HCAW 74

Chapter 74: Meeting the Enemy with a Single Blade

As the hour of Mao (5:00 AM to 7:00 AM) approached, the Lei Ze naval troops boarded their warships—every soldier brimming with energy and battle spirit. Onboard, firearms and catapults were fully armed and ready for deployment.

Si Chen sat restlessly in the command cabin. In the past, she had often followed Yan Xin into battle and was already well-versed in strategy, formation deployment, and how to position the main wing and side-wing ships to spearhead attacks. She was usually stationed here to scout and issue commands. Yet, despite all her preparation, she still hesitated—these days, even though she had trained with the navy and given them orders, she had once been a dreaded “jinx.” Could she truly win their trust?

Just then, someone entered the cabin to report:

“Miss Si, the hour is upon us.”

It was an old veteran from the Lei Ze camp, covered in thick, coarse hair—even barefoot, he looked as if he were wearing straw sandals. Hence, everyone called him “Ren Straw-Shoes.”

Si Chen nodded. “I know. Where’s His Highness?”

“His Highness…” Ren Straw-Shoes hesitated, clearly awkward. “He already departed for Qingyu Gao Palace a while ago.”

“He didn’t go with us?” A chill sank into Si Chen’s heart. She had hoped that if Fang Jingyu was here, he could rally the camp, boost morale, and lead the charge.

“His Highness never agreed to move out with us. He said that day he would go to Qingyu Gao Palace alone. If we wished to follow, we were welcome to do so.”

“Of course we’re going!” Si Chen slapped the table and shouted angrily—but then slumped back down in frustration. She knew that she, and many in the troops, all held deep hatred toward the Yu Ji Guard. None would let this chance for revenge slip by. The battle today was already an arrow nocked—there was no turning back. But if Fang Jingyu wasn’t here, who would command them?

She turned to Ren Straw-Shoes, eyes pleading. He was a seasoned fighter, respected by all the soldiers. Compared to her, they would listen to him more. Ren Straw-Shoes understood her gaze but merely bowed deeply and said:

“Miss Si, please give your orders.”

Si Chen had no choice but to speak plainly:

“You lead them. You’ve been here longer than I have, and you’ve earned their respect.”

Ren Straw-Shoes grinned. “But if you lead us to take Qingyu Gao Palace, you’ll earn their respect even more.”

Sichen waved her hand. “I can’t. I’m a jinx—if I lead the troops, they’ll only feel unlucky.”

“But I think you’re the better choice.”

“Why? Because I’m the Yu Ji Guard’s daughter?”

“No,” Ren Straw-Shoes looked straight at her. “Because you’re the disciple of the Yu Jue Guard.”

Si Chen was stunned into silence, her body trembling.

She raised a hand to gently stroke her white jade earring. For a moment, she was back on that rainy night long ago.

From the night she met that towering woman, it was as if she had found a beam of light in the endless dark. The Yu Jue Guard had been made of flesh and blood—not iron and steel. The Xian Mountain Guards weren’t untouchable. The Yu Jue Guard had once extended a hand to her, asking her to seize her fate.

And now, Si Chen felt that at last, she had taken a step toward that woman’s back.

She recalled the words Yu Jue Guard once told her:

“I hope you’ll be the one to ignite Yingzhou’s fire.”

Suddenly, courage surged through her like a tide. That woman had helped her stand when she was at rock bottom. Now, even if no one offered a hand, Si Chen stood tall. She strode boldly out of the command cabin.

She stepped to the rail, overlooking the tightly organized ranks on the dock, and closed her eyes.

In that moment, it felt as if something divine possessed her. She imagined that towering woman walking out of the rain to stand beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Si Chen’s eyes snapped open, her spirit rising like the Yu Jue Guard’s, and she raised her arm and shouted:

“Brothers, march on Qingyu Gao Palace! Today, no matter the cost, we will take the Yu Ji Guard’s head!”

“Kill!” “Kill!”

