Chapter 37: A Chance Encounter

In Dashuo, there are certain things one must never touch.

The Ming Cult, for instance. Rebellion, for another.

Touch them, and you die—your whole family wiped out, annihilated as thoroughly as worms split lengthwise, as ruthlessly as eggs beaten until the yolk disappears.

The court generally does not target any particular martial sect unless they have committed some egregious act. But the Ming Cult is different. No matter who leads it, no matter if they've done anything wrong, the imperial attitude has always been the same—kill.

No matter how powerful a martial sect becomes, it is still only an entity that can be destroyed. Even ten supreme masters cannot withstand three thousand armored cavalrymen.

But the Ming Cult is different. It is a religion, an idea—a doctrine with its own methods, ever seeking beyond itself.

And that is dangerous.

Red Turbans, Yellow Turbans, Fang La, Sun En, Lu Xun, Xu Hongru... The examples are endless. With so many precedents, it’s no wonder the court treats the Ming Cult as it does.

Especially when Ji Tianrui journeyed to Miaojiang years ago—a case that shook the empire. A career rebel going to Miaojiang to learn the arts of witchcraft and poison—what could he be planning?

It was like a dog with an irrepressible taste for filth charging toward a latrine; you don’t wait to catch it in the act, you kick it in the face before it gets there. That’s called self-defense.

Nearly the entire Embroidered Guards went south to kill him in Miaojiang, and in the process, they slaughtered nearly all of the Ming Cult’s upper ranks.

Since then, the Ming Cult went underground, becoming a taboo subject in Dashuo.

Now, hearing from the Embroidered Guard’s own lips that Zuo Lishan had colluded with the Ming Cult, Gao Ling understood that she should not be thinking of how to kill Zuo Lishan.

She should be thinking of how to keep as many disciples of the Mount Tai Sect alive as possible.

“Sir... Lord…” Gao Ling began timidly.

“Elder Gao, there’s no need for such courtesy,” Li Miao spread his hands. “It won’t help you.”

“But you don’t need to think so ill of me—or of the court. It’s true, I must destroy the Mount Tai Sect, but I have other plans as well. Those who haven’t been involved, I’ll spare a few to serve the court.”

“As for who lives and who dies... You’ll have to pray that Zuo Lishan behaves himself these next few days and doesn’t drag more of you down with him.”

At these words, Mei Qinghe, listening behind him, opened her eyes and seemed about to speak.

“Hey—” Li Miao had already heard the shift in Mei Qinghe’s breathing and heartbeat, knew what she was about to say, and raised his hand to stop her.

“The Five Peaks Alliance fell through, but since I’m here, I might as well sweep up the rest. These other four sects, so closely tied with Mount Tai, will have to pay some price.”

“If you’re caught in this, you’re simply unlucky.”

“The rules for this were set in Shuntian Prefecture—they can’t be changed.”

Mei Qinghe’s gaze dimmed, and she fell silent. Gao Ling’s expression was equally hopeless.

“All right, ladies. Sulking won’t solve anything. Do what I ask, and perhaps I’ll spare a few more lives.”

“What’s done is done. For now, let’s eat.”

By now, dusk had fallen, and it was dinner time. Li Miao stood, and with Gao Ling and Mei Qinghe, went out in search of food.

Having extorted a fair sum from Xu Siyuan, the commander of the Pingshan Guard, Li Miao naturally chose the finest fare. After several days in Tai’an City, he knew where to find the best food, and soon led the two women to a well-known tavern.

As they entered, the server recognized this generous patron at once and greeted him warmly, “Sir, you’re back!”

“There’s a private room available upstairs, and the head chef is free. Shall I prepare a dozen or so of his best hot dishes and five or six cold ones, using the freshest ingredients of the day, just as before?”

Li Miao smiled, “Good man.” He pulled out some silver and placed it in the server’s hand.

The server’s face lit up with joy. He quickly led the three upstairs, served them tea and snacks, and hurried off to the kitchen.

Once he left, the atmosphere in the private room turned heavy.

Gao Ling was preoccupied with the fate of Mount Tai, fearing what Zuo Lishan might do. Mei Qinghe’s internal strength had been tampered with by her sect, and now the Huashan Sect was being implicated with the Ming Cult.

Both women sat with heads bowed, silent and despondent.

Li Miao thought, “Well, I suppose I’m doomed to eat alone without conversation,” and had to amuse himself with the snacks.

Just then, a commotion rose from downstairs as a group of more than a dozen people entered.

A loud voice called out, “Just bring us enough food for our group!”

Mei Qinghe’s face changed when she heard that voice.

Seeing her reaction, Li Miao quickly guessed what was happening. He smiled, focusing his attention to eavesdrop on the group below.

Most of their chatter was idle—remarks about the fine weather, the exhaustion of travel, and so on. But at one smaller table, the conversation turned interesting after they sat down.

A young man’s voice said, “Master, we’re only half an hour from Mount Tai. Why not head straight there instead of staying in Tai’an for the night?”

An elderly woman’s voice replied, “Who pays a visit to a sect after dark? Arriving at night is a declaration of enmity. In the martial world, one must follow the rules.”

The young man sounded aggrieved, “Yes, Master.”

After a pause, he spoke again, “I wonder where Senior Sister is now. I was hoping she’d make a name for us at the Five Peaks Alliance…”

The elder sighed, “I know what she’s gone to do. I’d hoped to take her to settle her past after the Five Peaks Alliance, so she’d be safe, but she couldn’t wait and went down the mountain herself.”

“From the news we’ve heard these past days, it seems she’s already done what she set out to do, and might be on her way to join us now.”

“But this matter... I fear Chief Zuo won’t let it pass so easily. He’ll seize upon it to suppress us once more…”

At this, Li Miao had heard enough. He rose and turned to Mei Qinghe. “Come, Miss Mei.”

“Since we’ve run into them, there’s no time like the present. You might as well introduce me.”

With that, he headed downstairs, Mei Qinghe and Gao Ling following behind.

The elderly woman at the table looked to be about fifty, her hair half white but well-kept, with few wrinkles on her face. Her back was straight, her expression stern, and her sword lay on the table within easy reach.

As Li Miao approached, she frowned, about to ask his business, but caught sight of Mei Qinghe and froze.

A young man at the table leapt up in delight, “Senior Sister! You did come to find us!”

This group was the Huashan Sword Sect, come for the Five Peaks Alliance.

And the elderly lady was none other than their leader—Mei Qinghe’s master, the “White Cloud Sword,” Liu Baiyun.