The Pursuers

Old servant Yang Zheng led the way. The five of them took advantage of the night, first crossing a stretch of grassland, then climbing over a small hill before turning onto the only dirt road near the estate. The lush grass vanished without a trace. With one step, they entered a completely different world of hard earth and gravel. The little book boy Mingxiang let out a frightened groan.

Gu Shenwei had been hovering between sleep and wakefulness. Traveling through the night, his sister's wedding, the short sword at his waist—none of it seemed real. Only when the sky began to brighten did he come fully awake, surprised to find the sunlight coming from behind them.

"Huh? Are we heading west?" Cuilan's future in-laws were from the Central Plains, and their marriage had been arranged when they were children. The wedding procession should have been traveling east.

Yang Zheng gave an indistinct grunt, as if the young master's question didn't deserve an answer. After a while, he said, "We'll go to Shule City first. Soldiers there will escort us."

"Shule City?" Gu Shenwei cried out in delight. Shule Kingdom was the largest country in the Western Regions. Strictly speaking, the Gu estate lay within its borders. Its capital sprawled across a vast area and was densely populated, one of the most prosperous places in the Western Regions. Gu Shenwei had heard of it long ago, but though he had moved here more than two years earlier, he had never seen it with his own eyes.

Gu Lun had once held a high office in the Central Plains, so Gu Shenwei didn't find it at all strange that Shule Kingdom would send soldiers to escort them. He only thought their own procession was rather small.

Miss Cuilan sat upright on her horse the whole time, seemingly without any objection to the arrangement. Gu Shenwei regained his energy and rode alongside his sister, chattering about all the interesting things they might see in Shule City. He even drew his short sword and waved it around as if he knew what he was doing. Cuilan was quiet, and when she did speak, it was only to tell her little brother to be careful.

Though she was only three years older, Cuilan watched over her mischievous little brother like a mother.

Because there were two young women in the group, they traveled slowly. The midday sun blazed overhead, but Yang Zheng showed no intention of stopping to rest. Cuilan and her maid were already swaying in their saddles, yet both stubbornly kept quiet. Gu Shenwei felt sorry for his sister, and he himself could barely endure the scorching sun beating down on him. He shouted that he wanted water and food.

Just then, the faint sound of hurried hoofbeats came from behind them.

Yang Zheng dismounted and listened carefully for a while. Then he untied the long spear he usually carried on the right side of his horse and stood in the middle of the dirt road, white hair fluttering, his bearing fierce and imposing.

The others all moved instinctively to the roadside. Only Gu Shenwei's eyes lit up. He jumped off his horse, drew his short sword, and stood shoulder to shoulder with Yang Zheng.

"Big sister, don't be afraid. I'll fight the bandits!"

"Don't get in my way." Yang Zheng held his spear crosswise and used the shaft to nudge the young master behind him. His standing in the Gu family was quite high; apart from Master Gu Lun, he showed no courtesy to anyone, especially since Gu Shenwei was, in name, his disciple.

Gu Shenwei waved his short sword in displeasure, still hoping to get a chance to kill an enemy. Just then, a cloud of dust rose in the distance. The pursuers had arrived.

There were three of them, all dressed in black. They reined in their horses about twenty paces away and drew their waist sabers together.

"The Gu family's people are going back to the Gu family," said the man in black at the center. His voice was as hard and cold as a rusted piece of iron.

"Nameless nobodies should go back to their holes," Yang Zheng said, raising his spear.

The Gu family prized Dual Mastery of Blade and Spear: first the blade, then the spear. Yang Zheng was especially skilled with the spear. Even facing three opponents alone, he showed not the slightest fear.

The man in black on the left spurred his horse forward and swung his saber at Yang Zheng.

Yang Zheng held his spear, its tip angled upward. His legs were apart and his knees slightly bent. He looked like a farmhand gripping a hoe as he braced himself against a charging wolf.

The man in black reached him, his waist saber raised high, ready to hack down. Yang Zheng's spear suddenly shot forward.

