Chapter 49:
The Incident at Bixia Sect
SHEN QIAO WRINKLED his brows—though not because he lacked a title. “Does that mean that Yu Ai is coming with Kunye to Bixia Sect?”
Pu Anmi laughed. “Perfected Master Yu isn’t coming—only my shizun. If Daoist Master Shen is interested, once my shizun is here, we can go see Ishbara Khagan together. I’m certain the Khagan will be very happy to meet you.”
“This humble Daoist has indeed fallen on hard times, but I haven’t fallen so far that I need to depend on a pillaging, slaughtering bandit.”
Pu Anmi’s smile faded instantly. “Do you know what you’re saying? You think you can look down on whoever you want, just because Yan Wushi is supporting you?”
“I’ve never thought that way,” Shen Qiao said coolly.
Suddenly, another smile spread across Pu Anmi’s face. “You should know—soon Yan Wushi won’t even be able to save himself. You’d be better off pledging allegiance to our powerful and prosperous Khaganate. I can see that Daoist Master Shen has already regained most of his martial arts—Ishbara Khagan has a great love of talent, and if you serve under him, he’s sure to grant you a glorious position. Then you could stand on equal footing with your shidi and compete with him as a proper rival.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” said Shen Qiao. “But I must decline.”
Anger flared in Pu Anmi at Shen Qiao’s refusal to bend to neither threat nor reward. Just as he was about to try again, Lu Feng, who’d been driven to impatient irritation on the sidelines, spoke up. “Pu-langjun, can’t you leave your grudges for another day? Let’s deal with Bixia Sect’s situation first, lest our delays cause even more problems!”
Pu Anmi nodded and looked to Ruan Hailou. “I will follow Sect Leader Ruan’s opinion on this matter. What does Sect Leader Ruan think?”
Ruan Hailou was now a member of Dongzhou Sect. His official rank there was quite high, and he’d married the daughter of the King of Goguryeo, making him rather well placed. The Eastern Khaganate wanted to take advantage of Zhou’s invasion of Qi to seize a good chunk of Qi’s land in the east. This was in perfect harmony with Goguryeo’s interests, so the two countries had already discussed how to divide up the territory. As Zhou invaded from the west with all its military might and Qi rushed to quell the flames, Goguryeo and the Khaganate could effortlessly claim Qi’s land in the east.
As for the matter of the Bixia Sect, it was only a small, unremarkable piece of all these schemes—it had nothing to do with the greater picture. Ruan Hailou, now son-in-law of the King of Goguryeo, had pledged allegiance to the Khaganate, and so the Khaganate needed to show him respect. Hence, when he went to Bixia Sect to settle old grudges, they’d followed and lent him their support.
“I’ll give you one last chance,” Ruan Hailou said to Yue Kunchi. “Surrender now, and I’ll spare your life.”
Yue Kunchi panted, clutching his chest. “Bixia Sect’s legacy has been passed down through generation after generation! Our sect may not be famous, but within us lies our forefathers’ blood and soul! As one of Bixia Sect’s disciples, I cannot bring shame upon them. I would rather die than surrender!”
Ruan Hailou burst into loud laughter. “Excellent! Hui Leshan was a treacherous, petty scoundrel, but he accepted a disciple with a spine of iron! I shall grant your wish!”
He was still apprehensive about Shen Qiao’s earlier intervention, though. He glanced to the side, about to say something. Pu Anmi seemed to understand his concerns. In the next moment, he inserted himself between Shen Qiao and Yue Kunchi. “Let me see just how much of Daoist Master Shen’s martial arts have returned!”
Kunye was highly honored and well respected. He was Hulugu’s personal disciple and also the Khaganate’s Wise King of the Left. Pu Anmi was Kunye’s first disciple and also came from a noble family in the Khaganate. He’d always thought highly of himself. Though he’d seen Shen Qiao’s sword qi just now, he didn’t take it too seriously. After all, everyone knew how gravely Shen Qiao had been injured, and there was no cure for Joyful Reunion. When they’d spoken, he’d noticed the haziness in Shen Qiao’s eyes, evidence of his ailing vision. He’d drawn his conclusions.
He immediately struck out with a harsh, killing blow. By attacking first, he hoped to seize the initiative and eliminate this new variable—this Shen Qiao.
Pu Anmi’s weapon was a saber. His saber techniques were incredibly imperious, like a lone wolf upon a grassy plain. One flash of his saber could strike fear into anyone’s heart—all who heard it shuddered and longed to flee.
His saber slashed down, its vast might closing in from above like a mountain, leaving those beneath it gasping for breath.
His strike was swift as lightning, but by the time it fell, Shen Qiao was gone. He’d already moved three steps back, avoiding the murderous blade.
But his retreat didn’t fill Pu Anmi with pride because Shen Qiao hadn’t drawn his sword.
What did it mean to not draw one’s sword?
It meant that Shen Qiao didn’t find the situation urgent enough to draw his weapon. It also meant he thought he didn’t need a sword to deal with someone like Pu Anmi.
Pu Anmi’s expression twisted, and he seethed with humiliation.
This Shen Qiao, he thought, was far too arrogant.
Once, you lost to my master, but now you look down on me?
What gives you the right to look down on me?
His first blow had missed, so a second one had to follow. While his thoughts turned, Pu Anmi leapt forward and the glare from his saber surged. It didn’t scream from above like his previous attack—this time, it came on like towering waves that swelled inward. Though it looked like only one attack, he’d actually fired six blasts of qi from his saber, each more powerful than the last.
A saber master his age would have to be extraordinarily talented to be capable of creating four of five bursts of qi, yet Pu Anmi had fired six. One could scarcely blame him for being so confident and self-assured.
Shen Qiao finally drew his sword.
Shanhe Tongbei hummed as it emerged from its sheath. Perhaps it was resonating with the saber qi, or perhaps the constant nourishment of sword qi from Shen Qiao had given the blade a soul of its own, and now it was raring to greet the enemy.
Shiwu’s eyes went round in surprise. He recognized this as one of the moves Shen Qiao had used during his demonstration of the Azure Waves sword technique, back on the bank of the Yellow River.
“The Cool Breeze Gently Blows”!
The bright moon dips behind the pines, a wind rises unbidden in the forest. A man sits beneath a pine, his back straight as the trunk itself. He plucks the guqin, and from this careless motion, a cool breeze is born, wafting gently against his face, carrying petals that drift like rain.
The move struck with such speed, yet it had such a poetic, picturesque name. Shiwu didn’t understand at first, but when he saw Shen Qiao’s effortless manner, he realized something.
This one sword strike blew away all six blasts of saber qi!
Pu Anmi couldn’t believe his eyes. For a brief moment he froze, but then Shen Qiao’s sword was right before his eyes, aiming straight at his face.
Pu Anmi’s only option was to withdraw his saber and retreat. Shen Qiao pressed close in pursuit—an uncharacteristic tactic for him. As one advanced and the other retreated, they traversed Bixia Sect’s entire inner area in an instant. Right as his back was about to slam into the wall, Pu Anmi used his momentum to leap onto one of the ceiling rafters, then swung from it upside down and slashed at Shen Qiao with his saber once more.