Chapter 62: Grain Transport Gang’s Chen Jiu, Dragon Subduing Divine Firmament
During the few days Hong Yuan stayed at Wuding Sword Sect to seek martial arts instruction from Qing Songzi and Qing Lingzi, news of his appearance in Qingping County had already spread like wildfire, racing outward like a gale.
Linjiang Prefecture was abuzz, as forces great and small from Qingping County and the neighboring counties—whether renowned sects and gangs or bandit groups, and even scattered martial artists—all surged into action, rushing over with utmost speed.
Many speculated that the fierce person Hong Yuan had been forced to flee far away by the sky-high bounty and was about to hole up in Xingqing Prefecture.
The more astute ones did not bother hunting his whereabouts but directly blocked the major routes to Xingqing Prefecture, setting up lookouts at high vantage points, lying in wait like hunters by a stump, just waiting for him to fall into the net.
Even martial artists from Xingqing Prefecture heard the news and came rushing, equally drooling over that fortune of one hundred thousand taels, sharpening their blades with murderous intent.
Splash! Splash!
River waves churned up clear ripples, fierce winds whipped about, as a Grain Transport Boat cleaved through the waves on the Jade Belt River, speeding along.
A youth with sharp, angular features, bronze skin, and an air of rugged ferocity stood tall at the bow, gazing into the distance.
His eyes and brows were sharp like a hawk or falcon, with a Dragon Pattern Hook-Spear adorned in red gold embedded in the deck beside him, within easy reach.
Screech!
A piercing eagle cry rent the sky, as a dark shadow circled above the large ship before suddenly diving down toward the mast.
Atop the mast.
On the crow’s nest several zhang high, a sturdy bare-chested man already lifted his head, allowing the sharp eagle claws to land on his shoulder.
He retrieved a slender bamboo tube from between the eagle’s claws, then pulled a large chunk of red meat from his waist pouch and hurled it into the air.
The soaring eagle screeched once, flapped away, clutching the red meat as it climbed into the high sky.
The bare-chested man gripped the mast, descending with agility surpassing even a monkey’s in just a few moves, then dashed to the deck, presenting the bamboo tube as he bowed to the rugged youth: “Ninth Master, news has come back!”
This bare-chested man was from the Grain Transport Gang. Though twice the age of the rugged youth, his face was full of deference and awe.
This rugged youth was named Chen Jiulang, one of the Flag Masters of the Grain Transport Gang’s River Patrol Flag.
Not only did he hold a high position, but his martial arts were also profound and unfathomable, making him a leading figure among the Grain Transport Gang’s young and vigorous generation.
With Jin San dead, one seat among the Grain Transport Gang’s six Heads was vacant, and the Great Leader had declared that whoever avenged Jin San could take the position.
Chen Jiulang had become one of the top contenders.
“Just say it—has that red goods already fled Linjiang Prefecture?” Chen Jiulang did not turn his head, his brows slightly furrowed, blazing ambition in his eyes.
Even if the target fled to another region, he would pursue and kill him, using his head to pave his own path to promotion.
The bare-chested man opened the bamboo tube, took out the wrapped paper note, unfolded it, and quickly said: “No! That person vanished for a few days, then reappeared in Qingping County, fought two battles, and injured or killed dozens, including ‘Gale Blade’ Miao Zhijian, ‘Black Fiend Woodsman’ Zheng Biao, Whiskered Ghost… and others…”
“Nicknames more intimidating than the last, yet all just a bunch of dim sum weaklings.” Chen Jiulang waved his hand, a disdainful smile on his lips: “I’m not interested in the names of the dead… Looks like this red goods tried to escape but got blocked back. Perfect—that saves me a lot of trouble.”
“Where is he now?”
The bare-chested man hurriedly said: “After Hong Yuan killed those people, he slipped out of Qingping County into the neighboring county. Somehow he then provoked three local gangs and even clashed with a renowned expert, before vanishing again. His exact location hasn’t been scouted yet…”
Chen Jiulang reached out and gripped the nearby Dragon Pattern Hook-Spear, saying flatly: “Get all the lookouts there moving, keep searching for me, and then… speed up, hurry over!”
Mingzhou, Pingkang County.
Amid mist-shrouded green peaks, halfway up the mountainside, a stone pavilion faintly appeared.
Inside the stone pavilion stood a youth of twenty-five or twenty-six, his features refined like a painting, simply clad in a moon-white Daoist robe, hands clasped behind his back.
