The tiger leapt

Dust billowed as a column of a hundred riders galloped over.

The riders all wore excellent armor, their eyes keen and their bearing fierce, steel sabers at their waists. Their imposing presence cowed everyone as they drove away the carriages and horses blocking the entrance to Lanyue Garden.

Flanked by armored soldiers, Captain Guo Zhen looked like a middle-aged scholar in his thirties or forties. Dressed in loose everyday robes, he swept an indifferent gaze over the crowd.

Everyone his eyes passed over, whether wealthy clansmen or gang members, averted their gaze and bowed respectfully.

Hua Feiyun hurried out through the gate and bowed deeply before his horse. "Your junior, Hua Feiyun, pays his respects to Captain Guo."

Seated high on horseback, Guo Zhen looked Hua Feiyun over and laughed. "A youngster of the Hua Family, are you? No need for formalities. Our families are old friends. Just call me Uncle."

Delight crossed Hua Feiyun's face, and he readily obliged. "Uncle Guo!"

"Good!" Guo Zhen leapt down from his horse, stepped forward, and took Hua Feiyun's hand as they headed inside together. "Have the inner arena matches begun?"

"There have already been several bouts, but they were only minor scuffles. We were waiting for you to arrive before bringing out the real experts."

Hong Yuan walked forward at an unhurried pace.

Even without deliberately eavesdropping, his extraordinary hearing caught their conversation.

Hua Feiyun was Young Master Hua of the Dragon King Society, whom he had encountered at the Yang Family Martial Arts Hall during that torrential downpour.

And Captain Guo reminded Hong Yuan of the labels on the pill bottles in Huang Yihe's study at Guiling Manor.

He had not expected to encounter them here.

Setting certain thoughts aside for the moment, Hong Yuan followed several men and women in loose brocade robes who chatted and laughed along the way. Passing through courtyards, he soon reached an enormous training ground.

Voices roared, and heads crowded the viewing pavilions. The atmosphere was feverish.

At a glance, Hong Yuan saw nothing but densely packed figures, as though most of the powerful families from Linjiang Prefecture's dozen-odd counties had gathered here.

Hong Yuan breathed a sigh of relief.

Finding a particular person among so many people would have been a real challenge for him. Fortunately, he had come looking for a pig.

That made things much simpler.

Since he was already here, there was no need to rush this very instant.

Hong Yuan decided to have a little fun. After watching from outside the arena for a while, he understood the rules. He waved over several maids, pointed at a saber fighter with a tattoo on his left cheek in the central ring, and placed a hefty wager of three thousand taels.

For no other reason than that, judging by his stance alone, this tattooed saber fighter was far better than the other crooked melons and cracked dates.

Well, that was purely Hong Yuan's own impression.

An uproar filled the surroundings.

Angry curses mingled with laughter. Some rings still saw fierce fighting and splashing blood, while others had already decided their victors.

A bronze gong rang out with a clang.

A burly man built like an iron tower stepped into the central ring. Grinning viciously, he too drew a saber and faced the tattooed fighter.

The fight began swiftly, successive clashes of metal bursting out.

Hong Yuan's expression grew darker and darker as he watched, until the towering brute hacked apart the steel saber in the tattooed fighter's hand, spun, and kicked him square in the chest. The tattooed fighter crashed heavily out of the ring, his fate unknown!

Hong Yuan's face had sunk completely.

Fucking hell. What a crooked racket. They were fixing matches.

A delighted laugh rang out nearby, accompanied by clapping and cheers. "Good! A beautiful win!"

A short, plump middle-aged man dressed in splendid robes and a jade crown, looking every inch a merchant, stood surrounded by guards. Taking the fine wine a beautiful maid offered him, he raised it toward a long-faced man in the neighboring pavilion. "Zhao Liu, don't forget—you owe me five hundred salt permits and three grain barges."

Zhao Liu snorted coldly, refusing to look at the smug face of the short, plump man.

A large crowd of wealthy gamblers who had backed the tattooed saber fighter were sighing as well.

Hong Yuan stopped one of them and glanced toward the short, plump man. "Who is that?"

"The Canal Gang has six chiefs, and he ranks third. You don't even know Third Master Jin?" The wealthy gambler Hong Yuan had stopped was beaming, evidently another winner of this match. He rolled his eyes at Hong Yuan, seemingly mocking his ignorance.

"Heh. Third Master Jin, eh?"

Hong Yuan naturally knew of the Canal Gang.

The two gangs he had personally buried, the Longjiang Gang and the Long River Society, had ranked among the largest in Linjiang Prefectural City. Yet in scale and influence, they were not even worthy of carrying the Canal Gang's shoes.

The Canal Gang's influence spread across more than a dozen counties, and at least a hundred or two hundred thousand people in Linjiang Prefecture depended on it for their livelihood.

A force that large, controlling vital land and water routes and possessing abundant resources, could easily arm several thousand fighting-age men. That alone would shake Linjiang Prefecture.

Hong Yuan did not care about any of that.

However great a force was, if it could not surround him, it was only an empty shell. All he knew was that Third Master Jin had swindled him out of his money.

