Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wilds Chapter Eighty-One: The Everlasting World of Jianghu
What began as a solitary journey had now become a party of three.
The two men of the martial world rode ahead on horseback, breaking into loud laughter from time to time or beckoning back with their hands, the strong scent of wine trailing behind them on the wind.
Yu Ye followed at a leisurely trot, watching the pair in their drunken revelry. He could not say if he felt exasperated or merely curious, so he simply shook his head in silence.
He was no stranger to men of the jianghu—he had met the likes of Old Feng the Seventh, Jiang Xiong, and Zhong Jian, all sharp and formidable. Yet today’s encounter with Tianbao and Ren Liang was different; these two seemed to value brotherhood above all, and for the sake of a jar of old wine, they had taken him as a kindred spirit and invited him to join them in seeking treasure at Mount Chenling.
He had intended to refuse, but after some consideration, Yu Ye agreed. It was on his way, for he would pass Mount Chenling regardless. Moreover, traveling with true men of the martial world provided convenient cover for his identity.
Besides, he could not spend his life merely running and hiding. He, too, wished to know what had become of the jianghu, and the whereabouts of Bu Yi and those cultivators from Qizhou.
Along the dusty road, three steeds raced away...
...
By dusk, a gorge appeared up ahead.
Beyond the gorge, the land opened wide; a great river surged on the right, while to the left, at the foot of the mountains, sprawled a cluster of houses—the town of Chenling. Some ten miles farther south lay Mount Chenling itself, majestic and mysterious in the evening’s fading light, its peaks rising in impressive array.
“Haha! For good luck, let us stay at this inn, brothers!”
At the southern end of town stood a large compound. A banner fluttered from the flagpole at the gate, bearing the name “Gathering Treasures Inn.”
The inn’s name, “Gathering Treasures,” echoed Tianbao’s own, a fortuitous omen—he hoped, no doubt, for luck and prosperity.
Yu Ye followed the brothers into the courtyard.
Guestrooms lined the east and north sides; the porter’s room and tavern occupied the west, and the stables stood to the south, already filled with two or three dozen fine horses.
They took a single room. According to Tianbao, the inn was full of martial men, with only one room left; and since their quest would begin in the deep of night, any place to rest sufficed. The reason for their nocturnal venture was that Mount Chenling’s anomalies appeared only after sunset.
As darkness fell, lanterns were hung and bonfires lit in the courtyard, with a dozen tables set around them.
Dozens of martial men sat in groups, drinking, eating, and laughing boisterously.
The three claimed a table, ordered a jar of wine, three great platters of meat, and a stack of flatbreads.
Tianbao and Ren Liang could not be separated from their wine, and Yu Ye, though reluctant, had no choice but to keep up, secretly using his cultivation to dispel the effects of the alcohol.
The inn held more than thirty such men, of varying ages and dress, their accents betraying distant origins—they had all come in search of treasure.
Did Mount Chenling truly hold some hidden trove?
Yu Ye drank and ate, quietly extending his senses. The courtyard was noisy and crowded, but he detected no cultivators among them.
“Haha—!”
At a neighboring table, a crowd had gathered, stamping, shouting, and waving their fists. On the table lay several dominoes and scattered silver pieces.
A group had nothing better to do than gamble.
In Yu Family Village, there was a rule against gambling. He remembered Yu Baoshan once being punished by their third grandfather, forced to kneel in the ancestral hall for a day and night.
Yu Ye surveyed the scene, lost in old memories.
Tianbao, spotting the gambling, was itching to join. Once he’d eaten and drunk his fill, he put down his bowl, laughed heartily, and made his way over.
“Damn it, let me have a go!”
Ren Liang was not to be left behind, eager to join in.
The gamblers, caught up in excitement, refused to yield, no matter how the brothers pushed and shoved.
Growing impatient, Tianbao grabbed a man and tossed him aside, forcing his way into the group, slapping a piece of silver on the table, and shouting, “I’m in, turn the tiles...!”
A clatter sounded—
...
While Tianbao was busy gambling, the man he’d flung aside toppled a stool and crashed into Yu Ye’s table.
Yu Ye quickly steadied the table and helped the man up.
But the man he helped became furious, stamping his feet and shouting, “Who are you to meddle? I just won a round...” Before he could finish, he spun around and barked, “Let go, boy—”
Yu Ye released him, slightly taken aback.
This irate gambler was an old man, gray-haired but still steeped in the vices of the martial world.
At his age, he still wandered the jianghu?
Indeed, a true veteran!
The old-timer elbowed his way back into the crowd, but Yu Ye worried for him. The elder’s temper was fierce, and Tianbao was no pushover—if a fight broke out, the old man’s frail frame might not withstand the blows.
