Gu Wuming shouted, "You little brat, you want to blow up my hands!" He leaped up and made his move.
His move was unconventional; he reached out and pinched the boy's throat again. If he grabbed him, wouldn't another life be lost instantly? Qin Honglian cried out, "Senior brother—'I only ask for a fish'!"
She called out a sword move, which the two siblings had practiced in perfect unison. As soon as she uttered the call, her sword shot out from the left, while her senior brother's sword shot out from the right—a perfectly coordinated move. Gu Wuming couldn't help but exclaim "Eh!" He slashed with his left hand, twisting his body three times to avoid their sword strikes, muttering, "The old Emei Daoist has taught two more good disciples?" With the situation slightly eased, Qin Honglian felt a little relieved. Unexpectedly, the short man suddenly leaped up again, closing in on the boy before anyone could react, his right hand still aimed at the boy's throat. Qin Honglian hadn't expected his agility; her sword move had already slipped into the outer path, and she couldn't retract her sword in time to defend herself. A chill ran through her; she feared the boy was doomed. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight. Little Ku'er called out, "Young Master!"
Just as he was about to make his move, a deep voice said, "You must not kill him."
The voice actually came from the blind old man! His voice was deep, and his pronunciation was still awkward. As soon as he spoke, he blocked the boy's throat with his left sleeve, and Gu Wuming's claw struck his sleeve with a "clang," like hitting metal or stone. No one present was confident that they could block Gu Wuming's attack, but his block actually deflected Gu Wuming's claw!
Gu Wuming let out a strange laugh, flashed back, and immediately launched a second attack, still aimed at the young man. The blind old man once again blocked it with a flick of his sleeve. Gu Wuming, instead of being angry, laughed, seemingly quite excited. He somersaulted backward, rolled twice in the air, then paused, seemingly suspended in mid-air for a second before landing.
The "Green and Red Swords" came from a prestigious family and had exceptional knowledge, but even they didn't know what kind of kung fu it was.
Gu Wuming seemed to have figured something out and chuckled strangely, "Old man Gong, the thing in your sleeve is quite hard. Let me see it!"
The blind old man's expression turned serious: "Such a sacred object, how could a demon like you possibly have the right to see it?"
Gu Wuming chuckled strangely, "There aren't many things in this world that can withstand my 'child's mother's' grab; it must be a treasure. I never imagined that piece of stubborn iron would actually be so hard! Old man Gong, you were trapped in Stone Man Mountain for ten years, yet you still managed to guard this thing. You said the 'Iron Certificate of Immunity' disappeared for nearly ten years, and now it has reappeared in the martial world. Why is that?"
The blind old man's expression turned serious: "With the ironclad pardon issued, justice in the martial world will be served! — What do you think is the reason?"
Gu Wuming laughed and said, "Do you still think of yourself as the 'Iron Certificate Left Envoy' from ten years ago? Ten years ago, I, Gu Wuming, was afraid of you. Now that you've been trapped in Stone Man Mountain for ten years, do you still think you have the same prestige as before?"
The blind old man said with a righteous expression, "Even if I, Gong Changchun, only have 30% of my strength left, I can still easily defeat you."
Suddenly, Gu Wuming looked up to the sky and shouted, "The iron certificate of immunity from death is right here! Seven demons, eight ghosts, five foxes, and ten saints, aren't you going to come out?"
He spoke without hesitation, and Dong Banpiao, half-gritting his teeth, retreated and vanished. He didn't even call out to his disciples; everyone else was focused on the scene, so no one noticed. Then, a lively scene broke out outside the shop: there were musicians playing instruments, opera singers, hawkers calling out their wares, and chanting… male and female voices singing, and countless people had arrived. The blind old man, Gong Changchun, sighed and said calmly, "What seven demons and eight ghosts, five foxes and ten saints? Where would the Demonic Sect have so many people left? Zeng Yide, 'Silent Zen,' don't pretend. I know you're all alone. Save your breath."
There was silence outside the door, and then someone laughed and said, "Old Gong is indeed Old Gong. Even after being locked up for ten years, he can still see through my ventriloquism."
Then a sinister voice came: "And what about me? Am I not human?"
The sound was quite far away, a good mile away, faint and mournful, swaying and echoing, indescribably heart-wrenching. Then everyone heard the sound of a clapper being struck outside the shop, and a plaintive voice singing: "Selling wontons, selling wontons."
The mournful cries were like the saddest song in a long, desolate night. Sorrow can be deadly, and the cries sounded like those of a street vendor on the road to the underworld. "Wontons for sale! Wontons for sale!" the cries grew closer and closer. One of the young men from the "Five Phoenix Blades," hot-blooded and overcome with grief, couldn't help but burst into tears. Even the "Green and Red Twin Swords" felt a pang of sorrow. Little Ku'er, however, was oblivious. Naturally optimistic, seeing that his young master had been rescued and was no longer a worry, he chuckled and said, "I want a bowl."
