After the Deed, Brush Off Your Robes and Go

"Ah—"

"My hand... my hand's broken!"

A bloodcurdling scream rang across the dock. The burly thug who had looked so vicious moments before clutched his limp right hand. Blood seeped between his fingers as he sank to one knee, howling in pain.

"Worthless bastard!" The stocky leader drew his iron staff and swung his free hand into the back of the screaming thug's head. "Quit wailing like someone died! Shut up!"

He cursed viciously, the flesh of his cheeks trembling as he glared at the black-clad wanderer who had leaped onto the dock.

When he saw that the stranger was alone, his anger flared. The wanderer wore a bamboo hat that hid his eyes, but his pale jaw and the clear voice he had spoken in marked him as a young man.

"Where'd this green little bastard come from, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong? You don't know how many eyes the Horse Lord has? Looking for a beating because you're tired of living?"

The leader raised his iron staff and pointed it straight at the black-clad figure, looking ready to punch holes in him if he failed to give an explanation.

The dozen or so other thugs came to their senses. Grinning viciously, they raised clubs, sabers, and swords and gathered behind their leader.

Every eye was hostile. At one word from their leader, they would swarm the troublemaker and beat him to death or cripple him.

Plenty of travelers and merchants passed through the dock. They were used to seeing overseers and thugs abuse the laborers, but they had never expected a wanderer to see injustice and "lend a hand with a flying stone" today.

They stopped to watch, studying both sides with interest. Some were visibly excited, eager for the fight to begin so they could enjoy a show.

There were even a few armed martial artists among the spectators, dressed for travel with sabers or swords at their sides. They merely folded their arms and watched, their expressions calm.

Splash!

A large ship flying a sail marked "Tao" pushed through the water and drew up to the dock. A bright-eyed girl in a fiery red dress hurried onto the deck and asked an elderly steward who was directing the crew, "Uncle Yong, what's happening on the dock?"

As she spoke, she turned her clear, shining eyes toward the noisy crowd.

Two more people emerged from the cabin. The first was a handsome young man in embroidered finery, seemingly in his twenties, yet already possessed of the bearing of someone accustomed to command. Authority showed between his brows.

Behind him came a broad-shouldered, large-handed man with a powerful build and rugged features. His eyes flashed keenly as he walked.

The beautiful girl in red waved to them with a smile. "Big Brother, Master Jin, come watch!"

The steward, whom she had called Uncle Yong, answered respectfully, "Young master, young miss... Old Third Yan's men were beating and berating the laborers. A wanderer couldn't bear to watch and injured one of them. It looks like a fight's about to break out."

"Oh? Hurry, bring the ship in! I want to watch from shore," the girl in red said eagerly.

The young man in finery gave a wry smile. His sister loved tales of sword-wielding heroes and often dreamed of their adventures. Now that she could see one unfold before her eyes, of course she would not miss it.

Just then, a strong, ringing voice sounded from the dock.

"It doesn't matter who I am. When the road is uneven, someone levels it; when injustice appears, someone sets it right. Bullying people for no reason is wrong. I can't stand by and let you keep doing as you please."

Everyone on the dock saw the black-clad wanderer raise his long saber beneath his bamboo hat. He spoke with passion, every word clear and forceful.

For a moment, expressions varied across the crowd, but everyone looked at him strangely.

Not with admiration. They looked at him as though he were an utter fool.

Aboard the Tao Family ship, the young man in finery heard that impassioned declaration and laughed despite himself. "So he's a reckless greenhorn."

Even Master Jin's stern face bent into a smile. "One look tells you this boy's fresh out of the nest. I wonder whose family he belongs to. If he has someone behind him, he might get away with a beating. If he has no backing at all and falls into Old Third Yan's hands, then... heh."

Master Jin chuckled, but everyone present, including the girl in red, understood what he meant.

She seemed lively and innocent, but she had grown up in a great family. She knew something of the world's cruelty.

If that wanderer had no one behind him, injuring Old Third Yan's man today could leave him begging for both life and death, granted neither.

Yan Tieshan's headquarters stood near the center of the dock, only twenty or thirty paces from where the thugs faced the wanderer.

