The Hero

Author: Lü Jianfeng

The Hero

"Where is the jianghu?"

A young man walking along the main road muttered to himself as he wiped the sweat from his face. Judging by his attire, he was a hunter—wearing a fur waistcoat in the scorching heat, carrying a longbow on his back, a quiver full of arrows, an iron spear in hand, and a cloth bundle slung diagonally across his shoulder.

"Over a month now, and not a single hero, let alone a bandit. I've seen a few petty thieves, though. Could it be that jianghu is just a legend?" the young man asked aimlessly as he walked, more to himself than anyone else.

"Young hero, is this your first time out?" a tall, lean middle-aged man nearby noticed him.

The young man nodded.

The middle-aged man asked again, "Venturing into jianghu?"

The young man nodded again, a hint of color rising to his dust-covered face.

The two struck up a conversation.

It turned out the young man's surname was Li, given name Yitian. His father was a hunter, as were several generations before him. Yitian had trained in martial arts since childhood under his father—archery and spear work—and was exceptionally gifted. By age ten, he was already joining hunts, and his share of the spoils was equal to a full-grown man's. Not because the others pitied his youth, but because Yitian truly matched any adult. On his very first hunt, he killed a great tiger. That day, everyone gathered to eat together, and the adults liked to drink. After finishing his meal, Yitian took his little iron spear to look for wild fruit nearby. He climbed a tree and was picking fruit when suddenly a thunderous roar erupted—a massive tiger with a white forehead and hanging eyes burst from the underbrush to the base of the tree. Yitian wasn't afraid. He leaped down from the branch, leveled his spear, and thrust at the tiger. The tiger, stung with pain, let out a furious roar that shook the trees and charged hard at Yitian. Unhurried, Yitian sidestepped and turned, dodging the tiger. The tiger spun around after its missed lunge, and Yitian thrust again, wounding it once more. With several more roars, the tiger hurled itself at Yitian again. After a dozen or so exchanges, the other hunters heard the commotion and rushed over, ready to help. But Yitian's father waved them off, signaling them not to rush and to let Yitian handle it himself. After a while, his father called out to aim for the tiger's eyes. With that advice, Yitian, in just a few more rounds, blinded both of the tiger's eyes. The enraged, blinded beast charged recklessly at Yitian. As luck would have it, Yitian dodged to the side, and the tiger slammed headfirst into a large tree with a tremendous crash—killing itself on impact. From then on, the young tiger-slaying hero became famous far and wide.

Yitian was sixteen this year, and his skills were unmatched within a hundred li. He could climb trees fast enough to chase monkeys, moving through the forest without touching the ground, leaping and swinging like a primate. A good archer could hit a willow leaf at a hundred paces; Yitian could shoot a sparrow's eye from a li away. Even more impressive, he could grab a fistful of arrows and fire them in rapid succession, hitting his mark every time. Once, in a demonstration, he shot down over a dozen sparrows from a single tree—the arrows flew so fast and continuously that the birds had no chance to flee, and every arrow struck an eye. With his several-dozen-jin iron spear, Yitian could spin it so fast his figure blurred and water couldn't penetrate his defense. He could be light, flicking a leaf with the spear tip without tearing it, or heavy, piercing straight through a tree trunk as thick as a man's embrace.

Since childhood, Yitian had heard all kinds of legends about jianghu—heroes weeping, swordswomen's tenderness, brothers willing to shed their blood, great heroes throwing themselves into danger for justice... Every time he heard such tales, Yitian yearned for it deeply. At thirteen, he started saving money. By sixteen, he'd finally scraped together over a dozen taels of silver. Seeing his moment had come, Yitian—who was barely literate—didn't write a letter. Instead, he found a young friend and asked him to tell his parents that he was off to roam jianghu, urging them not to worry, that he'd be back in a few years, and so on. By the time his parents learned of it, Yitian was already several hundred li away.

For the first few days out, he didn't dare stop, afraid his parents would come after him. He walked without pause, avoiding the main roads and taking mountain paths and village trails instead. Only after he'd put several hundred li behind him did Yitian finally relax. With silver in his pocket and a naturally generous disposition, he made friends everywhere at taverns and teahouses—but he never met a single martial artist. He did run into a few petty thieves, though. Everywhere he went, he asked where the great heroes were, and whenever he got a lead, he'd chase it down—only to find merchants, laborers, or outright swindlers. The most skilled among them knew only a few crude punches, hardly worth counting.

The middle-aged man was named Wang Lexi, a chief escort. His grandfather had started in the escort business, making Wang a third-generation escort master. He'd been chief for over a decade and, fortunately, had many friends, so nothing had ever gone wrong. This time, he was heading to a ceremony—the retirement celebration of the great hero Huang Xinxiong. Huang's martial arts were unmatched; he'd roamed jianghu for decades without ever tasting defeat. He embodied the spirit of Lord Mengchang, always giving money and effort when jianghu was in need. He had seven sworn brothers, each a formidable martial artist. Huang was widely seen as having the bearing of a martial alliance leader; many had tried to persuade him to take up the position and command the martial world, but he always declined, which only earned him greater respect. Huang's fame filled the land, and now past sixty, Wang—as a junior—couldn't possibly skip the event. Besides, with Huang retiring, countless heroes and masters would attend. Any martial artist would jump at the chance to see such a gathering. At that, Wang raised the cloth-wrapped bundle in his right hand that looked like a square box, indicating his gift was ready.

