Establishing Authority

[Fortune from Huang Xiao +588.]

Ignoring the system notification that sounded in his mind, Yu Huatian calmly slipped Ding Xiu's miaodao back into the scabbard in his hand, then took a silk handkerchief from his robes and wiped his hands, as though he had done something utterly trivial.

"You..."

The bearded man's expression went blank. He stared incredulously at Yu Huatian and raised a hand to point at him, wanting to say something. But the moment he opened his mouth, before he could utter a word, a line of blood suddenly opened across his throat. Scarlet blood gushed out, and his body toppled backward.

Thud!

As the man hit the floor, an uproar instantly erupted.

Everyone in the hall sprang to their feet, staring in disbelief at the white-robed figure by the entrance.

Almost all of them belonged to major martial sects renowned throughout their respective regions. They had no objection to the bearded man driving away other latecomers seeking entry to the inn.

After all, the weak were prey to the strong. That was the martial world's law of survival.

If you were strong enough, you could likewise drive others out of the inn and take their places.

Similar incidents had certainly occurred over the past few days.

Indeed, many of them had acquired their rooms from the guests who had arrived before them, sometimes through decidedly dishonorable strong-arm tactics.

Yet despite all their years in the martial world, they had never encountered anyone so ruthless and decisive. The bearded man had merely hurled a couple of insults, without even intending to kill anyone, only to have this young man slit his throat with a single stroke.

Such behavior was practically no different from that of the demonic sects!

But even if you were powerful or had someone backing you, was anyone staying in this inn now a simple character?

Instinctively, everyone turned in unison toward the men who had been sitting with the bearded man, waiting to see how they would respond.

Clatter!

Under everyone's scrutiny, the men who had shared a table with the bearded Huang Xiao could hold back no longer. They grabbed their weapons and rose.

However shaken and uncertain they were, they had to step forward now. A subordinate had been killed. If they still did not dare act, how could their Money Gang ever show its face in the martial world again?

"Who are you? You dare kill a member of the Money Gang? Give us your name!"

The man leading them wore green and held a broad saber. He shouted fiercely at Yu Huatian, but still did not attack immediately.

Yu Huatian's stunning stroke that had killed Huang Xiao had deeply intimidated him. He was no fool and naturally knew whom he could afford to provoke. Pride forced him to step forward, but he only dared invoke his gang's name, fierce on the outside and fearful within.

And he was not alone. Very few people in the inn had clearly seen Yu Huatian's stroke, and fewer still were confident they could withstand it.

Under everyone's gaze, Yu Huatian ignored the handful of lackeys before him. He looked straight past them at the six men who had yet to rise.

More precisely, he looked at the man seated in the corner among those six, wearing a golden-yellow robe, with three scars on his face.

The man looked only about thirty. His fingers were long and slender, with prominent bones-the unmistakable hands of someone who had spent years wielding a sword.

Yu Huatian's gaze lowered. Sure enough, a sword was tucked into the right side of the man's belt, its hilt pointing left.

Left-handed sword. Jing Wuming.

Yu Huatian narrowed his eyes, having deduced the golden-robed man's identity.

Jing Wuming, the foremost enforcer under the Money Gang's Shangguan Jinhong!

Since Jing Wuming was here, the identities of the five men sharing his table were easy enough to guess.

Adamantine Iron Crutch, Zhuge Gang!

Wind and Rain in Motion, Xiang Song!

Judge's Brush, Gao Xingkong!

Flying Spear, Yan Shuangfei!

Poison Mantis, Tang Du!

The Money Gang's five great Innate experts-all masters listed in the Weapons Ranking.

Compared with the small fry before him, these six were the true powers of the Money Gang.

Since the men who mattered had not stepped forward, Yu Huatian had no intention of bothering with these lackeys. He glanced at the saber-wielding man, whose fierce manner concealed his fear, and said flatly, "If you don't want to die, step aside. Or get outside and give up your places."

"You..."

The man's expression shifted. His companions' faces alternated between livid and pale as they kept turning toward Jing Wuming and the other five.

