Qin Family Stronghold, Yun Prefecture

Tang Xuan and his four companions arrived at the small island where the Fragrant Pavilion was located.

Just as the Melodious Zither Cottage was the residence Murong had arranged for A’bi, the Fragrant Pavilion was the island Murong had designated for A’zhu.

“Wait, something isn’t right,” A’zhu exclaimed in surprise the moment they set foot on the island.

A’bi nodded in agreement and said, “Hmm? Why are there so many lights?”

All around the island, the rooms were aglow with lanterns, lively as though it were the Lantern Festival. While A’zhu would sometimes have lamps lit in her pavilion, never had there been so many at once!

A’zhu said, “There might be intruders in my house.”

Tang Xuan smiled. “It’s all right, let’s go take a look.”

With Young Master Tang at her side, A’zhu felt reassured. His martial arts skills were already on par with her own family’s young master, Murong Fu. In the martial world, how many could match such prowess? That formidable monk, Jiumozhi, whom they’d encountered before, was a rare master indeed. Besides, her half-brother Duan Yu was with them. With both her brother and Tang Xuan joining forces, they’d been able to drive back even Jiumozhi; the world was vast, and they could go anywhere.

The five of them headed toward the main hall. There, the hall was ablaze with light. Rough, burly men were feasting and drinking with abandon. Cups and plates were scattered across the tables, chairs toppled haphazardly to the floor. Some men sat directly atop the tables, others tore into chicken legs and pork knuckles with their bare hands. Some brandished long knives, spearing chunks of beef from the platters and bringing them straight to their mouths.

The arrival of Tang Xuan and his companions immediately drew the attention of the crowd.

“Who’s there?”

The men surged forward, surrounding Tang Xuan and the others. Judging by their movements and weaponry, it was clear they were martial artists. Ordinary folk would never dare trespass into Murong’s Fragrant Pavilion.

“Who are you people?” the crowd demanded, encircling Tang Xuan and his party.

As their leader, Tang Xuan stepped forward with a slight smile and, instead of answering, asked, “Who is in charge here?”

Everyone paused, turning their gazes to an elderly man. Someone called out, “Chief Yao!”

The old man was tall and powerfully built, his beard white and flowing down to his chest. He took two steps forward and said, “I am Chief Yao of the Qin Family Stronghold in Yunzhou—Yao Botang.”

Chief of the Qin Family Stronghold?

Tang Xuan raised an eyebrow. The first blade technique he ever learned, the Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade, was the signature art of this very stronghold. Back then, the second-grade version he had learned was merely a fragment, providing only the basic swordplay. Later, the third-grade version included all but seven of the original sixty-four moves, as some had been lost to time.

Now, the Qin Family Stronghold’s signature art was still the third-grade version missing seven moves, yet it remained an exceptional blade technique. After Tang Xuan defeated the Five Fiends of Chuanzhou, he received a reward from the game system, restoring the missing seven moves and completing the full version of the Four Styles Blade Technique—the complete Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade, superior even to the third-grade version.

Seeing Chief Yao reminded Tang Xuan of this connection. He couldn’t help but smile. “The most renowned martial art of the Qin Family Stronghold in Yunzhou is the Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade. Years ago, the elder Qin Gongwang created sixty-four moves for this blade technique, but five were lost by later generations, and only fifty-seven moves remain. Chief Yao, how many of the moves have you mastered?”

Yao Botang was greatly startled and blurted out, “The Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade of our Qin Family Stronghold originally had sixty-four moves. How do you know this?”

Tang Xuan smiled. “The missing seven moves were first White Tiger Leaps the Ravine, Roar Stirring the Wind, Swift and Sure, Sovereign Over the Mountains, and Elephant Subdues Lion. By the time it was passed down to your master’s generation, two more—Carrying the Son Across the River and Uphold Honor with Integrity—were lost as well. Isn’t that so?”

Chief Yao was shocked—how could this man know so much? The five moves lost in earlier times were one thing, but even the two more recent losses, known only to his master’s generation, were a closely guarded secret. Even within the stronghold, most only knew a few moves were missing without knowing exactly which ones; only the chief himself was privy to such details.

Chief Yao eyed Tang Xuan, astonished and suspicious.

“Are you Murong Fu?” someone in the crowd asked.

It was rumored that the Murong family was versed in the martial arts of all schools. This young man’s intimate knowledge of the Qin Family Stronghold’s signature technique was astonishing and made the crowd uneasy.

Recently, word had spread throughout the martial world that many experts had died by their own signature techniques, fueling suspicions that Murong Fu, infamous for “using the enemy’s own skills against them,” was behind it.

The most notable among the victims was Ma Dayuan, deputy chief of the Beggars’ Sect in the East, slain by his own famed Throat-Locking Seizing Skill. The Beggars’ Sect counted tens of thousands of members and had been led by the likes of Hong Qigong, Qiao Feng, and Huang Rong—heroes whose very names shook the land. The death of Ma Dayuan alone was enough to keep Murong Fu in dire straits.

And many more had died by their own signature arts as well.

Yao Botang and the others had heard that Murong Fu was overwhelmed and away on urgent matters. Seizing the opportunity, they’d come to Swallow’s Nest in Gusu, hoping to fish in troubled waters and perhaps gain some benefit. It was well known that the Murong family’s collection of martial arts manuals was vast.

Yet now, ‘Murong Fu’ had apparently returned instead of being away—and this left Yao Botang and his men alarmed and hesitant.

But then, a man in his thirties, with a mocking tone, said, “Murong Fu is already over thirty years old. This lad looks little more than twenty. Don’t let him fool you!”

The crowd, hearing this, agreed and eyed Tang Xuan with renewed suspicion.

Tang Xuan said dryly, “When did I ever claim to be Murong Fu?”

At this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. As long as he wasn’t Murong Fu, it was fine. The reputations of Qiao Feng of the North and Murong of the South were legendary and terrifying. No matter how skilled this young man might be, how powerful could someone so young truly be? His knowledge of the Five Tigers Gate-Cleaving Blade might simply be luck.

The five newcomers were all young men and women.

Chief Yao relaxed as well. “Young sir, what is your connection to the Murong family?”

Tang Xuan replied calmly, “I am Tang Xuan, a lay disciple of Shaolin, not of the Murong family. Will you leave on your own, or shall I show you out?”

He was in no mood for pleasantries; best to deal with these people swiftly and get some rest.

Hearing that he wasn’t from the Murong family but merely a lay disciple of Shaolin, the crowd relaxed. Shaolin’s lay disciples were many, but aside from the peerless Qiao Feng, none had ever produced a true hero. After all, Shaolin’s supreme martial arts were reserved for ordained monks, never easily taught to lay disciples. The most famous among them was probably Du Dajin, chief escort of the Dragon Gate Escort Agency, known as the “Many-Armed Bear”—a second-rate expert at best.

But Tang Xuan’s blunt order for them to leave infuriated the crowd.

“How arrogant!”

“Let’s get them all! Capture them and interrogate them!”