Chapter 5

Shopkeeper Wang had been killed in a single move before he could even pick up his abacus. And that young man, with the three blade coins forever hidden in his sleeves, had not even had time to fire them before he was blasted to death. Chang'an pictured the figure of the rider who had swept past, yet could not recall his face. He could not imagine how that person had dealt with two first-rate martial artists in such a short time.

He strode away. He could not bear to keep watching.

The night was already deep.

Even a bustling city like Danyang City had extinguished its lights. Yet in the darkness, desires still collided, flesh was traded for coin.

The long street was bleak, lonely, and desolate.

A solitary moon hung overhead, pouring down silver radiance.

At the roadside, an old woman's braised beef stall had not yet closed. Three burly men sat around several battered old tables. Bare-chested, rough cloth strips wrapped around their hands and blades strapped to their backs, they wolfed down platters of braised beef, guzzled throat-searing liquor, and talked loudly.

Chang'an suddenly wanted a drink.

It had probably been a year since he had drunk hard liquor by the roadside late at night.

He did not kill at night, nor did he need strong drink at night to bolster his courage. He often drank at flower houses at night, with beauties in his arms, brothers at his side, or young noblemen who admired him warmly inviting him to a feast. That was all good wine.

But at this moment, he suddenly wanted to drink—hard liquor.

He was not seeking drunkenness. He wanted to vent his frustration.

Shopkeeper Wang had died too quickly and too strangely. Chang'an felt riddled with doubts, yet could not make head or tail of them.

He recognized none of these rough, bold men. Their voices were loud, and their accents lacked the gentle, mellow cadence of Qingshan Prefecture. They were strangers through and through.

Chang'an sat down at an empty table. The wind was somewhat cold, so he drew his clothes tighter. The old woman had already come before him and asked warmly, "Drinking or eating meat?" The old woman always asked that, which struck people as odd. Anyone drinking at this hour would always have some braised beef. Anyone ordering braised beef would always drink a little. Yet the old woman still asked this unnecessary question and had never found anything wrong with it.

Chang'an said, "Drinking without meat is no pleasure; eating meat without drink is no fun. Bring two jin of beef and two jin of liquor!"

The old woman shuffled away to slice the meat and fetch the wine.

One of the three burly men at the next table, a yellow-haired man, invited him. "Little brother, come drink with us. Drinking alone is no fun! We happen to have some matters to ask you about." The man missing one little finger called to the old woman, telling her to bring the wine and meat directly to their table.

Chang'an smiled. "The three of you are not locals, are you?" He rose and joined the three men at their table.

The nine-fingered man laughed heartily. "We come from the borderlands of the great desert. We've only just arrived and are passing through to handle some business."

Chang'an drank deeply, squinting as he glanced at the three men's blades. Their scabbards were tightly wrapped in coarse burlap, which was covered in bloodstains dried into patchy clots.

The yellow-haired man said in a low voice, "Young man, have you heard of the Bright Moon Blade?"

Chang'an nodded. "I have heard its name, but never seen it. Blade light and bright moon, indistinguishable from one another—the most mournfully beautiful blade under heaven. Legend says that everyone who sees its blade light dies."

The one-eyed brute, who had been the quietest, gulped down a bowl of wine and snorted. "That is what people in Longyuan Province say too."

The yellow-haired man and the nine-fingered man both chuckled darkly, bowl after bowl of liquor going down their throats as though it were plain water.

Suddenly, a filthy, skinny stray cat scurried across the street. The nine-fingered man sighed. "Poor little cat!" He picked up a slice of beef, flicked his bamboo chopsticks, and the meat shot out with a hiss. The black cat racing past abruptly froze, the slice of beef clamped in its mouth, yet it did not move for a long while to swallow it.

Chang'an's pupils contracted.

The stray cat truly was pitiful, because it was already dead.

The nine-fingered man suddenly said, "Little brother, you should not be drinking here. Nighttime is dangerous!"

Chang'an replied calmly, "Nighttime is always dangerous. Just now, I saw someone get killed, and the corpse was burned."

The yellow-haired man gave an oh. "Aren't you afraid?"

Chang'an found that strange. "Afraid of what?"

The one-eyed man said, "Afraid of us!"

Chang'an chuckled. "What is there to fear about you?"

The nine-fingered man smiled strangely. "Everyone who sees the Asura Blade take a life dies! Look at that stray cat. It greedily took a piece of meat, didn't it die?"

Chang'an said, "It was certainly doomed! Oh, so you are the Asura Blades, and you let me see you take a life! But that stray cat did not covet your meat. Disaster fell from the sky." Chang'an suddenly understood.

The one-eyed man said, "So you are doomed. Great disaster is at hand!"

Chang'an abruptly shut his mouth and lowered his head to drink.

The three burly men were brimming with killing intent. The one-eyed man was just about to draw his blade.

Bang!

The old woman cried out. A large unopened jar of wine on the counter had been accidentally knocked over, spilling wine all over the ground. The old woman had sold wine and meat at night for years and had never overturned a wine jar, yet an accident had happened tonight. She immediately panicked and cried, "My wine, my wine... The old man will scold me to death, scold me to death..." She spun in place, frantic with anxiety. Suddenly, she grabbed the knife used to cut beef from the counter and hacked it toward her own neck, crying, "I might as well die, might as well die..."

