Chapter Ninety-One: The Modest Gentleman

They had not yet reached Hidden Sword Manor, but from afar they could already see the gate brightly lit and packed with people.

Torches, lanterns, and all manner of fire-starting sticks had turned the front courtyard into a blaze of daylight. The giant sword carved from stone in the yard trembled in the glare, as though foretelling that Hidden Sword Manor too was about to endure a violent upheaval.

“The drunkard sings after tears, and when the dream is spent there is no trace; I forget myself in the sword I hold, and loneliness spreads without restraint.”

The famous line on the stele now seemed to have lost the vast, profound feeling it carried by day, replaced instead by a darkness and obscurity under the night sky.

Qi Shiqi stood at the gate, his expression somewhat uneasy, and behind him clustered several dozen disciples of Hidden Sword Manor, which only made the scene feel more unsettling.

When Zhang He and the others arrived, Qi Shiqi merely nodded from afar as a gesture of greeting, and that alone counted as the exchange of courtesies.

Seeing Qi Shiqi, who had always been gentle and refined in manner, now so grave, Zhang He and Zhong Shuman felt even more certain. Something really had happened to Hidden Sword Manor, and from the way things looked, it was probably no small matter.

Some forty or fifty disciples formed a ring around the sword stone, each with a stern face and a tightly furrowed brow.

On the left side of the gate stood two men and a woman. Their expressions were equally solemn, their gazes sharp. Judging by their attire, they must be players of higher standing within Hidden Sword Manor.

To Qi Shiqi’s right stood nine others from different sects. The most conspicuous of them was a player in black. One did not need to know him, but one could not fail to recognize the luxurious black Daoist robe he wore, for only disciples of Wudang were qualified to dress in such a way.

And the distinctive collar marked him as someone of no small rank in Wudang either: the Sword Dance Hall.

Any player who could enter Wudang’s Sword Dance Hall had at least achieved third rebirth. A third-rebirth Wudang disciple was nothing to laugh at; their foundations were extraordinarily solid, and at least one of swordplay, palm techniques, or internal force was bound to be exceptional.

Still, seeing a Wudang visitor here made Zhang He a little displeased. After all, on their last trip to the Peony Tower, Hua Meinv and President Ma had both been indirectly killed off by that so-called Mister Gu from Wudang.

Like Zhang He, Zhong Shuman had also been cast under the shadow of that Peony Tower incident, and she held no great affection for Wudang either.

At that moment Qi Shiqi cupped his hands and bowed. “It is my great honor to receive all of you distinguished friends. Tonight, I am again indebted to your protection of our manor’s caravan, and for that gratitude I find myself utterly unable to express.”

With that, he bent again and offered the crowd a deep bow.

Seeing him make such a grand gesture, the others hurriedly returned the salute. “Young master, you are far too polite. Tonight we merely happened to meet on the road, a trivial matter. If you keep being so courteous, we shall truly feel embarrassed.”

One of the nine, a pale scholar holding a folding fan, cupped his hands and said, “Young master, there is something I still do not understand. I ask that you enlighten me.”

Qi Shiqi returned the salute. “I would not dare. Please, Brother Northern, instruct me.”

That Brother Northern glanced around and said loudly, “Everyone knows that whether it is a self-founded sect or an established orthodox school, under normal circumstances neither the righteous paths nor the demonic cults would attack a transport convoy. We are all people of the martial world; it would not make sense to have no enemies at all. I am simply curious—has the young master recently offended some enemy too deeply? For these people to even attack the daily caravan of Hidden Sword Manor? It does not look like bandit robbery to me; it looks much more like a vendetta.”

With that one remark, Zhang He immediately understood the general situation.

A privately founded force like Hidden Sword Manor was different from an official sect, because official sects received rewards and support from the court—in plain terms, from the system itself—whereas a privately established manor had no such backing. If such a manor wished to keep functioning and continue growing, it had to be self-sufficient in manpower, wealth, and resources.

