The Source of Ink Fragrance in a Border City: Woodblock Printing

"This must be Editor Qiu, I presume. I am Meng Bufan, sixth in my family, known as Meng Sixth. Greetings, Editor."

The young master recognized Qiu Yan at once and strode over. Yet when he stopped several yards before the horse, he halted, raised his arms in a smooth motion, composed his expression, and gave a deeply respectful bow. No one could have found the slightest flaw in his etiquette; at a glance, one could feel the respect behind it.

It was the reverence of a junior toward an elder, almost like a disciple meeting his teacher.

"You are too courteous, Young Master Meng Sixth." Qiu Yan swung down from his horse and returned the salute with cupped hands, with Yan Yongjie following right after.

Meng Bufan smiled. "Editor, you are a great worthy. You must not address me so formally. My courtesy name is Yuqi; Editor, you may call me by that." Then his gaze fell on Yan Yongjie, and he praised, "What a stalwart man of Yan! One need only look to know you are no ordinary man. May I ask how you are addressed?"

"I am Yan Yongjie, a man without fame, not worth mentioning." Yan Yongjie replied with clasped fists. Though he had some renown in Yan, he did not think anyone in the land of Three Jin would know him.

"So you are the Northern Lands Blade King!" Meng Bufan's expression turned solemn with respect. "I had long heard of the Blade King's chivalrous deed of charging alone into a bandit stronghold. To meet you today is truly the fortune of three lifetimes."

Yan Yongjie could not help being surprised. "I never expected Young Master Meng Sixth to have heard this one's nickname. I am ashamed. Yan could never bear the name of chivalry."

"You