Yitian had wandered for over a month without meeting a single martial artist. Now, hearing of such a great hero, he grew excited at once, exclaiming over and over, "Wonderful! Wonderful!" He urged Wang to hurry along so they wouldn't miss the ceremony.

On the way, Yitian suddenly remembered he hadn't brought a gift. He had only a few bits of loose silver left—he'd been reduced to gnawing plain steamed buns to save money. He'd been planning to hunt in some remote mountains to earn a bit more, but he simply couldn't afford a proper gift. His face flushed red, and he stammered for a long while before getting his meaning across. Wang laughed heartily and told Yitian not to worry—Huang was warm-hearted and loved young heroes most of all. He'd only be delighted to see Yitian, never offended. Relieved, Yitian strode off with Wang.

Before long, they came upon a grand estate. Large red lanterns hung high at the gate, lit even in broad daylight, radiating festivity. Brick walls of green-gray stone on either side stood at least twice a man's height, adding an air of mystery. A middle-aged man came out from afar to greet them. Wang quietly introduced him as Huang's eldest son. After a round of pleasantries, Wang mentioned that Yitian had come to kowtow to Huang. Huang reached out and lifted Yitian's arms as he began to bow, exclaiming, "Young hero, no need for such formalities!" By then, Wang had finished registering his gift, and Yitian, not standing on ceremony, turned and followed Wang inside.

Through the gate and around a large screen wall lay a courtyard house. An ordinary siheyuan might have a few rooms, but this one had over a hundred baxian tables set up in the open space alone, nearly all occupied. The east and west wings seemed to have dozens of rooms, and the main hall was imposing. Through the stone gates on either side, one could see courtyard after courtyard stretching into the distance with no end in sight.

Yitian followed Wang into the main hall—a vast chamber also filled with baxian tables, a dozen or more, buzzing with noise and excitement. Toward the back center, a large crowd had gathered. Yitian squeezed through with Wang, and there, beneath the shrine, was a red sandalwood incense table laden with rare fruits and treasures. Beside it sat an old man in a taishi chair—ruddy-faced, white-haired with a long beard, dressed in white robes, carrying an air of immortal grace. Behind him stood six elders of similar age, each imposing and extraordinary. Yitian guessed the seated elder must be Huang the Great Hero, and sure enough, Wang confirmed it was Huang Xinxiong. The six behind him were his sworn brothers. On the road, Wang had explained that all of them were heroes and masters, each with their own accomplishments, and their disciples were famous heroes in their own right. Huang was even more remarkable—he had several hundred disciples and thousands of grand-disciples, though he'd long stopped teaching personally, leaving it to his sons and senior disciples. His sons and top disciples were all formidable names in jianghu; when they visited any major sect, the sect leader received them personally, while lesser sects and wandering martial artists dealt only with their underlings.

A row of young people, a dozen or more, knelt about a meter from Huang. Huang stroked his beard with his right hand and raised his left to signal them up, saying, "Please, rise quickly," without moving a muscle himself. The young people finished their three kowtows before standing. A wiry man standing nearby held a wooden tray piled with red envelopes. He handed one to each of them, and after another round of bows and thanks, the group withdrew as another batch came forward to kneel. Dozens of groups passed before it was Yitian's turn. The usher had him stand at the far left, and after he kowtowed and received his red envelope, Wang led him out to the open courtyard, where they finally found two empty seats. Dishes were already being served. Yitian opened his envelope—just a slip of paper. He couldn't read, so Wang leaned in, clicked his tongue a few times, and said it was twenty taels of silver. Only then did Yitian realize it was a banknote for twenty taels. To think—Yitian, the most skilled hunter around, had earned only a dozen-odd taels over three-plus years. Huang's generosity was staggering. Every one of those juniors who kowtowed got twenty taels. Yitian tried to calculate how much that all cost but gave up, and he could hardly dream of how Huang had come by such wealth.

Before long, the table was piled high with dishes, and everyone began introducing themselves, exchanging pleasantries and mutual admiration. Wang knew everyone, or at least everyone had heard of him, so he didn't stand on ceremony and urged the table to dig in. He casually cracked open a jar of wine, and its fragrance wafted out. A man with a drinker's nose beside him exclaimed it was fine stuff—Xinghuachun, aged at least ten years—and praised Huang's hospitality. Yitian didn't drink. The array of dishes dazzled him; most he'd never seen, let alone tasted. Having gone hungry more often than not these past days with his silver nearly gone, he didn't hold back and ate heartily until he belched before setting down his chopsticks. Only then did he take the time to look around. Everyone seated seemed to be martial artists—swords, sabers, spears, halberds, axes, battle-axes, hooks, forks, whips, maces, hammers, claws, tridents, staffs, lances, clubs, crooks, meteor hammers—all eighteen kinds of weapons were on display, and over half of them Yitian had never seen before. There were many in strange garb, monks and Daoists aplenty, and eye-catching were the handsome women with graceful figures and weapons slung across their backs, carrying a charm all their own.

