Gathering at Lanyue Garden (5k)

A sharp wind swept over Hong Yuan, making his robes snap and flutter.

His long hair hung loose, left to the fierce wind's whims.

He held a green-skinned wine gourd in his palm. Slowly draining the last mouthful, he tossed the gourd aside and gazed into the distance.

He had already left Black Iron Town and stood atop a ridge lashed by bitter mountain winds.

Some three or four li away, in the direction of his gaze, lay Lanyue Garden.

Lanyue Garden stood thirty li east of Linjiang Prefecture, backed by Cuiping Mountain and adjoining the mouth where the Yudai River met the Longji River.

Unfortunately, towering clusters of trees surrounded the grounds, hiding most of the garden beneath their canopies. Only glimpses of sweeping eaves, bracketed roofs, and staggered pavilions could be seen.

Only the clamor of voices carried to him on the wind, revealing how lively the vast grounds must have been.

Hong Yuan withdrew his gaze and looked beside him.

A silver-white spear stood embedded in a great blue stone, gleaming with a clear, cold radiance in the light.

Its point sank straight into the stone, yet not a single chip lay scattered around it, as though it had pierced rotten earth.

Hong Yuan reached over. As his fingers touched the shaft, he felt its fine, sanded texture.

A closer look revealed layer upon layer of undulating, cloud-shaped patterns covering the shaft.

Hong Yuan abruptly pulled. As his strength passed through it, the stone cracked with a sound like tearing cloth, and a long gash ripped across its surface.

The spear was in his hand!

Though it weighed over fifty jin, it felt weightless in Hong Yuan's grip. A casual flourish sent spear blossoms blooming one after another.

In contrast to its silver-white body, the spearhead was a deep, somber, blood-dark hue.

Perhaps it was because they had raised an unworthy son.

Although Hong Yuan had said the matter was settled.

Xu Jingren and Ou Zhenyun feared his anger had not faded, that he was merely holding it in. They had therefore neglected food and sleep, pushing the workshop's master craftsmen to work overtime. This "Life-Taking Throat-Locking Spear" had been forged several days earlier than expected.

It had taken nine days from start to finish.

Despite its early completion, the shaft bore no trace of roughness. Every inch showed signs of painstaking polishing.

Hong Yuan ran his fingers over it. The spear consisted of two sections, which could be detached into a short staff and a short spear!

The central joint used a threaded connection and a spring-loaded catch.

His fingertips swept over the middle and found a slight protrusion. He pressed gently, and with a crisp "ting," the catch instantly sank into the shaft.

Hong Yuan shifted his grip, sending a vibrating force through the weapon. Its lower half remained still while the upper half spun rapidly and suddenly separated. Just as it was about to shoot away, his other hand caught it.

Hong Yuan's understanding and development of "Spiral Force" had only taken rudimentary shape. Using it in combat was still a stretch, but it was perfectly suited to assembling and dismantling the spear, with astonishing speed.

Of course, doing this would wear it down quickly. This "treasured weapon" forged from cloud pattern iron would probably be ruined by his tinkering sooner or later.

But Hong Yuan did not much care. Using a spear was merely a transitional stage for him!

Wrapping the short staff and short spear in a piece of cloth, Hong Yuan held them in one hand and leaped off the ridge into the howling cold wind.

He bounded down the steep mountainside like a nimble ape, moving as though over level ground. Within a few breaths, he had reached the foot of the mountain.

Amid a thunderous roar, surging waves churned across the Yudai River, seven or eight zhang wide, barring his path.

Narrower stretches lay both upstream and downstream, but Hong Yuan did not slow. Racing like the wind, he sprang onto a thick tree beside the bank.

Bang!

A thick section of trunk broke away beneath the shock of Hong Yuan's palm. Another surge of palm force sent it shooting into the center of the river with a whoosh.

Hong Yuan stamped down, unleashing a mighty surge of strength that launched him from a branch three or four zhang above the ground.

In an instant, he landed on the trunk in the river.

The trunk sank sharply, river water surging over it from every side. Hong Yuan had already crouched, leaped again, and landed on the opposite bank.

His figure flickered as he raced straight toward Lanyue Garden.

Hong Yuan had not spent a moment idle during those nine days. Aside from carrying out one major deed after another in Linjiang Prefectural City, he had also come to inspect Lanyue Garden twice.

He simply had not entered on either occasion.

