By the banks of Lixin Lake, before the three-story Stone Boat.
The morning’s viewing had concluded. The carriages and servants of various noble houses had long been waiting in the shade of the trees lining the broad avenue outside the Stone Boat. One by one, the carriages departed, ferrying their passengers directly to the city’s most exquisite restaurants for a lavish feast. During the sweltering heat of the afternoon, these distinguished guests would seek refuge in elegant teahouses to escape the sun, or perhaps visit the Wanjin Theater to enjoy a play. Only after sunset would they decide whether to hire a two-story pleasure boat and half a dozen guards for a unique night excursion upon the lake.
For those who enjoyed eavesdropping on the affairs of the martial world but had no desire to be entangled in its conflicts, it didn't truly matter who led the *jianghu* or who made a somber exit. Spending enough silver to catch a distant glimpse of Qionghu Island, or sipping wine on Lixin Lake while composing a few lines of sentimental poetry, was merely fodder for conversation in the month to come. It was no different from watching a cricket fight or a horse race in the capital.
The vessels of the various sects remained moored in the chilly waters of Lixin Lake, maintaining their dignified posture regardless of whether the spectators on the shore had dispersed. Meanwhile, the shrewd street vendors, ever quick to sniff out a business opportunity, had already donned their bamboo hats and shouldered their folding stools, lining the straight avenue outside the Stone Boat since early morning.
Whether it was chartering a boat, touring the lake, hiring domestic help, or engaging bodyguards—as long as the patrons opened their purses, there was nothing these vendors couldn't provide. They would tirelessly praise the luxury and comfort of their own boats, or swear on their lives that a single trip would allow one to see the masters of all eight major sects. Some even claimed, with an air of mystery, to have witnessed fish spirits or lake monsters. Their goal was singular: to entice these silver-laden guests onto their ramshackle boats and squeeze a year's worth of profit out of a single voyage.
A keen observer would notice that these so-called "vendors" were not as simple as they appeared. Some were indeed boatmen from Jiugao City, but many more were nameless disciples from minor martial sects. There were even river pirates and water bandits mixed among them; having donned the clothes of honest commoners, they shamelessly conducted this highly lucrative business.
In these times, if a fat sheep presented itself for the slaughter, who would be willing to squat in a remote mountain gully waiting for their own "miraculous encounter" to make a fortune?
The honest merchants could tell at a glance that these "wolves" were not to be trifled with. Even as they watched their business being snatched away, they could only swallow their resentment in silence. However, there were also bold boatmen who partnered with these martial artists—one providing the boat, the other providing the muscle—making the task of poaching customers exceptionally smooth. One could only wonder if the division of spoils would result in another untold tragedy.
The excitement on the lake had paused, and the most intense slaughter had yet to begin. Yet, observing the scenes on the shore, was this not another form of *jianghu* hunting? The hunters had simply donned a subservient mask, using flattery to scrape golden scales from their prey. Whoever possessed the sharpest eye and the swiftest movement would harvest the most from this predatory feast.
At that moment, the most conspicuous of these "prey" descended slowly from the three-story Stone Boat, surrounded by a retinue of maidservants and older matrons.
She was a young woman with rosy cheeks and a rather plump figure. Her small, exposed hands resembled two segments of white, fatty lotus root, trembling slightly with every step she took. She was clearly dissatisfied with the "excitement" she had just witnessed, her small mouth pouting high.
"Didn't they say Di Mo, the Master of the World’s No. 1 Villa, would come in person? I've been standing in the wind for half the day, my head is killing me, and I didn't see anyone who looked like Di Mo."
Beside her followed a woman dressed as a maid, carrying a fruit tray. However, perhaps due to her somewhat burly stature, the pink-and-white maid’s uniform looked awkward and ill-fitting on her, and even her meticulously braided hair seemed strange. Her facial features were decent enough, but they were marred by a pair of beady eyes that darted about cunningly whenever she spoke. A wolf-hair brush was tucked behind her ear, a forced attempt to mimic the appearance of a *jianghu* storyteller.