Hidden Sword Manor survived through Xie Family Inn. Xie Family Inn was prosperous and bustling, with people and goods constantly moving through it. Many of the grain merchants, shops, and suppliers depended on Hidden Sword Manor to guarantee their sales and customers, and in return these players would symbolically pay the manor a small management fee.

After all, the safety and difficulties of many players and NPCs also needed the protection of Hidden Sword Manor’s name and experts. In other words, everyone was making a living off the manor, and through this mutually beneficial relationship the manor would establish several of its own specialized teams: PvP specialists, elite groups, treasure-hunting teams, life-skill players, trade experts, construction crews, and so on, all working together. Only in this way could a healthy long-term cycle be formed.

No matter how treacherous the world of the martial arts might be, it still had its rules. One of them was this: unless there was an irreconcilable blood feud, you absolutely should not attack the transport convoy of a small sect, especially not a convoy carrying grain and rice, or unarmed life-skill players.

Mildly put, that was a complete lack of martial honor, because cutting off a man’s livelihood has, since ancient times, been one of the most despised acts of all. More severely, the whole world would rise up to condemn such behavior, black and white alike, because it destroyed the balance of the game. If every combat player took pleasure in slaughtering life-skill players, then who would ever dare to choose a life-skill class? If Dynasty had no life-skill players, then the game would be finished. In the end, nobody would have anything left to play.

So this was an unwritten rule accepted by almost ninety-nine percent of Dynasty’s players.

From Brother Northern’s words, it seemed that Hidden Sword Manor had most likely suffered precisely such a disaster.

Sure enough, a burly man in animal skins with a hard bow slung across his back stepped forward and said, “When we passed Seven Star Mound, more than thirty of the manor’s life-skill players were already dead on the ground, yet none of the carriages or mule carts had been touched. There were many travelers passing by as well, but not one of them was harmed. It was clear that the attackers were coming specifically for your manor, young master.”

Brother Northern again cupped his hands. “Since we are all righteous men and people of the martial world, we cannot bear to stand by and watch our fellow orthodox cultivators in distress. It so happens that the nine of us passed this way tonight. If the manor lord does not mind, we are willing to remain and lend a hand.”

A female player draped in a bright red cloak, with a water-piercing dagger hanging at her waist, also stepped forward and said, “Exactly. Brother Qi, there is no need to say more. If they don’t show you respect, then they don’t show any of us respect. I refuse to believe some trashy little rookies would dare come cause trouble in the three manors of Yuezhou. They’re just asking for a beating. If they dare come again, I guarantee I’ll hack them to pieces.”

Her appearance was rather sweet and delicate, with a trace of the grace of a refined lady, but the way she spoke was more like a street thug.

Zhang He could not help frowning. “What kind of people are these?”

Zhong Shuman’s expression was equally disdainful. “The one waving the fan and constantly talking about being a man of the martial world is called Northern Motor; he’s a third-rank disciple of the Murong clan. The one in tiger-skin is called Strong Brother Z; he’s the hall master of the Thirty-Six Waterways Alliance of the Yangtze. As for this beauty pretending to be the Thirteenth Sister of Hong Hing, her name is Kiki. Those three have some reputation, but just from their names you can tell they are all offbeat.”

Zhang He laughed. “I only just realized you are quite skilled at insulting people too.”

Zhong Shuman deliberately put on a stern face. “Your mind is too dark. You never see the good in people, only their flaws.”

At that moment Qi Shiqi once again clasped his hands in salute, though anyone who paid a little attention would notice that this bow was not nearly as formal as the one before.

