Chapter 213: Beggars’ Sect and Demonic Cult, a Fierce Battle
The lake water and the clear moonlight reflected each other, like a jade mirror on a jade field, just as the poem says, “Gazing at the green mountains and waters of Dongting, a single green snail in a silver plate.”
Under the moon, the three of them clinked glasses. Zhou Yan mediated from the side, and the sharp confrontation between Liu Qingzhou and the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo gradually lessened.
“Brother Zhou and I hit it off immediately, and as I happen to be free, I’ll accompany you to Poyang Lake.”
“How can that be?”
“That’s not right. I regretted not accompanying you to Iron Palm Mountain that day. Now that I see Brother Zhou venturing into the demonic lair, how can I stand by and watch?”
Liu Qingzhou changed the subject and said to the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo, “You can rest and recuperate in Dongting Lake. After I’ve fought with the demonic cult’s evildoers, I’ll come find you.”
The Fishing Old Man of Yanbo was furious, “If you can go to Poyang Lake, can’t I? I’ll accompany you.”
“We’ll see.”
Zhou Yan inwardly scoffed. Going to the waters of Poyang Lake with the assistance of the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo would indeed save a lot of trouble. The key was to rescue the High Monk from India, and perhaps he could also ask him to catch a few golden dolls.
Liu Qingzhou asked Zhou Yan again, “Was there any danger when you went to Iron Palm Mountain?”
“Not really, but I did discover something.”
“Tell me about it.”
The stars and moon were bright, the Milky Way in the sky. The three drank, their voices echoing.
“The Jin Dynasty Crown Prince visited Qiu Qianren, the Gang Leader of the Iron Palm Sect, and they had a very pleasant conversation.”
“That scoundrel has defected to the Jin Dynasty?” Liu Qingzhou was shocked.
“Yes.”
“The Iron Palm Sect is powerful and has many connections with local officials. If the Jin Dynasty were to march south, taking Xiang would be as easy as picking up a piece of grass. The Jin Dynasty has wolfish ambitions. Qiu Qianren has truly been blinded by greed to do such a despicable thing.”
The Fishing Old Man of Yanbo said, “You still have a fiery spirit, kid.”
“If the Jin dogs attack Xiang, I bet you and I will see who cuts down more heads. Do you dare?”
“Why not?”
“Let’s drink.” Zhou Yan raised his wine bowl, and the three drank it down in one gulp. He said, “The Iron Palm Sect will surely make a move. Brother Liu, you should also take some precautions on the Hengshan Sect’s side.”
“I understand. Thank you, Brother Zhou, for telling me this.”
“We hit it off immediately, no need to be polite.”
“Brother Zhou, you need to rescue people. There’s no time to delay. Why don’t we head to Poyang Lake now and drink and watch the Yangtze River moon? Wouldn’t that be delightful?”
“Excellent.”
“Old man, what about you?”
“How could I lose to you?”
“You have courage.”
“Thank you, Brother Liu and Brother Diaosou, for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” the two replied in unison.
The Runner was overjoyed and ordered the Boatman to turn the boat around and head straight for Poyang, Jiangxi, via the river.
The journey became extremely interesting. Zhou Yan continued to discuss swordsmanship with Liu Qingzhou. Having cultivated the Jade Maiden Swordplay and the Falling Ying Divine Sword Palm, his perspective was now far beyond what it was during his trip to Hengshan. In terms of sword intent, sword momentum, and the application of force, Liu Qingzhou gained a great deal. Liu Qingzhou also spoke of the Hengshan Swordplay, and before he knew it, Zhou Yan had grasped the essence of several moves from the Returning Wind and Falling Geese Sword.
While the two discussed swordsmanship, the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo kept his distance, his fishing skills were truly superb. He could even catch Yangtze River fish from a fast-moving large boat with sails, and he wouldn’t let the Boatman or the Runner cook the fish, insisting on doing it himself.
Zhou Yan enjoyed the feast and felt that the other man was actually more like-minded with Huang Rong.
The Fishing Old Man of Yanbo often used his fishing rod as a spear, and Zhou Yan exchanged spear techniques with him. At first, the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo paid little attention, but as the conversation deepened, he was secretly surprised. He hadn’t expected that the other man’s swordsmanship was outstanding, and his spear techniques were no less inferior.
With this thought, the Fishing Old Man, who hadn’t truly conceded to Zhou Yan, began to respect him.