At the next table, two men were chatting. Yitian pricked up his ears. Apparently, even the provincial governor had sent gifts. The abbots of Shaolin, Wudang, Emei, and other major sects had come in person, and there were even samurai from Japan. One man with a raspy voice seemed to know everyone, introducing them one by one. These people were seated in the main hall, which Yitian couldn't see, but he listened intently. The bald man next to the raspy-voiced one kept clicking his tongue in admiration, and at exciting moments, he'd rub his head with his right hand, mussing up the few hairs he had left.

By and by, night fell. The red lanterns lit all around the courtyard made it as bright as day. Wang had long finished eating and was chatting idly with Yitian when suddenly he called out, "Huang the Great Hero is coming out to toast!" Yitian followed his gaze. Huang walked out with steady, measured steps, hands clasped behind his back, followed by dozens of people—his sworn brothers and all his disciples, coming to toast the guests.

Just as Huang and his entourage reached the first table outside the hall, ready to raise their cups, a woman's wailing voice came from beyond the main gate: "Great Hero Huang, you must seek justice for me!" Huang furrowed his brow and waved to a wiry man beside him. The man hurried to the gate and led the woman—along with three men accompanying her—to Huang. The woman threw herself to her knees before Huang, while the three men gave a bow and stood behind her. Huang said gently, "Please, rise and speak." The woman remained kneeling and weeping until Huang instructed a female disciple to help her up.

Yitian saw that the woman was about sixteen, with delicate, pretty features, her eyes swollen red from crying—a pitiful sight. Huang asked what the matter was, and only then did the woman speak through her tears. It turned out she was from a nearby village, surname Wang. A local bully had taken a liking to the land their house stood on and insisted they move, offering five hundred taels of silver—a very good price. But the woman's mother felt she couldn't decide on her own, as her husband had gone far away on business and wouldn't return until mid-next year. As a woman alone, she dared not agree, no matter what was said—she'd rather die than consent, and would wait for her husband to return. By rights, the bully should have waited. But this scoundrel, in for a penny in for a pound, brought some men, dragged mother and daughter out of the house, and burned it to the ground. They got out with nothing. The bully had already built his own shop on the site and opened for business. Mother and daughter had gone to protest several times but were beaten back each time. With no recourse, neighbors helped them set up a makeshift shelter. Today, hearing that Huang was at home for his retirement ceremony, the mother was bedridden and couldn't rise, so the daughter had come alone to beg for help, crying out for Huang to see justice done. The three men with her also helped bear witness—she'd brought them along. The thin one in scholar's robes was the village schoolteacher; the burly one was an escort from nearby with some family connection to the woman's household—Wang came over and greeted him, suggesting he was an escort of some repute; the elderly one was a constable from the yamen, who said he'd investigated thoroughly and the account was true, with over a hundred villagers willing to testify.

Huang listened and flew into a rage. "Who is it?" he demanded loudly. "I will see justice done for you!" The woman hesitated, stammering without speaking. Huang roared again, "Don't be afraid! Speak up—whoever it is, I will see justice done!" By now, a dense crowd had gathered all around, and people echoed Huang's shout: "Speak! You have Great Hero Huang!" Yitian's blood ran hot too, his eyes fixed on Huang with blazing intensity, thinking to himself, This is what a true man and hero looks like.

Only then did the woman speak softly: "That man is here." Huang immediately called out for no one to leave and ordered the gates shut. After giving these instructions, he said gently to the woman, "Don't be afraid. Tell me who." Just then, Huang's eldest son suddenly spoke up: "Father, this is your great day, and the auspicious hour is nearly upon us. How about finishing the toasts and the hand-washing ceremony first, then handling this matter?" Before he could finish, Huang cut him off with a stern rebuke: "My own affairs are not urgent. The friends here will understand if I toast a little later. Dealing with a great villain cannot wait." The moment he finished, applause erupted all around—clapping that went on and on until Huang waved his hands several times for silence. Yitian clapped until his palms were bright red. Huang pressed the woman again for the name, and she raised her middle finger, pointing at a man standing behind Huang. Huang's expression shifted. He turned and pointed at the man, demanding, "You mean him?" The woman nodded fiercely, her gaze fixed on the man with murderous intensity—if looks could kill, he'd have died hundreds of times over. The schoolteacher, the escort, and the constable all nodded as well.

Huang the Hero seemed to have aged more than ten years in an instant, his body trembling slightly as he quietly asked the man, "Jie'er, did you do this?" Only then did Yitian realize this man was Huang the Hero's son. The crowd around began murmuring among themselves; those who recognized him whispered introductions—this man was Huang the Hero's youngest son, the one he doted on most. Known in the martial world as the Jade-Faced Hero, he was highly skilled in martial arts and a renowned figure of chivalry. Everyone assumed he would be the one to inherit Huang the Hero's legacy, never imagining he could do such a thing.

