Jianghu Demolition Squad

Moving Like the Stars (Part Thirteen)

Among those present, Qing Jiu recognized a few and knew that these people weren’t working for Xuanji Tower but had come solely based on the rumors, each coveting the Fenghou Sword for themselves.

The group had arrived together; some knew each other well enough, but none were close enough to simply hand over the Fenghou without a fight.

Qing Jiu chuckled to herself, thinking, “Do they think the Fenghou Sword is a piece of fat meat that can be divided and eaten”

The people who had come each harbored their own agendas, initially planning to steal the sword before others. However, upon hearing of Qing Jiu’s formidable reputation as the Star Lord Si Ming, who possessed strengths from both Buddhist and Daoist traditions, they hesitated to underestimate her. Furthermore, knowing they weren’t the only ones who had received the tip, and encountering each other on the way, they decided—with a common goal in mind—to band together temporarily, seize the sword first, and worry about the details later.

They weren’t true friends or the most trustworthy allies, just seasoned veterans of Jianghu who understood each other’s underlying schemes. They maintained an alliance purely because it was mutually beneficial, thus avoiding any outright betrayal.

Now that Qing Jiu had openly shared her observations, everyone became openly cautious and guarded against their fellow travelers.

Almost subconsciously, they gave sidelong glances, assessing the expressions and stances of those nearby.

Qing Jiu’s smile deepened, devoid of kindness, almost reveling in the unfolding disaster.

The young man in white spoke coldly: “Everyone, don’t listen to this woman’s words! This woman has a sharp tongue and persuasive, which is obvious enough. She’s saying all this to sow discord among us and make us fight internally so that she can win without shedding blood.”

With a snort, he added, “She’s cleverly plotting her escape, demonstrating that she knows the location of the Fenghou!”

Qing Jiu gave Yan Li a knowing look and turned to the pale-faced young man with a questioning smile, “This young master’s face is unfamiliar. I haven’t seen you before. I wonder which hero you are.”

“I am but a nameless man,” the young man scoffed, “This woman is dragging us around. Could it be that my words hit the mark, and you’re feeling guilty?”

Qing Jiu retorted, “Even a nameless man dares to contend for the Fenghou Sword. Are you ignorant of the world, young master, or are you merely hiding your true capabilities?”

As she spoke, all eyes turned toward the pale-faced young man.

Everyone had come for the Fenghou Sword. Some were acquainted, others had only heard of each other by reputation. The young man with the pale face, however, was a mystery to all.

His face grew even paler, and he coldly looked at watched Qing Jiu, then addressed the group sternly, “Don’t forget why we are here! Why bother with her nonsense? By asking her nicely, she’s not going to tell the truth. If we catch and force her, she’ll talk. If we delay any longer and someone else gets ahead of us, or if we let her escape, it’ll be too late for regrets!”

His words shifted the group’s focus from doubt to the pressing pursuit of their shared goal, and they prepared to make a preemptive strike on Qing Jiu.

Who would possess the Fenghou Sword was a question for after they had actually seen the sword.

The crowd was filled with a murderous intent, Qing Jiu, unfazed, noted the young man’s sword half-drawn and raised her hand to stop them, smiling sweetly, “Don’t rush, everyone.”

The tense air didn’t relax with Qing Jiu’s words; like wild beasts clamping down on their prey, they were ready to pounce at any moment.

Qing Jiu declared, “If it’s the Fenghou Sword you want, I’ll give it to you.”

The group was taken aback, recalling her previous denials of having the sword. Clearly, she had been deceiving them all along, and their test had proven it.

Qing Jiu called out, “Yan Li.”

Yan Li dropped an object wrapped in white cloth, its shape suggestive of a long sword.

As the object fell, the crowd tensed like arrows on a string. Seeing the Fenghou, their blood surged, and an impulsive few could not hold back and rushed forward to snatch it.

However, Qing Jiu’s reflexes were quicker, her movements as swift as the wind, capturing the object in hand. A man, acting without hesitation, lunged at Qing Jiu.

