Volume Two: Bandits in These Parts Chapter 131: Prelude

The southern reaches of the Northern Domain lay in a remote corner of the world. Trade with the other three realms was hardly lively, and there had long been only two roads running through the region, both stretching beyond sight across a desolation without end.

But ever since Mount Si had established a city today, the roads carved out by marching hooves would surely multiply.

Merchants came rushing at the scent of profit. Scholars rode their horses to admire the scenery, composing verses and matching couplets along the way with tireless delight. Spies from every faction, busybodies from every land, and mountain folk seeking some way to make a living all hurried here. The crowds surged and seethed until day and night could scarcely be told apart.

They were strangers in Mount Si, arriving without warning and departing in haste.

The city was still far too new. Perhaps some people loved it; perhaps others found it hateful. Among them were weary travelers who, having run themselves ragged across the world, were willing to bring their journeys to an end and settle in this land.

No one could say whether they were good or bad, but there was certainly no mistaking that they were new rather than old.

A sheet of paper had been posted before Inkwhite City. People called it a proclamation. It read:

“Those who come from the four quarters, guests from the eight directions: let old grudges and enmities end here. Whoever wishes to become a citizen of this place need not answer for the past. Whoever would rather eat the dust of another’s household is free to leave.”

Someone read it and, for reasons unknown, sneered.

“What an arrogant boast!”

The phrase about not being called to account for the past had another meaning: once you entered Inkwhite City, no matter which enemy you had offended before, Mount Si would take up the matter on your behalf.

That was why some people sneered.

Oh, so the countless masters of the Four Realms—the bandits who burned, killed, and plundered; the martial men who forged their lives with their fists; the heroes who carried swords to defend the border—were all inferior to a single thin sheet of paper posted by Inkwhite City?

Someone refused to believe it. He insisted on seeking revenge at the city gate, only to have his head cut off by the Lord of Mount Si, who left behind a single sentence:

“Equal to them, but never inferior.”

And so the storm grew more violent. Countless people came at the news, among them even some former residents who had once departed the southern reaches of the Northern Domain.

Unable to survive here, they had traveled far from home—north, west, or east, it hardly mattered, so long as they were pursuing some glimmer of hope.

Some had achieved nothing and died along the road. Others had truly made names for themselves.

Take Xu Yannian, for instance, the foremost warrior under Lin Yuan. That old gentleman’s father had fled the southern reaches of the Northern Domain to escape a disaster.

By a twist of fate, he had ended up in the west and entered the Lin family army. Step by step, he had witnessed the glory of one of the Seven Ancient Houses return to the world.

Of course, he had experienced it all firsthand. Only after watching the great drama of life unfold did he realize how much time had slipped away—and that he had paid for it with his youth.

Fortunately, Lin Yuan was a tiger of a man, possessed of extraordinary bearing and utterly forthright about love and hatred. Anyone who had risked his life for the Lin family received his sincere respect.

The clan elders regarded such people as ants. Lin Yuan was different. He regarded them as tigers that had descended from the mountains.

Otherwise, how could he call himself the Tiger King?

…

“Young Lin, your plans back then were indeed correct. The prosperity of this past month truly hasn’t let up for a moment! This old man is thoroughly convinced. In the end, the waves behind drive on those before.”

Old Liu Qing Shan said this with a laugh, rubbing his knees. The city was simply too lively, and walking around for too long had left his old bones in poor condition.

Lin Changtian pricked up his ears. He had always loved flaunting his learning. Since Old Liu had praised him, he began considering how best to respond in a way that would make him appear cultured.

“Senior Liu, there’s another line after that.”

“I know. Each wave is stronger than the last, isn’t it?” Liu Qing Shan stroked his beard with a smile. He was in a good mood today and had decided to indulge the boy a little, letting him show off to his heart’s content.

Lin Changtian looked at him with clear, utterly sincere eyes.

“No, that’s not right. The line should be: ‘The waves ahead die upon the shore.’ So… whenever you feel you’re no longer up to the task, do let me know in advance. After all, whether we hold the banquet or not still requires your personal approval. If you happen to leave in a hurry, that’s no trouble either. Just remember to visit me in a dream.”

The old man’s smile froze on his face, and in his distraction he yanked out several of his own whiskers. Yet Liu Qing Shan did not grow angry. His expression shifted from dark to bright, and he suddenly grinned.