The Jade-Faced Hero flushed crimson and dared not utter a word. Huang the Hero grew even angrier, raising his hand to strike, but was held back by an old man in gray cloth robes beside him. Huang turned to see it was his sworn brother, the second eldest, Dongfang Zhi. The second eldest had always been his right-hand man, known in the martial world as Dongfang Zhuge. Each of the sworn brothers had their own talents—Zhuge's martial arts were certainly formidable, but his greatest strength lay in his cunning strategies. Zhuge had always served as Huang the Hero's chief advisor. It could be said that Huang's current standing owed much to this strategist's invaluable contributions.

Seeing it was his advisor, Huang the Hero scowled and barked, "Second brother, are you trying to shield this beast?"

Dongfang remained unruffled, speaking slowly and deliberately, "Elder brother, no need for such anger. I sense something amiss here. Let me ask a few questions first."

Huang the Hero stepped aside huffily, and Zhuge turned to an old man in white robes nearby, saying, "Trouble fifth brother to question this constable. Since it concerns official secrets, better to go to the inner chamber for a thorough inquiry."

The white-robed elder replied loudly, "Very well, second brother." He then gestured to the constable and led him into the inner chamber to discuss the case.

Yitian was dumbfounded. Surely not—the son of the famed Huang the Hero committing such an act? Could there be a misunderstanding? Nearby, someone whispered, "The second eldest is called Dongfang Zhuge, and the fifth is called Shangguan Golden Snake—both are first-rate minds. With the two of them working together, this is quite the show. Looks like this young lady won't get justice. Truly worthy of Huang the Hero." The words "Huang the Hero" were spoken with noticeable emphasis, tinged with resentment. Several others chimed in agreement, "Yes, the Hero." Then they were quickly silenced, scolded, "Are you tired of living? Don't you see whose territory this is? Remember, trouble comes from loose lips." The voices died down, with quiet acknowledgments of "You're right, brother." They said no more, much to Yitian's disappointment as he strained to listen.

Dongfang approached the teacher, clasped his hands in greeting, "Greetings to this master!"

The teacher hastily returned the gesture, "Greetings to you, sir!"

"I am Dongfang Zhi. May I ask your esteemed name?"

"Not worthy, not worthy. This old man is surnamed Li, given name Hexing."

Dongfang suddenly raised his voice, "Everyone, this Master Li Hexing is a teacher. Allow me to test him, lest someone be impersonating him."

The crowd responded with enthusiastic approval.

Zhuge asked loudly, "May I ask, master, why is it said that 'laying down the butcher's knife, one becomes a Buddha on the spot'?"

The crowd murmured, "Yes, why does an evildoer become a Buddha just by putting down his knife? We've heard it often but never understood. Let's hear what this master has to say." Yitian, having little education and never even hearing this phrase before, perked up his ears even more.

Master Li hesitated for a moment before replying, "I am truly ashamed to say, this old man cannot explain it clearly."

Dongfang wore a look of regret and declared loudly, "This master cannot even explain such a basic principle—it truly raises suspicion." Without further ado, he turned from the teacher to the escort, asking, "I hear you are this young lady's relative? Did you personally witness my young nephew setting the fire?"

The escort trembled with anger but had no choice but to answer, "I am her relative, and I was not present when the fire was set. But—"

Before he could finish, Dongfang cut him off, announcing loudly, "Everyone, I suspect this teacher is an impostor—he can't even answer such a simple question. And this escort, being the girl's relative, did not see who started the fire. Once we question the constable further, the matter will be clear."

Yitian found Dongfang remarkably sharp—he had gotten to the heart of the matter in no time. It seemed the Jade-Faced Hero was innocent after all, and the faint worry in Yitian's heart dissolved. Nearby, someone whispered, "Elder brother, this Dongfang Zhuge is truly formidable!" Another voice replied, "Second brother, that teacher clearly isn't a Buddhist and wouldn't study Buddhist doctrine—it's perfectly normal he wouldn't know. Dongfang Zhuge didn't ask about the hundred schools of philosophy or humanities and history, but went straight for Buddhist doctrine. Truly clever." The voice was so low that had Yitian not been right next to them, he wouldn't have caught it. After a pause, the voice continued, "Second brother, Dongfang Zhuge knew the escort was the girl's relative and immediately pinned him with suspicion. And seeing the escort bore no injuries, he couldn't have been at the scene—had he been there, he'd have tried to stop it, though he'd be no match for the Jade-Faced Hero. That old fox Dongfang lives up to his name. It seems the constable will soon clear things up—once Zhuge steps in, even what the Jade-Faced Hero did becomes something he didn't do. Impressive, impressive." Hearing this, Yitian found the analysis quite sound and couldn't help but worry for Huang the Hero again.

Just as the man finished speaking, Shangguan Golden Snake emerged with the constable and walked over to Dongfang Zhuge. Shangguan shouted, "Everyone, the constable has something to say."

The constable cleared his throat twice and said, "After discussing the case with Master Shangguan, I've found it simply impossible that Young Master Huang committed this act. It was my own foolishness and lack of thorough consideration that brought me here. Fortunately, no great harm was done. I am deeply ashamed." He then turned in circles, clasping his hands in apology.