The Young Daoist had a cold, aloof demeanor, distant and noble from everyone, his gaze lowered toward the sea of clouds, as if admiring the poetic scenery.
Behind the Young Daoist stood a portly middle-aged man with hands at his sides, expression stern and immobile—it was none other than Mr. Cui.
After a long while, the Young Daoist seemed to lose interest, withdrew his gaze, and chuckled lightly: “I thought Tiger Subduing Sect had declined to such a state that it was all name without substance, but unexpectedly, another young tiger has emerged!”
He slowly turned his head, smiling as he looked at Mr. Cui: “Cui Ming, what do you think?”
Cold sweat beaded on Cui Ming’s forehead, his legs buckled as if to kneel, but the Young Daoist waved him off: “Don’t kneel. You know I don’t like others kneeling to me. People kneel to me either seeking something or having wronged me. Which are you?”
Cui Ming hurriedly said: “This subordinate has failed in his duties—please punish me, Young Master Shenxiao!”
He gnashed his teeth, saying hatefully: “Now it seems Meng Yue was most likely killed by that Hong kid. That boy’s martial arts were probably already extremely high at the time, just deeply concealed, fooling Meng Yue.”
These two were from Dragon Subduing Sect. The Young Daoist was named Zhang Shenxiao, the final disciple taken by that True Man Zhang of Dragon Subduing Sect.
Originally an abandoned infant, he had been adopted and raised by True Man Zhang, who nurtured him with utmost care.
“What do you resent?” Zhang Shenxiao shook his head and smiled faintly: “We schemed for Tiger Subduing Sect’s secret transmission but failed, and died by their hand—it’s merely skill inferior to others. Don’t act like a loser’s barking.”
“I wasn’t truly interested in the so-called Tiger Subduing secret transmission. It was only Master’s lifelong obsession, so I instructed you and Meng Yue to seek it out.”
Zhang Shenxiao said calmly: “For me, obtaining it or not doesn’t matter. If I truly wanted it, three years ago at the Qionghua Gathering, I could have easily defeated the second son of the Yang family with one move, naturally winning the three-battle agreement.”
He sighed lightly again, musing: “But three years ago, I couldn’t act either. My kung fu wasn’t fully formed yet. If I had revealed my skills, I would have stood out like a tree in a forest, and the wind would come to break me.”
As he spoke, a clear breeze blew in, lifting Zhang Shenxiao’s Daoist robe. Cui Ming faintly heard crane cries and dragon roars from within his body, leaving him agape as if beholding a celestial descended to earth.
“In ancient times, the Dragon Tiger Patriarch comprehended the Dragon Tiger Grand Momentum. How could I, Zhang Shenxiao, be inferior? I too have grasped the ‘Crane Soaring Dragon Seizing’ technique. Though not yet true skill, I no longer need to fear anyone now.”
Cui Ming trembled all over—not from fear, but from uncontainable excitement: “Young Master Shenxiao, you are truly a celestial being! With you, Dragon Subduing Sect will surely shake the world.”
Zhang Shenxiao said: “Master raised me, so returning him a supremely powerful Dragon Subduing Sect is only right.”
He turned away again, his tone indifferent: “Next year in the third month, at the Qionghua Gathering, that will be when I challenge Flower Stream Sword Sect, Vajra Temple, and Profound Ice Sect—the three great sects—to take their place. As for that Hong Yuan, let’s see if he can survive this crisis!”
“If he can, he’s worth shaping. At the Qionghua Festival, I will take him under my wing.”
As for vengeance for Meng Yue’s death, Zhang Shenxiao seemed not to know—or care—whether he remembered it.
Cui Ming did not care either.
Meng Yue had been outstanding among Dragon Subduing Sect disciples, but he was dead. Young Master Shenxiao and Dragon Subduing Sect’s grand enterprise would inevitably need a cadre of capable subordinates in the future.
Meanwhile, on the surging Jade Belt River in Linjiang Prefecture, a booming crash rang out as a wave slammed into the green stones on the shore, exploding into a spray of water.
A black-canopied boat rocked unsteadily on the river surface. Hong Yuan sat in the cabin and suddenly opened his eyes, looking outward.
Splash!
Fierce winds whipped up, a massive iron chain blocking the river. Dozens of fast boats swarmed out, obstructing the river channel, then surged from both sides at a shout, swiftly encircling Hong Yuan’s black-canopied boat.
A thunderous voice boomed, accompanied by wild, rampant laughter.
“This one hundred thousand taels of silver snowflakes—River-Mixing Dragon Society claims it!”