Originally, Hong Yuan had intended to discover Wei Zhenzhu's movements. He did not necessarily need to enter Lanyue Garden himself; he could ambush and kill her along the road when she left after the so-called "Hero Arena" ended.

But times had changed.

Back then, he had just slaughtered his way through the Huang Mansion and lacked a clear sense of his own abilities.

Now, after fighting numerous martial artists and absorbing the essence of their martial arts, his techniques, physique, and spirit had advanced by far more than a single level.

He had already littered Linjiang Prefecture with corpses. Now he merely had to kill Wei Zhenzhu. Did he, Hong Yuan, need to shy away from anyone's edge?

Would that not mean his last half month of cultivation had been wasted?

His next moves were simple.

Enter Lanyue Garden and determine where Wei Zhenzhu was.

If she had not come, keep gathering information.

If she had, kill her!

Anyone who dared stand in the way would die along with her.

The Hero Arena at Lanyue Garden had been established by more than a dozen prestigious powerful lineages of Linjiang Prefecture. Each year, its opening drew wealthy gentry, great households, and influential nobles. Martial artists gathered in throngs, experts as numerous as clouds. So what?

Was Wei Zhenzhu not from a powerful lineage herself?

Never mind her husband, the Salt and Iron Judge—Wei Zhenzhu herself belonged to the Wei Family.

And the Wei Family was one of the foremost great households in the prefectural city!

Though everyone called Wei Zhenzhu the Wei Family's disgrace, and her family even forbade her from entering the prefectural city, a great lineage could insult its own members. If an outsider killed "one of their own," would that not still be trampling on their dignity?

Hong Yuan did not even care about the Wei Family, much less anyone else.

Before long, Hong Yuan slipped through the woods like a snake, and Lanyue Garden's vast grounds appeared before him.

Meanwhile.

Lanyue Garden seethed with excitement and deafening noise.

The garden was divided into inner and outer sections. At its outermost edge, numerous pavilions and towers surrounded an expansive training ground. Seven fighting platforms had been erected within it, yet the grounds still seemed spacious.

Rows of wooden viewing booths had been built around the seven platforms, each elegantly decorated. At a glance, there appeared to be a hundred or so.

Every booth was already occupied by prominent figures from Linjiang Prefecture's twelve counties: wealthy gentry, local magnates, and regional gang leaders. Together with their guards and attendants, they numbered perhaps a thousand.

Tea and refreshments were naturally provided in the booths, along with attentive service from young maids arranged by Lanyue Garden. Should these distinguished guests take a fancy to them, they could even toy with them at will and indulge in broad daylight.

But none of them had any interest in that now. Their eyes burned as they watched the platforms on the training ground, shouting incessantly.

Martial artists faced one another on every platform.

Some were still probing their opponents. Others were already trading punches and kicks. From other platforms came the fierce clash of metal.

Suddenly, a piercing scream rang out from one platform.

A martial artist had an arm torn off. His opponent, a square-faced man with a curly beard and slightly graying temples, panted heavily. His clawlike hands clutched the severed arm, and another sweeping kick knocked his enemy off the platform.

Cheers and curses erupted all around.

"Excellent!"

"Fine martial arts! He deserves a reward!"

"Hahaha! This round earned me at least three thousand taels!"

"Useless dog! He dared call himself the 'Mountain-Splitting Hand,' yet he couldn't even beat an old man! Mountain-Splitting Hand, my ass! He should call himself the Nursemaid's Hand!"

"He can't change it. He hasn't even got a hand anymore!"

"That bastard cost me eight hundred taels!"

"Heh! You dare make a fuss over a mere eight hundred taels? Do you even deserve to sit at my table? I lost a shop in the county center!"

"What's that old man's name?"

"I think it's Yang Erhu, the master of a martial arts hall. Hasn't he won three matches already? Doesn't that qualify him for the inner arena?"

"More than that—he's won four! The inner arena... if only I could go inside and watch someday."

"Heh! Only truly important people can enter the inner arena. You couldn't even imagine the size of their wagers. With your wealth, you're nowhere near qualified to join their betting."

Within the viewing booths, the magnates—some dressed in dazzling brocade, others in understated luxury—seemed to have cast off their usual outward guises. They laughed wildly or hurled abuse, spittle flying!