The expressions of the other guests also grew peculiar. They had not expected this white-robed youth to show the Money Gang no respect whatsoever, even after its members had announced their affiliation.

Was he truly unafraid of the Money Gang, fearless out of ignorance, or merely pretending to be calm?

Crash!

Just then, the burly Zhuge Gang, beside whom stood a dark-gold iron crutch, slammed his wine bowl onto the floor. He seized his Adamantine Iron Crutch and looked coldly at Yu Huatian.

"Whatever your background, you've killed a member of the Money Gang. You owe us an accounting before our fellow martial artists!"

Everyone perked up. One of the men who mattered had finally stepped forward!

Yu Huatian remained calm. "What sort of accounting do you want?"

"Survive one blow from my crutch, and I'll acknowledge your right to enter this inn. I'll make those useless fools give you their rooms!"

Without waiting for Yu Huatian's reply, Zhuge Gang moved. Seemingly slow but actually swift, he appeared before Yu Huatian in an instant and brought his iron crutch crashing down, fully unleashing the might of his peak Innate cultivation.

Several people cried out in alarm.

Zhuge Gang, the Adamantine Iron Crutch, was the Money Gang's third-ranking figure and eighth on the Weapons Ranking. His strength was second only to the Cold-Blooded Swordsman, Jing Wuming. Over the years, he had killed countless people for the gang, and innumerable experts had died beneath his iron crutch. Yet few had witnessed him fight.

Seeing him now, they knew his reputation was well deserved!

Everyone's gaze shifted to the white-robed youth, eager to see whether he could withstand Zhuge Gang's blow.

But to their surprise, the youth still showed no intention of acting in the face of that ferocious iron crutch. Instead, the ponytailed saber fighter beside him drew his blade again.

Shing!

They saw a flash of saber light sweep through the hall as the ponytailed fighter's long blade left its scabbard, trailing a crescent of cold radiance.

Its piercing cry sent a chill through everyone's hearts and made their hair stand on end.

Zhuge Gang's expression shifted too. But a man listed in the Weapons Ranking was no mediocrity. His gaze sharpened, and rather than dodge, he increased the ferocity of his blow, clearly intending to meet force with force.

Clang!

Saber and crutch collided. The sharp ringing shook the hall, and an invisible shock wave spread outward from the two men. It stung the faces of several onlookers, leaving them deeply shaken.

The next moment, both men retreated several steps.

After that brief exchange, caution entered Ding Xiu's eyes. He gripped his saber with both hands and angled the blade, fighting spirit surging from his heart.

"Japanese Swordsmanship-a successor to the Qi Family Saber?"

Zhuge Gang frowned deeply. He glanced at the battle-hungry Ding Xiu, then turned toward Yu Huatian and asked gravely, "Just who are you people?!"

"Enough. Let them have the rooms."

Jing Wuming, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. He raised his head and looked at Yu Huatian, his expression cold.

Only then did everyone notice that his eyes were ash gray, seemingly devoid of emotion or life, filled with deathly stillness.

Many could not help shivering inwardly. What kind of eyes were those?!

Zhuge Gang already knew everything about Jing Wuming and had long since grown accustomed to it. At his words, however, he knitted his brows and looked at him in confusion. "We're just letting this go?"

Jing Wuming did not answer. His ash-gray eyes remained fixed on Yu Huatian, filled with indifference toward life. Yet his equally long, bony right hand unconsciously settled on the sword hilt at his waist. Clearly, he sensed a threat from Yu Huatian.

Neither side spoke. Yu Huatian quietly regarded the Money Gang's foremost killer, and an oppressively heavy atmosphere spread through the inn.

"Ah, honored guests! There's no harm in martial artists exchanging a few moves. Don't spoil your friendship over a little matter!"

At last, the innkeeper could stand it no longer and steeled himself to intervene. "How about this? I've just remembered there's another empty room upstairs. We don't normally rent it out, but since we're short of rooms, I'll clear it out for these guests. Please do me this small favor. If you keep fighting and killing like this, how am I supposed to run my business?"