He did not blame the tattooed saber fighter. The man was already at death's door, fixing a match at the cost of his life. But Third Master Jin had swallowed his money, and he would have to spit it back out.

Third Master Jin stretched comfortably and told those beside him, "We've had enough fun outside. Let's go to the inner arena."

The inner courtyard.

Surrounded by four buildings, an enormous fighting ring shone brightly beneath the lamps.

Yang Erhu slowly stepped into the ring, the gray at his temples all the more conspicuous. Ignoring the gazes from the private rooms, he closed his eyes and gathered his focus, waiting for his next opponent.

In one private room, Guo Zhen sat languidly, with four armored guards standing on either side. Hua Feiyun attended him, smiling. "This man runs a martial arts hall. He once reached the receive-and-release-at-will level, but now he's old and his skills have declined. His experience is still considerable, though, so he's just right for warming up the crowd..."

As he spoke, Hua Feiyun took out a list and presented it to Guo Zhen. "This is the roster for this year's inner arena. The three most outstanding are 'Iron Chain Across the River' Zhao Heng, 'Heart-Piercing Sword' Lin Xiu, and a man called Smiling Buddha. They're already waiting in the rooms below."

Guo Zhen gave the list a casual glance. "Once one or two survive, we can take them in as our hounds and horses. That's all people of their sort are good for."

Then he looked at Hua Feiyun again. "I hear you recruited an arena champion with nine consecutive victories, Nephew Hua?"

Hua Feiyun smiled. "His name is He Xiaofeng, and he's skilled with a curved saber. It was only six wins in the outer courtyard and three in the inner courtyard."

Guo Zhen nodded. "Not bad either."

In another private room, Wei Zhenzhu glared savagely at Yang Erhu's back, as though she wanted to rush down and swallow him whole. Venom filled her voice. "Only this old bastard? What about that White Scale Guard deserter, the brat surnamed Hong? You didn't catch him?"

As for Yang Lie, Wei Zhenzhu had overlooked him entirely.

Wang Ai remained silent, while hatred filled the eyes of the maid wearing a thick veil.

Clang!

Amid the sound of gongs and drums, someone leapt into the ring—an ugly man with broad, heavily callused hands.

"Wait!" Yang Erhu suddenly called out, raising his voice toward the surrounding buildings. "Young Master Hua, I want a saber for this match."

On the second floor opposite Yang Erhu, Hua Feiyun was still in Guo Zhen's private room. Hearing this, he stepped onto the terrace and smiled. "Certainly. You shall have one!"

Then he asked the ugly man, "What weapon do you want?"

The ugly man grinned, revealing a mouthful of sharp teeth. "No need. I trust only my own hands!"

Clearly, the ugly man had tremendous confidence in his hand techniques.

Hua Feiyun clapped, and soon Yang Erhu had a saber in hand. Stroking its cold edge, he stared icily at the ugly man. "Come!"

The next instant, both men lunged, striking almost simultaneously.

Yang Erhu attacked with his saber, its passage howling through the air as biting cold light enveloped his opponent. Unexpectedly, the ugly man neither dodged nor evaded. Amid startled murmurs from several private rooms, he met the blade with his bare wrists.

Clang!

Metal rang against metal. The ugly man's sleeves tore, revealing pairs of iron rings around his wrists. They abruptly tightened, forming what looked like a layer of iron armor. Grinning viciously, he forced his way through the saber's light and punched at Yang Erhu's chest.

Startled but composed, Yang Erhu flipped as the fist hurtled toward his chest, passing over his opponent's head while sweeping his saber backward.

The ugly man was astonishingly quick as well. He turned and blocked with his wrist, producing another explosive metallic clash. Yang Erhu landed on the ring's railing and suddenly stamped down.

As the railing shattered inch by inch beneath his feet, he twisted and leapt, hurtling straight toward Hua Feiyun on the second-floor terrace.

He had grown old and weak, like a fierce tiger nearing the twilight of its life. Yet at this moment, he seemed to come alive again, a surging torrent of strength suddenly rising within him!

It was rage!

Yang Erhu was no fool. From the moment Old Man Jia had come to his door and threatened him with Master Qin's severed finger, he had understood that Master Qin was more likely dead than alive.

Still, he had clung to the faintest hope. Only after hearing Old Man Jia's earlier words had he finally abandoned it.

He even understood that Master Qin had probably died long ago, and that they plainly had no intention of letting him leave alive either.

His suppressed fury suddenly erupted, force surging through him. More than twenty feet separated Yang Erhu from Hua Feiyun's terrace, and he had to leap upward as well.

Even in his prime, he might not have made that leap. Mustering a burst of true force, he was like an aging, ferocious tiger springing toward a cliff across an abyss.

Yet he fell just short. As his body began to drop, he reached out and pressed a palm against the terrace's edge, propelling himself upward once more.

Whoosh!

Bearing a vicious gust, he reached the terrace and pounced on Hua Feiyun. It had all happened in the blink of an eye. Only now did Yang Erhu roar, "Hua, I'll have your life!"

Before Hua Feiyun's astonished eyes, the saber's light flashed toward him. Just then, a cold snort sounded, and a curved saber thrust in from the side. It struck Yang Erhu's steel saber and forced him stumbling backward.

