At night, the great river's banks were even noisier and livelier than by day. The lights of ten thousand households reflected upon the river, like a galaxy fallen into the mortal world.
The painted boats, curved like crescents and bright as full moons, were moored at the riverside docks. Servants in tight-fitting attire stood below, checking wooden plaques and welcoming guests in and seeing them off.
Quite a few people had gathered atop the docks: richly dressed middle-aged country gentry, dashing and elegant scholars, and merchants with bulging bellies and wealth enough to rival a region.
These people divided into different circles and conversed with one another. Laughter, recitations of poetry, and whispered murmurs all set off the Jiang Ting Night, famed throughout the land, as it had only just begun.
At that moment, a carriage stopped before the dock. Though no one had yet stepped down, some people seemed unable to restrain themselves from glancing at the carriage, only to swiftly shift their gazes away again.
Gao Xian stepped down from the carriage and looked over those people. He seemed to have seen through something, yet did not expose it.
Tang Yao led Gao Xian aboard while explaining the affairs and rules of the pleasure house: the madam, the procurer, Big Teapot, and all sorts of coded phrases. Gao Xian found it quite eye-opening. The ancients really knew how to have fun.
"Honored guests!"
"This way, please! This way, please!"
The procurer eagerly came forward. He smiled at everyone he saw; though his enthusiasm was somewhat excessive, because he treated everyone the same way, it did not seem deliberate.
The women aboard the boat either leaned or stood. Every one of them wore a gauzy veil over her face and silk robes that displayed graceful figures.
The colored lanterns aboard bore paintings of beautiful ladies, while gilt bronze braziers gave off warmth, making it feel as though spring had arrived early. Along with the warm fragrance of soft jade and the warbling laughter of orioles—
An air of romance and extravagance arose of its own accord.
Those who came unconsciously sank into this world of glittering luxury and rouge fragrance.
As night began, song and dance did not cease.
Everyone gathered on the painted boat's second floor. Some sat in private rooms, while others sat directly in the hall, beautiful women at their sides and wine flowing without end.
The zither music was melodious, and songs and dances flourished in peace.
After three rounds of wine, many were pleasantly drunk. The songs and dances in the hall grew increasingly sultry and fiery, while some unspeakable little tunes made listeners burn in their hearts.
The procurer seated high above raised his head and looked out the window. The night had deepened, and the moon had climbed to the treetops.
Feeling that the time had come, he gave a meaningful look to the servant holding a teapot in the corner below.
The man holding the teapot immediately nodded in acknowledgment and headed outside the cabin, preparing to send word.
"The moonlight is beautiful, and the wine is at its height. Why are you in such a hurry to leave?" Gao Xian, dressed in white and drunkenly leaning against a pillar carved with strange beasts as though intoxicated by the glittering luxury, suddenly opened his eyes.
The moment he spoke, his voice drowned out all the singing and dancing in the room.
In an instant, it seemed as though everyone stopped moving because of his words.
Heroine Hong Yuan, who had originally come to watch the excitement and had been merrily fooling around with a songstress at her side, also sensed that something was wrong.
The sudden words of the white-robed youth made the servant holding the teapot break out in sweat across his back.
He wanted to pretend he had heard nothing and walk straight out of the boat, only to find that he could not move even a single step.
The white-robed youth straightened up and extended his hand. A bamboo tube flew up from the servant's body and landed in his hand.
The procurer high above, who had been quietly watching everything, was shocked beyond measure. How did this man know so clearly? Could he divine the future, or did he possess fiery golden eyes?
Did that mean everything in the hall had long since fallen under his gaze? The procurer suddenly had a bad premonition.
The secret letter that was about to be sent drifted into the white-robed youth's hand.
The youth was in no hurry. He even remained leaning against the pillar and took a sip from the wine flask before examining it closely.
That careless movement made everyone feel a chill in their bones, as though everything about them was under his control.
After reading it, the white-robed youth gave a scornful laugh. The paper in his hand ignited without wind, turning into flames that vanished from between his long, pale fingers.
"I... you..."
The servant suddenly dropped to his knees and began coughing violently. In despair, he reached toward the procurer above, who was staring at him in horror. "Save me... save..."
Before his words ended, like the note sealed within the bamboo tube, layers of fire burst from inside his body and pierced outward.
Then, with a puff, his entire body turned to ashes in midair.
Like sparks and ash after paper had burned away, they scattered across the floor.
"Crash!"
In an instant, everyone moved. Terrified out of their minds by this sight, they lost all reason. Wine cups and silver flasks fell from their hands beneath the tables, and many even drew daggers, knives, and swords from their persons.
