It was the seventh day since Jia Pingxiu, the fourth chief of Chenjian Dock, had been torn to pieces.
Mei Courtyard.
By the end of July, the leaves of the wutong trees along the streets had curled from the scorching sun. Waves of cicada cries rose one after another, their relentless chirping grating on everyone's nerves.
After instructing the outer courtyard disciples, Shen Xiuhan stepped out of the gates and headed home toward Apricot Blossom Lane.
Just as he turned the corner of Changping Street, a figure approached him.
It was a lean, robust young man dressed in a coarse short-sleeved tunic and trousers. Though slender, his eyes held a sharp glint, instantly marking him as a martial artist.
The young man walked up to Shen Xiuhan, bowed, and cupped his fists.
“Master Shen, my young master requests the honor of your presence at Mingyu Xuan for a private chat.”
Shen Xiuhan paused slightly, casting a calm, unreadable glance at him.
“Your young master? Who is he?”
The young man bowed again and said respectfully, “Young Master Xuanyang of the Wang family.”
Shen Xiuhan's eyes narrowed slightly.
Wang Xuanyang?
Aside from exchanging a few brief words in the 《Dragon Blood Essence-Infusing Pool》, he had no connection with the man whatsoever.
Back then, the six of them had shared the same pool, each focusing on their own cultivation. Once they emerged, they had gone their separate ways without even exchanging formal farewells.
‘What does he want with me?’
Though puzzled, Shen Xiuhan did not decline. He gave a slight nod and followed the lean young man into the largest theater in the Inner City.
Mingyu Xuan.
The three-story wooden building featured upturned eaves and beautifully carved, painted beams. Inside, it was spacious and brightly lit. The open seating on the first floor was sparse, the private booths on the second floor had their curtains drawn low, and the third floor consisted of exclusive suites for VIPs, accessible only by invitation.
As Shen Xiuhan went upstairs, he saw a carved window on the second floor wide open, facing the stage below.
The stage was not large, but it was exquisitely decorated.
Red felt covered the floor, flanked by silk curtains painted with flowers, birds, and landscapes. Behind the stage stood a massive screen depicting Magu offering longevity peaches.
At this moment, about a dozen well-dressed figures sat scattered below the stage, tea cups and fruit platters resting at their elbows. They were clearly the scions of wealthy Inner City families.
Some leaned back, some sat upright, some closed their eyes and swayed their heads, others conversed in low tones, and some cracked melon seeds, each displaying a different air of leisure.
On stage, two actors in heavy makeup sang with pinched voices, their flowing water sleeves fluttering as they put on a highly emotional performance:
“A wise bird chooses its tree, a worthy minister chooses his lord. Your master is muddled and blind; your brilliant pearl has long been cast into darkness.”
“I thirst for talent and wish to share glory with you. Come to my side, and a splendid future awaits your every step. Why cling to a withered tree in the fading autumn?”
The other actor, wearing a scholar's headscarf and dressed as a military lead, took hesitant steps in place, his face filled with conflict.
After a moment, as if having made up his mind, he stamped his official boot heavily and swung his long sleeves:
“To eat his bread is to serve his cause—though the saying is noble, what can one do when the great mansion is collapsing and a single pillar cannot hold it up!”
“Since you treat me with such sincerity, why should I cling to a rotting rope on the brink of disaster?”
“Forget it! Forget it!”
“Abandoning him for you today is not the work of a traitor, but because I have met a true lord! My only wish is to forge a grand empire with you and unleash my grand ambitions!”
“Good!”
“Well sung!”
A round of applause erupted below the stage, with several playboys letting out sharp whistles.
A familiar, hearty voice also echoed from inside one of the private booths:
“Reward them!”
Shen Xiuhan followed the sound and saw a man standing by the window. Dressed in a blue brocade robe with a white jade belt cinched at his waist, he possessed an elegant and noble bearing. He grabbed a silver ingot and tossed it out the window.
This person was none other than Wang Xuanyang.
Following the young man into the room, the fragrance of tea drifted over. Shen Xiuhan noticed an ordinary-looking middle-aged woman standing in the corner of the booth.
She wore a simple gray cloth dress, her hair tied in a low bun. She stood there silently, her blood qi completely concealed, her breath long and faint. She didn't even spare Shen Xiuhan a glance when he entered, standing as still as a clay statue.
‘Great Perfection of the Anjin Rank... The Wang family's foundation is incredibly deep!’
Shen Xiuhan felt a chill in his heart.
The Wang family held a noble status. Although their Zhendong General had not returned in a long time, he likely sent back plenty of cultivation resources and spiritual medicines.