Yang Erhu's eyes nearly split with fury. Without looking at the expert who had suddenly appeared, he staggered back. He had unleashed everything in one burst, and his strength was almost spent. Just before he hit the railing, he mustered his last scrap of power and hurled his steel saber.

Whoosh!

The long blade shot out like an arrow, driving toward Hua Feiyun's chest.

The next instant, with a smack, Hua Feiyun effortlessly caught the steel saber. He looked mockingly at Yang Erhu, who slowly crumpled, his eyes wide with rage.

"Are you unharmed, Nephew Hua?" Guo Zhen's leisurely voice came from the private room.

The curtains of these rooms were all drawn back, so he had naturally seen what happened. Yet he had not moved at all, remaining lazily seated as he drank. The eight armored soldiers beside him had not stirred either.

Sounds rose from the private rooms in the surrounding buildings, followed by interested gazes, as though everyone had just enjoyed a particularly inventive performance.

"I'm unharmed. Thank you for your concern, Uncle." Hua Feiyun smiled.

The thin man who had blocked Yang Erhu's attack with a curved saber was none other than He Xiaofeng. Standing respectfully beside Hua Feiyun, he lowered his head. "Young Master, I'm sorry you were frightened."

Hua Feiyun waved a hand, then looked at Yang Erhu and said leisurely, "What? Are you so surprised that I know martial arts?"

"He disturbed you, Young Master. Let me kill him!" He Xiaofeng said.

"Kill him? Must everything always be fighting and killing? Take him down below. Once the Hero Arena is over, we can deal with him properly." Hua Feiyun smiled.

He Xiaofeng was about to obey when a roaring voice rang out. "Give him to me! I'll chop him into mince and swallow him mouthful by mouthful! Xiao Chan, bring him over."

The voice made many of the distinguished guests in the surrounding buildings frown, though they said little. Their reaction was better described as disgust.

For the speaker was none other than Wei Zhenzhu.

Given Wei Zhenzhu's enormous bulk, she naturally occupied a downstairs private room. As soon as she finished speaking, the woman in the thick veil vaulted up onto the building.

The corner of Hua Feiyun's eye twitched. "Since Madam Wei has spoken... hmm?"

He saw Yang Erhu slumped on the floor, eyes wide and mouth agape in astonishment, and smiled again. "Wondering why Madam Wei is here? Or why I know her?"

"No! He's wondering why I'm here."

A calm voice suddenly sounded beside Hua Feiyun's ear. His hair stood on end, and he instinctively turned in alarm.

A palm abruptly pressed against the back of his head. Hua Feiyun felt an immense force surge through him. Like a baby caught in a giant's hand, he could not resist as his head was driven into the floor!

With a resounding crash, his head sank into the wooden floorboards. Sharp splinters pierced his face, making him scream in pain.

"Young Master!" He Xiaofeng was no less shocked.

He had been standing right beside Hua Feiyun, yet despite his martial skill, he had failed to notice someone slipping behind them. Had the intruder wanted his life, how could he still be alive?

Shock and terror seized him. But seeing Hua Feiyun slammed down by a single palm, he involuntarily swung his curved saber straight at the attacker's head.

The attacker was naturally Hong Yuan.

He had slipped in quietly behind Third Master Jin and originally intended to investigate first. But suddenly hearing Yang Erhu's voice, he had immediately unleashed his movement technique and rushed over.

With his current martial skill, the speed of his movements truly surpassed what ordinary people could follow.

A sharp wind whistled behind him. Hong Yuan turned the cloth bundle in his hand, and amid a metallic clash, the refined steel staff wrapped inside blocked the descending curved saber. Then he darted forward, his other hand already clamping around He Xiaofeng's saber hand!

He Xiaofeng saw those indifferent eyes. His heart jolted, and he blurted, "It's you?!"

He recognized him as the black-robed saber fighter who had killed Yan San at the docks. That recognition only deepened his horror.

Back at the docks, although this man had blocked one of his strikes with a bamboo hat, He Xiaofeng had not believed he could truly defeat him. How little time had passed since then?

The thought had barely arisen when his hand was seized and involuntarily swept backward. The curved saber instantly slit his own throat.

"Young Master Hong, Xiao Chan has missed you so terribly!" The veiled woman's eyes had reddened the moment Hong Yuan appeared, and she lunged straight at him.

Although Hong Yuan's bearing had changed completely, she still recognized him at a glance. Boundless hatred filled her eyes, and she even forgot her fear.

Where did this roadblock come from?

Hong Yuan casually turned the long cloth bundle in his hand and swept it across.

Bang!

The blow sent the veiled woman flying. She crashed headfirst into the ring below, her brains bursting out, and never made another sound.

Her veil fell away, revealing a deeply pitted face.

Shock swept through the buildings. Now the distinguished guests in the private rooms abandoned all pretense of composure, crying out repeatedly. More than a dozen figures sprang out first—the martial artists participating in the inner arena matches.

Shing! Shing!

"Protect the captain!"

From the private room behind him came a flurry of sabers being drawn.