Chapter 63: Blades and Swords Within the Zither
The art of the zither has always been a treasured heritage in China. Bo Ya broke his strings and never played again, leaving us with the legendary melody "High Mountains and Flowing Water." During the Warring States, Master Kuang played before the court, causing mystical cranes to dance—a marvel indeed. Cai Yong of the Han dynasty listened to the zither and even removed his shoes, revealing a realm beyond the ordinary. The Jin dynasty’s "Guangling Melody" remains an unparalleled masterpiece. Through every era, tales of the zither and its music abound, and the world of "Dynasty" is no exception. The profound principles of zither music are closely linked to martial arts, literature, chess, and painting.
The first piece played by the Zither Fairy was bright and cheerful, indescribably pleasant to the ear. As she played, multicolored characters shimmered over the hall’s reflecting pool, clearly the system’s way of adding lyrics and poetry. Even those utterly ignorant of music found themselves enchanted by the scene, able to appreciate both elegance and simplicity, feeling joy alongside the melody:
“Green grass by the river’s edge, sunlight shining bright, flowers smiling; fragrance wafts, water winds, breezes gently sway; the journey is long, mountains high and waters deep, the path stretches, clouds float, reaching for the sky, ambition grand, never reckless in youth; behold a hundred blossoms vying for beauty, my sword unsheathing, laughing in the face of the world, soaring to the clouds…”
At this moment, everyone but Zhang He and the White Horse Gentleman was absorbed in the music, listening intently, drawn irresistibly by the melody. The White Horse Gentleman was unable to listen, his temper simmering from the moment they left the Hundred Markets until now. Despite Zhang He’s rustic appearance, it was always the White Horse Gentleman who ended up at a disadvantage.
Zhang He, meanwhile, simply wasn’t interested in feigned elegance. The so-called heavenly sounds were, to him, like playing music to a cow; he’d much prefer the spirited mountain songs of Yunnan.
The Zither Fairy’s second piece was markedly less cheerful. The tempo slowed to a crawl, and each string was struck with force. The atmosphere in the hall grew heavy, as though a great stone pressed upon every chest, making it difficult to breathe.
The stuttering, oppressive melody seemed to stir everyone’s darkest emotions. The White Horse Gentleman felt it keenly. Glancing up to the fifth floor, he saw Zhang He’s ambiguous smile, which only fueled his anger. Suddenly, he slapped the incense table, and his chopsticks sprang up. With a swift palm strike, he sent them whistling toward the fifth floor.
His move was abrupt and unexpected, blending into the music—no one heard anything amiss. Everyone’s attention was focused on the first floor; no one anticipated his covert action.
With a soft "pop," Zhang He reached out and caught the chopsticks.
His judgment was spot on—the opponent used chopsticks, propelled by the palm, which meant the attack was fairly ordinary. Had the chopsticks flown without the push, that would have indicated high-level internal energy, but Zhang He was confident enough to catch them barehanded.
The entire exchange was brief, but making such a precise judgment wasn’t easy. Seeing Zhang He catch the chopsticks, Young Master Qi smiled faintly, his expression one of admiration.
Zhang He also smiled, but quietly gathered his internal energy.
His internal power had recently improved greatly, and he had learned a new technique. The "Qi Return to Break Gold," gifted by Big Niu, was a method for channeling internal energy into hidden weapons.
This technique had two effects: first, it allowed the user to infuse hidden weapons with internal force while manipulating other attributes; second, the hidden weapon’s flight would change depending on the amount of energy, but it wasn’t strictly a hidden weapon skill.
Thus, when using "Qi Return to Break Gold," one had to also employ the Coin Dart technique. Zhang He now treated the chopsticks as coin darts, and only struck after the Zither Fairy’s strings rang out sharply with a sudden "zheng!"
His counterattack was equally swift and surprising.
The White Horse Gentleman had never expected his opponent to retaliate, let alone use internal energy to launch a hidden weapon.
The reason was simple: this was not a place for fighting. In theory, except for the special area near the Resurrection Stone, any location in "Dynasty" allowed for PK, provided one had the strength. However, two factors must be considered: beware of getting a red name and the constables, and avoid damaging public property, or risk losing everything.
So when Zhang He returned the chopstick attack, the White Horse Gentleman was caught completely off guard, unable to react in time. Zhang He, cunning as ever, struck the chopstick against his opponent’s wrist, not the wine cup or plate, and a "-91" damage value appeared over the White Horse Gentleman’s head.
Even Young Master Qi was surprised; he knew the White Horse Gentleman’s defenses were strong and that chopsticks had little offensive power. Yet Zhang He, with a casual flick, dealt such high damage—clearly, his attack was well over a hundred points.
Qi was astonished, but the White Horse Gentleman was even more so. Was Zhang He deliberately targeting him?
