from the sky. After a short while, another figure appeared from the guest hall and crossed his path.
It was a tall, slender young man in black robes, with a cold and sharp demeanor. He was armed with a sword and dagger, crossed behind him. Upon seeing the hunched beggar holding a copper teapot, the young man calmly asked:
“Excuse me, did you happen to see a waiter in a blue robe pass by here? Do you know where he went?”
The beggar thought for a moment and pointed toward the horse stable.
The young man immediately turned and swiftly ran toward the stable, his movements as swift as a leopard.
Inside the guest hall, the sound of a red-clad girl cursing could be heard: “Fang Jingyu, that damned fool! His brain is as hard as steel! Why can’t he ever write properly, and of all times, he’s rushing to do it now!”
The one-eyed man coughed a few times and said, “Forget it, that’s just his nature. It’s my fault, really. My old injuries flared up again, or I wouldn’t have realized the cavalry was being recalled to the city. All I have is a scary appearance, but I can’t help you.”
Xiao Jiao furrowed her brow and softened her tone. “Sir, you should rest for a while. We’ll catch up with that sawed-off gourd later. He can handle it on his own.”
But the man replied, “He may be talented, but he’s still just an ordinary man who relies on hard work and sacrifice to become what he is. We can’t always depend on him. After a short rest, we’ll catch up.”
The beggar stood by the door, listening carefully to the conversation between the Xian Mountain officials.
After a moment of silence, he put down the teapot in his hand and walked toward the horse stable.
Two of the Xian Mountain officials’ horses had already been taken, leaving only a white-gray horse tied to a stone pillar. It seemed that Chen Xiao’er had taken the black steed earlier when he escaped.
The beggar squatted down in the stable and washed his face with the well water he had brought. Strangely, the red scar over his right eye, which had been there for a long time, began to fade. It turned out that the scar had been made using soft clay for facial shaping, a disguise. His right eye was unharmed.
Then, he reached into the horse manure and searched for a while before pulling out a wooden stick. After cleaning it with well water, he discovered it was a red lacquered bow. He then dug out a quiver of arrows from the straw pile; they had not been used in a long time.
The beggar’s fingers became quick and nimble, and in no time, he had strung the bow. He suddenly stood up, his shoulders, elbows, and hands perfectly aligned as he drew the bow.
The wind and snow lashed at his face as he aimed at the snowy plain. If someone had been in the stable at that moment, they would have seen the beggar’s shoulders and arms tightly aligned, his body holding the force of a tiger waiting to pounce.
He took a deep breath, opened his right eye, and pulled the bowstring.
Inside the guest hall, the one-eyed man slowly rose, with the red-clad girl supporting him.
Suddenly, a thunderous twang of a bowstring rang out from outside, causing both of them to tremble.
The one-eyed man reacted quickly, leaping to his feet. The nightmare from his past instantly surfaced in his mind, and he almost simultaneously shouted, “It’s that sound!”
“What?” Xiao Jiao asked, confused.
The one-eyed man staggered to his feet, rushing out of the guest hall. He kicked something as he left, and it tumbled, making a clanging sound, but he paid it no mind. The strong wind and snow made the world seem as though it were covered by a thick woolen blanket, the world blanketed in white. But he remembered the great desert of the previous year, the same kind of fierce wind and sand.
The sound had already deeply etched itself into his mind—it was his nightmare, the footsteps of a demon.
Shivering, the one-eyed man looked out into the snowstorm, “It’s him…”
The red-clad girl caught up from behind, looking around in confusion, “Who? There’s no one here, is there?”
The man’s gaze fell upon the stable. The stone pillar was empty, and all three horses were gone. Just then, he felt warmth at his feet and looked down, noticing the copper teapot he had kicked earlier lying at his feet.
The corridor was empty, the teapot spinning, tea splashing out.
The wind howled and the snowstorm intensified, and the man felt a chill through his body. The twang of the bowstring was etched clearly in his mind, and he gritted his teeth, his voice low as he spoke:
“It’s him… King Yama!”
___
The clouds darkened, and the snow mist swirled like gauze as two black steeds galloped swiftly through the cold, foggy air.
The moonlight, like mercury, poured over the land, outlining two figures full of murderous intent.
Having left Tongjing Village, the surroundings opened up. The young man in black robes kept his eyes fixed on the figure ahead. Though Chen Xiao’er rode a stronger, faster horse, the steed was wild, constantly bucking and resisting, making it slower than the one chasing behind.
A mile, half a mile—the distance between them gradually shrank. The young man in black had already placed one hand on his waist, ready to draw his sword.
