Chapter 1: Rainy Night at Disordered Chess Mountain
Dark clouds pressed down heavily, piling up in the sky. The earth was dim, and a torrential downpour, like a landslide and tsunami combined, was about to strike.
The mountains and rivers were fragmented, and all was silent. A group of people hurried towards a dilapidated temple ahead.
The surrounding mountains appeared chaotic and disorganized, as if the Creator, in a fit of inexplicable irritability while arranging this landscape, had pushed the mountains into crooked and slanted positions.
To the right of the dilapidated temple was a deep pit about half a mile in diameter, connected to a crisscrossing network of fissures. This prevented the pit from accumulating water and forming a lake.
A young man in a fur coat, riding one of the only two horses in the group, quickly rushed to the front of the temple and jumped down. Soon, the martial artist beside him also dismounted, followed by the rest of the group, panting as they caught up and quickly tied their horses.
Amidst the rumbling roar, the world turned into a vast expanse of white. By this time, the group had managed to take shelter in the dilapidated temple, avoiding the heavy rain.
“The weather around here is really unusual!” The young man patted the grass and dust off his fur coat and looked out through the cobweb-covered window pane. “Just a moment ago, it was fine, with a clear sky, and suddenly dark clouds rolled in, bringing this downpour.”
The martial artist, dressed in grey, had a broad face and a low forehead, with an iron saber tucked into his belt. He smiled and said, “Young Master, you may not know, but this place is called Disordered Chess Ridge. I heard that three hundred years ago, it was actually called Stone Chess Ridge.
“At that time, the mountain peaks here were arranged like chess pieces on a board, neat and orderly. Later, a battle between Daoists and Demons took place in this area, resulting in a bloodbath, with corpses strewn everywhere, and even the surrounding terrain changed.”
The young man said with a hint of envy, “I wonder if I’ll ever have the chance to learn such martial arts that can alter the landscape.”
The martial artist shook his head and smiled, “Such extraordinary encounters are purely by chance. Difficult! Difficult! Difficult!”
The young man sighed helplessly, wishing that at this moment, a system would suddenly appear before him, listing numerous divine powers, allowing him to select… and then level up.
Having transmigrated and taken over this body, it had been three years now without him realizing it. In these three years, although he had done many things for the people of Small Han Mountain City, in such a turbulent era, ultimately, only powerful martial artists and those with supernatural abilities could protect themselves.
Unlike now, the Marquis could simply send someone over with a demand, and for the safety of all the people in the mountain city, he, the young master of Small Han Mountain City, had to obey and travel to the Marquis’ city. They called it a marriage alliance, but in reality, he was marrying a “daughter” arbitrarily chosen by the Marquis’ younger brother from his own clan.
Beside him, six other attendants had spontaneously started to work, using the broken brooms by the door to sweep the dust-filled temple and light a fire to prepare dinner.
These so-called attendants were actually hunters from Small Han Mountain City.
In recent years, Small Han Mountain City had fallen on hard times, until three years ago, when their young master, Shi Hao, suffered a serious illness. After recovering, he seemed to have gained enlightenment and brought many new techniques to the mountain city, enabling the people to endure these difficult times of unpredictable weather.
Because of this, they held deep respect for their young master, who was only seventeen years old.
Shi Hao came to the temple entrance and looked up at the outside. The earth was vast, the rain roared, and the moisture seemed to find a breakthrough, pouring into the temple. It felt as if the earth itself would tilt, and the rain would surge in like a flood.
“Young Master!” the martial artist called from behind him. “We probably won’t be able to leave tonight. It’s damp by the entrance, so come and sit down.”
Shi Hao turned and walked towards the corner they had barely managed to clean.
Someone fetched a clean piece of cloth to cushion the ground for him. Shi Hao waved his hand and said, “No need.”
The man smiled. “Young Master, you’re a scholar, unlike us. We’re rough folk who hunt in the mountains and are used to sitting on dirty ground.” He still spread the cloth.
Shi Hao said self-deprecatingly, “What use are scholars in these times? If I had a choice, I would rather abandon literature and pursue martial arts. Perhaps then I could do more.”