Thunderous cries shook the dock. The soldiers raised their long spears, cold light gleaming, as if the tips burned with the coming dawn, scorching through the endless rain.

Oars churned and the ships surged forward, slicing through the waves. Si Chen stood tall, arms outstretched, feeling that weight on her shoulder vanish—but she knew the Yu Jue Guard hadn’t gone far. The spark she planted years ago had finally ignited within her, burning across the land.

____

Outside Qingyu Gao Palace, the battle had already begun.

The surging waters of the Ming Sea roared, and the two forces’ central ships clashed in a storm of blood and steel. Behind the battle shields, sailors fired crossbows and hurled spears, continuously feeding stone ammunition into the catapults. A curtain of water shot up between ships. Any enemy who tried to sneak up in a canoe or climb aboard was met with a full basin of molten iron poured down on their heads.

Arrows fell like swarming locusts, piercing the padded hulls like a rainstorm of steel. In an instant, the Ming Sea ran red with blood.

While war raged beyond the palace walls, the floating bridge itself had also become a battleground—an earthshaking duel now exploded atop it.

Silhouettes clashed and parted, swordlight dazzling, fierce as a tidal whale, mighty enough to stir the winds and clouds. No one dared approach their duel—for anyone who drew near would have their limbs torn off by the force of their strikes.

Chu Kuang let out a vicious, cold laugh as the Hanguang Sword split the air, cutting like dragon and tiger. The Yu Ji Guard’s golden claws lashed out, power surging skyward. In their back-and-forth exchange, the old man couldn’t help but feel a jolt of fear. He had fought this boy several times before and always thought of him as a bug easily crushed. Yet now—he stood blocking his path.

“You little brat, what’s going on with you?” the old man chuckled hoarsely, but sweat ran down his face and veins bulged grotesquely. “It’s only been a few months, and now you’ve caught up to me?”

“Months?” Chu Kuang laughed scornfully, then roared, voice hoarse and fierce, “I’ve waited nine years for this day! In my mind, I’ve fought you millions of times. I live for one reason only—to kill you!”

How could the Yu Ji Guard possibly understand such hatred? For nine years, Chu Kuang had been shackled day after day, whipped and branded, kicked and spat upon like an animal. He had been born a sacrificial pawn, never knowing his path would be so dark, so utterly without hope.

For hundreds of days and nights, pressed down upon beds, he clenched his teeth and imagined slicing this old man into a thousand pieces. Though the Langgan Guard had spies watching over him, they would never help until Emperor Bai’s heir could stand on his own. He was a fake heir, a discarded piece, a target born to be humiliated.

Hatred burned like wildfire, raging across a thousand li in a blink. He hated the Yu Ji Guard who crushed his body and soul. He hated the Langgan Guard who cast him into the mire. He hated the younger brother who remained unscathed while he suffered. He hated the world. And so, from the moment he first fell into the swamp nine years ago, “King Yama” had been born.

And today, he lived for vengeance—nothing more.

Suddenly, his body felt light and burning hot. Chu Kuang moved in complete unity—mind and sword as one. The Hanguang Sword struck with overwhelming intensity, its point flashing straight for the Yu Ji Guard.

He had once feared holding a sword—just touching one made him nauseous. That night in Lei Ze Camp, playing pitch-pot with Fang Jingyu, he had tossed the sword away and run. But the sword was always his truest weapon. He had trained from childhood under the Langgan Guard, mastering all styles of swordsmanship, distilling the seven forms of Langgan’s sword into a school of his own.

Fang Minsheng had been a once-in-a-century sword prodigy. He had been so in the past, and still was now.

At this moment, facing him, the Yu Ji Guard felt a chill in his gut. Chu Kuang’s face was twisted in a manic grin, his eyes veined with red. The seven sword techniques of the Langgan Guard—“An Inch of Gold,” “Frost in the Courtyard,” “Rainbow Over the River,” “Jade Vessel’s Water,” “Golden Thread,” “Melody in Water,” “Little Courtyard Flower”—came at him with ruthless ferocity, no mercy spared.