Without a second’s delay, Qing Jiu tossed the object toward the white-robed young man, exclaiming, “For you!”

Caught off guard by Qing Jiu’s sudden move during such a tense moment, the young man wasn’t sure if the sword in his hands was real or fake. He caught it instinctively and began to unwrap the white cloth to check.

The man who had previously attempted to snatch the sword from Qing Jiu’s hand spun around swiftly, his move as quick as an arrow released from a bow, and he shouted, “The Fenghou Sword is mine!”

His declaration fell like a curse among the crowd, igniting their fervor as if water had been thrown into boiling oil.

Everyone had come for the Fenghou Sword. If Qing Jiu had simply handed over the sword from the start, they would have still suspected trickery. Now, seeing Qing Jiu’s evasive answers and her reluctant surrender of the sword, their suspicions were somewhat alleviated.

As tensions peaked and they prepared to make their move, the impulsive action of the man trying to grab the sword left them with no time to think. Almost simultaneously, they all lunged for the sword.

If it hadn’t been for Qing Jiu’s previous meddling or the rash individual desperate to claim the sword, this group might have peacefully taken the Fenghou Sword, found a secluded place, and fought among themselves for it. Unfortunately, the situation changed in an instant.

The young man in white glared at Qing Jiu, desperately trying to unwrap the white cloth to verify the authenticity of the Fenghou Sword, but everyone else was also relentlessly trying to snatch it away.

He was the most unfamiliar person in the group, and since Qing Jiu had pointed him out earlier, the others grew suspicious of him. Now, if someone else had grabbed the sword, there might have been familiar faces to offer a word or two in persuasion, preventing things from escalating. But since he was the one who had it, the group showed no mercy in their approach.

Qing Jiu, avoiding the melee, moved gracefully and leaped onto the counter.

Beside the counter were stacks of wine jars. Qing Jiu, with a flick of her foot, hooked one of the jars into her arms, grabbed two wine cups from the counter, spun around, and flew up to the stairs. She sat on the railing next to Yan Li, watching the chaos unfold below.

Yan Li, having removed her outer robe unnoticed, turned to Qing Jiu and said, “This involves a divine weapon; it’s no trivial matter. I think we should head back to Suzhou sooner rather than later.” Qing Jiu seemed unconcerned.

The young man in white was gradually losing ground and had no choice but to throw the sword away.

Seeing this, Qing Jiu’s face broke into a malicious smile “How far can we travel in one night? Why take the risk? You’ve been traveling for days; rest tonight, and I’ll keep watch.”

Yan Li frowned, looking at Qing Jiu, who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the spectacle. This chaotic scene evidently delighted her deeply. “Qing Jiu,” Yan Li called out.

Qing Jiu wiped a cup with her sleeve, poured a drink, and handed it to Yan Li, saying, “I know my limits. Didn’t Liu Xiu send someone to meet us? It’s safer to have extra hands nearby on our way back, considering we might encounter ambushes. They should be arriving in a day or two…”

Before she could finish, a scream rang out below; blood had been drawn. The burly leader had obtained the sword, and along with his companions Songzhu Ke and Fu Changshe, they momentarily formed a trio capable of holding their own against the crowd.

These three were clearly the most skilled, managing to hold off seven or eight others.

The seven or eight people were determined not to let the three leave, fearing it would be akin to releasing a dragon from its chains, thereby making it difficult to stop them. They blocked all the exits, confining the fight within the inn.

With the sight of blood, everyone’s blood boiled, and no one could remain calm.

These were men of jianghu, quick to draw their swords at the slightest disagreement, and as the fight intensified, they cared less and less, fighting more fiercely as if they would not stop until death.

The young man in white took refuge in a corner, staying out of the battle while maintaining his distance.

In just the time it takes to drink two cups of tea, the inn was left in shambles, as if it had been hit by a storm, with streaks of bright red blood here and a few drops there.

Only six people remained alive, and of those, only four could still stand.

Fu Changshe and Songzhu Ke, heavily wounded, pressed their acupoints to stop the bleeding and hastily swallowed some medicine. Sitting on the ground to catch their breath, they remained alert despite their exhaustion.