At that moment, the young man suddenly felt a tremor, his body swaying, and he stumbled to the side. Looking down, he saw that a trap had been dug in the snow, with grass and earth covering it, probably set up by Chen Xiao’er earlier. The horse’s hooves had gotten stuck and could no longer run.
Seeing Chen Xiao’er’s figure about to disappear into the distance, the young man remained calm, took out a bamboo flute from his chest, and blew into it with all his might. The sound of a mournful wail filled the air, sharp and piercing, cutting through the night.
The horse ahead of them reared up in fright, neighing loudly. Chen Xiao’er struggled to keep his balance, nearly falling off the horse. The young man in black yelled:
“Zhaocai, come back!”3Fortune-bringer
The black steed, recognizing its master, neighed and turned around. Although the horse was wild, it still recognized its rider. Chen Xiao’er sneered, sweating profusely, and muttered, “Sir, you’ve given your horse a rather common name!”
The swords and daggers were drawn, the moonlight gleaming off the thin blades, their sharpness cold and menacing. The young man pulled the black steed out of the trap and remounted, saying, “Yes, this is a horse for ordinary people. I’m an ordinary man, and I love money.” He spurred the horse forward like the wind, his eyes flashing with intent. “And you, you’re the ‘mountain ghoul’ who killed several people from Tongjing Village, a disciple of Da Yuan Dao. A bounty of one hundred taels of silver on your head!”
The steel sword and iron leg clashed in mid-air, sending a shockwave through the snow and fog. Chen Xiao’er braced himself against the horse’s back, his feet spinning like a spinning top, using his strength to block every strike. The galloping horse passed under a tree, shaking the snow off its branches.
Chen Xiao’er sneered, “Sir, you might earn the silver, but you won’t live to spend it!”
He gathered his strength and shouted. Fragments of ice flew with his feet, like thousands of small flying daggers. The young man spun his sword and saber like wheels, blocking the ice shards, then suddenly asked:
“Why do you kill people?”
“What? Sir, do you want to persuade me?” Chen Xiao’er chuckled, licking his lips, a wicked smile on his face.
“No, it’s just that your confession is insufficient,” the young man said, his expression cold as he knocked aside the ice shards. “I can’t explain this to the Xian Mountain Guards.”
Chen Xiao’er paused, then suddenly threw his head back and laughed loudly.
“I already said, I’m waiting for ‘King Yama’ to show himself. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“Why wait for him to show up?” Fang Jingyu asked. “Is he your lover?”
Chen Xiao’er was taken aback, not understanding why he would ask that. His eyes widened, his pupils as dark as a well, reflecting no light.
“Sir, you shouldn’t make wild guesses. ‘King Yama’ is our tomorrow, our compass,” he stammered, growing more and more agitated. “Penglai has already rotted, like a tree without roots. Those who cross the Ming Sea will be reduced to slaves. This place is an endless cage. But ‘King Yama’ is different!”
Chen Xiao’er suddenly looked as if he had taken a powerful drug, his eyes burning with an intense fire. The flames seemed to burn out of his eye sockets, and they reached deep into the heart of the youth in black robes.
“The ‘King of Hell’ is invincible, wherever he goes, no one can stand against him. He acts without concern, able to break through the heavy siege of Xian Mountain, smashing through the iron walls of Penglai. He is the North Star in the sky, leading the light, our king of evil spirits!”
The youth in black robes said coldly, “So, you disguise yourself as a waiter just to kill without restraint here? To use human lives to pave the way for an audience with that fierce man?”
Chen Xiao’er sneered, “Correct! The officials of Xian Mountain are nothing but treacherous snakes and swine. How could they understand our lofty ambitions?” He snapped a mechanism on his leg, pulling out a large, black poisonous flying insect from a hidden compartment in his iron leg and held it up to his eyes.
“What is this?” the youth asked. “Your trump card?”
Chen Xiao’er laughed eerily. “Correct, but it’s not my trump card for you. It’s for…” Suddenly, he opened his mouth wide and swallowed the poisonous flying ant with a vicious grin. “It’s for me!”
Suddenly, his breathing became heavy and rapid, like an old ox plowing the fields. His muscles swelled, and veins bulged like twisted black branches along his arms. He roared, and with a stamp of his foot on the iron stirrup, he sprang up, leaping toward the youth.
After eating the poisonous insect, Chen Xiao’er seemed to have changed into a different person, moving more wildly and forcefully. The youth was momentarily stunned, while the black steed neighed loudly. He too leapt like a dragon, holding his sword in the air as he clashed with Chen Xiao’er. A burst of sparks flew, and they swiftly swapped positions, landing on each other’s steeds.