Yu Huatian did not make things difficult for him. He swept his gaze around the inn, committing everyone's appearance to memory, then started upstairs. "Let's go."

The innkeeper immediately breathed a sigh of relief and hurried ahead to show the way.

The tension eased at once, and several people began talking in hushed voices.

Seeing there was no more excitement to watch, the people outside shook their heads and dispersed in disappointment.

The Money Gang members stared after Yu Huatian and his two companions, their eyes brimming with hostility. Only after the three vanished completely up the stairs did Zhuge Gang look away. Turning to Jing Wuming, he asked quietly, "Even you aren't confident you can beat him?"

He knew Jing Wuming's temperament perfectly well. In this man's eyes, there were only the dead and the living. Even within the Money Gang, he obeyed only the gang leader and gave no one else any consideration.

Unless he had reservations, he would never have sat by while the Money Gang suffered humiliation.

Jing Wuming's voice was cold. "His swordsmanship is very strong!"

"Swordsmanship?"

Zhuge Gang looked puzzled. "Didn't he just use that Qi Family Saber successor's miaodao?"

Jing Wuming said nothing, but a flicker of burning intensity passed through his eyes.

Although the white-robed youth had used a saber to kill Huang Xiao, Jing Wuming was a swordsman himself and was absolutely certain that the youth had employed a sword technique.

And his swordsmanship was formidable!

The white-robed youth had delivered only one strike, but at their level, a single strike was enough to tell whether someone was a swordsman and how strong his swordsmanship was.

As a fellow swordsman, Jing Wuming had badly wanted to test whose swordsmanship was superior at that moment-the youth's or his own.

But the treasure had yet to emerge, and many people had their eyes on it. This was not the time to act.

Still, he had a premonition that sooner or later, he and that white-robed youth would fight!

It was a swordsman's intuition.

Jing Wuming took a long look at the stairway where the three had disappeared, then sat back down, raised his wine bowl, and drank, paying no further attention to anything else.

In his heart, only three things could arouse his interest.

Swords, killing, and Shangguan Jinhong's orders...

Nearby, several Money Gang members were already removing Huang Xiao's corpse and cleaning the blood from the floor. None of them looked happy.

They had intended to establish the Money Gang's prestige, only to lose face all the way to their grandmother's doorstep. It was all that idiot Huang Xiao's fault, acting without first sounding out his opponent's depth.

Resentment filled their hearts. They dared not question Jing Wuming's orders, so they could only pin all the blame on Huang Xiao.

The inn regained its earlier bustle, but the atmosphere had become considerably stranger.

The guests kept glancing toward the Money Gang members in the corner, then looking upstairs, most wearing grave expressions.

At a table near the stairs sat another white-robed youth, handsome and refined. Sharing his table were four men with peculiar, even ugly features, forming a stark contrast with him.

This odd group of five would have attracted attention anywhere. Yet the inn's other guests had long since ceased to find them strange, evidently already knowing who they were.

These five were Murong Fu of Gusu, who had come from the neighboring Great Song dynasty, and his four retainers: Deng Baichuan, Gongye Qian, Bao Butong, and Feng Bo'e.

Murong Fu looked upward, listening to the faint sounds from upstairs and the innkeeper's voice, his expression thoughtful.

"Japanese Swordsmanship originated with Qi Jiguang, Ming's hero against the Japanese pirates, and is mostly used by Ming's border troops. I wonder whether these men have any connection to the Ming court..."

Hearing this, Deng Baichuan asked quietly, "Do you wish to befriend them, young master?"

Murong Fu nodded. He glanced at the figures in the inn, who could almost be said to represent half of Ming's martial world, and sighed softly. "Apart from the Money Gang, these people all claim to have come to oppose the Demonic Cult. But only they know what they're truly thinking."

"Many people have their eyes on the treasure. We're outsiders to begin with. Obtaining it through our own strength alone will be very difficult."

The four immediately understood his meaning.

Bao Butong said, "Young master, I'll go see them tonight and ask whether they're willing to join us in seizing the treasure!"