The thrust was simple and unadorned, without a single flourish. It didn't even look particularly powerful; it seemed as though a child could dodge it. Yet the man in black failed to react in time. The spear struck his chest, and he fell with his saber, unable even to cry out. His horse continued running for a while before stopping for no apparent reason.

The other two men in black instinctively urged their horses two steps backward.

Gu Shenwei, however, excitedly ran two steps forward. He had never thought much of his master's martial arts, and he was particularly critical of the family's spear technique. Day after day, year after year, Yang Zheng had done nothing but thrust again and again, never practicing any other moves. He had never imagined that such a simple thrust could have such power. The young master couldn't help seeing both his master and the family's spear technique in a new light.

The two remaining men in black exchanged a glance, raised their sabers, and charged at the same time, one from either side, hoping to attack Yang Zheng in a pincer movement.

Gu Shenwei stepped forward too, eager to test the power of his short sword. In truth, he had never learned swordsmanship. He had only halfheartedly practiced a few sets of saber forms, and to him, using a sword was no different from using a saber.

Yang Zheng once again used the shaft of his spear to push the young master behind him. His knees stayed slightly bent, his spear pointed forward. It was as if he knew only that one move.

Sometimes, one move was enough. Yang Zheng had spent decades immersed in the Gu Clan Spear Technique, thrusting at least a thousand times every day, without fail through heat and cold, rain and snow. To anyone else, it was merely an ordinary thrust. In his heart, however, one move became ten thousand; one move stood against ten thousand. The more he practiced, the more subtle and inexhaustible it became. Its mysteries were hard to put into words.

Only Master Gu Lun understood what was in his heart. After all, it was Gu Lun who had taught Yang Zheng the spear technique. Gu Lun often sighed that the spear half of the Gu family's "dual mastery" would have to be inherited by an outsider.

For that reason, Yang Zheng was utterly devoted to the Gu family. As long as he was there, he would never allow anyone to harm the young master or young lady.

The two men in black charged in.

Yang Zheng thrust twice, so swiftly that it seemed he had struck them both at the same time.

One man in black fell from his horse without a sound. The other let out a scream and swayed, yet somehow stayed mounted. He clamped his legs around the horse, lowered his body, and fled west.

Yang Zheng turned and raised his spear one-handed. After taking aim for a moment, he hurled it with all his strength. The spear, more than a zhang long, shot straight out, as steady and fast as a javelin.

More than thirty paces away, the man in black was pierced through the chest by the spear. He dropped to the ground like a rag doll.

"Master Yang!" Gu Shenwei cried, both delighted and awed. "Teach me spear techniques!"

"Thrust at a target five hundred times every day. After three years, you'll have a little skill. Then thrust a thousand times a day for ten years, and you'll have mastered the spear."

"Then I might as well practice Hehe Jin. I'll be even stronger after ten years."

"Mm, that works too." Yang Zheng walked over to the bodies, pulled out his spear, wiped the blood from it on a man in black, then mounted his horse and continued on. The young master's enthusiasm meant no more to him than the three bodies abandoned by the roadside.

Hehe Jin was the Gu family's inherited Internal Force technique, traditionally passed from father to son, never from father to daughter, and from insiders to no outsiders. It was extremely powerful and the foundation of the Gu family's martial arts. Though Yang Zheng had earned Gu Lun's deep trust, he had never been taught it.

Gu Shenwei had begun practicing Hehe Jin when he was only a few years old. Nearly ten years had passed, and he was still stuck at the first level, the very beginning. He had set a record for the slowest progress in the history of the Gu family's descendants.

The five of them continued on. Gu Shenwei was very curious about where the bandits had come from, but Yang Zheng said nothing, so he discussed it eagerly with the little book boy Mingxiang instead. His sister Cuilan and the maid Juxiang gradually recovered from their fright and occasionally chimed in.

After an hour of discussion, Gu Shenwei's enthusiasm had died down. Then Yang Zheng suddenly said:

"He was very skilled."

