Qingqiu

Thousands of miles from Skywind Martial City, the roadside scenery had grown desolate.

The lush forests gradually thinned, giving way to broad stretches of low shrubs and dark, brownish rocks. The air carried a strange, indescribable odor that grew stronger the farther they went.

"Brother Qin, the outskirts of Black Wind Marsh are just ahead."

Mo Xingkong sat astride his Black Scale Horse and pointed toward the distant mountains shrouded in mist. "Qingqiu lies in that geothermal valley. It may look like the middle of nowhere, but an ordinary martial artist who goes in without someone to guide him is as good as dead."

Qin Jue gave a slight nod and glanced around.

He could feel the heavy dampness in the air, along with a faint trace of poisonous miasma.

"Have you found out who the employer is?" Qin Jue asked calmly, looking straight ahead. He remembered Mo Xingkong had only mentioned that it was a family in Qingqiu, without going into detail.

Mo Xingkong grinned, pulled a wine gourd from his robe, took a swig, and lowered his voice. "Of course. This time, the one paying is the main branch of Qingqiu's Yao Clan. You know the Qingqiu Yao Clan, right? They're an old alchemy family around Skywind Martial City. Several of the city's major medicine shops get their supplies from them. Their family has guarded Black Wind Marsh for generations, making a living off the land. After dealing with poisonous insects and plants for so long, they've become skilled not only at alchemy, but also at curing and using poison. They're quite a force in this region."

As he spoke, a sharp glint flashed in Mo Xingkong's eyes. "The Yao Clan's old family head is seriously ill. The main and Second Branches have fallen out completely over control of the 'Purple Haze Medicine Field.' That field is the lifeblood of the family. Whoever gets control of it will become the Yao Clan's next head."

Qin Jue listened without changing expression. He had no interest in these family feuds. He had seen plenty of such things in both his past and present lives.

People were moved by profit. Fathers and sons turned against each other, brothers fought among themselves. It happened everywhere.

"To keep the family from tearing itself apart, they brought out the old ancestors' rule: settle it on the arena."

Mo Xingkong's grin faded, and he spoke solemnly.

"The match is best of five. To prevent too many outside forces from coveting the prize, the Yao family restricted the participants' cultivation level. Only those in the Jade Bone Realm—martial artists from the Hundred Refinements Third Layer to the Hundred Refinements Sixth Layer—can compete."

"Brother Qin, I know I mentioned before that the fights will be to the death, but I need to say it again. Your opponents may all be ruthless people who don't care if they live or die. No one will show mercy for an eighty-year-old spiritual herb. Once you're on that arena, you have to beat your opponent to death."

Mo Xingkong turned and stared into Qin Jue's eyes, hoping to see a trace of hesitation on the young man's face. "It's not too late to back out."

Qin Jue heard him and smiled, amused.

Back out?

If the edge wasn't honed by blood, how could a sword grow sharp? If he didn't risk everything, how could he break through his limits?

"Save your breath. I thought it through before taking the job. A fight to the death... suits me just fine."

Mo Xingkong froze for a moment. Looking at the young man's breezy composure, he gave a helpless smile and raised a thumb. "All right, then. I guess I worried for nothing."

The two said no more and urged their horses onward.

Half an hour later, the terrain suddenly dipped.

A vast valley appeared before them, shaped like a gourd. They hadn't even reached it when a wave of heat rolled over them.

Geothermal vents dotted the valley, sending white steam skyward like long white dragons. The ground was a strange, dark red, and vivid, bizarre plants grew between the rocks.

This was Qingqiu.

Its abundant geothermal resources suited the growth of certain rare medicinal plants. Besides the Yao family, quite a few herb gatherers and wandering martial artists lived scattered throughout the valley. Along the way, they occasionally spotted crude stone huts and figures appearing and disappearing in the steam.

Mo Xingkong knew the way well. He led Qin Jue through the rocky outskirts and straight toward the depths of the valley.

After about the time it took to drink a cup of tea, an imposing cluster of buildings came into view.

Tall walls of dark green-black basalt, three zhang high, completely separated the pavilions within from the desolate land outside. A plaque with gold lettering on a black background hung over the gate, bearing the four characters "Qingqiu Yao Clan." It looked steeped in history.

On either side of the gate stood two guards in clothes embroidered with the character "Yao," each holding a long spear. Their expressions were stern.

"Stop! Who are you?"

As the two approached, one guard stepped forward and leveled his spear at them, releasing the aura of a Hundred Refinements Fourth Layer martial artist without restraint.

Mo Xingkong dismounted with a smile, then took a green jade token from his robe and handed it over.

"Sorry for the trouble, you two. I'm Mo Xingkong. I've brought someone here at Miss Qingluo's request."

The guard took the token and examined it. His tense expression eased somewhat, but when his gaze fell on Qin Jue, it turned strange.

He looked Qin Jue up and down, his eyes carrying a trace of disdain.

"Someone the young miss invited?"

The guard gave a mocking laugh and tossed the token back to Mo Xingkong. "Another one... All right, go on in. Follow the main road straight ahead. The young miss is waiting at Listening Rain Pavilion."

"Another one?"

Qin Jue caught those three words at once.

It seemed the Yao family's young lady had indeed cast a wide net and invited plenty of people.

Mo Xingkong had clearly caught the meaning too. He leaned close to Qin Jue and lowered his voice. "Brother Qin, looks like something's changed. Yao Qingluo hasn't put all her eggs in one basket."

"But that makes sense. The Purple Haze Medicine Field is too important. She couldn't rely only on the people I found. There are probably other outside experts inside, and they're likely no pushovers."

Qin Jue's expression remained unchanged.

That was only natural.

Mo Xingkong had recommended him, but in the eyes of the Qingqiu Yao Clan, he was merely a somewhat well-known Outer Court Disciple. Even if he had killed Ning Zhiyuan, that was nothing remarkable to the scions of truly powerful families who had seen the world.

Inviting more people and letting the best rise to the top was the safest approach.

"No matter."

Qin Jue remained calm, his steps never slowing.

"All right. As long as you know what you're doing."

Mo Xingkong led his horse along but had no intention of going inside. He was an information broker and never put himself in harm's way.

"I'll leave you here." Mo Xingkong patted the horse's back and looked at Qin Jue, speaking with unusual seriousness. "Brother Qin, that eighty-year-old spiritual herb may be precious, but you only have one life. If things go badly... don't force it."

Qin Jue glanced at him and nodded.

"Have the wine ready. I'll come collect it in ten days."

With that, Qin Jue didn't linger. Carrying his bundle, he walked alone through the heavy vermilion gate.

Mo Xingkong stood outside, watching Qin Jue disappear beyond the gate. He smacked his lips.

"That kid... really isn't afraid of anything."

He sighed, mounted his horse, and rode off.