“I am deeply moved by your righteous willingness to help my manor’s disciples. Yet I am also truly ashamed.” After saluting to all sides, Qi Shiqi slowly walked to the center of the courtyard and fixed his gaze on the sword stone. “My manor’s origin lies in Divine Sword Manor at Greenwater Lake on Emerald Cloud Peak. Together with Divine Sword Manor, Hidden Sword Manor and Famed Sword Manor are known as the Three Manors of Yuezhou. I do not dare belittle myself, yet ever since my manor’s first lord, Ghost Shadow Vast Sky, fought the martial arts celebrity When Will You Return Again on the shore of the East Sea, no one has dared cause trouble within the territory of the three manors.”

Although it was already an old story, the moment the names Ghost Shadow Vast Sky and When Will You Return Again were mentioned, everyone present was visibly shaken, which showed just how sensational that battle had once been. It was as though even the flames atop the surrounding torches burned more fiercely in response.

Qi Shiqi continued, “And after the manor lord Ghost Shadow suffered defeat in the battle at Shaoshi Mountain, the prestige of Divine Sword Manor collapsed utterly. If Divine Sword Manor is like this, there is no need to speak further of my own manor or Famed Sword Manor.”

Having said this, he let out a long sigh and lifted his head to stare into the pitch-black night. His expression was indescribably lonely and hollow, and the people around him seemed to sigh in melancholy along with him.

In Dynasty, how many experts were like shooting stars streaking across the night sky? They left behind brilliant, dazzling light, but what truly endured, unchanged, was darkness.

How many extraordinary talents and dazzling personalities had turned to butterflies and flown away? How much elegance and charm had always been washed off by wind and rain?

Qi Shiqi paused, then said solemnly, “I say that I am ashamed because, by the time my manor lord’s seat came to my generation, we were no longer the same Three Manors of Yuezhou as before. I shall not hide the truth from you: just this afternoon, eight of my manor’s ordinary disciples returned from outside, only to be murdered on the official road a hundred li away. Each of them had a vermilion writing brush left stuck in the chest...”

Anyone who understood such a thing needed no more explanation; anyone who did not would still not understand no matter how many times it was explained.

So when the words were spoken, every one of the nine visitors changed color.

Just as with the name Life and Death Judgment: a raw recruit might hear it and be utterly bewildered, but any player with even a little experience in Dynasty would know it was not someone to provoke.

“The Judge of Life and Death, the God of Retribution—life and death judged, vengeance answered.” The slogan sounded simple enough when spoken, but for many martial world players to be able to say it out loud was no simple matter at all.

Brother Northern cupped his hands and said, “It is said that Life and Death Judgment is neither wholly righteous nor wholly evil. If you do not provoke them, they will not trouble you. But if you provoke them, they will certainly come seeking revenge.”

This time he no longer mentioned “we are all righteous men and people of the martial world,” and Strong Brother Z also seemed a bit hesitant. “Y-yes, that’s right. But our Yangtze Thirty-Six Waterways Alliance doesn’t seem... doesn’t seem to have ever caused them any trouble.”

As for Kiki, who had just been shouting about cutting down enemies left and right, her voice was now as tiny as a mosquito’s. The forced smile on her face was uglier than tears. “Actually... hehe, tonight we were forming a team to go run the instance at the foot of Longrui Mountain, hehe... the time is midnight, there are still a few hours left, and we just happened to pass Seven Star Mound... just passing by, so, hehe...”

“A pack of cowards. That is all they are.” Zhong Shuman gritted her teeth and cursed under her breath. Once again she was learning the true face of most self-styled righteous men.

Though her eyes were blazing, Zhang He was smiling. His smile looked lonely, yet the faint curve of it also showed just how thoroughly he understood this world.

Qi Shiqi remained as courteous as ever, still bowing with folded hands.

Nothing in his expression revealed any contempt or disdain. He always gave people the impression of a modest gentleman, as gentle as fine jade. “Tonight I am already deeply grateful for your rescue of my manor’s disciples. How could I possibly trouble all of you over such a trifling matter within the manor? Why not enter first and rest for a while? I may then offer you fine wine and do what little I can as host.”

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