The burly man still held the long sword wrapped in white cloth, now stained with blood. His eyes, red with fervor, clutched the Fenghou and laughed triumphantly, “I have obtained the Fenghou Sword, I have it!”

The young man in white seized the opportunity and suddenly made his move, drawing his sword and thrusting it towards the burly man.

The burly man, weakened, had his dagger stuck in the ground and was too slow to react; he could only hastily raise the sword still wrapped in white cloth to block the attack, but the force was too much, and he was stabbed in the shoulder.

The young man in white was about to deliver a fatal blow when a chill breeze from behind made him turn. He tried to draw his sword in response, but the assailant was too quick, leaving him no chance to dodge.

He felt a heavy blow to his knee, causing intense pain and weakness, forcing him to kneel. Then his acupoint was struck.

His hair was grabbed from the front and pulled back, forcing him to raise his head. Only then did he see who had attacked him from behind.

The assailant was Qing Jiu, whose beauty could make one forget the mundane world—though he was not in any state to appreciate it. Her eyes were cold, sending shivers down his spine.

Shang Sheng was pressed lightly against the young man in white’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood. Qing Jiu, with a cold smile, asked, “Are you from Xuanji Tower?”

The young man’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced a smile and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that so,” Qing Jiu remarked and drew the blade across his throat with a swift, chilling motion. As soon as she let go, he collapsed, blood gushing out, pooling around him. He lay in a growing pool of his own blood, life fading within moments.

While the others were still shocked by Qing Jiu’s skill, she had already sheathed Shang Sheng and retrieved the sword wrapped in white cloth from the burly man’s hand.

The man had regained some strength, and so had Songzhu Ke and Fu Changshe. Seeing her reach for the sword, they mistakenly thought she was trying to take back the Fenghou and lunged at her.

Yan Li suddenly descended from the stairs, her whisk swaying with a softness that belied its deadly force.

The two tried to retreat, but exhausted from the fight, they were no match for Yan Li, who quickly immobilized them with precise hits to their acupoints.

Meanwhile, Qing Jiu had already subdued the burly man. She took the sword, unwrapped the white cloth, which turned out to be a white Daoist robe, revealing a long sword inside that looked ordinary.

Everyone’s gaze shifted to the sword in Qing Jiu’s hand as she drew it from its sheath.

It was a fine sword but lacked any divine aura; it was just an ordinary precious sword, not even comparable to Qing Jiu’s dagger.

The burly man, still processing the situation, exclaimed, “How can this be!”

Songzhu Ke and Fu Changshe realized they had been tricked, saying, “So, we fell for your trick!”

Qing Jiu tossed the Daoist robe to Yan Li. Yan Li, looking at the blood-stained robe, sighed and resignedly put it on.

In the cold winter, she hadn’t had the chance to bring a change of clothes.

It turned out that Qing Jiu had earlier signaled to Yan Li with her eyes. Yan Li immediately understood and removed her Daoist robe, using it to wrap the long sword on her back. While Qing Jiu was speaking with the young man in white, everyone’s attention was on them, and no one noticed Yan Li’s subtle movements.

Afterward, when everyone heard of the Fenghou Sword and became heated, all attention was on the sword, and no one noticed the small details like whether Yian Li wore an outer robe or carried a long sword on her back.

Qing Jiu stood before the burly man, tapped his face with the sword, and sneered, “All this for a worthless sword.”

The burly man’s face turned red with anger, and after struggling to find words, he bellowed, “Just kill me then, stop wasting words!”

Qing Jiu didn’t strike, instead asking, “I wonder where you all heard the news that I had the Fenghou Sword?”

Qing Jiu scoffed coldly, “Why don’t you consider this—everyone desires the Fenghou Sword, so why would the person who spread the word not come to claim it themselves instead of choosing to widely disseminate the information?”

The three individual’s expressions shifted as Qing Jiu continued, “You all have been pushed forward to test the waters. It’s like the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind. Be careful not to be used as pawns without realizing it.”

