Farewell, Jianghu (The End of This Volume)

Liu Wuqiu had passed away.

That resounding tiger's roar had echoed throughout Wangxian County.

When dawn broke that day and the silver moon that had illuminated the night finally faded, the aura within the wooden hut slowly vanished along with it.

Because of the deeds they had committed, his descendants had long since scattered in flight.

The three of them—Wang Anfeng, Xiahou Xuan, and Huangfu Xiong—buried him in a small village mentioned in the old man's murmurs.

The villagers were simple and amiable, the flowers bloomed beautifully, and the crisscrossing paths carried the sounds of chickens and dogs.

Yet when Mei Chuxue's name was mentioned, there was not the slightest trace that she had ever existed.

Only the oldest white-haired crone vaguely remembered that there had once been a young lady who had smiled very beautifully.

In the graveyard behind the village, Wang Anfeng, Xiahou Xuan, and Huangfu Xiong searched for a long while before finding Mei Chuxue's grave, already choked with weeds.

The strokes on the tombstone were childish, but the intense longing and hatred had still not faded after sixty-eight years.

They silently cleared away the weeds and borrowed tools, then buried Liu Wuqiu beside her, together with the folding fan he had treasured for sixty-eight years.

"Though the three of us have no teacher-disciple title with Teacher Liu, we have the substance of such a relationship.

"Since we have received his true transmission, we shall bury Teacher Liu according to the rites between master and disciples."

Xiahou Xuan stood before the grave.

His two guards and Huangfu's had been sent far away, leaving only the three of them standing there.

His calligraphy was the finest, possessing the bearing of dragon patterns and phoenix seal script.

Upon the tombstone, he carved a line with the Dragon Roaming Moon Gazing Sword.

Then he bowed together with Wang Anfeng and Huangfu Xiong, treating Liu Wuqiu with the rites due a master.

After rising, Xiahou Xuan glanced at the consumptive ghost holding a wooden qin in the distance and said,

"This time, I nearly lost my life. I'm afraid I won't be able to wander the martial world freely for a while.

"Besides, having received the true transmission of an Upper Three Ranks Grandmaster, I'll have to cultivate properly as well."

Huangfu Xiong smiled, his face still wearing that somewhat casual expression.

"You really should cultivate. As for me, Xue Thirteen has already been dragged back home, so I can't spar with him anymore.

"Thinking it over, I'd better go back. I only realize now that my fist techniques are far too poor. I really have no face to roam the martial world."

"Anfeng, what do you plan to do? Why not come with me to my home?

"Though it's beyond the passes, the desert's yellow sands, autumn moons, and barbarian flutes have a charm of their own."

Wang Anfeng smiled and shook his head.

"No. My master and Uncle Li are still waiting for me."

Xiahou Xuan folded his fan with a crisp snap against his palm and pointed at Wang Anfeng with a laugh.

"Indeed. You still have a hundred eighth-grade trees waiting for you."

Huangfu Xiong tipped back his neck and drained a mouthful of wine before throwing his head back in laughter.

"Hahaha, exactly! Anfeng, that's going to be a bitter burden!"

Wang Anfeng scratched his head, his brows knitted in misery.

"I can't help it."

As he spoke, he looked at his two friends, and the three of them began laughing together.

After laughing heartily for a while, Xiahou Xuan's smile gradually faded.

He looked at the two friends before him and slowly clasped his fists.

"Then... farewell in the martial world."

Xiahou Xuan tipped back his neck and poured the entire jug of cheap wine bought at the village entrance down his throat.

The wine burned fiercely, soaking the front of his clothes.

He suddenly smashed the jug onto the ground, shattering it to pieces, then laughed with abandon.

"Farewell in the martial world!"

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

"Farewell in the martial world."

In this somewhat remote little village, Wang Anfeng watched Xiahou Xuan ride away on a white horse.

The consumptive ghost strode along, truly moving like a specter.

The brocade-clad giant clasped his fists toward him, seized Huangfu Xiong by the back of his collar, and stepped into empty space.

The heavy saber on his back let out a long, sonorous cry that lingered without end.

Wang Anfeng watched them disappear into the distance, then turned back to glance at the tombstone.

The Tomb of Liu Wuqiu, the Teacher.

Erected by his disciples Xiahou Xuan, Wang Anfeng, and Huangfu Xiong.