The wonton vendor was using the "Great Compassion Mantra" to bewitch the crowd. This "Great Compassion Mantra" originally originated from Shaolin. Among the seventy-two arts of Shaolin is one called "Lion's Roar," originally a Buddhist chant created to purify the mind and eliminate inner demons. Unexpectedly, eighty years ago, a senior Shaolin monk, originally a skilled layman, renounced the world due to heartbreak. Although he entered Buddhism, his heartache persisted. Whenever he was heartbroken, he would chant, unintentionally creating the "Great Compassion Mantra," a martial art separate from "Lion's Roar." This skill later fell into the hands of a demonic sect and became its prized possession. The wonton vendor intended to use this unique art to subtly disturb the minds of the crowd.
Unexpectedly, Little Bitter's natural optimism prevented him from falling into her trap. He suddenly shouted, silencing the man's chanting. The man felt a surge of anger and sorrow, realizing he hadn't managed to harm himself but instead was. Fortunately, Little Bitter's martial arts skills were limited, and the attack was unintentional; otherwise, he might have vomited blood on the spot. In his anger, everyone in the shop heard a "whoosh."
With a thud, a bowl of wontons burst through the window, steaming hot. It turned out he really wasn't faking selling wontons.
The bowl of wontons arrived rather strangely. The window that the Black Door God had broken open was now in trouble; though it had been repaired, it was broken open again, and a gust of cool wind rushed in. The bowl of wontons floated gently past everyone's noses. Someone outside called out, "Didn't you want wontons? Here you go!"
Who in the shop dared to accept it? When the wonton seller had started chanting earlier, the blind old man's heart trembled, and he almost lost control. His life had been filled with sorrow, and this "Great Compassion Mantra" struck at his weakest point, leaving him feeling endless grief and worldly troubles. Had it not been for Little Bitter's cry, tears would likely have welled in his deep, abyss-like eyes. He had been trapped on Stone Man Mountain for ten years, and although he had finally survived, the extent of the damage to his internal energy was something even he himself could hardly comprehend. The illustrious reputation of "Left Protector of the Coupons," Gong Changchun, was nearly ruined here. Others were unaware of these details, but the blind old man turned his head towards the source of Little Bitter's voice. Though he had no eyes, he seemed to be carefully "looking" at Little Bitter with a sense deeper than sight.
The blind old man sighed softly, "You've come too. Liaodong is so remote. I never expected that I, Gong Changchun, would meet such a master so soon after leaving the mountains. How fortunate, how fortunate!"
The man outside the shop laughed and said, "Old Gong, if you don't come out, no matter how much we want that piece of iron, we really won't be able to find you."
Even if we knew your whereabouts, very few would dare to enter Stone Man Mountain. Your decision to come out this time was a huge mistake!
Inside the shop, Gu Wuming laughed and said, "What did he do wrong? If he doesn't come out, where are we going to find this 'Ironclad Certificate of Immunity'? And if we can't find the 'Ironclad Certificate of Immunity,' how can we break the 'Curse of the Servant'?"
The man selling wontons outside the shop laughed and said, "Little Gu, don't get too cocky. He didn't come out for you. He came out with the voucher because some earth-shattering injustice has happened. How ridiculous! This old man is so old, yet he still thinks he's righteous, holding that piece of stubborn iron and trying to save people."
Zeng Yide, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke up: "Wrongful conviction? What wrongful conviction? How come I don't know about it?"
Gu Wuming blurted out: "It's 'the lone monk'..."
Before he could finish speaking, Zeng Yide outside the door exclaimed "Ah!" and the wonton seller angrily interrupted, "Little Gu, are you tired of living? Don't drag everyone down with you!"
Gu Wuming, who was fearless, quickly covered his mouth with a hand after being scolded. As if that wasn't enough, his round eyes swept around the people present, like a child who had said or done something wrong, hoping no one had heard or seen it. Although he was cut off from his next words, Zeng Yide outside the door still said in a trembling voice, "Gong Changchun still wants to take on a case like this? Has he really gone mad?"
In his desperation, he unconsciously resorted to ventriloquism, and the only sound that could be heard in the room was the echo of "Crazy, crazy, crazy..."
Qin Honglian and Zhang Jian were both completely bewildered, but then they saw a look of solemn admiration rise on the face of the blind old man, Gong Changchun:
"A true man has a way of living that you common folk don't understand."
His dark eyes looked at the crowd, and although they were empty, they sent chills down everyone's spines. He said very slowly, "As long as I, Gong Changchun, am alive, the 'Iron Certificate of Immunity from Death' will not be left idle."
The voice was deep and resonant, spreading outwards. The young man glanced at Gong Changchun, feeling that this was the kind of integrity and spirit he hadn't found in his six months of wandering the martial world.
After he finished speaking, he paused for a moment, and then heard three strange laughs, each with its own distinct flavor, coming from inside and outside the door: "hmm," "hehe," and "haha." They were slightly impressed by Gong Changchun's uprightness, but they were even more determined to kill him to vent their anger.