But contrary to expectation, the old man plunged in, only to emerge again moments later, clutching two reclaimed silver pieces, grinning with satisfaction. “Not bad luck tonight!”
Yu Ye could only shake his head.
Not only a gambler, but greedy as well!
“Bring wine—!”
The old man did not leave but dragged over a stool and sat beside Yu Ye, calling for him. Yu Ye, hat brim low, ignored him. The old man simply snatched the wine jar, glaring. “No respect for your elders! Young people have no sense!”
He scolded like a senior chiding a junior! Not only did he seize the wine, but now he was playing the elder—on what grounds?
Yu Ye glanced up.
The old man glared back, slapping the knife at his waist—a small blade, good for slicing meat but hardly intimidating.
“Heh!”
Yu Ye couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head. “At your age, why carry on so?”
“Hmph!” the old man retorted. “Haven’t you heard? ‘A cup of wine for a thousand autumns; the jianghu never grows old for those who remain.’ What do you know? Mind your own business!” Tucking the wine beneath his arm, he strode away, soon finding another table to eat and drink.
Left alone, Yu Ye surveyed the raucous courtyard, propped a foot on his bench, and drained the last half-bowl of wine.
“Ah—”
He didn’t suppress the wine’s heat; it burned through his chest, and as he exhaled, a strange exhilaration settled in his spirit.
He set down his bowl, savoring the sensation.
Though he felt an inexplicable pleasure, the taste of wine still eluded him. But the elder’s words lingered, stirring his thoughts.
A cup of wine for a thousand autumns; the jianghu never grows old for those who remain...
“Damn it, you’ve got some nerve—”
At that moment, Tianbao began arguing with someone. He grabbed a wiry fellow, pulling a domino from his sleeve and showing it to all, “Brothers, look! This man is cheating—” The other man wrenched free, drew a knife and lunged at Tianbao’s chest, cursing, “Keep meddling and I’ll kill you!”
Tianbao, caught off guard, had no time to dodge. Ren Liang, quick as lightning, snatched the knife and drove it into the wiry man’s shoulder. The man shrieked, staggered back, and yanked the bloody blade free.
At the same time, three more men rushed over with knives.
The other gamblers, sensing danger, quickly retreated.
In an instant, the wiry man and his companions had Tianbao and Ren Liang surrounded. The brothers drew their own short blades, refusing to back down.
...
More martial men gathered to watch, some even setting out stools, wine in hand, eager for the coming bloodshed.
The wiry man, clutching his shoulder, spat, “Pah—”
His three companions understood immediately, raising their blades and charging forward.
Tianbao and Ren Liang stood back to back, faces tense. Outnumbered and armed only with short knives, they seemed destined to suffer.
Just as the deadly fight seemed inevitable, a voice called out:
“Stop!”
The words were softly spoken, but brooked no resistance.
The three attackers, their blood up, ignored it—until a shrill cry split the air:
“Stop!”
This time, not only the attackers, but the brothers and everyone present stared in surprise.
The wiry man stood frozen, a sword at his throat. Pale with terror, he shouted, “Brothers, stop!”
The sword’s wielder was a man in a broad-brimmed hat, standing silently behind him, the blade gleaming coldly.
The three attackers exchanged uneasy glances, then withdrew their weapons.
The man in the hat lowered his sword.
The wiry man quickly stepped aside, glanced back fearfully, and saw only the hat and the sheathed sword. Nodding silently, he beckoned his companions away.
“Well, that was dull!”
“Damn, they didn’t even fight—”
“Come on, let’s drink!”
Disappointed by the anticlimax, the crowd dispersed.
But Tianbao and Ren Liang were elated, dragging the hat-wearing man back to their table.
“Brother Yu, you’re true to your word!”
“In a pinch, a brother who risks all—that’s what it means to have someone at your back!”
“If only we’d brought our long knives from the room, we’d have shown them! Cheating at gambling—what a disgrace. Brother Yu, how did you get behind them unseen...?”
“Brother, let’s drink a toast to Yu!”
“As we should—hey, where’s the wine jar...?”
The martial men continued their revelry in the courtyard, but as night deepened, they finally drifted away in twos and threes, leaving the inn behind.
Yu Ye and the brothers returned to their room to gather their things, then slipped out into the night, leaving their horses at the inn.
It was said the mountain paths ahead were too treacherous for horses; they would have to go on foot.
Outside, a bright moon hung overhead. Its pale light draped the distant mountains, casting the world in a hazy glow.
Yu Ye gazed up at the moon, then back at the small town nestled at the mountain’s foot by the rushing river.
From the various inns in town, groups of shadowy figures began to emerge, one after another...