Upon arriving at Poyang Lake, the weather turned cold, and snow began to fall. Fine, fluffy snowflakes drifted down from the overcast sky. Zhou Yan, Liu Qingzhou, the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo, and the Runner disembarked.
The Fishing Old Man of Yanbo then noticed a jet-black spear hanging from Zhou Yan’s Night-Shining Jade Lion.
He understood. No wonder Zhou Yan had such insightful opinions on spear techniques; seeing that spear, he knew it was no ordinary weapon.
The group found an inn at the wharf and checked in. The Runner, using the opportunity to settle the horses, slipped some silver to the shop assistants and inquired if there were any mountain strongholds or sects nearby.
Money makes the world go ’round.
The inn was bustling with people, and the shop assistants, having overheard conversations, knew some information. They mentioned a water village north of Poyang Lake.
The Runner reported the news. Zhou Yan, Liu Qingzhou, and the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo hired a small boat, asked the Boatman to disembark, and the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo took the helm. The group disappeared into the vast, misty Poyang Lake, amidst the swirling snowflakes.
…
Night quietly descended upon Poyang Lake, snowflakes falling and painting the landscape in silver. The small boat cut through the snow mist and reached the northern shore.
North of the vast lake lay rolling, lush, low mountains and hills, with many rocky cliffs along the shore.
In the dim night, sparse lights flickered in the darkness.
Zhou Yan said, “I’ll go take a look.”
The Fishing Old Man of Yanbo spoke, “Let’s go together. That way, the Hengshan brat and I won’t get on each other’s nerves and start a fight, which would ruin your important business.”
Zhou Yan smiled, “Alright!”
Both were experts no less inferior to Ouyang Ke, and they were also skilled in lightness skills. Zhou Yan’s ability to resolve conflict with a single move, “Double Dragons Taking Water” from the Subduing Dragon Eighteen Palms, in Dongting Lake was due to his skillful use of force and timing. It was also related to the comparison of internal force and the expenditure of strength between the two.
Therefore, Zhou Yan had no worries about their presence being exposed.
The small boat approached the cliff face. The Runner waited on the boat. Zhou Yan took a bundle of rope and the three leaped ashore.
The cliff was about six zhang high. Zhou Yan tied a secure knot at one end of the rope and was about to look for a suitable tree or jagged rock to throw the rope when the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo said, “No need for such trouble.”
He took the rope from Zhou Yan’s hand, coiled it on his shoulder, and with a forward dash, his toes touched the ground, and he leaped over two zhang high. In mid-air, he swung his fishing rod, and the golden hook, with its line, flew to the top of the cliff, hooking onto the trunk of a large tree.
Zhou Yan watched as the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo lightly tapped the cliff face with his feet, and he swung upwards like a hooked fish.
“This weapon is quite useful,” he said to Liu Qingzhou.
“Indeed, climbing cliffs is like walking on level ground.”
The Fishing Old Man of Yanbo landed and threw down the rope. Zhou Yan, holding the rope, ascended the cliff with ease, followed by Liu Qingzhou.
In the wind and snow, three figures drifted, appearing and disappearing occasionally, their gray and white trails extending towards an arrow tower not far away, used for observation and lookout.
Zhou Yan’s idea was simple: capture someone and interrogate them.
If this place was just an ordinary water village, they would leave immediately.
Liang Xiaowu and the Indian Monk were imprisoned here. They would storm the village and rescue them.
…
A strong wind swept up the snow, and exhaled breath turned into cold frost.
The men on the two zhang-high arrow towers, holding their spears, rubbed their hands in the cold.
A faint sound of crushing snow came from behind them. Before they could react, the men felt their bodies go numb and they slumped down.
Zhou Yan carried one of the men and leaped down from the arrow tower. With a few quick movements, he disappeared into the forest. He rejoined Liu Qingzhou and the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo and said to the man whose acupoints had been sealed, “Answer a few questions, cooperate. You don’t need to say anything else, right?”
The man nodded in fear, understanding Zhou Yan’s meaning.
He unsealed his acupoints and asked, “Is there an Indian Monk in the water village?”
“Yes,” the man immediately replied.
“And those with the Indian Monk?”
“Four or five people are imprisoned in the village.”
Zhou Yan’s expression turned cold. There had been casualties.
“Which faction are you from?”
The man hesitated.