Yitian felt instantly relieved, thinking he had made the right choice coming here—he had witnessed a true hero, one with friends across the land, drawing thousands of spectators to his retirement ceremony. This was what a true man should aspire to be.

The constable was still bowing when a faint black figure drifted swiftly toward him. Just as it reached the constable, a white figure also rushed forward. A sharp "crack" sounded, and the two separated, standing firm. The white figure was Huang the Hero; the black figure was someone Yitian had never seen—short, thin, with a somewhat shifty look, standing without any upright bearing, his face wreathed in a cunning smile. Yitian couldn't fathom how this unassuming old man possessed such incredible lightness of skill, having exchanged a palm strike with Huang the Hero without seeming at a disadvantage.

Huang the Hero demanded loudly, "May I ask, Master Ji, what do you think you're doing?"

The man beside Yitian spoke again, "It's the Divine Thief Ji Changfeng! Who would've thought Huang the Hero's retirement would draw the world's greatest thief. Second brother, Ji Changfeng is said to be nearly a hundred years old and hasn't been seen in decades—who'd expect him to show up here, looking no older than fifty or sixty?"

The thief said, "Nothing much! Just my hands itching at the sight of money." He patted a stack of paper-like items in his hand and continued, "I noticed this constable was carrying at least several hundred thousand taels in banknotes. Being a thief, my hands itch at the sight of money. I counted—forty thousand taels exactly. Hahaha!" He laughed heartily, then added, "Constables these days are quite wealthy. Though when he arrived, I couldn't tell where he had it hidden. Heh heh heh." He gave a cold laugh, his eyes darting between the constable and Huang the Hero.

The man beside Yitian remarked again, "He's the world's greatest thief—he can't be mistaken. The constable didn't have that much money when he arrived. It's likely Shangguan Golden Snake's doing. That thief's skill is terrifying—crossing that distance, trading a palm with Huang the Hero who was right there, and still lifting the banknotes off the constable. Admirable, admirable." His tone was notably respectful, unlike how he'd spoken of Dongfang Zhuge. His companion echoed with praise.

Before Huang the Hero could respond, Dongfang Zhuge came over, taking his arm and saying, "Elder brother, the auspicious hour has arrived—the hand-washing ceremony must proceed. Three witnesses couldn't prove the young master did this, and I've asked sister-in-law, who says the young master was accompanying her to the temple to burn incense at the time. This matter will be investigated by the authorities. Since no one among us did it, it's no longer our concern. The ceremony takes priority!" Huang the Hero sighed, "True enough. Let's go." He followed Dongfang Zhuge toward the inner hall, his steps appearing steady, though his expression seemed somewhat strained.

At that moment, the woman surnamed Wang wailed desperately, "Heavens above! Who will see justice done for me! Heavens above..." The teacher tried to help her up, but she lay prostrate on the ground, weeping too hard to rise. The escort, who had been standing silently behind, his face flushed with rage, suddenly strode before Huang the Hero and bellowed, "Huang the Hero! Everyone respectfully calls you a hero—is this how you conduct yourself as one?" Huang had no choice but to stop and turn to face the escort, who continued shouting, "There are over a hundred villagers who can bear witness! Wait here, everyone—I'll go fetch them right now. Then the truth will come out." He turned to leave, but Dongfang Zhuge moved with astonishing speed, blocking his path and shouting, "Stop! Do you think this is some marketplace? You come here to cause trouble and still haven't had enough? Do you think yourself so skilled in martial arts that you can keep making a scene? Come then—let Dongfang test your skills!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Dongfang threw a long punch at the escort. The escort shoved forward with both hands, crying out, "Out of my way! Out of my way! I need to find witnesses!" His hands pushed against Dongfang, who toppled backward, his body hitting the ground with a heavy thud, sending dust billowing. The crowd gasped in unison, hardly believing their eyes. Yitian was stunned too—this escort was incredibly powerful, sending the renowned Dongfang Zhuge sprawling with a casual shove. The man beside him spoke again: "Zhuge threw himself down—that escort couldn't have budged him. The escort is in for serious trouble."

Dongfang leaped up with graceful agility, but his expression was one of fury—clearly, being knocked down by the escort was a grave humiliation. Dongfang roared, "I merely tried to hold you back gently, and you tried to kill me! Had I not been sturdy, that blow would have finished me. I'll fight you to the death!" The moment he finished, Dongfang's gray figure shot toward the escort, both palms striking heavily against his chest. The escort staggered back several steps, clutching his chest with his right hand, seeming to summon every ounce of strength just to stay upright. He coughed once and spat out several mouthfuls of blood, then blood trickled from his ears and eyes. Within seconds, he collapsed to the ground—dead.

Even Yitian could see it: Dongfang Zhuge had found a pretext to kill the escort. Seeing the escort fall, Dongfang hurried over, grabbed his left wrist to check his pulse for a few seconds, then stood and announced loudly, "Everyone, this escort just tried to kill me. I panicked and struck harder than intended, killing him. You all witnessed it, didn't you?" The last question was directed at the constable, who responded, "The escort attacked first—Master Dongfang acted in self-defense. I will report the facts truthfully to the magistrate upon my return."

Seeing the escort dead, the woman surnamed Wang crawled over wailing, collapsing over his body in a faint.