On the surface, their escort agencies and martial arts halls housed five or six Anjin experts, to say nothing of those hidden in the shadows.
At the very least, Shen Xiuhan had never heard of this middle-aged woman in Changyun County, making her an obvious trump card hidden beneath the surface by the Wang family!
Wang Xuanyang turned around.
With sword-like eyebrows extending toward his temples, distinct knuckles, and faint calluses on his fists, he bore the clear marks of years spent honing his martial arts. Wearing a jovial expression, he laughed heartily and stepped forward to greet him, cupping his hands in apology:
“Brother Shen, please sit! I apologize for the abrupt invitation today without sending a formal letter beforehand. I hope you won't take offense.”
Shen Xiuhan sat down as invited and smiled calmly. “Young Master Xuanyang is too polite.”
Wang Xuanyang picked up the teapot, poured him a cup himself, and pointed out the window toward the stage, smiling.
“Brother Shen, do you usually enjoy plays? What did you think of the vocals and movements in that play just now, ‘Abandoning Darkness for Light’?”
‘And here it comes...’
Shen Xiuhan sighed inwardly.
He was no fool. How could he fail to understand such an obvious metaphor?
Every word and implication suggested that the Ji family Shen Xiuhan served was like the setting sun, and staying with them was akin to casting a brilliant pearl into darkness or clinging to a withered tree in the fading autumn.
Meanwhile, he, Wang Xuanyang, was the worthy lord to be served.
The actor's lines about ‘abandoning blind loyalty to forge a grand empire’ were practically being recited right to his face.
‘This guy is absurd. We have no history, yet he expects me to serve him the very first time we meet. Where does he get the nerve?’
Pretending not to understand the underlying message, Shen Xiuhan shook his head.
“I am but a crude man, Young Master. I do not understand such theatrical warbling. Usually, when I am not training at the martial arts hall, I am refining my blood qi at home. I hope I haven't made a fool of myself.”
The smile on Wang Xuanyang's face stiffened slightly, a fleeting look of displeasure crossing his eyes. He remained silent for a moment before speaking slowly:
“Brother Shen, we share a passing acquaintance. I admire your talent and think highly of your character, so I won't beat around the bush. I invited you here today on behalf of the Wang family to offer you a placement.”
He stood up, placing both hands on the table, and looked directly at Shen Xiuhan. His tone was slow but deliberate:
“The guest retainers of my Wang family are divided into three tiers.”
“Among them, a First-Tier Guest Retainer can only be held by top-tier experts at the mid-to-late stage of the Anjin Rank. They enjoy the authority to mobilize the family's guards.”
“Even in our vast Wang family, there are currently only two such individuals.”
“If Brother Shen is willing to agree, the Wang family will treat you with the courtesy befitting a First-Tier Guest Retainer.”
“Resources, Precious Herbs, gold, and silver—you need only speak the word.”
“Aside from the core cultivation techniques passed down solely to the direct line of the Wang family, all other martial skills and stances will be open for you to read and study.”
Such a generous offer was enough to make ninety-nine percent of the rogue martial artists in Changyun County flock to them, willingly signing away their freedom.
Wang Xuanyang believed that a martial artist of common birth like Shen Xiuhan had absolutely no room to refuse.
He sat back down, the corner of his mouth curling into a smile once more.
“Of course, my family also has one small condition: Brother Shen, you must resign from your temporary placement with the Ji family. From now on, draw a clear line between yourself and the Ji family, and work exclusively for our Wang family.”
He paused, his smile widening.
“That should be very simple, right?”
Shen Xiuhan merely listened in silence, offering no response. He lowered his eyelids, his fingertips lightly tapping his knee, his expression giving away nothing.
Wang Xuanyang, seeing this, assumed he was weighing the pros and cons. His smile grew even wider, though his voice dropped slightly:
“Brother Shen is a clever man. You must know the saying that a wise bird chooses its tree.”
“Though there are five prominent families in Changyun County, you and I both know very well that only those with a Huajin Rank expert backing them deserve to be called a ‘great clan’!”
Wang Xuanyang lifted his teacup, brushing away the floating leaves with the lid, a strange glint in his eyes.
“Certain families, even if their firms span the entire prefecture capital, their businesses grow massive, and they even pour immense wealth into securing a backer in the city... without the strength to anchor their foundation, it is all just a mirage, mere fleeting clouds!”
“Once the storm hits, let alone their businesses, they might not even be able to protect the occasional young genius that crops up in their family...”
Wang Xuanyang turned his head, his gaze landing on Shen Xiuhan's face with a meaningful smile.
“To say nothing of a mere external retainer holding a temporary placement...”
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