Gu Wuming suddenly shouted, "Old Gong is spouting his high-sounding tune again. We're not here to discuss scriptures and doctrines. Zeng, where are you attacking him?"
All that was heard was Zeng Yide's words: "Ears!"
Another wonton vendor called out, "I'll treat him to a bowl of wonton noodles." Before he finished speaking, a bowl of wontons flew through the window, aiming straight for Gong Changchun's chest. Gong Changchun had already suffered a great loss of internal energy from his trip out of seclusion, and with a flick of his sleeve, he sent the bowl of noodles flying back. The move was received with great grace, but Gu Wuming, with his sharp eyes, had already seen that a little soup had spilled from the bowl as Gong Changchun had flicked his sleeve. This was not the style of "Changchun Sword" Gong in his prime; it seemed his internal injuries were indeed quite severe.
Seeing an opening, he clapped his hands together, aiming straight for Gong Changchun's ribs. Gong Changchun chuckled, unable to block Gu Wuming's attack with his fingers and palms, and could only respond with the iron sword hidden in his sleeve. With a clang, Gu Wuming's attack was deflected.
Outside the door, the sound of wooden wedges being hammered could be heard, as if someone were nailing together a stage in the midst of the boredom of this cold night. Then, male and female voices, old and young, came in waves of laughter and chatter; then, the gong sounded on the stage, and a woman's voice sang in a melodious voice: "I was born a precious pearl, how did I end up in Pingkang? In front of others, I put on a coquettish act, but in secret, I shed countless tears."
...There are ten cups of gold and pearls there, to redeem Yunniang...
As soon as the voice rang out, Zhang Jian saw Gong Changchun's previously calm face flutter, as if something painful had been touched upon. The voice outside the door suddenly rose in intensity: "Brother Chun, you're speaking up for others, but have you ever considered that you've betrayed me, Yunniang!"
With a clang, Gong Changchun failed to catch the bowl the wonton vendor was throwing at him again, and the entire bowl of wonton noodles spilled onto the ground. The wontons among the noodles had thin wrappers and vibrant green fillings—they seemed of high quality—but for some reason, everyone watching felt that if these wontons were placed in front of them, they wouldn't dare eat them. Just then, the square tiles on the ground screeched.
A wisp of white smoke rose from the ground, a section of which had been hollowed out by the wonton soup. What kind of wonton noodles were these!
Then Gu Wuming shouted, "Old man Gong, hand over the iron certificate, and I'll spare your life!"
Gong Changchun snorted.
Seeing that the old man still looked down on him even in this situation, Gu Wuming was furious and shouted, "You're finished!" He slashed down with his claw, and with another bowl of noodles coming from outside the window, the old blind man's sleeve was torn with a "rip". Then the second claw came, and with a "crack", Gu Wuming flew back and laughed strangely. Gong Changchun's arm was completely exposed, covered in blood, and the white bones were also exposed.
Just as Gu Wuming was preparing to seize the opportunity and take down Old Man Gong, a kitchen helper suddenly shouted from the back of the shop, "Oh no! The oil's on fire!"
Gu Wuming initially intended to ignore it, but the flames from the burning oil were incredibly strong. With a "bang," a spray shot straight towards the roof beams, startling him. Turning around—and sure enough! A large pot of oil in the kitchen behind him had just caught fire, instantly filling the air with its fragrant aroma. A cook in his thirties, standing by the pot, seemed to panic and scooped up a full ladle of water, pouring it into the oil! Wouldn't that cause an explosion? Cries of "Ouch! Ouch!" echoed through the shop as the oil splattered, incredibly hot, unlike any hidden weapon. Its attack was fierce and unpredictable, even scalding Gu Wuming, a master, let alone the disciples of the "Five Phoenix Blades." Qin Honglian was the most terrified. Being a young woman, she naturally valued her appearance and quickly covered her face with her sleeve. Her senior brother, knowing her sensitivity, then used his broad back to completely shield her. In an instant, chaos erupted inside the shop. Outside, Zeng Yide and the wonton seller saw only a fire and cries of alarm, unsure of what had happened. The wonton seller, adhering to the unwritten rule of "never enter a chaotic place," remained calm, while Zeng Yide had already slipped inside. He immediately saw the oil in the pot was ablaze. Quick as lightning, he took off his clothes, grabbed a bag of sand from the window, and slipped back in. With a flick of his wrist, he poured the sand evenly over the flames, extinguishing the oil instantly. He then stuffed the remaining sand, along with his clothes, into the stove's vent.
The shop was quiet for a moment—but in that short time, everyone looked closely and realized that the young master and servant, along with the blind old man, had all disappeared!
Gu Wuming had the most explosive temper. He grabbed the chef by the collar and said fiercely, "You son of a bitch, you've driven away the person I wanted."
The cook trembled, too frightened to speak. Zeng Yi said, "That old bastard is injured; he probably can't have gone far, especially with those two brats tripping him up. Let's hurry and chase after him!"