The crowd erupted in uproar. Everyone could now see that Dongfang Zhuge had deliberately killed the man to prevent him from fetching witnesses. It seemed the Jade-Faced Hero was indeed guilty, and even the constable had been bought off by Shangguan Golden Snake with several hundred thousand taels. Whether Huang the Hero knew remained unclear. Most present, knowing their own martial arts were insufficient, dared not step forward, but they discussed the matter loudly, voices rising in unison to condemn Dongfang Zhuge and Shangguan Golden Snake.

Both Dongfang and Shangguan remained expressionless. Huang the Hero, however, flushed alternately red and pale as Dongfang dragged him by the arm toward the hall for the hand-washing ceremony.

At that moment, the woman surnamed Wang stirred back to consciousness. She did not wail or cry—she drew the escort's sword, pressed it to her throat, and took her own life!

The assembled heroes were caught completely off guard. Watching the woman commit suicide, a wave of hisses and jeers swept through the crowd. Even Yitian, naive as he was, understood what had truly happened. New to the martial world, Yitian had no concept of self-preservation and no idea of his own skill. He rushed forward, iron spear in hand, and called out, "Huang the Hero! Can't you see Dongfang Zhuge killed that man deliberately? You should do something about this!"

Before Huang the Hero could respond, Shangguan Golden Snake turned and shoved Yitian, sending him staggering. As he pushed, Shangguan said, "This brat doesn't know his place—showing up armed, are you plotting to murder my elder brother Huang?"

Yitian hastily replied, "No, no! Huang the Hero is a renowned hero of the martial world. I'm only asking—will Huang the Hero address this killing? Aren't you afraid it will tarnish his lifelong reputation?"

Shangguan Golden Snake sneered coldly, "Heh heh, youth truly dares to dream. You look quite skilled, coming here with that iron spear to make a scene. Enough talk—let's have a bout."

Martial artists never part with their weapons—hence the saying, "The sword lives as long as the man." Everyone present was from the martial world, most carrying weapons strapped to their backs or at their waists. Yitian's long spear was cumbersome to carry, so he had to keep it in hand at all times, even resting it beside his foot during meals.

Yitian knew Shangguan was deliberately picking a fight with him. He stared at him calmly, muttering, "Huang the Hero, will you do something about this..." Dongfang called out to Shangguan, "Fifth brother, just teach him a lesson—no need to take his life. Show him what proper conduct means."

Huang the Hero remained silent throughout. Shangguan glanced at Huang the Hero, drew his longsword, and pointed it at Yitian. "You're the junior—you make the first move."

Yitian merely looked from Huang the Hero to Shangguan, shaking his head continuously, saying nothing, making no move, his iron spear resting on the ground.

Shangguan Golden Snake grew furious. "Brat, you look down on me? Then I'll teach you a lesson myself." The words barely left his mouth before his sword thrust straight toward Yitian's left shoulder.

"Piercing Thunderbolt!" the crowd exclaimed in unison. Shangguan's sword technique had dominated the martial world for a century. The Shangguan family taught their sword arts to men only, never women, and accepted no outside disciples. The family had flourished over the years, producing hero after hero. Shangguan Golden Snake had practiced the Shangguan sword style since childhood and defeated his own father at sixteen. Naturally gifted and quick to synthesize other sword techniques, he made the Shangguan style even faster and more lethal. Rumor had it he had once defeated Wudang's sect leader, the True Man Wuwei, though neither party ever confirmed it. The Piercing Thunderbolt was one of the deadliest moves in the Shangguan repertoire—all one's strength channeled into the sword's tip, swift and heavy, having maimed countless martial artists over the years. Shangguan had opened with this very move, clearly intending to cripple Yitian's left arm.

One day, unable to do anything else, he had no choice but to flop to the ground to his right with a thud, kicking up a cloud of dust that made the crowd burst into laughter. They thought that since Yitian had been so bold as to step forward, he must possess some remarkable skill—yet here he was, dodging in such a sorry state. In truth, Yitian had never learned martial arts; what his father had taught him were common hunting techniques, hardly worth mentioning. He knew nothing of agility arts, only hunting skills. His archery was indeed formidable, but useless in close combat. His iron spear had no proper form either—hunting relied entirely on quick reflexes and raw strength, and with it he could thrust through even a tiger. This was his first time fighting a person, and his opponent was no beast, so he dared not stab. He could only drop to the ground to evade the sword.

"Ha ha ha ha," even the always stern and cold-faced Shangguan Jinshe couldn't help but laugh heartily. Pointing at Yitian, he laughed and scolded, "Why don't you get out of here!" At that moment, Chief Escort Wang also came to pull Yitian away, saying as he tugged at him, "This young brother is called Li Yitian, whom I happened to meet on the road. He's new to the martial world and doesn't know the rules. Please forgive him." Yitian shook off Chief Escort Wang's hand, walked closer to face Huang Daxia, looking as if he wouldn't leave without some explanation.