The burly man had a sudden flash of insight, glaring at the young man in white lying beside him, his facial muscles twitching as he cursed under his breath, “Damn it!”

The man looked at Qing Jiu and said, “Meeting a cunning woman like you, I admit defeat. Whether to kill or spare me, I’ll leave it to your discretion. If you ever cross paths with those scoundrels from Xuanji Tower, do me a favor and stab them an extra time for me.”

The three were ready to face their fate. Qing Jiu eyed them for a long while without making a move, then finally spoke leisurely, “I can spare your lives.”

Although they weren’t afraid to die, they still valued their lives. Hearing the chance of survival, they shook visibly and looked at Qing Jiu, waiting for her to continue.

“But there’s one condition.”

The three nodded, resignedly thinking, “As expected.”

The burly man prompted, “Tell us.”

Yan Li couldn’t help but find it amusing. This man was at their mercy, yet he still had the demeanor of someone ready to negotiate.

Qing Jiu stated, “For the rest of your lives, you must not touch the Fenghou Sword. Should you encounter any matter related to it, you must not get involved. If you can swear to this, I will believe you and spare you.”

Qing Jiu watched their expressions closely. The three did not immediately agree, wrestling internally with the decision until their expressions gradually relaxed.

After a long moment, the burly man declared solemnly, “Alright! I, Kui Shan, swear never to touch the Fenghou Sword or involve myself in any matters related to it. If I break this oath, may I not die a good death nor leave a whole corpse!”

Following his declaration, Songzhu Ke and Fu Changshe also took their oaths, and true to her word, Qing Jiu released their acupoints.

These rogues of Jianghu had their own principles; they were not entirely without rules or solely deceitful. They either strictly adhered to their oaths or highly valued their reputations. Though they acted independently, they followed their own set of rules, which is why the various martial factions hadn’t completely eradicated them.

Yan Li knew that Songzhu Ke and Fu Changshe were particularly proud, hence after being humbled, they had stayed out of jianghu for many years.

Qing Jiu’s decision to “release the tiger back to the mountain” was not made lightly.

Kui Shan stood up, picked up his sword, and looked directly at Qing Jiu, asking, “What’s your name?”

“Qing Jiu,” she replied with a smile. “Why, thinking of coming back to challenge me again sometime?”

Kui Shan declared, “Qing Jiu, I’ll remember your mercy in sparing my life. I, Kui Shan, am a true man of my word. I honor my debts and keep my promises. If you ever need help, just send a letter to the Juxian Hall in Hangzhou. Once I receive it, I’ll do everything in my power to assist you!”

Songzhu Ke and Fu Changshe echoed similar sentiments, speaking clearly and decisively. Having said their piece, they left one after another, while the two men who were half-dead earlier now lay breathless, their lives having slipped away unnoticed.

Qing Jiu surveyed the chaotic inn once more and smiled at Yan Li, “Let’s just stay here for the night. It’s been quite lively today; it should be quieter at night.”

Yian Li sighed helplessly and walked upstairs.

As Qing Jiu had predicted, the night passed peacefully. The next day, seeing that no one from Yanyu Pavilion came looking for them, they left the city early in the morning and headed towards Suzhou.

The pair reached a small clearing in the woods where there was a tea stall with steaming cups of tea on the table, yet it was deserted.

They halted their horses, and Qing Jiu called out, “The snow is cold, and the weather is freezing. Friends hiding in the shadows, don’t conceal yourselves. Come out and meet us..”

Her clear voice carried through the woods, and silently, dozens of figures appeared, stepping on the snow without a sound, all skilled martial artists.

One of them, with a robust voice, cut straight to the point, “Hand over the Fenghou Sword.”

These figures, unlike those they encountered at the inn, were all masked, making it impossible to discern their identities. Compared to yesterday’s ruffians, these men seemed much less honorable.

Yan Li sighed deeply, “The innocent are not guilty, but possessing a treasure brings guilt. Even without the treasure, there is no peace.”

Qing Jiu scoffed, “Vermin scurry back no matter how many times you drive them away.”