Tang Yao, dressed as a servant and seated beside Kongchenzi, finally saw clearly. Her carefree smiles and drunken haze vanished by more than half at once, and she felt utterly terrible.
So there had never been any Jiang Ting Flower Moon Night aboard this boat tonight. All the flourishing songs and dances, all the elegant scholars, sons of officials, wealthy merchants, and rich magnates had been an act.
Even the songstress beside her, who had been fooling around with her and playing drinking games—all of these people were disciples and assassins of the Five Gods Cult.
The wine flask in the procurer's hand fell to the ground, like an order being issued.
Several people lying in wait in the shadows struck as though they had received the command.
The procurer, meanwhile, turned and fled outside. His role was to trap this Daoist in the river, not kill him—or rather, he had never even entertained that thought.
He was not like that batch of foolish Poison God Altar disciples beneath him who rushed up to die. One only needed to see that the Poison God Altar Master had mobilized the Poison God to deal with this man to understand how terrifying he was. This was absolutely not an existence mortals could contend against.
Blades and swords rang together as they howled forth.
The top assassins around Gao Xian had remained motionless, appearing to be nothing more than drinkers at the tables, laughing and shouting without the slightest flaw.
But once they moved, they were like swimming dragons, their weapons like thunderbolts striking from every calculated blind angle to deliver death.
One after another, afterimages crossed wine tables and long desks, all stabbing toward the white-robed youth.
Clink!
The white-robed youth tapped a wine cup with the ivory chopsticks in his hand, producing a pleasant sound.
A violent wind suddenly arose, sweeping through the entire second-floor cabin and rushing out of the Cloud Tower Painted Boat.
Everyone felt as though a supreme will were looking down upon the boat, like the gaze of a deity descending.
Especially those charging together to assassinate the Daoist—they were frozen in midair, maintaining their attacking poses.
Their cold blades were only a handspan from the Daoist, yet they could not advance even an inch.
Clink!
The Daoist moved again. He propped his feet upon the table and raised the silver wine flask in his hand, drinking deeply.
With every sip, he tapped once.
With every tap, someone died.
A frenzied song played, becoming a horrifyingly beautiful spectacle of flying smoke and scattered flowers.
Those within the second-floor cabin did not dare move at all, while those outside screamed in terror and leaped into the river one after another.
Yet the people inside watched helplessly as those outside jumped toward the river one after another. Unfortunately, before they even struck the water, they let out shrieks and turned to drifting ash that scattered over the river.
Whoever moved, died.
They saw that terrifying sight with perfect clarity through the hollowed floral windows.
The entire hall fell silent. Not one person dared move.
"On such a night of blooming flowers and full moon, such fine hour and beautiful scene, how could we stop singing halfway through before the wine has been enjoyed?" the white-robed youth said with a smile, as though nothing had happened.
Only then did the musicians and dancers on the stage dare move.
They began playing and dancing once more, though their legs had gone weak with fright and their faces were deathly pale.
The songstresses began singing soft, fragrant tunes, while the musicians played cheerful melodies.
Amid a night of fish and dragon dances, everyone present trembled in fear.
Only the white-robed youth sat upright in the center, softly singing along with the strings, his sleeves dancing lightly.
The youth's chopsticks gently tapped against the wine flask, yet every strike seemed to stab into everyone's hearts and livers. Those who heard it sweated from head to toe, trembling in terror.
Heroine Hong Yuan and Tang Yao were utterly dumbstruck. They had imagined countless carefree and romantic scenes of the martial world, but had never witnessed anything so shocking.
"The wine is gone, and the mood has scattered. Let tonight end here!"
At that moment, the Daoist merely swept a cold gaze over the demons and monsters before him, then flicked the ivory chopsticks from his hand.
The violent wind and tremendous force tore through the painted boat's wooden wall, piercing from within to without and opening a wide, long passage.
The ivory chopsticks shot all the way down to the stern.
The procurer, who had fled to the stern and was preparing to board a small boat to escape, happened to turn and look at the assassins who had jumped from the boat and died one after another. Terror and despair filled his eyes, and then he could move no more.
He knew neither life nor death, neither beginning nor end.
He could only watch with wide-open eyes as a streak of light came toward him, pierced his skull, and plunged him into darkness.
His corpse fell into the river, feeding the fish and shrimp.
At the instant he fell into the river, there was instead relief in his eyes.
The white-robed youth carried the wine flask and drifted down from above as freely as the wind, landing upon the bow. The night gale sent his white robes fluttering and dancing.
The calm river surface had begun to churn with waves. Mists continuously rose from beneath the water, winding across the surface and spreading outward.
"It has come."
Croak!
The Golden Toad cried once! The river surged with waves!
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