Meeting Up with Companions

Martial Alliance.

Two men stood in the front hall—the very two who had fled from the inn.

Both kept their heads bowed low, not daring to utter a word.

High above the steps sat the Alliance Master's throne, cast from black iron, representing the pinnacle of power in the jianghu. The figure seated upon it remained silent, yet an invisible, suffocating pressure subtly cloaked the entire hall.

He sat on his high seat with half-lidded eyes, appearing as though he were neither fully awake nor asleep.

After a long silence, a voice finally echoed through the hall. “Why hasn't Zhang Wuji returned?”

The two men below the steps stiffened, cold sweat instantly bursting from their foreheads. They did not dare raise their heads to answer...

Dead silence pervaded the hall, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of fingers echoing through the air. Each stroke struck against their hearts like a death knell, leaving them breathless.

“So, you two are deserters.” The flat statement echoed out, yet it exploded like thunder in their ears.

“Alliance Master!” With a loud thud, both fell to their knees.

Their bodies trembled like chaff in the wind. In this moment, they even felt that facing Dead Man's Blade would have been preferable—at least that would have been a quick death...

The rhythmic tapping ceased, as if the chime of death had reached its end. Silence spread noiselessly through the hall, and the two kneeling men felt their minds pushed to the brink of collapse.

A flash of murderous intent flickered across the half-lidded eyes of the man on the steps, only to vanish a moment later.

“Hmph!” The man on the throne let out a cold snort. “Get out there and find him! I want Zhang Wuji back alive, or I want his corpse!”

“Yes, sir!”

As if granted a grand reprieve, the two hurriedly scrambled off the floor and retreated.

He was now the only one remaining in the front hall.

The rhythmic finger-tapping resumed, only this time at an unhurried pace.

“Dead Man's Blade? Interesting...”

A trace of a smile flickered across his face, though it did not reach his eyes.

...

“I'm going to die.”

This was Ning Qingzhu's most sincere, direct, heartfelt, and truthful thought.

Having been yanked up in the middle of the night to travel, she had been jolted on horseback for an entire night, and even now, with the sun fully hanging in the sky, she still hadn't recovered.

“Little Qing, hang in there a bit longer. We're almost there.”

“That's the sixth time you've said that.”

“Is it? Hahaha, I'm getting old, my memory fails me all the time.”

...She turned her head away, truly unwilling to spare Old Chen another glance. Her heart was utterly exhausted.

Just then, Qiu Zhiya spoke up as well. “It's right up ahead.”

Compared to Old Chen, Qiu Zhiya was clearly far more credible.

Ning Qingzhu instantly perked up and looked ahead. Sure enough, a small town stood not far in the distance, instantly sweeping away her earlier gloom.

Entering the town, the three headed straight for a teahouse with a clear goal. The waiter came over to their side, took a look at their order, and was instantly taken aback.

Six baskets of steamed shrimp buns, a pot of Longjing tea, and three bowls of Yangchun noodles.

Looking at the elderly man and two women before him, he swallowed hard and asked, “Respected customers, are you sure you want this much?”

Qiu Zhiya waved her hand. “Others will be joining us shortly. Just prepare it.”

Having received a firm confirmation, the waiter finally departed.

Once he was completely gone, Ning Qingzhu could no longer suppress her curiosity and asked, “Sister Qiu, you said others are coming... are they your accomplices?”

Qiu Zhiya nodded. She had released a carrier pigeon to send them a message while traveling last night, and by now, the timing was about right.

Ning Qingzhu wanted to ask more, but the teahouse waiter was fast, already coming up with the three bowls of Yangchun noodles.

The mouthwatering aroma instantly filled the air, whetting the appetites of all three.

Having traveled all night, the three of them were already ravenous, and smelling the noodle broth only stoked their hunger even more.

The moment the waiter took the tray and went downstairs, all three picked up their chopsticks.

Manners, image, and decorum—all of it could go to hell. The three ate with complete abandon, blissfully oblivious to everything around them. After extreme hunger and exhaustion, taste buds exposed to good food naturally enhanced the flavor several times over.

In this moment, Ning Qingzhu gained a fresh perspective on the jianghu: as it turned out, the heroic bold swagger of those wanderers was simply born of starvation.

While the three were eating with relish, two men quietly approached and sat down beside them.

