Farewell, Jianghu (End of Volume)

Liu Wuqiu is dead.

The powerful roar echoed throughout Wangxian County. As dawn broke and the moon that had shone all night faded, the life force within the wooden house slowly disappeared along with it.

His descendants, due to their actions, had long since scattered and fled. It was Wang Anfeng and the other two who buried him, in a small village the old man had spoken of in his ramblings.

The villagers were simple and kind. Flowers bloomed beautifully, paths connected the fields, and chickens and dogs could be heard. But if one asked about Mei Chuxue, there was no trace of her existence. Only the oldest white-haired elder vaguely remembered a young lady who had a beautiful smile back then.

In the burial grounds behind the village, Wang Anfeng, Xiahou Xuan, and Huangfu Xiong searched for a long time and found the overgrown grave of Mei Chuxue. The inscription was childish, but the intense longing and hatred still lingered after sixty-eight years. They silently cleared the weeds, borrowed tools, and buried Liu Wuqiu and the folding fan he had cherished for sixty-eight years beside her.

"Although the three of us have no formal master-disciple relationship with Master Liu, we have the reality of one. Since we have received his true teachings, we will bury Master Liu with the rites of disciples."

Xiahou Xuan stood before the grave. He and Huangfu Xiong's two guards had been sent far away. Only the three of them stood there now. His calligraphy was the best, possessing the grace of dragon script and phoenix seals. On the tombstone, he carved a line of text with the Dragon Roaming Moon Gazing Sword, and then, together with Wang Anfeng and Huangfu Xiong, they bowed, treating him as a master.

After bowing, Xiahou Xuan looked at the sickly man holding a wooden zither in the distance and said, "I almost lost my life this time. I don't think I can easily move around in the martial world. Besides, I've received the true teachings of an Upper Three Ranks Grandmaster, so I need to cultivate properly."

Huangfu Xiong smiled, his face still holding that somewhat casual expression. "You really should cultivate... As for me, Xue Thirteen has been captured and brought home, so I can't spar with him anymore. I think I'll go back. Now I know my fist techniques are too poor, I have no face to be in the martial world."

"Anfeng, what are your plans? Why don't you come with me to my home? Although it's in the northern frontier, the vast desert, yellow sand, autumn moon, and nomadic pipes have their own unique charm."

Wang Anfeng smiled and shook his head. "No, Master and Uncle Li are still waiting for me."

Xiahou Xuan lightly closed his folding fan, tapping it against his palm. He pointed at Wang Anfeng and chuckled, "Indeed, there are still a hundred Eighth Rank woods waiting for you." Huangfu Xiong tilted his head back and gulped down a mouthful of wine, then laughed heartily, "Hahaha, indeed, indeed. Anfeng, that's tough!"

Wang Anfeng scratched his head, looking troubled. "There's nothing I can do." He then looked at his two friends, and they all started laughing together. After laughing heartily for a while, Xiahou Xuan's smile faded slightly. He looked at his two friends ahead and slowly clasped his fists, saying, "Then, we'll meet again in the martial world..."

Xiahou Xuan tilted his head back and poured the inferior wine bought from the village entrance down his throat. It felt extremely spicy. The wine wet his clothes. He slammed the pot to the ground, smashing it to pieces, and laughed heartily, "We'll meet again in the martial world!"

Wang Anfeng let out a soft breath and nodded with a smile.

"We'll meet again in the martial world."

In this somewhat remote small village, Wang Anfeng watched Xiahou Xuan ride away on his white horse. The sickly man walked with steps that truly resembled a ghost. The richly dressed burly man clasped his fists in a salute to him, lifted Huangfu Xiong by the collar, stepped into the air, and his long saber behind him let out a continuous, long cry.

Wang Anfeng watched them leave, then turned back to look at the tombstone.

Tomb of Master Liu Wuqiu.

Disciples Xiahou Xuan, Wang Anfeng, Huangfu Xiong erected.

The young man chuckled lightly, turned, and left, with no lingering attachment.