Unable to refuse the man’s kindness, he sat down on the grey but clean square cloth and looked at the martial artist beside him, saying, “Master Lu, you’re also a martial artist…”
Master Lu said, “Young Master, martial artists are also of many different kinds. Someone like me is just a roughneck who brawls in the streets and alleys. I don’t have the light skills to leap over roofs and walls, nor the divine power to kill from a thousand miles away. In the eyes of true masters, people like me, to even say we practice martial arts, disgrace the very word ‘martial’.
“If Young Master truly wants to learn those skills of soaring through the heavens and burrowing into the earth, you’ll probably have to join the Chongxian Sect.”
When he mentioned the “Chongxian Sect,” his expression was not one of reverence but rather of disdain.
It was as if, in the heart of this rough man who only knew some fist and saber techniques and practiced a bit of body tempering, the Chongxian Sect, with its boundless Daoist arts and overwhelming divine powers, was the truly despicable “lowly thing.”
Even Shi Hao frowned and shook his head when he heard him mention the “Chongxian Sect.”
Master Lu whispered, “If Young Master doesn’t want to join the Chongxian Sect but still wants to learn real skills, you’re afraid you’ll have to join the ‘unorthodox sects,’ or even the Demonic Sects.”
Outside, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, shaking the heavens. The world outside the dilapidated temple momentarily brightened before being swallowed by even deeper darkness.
The hunters, dressed as attendants, took out an iron pot and started to cook meat soup over the bonfire. They were accustomed to life in the wilderness and were naturally adept at these tasks.
Soon, the water in the pot was boiling, and the aroma of meat filled the air. They added dried mushrooms, dried bamboo shoots, and other ingredients from their packs, making mouths water.
Suddenly, another flash of lightning illuminated the outside.
There were hurried footsteps outside, accompanied by the pitter-patter sound of rain and the rush of moist air into the temple, causing the firelight to flicker. A group of drenched people rushed in, and upon seeing them, they immediately became wary.
Shi Hao looked and saw that there were exactly seven people in the group.
The leader of the seven wore a tattered Daoist robe. The light blue, cloud-and-crane patterned robe had at least three rips that tore through to the white undergarment. It was conceivable that these rips were originally stained with blood, but the rain had washed them lighter.
His face was somewhat pale, not a healthy color, but rather the pallor caused by excessive blood loss and exhaustion.
He wore a sword at his waist, the scabbard on his right side, but his left hand loosely gripped it, maintaining a sense of urgency, ready to draw at any moment.
Four others were martial artists, all dressed in sturdy clothing. The remaining two were a girl of about fifteen or sixteen and a boy who might not even be ten years old.
At this moment, they were all soaked to the bone, like drowned rats. Running in such heavy rain was no different from being submerged in water.
The girl wore a peach-colored, narrow-sleeved jacket and skirt. Her wet clothes clung tightly to her curvaceous figure, and her messy hair stuck to her face.
She looked at the bonfire with a panicked expression, yet there was also a flicker of hope in her eyes.
Beside her, the boy huddled close, his small hand tightly gripping the corner of her clothes, equally filled with fear and anxiety.
The two groups stared at each other. The sword-wielding Daoist seemed puzzled. He composed himself and suddenly said, “It’s really dark in here.”
As they entered, the bonfire flickered wildly from the draft they created, causing their shadows to dance erratically on the walls.
Shi Hao exchanged a glance with Master Lu, thinking, is he talking to us?
Seeing that they didn’t speak, the sword-wielding Daoist sighed, looked back at the pouring rain outside, and said, “…It’s really dark!”
Shi Hao’s thoughts stirred. He smiled and said, “It is indeed dark outside. Are you all here to take shelter from the rain? We were also passing by before the rain started and rushed here for shelter.”
The Daoist nodded, not paying much attention to them. He turned to his companions and whispered, “Let’s wait here for a while.”
Shi Hao thought to himself, “They’re so nervous, it seems they’re being chased by someone. Seeing the firelight here, although unsure whether we are friend or foe, they still rushed in. What the Daoist said is probably some kind of code for rendezvous, but unfortunately, we’re not the ones they’re meeting.”
It was just a small earth god temple, and the earth god statue against the wall was also covered in dust. The group sat down on the other side of the statue, huddled together, wet and miserable. The girl and the boy were protected in a relatively safe corner.
After a while, the aroma of meat from the iron pot became overwhelming. Shi Hao heard a “grumble” from the other side; it was the boy, staring longingly at the iron pot.