The young man chuckled softly, turned, and left without the slightest lingering attachment.

Farewell in the martial world.

For some reason, he felt like having a drink today.

Riding the Green Dappled Horse, whose strange-beast strength carried him swiftly, he soon returned to the county city.

The streets were bustling, far livelier than usual.

People chattered excitedly among themselves, all discussing how Willow Catkin Villa had suddenly fallen into ruin.

The truth of the story had passed through countless mouths and hands from the very beginning, becoming utterly distorted.

Wang Anfeng laughed freely and rode past.

When he returned to Hui Chuntang, Feng Lan and Li Kangsheng finally let their taut hearts settle.

Ever since news of Willow Catkin Villa had arrived, the two had been trapped between guilt and worry.

Feng Lan had shed many tears.

Seeing that Wang Anfeng was completely unharmed, joy welled up in her heart, only to bring tears to her eyes again.

Wang Anfeng and Li Kangsheng comforted her at length.

That night, Li Kangsheng got thoroughly drunk once more, while Wang Anfeng only looked at the cup of wine and still did not touch it.

News spread through the martial world that the Four Symbols Pavilion, a hidden Jianghu power that had lain in wait for a long time, had appeared at the Phoenix Banquet.

Some said it intended to hold the scions of those great families hostage and threaten the clans of Wangxian County.

Others claimed it had used evil objects and treasures to temper True Qi and bloodlines for its own benefit.

There were also rumors that the Manor Lord of Willow Catkin Villa, Liu Wuqiu—the greedy, lecherous coward—had been an inside man for the Four Symbols Pavilion.

Later, the young scion who repeated those words was brought before the governor and beaten by Dragon General Xu Ziyang with a bamboo switch until his flesh split and he fainted several times.

At the time, General Xu still wore white robes, seemingly even plainer than usual.

His eyes were blood-red. He must have been furious beyond measure.

Three days later, Wang Anfeng had learned all the basics of the Taisu Needle Technique.

He bid farewell to Uncle Li and his wife.

He pawned the Dragon Roaming Moon Gazing Sword, leaving ten taels of silver.

He gave the rest to the Li family pharmacy to support its good works.

From those ten taels, he took five and invited Zhang Zhengyang and Zhao Daniu of Tie Bingwei to get thoroughly drunk at the largest and finest restaurant in the county city.

With the remaining five taels, he bought some things at the county market, purchased a jug of good wine for Uncle Li, put away the clothes Xue Qinshuang had given him, and put his own short jacket back on.

Alone, he led the Green Dappled Horse out of the city.

Near the city gate, two tall soldiers pushed through the crowd and pasted a sheet of yellow paper beside the gate.

The crowd surged forward to read it.

Wang Anfeng continued on his way, only stopping and turning back when he heard Liu Wuqiu's name.

The soldiers were already standing at the very front, loudly repeating the announcement.

"Liu Wuqiu of Willow Catkin Villa entered the Upper Three Ranks with a single fist, slew the Altar Master of the Four Symbols Pavilion, and killed a Grandmaster in formation.

"At that moment, he stirred the celestial phenomena. His tiger's roar echoed across Wangxian, while clouds rose like a dragon, visible for a thousand li.

"We of the martial world revere him and honor him as a predecessor. He must not be insulted, and he should be addressed by his epithet."

"He is the Tiger of Wangxian!"

Wang Anfeng's eyes brightened slightly as waves of shocked praise rose around him.

One person called him a Grandmaster, another a predecessor.

Yet the image that surfaced in his mind was the white-haired old man at Willow Catkin Villa, gently stroking his folding fan.

He had said that he did not regret it.

The crowd surged forward like a tide, while one person walked slowly against it.

The young man in the blue short jacket emerged from the crowd and vaulted onto the Green Dappled Horse.

At his waist hung Xue Qinshuang's dagger.

In his bundle were Uncle Li's sweet cakes and the good wine for Uncle Li.

He lightly raised the reins.

The Green Dappled Horse gave a neigh and broke into a run, its long legs stretching out.

The wind howled as he rode through the county city, past the cool-tea stall, and swept by the ferry and the desolate villa.

He seemed to have changed a little, and yet seemed not to have changed at all.

The sky gradually darkened.

In the distance, familiar cooking smoke rose into view.

The young man's eyes shone brightly as he threw back his head and laughed.

"I'm back!"