We'll meet again in the martial world.

For some reason today, he felt like drinking.

Riding the Green Dappled Horse, with its extraordinary speed, he quickly returned to the county town. The town was bustling, much livelier than usual. People were talking to each other, elated, all about the sudden ruin of Willow Catkin Villa. The truth of the story, from its beginning, had been distorted beyond recognition through countless retellings. Wang Anfeng chuckled indifferently and rode past.

He returned to the Li family's Hui Chuntang. Feng Lan and Li Kangsheng finally put their worried hearts at ease. Ever since the news of the Willow Catkin Villa incident arrived, they had been in a state of mixed guilt and worry. Feng Lan had even shed many tears. Seeing that Wang Anfeng was unharmed, joy welled up in her heart, and more tears fell.

Wang Anfeng and Li Kangsheng comforted them well. That night, Li Kangsheng got drunk again. Wang Anfeng looked at the wine cup but still didn't touch it.

News spread through the martial world that at the Phoenix Banquet, the long-hidden martial force, the Four Symbols Pavilion, had appeared. Some said they intended to control the scions of noble families to threaten the noble families of Wangxian County. Others claimed they used evil treasures to temper their True Qi and bloodlines for their own benefit.

There were also rumors that the Manor Lord of Willow Catkin Villa, the greedy, lustful, and cowardly Liu Wuqiu, was an informant for the Four Symbols Pavilion. Later, the noble family scion who spread this rumor was whipped by the enraged Dragon General Xu Ziyang in front of the county governor until his skin was torn and he fainted several times. General Xu was still in white robes at the time, seemingly cleaner than usual, his eyes bloodshot, indicating extreme rage.

Three days later, Wang Anfeng had completely learned the basics of the Taisu Needle Technique. He bid farewell to Uncle Li and his wife, pawned the Dragon Roaming Moon Gazing Sword, and had ten taels of silver left. He gave the rest to the Li family's pharmacy to aid their charitable deeds. From the ten taels, he took out five taels and treated Zhang Zhengyang and Zhao Daniu of the Tie Bingwei to a drunken feast at the largest and best restaurant in the county town. The remaining five taels were used to buy some things at the county market, including a good pot of wine for Uncle Li. He put away the clothes Xue Qinshuang had given him, put on his own short jacket again, and left the city alone, leading the Green Dappled Horse.

As he approached the city gate, two tall soldiers pushed aside the crowd and posted a yellow paper on the gate. The crowd squeezed forward to look. Wang Anfeng walked past, but when he heard Liu Wuqiu's name, he stopped and turned back to look. The soldiers were already at the innermost part, loudly repeating:

"Liu Wuqiu of Willow Catkin Villa, with a single punch, entered the Upper Three Ranks of martial arts, killed an Altar Master of the Four Symbols Pavilion, and annihilated a Grandmaster in battle. At that time, celestial phenomena were triggered, and the roar of a tiger echoed throughout Wangxian, with clouds rising like dragons, visible for a thousand miles. We honor him as an elder, not to be insulted, and shall refer to him by a special title."

"He is the Tiger of Wangxian!"

Wang Anfeng's eyes lit up slightly. He heard the exclamations and praises from the surrounding crowd, with "Grandmaster" and "Elder" on every other word. But in his mind, he saw the white-haired old man from Willow Catkin Villa, gently fanning himself with his folding fan.

He said he had no regrets.

The crowd surged forward. Only one person walked slowly against the current. The young man in the blue short jacket left the crowd, mounted the Green Dappled Horse, with Xue Qinshuang's dagger at his waist. In his bag were the sugar cakes from Uncle Li's house and the good wine for Uncle Li. He gently urged the horse, which neighed and galloped away with long strides. The wind whistled past. He rode past the county town, the tea stall, the ferry crossing, and the desolate villa. He seemed to have changed a little, yet also not at all. As dusk approached, familiar cooking smoke could be seen in the distance. The young man's eyes were bright, and he let out a long laugh.

"I'm back!"

(End of this volume)

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