Chapter 57: Rumors of the Martial World

Shi Ya’s gray eyes flickered slightly as she spoke in a soft voice, “I picked up this item by chance. The moment I held it, I felt an immense force surge into my body. After that, I went to the Assassin’s Hall to seek vengeance.”

A trace of confusion flashed in Ji Huo’s eyes, but he quickly suppressed it and nodded. “That is indeed fate. Are you heading to Purple Lightning Peak next?”

A hint of hesitation appeared in Shi Ya’s vacant gaze, but then she felt the hand holding hers tighten slightly, as if encouraging her. She gathered her resolve and said firmly, “Yes!”

Ji Huo and Xia Ningshang exchanged a glance, both seeing resignation in each other’s eyes.

“In that case, let us make our way to Purple Lightning Peak,” Ji Huo said with a smile. “Don’t worry—since I’ve promised to help you get revenge, I’ll handle whatever comes our way.”

Purple Lightning Peak was still several days’ journey from here. Given that Shi Ya was blind, even if two people shared a horse, it would not be convenient. So they decided to rest for a while in the nearest town and then look for a carriage to travel at a more comfortable pace.

Regarding this plan, Xia Ningshang asked, “If we swagger openly like this, aren’t we afraid of being ambushed by people from the martial world?”

“Let them come. We’ll kill them all,” Ji Huo replied, snapping open his folding fan and laughing. “They’re nothing but petty men coveting treasures.”

Shi Ya, unable to see, moved slowly even with Qian Wu’s support.

Humans are creatures accustomed to using their eyes, and because of this, their other senses are dulled. If you’re curious, try covering your eyes and walking a circle around your own home—even in such a familiar place, you’ll bump into things frequently. Without sight, your sense of distance deteriorates, and collisions become inevitable.

Shi Ya was in just this state. Perhaps sensing her days were numbered, she bumped into things even more often now, frequently colliding with Qian Wu and leaving him looking rather embarrassed each time.

Ji Huo could hardly bear to watch, and perhaps because their pace was so slow, he said irritably, “Why don’t you just carry her on your back?”

“Huh? Oh! Right!” Qian Wu finally caught on, hurriedly squatting down. Shi Ya, a hint of secret delight at her lips, climbed onto his back, and Qian Wu’s hands awkwardly hovered, unsure where to place them.

He was clearly an innocent young man, completely inexperienced.

That’s why boys should take care of themselves when out in the world—lest they fall into someone’s trap and end up taken advantage of.

But as soon as Shi Ya was on Qian Wu’s back, their speed improved dramatically. Particularly Qian Wu, perhaps a bit nervous, wore a face as stiff as ice, his feet seeming to smoke as he strode on swiftly and steadily.

In the end, he was just a boy who’d yet to see much of the world. Had I failed in the education of the Qian Kun Sect? Perhaps so. There are so many in the Qian Kun Sect—seventy-two Heavenly Gang, thirty-six Earth Fiends, and thousands of disciples—and yet so few young women…

Ji Huo shook his head and glanced at Xia Ningshang. She followed closely behind, but her already pale face had grown whiter, with a faint sheen of sweat.

“Miss Xia, your injury hasn’t healed yet?” Ji Huo asked, concerned. He’d known she was hurt since their first meeting, but after several days, there was still no improvement—strange indeed.

“It won’t heal anytime soon,” Xia Ningshang replied, shaking her head.

“How did you get hurt?” Ji Huo asked casually, looking into her eyes.

Xia Ningshang blinked and answered offhandedly, “I fell from a cliff when I first arrived in the Central Plains—took a few hits and got injured. Injuries to the muscles and bones take a hundred days to heal; it’ll be a while.”

Nonsense! At least make up a more believable story!

Ji Huo griped inwardly. “And you didn’t find anything at the bottom of the cliff?”

“Find anything?” Xia Ningshang asked, puzzled.

Ji Huo smiled. “The martial world in the Central Plains is different. Usually, those who survive a cliff fall have some kind of adventure—like discovering a secret manual or something. Take Kun San for example; that’s what happened to him.”

“Is that really a thing?” Xia Ningshang asked in surprise.

“Of course. Everyone who falls off a cliff has a story to tell, and I’ve never heard a single complaint,” Ji Huo said lightly.

“Then I must have had terrible luck—not even a single stroke of fortune,” Xia Ningshang replied with a wry smile.

Soon they reached a bustling town. They quickly found a lodging at the Tongji Inn, bought some fresh clothes, and had Shi Ya bathe and change—her bloodstained appearance was simply too alarming.

Since Xia Ningshang was injured, she returned to her room to rest. Qian Wu kept watch outside Shi Ya’s room, and Ji Huo, left idle, found a seat downstairs in the inn. He ordered a plate of beef and a pot of white porcelain wine, sipping leisurely while listening to the gossip of the martial world.

An inn is always a gathering place for rumors. People of the Jianghu have little entertainment and are often too poor to spend their money on brothels or musical performances, so gossiping becomes the pastime of choice.

“Have you heard the news?” someone asked not long after Ji Huo sat down.

At once, the room quieted as everyone looked at the speaker, entering full-on gossip mode.

The man, pleased with the attention, grinned slyly and said, “I’ve heard that the head of the Tang Clan just married a new concubine, barely eighteen years old!”

An uproar broke out in the room.

“I thought the Tang Clan leader was eighty! Still chasing young girls? He’s really something!”

“That’s not all. I heard his last concubine only died not long ago, and now he’s married again? Which one is this?”

“The tenth!”

“Truly an old dog with a young heart,” someone quipped, and the others raised their thumbs in approval, declaring this bit of gossip worthy of praise before cursing the Tang Clan’s old master for his shamelessness.

With this opening, the atmosphere in the inn warmed, and more rumors began to flow:

“Word in the Jianghu is that the Flower Bee was whipped a hundred times at the Stone Gate Arch Bridge!”

“Rumor has it, two men fought for three days and nights at the Anlan Rope Bridge—supposedly over a love affair.”

“Recently, someone actually made it through the Sword Scar Road at Divine Sword Manor and challenged the Sword Saint, but was defeated and heavily wounded.”

Hearing this, Ji Huo paused in mid-sip.

Someone gasped. “No one’s crossed the Sword Scar Road in years. Who was it?”

The informant shook his head. “All we know is that it was a young man. Nothing else is clear.”

Ji Huo took another slow sip of wine.

“Breaking news! The Point Sword Manor was wiped out! They say the culprit had a fragment of a demonic weapon. All the experts who went after him ended up dead!”

The inn’s atmosphere ignited again, the room abuzz with speculation as if firecrackers had gone off.

Ji Huo finished his wine, stood, and returned to his room upstairs. There was little else of interest to be heard.