His chest heaving, Yang Erhu jumped down from the platform and silently regarded his opponent, whose arm he had torn off. Blood streamed from the man, who had passed out from the pain.

This "Mountain-Splitting Hand" had been about his equal in martial arts and more than ten years younger. Yang Erhu had no room to hold back. One careless move, and he would have been the one lying on the ground.

He could not help sighing.

Then a smiling, wizened old man approached and cupped his hands. "Congratulations, congratulations! Master Yang, you truly grow more vigorous with age. You've made this old fellow see you in a new light."

Yang Erhu turned toward the skinny old man, his expression hard and cold. "Old Man Jia, where's the person I want to see?"

"Don't worry, Master Yang. We've been taking very good care of Mr. Qin." Old Man Jia remained all smiles.

Yang Erhu only wanted to punch him in the face and smash that old visage to pieces.

Old Man Jia was, of course, a subordinate of the Dragon King Society.

Not long after Hong Yuan had left the martial arts hall that day, Old Man Jia had come again. They had actually captured Master Qin and used him to force Yang Erhu to fight in the arena for the Dragon King Society.

Concerned for Master Qin, Yang Erhu had no choice but to comply.

But Yang Erhu was no rigid fool. He agreed verbally while secretly planning a rescue.

However, the Dragon King Society had once funded Yang Erhu's attack on the "Jade Wutong Immortal Realm," and they were naturally deeply wary of him. Someone watched him every moment, deepening his frustration. Together with repeated life-and-death battles that drained both mind and body, this had turned much of his once-black hair white.

"You promised I could see Master Qin after winning four matches," Yang Erhu said gravely.

"Hehe! How could matches in the outer arena demonstrate your true abilities, Master Yang? Young Master Hua has said you should enter the inner arena. This time, you only need to win one match. Not only will you see Master Qin, you'll be able to take him away!"

Old Man Jia smiled as he spoke.

Rather than feeling pleased, Yang Erhu's heart sank. After a moment of silence, he said coldly, "Let me see him first!"

Old Man Jia shook his head, his wrinkled face resolute. "You may not trust me, Master Yang, but surely you trust Young Master Hua's word? A man of his standing would hardly deceive a mere wandering martial artist like you."

Then he smirked. "Of course, if you're unhappy, you can kill this old fellow to vent your anger. I've enjoyed myself enough over the last half month. It's been worth it!"

Yang Erhu ignored him. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was much calmer. "I hope Young Master Hua keeps his promise."

"Of course I'll keep my promise. Whether Yang Erhu wins or loses, I'll send him and that friend of his on their way together."

Compared with the noisy outer grounds, the inner arena was unquestionably more refined and elegant. Four two-story towers stood around a massive fighting platform.

Bright lights illuminated the platform. Two men fought fiercely amid the candlelight, shouting as wind howled and their robes snapped. Their imposing presence, speed, and strength clearly surpassed those in the outer arena.

Each floor of the four towers held several private rooms, forty or fifty in total. Not all were occupied yet; figures moved in only twenty or so. With the curtains drawn aside, important guests sipped fine wine and leisurely watched this battle to the death.

A fair-skinned, delicate-featured young gentleman stood in one private room. Looking at the "colossal creature" seated in the place of honor, the corner of his eye twitched. Even this spacious room felt terribly cramped.

His smile was strained as well.

"In that case, Madam Wei, your anger should have subsided, shouldn't it?"

Seated in the place of honor was an enormous ball of flesh, continually stuffing food and wine into her mouth. Grease and broth splattered everywhere, making her hideous face resemble a demon beast.

It was none other than Wei Zhenzhu!

Two people attended her.

One was a tall man dressed in brilliant floral finery, obediently massaging Wei Zhenzhu to ease her breathing. He was none other than Wang Ai.

The other was a petite woman standing silently nearby, her face covered by a thick veil. Only her eyes showed, and they were distinctly cold.

The young gentleman's mouth twitched again as he looked at the heavily veiled woman, who resembled a maid.

Seeing how close she was to Wei Zhenzhu, he had originally intended to charm and seduce her, planting a spy at Wei Zhenzhu's side. But when she removed her veil, the face beneath had nearly frightened him into screaming.

"My anger subsiding? You think it's that easy? You've made me suffer so badly, and you want to brush it aside just like that?" Wei Zhenzhu finally stopped eating. Hoarse sounds came from her throat, whether laughter or labored breaths was unclear. The wounds puncturing her face had yet to heal, and remnants of food and liquid oozed out as she spoke.

