Chapter 39: Chapter 39
Night fell.
A small boat slipped from the docks and glided downstream toward the Three Rivers Fortress.
Jin Buhuan sat in his study.
Lamplight flickered. Suddenly, his instincts flared.
He turned — and saw a young figure standing just outside his study door.
“My lord!”
Jin Buhuan dropped to his knees the instant he recognized the visitor.
“I received word of your return today. I was planning to come to Nanyang tomorrow to find you—”
He rushed to explain.
The skirmish between Li Suifeng and the Divine Fist Gate on the river had taken place not far from the Three Rivers Fortress. He’d even captured a few fleeing Divine Fist Gate disciples. He knew exactly what had happened.
“What’s been going on while I was away?” Li Suifeng entered the study.
Jin Buhuan closed the door behind them.
“The Valley of Ten Thousand Flowers and Righteous Manor appear to have formed an alliance. Miss Lin’s master has been placed under house arrest by the Valley. I was also warned by the Moon Lake Strongholds not to involve myself in anything between Lin Zhixu and the Divine Fist Gate.”
“So the Moon Lake Strongholds may have joined the alliance too?” Li Suifeng frowned.
Only one target could unite three of Nanzhou’s major factions: the Canal Gang.
“Possibly.” Jin Buhuan lowered his voice. “Qian Long visited the Three Rivers Fortress. He doesn’t suspect me — he’s gone to Mingzhou Prefecture to find Ye Qingmei.”
“Mm.” Li Suifeng moved to the window.
“You’ve fought Liu Zhenhe before. If I sent you to kill him — what are the odds?”
He was already a Nanyang Branch Elder. If Liu Zhenhe were removed, he’d have a legitimate claim to the Helmsman’s seat.
And the moment he became Helmsman, the maxed Dragon-Elephant Prajna Art was his. With that, he’d have a genuine foothold in Nanzhou.
“Our last clash was a year and a half ago. He’s peak sixth-rank — one small realm above me.” Jin Buhuan’s tone was respectful. “If I fought recklessly, I could wound him badly. But kill him? I can’t.”
His saber technique was solid, but Liu Zhenhe’s iron staff carried tremendous force and his fundamentals were rock-solid.
Every encounter had left Jin Buhuan on the losing end.
“And Ba Hu?” Li Suifeng named a second man.
“Ba Hu is roughly my equal. A shade below Liu Zhenhe as well.” Jin Buhuan shook his head.
“Can you contact Ba Hu? Get him to join you against Liu Zhenhe?”
“You want to move against Liu Zhenhe?” Jin Buhuan whispered. “Ba Hu actually reached out to me recently, but I turned him down.”
“I can approach him again. The previous Nanyang Branch Helmsman was killed by Ba Hu. He’s been trying to dominate all of Nanyang ever since — that’s how he earns Righteous Manor’s backing. But Liu Zhenhe has blocked every move the Divine Fist Gate has made.”
“In the past few years alone, Liu Zhenhe and Ba Hu have fought no fewer than five times. If Liu Zhenhe didn’t fear Righteous Manor’s shadow behind the Divine Fist Gate, he’d have wiped them out already.”
Li Suifeng nodded.
“Then go to Ba Hu. Tell him you’re willing to join forces against Liu Zhenhe.”
…
That night, Li Suifeng didn’t return to Green Stone Alley. He stayed at the docks.
“I usually share a room with my lady.”
Willow eyed the interloper who’d commandeered the bed with visible displeasure.
“Starting tonight, you’re in the side room.”
Li Suifeng waved her off impatiently.
“Willow — go on.” Lin Zhixu’s voice carried a thread of wariness, but she sent the girl away.
She was living under Li Suifeng’s roof. On the ship, he’d already taken every liberty short of the last. Unless Ba Hu died, she’d have given it all up for nothing.
“Where’s the old man?”
Huang Jiuyuan was nowhere to be seen.
“Gone to the Valley of Ten Thousand Flowers. He wants to find out what happened.”
Lin Zhixu bit her lip.
“I’m still hurt. Don’t try anything tonight.”
Li Suifeng smiled, brushing a thumb across her lips.
“This afternoon wasn’t enough.”
“You—”
Lin Zhixu’s mouth opened to protest.
A finger silenced her.
And then…
…
Time flowed like water.
Ten days passed in the blink of an eye.
Apart from a couple of perfunctory scouting trips to the Divine Fist Gate’s two river docks outside the city, Li Suifeng mostly stayed within Nanyang’s walls.
The docks, he had to admit, were impressively built. One of them rivaled the Linshui Docks in scale.
Business was brisk, too. Plenty of city merchants were routing their goods through the Divine Fist Gate’s facilities.
Every one of those merchants was noted down in Li Suifeng’s little book. Once he became Helmsman, they’d all be paying a price.
The sixteenth of the tenth month.
Deep night.
Li Suifeng stood alone on a rooftop near the Nanyang Branch headquarters.
“The show is finally about to start.”
He murmured, gazing at the brightly lit compound.
Inside the branch—
Ma Hua stood behind Liu Zhenhe.
“Helmsman — this Li Suifeng is no different from Qin Wuyang. He doesn’t have the guts to take on the Divine Fist Gate either.”
“He’s gone outside the city twice and hasn’t so much as discussed an action plan with his people.”
Liu Zhenhe waved dismissively.
“No matter. I gave him one month. If he can’t deliver, he has only himself to blame.”
At that moment, Liu Zhenhe’s head snapped up. His gaze locked onto the compound’s main gate.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
Crossbow bolts tore through the air. Shouts erupted — and then, almost instantly, fell silent.
“The audacity!”
Liu Zhenhe’s eyes blazed with killing intent.
Someone had just slaughtered his men inside his own headquarters. They weren’t even pretending to respect him.
He burst through the doors — and saw two figures charging toward him across a carpet of bodies.
“Ba Hu!”
“Jin Buhuan!”
“You dare!”
BOOM!
His iron staff slammed into the ground. Marble flagstones shattered. He launched skyward and hurtled straight at Ba Hu.
“They’re working together?”
Ma Hua’s mind raced.
If Ba Hu and Jin Buhuan had joined forces — did that mean the Moon Lake Eighteen Strongholds and Righteous Manor were allied?
That was an ominous sign.
“Not bad-looking, in a scholarly sort of way.”
Li Suifeng observed Ba Hu from his rooftop perch.
WHAM!
Ba Hu’s twin fists crashed against Liu Zhenhe’s iron staff.
BOOM! BOOM!
Two thunderous impacts. Ba Hu might look like a gentleman, but those iron fists could tear tigers apart.
Even a sixth-rank fighter who took one of those punches would feel it.
Both men recoiled, but Ba Hu was clearly the worse for it.
A flash of blade-light!
Jin Buhuan struck. His saber work was endless, relentless — a river of steel that cut off every avenue of retreat.
CLANG!
After several exchanges, Jin Buhuan’s saber hand trembled.
WHAM!
Both men simultaneously threw a left-hand palm strike. The palms collided.
PFFT!
Jin Buhuan spat blood and staggered back. A trickle of red appeared at the corner of Liu Zhenhe’s mouth as well.
CRASH!
Ba Hu had already closed again. Staff and iron fists clashed. Flagstones disintegrated underfoot.
Over a hundred branch disciples had gathered, bows drawn — but their faces were white with terror. Three sixth-rank masters fighting was beyond their ability to intervene.