Excellent. He had found himself a reason to beat the brat…

Today was yet another day on which the Lord of Mount Si lost all dignity.

“Have you heard what happened in Saddle-Horse City?” Liu Qing Shan asked while beating him. His hands and mouth did not interfere with each other in the slightest. As expected of a Heaven-Commanding Realm expert—truly terrifying.

Lin Changtian hurriedly nodded, then shrank himself into a ball without delay. He was genuinely afraid of Liu Qing Shan.

He sighed and groaned while sightseeing, yet his face shone with health and happiness while beating people. The old man was truly a pervert.

“I heard that someone in Saddle-Horse City questioned the cause of Yu Wenruo’s death. Things have been raging for days, and nearly the whole Northern Domain knows about it now,” Lin Changtian said obediently, looking as docile as could be.

Liu Qing Shan stretched his back. Having enjoyed himself thoroughly, he hoisted Lin Changtian up and ended his lesson in the traditional virtue of respecting the elderly and cherishing the young.

He frowned and pondered for a long while before slowly saying, “For such an ugly affair to spread so noisily, I fear someone is fanning the flames behind the scenes.”

“You’re absolutely right. As expected of Mount Si’s greatest genius. Yu Wenruo has been dead for so long, and only now has someone remembered to dig up the old case. No matter how you look at it, it’s absurd. And the matter has even dragged out someone named Zhao Zi Leng. No one had ever heard of him before. It’s obvious that some minor figure was pushed forward to take the blame.”

Lin Changtian bent at the waist and fawned shamelessly.

Liu Qing Shan ignored him. His brows drew together more tightly, and he said irritably, “I feel terribly uneasy. I don’t know why, but I have the sense that this is a conspiracy aimed at Mount Si. There may well be quite a few ill-intentioned fellows among the travelers coming to and from Inkwhite City. To be safe, perhaps we should restrict the flow of people starting tomorrow and inspect them one by one?”

Lin Changtian spread his hands, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

He knew perfectly well that, no matter how deep this conspiracy ran, it could not harm their side.

After all, Ma Hui had leaked far too much of the so-called “Heavenly secret.” He had even given people the illusion that he was saying:

“I’m the protagonist! I can seduce any beauty and kill any enemy!”

What a pity that the fellow’s only real talent was his lust. This was not some indulgent power fantasy, after all, and naturally there would be no harem…

He stared at the sky, lost in endless reverie.

Unfortunately, Lin Changtian’s melancholy pose—his face tilted forty-five degrees toward the heavens—was so gloomy that it thoroughly annoyed Liu Qing Shan.

“This old man is laboring diligently for Mount Si’s future, racking his brains and making plans, while you’re enjoying yourself and not taking the matter seriously at all!”

The old man struck the ground hard with his cane. He was only a hair’s breadth from smashing its dark-purple wooden head into Lin Changtian’s face.

“You’re simply worrying over nothing. It’s obvious that people under Ma Hui are fighting among themselves for power, and yet you insist on taking it all upon yourself. Isn’t that just a case of persecution mania, the sort they used to talk about in the Central Continent?”

Lin Changtian curled his lip. Had anyone else spoken to him this way today, he would already have looked at them with the imperial disdain of a monarch.

Liu Qing Shan stroked his beard. His expression was solemn as he gazed at Lin Changtian for a long while. Then he closed his eyes and said with melancholy, “Boy of the Lin family, I know that several of my previous strategies have failed, and that you are no longer the fledgling who once studied beneath my wings. You have found a sky of your own and no longer listen to me as you once did. But there is one thing I will not deceive you about: those in the Heaven-Commanding Realm are in accord with heaven and earth. This occasional fluttering of the heart… is a warning from Heaven!”

As soon as he finished speaking, Liu Qing Shan shook his head, hunched his back, and turned to leave.

Lin Changtian rested his head against his hand. Naturally, he felt sorry for Liu Qing Shan, but in all fairness, what could he say?

Should he indulge the old man’s suspicions and stir up a grand commotion? Should he turn the hard-won prosperity of the city into a place where everyone lived in fear?

He could not do that.

After beating his chest and stamping his feet for a while, he decided that Liu Qing Shan was simply too superstitious and muttered under his breath, “That old man is always babbling about omens. He really has no sense of propriety.”

Their troops were strong and their horses numerous. What could possibly go wrong?

…