Gu Wuming had already lost the chef's collar and leaped out of the window, eager to give chase. But he heard the sinister laugh of the wonton seller outside the window: "I'm afraid that old man Gong didn't escape far. He might be hiding in the kitchen. Heh heh, showing off his 'hiding in the tiger's mouth' trick in front of me."
Gu Wuming slapped his forehead and chuckled, "You, Zhou Huntun, are still the smartest. I almost fell for that old fox's trick again." As he spoke, he sniffed hard, "I can already smell the human flesh behind the stove."
His expression was almost grotesque as he spoke, and Qin Honglian couldn't tell if he was just bluffing or serious; she only felt her stomach churning. At that moment, the smoke dissipated slightly, but the embers in the stove remained, and there was a "Five Phoenix Knife"...
Suddenly, the young man exclaimed "Ah!" and everyone followed his gaze. They saw three figures reflected low on the wall behind the stove by the firelight. Everyone knew in their hearts that it was none other than the blind old man Gong Changchun and his servant Xiao Ku'er.
Gu Wuming, Zeng Yide, and Zhou Huntun exchanged glances, then the three leaped into the kitchen and slowly approached the stove. They knew that although Gong Changchun was injured, his dying counterattack might be formidable, so they were extremely cautious. Everyone in the shop was on tenterhooks. Although Qin Honglian was extremely worried about the young master and servant, her senior brother had already grasped her hand, seemingly urging her to plan carefully. Looking into her usually confident senior brother's eyes, Qin Honglian understood that under the combined attack of these three masters, even if she and her brother fought with all their might, it would be like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. Zhou Huntun's voice rang out first: "Old man Gong, this is the first time Zhou Huntun has abandoned her wonton stand. I just wanted to treat you to a bowl of noodles, why are you so shy like a bride?"
Faint breathing could be heard coming from behind the stove, but the three men didn't stand up, leaving Gu Wuming and his two companions uncertain. Zhou Huntun, the most meticulous and cunning of the three, looked at Gu Wuming, then pointed to the sky, indicating that he should attack from above; he then looked at Zeng Yide, pointed to the right, then to himself, then to the left, indicating that he and Zeng Yide would flank from two directions. Just as the three were about to make their move, they suddenly heard the cook say in a hoarse, trembling voice, "Gentlemen, what are you doing in my kitchen?"
The scene was already tense and urgent, even a fool could sense it, so Zhou Wonton was surprised that someone dared to speak up. Everyone looked over and saw that the speaker was the same kitchen helper who had foolishly tried to put out the fire on the oil with a ladle of water. His face was covered in grease, and his eyes and eyebrows were blackened by the smoke, making it impossible to tell his age.
He stared blankly at Gu Wuming and the other two, who were also dumbfounded, unable to believe that there could be such a fool in the world. They were speechless at his question. The kitchen helper said, "The sacred stove and the divine stove are where people come and go—this is the rule of our kitchen. How dare you just walk in like that?"
Gu Wuming chuckled shrilly: "Heh, this silly kid's really messing with us! We're in now, what do you want?"
The cooks lowered their heads: "I dare not do anything, but I'm afraid there's something in this kitchen that won't allow it."
His tone was extremely weak, as if he were terrified of the three men's ferocity. Gu Wuming, his face contorted with rage, roared:
"What is it? The Kitchen God?"
The kitchen helper whispered, "These are the Kitchen God's three treasures for protecting the stove." As he spoke, he stretched out a hand and reached into the still-scalding oil pot, though the fire had gone out. Although Qin Honglian looked fierce like a tiger, she was a kind-hearted girl and thought the kitchen helper had gone mad. She cried out, "Hot! Be careful! Are you crazy!"
The man looked up and smiled at Qin Honglian, saying, "I'm like a madman." For some reason, Qin Honglian felt a strange unease at his smile. Zhou Huntun seemed to have figured something out and suddenly exclaimed, "Wei Buping, it's you..." He wanted to say, "You're just playing tricks," but before he could finish, "Wei Buping" slammed his hand on the stove, laughing, "I'm not the same Wei Buping I used to be!" The oil in the pot, which had been still, suddenly burst open like spilled gold beads, shooting into the air and exploding towards Gu Wuming and the other two. The man, seemingly unfazed by the heat, reached into the remaining oil and pulled a sword. The sword, upon appearing, shone brightly, and even more astonishing was the force of the wind it created—carrying thousands of oil droplets, like a sparrow spreading its golden screen, slicing through the still-smoky kitchen. Zhang Jian cried out in surprise, "It's Wei Buping's 'Oil-Hidden Sword'!"
The man laughed loudly, "The sword is truly 'oil-filled,' and the man is no longer 'unjust'!" With that laugh, he drew his sword, and Gu Wuming, Zeng Yide, and Zhou Huntun were attacked simultaneously. Gu Wuming was the smallest, yet he was burned the most by the boiling oil. He screamed in agony and roared, "Damn it!" His small hands reached for the man's throat.
