The Yang Clan of Jizhou

Yang Xuan readily agreed to Du Chengfeng's request.

This might provoke resistance from the clan, and Yang Xuan had already prepared himself for it. After all, showing such courtesy to an outsider—an outsider who even bore a grudge against the Yang Clan—was indeed rather inconceivable. It might even make people wonder whether Yang Xuan had gone mad.

But Yang Xuan himself knew that all of it was worth it.

Those capable of wielding the Sha Qi of weapons were no ordinary people. Everyone who could do so possessed a will as unyielding as iron. Even if such people could not achieve fame and success or roam the world unhindered, they were still far beyond what a tiny Yang Family Fort could afford to provoke. And now, not only had the man named Du Chengfeng not come looking for trouble with the Yang Clan, he had even asked the Yang Clan to help him with something.

That was an answer that put Yang Xuan far more at ease than any smile that buried old grudges. After all, ties of mutual benefit made for the most stable cooperation. Since the other party now had need of the Yang Clan, did that not mean the Yang Clan had already weathered this calamity?

"So, do you understand now? For our Yang Clan, this is instead an opportunity."

Within the Yang Clan ancestral hall, Yang Xuan sat upright and proper, painstakingly explaining his thoughts to the clan's younger generation before him.

"If we can persuade this strong warrior to stay—stay here in Yang Family Fort—then first of all, our fort's safety will be sufficiently assured. Besides, Jizhou lies close to the northern desert and is a land fought over from all sides. The people here are fierce by nature, and who knew how many heroes spent their days fighting and killing... Do you understand what I mean?"

"This..."

Hearing Yang Xuan bring this up, the Yang Clan members gathered in the ancestral hall could not help sitting straighter.

They knew of those heroes who fought and killed. Strictly speaking, Yang Sanlang of their own clan could be counted as one of them. But unlike Yang Sanlang, who was a local, some heroes had no roots to speak of. Relying on their martial skill and the blades and weapons in their hands, they drifted from place to place committing crimes, scraping out a living in this chaotic age.

The reason they were called roaming criminals was naturally because Great Chen strictly prohibited private fights. If people truly wanted to find some deserted place and clash with a clang and a bang, no one could really stop them. But if word got out, or if passing civilians reported the corpses, the Catchers responsible for maintaining public order would still take action.

And that meant it was difficult for the vicious weapons in those heroes' hands to find someone willing to polish them.

After all, most polishing craftsmen belonged to the imperial court. Some served in the army, responsible for polishing soldiers' weapons. Others worked alongside the Catchers, removing Sha Qi from the Catchers' weapons on one hand, while on the other examining the murder weapons involved in homicide cases. Naturally, wandering heroes who had killed people could not seek out either of these groups. That would be like a sheep walking into a tiger's jaws, conveniently letting the other side kill them for merit.

Though a small number of craftsmen capable of polishing weapons had drifted among the common folk, they were not people those wandering criminal heroes could afford to hire. Just as Yang Xuan had said earlier, those capable of wielding the Sha Qi of weapons all possessed wills as unyielding as iron. With such a steadfast will that would not bend despite a hundred setbacks, whatever path they chose to pursue, they could naturally build an achievement of their own.

Put bluntly, everyone had their own business to attend to. If you were an old friend or relative, that was one thing—but if you were a stranger, why should anyone spend their time and energy polishing the blade of some so-called wandering hero?

Of course, it was not impossible that someone genuinely treated blade-polishing as a hobby, or was simply so idle they had nothing better to do. But such people were either exceedingly difficult to find or charged exorbitant prices. Even so, those wandering heroes still flocked to them like ducks to water, willing to pay enormous prices to have these craftsmen fully restore their blades and swords.

After all, to many martial artists, a familiar blade or sword carried at their side was already something comparable to their own limbs, their closest kin.

And now, Yang Family Fort had such a polishing craftsman—one capable of wielding the Sha Qi of weapons, yet unaffiliated with the imperial court.

Moreover, he was quite willing to polish weapons.

"I heard something a few days ago."

At that moment, a young Yang Clan member recalled something and spoke up.

"A few days ago, that famous swordsman from our Jizhou—the one called Swiftblade Liu Qingyun—went all the way south to Yanzhou to find a reclusive old master to polish his blade. Everyone knows that sword of his. It was forged by a blacksmith in Ji Town, and the fuel costs and labor together came to one thousand coins—one string of cash. But do you know how much he spent to have it polished?"

At this point, the Yang Clan member paused.

"Five hundred strings of cash. They say that was only because the old master pitied him and gave him a cheap price."

"Hiss..."

The other Yang Clan members could not help drawing in sharp breaths. Even the elderly Yang Xuan nearly tore out his beard.

They had all heard some things like this before. Everyone knew that martial artists placed great importance on their weapons. But spending five hundred strings of cash to polish a blade worth only one string of cash—was that not a little too...

Should it be called extravagance? Or wastefulness?

"Perhaps that blade was as important to him as our Yang Clan's ancestral treasured blade is to us."

Yang Xuan sighed, barely managing to understand the matter.

But that was not what the other Yang Clan members were focused on.

They subconsciously looked toward that dilapidated little courtyard, as though they had glimpsed a palace forged from gold.

Even if they did not act as intermediaries and take a cut, as long as they spread word of this, once the crowds came pouring in, Yang Family Fort would still make a fortune beyond measure!

"Clan Uncle is right! We should make him stay! We should worship him like an ancestor!"

No one knew which Yang Clan member shouted first, but soon more and more of them nodded in fervent agreement.

At that moment, they felt they had finally understood Yang Xuan's wisdom. Truly, having an elder at home was like having a treasure. It was only because this Clan Uncle had endured humiliation and borne heavy burdens time and again that he had opened a broad, golden road for the Yang Clan of Jizhou.

But just then, an opposing voice suddenly rang out.

"No! Absolutely not!"

Yang Sanlang, dragging his heavily wounded body, appeared at the entrance to the ancestral hall.

"Our Yang Clan's ancestral treasured blade is still in his hands! That is the greatest humiliation of our Yang Clan! How can you..."

"An ancestral treasured blade is such a precious thing that it should belong to one of virtue!"

Upon hearing Yang Sanlang's words, a young Yang Clan member immediately rose to his feet.

"Since the blade has fallen into that strong warrior's hands, it proves that he is one of virtue. That blade should be his. What are you shouting about here?"

"I..."

Yang Sanlang still wanted to say something, but several Yang Clan members guarding the entrance carried him away and shut him back in his bedroom, calling it recuperation.

The remaining Yang Clan members, meanwhile, excitedly began discussing matters among themselves.

The ancestral treasured blade being in an outsider's hands was no small matter, but they were already prepared to worship that man as an ancestor. By that logic, they could count it as worshipping that treasured blade as well. So long as they could make that man remain in Yang Family Fort, there was really no difference. If worst came to worst, they could just consider the clan ancestral hall to have changed locations. It was not something they could not accept.

Besides, just as someone had said earlier, if the blade were truly returned to them, could they even lift it?

It was better to preserve the current situation. At least the ancestral treasured blade had now truly become a force protecting Yang Family Fort, rather than, as before, merely being enshrined upon a rack.

"If you can think this way, then that could not be better."

As he spoke, Yang Xuan could not help looking in the direction Yang Sanlang had been dragged away, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh.

But Yang Xuan quickly composed himself again, his expression turning solemn.

"Since everyone understands, then get moving."

Thanks to Cloth Who Cuts Stones for the monthly ticket, and thank you all for your support. A new author with a new book—please bookmark and recommend it. Thank you, everyone.