Volume One – The Frontier State of Chen, The Marquis Against Fate Chapter 1: Chen Yu, the Marquis Defying Destiny

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The rushing green waters shivered in the wind,
And the persistent evening rain dampened the flowers’ faces.
Along the riverbank, the croaking of frogs seeped into the ears,
While a solitary sail, forlorn, drifted—a sorrowful traveler.

...

“Master, just ahead lies Blackwind Pass.” On the sailboat, an elder with graying hair nervously alerted the man beside him.

The man nodded slightly, offering no further words. Though in his fifties, the traces of hardship and sorrow were etched deeply upon his face.

“Master, rest assured, we will be safe,” said the old man. Yet anyone could hear the hollowness in his reassurance—it was as much to soothe himself as his master.

“Pass the word—everyone must be cautious,” the man sighed. Since they had come this far, they could only hope for heaven’s mercy.

Besides the two of them, more than a dozen others were aboard, including ten robust men whose bearing marked them as skilled guards. Yet even with such protection, none dared breathe loudly before Blackwind Pass, as if fearful of provoking some lurking threat.

Blackwind Pass was a border town of the Chen Kingdom. Backed by the Heaven’s End Mountains, its east and west flanks hemmed in by dense forests and lofty peaks, with the Greenwoods River surging past its gates.

Though the city was guarded by natural barriers, its remoteness from the capital had long turned it into a den of bandits. Even officials in the town colluded with the outlaws, engaging in murder and plunder.

No merchant caravan would ever pass through here unless desperation left them no other route.

Now, on the Greenwoods River, the solitary merchant vessel was conspicuously vulnerable.

Despite their utmost caution, as expected, they could not evade the packs of wolves lurking in these mountains.

Hoo—hoo—the signal calls of bandits echoed from both banks, their voices moving back and forth, leaving everyone on the merchant ship trembling with fear.

So, there was no escaping after all, the man called master sighed helplessly. Still, he forced down his terror, drew a deep breath, and called out, “Heroes, the road is long and treacherous, and we are all travelers in this world. I am prepared to offer ten thousand taels of silver in tribute, hoping you might show some mercy. What say you?”

“Hahaha…” Through the misty drizzle, several small boats appeared, and from one, a man laughed, “Master, passing through here, ten thousand taels won’t suffice.”

The merchant’s face grew grave. “Then, what do you require?”

“Leave the ship and the cargo. You may depart unharmed. Kehaha…”

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“This…” The merchant’s face turned ashen. He clenched his fists, still wanting to negotiate. But then he heard the bandit shout elsewhere, “Old Flathead, am I right?”

“Haha… Such a fat sheep comes so rarely—how could we let it go?” Old Flathead cackled coldly. “Why bother with all this chatter? Kill them and be done with it!”

“Well said!” another voice called from behind the merchant caravan.

“Looks like there won’t be much to divide this time,” the first bandit remarked helplessly.

“Master…” The old man on the ship collapsed in terror, his eyes wide with fear. Even the ten guards looked no better—their hands on their blades trembled uncontrollably.

The merchant himself was utterly at a loss. Never had he imagined that, on this stretch of the Greenwoods at Blackwind Pass, he would be surrounded by three bands of outlaws. His heart burned with bitter regret: I should never have come this way. Is fate truly intent on destroying me?

As if in answer to his despair, shouts, the clash of blades, screams, and splashes erupted.

In less than half a cup of tea’s time, the merchant vessel was under the control of the three groups of bandits.

But just as all hope seemed lost, the sound of galloping horses burst from the shore, followed by two piercing arrows slicing through the air.

The first to react were the leaders of the three bandit groups. They looked at each other in confusion—who could it be?

“Boss, there are ropes tied to the arrows!”

“Who are you, friend? Show yourself!” the chief called out in a deep voice.

Before a reply could come, all on the merchant ship saw two figures striding swiftly along the ropes toward the vessel.

“Who are you?” the three leaders demanded, frowning. “Such skillful lightness technique.”

“I am—”

Before he had finished, one of the two newcomers flashed his sword and, in a blink, beheaded a leader, ending his life.

Blood spurted high in the dusk—a ghastly sight.

“Boss!”

“How dare you—”

The bandits wavered, but years of living by the blade hardened their resolve. Their faces twisted with cruelty as they snarled, “Kill them and avenge the boss!”

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Whoosh, whoosh—several more sharp arrows flew from the riverbank, instantly cutting down several bandits.

“Ah, they truly can’t withstand a single blow,” came a youthful voice.

Now, those aboard the merchant ship could finally see their rescuers clearly.

Who would have thought that their saviors were two young men, barely past boyhood? Yet these two, imposing and spirited, showed not a trace of panic amid the carnage; from start to finish, they remained composed and at ease.

“Who are you, really?” Old Flathead demanded in a low voice. “There are no such figures by Blackwind Pass.”

“Blackwind Pass?” the taller youth sneered. “A place so insignificant, it’s not worth mentioning.”

“You—”

“Heh…” Just then, another young voice called from the riverbank, “Big brother, second brother, finish up quickly! This isn’t why we came.”

The two young men exchanged helpless shrugs and laughed, “Third brother, you Marquis, you do know how to order people about.”

Though they joked, their actions were merciless.

Beneath the evening rain, their swordplay was chillingly precise. The two figures moved across the merchant ship like phantoms, and the bandits had no chance to resist before their lives were snuffed out.

In barely ten breaths, the deck was cleared of bandits.

The merchant, his mind a blank from terror, watched the scene unfold. Only when the two youths were about to cross back to the riverbank on the arrow-ropes did he come to his senses.

Struggling to his feet, he cupped his hands in salute and said, “I am Lu De. My deepest thanks to you, young heroes, for your rescue.”

The two young men exchanged a glance and smiled. “Think nothing of it! When injustice appears, we draw our swords. There’s no need for thanks, Master Lu.”

“May I ask your names? I dare not forget my benefactors.”

“Our names?” The two paused, then smiled knowingly and replied in unison, “Lords of Blackwind Pass, rebels of the Chen Kingdom—Chen Yu.”

With those words, and before the merchant could react, they had already vanished into the evening rain.