The Yu Ji Guard’s heart jolted:

“So the Langgan Guard has been biding his time!”

Years ago, the Langgan Guard had accompanied Emperor Bai to Fanghu and returned gravely wounded, sealed in ice and sent back to Penglai. Word later spread that he had grown weak in convalescence, slow and dull in motion. When the Yu Ji Guard sparred with him at the Fang estate, he had seemed sluggish indeed. But in the battle at Zhenhai Pass, he had shown a very different, swift and lethal hand.

Now, seeing Chu Kuang’s dazzling swordplay, the Yu Ji Guard realized how laughable it was that the Langgan Guard ranked only eighth among the Xian Mountain Guards. Swordsmanship of this caliber must have been a coiled spring held back all these years.

The Yu Ji Guard no longer held back. He stepped back and pulled out a second golden gauntlet from his pouch. Usually, he could reduce foes to pulp with bare hands. Against truly skilled warriors, he would wear one gauntlet.

But to wear both?

That honor was reserved for facing his peers among the Xian Mountain Guards.

“Come then, boy! Aside from the Xian Mountain Guards, you’re the first to make me fight for real!”

With both gauntlets on, the pressure he exuded became overwhelming. Each claw slash sent gusts howling, thunder booming. Chu Kuang blocked with his sword, but the shock made his arms quake, his bones tremble. Lacking Fang Jingyu’s iron physique, he suffered fractures after only a few exchanges.

The Yu Ji Guard laughed, “Your swordplay’s fine, but you don’t have the body to withstand a real fight. If I break you here today, I won’t get another taste of your delights in bed—what a pity, what a pity.”

Chu Kuang groaned as his arm snapped, sweat beading down his face, but he looked unaffected and sneered,

“Taste what? In a moment I’ll mince your two ounces of flesh and feed it to the pigs!”

But the Yu Ji Guard was a monster—strong as a mountain. Chu Kuang, injured now, grew sluggish. The Yu Ji Guard, thinking “a junior is still a junior,” began to pressure and mock him.

Suddenly, Chu Kuang switched to his left hand. The sword’s momentum shifted entirely as he launched into a completely different set of techniques.

The new style stunned the Yu Ji Guard—like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, his heart was in upheaval. Langgan’s sword style focused on grace—light, flicking strikes, flower-picking finesse. But what Chu Kuang wielded now was bold and ferocious—every move full of brute force.

And what shocked the Yu Ji Guard the most—this was the Silver-Masked Man’s sword technique.

Langgan’s style was defense. The Silver-Masked Man’s was relentless attack. The combination was seamless—one guarding, one pressing, woven into perfection.

The Yu Ji Guard froze, transported back to that torrential night years ago, when the Silver-Masked Man had approached with the Chengying Sword, like a ghostly revenant baring its fangs to rip out his throat.

Chu Kuang and the Silver-Masked Man overlapped in that instant—one and the same. For the first time, the Yu Ji Guard felt fear.

In a trembling voice, he asked:

“Who the hell are you?”

The young man leapt like a tiger or leopard, Hanguang Sword spinning white light like flurries of snow. In a flash, the blade was at the Yu Ji Guard’s neck, his eyes burning like twin suns.

“I’m a demon from the depths of hell. For every soul you’ve killed, I carry a thousand vengeful spirits. I am the ‘King Yama.’ Before me, all are equal in life and death. Right and wrong will be judged.”

His gaze was like a nail—driving straight through the old man.

The Yu Ji Guard suddenly noticed—Chu Kuang had clenched several pitch-black meat slices between his teeth.

He had come to die. He had come to take the Yu Ji Guard with him.

Chu Kuang growled savagely:

“You’re going down to the Eighteenth Hell—and I’ll be right there with you… Yu Ji Guard!”