Chapter 4: The Guide

Wang Hai stepped forward to greet him, and Zhao Dehua stood up warmly in response.

On one side was the seasoned former Brocade Guard, well-versed in the ways of the world and accustomed to receiving and sending off guests under Li Miao's lead. On the other side was the veteran escort head, astute and worldly, deliberately trying to discern the intentions of Li Miao and his companions.

The two men quickly engaged in an enthusiastic conversation. Zhao Dehua invited Li Miao to join them for a meal, and Li Miao saw no reason to refuse.

By the end of the meal, both sides had a general sense of who the other was.

Naturally, Li Miao and his group, being Brocade Guards, could not reveal their true identities. Wang Hai simply claimed that the three were sworn siblings on their way to Mount Tai to visit relatives.

Zhao Dehua heard nothing amiss and was largely at ease.

As darkness fell, the two groups retired to their respective rooms to rest.

Li Miao and his companions’ rooms were adjacent. As they reached the doors, Wang Hai was about to enter his room when Li Miao called him back.

“Xiao Hai, go sleep with Xiao Si tonight,” Li Miao said suddenly.

“Ah!? Commander…I, I…” Wang Hai’s face turned crimson, his ears burning. For all his experience as a Brocade Guard, he was still inexperienced in matters of the heart, and harbored a secret affection for Xiao Si.

Suddenly hearing Li Miao say this, he was completely flustered, stammering and unable to speak.

“What are you thinking?” Li Miao laughed. “I took Xiao Si in when she was only four or five. You think you can do as you wish without proper betrothal gifts?”

“I’m telling you to keep watch over her. I have business to attend to tonight and can’t look after things here.”

Wang Hai instantly collected himself. Years of service with the Brocade Guard, and following Li Miao for so long, had trained him well. Realizing it was official business, he immediately composed himself.

“Yes,” he replied, and entered Xiao Si’s room.

Li Miao returned to his own room, drank his tea unhurriedly, then lay on his bed for a while.

Outside, the night watchman struck his gong three times, signaling the third watch. Only then did Li Miao rise, open the window, and with a flicker vanished into the night.

—————

The autumn wind was bleak, the moonlight shrouded behind clouds.

Not far from the inn where Li Miao and the others were resting, a solitary figure crouched atop a civilian dwelling.

It was the masked woman who had attacked Zhao Dehua the previous night.

She was dressed for the night, her face still covered.

After leaving the previous night, she had not gone far, instead following Zhao Dehua’s group in secret. Waiting until deep night, when she judged that Zhao Dehua must be resting, she prepared to rise and seek her revenge.

Just as the tips of her toes left the rooftop—

A sudden voice spoke behind her.

“You won’t be able to best him like this.”

!!!

The masked woman’s eyes contracted in shock.

Who was speaking? She had been on high alert the entire time—how had someone crept up behind her without her noticing?

Her feet were already off the ground, unable to change direction—she was at her most vulnerable.

In her desperation, she shed all hesitation, drew a short sword from her pack, and, twisting her waist with all her might, spun midair to stab behind her!

Clang!

The masked woman’s face twisted in terror.

Her short sword was caught between two fingers, perfectly motionless.

She landed lightly, immediately leveraging her weight to thrust harder, using all her strength to drive the blade between those unyielding fingers, to pierce the one who had spoken.

No matter how much strength she used, the short sword remained as if wedged in stone, unmoving.

“That’s more like it,” the man said.

“I noticed last night that your fighting style was awkward—the skill with your hands was fine, but your footwork was clumsy, as if newly learned. It didn’t match the close-quarters style you pretended.”

“But when you draw your sword, you’re much more at ease. That’s your true martial art.”

“Hua Mountain swordplay, orthodox and authentic. You’re a disciple of Hua Mountain, aren’t you? Why are you hiding your identity to take revenge on an escort leader?”

The woman’s eyes chilled as her lineage was exposed. She let go of the short sword and retreated several steps, drawing her longsword from her pack, her gaze icy.

Her grudge with Zhao Dehua was personal; she did not wish to involve her sect, hence she had avoided using sword techniques. Even when startled earlier, she’d drawn a short sword, not her favored long one.

Now that her background was revealed, there was no need for pretense. She would use the weapon she wielded best.

She looked closely at the speaker and exclaimed in surprise, “You? Who are you really?”

“I’m the one asking questions now,” the man replied calmly—it was Li Miao.

The masked woman snorted coldly. “If you survive a few strikes from me, then you can do the questioning.”

“Don’t think that just because you saw me fight that old dog without a sword, you’ll have the upper hand.”

“You may have caught my short sword, but that doesn’t mean you can catch my long sword!”

With that, she raised her sword before her, ready to strike.

In that instant—

A sharp “swish!”

A resonant hum.

Her sword broke cleanly in two!

The severed blade clattered to the ground with a clear, ringing sound.

The masked woman gasped in pain, clutching her right hand with her left as blood welled between her fingers.

In that instant, a tremendous force had shuddered through the weapon, splitting her palm open.

Only then did Li Miao’s voice sound: “Palm techniques, finger techniques, short sword, long sword.”

“No matter what martial art or weapon you use, it makes no difference to me.”

The masked woman looked up to see Li Miao holding her short sword in his right hand, the tip broken off, his left hand just lowering from before him.

She was aghast. “You… used the sword tip?!”

In that split second, Li Miao had snapped off the tip of her short sword, and flung it to shatter her long sword!

What kind of martial skill was this?

Hua Mountain was a famous, well-established sect; as a direct disciple, her sword was no ordinary make.

If her weapon had broken in a clash with a true master, it might be understandable.

But who could shatter a well-forged steel sword with a mere hidden weapon?

A sword is not a saber, and the Hua Mountain style used supple, flexible blades—swords that could bend, not break. Yet hers was snapped in two in an instant.

What’s more, it was the tip of a short sword, snapped off by hand—light and thin, perhaps enough to cut, but how could it, when thrown, strike with the force of a battering ram?

She had summoned her internal energy for protection, yet the shockwave through the blade had still bloodied her hand.

Was this even human?

She had to escape! Now!

This person’s martial skills were beyond anything she had ever heard of; she was no match at all.

The masked woman tried to flee, but again heard a sharp “swish.”

A lock of her hair drifted down before her, and her veil slipped from her face.

Li Miao said unhurriedly, “Even without the tip, I could snap that short sword seven or eight more times.”

“What makes you think you can leave?”

“Be good. I have some business with you.”