Shangguan Jinshe's face darkened, and he barked, "You're asking for death!" With that, his sword shot out. Yitian felt as if sword shadows were everywhere, with no idea how to dodge. Before he could even think, several sharp pains struck him, and blood immediately seeped from the wounds—on his neck, both shoulders, and his chest, four sword cuts in all.

"Blizzard of a Thousand Snowflakes," the crowd exclaimed in unison again. This was another famous move of Shangguan's swordplay—illusory and real intertwined, one sword seeming like ten thousand, leaving no room to evade. Yitian knew nothing of martial arts, so he was utterly helpless to dodge. Had Shangguan not intended to spare his life, a hundred Yitians would have been killed by now.

Chief Escort Wang came to pull Yitian again, but Yitian stubbornly shook off his hand once more, quietly gazing at Huang Daxia.

Shangguan Jinshe let out a long sigh, and with a tone of pity, advised, "Why throw your life away here? You're no match for me at all."

Yitian did not respond, but called out to Huang Daxia with a hint of tears in his voice, "Aren't you Huang Daxia?! Won't you do something about this?!"

Shangguan Jinshe scolded, "You're asking for death!" and raised his sword, pointing it at Yitian's brow.

At this point, several men dressed as monks and Taoists came out from the inner hall to watch. The crowd parted to let them through, and they took their places beside Huang Daxia, evidently renowned figures and elders of the martial world.

Dongfang Zhuge also let out a long sigh: "Fifth brother, do not take his life."

Chief Escort Wang urged loudly, "If you don't leave now, you'll die!" After a moment, he called out again, "Don't you have your iron spear?"

Hearing this, Yitian slowly leveled his iron spear, pointing it at Shangguan Jinshe.

Shangguan Jinshe sneered, "You're asking for death!"

Once again, he unleashed the Blizzard of a Thousand Snowflakes, sweeping toward Yitian.

Yitian let out a great shout and thrust his long spear violently forward, its momentum like a rainbow, its speed no less than Shangguan Jinshe's, and its force astonishingly immense, stirring up a howling wind. Seeing he could not withstand it, Shangguan Jinshe had no choice but to retreat swiftly.

"Wow," the crowd sighed in unison, then burst into thunderous applause that echoed through the entire courtyard.

Even the old monk and Ji Changfeng praised the spear technique, their voices soft yet somehow piercing through the applause and reaching everyone's ears.

Yitian withdrew his iron spear and once again stood quietly watching Huang Daxia. Shangguan Jinshe flew into a rage, his body leaping into the air, and with a move called "Piercing Lightning Through the Void," he flew straight at Yitian, body and sword as one.

"Shangguan's sword art truly lives up to its reputation. Benefactor Shangguan has reached the realm of unity between sword and self—admirable, congratulations!" The old Taoist beside the old monk stroked his beard and praised.

Yitian again simply thrust his spear out fiercely, exactly as before, with the same posture and force. Shangguan Jinshe dared not meet its edge head-on, so he touched the tip of his sword to the spear and leaped back.

After that, Shangguan Jinshe used every trick he knew, but Yitian responded with the same single move—a straight thrust of his long spear. Over a hundred exchanges passed, and neither could harm the other.

Then Shangguan Jinshe changed his approach. He stood still for a while, his sword tip pointing at Yitian, his face slowly turning cyan, and a faint wisp of green vapor seemed to rise from his forehead. The Taoist remarked softly again, "Master Shangguan's Qingye Divine Art has reached its pinnacle. This young hero should be careful."

"Qingye Divine Art," the crowd gasped in awe. The Qingye Divine Art was the secret inner cultivation method of the Shangguan clan. Legend had it that at its highest level, the face would turn cyan, and the practitioner could multiply their speed and strength severalfold, becoming unbeatable. That was also why martial artists had only heard of it but never seen it—those who had witnessed it were no longer among the living. Who would have thought they'd see it today, and used against a youth of barely ten-odd years? Everyone couldn't help but worry for Yitian, and some even shouted, "Leave! There's no need to throw your life away here. As long as the green mountain remains, there'll be no shortage of firewood."

Yitian did not move, still quietly watching Huang Daxia, only leveling his iron spear toward Shangguan Jinshe. Huang Daxia didn't even glance at Yitian, his face flushed red as he stared at Shangguan Jinshe.

After a long moment, Shangguan Jinshe let out a great shout, "Piercing Lightning Through the Void!" His sword and body became one line as he thrust toward Yitian. Previously, one could still make out his figure, but this time only a faint shadow could be seen hurtling forward. Yitian also gave a great shout, gripping the spear with both hands and swinging it down from above onto Shangguan Jinshe, stirring up a roaring wind.

With a loud "bang," dust filled the air. When everyone looked closely, they saw Shangguan Jinshe lying flat on the ground, pinned down by the iron spear. The courtyard erupted in wave after wave of applause that would not die down. Shangguan Jinshe said nothing more, pushed the spear aside, rose, and walked out the door, simply leaving.

Dongfang Zhuge coughed dryly a few times and said softly, "Truly, heroes come from the young! Young Hero Li, impressive, impressive!" His voice was low, yet it cut through the thunderous applause and reached everyone's ears clearly. Then he turned to Huang Daxia and said, "Big brother, today you're washing your hands of the martial world, so it's not fitting to use weapons. But since Young Hero Li has come to challenge your door, there's no helping it—big brother should spar with the young hero in palm techniques."