At this moment, the Zither Fairy’s music shifted, abandoning the previous oppressive mood. The melody soared, her fingers racing across the strings, and the music seemed to herald an impending storm.
Driven by the music, the White Horse Gentleman’s anger surged; unable to contain himself, he suddenly vaulted from the third floor, landing in the center of the hall with a flourish. He cupped his hands and declared, "Allow me to perform a sword dance for Lady Zither and our esteemed guests!"
The Zither Fairy was fully immersed in her music and paid him no heed.
Ignoring the astonished gazes around him and waiting neither for a reply nor for the Zither Fairy to pause, the White Horse Gentleman leapt toward one of the columns behind the seats, rebounded off it, then off another, and in a series of agile jumps, soared up toward the fifth floor.
A flash of white light—the sword was out.
His attack was, of course, aimed at Zhang He.
The sword’s movement was slanted, not pressing forward, charged with energy and intent, making it difficult to predict—a true master’s technique.
Zhang He would not fall for such tricks, and his response was utterly unexpected.
Seeing the White Horse Gentleman’s rapid approach, Zhang He flung a plate of stir-fried mushrooms and bamboo shoots at him, calculating the White Horse Gentleman would be forced to defend with his sword.
As a distinguished guest of Peony Pavilion, if he didn’t block, even if his sword struck Zhang He, he’d be covered in greasy food—an intolerable loss of style and composure.
In Peony Pavilion, gentlemen like him followed strict rules: heads may be broken but hair must stay neat, blood may flow but shoes must be polished, always run, never walk, meals left untouched but fine cigarettes always in hand—face and image must never be tarnished.
So as Zhang He flung the plate, the White Horse Gentleman’s sword flashed, slicing the dish into pieces, scattering bits of food and oil through the air.
He continued his attack, unchanging in style, but when he struck again, Zhang He was no longer there.
Looking up, he saw a strange short blade, cold as ice, stabbing toward his chest.
This strike showed no regard for his opponent’s well-being; Zhang He seemed willing to take a sword just to land a knife in the White Horse Gentleman’s chest.
The White Horse Gentleman’s sword style was a blend of reality and illusion, all dependent on the opponent’s response. Zhang He, however, attacked in earnest, with a real blade against a feint.
It wasn’t just about clever moves, but a fundamental difference in PK philosophy. Young Master Qi nodded approvingly, clearly satisfied with his new friend.
The White Horse Gentleman was forced to defend, but Zhang He’s knife suddenly spun, slashing toward his neck—an urgent and ruthless move, showing no mercy.
Now he was startled; his upward momentum had stopped, and he could only grab the central hall’s drapery as he fell.
Zhang He grabbed another drape, and both descended simultaneously.
The Zither Fairy’s music now resembled torrential rain striking glass, or the charge of armed soldiers—urgent, relentless, yet exhilarating and utterly unrestrained. In the center of the hall, Zhang He and the White Horse Gentleman clashed, blades and swords flashing, their movements echoing the rhythm of the music.
It was a scene so extraordinary that it must be seen to be believed, the heavenly music and dazzling combat captivating everyone present.
Among the distinguished guests were many martial arts experts, who could see that the White Horse Gentleman, with his flowing attire and elegant moves, displayed the hallmarks of a master—pleasing to the eye.
Zhang He’s knife work and movements, by contrast, were bizarre, unattractive, but the keen observer would notice every strike was perilous; his casual manner concealed deadly intent. If the White Horse Gentleman made a single misstep, the short blade would become a killing blow.
Thus, after a dozen exchanges in the hall’s center, Zhang He maintained the upper hand, dominating the fight. The White Horse Gentleman appeared graceful, but in truth, Zhang He kept him firmly suppressed.
Yet Zhang He remained mindful that this was a high-end nightclub, a public space, and refrained from using force. The White Horse Gentleman grew more anxious, as the Zither Fairy’s music accelerated, conjuring visions of charging armies and crashing waves, its magical energy guiding the rhythm of their duel.
The White Horse Gentleman felt an overwhelming frustration in his chest, unable to vent it except through increasingly fierce swordplay.
Now, both fighters leapt into the air, running laterally along the first floor’s railing, clearly using light-footed martial arts.
For Zhang He, the "Song Stepping Technique" was effortless in such an environment, running across the second floor as if on level ground. The White Horse Gentleman struggled to keep pace; Zhang He’s Flowing Cloud Blade forced him to defend, unable to attack—his foundation simply wasn’t as solid as Zhang He’s.
Soon, the two circled the railings and columns, reaching the fourth floor. Suddenly, Young Master Qi cried out, "Brother Wu, beware!"
From somewhere on the third floor, a pot of Dragon Phoenix Soup was hurled straight at Zhang He’s chest. No one expected someone to secretly aid the White Horse Gentleman.
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