The yellow-haired man watched coldly. "This old woman is mad. The old man at home must be a viciously harsh miser! Pitiful, pitiful..."

The nine-fingered man shouted, "Old woman, we haven't paid yet. If you die now, your old man probably would not spare you even as a ghost."

At his words, the old woman abruptly stopped. Her clouded eyes looked over as she rasped, "Pay up quickly, give me the money... Ah, I am still doomed!"

The one-eyed man pinched a fragment of silver between his fingers and walked up to the old woman. "Old woman, take the money and keep it safe. Once you take it, I'll send you on your way!"

The old woman asked strangely, "I still have to set up my stall tomorrow night. Where am I going?"

The one-eyed man said, "Of course, I am granting your wish to die!"

One hand was already gripping his blade.

Crack!

A crisp sound rang out.

The one-eyed man's head suddenly flew up, along with a section of blade hilt and one hand.

The old woman screamed, "Ah, why did your head and hand run away? Ghosts..." Her voice was hoarse and shrill, terrified beyond measure.

The yellow-haired man and the nine-fingered man's expressions changed drastically. They overturned the table in one motion and sprang to their feet.

The one-eyed man's hand and head rolled across the ground, while his body remained standing, spraying out a great mist of blood.

Chang'an still held a bowl of wine. He saw a section of crimson blade. The one-eyed man had wanted to draw his blade, but had suddenly died; the blood-red Asura Blade had only been pulled out a tiny distance.

The person who killed him had struck too quickly, unfathomable as gods and ghosts.

The yellow-haired man screamed madly, "Mad old hag, you dare kill my brother?"

The old woman panicked. "I didn't, I didn't... I don't know anything..." Her entire body trembled with fright, and her legs gave way as she fell to the ground.

The yellow-haired man roared, "Die!"

A flash of blood-red light—the blade was already out of its sheath. His crimson blade chopped down at the old woman's head, its shadow as scarlet and savage as blood.

Chang'an lowered his head and drank.

The yellow-haired man's legs suddenly flew up as well. His upper body crashed to the ground, blood spurting wildly. He was in such agony that he could not even scream before fainting.

The remaining nine-fingered man's expression changed drastically. His courage shattered. He had vaguely seen the old woman draw her blade, fast beyond belief. If he had not been deeply versed in blade techniques, he would not have been able to tell that the old woman had struck at all. He had never seen such a fast blade.

A chill ran through his heart. His body shot out as he seized the yellow-haired man from the ground and sprinted down the empty street, ten times faster than that stray cat.

The old woman climbed up from the ground and saw the overturned beef. Regretfully, she said, "They did not even finish their meat before running away. Young man, your legs are nimble. Help this old woman deliver it to them!"

Chang'an finished his wine and smiled bitterly. "I'm too fat. Even if I ran myself to death, I couldn't catch that strong fellow."

The old woman began packing up her stall, loading things onto a handcart as she sighed indistinctly, "I've slaughtered cattle for sixty years. Yet people are still somewhat different from cattle..."

Chang'an suddenly asked, "Was that the Great Body-Shattering Blade Technique?"

The old woman scoffed. "This is a blade technique for slaughtering beasts! Little brat of the Ning family, hurry and leave. The soldiers of Danyang Prefecture will be here soon..."

Chang'an's expression turned solemn. He bowed and said, "Thank you, Granny, for saving me. This junior takes his leave!"

The old woman said, "It is good to kill beasts that sow chaos. Otherwise, how can ordinary folk live... The night is deep. When walking in darkness, do not let your shadow trip you..."

Chang'an fell into thought and turned to leave.

Yet he had forgotten to pay.

The old woman seemed to have forgotten as well. Slowly pushing her handcart, she gradually disappeared toward the other end of the long street.

The night was cold, the moon was round, and Chang'an's shadow was long!

How could a shadow trip someone?! Chang'an could not understand it. His mind began turning over matters, starting from when Liu Xuanfeng and Old Liu had suddenly appeared at the village entrance.

Suddenly, he stumbled and fell.

Chang'an was startled. Pain shot through his knee, where the skin had been scraped raw. The stone slabs of the street were too rough. Somewhat disheveled, he climbed up from the ground, then stopped breathing altogether. He saw only a black shadow appear before him like a ghost, silent and soundless, as though drifting through the air.

The night wind was chillingly sinister.

Was this a ghost?!

Chang'an caught his breath and asked in a deep voice, "Are you Ghost Shadow?"

Ghost Shadow let out a low, sinister voice. "Ghost Shadow, whose brother died."

Chang'an said, "Then you must be Ghost Shadow. Ghost Hand became a true ghost beneath my hands. Have you finally come to avenge him?"

Ghost Shadow said, "That's right. Ghost Hand died miserably. Ning Family's Chang'an, you are doomed. You will die a hundred times more miserably than Ghost Hand!"

Whoosh!

Ghost Shadow disappeared, leaving behind a gloom of terror and the shadow of death.

He enjoyed admiring his prey's fear, and he would slit their throats at the moment they feared most. That brought him pleasure.

Chang'an paid him no heed and walked toward the end of the street.

A hundred zhang beyond the end of the long street was the inn where he was staying. An old locust tree stood there, an unmistakable marker.

Whoosh!

Ghost Shadow suddenly appeared before Chang'an again and said coldly, "So, you have no inner strength. You have become useless. Heh heh, pitiful little lamb..."