Assassination

"Apricot blossoms fade after the rain, their rouge hues scattering into withered red. Fragrant waters drift away, and as people grow distant, it is hard to entrust these lingering spring sentiments. I hate to part from my noble lord, my eyes straining toward the shadows of the wall..."

On the private stage of the He family estate, several actors in full makeup were singing, their voices trilling in a high-pitched, melodic "yi-ya."

Below the stage, guests were enjoying the performance and the banquet. The main table was situated in a pavilion directly facing the stage, reserved for the most distinguished guests. Among them were reclusive masters, bold wanderers from the northern deserts, and several leaders of local gangs. The guests toasted one another, cups clinking in a lively and bustling atmosphere.

"Young Master He, this Daoist has heard that you intend to hunt the One-Horned Mountain Demon of Four Peaks Mountain. Is there any truth to this?"

The speaker was an old Daoist priest draped in robes, his hair graying and styled in a traditional topknot.

This man was known as Chi Ling Daoist, the head of the Flying Fish Sect. In his youth, he had carved out a formidable reputation in North Prefecture with his "Red Fish Sword," and later founded the Flying Fish Sect, earning him considerable renown among the martial artists of the North.

"Indeed," He Ping replied, fiddling with a black fan as he sat at the head of the eastern table. He nodded slightly upon hearing the Daoist's words.

"I have heard that the One-Horned Mountain Demon of Four Peaks Mountain is a scourge, exceptionally ferocious. Over the years, it has frequently descended to harass the populace, sometimes darting into villages in broad daylight to devour people, or breaking into homes at night, wiping out entire families. The local villagers live in constant terror, forced to abandon their ancestral lands and flee elsewhere..."

The One-Horned Mountain Demon was not a creature that particularly favored human flesh; such monsters usually dwelled deep in the mountains, rarely encountered by ordinary folk. However, the one at Four Peaks Mountain had developed a taste for humans, frequently descending to prey upon the locals with a brutality that was truly harrowing.

According to the villagers, the demon had initially only snatched lone travelers in the wild, but it had grown increasingly brazen, entering villages and courtyards to hunt. At times, it would even strike in broad daylight, even when several people were present.

Among the most tragic tales from around Four Peaks Mountain were accounts of several families whose homes were breached in the dead of night, with every man, woman, and child devoured by the demon.

He Ping paused, his brow furrowing slightly, before continuing: "As it stands, the villages around Four Peaks Mountain have all been abandoned, and the dwellings have fallen into ruin. While the neighboring villages are far enough away to be safe for now, the merchants and caravans passing by Four Peaks Mountain have suffered greatly of late..."

"I see."

Chi Ling Daoist nodded. The He family business was built on rice trading and various other lucrative ventures. Every year, during the year-end settlement, their debt-collecting teams traveled through most of the counties in North Prefecture. Since Four Peaks Mountain was a vital trade route to the south, it was no wonder this young master of the He family was so concerned.

"However, this demon is a supernatural entity, not a common beast. If you don't mind, Young Master, count this old Daoist in for your trip to Four Peaks Mountain!"

Chi Ling Daoist spoke with a bold, heroic air.

"Then I thank you in advance, Daoist."

He Ping smiled.

"I didn't expect Young Master He to have such a heart for ridding the region of evil. I, Old Zhong, shall also lend a hand."

A burly man with a thick, bristly beard sitting in another chair spoke up: "Regarding the demon-slaying, our Hu Ma Gang will also send men to join this grand endeavor."

"Young Master He is truly benevolent and righteous. The Iron Heart Martial Hall is also willing to contribute."

A middle-aged man in a long gown with a trimmed beard, sitting in a pear-wood chair, stood up and bowed with cupped hands.

"Young Master He, if you would have us, the Long Wind Society will also do its utmost to assist..."

Another leader of a local gang stood up, and soon after, several others stepped forward, expressing their willingness to join the "demon-slaying" operation.

"Then I truly thank you all."

He Ping snapped his folding fan shut and stood up, holding the fan in one hand as he cupped his fists toward the guests.

"Regarding this 'demon-slaying,' I have already reported it to Prefect Sheng of this city. The Prefect has expressed that the imperial court is also deeply troubled by the havoc caused by the One-Horned Mountain Demon of Four Peaks Mountain. Should we successfully eliminate this monster, the court will surely provide rewards. Furthermore, the He family is prepared to offer a bounty of fifty thousand taels as a reward for those who contribute the most."

As his voice fell, the crowd erupted in a stir, everyone marveling at the He family's immense wealth.

"Beyond that, everyone who participates in the 'demon-slaying' will receive a stipend, and the families of those injured or killed in the effort will be provided with compensation by the He family..."

He Ping chuckled.

Half the reason he had thrown this birthday banquet was to recruit a group of martial artists to handle this matter for him.

According to his investigations over the past year, he had discovered that the One-Horned Mountain Demon was at least two or three hundred years old, its ferocity far exceeding what martial artists like Chi Ling Daoist could comprehend.

The Immortal Puppet Sect had some research on such monsters, and He Ping knew well that a One-Horned Mountain Demon's power grew with its age.

A two- or three-hundred-year-old demon was something no ordinary martial artist could hope to defeat. It would likely require the imperial court to mobilize an entire battalion of troops, armed with bows and crossbows, to surround the forest and launch a full-scale assault to have any chance of success.

The He family is, after all, merely a merchant clan; we cannot maintain a private army. The best way for me to take down this demon is to use the power of silver. As long as the price is high enough, these martial artists will naturally risk their lives for me.

Money could move mountains.

After taking charge of the He family's affairs, He Ping had discovered the power of wealth. He remembered a famous saying from his previous life: "Problems that can be solved with money are not problems." That might not always be true, but it was certainly effective at times.

To be frank, it is also because my own body is simply not suited to face that demon personally, he thought, feeling a sense of helplessness as he socialized with the guests.

The 'chronic illness' within me is growing more severe. I cannot perform puppet arts for long; if I act recklessly, the yin energy will backflow, and the signs of 'blood leakage' will only worsen. I have no choice but to rely on the help of these martial artists.

Having studied the arts of the Immortal Puppet Sect, He Ping knew the vast chasm between Daoist sorcery and martial arts. The gap was like a bottomless ravine. The meager strength of these martial artists would be utterly unable to withstand his secret puppet techniques.

He had been privately befriending martial artists and opening the He estate to retainers and guests—welcoming everyone from talented individuals to street thugs and petty thieves—not because he had nothing better to do or too much money to spend.

He Ping's true intention was to search for genuine masters and recluses, those who practiced the true path, but this goal had remained unfulfilled.

In all these years, I have never encountered another practitioner. At most, I have only heard rumors among the common folk. It is truly bizarre.

Suddenly, a sharp, angry shout rang in his ear.

"Villain, I will have your life!"

He Ping turned his head just in time to see a young servant in green, who had been holding a tray, suddenly draw a dagger and lunge at him with a fierce strike.