Shi Hao smiled, asked for a bowl from someone beside him, filled it with meat soup with a ladle, and placed two wooden spoons in it. He stood up and walked towards the other side.
The Daoist, sitting on the ground, looked up, staring at him like a fierce tiger. Shi Hao said softly, “Let the child eat something.”
The Daoist hesitated for a moment, looked back at the pitiful boy, and remained silent for a while before standing up to take the meat soup. He whispered, “Thank you.”
Shi Hao returned to his place, where one of the attendants had already filled a bowl of meat soup for him.
On their side, everyone started to eat with gusto. On the other side, the Daoist let the bowl of meat soup cool down a bit. Seeing that they had all started eating without incident, he then handed it to the girl and the boy.
The girl and the boy hadn’t taken more than a few bites when a sound came from outside again.
By now, the rain had lessened somewhat, but a thump, thump, thump, thump sound could be heard.
The darkness outside, like a black-lacquered drum, was being struck by an unseen drumstick.
Immediately following, a man parted the curtain of rain and stepped inside. His eyes quickly scanned the temple, then landed on the Daoist’s group. He chuckled strangely and said, “Found you!”
Clang! The bowl in the girl’s hand fell to the ground, splashing meat soup everywhere. The martial artists all jumped up, shielding the girl and the boy behind them.
The Daoist had already jumped to his feet the moment the man entered, drawing his sword with his left hand. The blade flashed, radiating a cold light.
Shi Hao saw that the man who entered the temple was wearing a dark-colored uniform with an iron badge at his waist and a goose-feather saber tucked in. At the same time, rapid gusts of wind swirled around the dilapidated temple, loud enough to be heard even over the rain.
“You guys are really good at running,” the man said, drawing his goose-feather saber. The blade glinted with blood. He sneered, “Along the way, I’ve killed quite a few of you. Every single one of you is tight-lipped. It wasn’t easy tracking you here. If it weren’t for two friends coming to help, I might not have caught up, and you would have escaped.”
The Daoist gritted his teeth, “Zhao Haisong, you scum of the martial world!”
The man laughed, “Wu Zheng, a scholar, secretly colluded with rebels, writing rebellious poems and essays. He deserves to have his entire family executed. Lan He, you are a Daoist priest, yet instead of working with the Daoists of the Chongxian Sect to uphold righteousness, eliminate evil, maintain law and order, and serve the court, you collaborate with rebels, hijack prison carts, and protect traitors.
“A treacherous and wicked villain like you deserves to be punished!”
Daoist Lan He didn’t get angry, but laughed instead, “I’m treacherous and wicked? I’m treacherous and wicked? Zhao Haisong, all these years, you’ve murdered your master, betrayed your ancestors, and harmed innocent people. The Chen sisters whom you raped and murdered at Wangsong Terrace, the hundreds of villagers you slaughtered in Xinglan Village, and the many children from the orphanage you killed to cultivate your evil techniques…
“Your hands are stained with the blood of countless innocent people. Now that you’ve joined the Six Gates, become a lapdog of the Man Ting Dynasty, you dare to speak of justice?”
He roared, “If someone like you can represent justice, then what’s wrong with me being treacherous and wicked?”
Zhao Haisong said disdainfully, “I serve the court and uphold justice in the martial world. A villain like you deserves to be killed by anyone.”
Bang! Bang! Two sounds came from the sides as both window panes shattered. A head emerged from the left side, with a pointed face and rat-like teeth. It cackled, “Deserves to be killed by anyone, killed by anyone.”
A figure hung upside down from the right, its voice gloomy and sinister, “Why so much talk? Just kill them. Hehehehe.”
Daoist Lan He’s expression changed slightly, “The Rat and Bat duo?” Now he finally understood why Zhao Haisong had been able to catch up so quickly.
The man with the pointed face and rat-like teeth, who had squeezed half his small, thin body through the broken window pane, cackled, “Not the Rat and Bat duo, we are now Constable Rat and Constable Bat of the Six Gates, heroes who uphold justice and law and order. Hee hee hee hee.”
Zhao Haisong’s gaze shifted to Shi Hao and Master Lu. His eyes were filled with murderous intent, but then quickly landed on Shi Hao’s rather valuable fur coat. He finally snorted and shouted, “Six Gates official business! Bystanders, get out!”
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