A Hall Full of Heroes

The sixth day of the sixth month.

Lakeside Manor was decked with lanterns and colorful streamers. Eight burly men in brand-new brocade robes stood before the gates to welcome visitors from across the martial world, their left arms bared to reveal dragon tattoos, their bearing lean and fierce.

"Heroes, worthies, please come inside!"

In the martial world, calling everyone a hero or a worthy was much like addressing everyone in business as a wealthy patron or a gentleman of means. Whatever their actual standing, it was close enough.

Those who had arrived early for the feast were figures of some standing in Gusu.

Take Third Master Wen, who collected "chivalry money" in Gourd Lane on Ten-Li Street. Never mind his protruding belly and ready smiles now-in his early years, he had sold himself as a punching bag. Someone had kicked his manhood to pieces, yet he had not uttered so much as a groan. That ruthless grit had earned him his cushy livelihood.

How could he not deserve to be called a hero?

Then there was Old Kuai, whose family had worked as night-soil collectors for generations in southern Gusu City. Wherever he went, a brass ladle hung at his waist. With hundreds of dung sons and dung grandsons under him, when the carts and chamber pots rolled out together, men and ghosts alike gave them a wide berth.

How could he not count as a worthy?

There were all sorts, too many to list.

They gathered outside the gates, calling to friends and exchanging pleasantries. It might resemble a marketplace, but this, too, was the martial world.

The martial world was like a lake, its layers clearly divided.

Those at the top were like flood dragons, their heads glimpsed but never their tails.

Mantuo Manor, the Murong Family, and Cold Mountain Temple all possessed foundations built over several generations. Ordinary people could not even reach their thresholds. Their reputations and connections had long since spread beyond Gusu, their gilded signboards shining brightly.

Those in the middle were like fierce tigers, each with roots of their own.

The West Canal Gate, Water Shark Gang, Azure Cloud Manor, and Golden Wind Manor either attached themselves to those above or ruled their own territories.

As for those at the bottom...

"Sun Laoba is here!"

Hoofbeats rang out. After a burst of commotion at the gates, the voices slowly subsided, and everyone looked north. Eight riders galloped toward them along the lakeside willows. Their leader was in his early forties, dressed in a dark red robe with a broad saber at his waist. An iron patch covered his left eye, and his full beard bounced with the motion of his horse.

They were still two li away.

"If the Tyrant Tiger Gang is coming, the other two are bound to show up."

Third Master Wen stepped back twice and said quietly, "Of the four gangs of South Canal, the Fish-Dragon Gang has fallen. The Black Flood Dragon Gang taking its place is already a foregone conclusion."

"I think there's more to it."

Old Kuai reached to his right hip, took down a brass pipe, struck his flint, and narrowed his eyes as he took a puff.

Every household needed its night soil collected, and no one paid attention to a night-soil collector.

The dung master of the southern city was well informed.

Both men made their living off Gusu City and had known each other for some time, so they could talk freely.

Third Master Wen asked in surprise, "You think the Black Flood Dragon Gang has a chance of ruling all of South Canal, old brother?"

Old Kuai blew a smoke ring and smiled. "When have you ever heard of a martial-world boss reading the Spring and Autumn Annals? Zhang Hengye is someone to reckon with. Jin Gaozong kept him down before, but now we'll have something to watch. Setting up an open arena to force the Fish-Dragon Gang to show itself-his methods combine the orthodox with the unexpected..."

Third Master Wen nodded slightly, his thumb and middle finger touching like an orchid blossom. Watching the seven or eight riders rapidly approach, he said, "I've heard the Fish-Dragon Gang's new chief is no ordinary man either."

"That's why we'll have something to watch..."

The Cao River originally ran north to south, but as it passed Gusu City, a western branch followed the old channel dug when the King of Wu attacked Chu, flowing straight into Lake Tai. With the West Canal River as the boundary, the land between Lake Tai and Gusu City was thus divided into two regions.

North Canal was prosperous. With the Murong Family holding sway at Canhe Manor in Swallow Bastion, its waters had always been calm.

South Canal was a jumble of fish and dragons. Over the past few years, its martial world had gradually come under the joint rule of four gangs.

"Venerable Chief Sun of the Tyrant Tiger Gang has arrived!"

"Venerable, my ass!"

Sun Laoba reined in before the gates. Hearing the announcement, his single eye glared furiously. He reached to his waist and hurled something.

Whoosh!

The guests scattered at the sound. A wooden box spun toward the gates, the wind howling around it, internal force surging through it. It was no less formidable than a meteor hammer. Horror crossed the faces of the eight greeters. Skilled as they were, catching this box head-on would snap both their arms.

But if they did not catch it?