The young gentleman felt an urge to vomit.

Wei Zhenzhu's husband, the Salt and Iron Judge Zhou Wenjie, had been dispatched directly by the province to investigate Linjiang Prefecture's salt, iron, and tea taxes.

Although Ming Province was tangled with competing powers, its great families and influential nobles checking one another, collecting taxes was a common goal shared by all the truly powerful figures in the provincial administration.

The young gentleman's Hua Family was a major merchant household dealing in salt, iron, and tea. Not daring to resist openly, they had joined more than a dozen other lineages to form the "Dragon King Society" and oppose Zhou Wenjie.

Later, after learning that Yang Erhu, Wu Duxiong, and others were investigating Qin Ziyue's whereabouts, the Dragon King Society had ridden the current and casually placed a piece on the board, deciding to cause Wei Zhenzhu some trouble as well.

It would have been fine had their involvement gone unnoticed. Unfortunately, some unknown slip had revealed to Wei Zhenzhu that the Dragon King Society was behind Yang Erhu and Wu Duxiong's actions.

Young Master Hua had then changed tack and simply forced Yang Erhu to fight in the Hero Arena. He had even arranged Yang Erhu's fate: a gruesome death before Wei Zhenzhu, allowing her to vent her anger.

"Then what else do you want, Madam Wei?" Young Master Hua asked stiffly. Before Wei Zhenzhu, he truly could not maintain the grace of a great lineage's scion, nor could he muster a laugh.

Greed glittered in Wei Zhenzhu's blood-red eyes. Licking her lips, she stared at Young Master Hua. "I want a share of this Lanyue Garden Hero Arena."

Young Master Hua's expression cooled. No longer bothering to smile, he said flatly, "Madam Wei, you're dreaming too much. If you haven't woken up yet, you can keep sleeping."

The Hua Family had been among the dozen or so powerful lineages that originally organized the Hero Arena, though Young Master Hua's father had managed their involvement back then.

Over the past dozen years, some of those founding lineages had been replaced, but the Hua Family had remained as immovable as Mount Tai—a testament to its formidable influence.

"You want to tear away all pretense with me?" Wei Zhenzhu demanded shrilly.

"Heh! Madam Wei, I, Hua Feiyun, am willing to apologize out of respect for the Wei Family, not because I fear you! That is all I have to say. I'll take my leave!"

Hua Feiyun turned to leave just as Old Man Jia hurried over and reported, "Young master, Captain Guo has arrived!"

Hua Feiyun perked up. "Captain Guo? Come, let's welcome him!"

Linjiang Prefecture had three military forces: the White Scale Guard, the Iron Wall Guard, and the Jintang Battalion! Each was headed by three men—a commander and left and right captains!

This Captain Guo was the Jintang Battalion's left captain, named Guo Zhen.

Naturally, he held that position because the Guo Family was one of the truly great lineages of Linjiang City.

Outside Lanyue Garden, Hong Yuan casually tossed an old man dressed as a member of the gentry into the dense woods. Taking his calling card, he strode openly toward the entrance.

In truth, although Lanyue Garden was heavily guarded, getting inside was not difficult, because too many people were coming.

Even without a calling card, anyone with sufficient wealth could enter.

Hong Yuan tossed the calling card to the guard at the entrance. The man merely glanced at it, without carefully checking whether his identity or appearance matched. He even ignored the cloth bundle in Hong Yuan's hand, which plainly contained a weapon, and respectfully welcomed him inside.

Hong Yuan had taken only a few steps when he suddenly stopped. The ground trembled as the clatter of approaching hooves rapidly drew near.

He looked back and saw a fair-skinned, long-bearded middle-aged man of average appearance riding toward him, escorted by over a hundred armored soldiers.

The man's gaze was arrogant. Plenty of carriages and riders were still waiting to enter outside Lanyue Garden, but the hundred-odd armored soldiers did not slow at all. Four riders even charged ahead, swinging their riding whips to drive people aside.

Hearing cries of "Captain Guo" from several people dressed in fine brocade, Hong Yuan frowned slightly. He glanced at the middle-aged man on horseback, then turned and walked deeper into the garden.

Whoosh!

A figure hurried over and brushed past him—a fair-skinned, delicate-featured young man.

"Hmm?!"