The Fishing Old Man of Yanbo smiled sinisterly, shaking his fishhook and line, “Believe it or not, I’ll sew your mouth shut with this hook, and you’ll never be able to speak again.”
“The Poyang Lake Branch of the Holy Cult.”
“Who is the Cult Leader?” The Fishing Old Man of Yanbo, not knowing Zhang Sanqiang, asked.
“Cult Leader Yu.”
Zhou Yan was stunned. Cult Leader Yu? Not Zhang Sanqiang?
“Be more specific.”
“It’s Cult Leader Yu. I haven’t seen the Cult Leader personally,” the man explained hastily.
“How many people are in the mountain stronghold, and who is in charge?”
“Over seven hundred people. The Hall Master is Cheng Hu.”
The information they needed to collect was mostly gathered. To further investigate why the Ming Cult Leader had become someone named Yu, and where Zhang Sanqiang had gone, they would need to interrogate the Hall Master of this branch.
Zhou Yan brought his sword down, knocking the man unconscious. He then led Liu Qingzhou and the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo straight to the meeting hall of the water village, as informed by the man.
…
The simple meeting hall was brightly lit. In the center, a brazier burned with vigorous charcoal.
A burly man sat in the center, wearing a beast-skin jacket. Six people were on either side, drinking and eating meat around the brazier.
Cheng Hu was in high spirits. They had robbed an escort team the previous day, and the medicinal herbs and leather goods had been sold for at least tens of thousands of taels. This meant they could recruit soldiers and buy horses.
A Big Man raised his wine bowl and said, “That Indian Monk’s medical skill is truly superb. In the past, we would have lost at least half of our brothers injured during this escort robbery. Now, they can all be treated.”
Cheng Hu laughed, “He has the ability to bring the dead back to life, but he’s too stubborn and refuses to join us, still demanding we release him.”
“Hall Master, what about those few people?”
Cheng Hu smiled sinisterly, “Of course, we’ll kill them. Would we let them go and risk them leaking information?”
“What about the Monk? We need to question him.”
“Just say that the person we released has already left the water village.”
“Hall Master, you are wise.”
“Drink!” Cheng Hu raised his bowl and drank heartily, wiping a trace of wine from his lips. He said, “The weather is getting increasingly severe. Many famine victims fleeing the war will come south. We can take this opportunity to gather some people, and then we’ll settle the score with the Beggars’ Sect.”
“Exactly! We suffered a loss last time, and this revenge must be exacted. With the Holy Cult, there is no Beggars’ Sect!” a Big Man shouted.
Fine snowflakes swirled in through the gaps in the window. On the other side of the snow, Zhou Yan, hidden in the shadows under the eaves, understood. The Runner had said that when Liang Xiaowu and the High Monk from India encountered them, most of their men were injured. Xiaowu’s incident happened right after the Beggars’ Sect Conference in Yueyang. The Ming Cult and the Beggars’ Sect had conflicts, and Cheng Hu’s group had been defeated by the Beggars’ Sect.
Zhou Yan’s thoughts extended, and he thought of the Heaven Sword era within the Condor Trilogy.
The Beggars’ Sect and the Ming Cult indeed had conflicts and fought each other. It seemed that the loss of the Ming Cult’s Sacred Fire Token was also related to the Beggars’ Sect.
The conflict between the sect and the cult had been long-standing.
What he was confused about was why the Ming Cult Leader had become someone named Yu.
But it didn’t matter. He would know after tonight.
Zhou Yan’s figure flickered, leaving the eaves. Liu Qingzhou and the Fishing Old Man of Yanbo followed closely.
When they reached a place where no one was around, Zhou Yan said, “Liu and I will rescue the people first. Brother Diaosou, you keep watch.”
“Alright!”
Dividing their tasks, Zhou Yan and Liu Qingzhou disappeared into the wind and snow.
…
The night was dark, and two large boats sailed on the Yangtze River waters of Jiangxi.
In a room with lights on, the Six Freaks of Jiangnan were drinking.
Guo Jing, who was heading south to Lin’an to negotiate with the court and jointly attack the Jin Dynasty, was in a meeting with Tolay, Zhebie, Borghul, Hua Zheng, and others.
The waves surged, and several fast boats approached rapidly. On those boats were Black-Clothed Big Men holding steel hooks, with Hou Haitong and Sha Tongtian among them.