Murong Fu glanced at him and shook his head. "Never mind. You offend people too easily when you speak. I'd better go myself."

Bao Butong flushed red. "Have you misunderstood something about me, young master? When have I ever offended anyone?"

The corner of Murong Fu's mouth twitched. He shook his head and did not continue.

"Let's eat first. Don't attract anyone's attention."

"Honored guests, everything in here has been freshly replaced. The room is a little small, but it's quiet. Please bear with it and stay here for now. Do me this small favor and don't quarrel with those men again. They're from the Money Gang, and they're not people to provoke."

Led by the innkeeper, Yu Huatian and his two companions reached a room on the western side of the second floor. Perhaps worried they would cause further trouble, the innkeeper continued earnestly urging them to keep the peace before he left.

Yu Huatian said evenly, "Don't worry, innkeeper. As long as no one provokes us, we won't make things difficult for you."

"Ah! Good, good!"

The innkeeper brightened. "Running this little business isn't easy. Thank you for your understanding, young master. Don't worry, I'll do my best to persuade them not to trouble you. After all, I know you've all come for the treasure. If you start fighting before it even emerges, won't you just hand everyone else the advantage? It's not worth it."

Yu Huatian's eyes flickered as he regarded the innkeeper, who looked ordinary but clearly possessed martial skills. "You know about the treasure too?"

"So many people have come these past few days, every one of them asking about it. I couldn't remain ignorant even if I wanted to!"

The innkeeper gave a bitter smile.

Yu Huatian nodded slightly. "May I ask your surname?"

"My surname is Chai. Just call me Old Chai, young master."

"Old Chai?"

Yu Huatian narrowed his eyes as a flash of insight crossed his mind.

At last, he remembered what he had overlooked earlier.

In the original story, the treasure of the Great White Upper Kingdom had been discovered jointly by several martial artists and a group of Tatars.

And this Old Chai seemed to be one of their companions, lurking in the Dragon Gate Inn with his sights likewise set on the Great White Upper Kingdom's treasure.

But logically, if they wanted to obtain the treasure, they would not have let the whole world hear about it. Doing so would only force greater difficulties upon themselves.

Who, then, had leaked the news of the treasure?

Yu Huatian frowned in thought.

Just then, Old Chai continued, "Young master, if there's nothing else, I'll head downstairs to attend to the guests. If you need anything, just let me know."

Yu Huatian gave him a long look and nodded. "Sorry for the trouble."

"Not at all, not at all."

With that, Old Chai turned and headed downstairs.

Yu Huatian watched him leave without speaking.

Seeing this, Zhao Tong asked softly, "Director, is there something wrong with that man?"

"No."

Yu Huatian withdrew his gaze and shook his head. Although he knew Old Chai was no ordinary man, news of the treasure had already spread and drawn so many martial artists here. Old Chai's little band and those few Tatars could hardly stir up any waves.

The reason he had taken notice of them was that he suddenly remembered someone among those martial artists who sold intelligence about the martial world and looked very much like him.

Indeed, in the original story, that man's impersonation of him and scheming against the West Depot had caused his plans to fail, ultimately leaving him dead in the desert.

But this time, knowing the plot in advance, he naturally would not allow those events to happen again.

"If you encounter someone who looks like me over the next few days, kill him first. Don't let him ruin our plans."

After some thought, Yu Huatian still turned to Zhao Tong and Ding Xiu and gave them that instruction.

"Huh?"

Both men froze. There were plenty of people in the world who looked alike, but however strong the resemblance, there would always be differences. How could they fail to tell them apart?

Neither understood why the director had singled this matter out for special instruction.

"Never mind. We'll discuss it later."

Seeing their expressions, Yu Huatian offered no explanation. If he had not read the original novel, he would never have believed that there could be people in this world who looked so alike... no, they were practically identical.

At such a critical moment, if he failed to take precautions and those people really did swap the sun out of the sky, impersonating him to mobilize his men, the consequences would be disastrous.

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(End of chapter)