"Good indeed, good indeed! This old monk can see that Young Hero Li knows nothing of martial arts—he's merely strong and quick, accustomed to his iron spear, and ignorant of inner cultivation. Huang Daxia is famed as the peerless master of both palm and sword; his palm is itself a weapon. Young Hero Li is no match for him at all. Leave quickly. Amitabha!" The old monk finished, pressed his palms together in a bow toward Yitian, and Yitian felt as if a gust of wind lifted him, sending him flying back several meters before he landed steadily, now not far from the gate.

But Yitian walked back step by step, looked at Huang Daxia, and said, "I beg Huang Daxia to uphold justice!"

Huang Daxia finally spoke, "The Shaolin abbot, Chan Master Fude, truly possesses divine skill beyond compare!"

Fude Chan Master said little, merely pressing his palms together in acknowledgment.

Huang Daxia turned to Li Yitian, "This old man will spar with the young hero using both palms. The young hero may use his spear." He still maintained the bearing of a great hero.

"Young Hero Li dares to come challenge the door, so surely he won't take advantage of big brother. Young Hero Li is skilled and bold—no doubt his palm work is also formidable. Big brother, please be careful." Dongfang Zhuge, seeing his big brother underestimate the opponent, quickly interjected.

Yitian made a bow to Huang Daxia and said, "This junior has not come to cause trouble, only hoping that Huang Daxia might intervene in today's matter." Yitian still refused to give up, continuing to plead with Huang Daxia.

"Young Hero Li need not tangle with him. You are no match for him. I can see you have extraordinary talent, but no one to guide you. Better to withdraw for now. In time, you will surely become a hero of the martial world." Ji Changfeng advised Yitian, his tone not at all polite, as if he held Huang Daxia in little regard.

Yitian did not leave, but cast his iron spear aside, clasped his fists, and stood quietly watching Huang Daxia.

Huang Daxia said "Please, young hero" several times, but Li Yitian made no move, simply watching him. At last, Huang Daxia could bear it no longer. With no particular form, he slowly pushed out a palm. Li Yitian had no choice but to raise both palms to meet it. With a soft "bang," Yitian fell backward, crashing heavily to the ground, sending up a great cloud of dust. For a long while, he struggled but couldn't get up. Only after some time did he manage to sit upright, then slowly drag himself to his feet. His arms hung limp before him, both broken at the elbows. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, and he gasped for breath, his face turning pale. He bore the pain in silence without a single groan, though his body trembled slightly. Still, he quietly fixed his gaze on Huang Daxia.

Huang Daxia seemed at a loss for what to do. He glanced at Dongfang Zhuge, who said loudly, "Big brother, for someone who comes to challenge your door, we should cripple his martial arts. Let me handle it." As he spoke, he approached Yitian, and with a few cracks, shattered both of Yitian's collarbones and severed the tendons of his hands and feet. Li Yitian was now a cripple, collapsing straight to the ground, his body trembling uncontrollably, yet still he uttered not a single sound.

Dongfang Zhuge stared coldly at Chief Escort Wang and barked, "Why don't you take him away already? He's made enough of a spectacle."

Chief Escort Wang let out a long sigh, picked up Li Yitian, and turned to head toward the main gate.

"Amitabha. Good indeed, good indeed! This old monk will see Young Hero Li off." Fude Chan Master didn't even glance at Huang Daxia and the others, but turned and followed Chief Escort Wang out the door.

The assembled heroes all called out, "Let's go—I'll see Young Hero Li off too." In an instant, everyone left, and the place was emptied clean.

What followed was the stuff of martial world legend.

A few days later, word spread that the Jade-Faced Hero had had his collarbones shattered, the tendons of his legs and feet severed, and his face slashed countless times, leaving a truly horrifying sight.

Some time later, it was said that Huang Daxia's estate had been burned to the ground, and Huang Daxia and his people had moved away to parts unknown. Beside the estate, a house of green brick and white tile had been built, with two bold characters scrawled across the gate: "Wang Residence." It was said someone had helped that Wang family rebuild on their original site.

Not long after, it was said that Dongfang Zhuge had been killed in his own home.

Later still, someone claimed to have seen Huang Daxia. His bearing remained, but he had aged greatly—a man in his sixties looking like he was in his eighties or nineties. It was said that wherever he went, he was unwelcome, pointed at and whispered about, and occasionally spat upon. After that, no one ever saw Huang Daxia again.

And later still, it was said that the new disciple accepted by Shaolin Abbot Fude was none other than Yitian, now known as Chan Master Huiyi. Chan Master Huiyi devoted himself wholly to Buddhism, reading every sutra in the temple. His appearance was solemn and majestic—clearly a monk of great attainment. When he went out to preach, crowds gathered in droves, emptying the streets. His teachings were plain and easy to understand, fond of explaining Buddhist principles through everyday life, and he was hailed as the foremost figure of Shaolin Temple.

This is the story of the hero.

From the "Jianghu" series novel "The Hero," version: Build20170215

Author: Lü Jianfeng.