The cold wind howled, and the tree bent low. They spun on horseback in the desolate silence, like two paintings on a lantern spinning.
Chen Xiao’er laughed cruelly, “You are a man of great talent, and us ordinary people cannot compare with you. We have no choice but to rely on underhanded methods to have a fair fight with you. You must have been born with a golden spoon, never having seen the struggles of people like us, crawling through the mud. I doubt you ever thought of leaving the swaddling of Penglai, young master Fang!”
The youth said nothing, but a fine layer of sweat began to bead on his forehead. In their earlier clash, the immense force had torn open his palm, blood seeping through the bandages. The poisonous insect Chen Xiao’er swallowed seemed to temporarily enhance his strength. Now, he was facing the same madman once more.
The cold north wind felt like knives, cutting through flesh, and the chill sank into his bones, slowing the youth’s movements. Chen Xiao’er advanced once again, his legs moving like blades in the moonlight, his momentum overwhelming. As he struck with his iron leg, he activated the mechanism again, releasing another swarm of poisonous flying ants, whistling as they advanced toward the youth. But the youth was quick-witted, swinging his sword in a shower of brilliant sparks, while his other hand reached into his chest and pulled out a flute, bringing it to his lips, creating a sharp sound that interrupted Chen Xiao’er’s whistle.
Although the poisonous insects were disturbed by the sound of the flute and scattered slightly, multitasking proved fatal. The youth suddenly realized that Chen Xiao’er had flown right in front of him, his legs closing in like a pair of scissors around his head and neck.
This was a dire situation!
If he was struck by that iron leg, his head would become a pool of blood. The youth’s mind raced, and he was about to thrust his sword with great force, but just then, a wind like a lion’s roar swept by, and jade-like snowflakes scattered, blinding his vision.
In the swirling snowstorm, the gleaming iron leg drew closer, the fierce wind howling as it neared his neck. The youth’s heart nearly leapt into his throat.
Was he going to lose here, like the officials from Xian Mountain who had disappeared before? He saw Chen Xiao’er’s bloodshot eyes, filled with a crazed, bloodthirsty madness, like a vengeful spirit.
However, at that moment, a sharp eagle’s cry suddenly pierced the air from afar.
The youth’s eyes widened, and in his sight, a silver rainbow flashed across the moonlight. For just a moment, the star-like light tore through the swirling snow.
Suddenly, Chen Xiao’er seemed to be struck by a giant bell. His head jerked to the side in midair, just before his iron leg was about to strike the youth’s neck. His body was knocked away by an immense force.
A moment later, Chen Xiao’er fell to the ground, limp and collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.
Fang Jingyu, still in shock, dismounted and walked over. He saw that Chen Xiao’er had an arrow stuck in the side of his head, the arrowhead embedded in his skull, taking the life of the murderer in an instant.
The arrow shaft was engraved with characters, and under the moonlight, Fang Jingyu could see a delicate yet eerie red arrow flower carved into it.
This was the King Yama’s arrow!
His heart seemed to be struck heavily, and his whole body shook. Fang Jingyu suddenly stood up, staring into the distance. The crescent moon hung like a squinting eye, silently observing everything. In the snow mist, there was a vague figure, sitting on a horse and holding a bow.
“Wait!” The youth’s cold expression wavered for a moment. He hastily sheathed his sword, leapt onto his horse, and chased after the figure. “Stop, King Yama!”
Many questions flooded Fang Jingyu’s mind.
Who exactly was the “King Yama,” and why did he intervene in his clash with Chen Xiao’er? Since the he was an evil person, why did he save his life?
The north wind howled, and the snowflakes fell like sheets. The valleys were all white, and the world stretched out in all directions.
On the other side of the snow mist, a figure sat on a white-and-blue horse, lowering a red bow. It was none other than the beggar who had been helping at the Jishun Inn.
After shooting the arrow, he exhaled deeply. The north wind tousled his messy hair, revealing a youthful, handsome face, with sharp and striking features, his expression fierce and unyielding. Beneath his black brows, his right eye was particularly alarming, filled with an ominous aura.
That was a double pupil, one that once belonged to a tyrant. The two pupils were fused together, shaped like a reed, faintly glowing with blood-red light.
The wind and snow swirled violently. The beggar closed his eyes, letting out a wild laugh, muttering to himself:
“My hand is getting used to it.”
He turned his horse and quietly left, his figure gradually fading into the cold dust of the snowy world.
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