The man laughed and said, "'Mother of my child,' 'Mother of my child,' practicing this skill will only harm your own body. No wonder you will never grow up."
He had barely finished uttering the word "big" when he opened his mouth and lunged to bite Gu Wuming's outstretched, chubby little hands.
Gu Wuming had honed his skills with these hands for over thirty years, but for some reason, upon seeing the man's gleaming white teeth, he dared not let him bite. With a strange cry, he withdrew his attack and retreated. The man then attacked Zeng Yide with his sword, the blade blinding Zeng Yide. The oil droplets kicked up by the sword mostly struck him. Zeng Yide let out a strange cry, lifting his robe to cover his head and face, completely obscuring his body. However, the robe was stained beyond recognition with oil. He casually tore it off—he had already taken off one robe while putting out the fire, but there was another underneath. It was unclear how he wore so many robes; one he took off, another appeared, and yet another appeared underneath, as endlessly as his ventriloquism—his face suddenly darkened, and he even changed his expression. It was the 'face-changing' technique of the Demonic Sect.
Suddenly, his face turned deathly pale, and his eyebrows swept down like two black brooms, making him look like a ghost of death.
The man laughed and said, "Zeng Yide, hehe, you've used up all your hidden skills."
Zeng Yide hurriedly dodged the oil droplet, and Zhou Huntun deflected the sword thrust at him. This was a true head-on collision. The moment Zhou Huntun's iron clapper, used for hawking wontons, touched the sword, it clanged loudly, its sharp point piercing everyone's ears, causing a buzzing sound that made them uncomfortable for a long time, let alone Zhou Huntun himself. He parried the sword and immediately retreated, shouting, "That's tough!" Then he retreated. Zeng Yide and Gu Wuming were his close friends, and they knew at a glance that he was retreating back to Huntun's stall, where all of Zhou Huntun's magical weapons were kept.
The man, his sword fixed on Zhou Wonton, pursued him relentlessly, with Zeng Yide and Gu Wuming following suit. The four of them leaped from the kitchen into the hall with lightning speed, then out the window. Zhou Wonton was already near his wonton stand, his back to him, catching his breath. Qin Honglian and the Five Phoenix Knife disciples looked out the window and saw the men tumbling and fighting, disappearing into the night in the blink of an eye.
Qin Honglian and Zhang Jian exchanged a glance. Just then, a rather peculiar whistle came from outside. The Five Phoenix Saber disciples in the hall changed their expressions, looked at each other, and in the blink of an eye, they all turned and disappeared. Zhang Jian patted his junior sister's shoulder, then leaped out of the window and chased after Gu Wuming and the other three, saying, "I'll hold them off for now, Lian-mei. You can come along later."
Turning around, Qin Honglian saw that the once bustling inn was now empty and in disarray, and a sense of desolation welled up inside her. Everyone in the kitchen had vanished, and only the innkeeper remained, his legs trembling, standing on the counter in the hall—not because he didn't want to leave, but because he was paralyzed and unable to move. Looking behind the stove, Qin Honglian saw a shadow rise on the wall, and then appear—sure enough, it was the blind old man and his servant, Xiao Ku'er.
The blind old man looked desolate, seemingly never imagining that he, Gong Changchun, would one day be reduced to hiding from the enemy. Little Ku'er, on the other hand, grinned broadly, finding the scene quite amusing. His master, meanwhile, stared at the mess of oil and wood scattered on the ground, lost in thought. —For some reason, looking at his expression, Qin Honglian felt that he was probably experiencing the same thoughts she had just had.
Gong Changchun sat down at the table. He was blind, yet he seemed to see everything. He walked without any stumbling or falling, which made Qin Honglian look at him with some doubt. He seemed to have guessed, and smiled at Qin Honglian, saying, "Young lady, you don't need to be suspicious. This old man is really blind."
Qin Honglian blushed.
The blind old man chuckled: "Some people have bright eyes, but their hearts are blind."
As he spoke, he glanced meaningfully at the young man and said, "Although my eyes are blind, my heart is not."
Qin Honglian felt even more embarrassed. Eager to change the subject, she asked, "Is the 'Senior' the 'Eternal Spring Sword' Master Gong from back then?"
The blind old man smiled and nodded.
Qin Honglian then asked, "Who was that person just now? Was he Wei Buping?"
She seemed particularly sensitive to the name Wei Buping, as if she wanted to talk to him about something.
The blind old man sighed, "Besides Wei Buping, the Right Envoy protecting the 'Ironclad Certificate of Immunity,' who else could it be? He was heartbroken by the decline of morality in the martial world, and repeatedly framed himself. He refused to continue using the name 'Buping,' changing it to Wei Suian, meaning 'content with one's lot.' In a fit of anger, he withdrew from the martial world, dragging his tail through the mud, calling himself a 'great hermit in the city,' and from then on, he didn't care about the affairs of the martial world. But could that childhood habit of fighting for justice be completely suppressed, no matter how many setbacks he suffered? Heh heh, I didn't expect him to be here today. And he finally couldn't resist making a move. I, the blind man, just wanted to see if this Right Envoy truly cared about what I, the Left Envoy, had to do? It turns out he hasn't completely forgotten his duties as both envoys protecting the certificate."
