Chapter 44: A Challenge Issued

“Uh—”
Deng Boxuan was immediately silenced by Li Miao.
But he quickly smiled and changed his tone, saying, “Yes, yes, it was presumptuous of me.”
“The Deputy Commander Bu of the Northern Embroidered Uniform Guard is renowned far and wide!”
He felt a pang of regret, realizing he had been too careless and inadvertently committed a taboo. The Southern and Northern Embroidered Uniform Guards were rivals within the same yamen, each with their own interests. He had foolishly offered praise, but it ended up directed at the superior of the rival faction—an unwise move.
But then Li Miao spoke: “I’m not under Bu Lei’s command.”
“If you want to flatter my superior, save your efforts for Commander Zhu. Don’t flatter the wrong person.”
Officially, Li Miao was a member of the Northern Embroidered Uniform Guard, and his salary came from their coffers.
However, his situation was rather unique.
He had served under Commander Zhu Zaizhen for over a decade, and everyone in the guard had seen the way Zhu had mentored and trusted him through the years. Whenever Zhu encountered a particularly thorny problem, it was always Li Miao who was entrusted with the task.
As for Li Miao’s temperament… Well, everyone knew. The consensus within the Northern Embroidered Uniform Guard was clear: never assign anything to Li Miao. If the commander gave him a task, he’d simply use you as a shield, dragging his feet and refusing to go himself.
And when Zhu Zaizhen hurled his chopsticks at your face, you’d have no right to complain.
After all, maintaining a thousand-man unit was no small expense. To keep one that never obeyed orders was unsustainable. Over time, Li Miao’s unit had become increasingly independent, and his pay began to come directly from Zhu Zaizhen himself.
The “coffers” Li Miao usually drew from were, in fact, Zhu Zaizhen’s private funds.
A son squandering his father’s land feels no pain, and so Li Miao helped himself at will. Zhu Zaizhen didn’t mind, and nobody else dared to interfere.
Everyone in the Embroidered Uniform Guard understood this, but Deng Boxuan was left dumbfounded.
He thought, “You’re not under the Southern Guard, nor the Northern Guard. I call you ‘sir,’ but you point straight to your own commander.”
“Whose Embroidered Uniform Guard are you, then? Is this even the Great Shuo anymore?”
Yet the commandant’s badge at Li Miao’s waist was genuine.
But the words “my superior is Commander Zhu” rang all too clear.
Deng Boxuan thought, “This is serious.”
If this commandant was here on the direct orders of the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s commander, it meant there was someone on Mount Tai whom the imperial court wished dead.
Before nightfall, most of those in this room would be gone.
Unable to discern Li Miao’s purpose, even the disciples from Song, Heng, and Hengshan Sects wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.
Deng Boxuan fell silent.

Zuo Lishan was nowhere to be seen, and he had no intention of being the scapegoat. His Hengshan Sect, situated in the south, had never participated in suppressing the Huashan Sect. He merely wished to develop his own sect under the Five Mountains Sword Alliance’s name.
On ordinary days, he could play the mediator, but he would not step forward to take the fall.
For a moment, silence reigned in the room, broken only by the occasional clinking of Li Miao’s teacup lid.
Those seated near Li Miao, representatives of various martial factions, were drenched in cold sweat, frozen in place, scarcely daring to breathe lest they draw Li Miao’s attention.
Why hasn’t Zuo Lishan arrived yet!?
He was the host—how could he let us face the storm alone?
This thought simmered in everyone’s mind.
Fortunately, a quick-witted disciple of the Mount Tai Sect had already sensed trouble and hurried off to send word.
The silence dragged on until, at last, someone entered from the rear hall.
“I, Zuo, have recently made a breakthrough in my secluded cultivation, and lost track of time. Forgive my neglect of you all.”
His voice arrived before he did.
The speaker wore a long sword at his waist, his face stern and square, his attire immaculate, with a single glove on his right hand. He walked to the center of the room and stood tall.
It was none other than Zuo Lishan!
Now he was entirely different from the mad figure Gao Ling had encountered the previous day, restored to the composed bearing of the “Guardian Sword of the Mountains” with not a trace of yesterday’s mania.
His cold gaze swept the room, pausing first on Gao Ling, then fixing on Li Miao.
Ignoring the astonished looks, he strode straight toward Li Miao without so much as a greeting to anyone else.
“Lord Li.”
Zuo Lishan walked up and stopped before Li Miao. “It has been a long time.”
“I must thank Lord Li for your guidance a few days ago—I have greatly benefited from it.”
Li Miao did not even look up. “Think nothing of it. It was nothing.”
At this, blood vessels flared in Zuo Lishan’s eyes, something seeming to writhe under his robe.
This single phrase nearly shattered the calm façade he had fought so hard to maintain.
“Nothing”?
You wounded me to the brink of death, crippled my right hand, forced me to use the Ming Cult’s secret art and the poison worms ahead of time—yet this was “nothing” to you?

Zuo Lishan’s current composure was but a mask; his mind and body within had changed beyond recognition. The madness Gao Ling had witnessed was no act. He truly had become a madman.
If that secret art had no drawbacks and could enhance a master’s skill, why would the Ming Cult not use it themselves?
The Ming Cult did not hand it over out of goodwill, but to lay a trap for Zuo Lishan.
If he refused, he would remain forever at his current level. If he accepted, he would never again be able to hold his head high before the Ming Cult, lest they expose his use of foreign poisons and unorthodox internal energy.
Seeing Li Miao and Gao Ling, Zuo Lishan had been overjoyed: the only two witnesses to his grievous wounds had delivered themselves to his door.
Silence them, and all his future troubles would be gone. As for settling accounts with the Ming Cult and the Embroidered Uniform Guard, he could bide his time.
The old Zuo Lishan would never have acted rashly, but now, with his mind twisted, a single light remark from Li Miao nearly drove him to violence.
He forced down his fury and nodded. “Lord Li expects nothing in return, but I must not forget your kindness.”
“Since Lord Li has come to my Mount Tai Sect today, I owe you a great debt and it is only right I extend you proper hospitality.”
“You are an official and not one of us commoners. There is a private residence on the back mountain—far from the guest halls, so the affairs of us martial artists will not disturb your peace.”
“Would Lord Li be willing to spend the night there?”
By now, even Mei Qinghe understood Zuo Lishan’s real meaning.
A challenge.
Zuo Lishan had cultivated a demonic art, his strength now beyond compare, his body transformed by the poison worms—tougher and stranger than any ordinary man.
Li Miao had held back that day; from the skills he displayed, Zuo Lishan reckoned he now had the upper hand.
So he was provoking him.
He asked “would you be willing,” but the true meaning was “do you dare?”
Do you dare to spend the night somewhere so remote no one will hear a sound, waiting for me to come for you?
“Very well.”
Li Miao stood up. “Since Sect Master Zuo is so gracious, I will accept and stay another night.”