He stood on the gambling den's second floor, hands clasped behind his back, watching the scene through an open window with cold eyes.

Five others occupied the room: four guards who were almost never far from his side, and one more man.

Two of the guards were deserters who had gotten into trouble in the army. The other two were fugitives from the streets who had considerable skill.

Yan Tieshan had only twenty or thirty elite thugs, and these four led them.

Not long ago, he had also recruited five hunters who were excellent archers.

Yan Tieshan had once thought his forces impressive enough to hold a dock and profit from a few streets and alleys.

But a formidable intruder had broken in one night recently. Even after twenty of his men were killed or wounded, they had failed to stop the man. The incident stuck in Yan Tieshan's back like a thorn, and lately he had been looking for a true expert to serve as his right hand.

That expert stood beside him now. He appeared to be in his forties and wore an oddly shaped curved saber at his waist. His body was as thin as a hemp stalk, the bones of his shoulders and collarbones jutting out like blades. Only his eyes seemed alive—sharp as a hawk's, with a chilling light.

The gaunt man gave a rasping laugh. "Brother Yan, it seems your territory isn't peaceful either. You've taken good care of me these past few days, and I'm not one to accept favors without doing a thing. How about I catch this troublemaking brat for you and repay your kindness?"

Coldness flashed in Yan Tieshan's eyes, though he smiled. "Why trouble Brother He over a brat who doesn't know the height of heaven or the depth of earth?"

Despite his pleasant tone, Yan Tieshan was furious.

The gaunt man was He Xiaofeng. Thin as a hemp stalk though he was, with seemingly no strength to speak of, he had mastered a fine saber art. His strikes were strange and fierce, his blade swift as the wind; few could withstand even one round of his rapid attacks.

He had made his name in the Hero Arena. In less than a year, he had become an arena champion with nine consecutive victories.

To win He Xiaofeng over, Yan Tieshan had lavished food, drink, silver, and women on him.

The extravagance of just a few days made even Yan Tieshan wince. He had begun to regret it.

Yet He Xiaofeng accepted every benefit while refusing to do any work. He would not even call Yan Tieshan "Third Master." Now he wanted to repay all that generosity by dealing with a single brat. How could Yan Tieshan not burn with anger?

He Xiaofeng gave two humorless chuckles and did not bother looking at Yan Tieshan's face.

He truly looked down on Yan Tieshan.

Linjiang Prefecture governed twelve counties, and wealthy households from those counties funded the Hero Arena. It let them recruit skilled fighters, run betting pools, and amass wealth.

As an arena champion with nine straight wins, He Xiaofeng had no shortage of rich patrons eager to recruit him. Why would he think highly of Yan Tieshan?

To He Xiaofeng, Yan Tieshan was merely a street thug who had stepped in dog shit and somehow made a fortune.

He knew exactly why Yan Tieshan had invited him. He simply took the man for a fool with money to burn and helped himself to food, drink, silver, and women.

Work for Yan Tieshan? What work?

When had He Xiaofeng ever agreed to that?

On the dock, the stocky leader's jowls twitched at the wanderer's ringing words, and a savage light flared in his eyes.

"So you're a damned fool! Someone levels an uneven road, is that it? Get him! Break his legs and see how he levels anything then!"

At his order, the dozen or so thugs behind him roared and charged with short blades and long clubs. They rushed Hong Yuan like rabid dogs, with no coordination to speak of.

When I was little, stories on screen were always full of bullies picking on the old and weak, until a young hero showed up and knocked them flat in a few moves. I suppose this counts as making that dream come true?

Hong Yuan held his saber without drawing it and watched the thugs rush toward him.

Of the first four to reach him, two roared and swung clubs at his head. The other two, one on either side, flung out their hands.

"Die, brat!"

Pff! Pff, pff!

Clouds of fine dust and sand burst toward Hong Yuan's face—lime powder and grit. He had already noticed their furtive movements. Turning aside from the cloud, he played along and shouted, "Despicable!"

His hand spun with startling speed, bringing the sheathed saber across to catch both descending clubs. The two thugs strained with all their might, but his arm did not budge.

He looked at them and urged, "Stop, both of you! You've got faces like rats and badgers, ugly enough to offend the eye. You must have been bullied plenty since birth. You're poor wretches, just like these dockworkers. Why help the tiger do evil? Turn back while you still can."