With his intervention, our two guardians of the document can be reunited, and it's time to clear our names of that injustice.
Little Bitter asked curiously, "A wrongful conviction? But what kind of wrongful conviction?"
The blind old man stared blankly at the dark night outside the broken window, and after a long while said:
Have you heard of the legends of the 'degenerates'?
Qin Honglian was taken aback. "Degenerate people?" This was the first time she had ever heard such a term.
The owner of the little boy seemed to be quite knowledgeable, as he was familiar with this story. He then interjected to explain:
"I do know a little about this—it is said that in Shaoxing and Ningbo in Zhejiang and Changshu in Jiangsu, there is a group of people who are born as 'degraded people,' and they are not registered with the common people in the official household register, but are called 'beggar households.' However, they do not make a living by begging; most of them have other occupations. It is said that their ancestors once opposed the government, and it seems that some of them surrendered to the false dynasty. After being defeated by the government, in the midst of the slaughter, the remaining people, along with their wives and children, were all demoted to the status of lowly people. According to the regulations, the imperial court of each dynasty has decreed: 'They are not allowed to occupy the occupations of the four classes; they are not allowed to use the occupations of the four classes; they are not allowed to wear the clothing of the four classes.' That is to say, they are listed separately from the four classes of scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants as a humiliation. The men mainly engage in lowly jobs such as playing drums, acting, and carrying sedan chairs, while the women do odd jobs such as matchmaking, boat pulling, selling pearls, and midwifery. Some also make a living by doing small handicrafts." Ordinary people generally did not intermarry with them, nor were they allowed to interact with ordinary people on an equal footing. They were also barred from taking the imperial examinations and entering officialdom, and were relegated to the work of servants. During their spare time, they were required to work for wealthy local families, their status extremely low—this was the so-called 'degraded people' of the Jiangnan region.
Qin Honglian was taken aback, and stammered, "Isn't that very unfair?"
Gong Changchun sighed, "Yes, it's very unfair. But more than twenty years ago, an extraordinary figure emerged from among the fallen people." He looked out the window and said coldly, "His name was—Ju Tianze!"
Qin Honglian exclaimed "Ah!" but quickly covered her mouth with her hand, as if she had a deep impression of the name. She took a breath before saying, "Is it that 'Blazing Sword, Scoundrel' Ju Tianze, who seduced and deceived countless people, killed countless people, and made the people of the Five Sects and Three Alliances unable to do anything about him?"
The blind old man said calmly, "The rumors you heard may be exaggerated, but they are not wrong. It is that 'prodigal son' Ju Tianze. He named himself 'Survival of the fittest,' adding the word 'Ju' in front of it, which shows the bitter anger in his heart. In the world today, when it comes to martial arts, I'm afraid apart from a dozen or so reclusive masters, there is probably no one who can surpass him."
"For more than two hundred years since the previous dynasty, the common people have been able to be humiliated at will in the marketplace and in the Jianghu. But if they are suppressed too much, they will inevitably become more violent. In many cases, I suppose we can't blame them."
He paused there, and Qin Honglian, hearing this story of the martial arts world for the first time, murmured, "Why didn't my father or my master ever tell me about this?"
—Her father was Qin Tieshan, the lord of Taiping Fort in Shanxi, and her master was Wu Tianzi, one of the top masters of the Emei Sect—
—Gong Changchun smiled faintly: "The Emei Sect's 'One Lineage Heart Sutra' was forcibly taken away by him. Taipingbao in Shanxi, hehe, was also severely humiliated by him back then. It's only natural that they avoid talking about this matter."
The blind old man, Gong Changchun, straightened his face and said, "Seventeen years ago, Ju Tianze rose up in rebellion. He lamented his own fate, refused to accept discrimination, and with great perseverance, mastered the 'Heaven-Mending Technique,' a skill no one had cultivated for centuries. After mastering it, he even founded the Fallen People Sect. Heh heh, at that time, their influence was so great that everyone trembled in fear. They fought against ordinary people in the countryside, against the emperor and officials in the fifteen southeastern states, and against the seven sects and nine factions in the martial arts world. He once led his followers to join the Demonic Cult, but the Demonic Cult, thinking they had gained powerful support, oppressed him greatly, so he rebelled against them. Afterwards, they became enemies with powerful bandits and outlaws in the greenwood, and even in unorthodox sects, they did not hesitate to confront the 'Demonic Cult,' which had been known as the number one unorthodox sect in the world for thousands of years."
Although he was arrogant and unruly, he possessed a noble character. I don't know about others, but I, Gong Changchun, have always held him in high esteem.
Little Ku'er's expression changed slightly. The room was dimly lit, so no one else could see it. He asked, "And then what happened?"