One of them intended to speak, but seeing how thoroughly engrossed they were in their food, he swallowed his words back down.

Only after drinking the last drop of noodle broth did Qiu Zhiya raise her head, finally noticing the two of them.

“When did you two get here?”

“Uh...”

Just then, the waiter returned with six baskets of steamed shrimp buns, placing them on the table.

“Boss, you actually knew we hadn't eaten breakfast? You're too thoughtful!”

Their eyes lit up, hearts swelling with gratitude.

“Who said these were for you?”

“Can't you see there are three of us? That's exactly two baskets each.”

“Oh, and remember to pay the bill later.”

The two men: “...”

They watched in silence as the three each grabbed another basket of shrimp buns and continued eating. Time quietly trickled by.

Finally, Qiu Zhiya put down her chopsticks with satisfaction, elegantly wiped her mouth, and began introducing the two who had been waiting for so long.

She pointed to the somewhat chubby man. “This is Mo Lin. He's responsible for gathering various bounty missions and target information.”

Then she pointed to the quieter man beside him. “This is Xu Qing, a man of few words, but very reliable. He handles backup after missions are completed and cleans up the mess if necessary.”

Ning Qingzhu excitedly introduced herself. “I'm Ning Qingzhu, traveling the jianghu with Sister Qiu!”

“And this elderly gentleman is Uncle Chen, my young master's steward.”

Old Chen gave them a subtle nod by way of greeting.

The two men looked back and forth between them before fixing their gazes on Qiu Zhiya. Their expressions carried a clear message:

Qiu Zhiya understood their look all too well, but she really didn't know how to explain, so she could only change the subject.

“I've successfully retrieved the saber. Are there any suitable bounty missions lately? Let's take one.”

At this, Mo Lin's small eyes widened slightly as he said excitedly, “Yes! Yes! Eighty taels of silver to kill the son of the Zhao family's enemy, and a hundred taels of silver for capturing a flower-stealing thief.”

Qiu Zhiya furrowed her brows in thought for a moment before shaking her head in refusal. “These rewards are too small and not worth the hassle. Are there really no high-paying bounties lately?”

Hearing this, Mo Lin smiled bitterly and said helplessly, “Of course there are high-paying ones, but the locations are all in Fengcheng.”

Qiu Zhiya raised a brow slightly, asking with curiosity, “What's wrong with Fengcheng? Why can't we take them?”

For a moment, Mo Lin fell silent. Xu Qing also frowned deeply with a grave expression. Neither spoke, only stealthily observing their surroundings.

This behavior left Qiu Zhiya even more bewildered.

Mo Lin leaned forward, drawing closer to the others at the table, and spoke in a barely audible whisper: “His Majesty... is about to pass away...”

!?

Qiu Zhiya jerked to her feet, her bench scraping against the floor with a harsh screech that drew many eyes toward them.

The shock on her face was impossible to conceal, her gaze fixed on Mo Lin in disbelief.

“Keep your voice down!” Mo Lin hastily grabbed her sleeve and pulled her back into her seat, whispering, “I found out while gathering intelligence. You know nobody would dare fake news like this!”

Old Chen's body tensed up as well. News of this magnitude was absurdly monumental; he could hardly believe it either.

Only Ning Qingzhu remained completely unphased. When the Emperor was fine, she hadn't been able to eat her fill as a child anyway; how much worse could things get now?

Mo Lin continued, “Right now, undercurrents are surging in Fengcheng, and every faction is waiting to see how things unfold. Heading there now means risking getting swallowed up in the eye of the storm.”

“In short, anyone going to Fengcheng right now is looking for a death wish!”

...

“How much further to Fengcheng?”

A familiar old farmer urged his ox cart along a bumpy trail. Two people sat atop the stack of hay being pulled by the cart.

The speaker was none other than Jiang Moran. At this moment, he lay flat on the hay stack, hands cradled behind his head and legs crossed, thoroughly relaxed.

However, riding for several days was getting a bit boring.

“Senior, please bear with it a little longer. It should be about half a day's journey to Fengcheng.” Fengqingzi was curled up in a tiny space, yielding most of the spot to Jiang Moran.

After several days of recuperation, his injuries had improved significantly—at least enough to put up a fight should danger arise.

...