"Fuck you!" Enraged, both thugs lifted their legs to kick his chest.

Thud! Thud!

Hong Yuan tapped the ground and kicked twice in a flowing motion. Though he moved second, his feet struck first, landing on their faces almost together. The blows rearranged their features and sent a surge of tremendous force through them. Blood sprayed from their mouths and noses as they flew off the dock into the river, throwing up great splashes.

"If you don't want to come ashore, into the river you go."

Hong Yuan sighed. The sheathed saber spun like a top in his hand, then tapped the mouths of the two thugs who had thrown lime and sand. Sharp cracks rang out. Both staggered back clutching their mouths, every tooth smashed.

In a breath, four thugs had lost the ability to fight. The remaining attackers faltered at the sight. The stocky leader swung his iron staff and charged like a wild boar, bellowing:

"Attack together! Beat the brat to death!"

Hong Yuan advanced instead of retreating, plunging straight into the mob. His saber guarded left and right. Though he wielded only one blade, he blocked more than a dozen strikes from clubs and steel, and not one touched him.

He slipped among them like a swimming snake. As though he had eyes in the back of his head, he always dodged at the last instant or caught a descending blade or club with his scabbard.

His sheathed saber jabbed, slapped, smashed, and chopped, striking hands, legs, faces, and mouths. Bones cracked one after another beneath a rising chorus of cries.

"Stop! I can't control my strength. It'd be terrible if I accidentally killed you!"

Hong Yuan turned his scabbard and smacked the stocky leader across the mouth. Teeth shattered at once, filling his mouth with blood.

The spectators stared in disbelief. Many had expected the wanderer to be beaten to death beneath a storm of clubs. Instead, the opposite had happened.

Without even drawing his saber, the wanderer had put more than a dozen strong thugs on the ground, every one of them injured.

It was the thugs who suffered now. Each had one or more broken bones. They had never been particularly tough; they could bully common folk, but faced with this, their viciousness vanished. They had long since wanted to flee.

On the Tao Family merchant ship, the young man in finery stood with his hands behind his back and smiled. "His moves are surprisingly sound. He's quite a capable fighter. A pity..."

The girl in red looked at him in surprise. "What's a pity?"

Master Jin stepped beside the young man and said grimly, "The boy is too softhearted. Even now, he won't draw his saber and kill. Hmph! Didn't his elders teach him? There's no room for mercy in a fight to the death. He may be kind enough to spare his enemies, but they won't necessarily spare him. Once they see how merciful he is, any enemy can use it against him."

Master Jin gave a cold smile and looked toward the two-story gambling den at the center of the dock. "Watch. Old Third Yan will make his move soon."

On the gambling den's second floor.

He Xiaofeng watched the thugs cry out in pain, calling for their parents, and chuckled. "Brother Yan, this boy may be green, but his skills are impressive. My offer stands. I'll take care of him and repay you for these past few days."

Yan Tieshan could no longer keep smiling. His face darkened, but he waved the offer away. "No need. My men can handle him."

He nodded to his four guards and left the room with them surrounding him. Five dark-skinned men waited in the corridor outside, longbows and quivers on their backs.

Yan Tieshan glanced left and right. "Gather the men. Take that troublemaker."

"Third Master!" Scholar Qian, nicknamed the Poison-Heart Scholar, had been waiting nearby in a scholar's long robe. He stroked his goatee and approached with a smile. "I have a plan that will capture that blind brat with ease."

He waved his feather fan, looking supremely confident.

Yan Tieshan glared. "Stop keeping me in suspense. Say it."

Scholar Qian coughed. "Third Master, the brat is skilled, but he hasn't dared to kill a single one of our men. He's not just fresh out of the nest; I doubt he's ever spilled blood. Since he's such a kindhearted fellow, that gives us an opening... heh."

Scholar Qian leaned in and whispered a few words into Yan Tieshan's ear. Yan Tieshan's eyes lit up, and he laughed. "Good! An excellent plan, Military Advisor Qian. You really are my strategist. If that brat wants to play the good man, we'll let him play it to the end. Let's go!"