Gong Changchun sipped the now-cold ginger soup and coldly chuckled, "Later?... Later, on the third day of the ninth month sixteen years ago..." He quietly raised his face, as if the scene was still vivid in his mind. He paused, not wanting to continue. "He defeated countless masters and elders from various prestigious martial arts sects. He never concealed his humble origins, yet he was even more arrogant than those from renowned sects. Alone with his sword, he single-handedly challenged numerous major sects, including Kongtong, Qilian, Wudang, Shaolin, Taipingbao in Shanxi, and the Twelve Linked Forts of the Yangtze River—after each victory, he would use a red brush dipped in blood to frantically inscribe 'The Fallen People, Ju Tianze, have utterly humiliated this sect here,' and display it above their gates as a sign of deep disgrace. Then..."
He then faced a fierce battle that would likely be unprecedented and unparalleled in the martial arts world for centuries to come. In fact, wherever he went, he became the public enemy of the martial arts world—all the major sects regarded him as an enemy, declaring that everyone had the right to kill him; he had incurred the wrath of the masses. At that time, the nine sects, seven families, and three palaces and two fortresses of the martial arts world formed an alliance, making the elimination of Ju Tianze their top priority.
In an instant, the world was in turmoil. He had made too many enemies; even the members of the Demonic Sect resented him. At that time, it could be said that he had nowhere to hide, whether in heaven or on earth.
For some reason, even though she knew this man was her enemy from Taipingbao in Shanxi, Qin Honglian couldn't help but admire his heroic deeds. A pang of sorrow gripped her heart, and she murmured, "Is there really no one else in the world willing to help him?"
Gong Changchun shook his head: "No."
Little Bitter's face was pale.
Then Gong Changchun sighed again, "But then it happened."
Qin Honglian was taken aback. Who would dare to help this person who had incurred such deep-seated hatred? Gong Changchun said calmly, "That's the person Hu Bantian and Hai Dongqing were fighting over."
He looked out the window, seemingly unsure of his own feelings: "That is the 'evil monk' whom all the righteous people in the martial arts world curse but respect in their hearts."
He suddenly stopped speaking, turned to look at Xiao Ku'er, and said, "Come here."
Little Ku'er grinned mischievously and walked up to him. Gong Changchun reached out and grabbed his shoulders with both hands. His hands were icy cold. Little Ku'er cried out, "What are you doing?" Gong Changchun then ran his hands down his shoulders. This touch was not like a normal touch; it was sometimes heavy and sometimes light, and a stream of true energy, sometimes cool and sometimes hot, flowed from his hands. He murmured, "Good bone structure, good bone structure."
Little Ku'er felt an indescribable tingling and itching discomfort. One moment she was tickled and wanted to laugh, the next she was in pain and grimaced, but she still said playfully, "Do you want to take me as your apprentice? But I don't want to learn from you. Our young master may not look like he's skilled, but he's a master in this area. I'd rather learn from him than from you."
The blind old man's expression grew increasingly solemn. When he reached out with both hands to Xiao Ku'er's dantian, he was taken aback, as if he had encountered something he hadn't expected. Suddenly, a yang-like internal energy emanated from his palms. After a slight test, he felt that the true energy in Xiao Ku'er's dantian was barely perceptible. The blind old man looked surprised and asked, "What's your name?"
Little Bitter was pinched so hard that he was making a face, but he said with a grin, "Little Bitter."
The blind old man asked with a strange expression, "Is your surname Yu?"
Qin Honglian was staring blankly at the boy, unaware of the change in Xiao Ku'er's expression. Suddenly, Xiao Ku'er's expression changed, and he twisted away from the blind old man's grasp, muttering as if he had seen a ghost, "I'm not surnamed Yu, I have no surname, I'm a child without a surname."
The blind old man seemed to have anticipated his reaction and reached out to grab him again, but the little boy took a step back and slipped away.
The blind old man seemed surprised that his grab had failed him. He flipped his left hand and reached for Xiao Ku'er's shoulder again. This move was far more skillful than Dong Banpiao's earlier attack. Xiao Ku'er should have been no match for him, but he dodged and spun beautifully, using a completely different technique than when facing Dong Banpiao. Gong Changchun missed again. Gong Changchun chuckled, "Not bad, not bad, indeed the 'Horse in a Gap' footwork. Tell me, what is your connection with 'Zhiyan Zhai'?"
Meanwhile, Qin Honglian was engaging the young man in conversation when she suddenly saw them grabbing and dodging, and she was taken aback. She heard Xiao Ku'er whisper, "I don't know anything about 'a horse in a crack,' let alone 'Zhiyan Zhai.'"
"Old blind man, stop talking nonsense!"
The blind old man's expression turned solemn as he said in a low voice, "You've come here for him too, haven't you?"
Little Bitter's face darkened: "I don't know what you're talking about."
The blind old man suddenly looked up at the sky with his blind eyes, his expression indescribably strange, and muttered, "Well, the 'Horse in a Gap' footwork has actually appeared. Could it be that there is still a flame of resistance left in the world?"