"Who?" Gu Shenwei asked in surprise.

"The one who nearly escaped."

"Him? I thought he was ordinary. He didn't even get to use a single move before you pierced him clean through with your spear. No, he really was skilled, but our Gu family's spear technique was even better, wasn't it?"

"Heh."

Yang Zheng didn't argue. When experts fought, victory and death were often decided within a few moves. Someone who lost in one move wasn't necessarily much worse than someone who won in one. Change the time or place, and the outcome might be reversed. Such subtleties were difficult to explain to an outsider. Though Gu Shenwei bore the Gu name and had practiced the family's martial arts for some time, he had never truly been initiated. He was still an "outsider."

They traveled a little farther. As dusk fell, Yang Zheng finally agreed to stop and rest. There was no village or inn anywhere nearby, so resting meant little more than sitting for a while on some rocks beside the road.

After a day of travel, Gu Shenwei was completely exhausted. He leaned against his sister while Mingxiang and Juxiang took dry rations and water from their bundles and served their masters.

Yang Zheng ate a few bites and kept glancing east, remaining on full alert.

Gu Shenwei found Master Yang's excessive caution rather pointless. Master Yang had learned not only spear techniques from his father, but also his old-fashioned temperament. With three corpses lying on the main road, who would dare come after them?

"Young Master Huan, there's an important task I'd like you to do. Would you be willing?" Only Yang Zheng in the Gu family called Gu Shenwei "Young Master Huan."

"Of course! Of course! Is it something to do with killing bandits?" Gu Shenwei sprang to his feet in excitement.

"Mm. But it won't be easy, so you don't have to force yourself, Young Master Huan."

"The harder, the better." Gu Shenwei proudly rested a hand on his sword hilt.

"I want you to ride hard to Shule City and bring back reinforcements."

"Reinforcements? But the bandits are dead!"

"There may be more bandits coming after us."

"One spear thrust each for you, and... two sword strikes each for me. We'll kill them all."

"But there are many of them, and with just the two of us, it'll be hard to keep the young lady safe."

Gu Shenwei looked at his sister Cuilan. "That makes sense. I'll go. Who should I find? The king?"

"No. Go to Shule City and find Marshal Yang. Tell him Yang Zheng sent you. He'll understand."

"Okay, okay."

Gu Shenwei stood up and was about to mount his horse when Yang Zheng grabbed him. "Change clothes with Mingxiang. What you're wearing isn't suitable for riding at full speed."

The more formally Yang Zheng arranged everything, the more excited Gu Shenwei became. Mingxiang, however, seemed somewhat reluctant. The young master dragged her off to one side, and the two of them swapped clothes.

The only thing that displeased Gu Shenwei was that Yang Zheng confiscated his short sword too, saying he wouldn't need it on the road. "Keep heading west and ride hard. You'll reach Shule City in a day and a night."

Gu Shenwei leaped onto his horse. All the day's exhaustion vanished without a trace. He flashed his sister a radiant smile. "I'll bring back reinforcements!"

At this point, he was still so innocent that he didn't ask for any details. It never even occurred to him that he hadn't brought anything with him, or how he would find food and water along the way.

The young master of the Gu family rode farther and farther away, gradually shrinking into a tiny black speck on the horizon. Cuilan kept watching her little brother's figure until she suddenly sighed. "I hope the horse runs fast enough. I hope he doesn't turn back."

Yang Zheng's expression changed slightly. Though the young lady was young and gentle by nature, she was perceptive. She had seen much, and in her heart, she already understood most of what was happening.

"Forgive this old servant, young lady. I thought long and hard, but I could only save one person." Yang Zheng dropped to one knee, his voice full of sorrow.

"Uncle Yang, please get up. Saving my little brother is the same as saving the whole Gu family. What have you done to deserve blame?"

The little book boy Mingxiang and the maid Juxiang looked at each other, unable to understand what the young lady meant. Yet unease filled their hearts.