Yan Tieshan strode out of the gambling den with four guards around him and He Xiaofeng following behind. Dozens of thugs crowded about them.

They came straight toward the fight, bristling with murderous intent. Spectators hurriedly backed away. Even wealthy men who did not fear Yan Tieshan had no wish to provoke him now.

At the sight of a dozen men sprawled across the ground and moaning, Yan Tieshan snorted and abruptly waved a hand.

Scholar Qian gave a slight nod. Several burly thugs carrying steel sabers rushed into the nearby crowd of laborers, set their blades against a few men's necks, and marched them out, glaring murderously at Hong Yuan.

Yan Tieshan glanced at Hong Yuan and said coldly, "Brat, I don't care where you came from. Play the hero anywhere you like, but you should never have come to Third Master's territory. Who can you save now? At my word, their heads will fall."

Hong Yuan glanced at the trembling laborers held beneath the blades. He walked past the fallen thugs and stopped three zhang from Yan Tieshan, one hand on his saber. "Oh? And what do you want, Old Third Yan?"

Yan Tieshan's heart jolted at his calm expression. Something felt wrong. After everything the brat had said, shouldn't he be furious?

Suppressing the unease, he said, "It's not about what I want. It's about how you intend to settle this."

"I was minding my own business at home, bothering nobody, and you came out of nowhere and injured my men."

Yan Tieshan fixed Hong Yuan with a cold stare. "I'll say this once. If you want a fight, I'll have these poor bastards killed immediately. They'll die because of you, and then we can fight it out. If you want to talk, come into my building."

Yan Tieshan did not demand that Hong Yuan drop his saber and surrender. Even a softhearted fool would struggle to accept that.

For now, he meant to lure the brat inside. His lair was full of traps and mechanisms; once the boy entered, Yan Tieshan could do as he pleased with him.

Of course, even in a straight fight, Old Third Yan did not believe that dozens of thugs would fail to bring him down. He simply did not want to lose too many of his men.

"Since you've said your piece, I'll say mine." Hong Yuan smiled.

"What is it?"

"You can die now."

The moment the words left his mouth, Hong Yuan burst forward. The stone slab beneath his feet cracked apart, spraying chips as he shot out like an arrow loosed from its string.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed three zhang and closed in on Yan Tieshan. Startled, Yan Tieshan instinctively stepped back.

The four guards surged forward with roars, bringing down the long sabers they had held ready upon Hong Yuan's head.

Clang!

Hong Yuan drew his steel saber in a flash like fierce lightning. His blade met all four of theirs at once. The guards shuddered as a violent force surged through their weapons, sending pain through the joints of their thumbs. Horror crossed their faces. Hong Yuan lifted his saber and swept it through the air.

The blade flashed upward like a streak of white silk, slicing across all four throats. With four wet spurts, four heads flew into the sky.

Blood sprayed wildly, but Hong Yuan did not pause. In an instant, he closed on Yan Tieshan, whose face had changed color.

"Not bad, brat!" came a cold voice. He Xiaofeng moved his hand, and the curved saber at his waist was suddenly in his grip. A crescent of cold light flashed toward Hong Yuan's path, as though the boy were about to deliver his own head beneath that moon-cold blade.

Hong Yuan snatched off his bamboo hat and hurled it with a whoosh. It struck the crescent of steel and burst into flying bamboo splinters. Through the haze of dust, He Xiaofeng's blade checked for an instant, and his expression changed sharply.

The wanderer lunged past Yan Tieshan. His cold blade flashed and vanished. Then he was gone, shooting toward Scholar Qian. His large hand struck like a tiger leaping from the forest.

Pfft!

Five bloody holes appeared in Scholar Qian's throat. Terror and shock filled his eyes as he fell stiffly to the ground.

Laughter rang out. The crowd saw the wanderer stride away at speed. With a few bounds, he cleared the dock, leaving only his voice behind:

"Kill a man in ten steps; travel a thousand li without a trace."

"When the deed is done, brush off your robes and go, your deeds and name buried deep."

Hong Yuan had not meant to show off, but the moment had built to such a pitch that he could not leave the words unsaid. Laughing and singing, he went on his way.

The dock fell utterly silent.