Little Ku'er flipped over and jumped out of the broken window. The boy exclaimed, "Hey!" and cried out, "Ku'er, what are you doing?"
Little Bitter Child called out from outside the window, "I want to feel the breeze."
His voice, carried by the wind in the vast night, trembled with a choked quality. The blind old man suddenly raised his eyes, and tears streamed down his empty gaze. The tears flowed rather strangely, and Qin Honglian and the young man, only then looking at him, were momentarily stunned.
It took Gong Changchun a while to come to his senses and then he asked the young man, "Young man, what is your surname?"
The young man politely replied, "My surname is Yan."
After thinking for a moment, he added, "Yan Xianmei."
Gong Changchun looked thoughtful: "I wonder if there is any connection between them and the Yan family of Shandong?"
The young man sighed. He hadn't wanted to reveal his background, but his words had been seen through. He seemed unaccustomed to lying and could only acquiesce. Qin Honglian, however, exclaimed "Oh!" from the side—the Yan family of Jinan was a renowned family in the martial arts world, but in recent years it had declined and was rarely mentioned in the martial arts community. The young man did indeed possess the air of a scion of a noble family, but Gong Changchun murmured, "Why would he hide in the Yan family and become just an ordinary servant? —Could it be that, could it be that, even after more than ten years, they are still hunting him down?"
Qin Honglian was taken aback. Gong Changchun had already taken a sip of the cold tea on the table, and with a flip, he had already climbed out of the window.
Little Ku'er was standing in the cold wind outside the window. He came to Little Ku'er's side and suddenly asked gently, "You said your surname isn't Yu, so what is it?"
For the first time, Xiao Ku'er's expression turned serious, her face flushed with anger as she said, "My surname is Gan, and my given name is Gan Ku'er. Go ahead and tell everyone! What do you want? What do you want?"
Gong Changchun was stunned for a moment, then seemed to realize what he meant, but he laughed heartily and said, "Good, Gan Ku'er! Good, good name! You mustn't let down the reputation your father once held!"
Amidst laughter, he had already taken off in pursuit of the direction where "Oil Storage Sword" Wei Buping had gone.
Little Ku'er watched Gong Changchun walk away before turning back into the house. Yan Xianmei seemed to be a man of few words, but Little Ku'er was quite talkative, chatting and laughing incessantly with Qin Honglian. At one point, he said, "Sister, you're so beautiful! How old are you this year?"
As he spoke, he glanced at their young master, as if asking on his behalf. Qin Honglian was taken aback, not wanting to answer, but not answering seemed inappropriate. After thinking for a moment, she took out a small handful of red beans from her bosom and scattered them on the table.
She laughed and said, "Young man, this is the first time I've met you, so I don't have any gifts. But these few beans are a miraculous healing medicine made by my master. You asked my age? It's in these beans. Let's see how clever you are."
Curious, Little Bitter took the beans to look at them. He saw that the beans seemed to be natural, but they were actually pills.
Qin Honglian was a disciple of Master Wutian of Emei, and the "Golden Peak Beans" of Emei were renowned for their excellent healing properties. She generously gave away a whole bunch, demonstrating her generosity and affection for the master and servant. Xiao Ku'er noticed that each bean was engraved with a number from one to sixteen. Qin Honglian then dipped her finger in wine and drew a square on the table, sixteen squares in total. She laughed and said, "Place the beans one square at a time. The numbers on the beans should add up horizontally, vertically, and diagonally to a number, then subtract about fifteen or sixteen, and that's my age."
Xiao Ku'er was taken aback—he hadn't expected asking her age to be so troublesome. Just then, a low whistle came from outside the window. Qin Honglian, recognizing it as her senior brother calling her, smiled at the two of them and then nimbly left. Xiao Ku'er was left fiddling with the items on the table. He was clever; in a moment, he smiled and said, "So that's how it is. Sister is twenty-two." He looked up, but Qin Honglian was already gone. He glanced at his young master, chuckling to himself, and suddenly understood Qin Honglian's intention—she must have realized that the young master was at most sixteen or seventeen and was unwilling to answer. To avoid appearing much older than him, she had used a bit of girlish cunning to give a tactful answer in this way.
When Yan Xianmei saw his sly smile, he was a clever man and already knew what he was thinking, so he blushed.
Little Bitter Boy chuckled, "That fortune teller Lu was indeed right..."
Before he could finish speaking, a faint whistling sound could be heard in the wind outside. Yan Xianmei and Xiao Ku'er both strained their ears to listen. The sound was sharp and thin, and it took them a while to make out that the sound was calling out: "Earth, return to your home; water, return to your ravine; insects, cease your activity; grass and trees, return to their marshes..."
A look of surprise appeared on the young man Yan Xianmei's face. Little Ku'er, however, suddenly changed his playful expression, biting his lip tightly until it turned white. The sounds outside still echoed, like a call to arms: "Earth, return to your home; water, return to your ravine..."