The Black Flood Dragon Gang's face would fall straight into the dirt.

"Move!"

A figure shot out from inside the gates, stretched out both arms, and caught the box. Retreating with its momentum, he swept it in a great circle before his body, finally dissipating that overbearing force. His rear foot braced against the threshold. His hands slightly stiff, he slowly passed the box to a nearby gang member.

Zhu Tuo panted heavily, a smile still on his face.

"Nothing beats starting things off with a bang. Thank you for your generous gift, Chief Sun."

"Hahaha! The Black Softshell Turtle Head lives up to his name. What deft skills! Since you're holding a grand feast, I brought a century-old ginseng root to celebrate. Yet he insisted on calling me old. Am I old? Do any of you think I'm old?"

Seated on his horse, Sun Laoba raised his iron saber and asked with a hearty laugh.

"Chief, you're as mighty as a tiger! Not old at all!"

The seven riders behind him answered in unison.

"Hahaha..."

Suppressing his anger, Zhu Tuo bent his hunched back and cupped his hands. "Chief Sun, the brothers below don't know any better. Now that you've delivered your generous gift, please come in and take your seat."

"Hahaha!"

Sun Laoba swung down from his horse, laughing heartily. With a flourish of his dark red robe and his iron saber in hand, he led the Tyrant Tiger Gang disciples inside in single file.

A short while later.

"Chief Zhou of Wolf Head Stronghold has arrived!"

"Congratulations, Second Brother Zhu."

"And to you, and to you. It's all thanks to Stronghold Chief Zhou and our friends in the martial world doing us this honor..."

Zhou Xiao carried two swords on his back and had brought only one attendant. He was of middling build, with a sallow face and a rather unsmiling manner.

Rumor had it that his martial arts were quite formidable, approaching the second-rate level, but an injury had later stalled his progress.

"Leader Yang of the Red Flower Society has arrived!"

Three of South Canal's original four gangs had now arrived in succession, tacitly acknowledging the Black Flood Dragon Gang's standing.

"Everyone who ought to come is here!"

"Those rats really don't have the guts to show themselves!"

Zhu Tuo craned his head and looked around outside. It was nearly noon, the sun shone brightly, and green willows cast their shade. Not a soul was in sight. Hidden scouts had been stationed in the surrounding woods; at the first sign of trouble, they would immediately fire signal arrows.

"Do they think we can do nothing to them if they don't attend the feast?"

A sinister smile appeared in his eyes.

"Big Brother's brilliant plan will drag the Fish-Dragon Gang's name through the dirt this time. They'll never hold their heads up by Lake Tai again, haha..."

"Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Three sudden laughs rang out like thunder from a clear sky, shrill and mournful. Zhu Tuo's heart jolted, and he hastily reached for the Softshell Turtle Head Lotus Pestle at his waist. Then he saw a Daoist emerge from behind a willow, long of arm and leg, his beard and hair disheveled.

Carrying a vermilion-purple gourd, he sang as he walked.

"Five-flowered steed, thousand-gold fur, call the boy to trade them for fine wine! Come, come, come!"

The operatic lyrics rang out, piercing metal and splitting stone. As he reached the manor gates, he came to "call the boy" and beckoned to the crowd, his drunken eyes bleary and his face all smiles, as though seeking to take a little advantage.

Zhu Tuo waved impatiently. "Chase him off!"

Two burly men sprang forward at his command, each seized an arm, and they flung him away. The Daoist flew five or six paces and landed heavily on the ground. The fright seemed to sober him up. He picked up his gourd and slowly left.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

Just then, three strokes of a bronze gong sounded from within, as though the curtain had only just risen on a fine show.

"The hour has come. The banquet is about to begin."

Zhu Tuo turned around and looked at the plaque draped in red silk. The three gilded characters for "Black Flood Dragon Gang" were a splendid sight. He was in excellent spirits. His only regret was... Big Brother would not let him touch that piece of fresh meat delivered right to their door.

Could he be keeping it for his own enjoyment?

Damn it, someone who reads the Spring and Autumn Annals isn't on such a different plane from an illiterate like me...

Leaving four men to guard the gates, Zhu Tuo headed inside, wagging his head. Before he reached the hall, an unusual fragrance of wine reached him. His nostrils twitched, and he quickened his steps through the corridor.

"Fine wine."

A dark figure slipped into a room on the eastern side, immediately shut the door, and poked a small hole facing the corridor. Watching the hunchbacked man hurry past, he raised a yellow-skinned gourd and took a small sip.

"Careful..."

Only a moment later, Zhu Tuo returned, directing four burly men carrying a large plaque toward the banquet hall. As they turned, its front happened to face east, and Li Yu saw the words on it.

"Fish-Dragon Gang."