"The young miss might not know," the maid replied. "This Di Mo has always been mysterious. He rarely shows his face in public, and when he does, he invariably wears a mask. Even among the people of the martial world, few have seen his true face. The news that he would personally attend this Sword Assembly is certain; he simply didn't appear during the opening ceremony just now. There may be another chance later..."
The young woman was clearly unsatisfied with this answer, making her bodhi-seed prayer beads click loudly in her hand.
"Mysterious? I think he’s just ugly. Or perhaps he’s putting on airs to hide the fact that he’s a useless fool, afraid that if he shows his face too often, people will see through him. When I get back, I’ll have my brother step in. We’ll kidnap him while he’s bathing and take a look for ourselves."
Upon hearing this, the beady-eyed maid instantly put on a look of horror. She looked around exaggeratedly before lowering her voice and speaking nervously.
"Miss, you mustn't say such things! I heard that back in the Northern Di, there was a master who was dissatisfied with the dominance of the World’s No. 1 Villa. Believing Di Mo to be a fraud, he secretly infiltrated the villa, hoping to make a name for himself. Who would have thought he would vanish without a trace? It was as if he evaporated from the earth, and no one dared to investigate further. I, Qi Gu, swear by my name that every word is true. Miss is of noble birth; it is best not to wade into these muddy waters..."
Just as Qi Gu reached the most critical part of her tale, her mouth growing dry, a sudden force struck her from behind. She was sent flying, fruit tray and all, crashing directly into her young mistress. Melons, pears, and peaches scattered across the ground.
She turned her head, eyes blazing with fury, only to catch a glimpse of a small, thin silhouette—vaguely resembling a half-grown child.
"Which blind fool doesn't look where they're walking..."
She rolled up her sleeves and scrambled to her feet to give chase, but as soon as she stood up, someone grabbed her by her braids.
"You clumsy servant! You've ruined my clothes!"
Dazed, Qi Gu looked down and realized that the overripe mulberries from the fruit tray had all landed on the mistress’s snow-white dress. The purple and red stains were a shocking sight. She stepped forward tremulously, clumsily trying to wipe them away, but the stains only smeared into a larger mess.
The young mistress’s voice instantly rose in pitch. Her plump hands pulled out a handkerchief, vainly attempting to save her garment.
"This is fabric from Tianlun Manor! I only had this one outfit made..."
The mistress stopped her shouting mid-sentence, sensing something was wrong. She reached for her waist, and her pretty face instantly collapsed.
"Where is my pouch? Where is my pouch?! Sister Ziyu gave that to me; there isn't another like it in the world! Find it for me, find it..."
Having lost her pouch, the young mistress began to wail and throw a tantrum. The retinue of maids and matrons exhausted every effort but could not soothe her. The unlucky soul named Qi Gu was shouted into a daze. She finally managed to stand up, rubbing her scalp, but when she looked around, where was there any sign of the little thief?
Within the crowd, the thin figure darted nimbly back and forth, soon leaving the wailing female voice far behind.
He usually operated around the Tiao’er Alley area in the south of the city. Hearing that the Sword Assembly would be held at Lixin Lake and that many "fat sheep" would be coming to watch the fun, he had followed along, hoping to get a share of the spoils.
But he was also afraid—afraid of offending someone he shouldn't.
Therefore, he only dared to target women who looked like easy marks. Heaven had been kind; he had succeeded on his very first attempt.
He found a secluded spot to pour out the gold and silver items from the pouch to count them. Tossing the pouch onto the ground, he prepared to leave in high spirits, thinking of returning to the city to buy a roast chicken to fill his belly. Suddenly, a voice rang out behind him.
"Embroidery from the Silver Osmanthus Workshop... a single foot of it is enough to make a seamstress go blind. How can you simply cast it upon the ground?"
The thief jumped in fright. Turning around, he saw a man sitting in a wooden wheelchair who had appeared behind him at some unknown moment. The man’s eyes were covered with a cloth strip, and he was only two or three paces away.
The thief made a quick observation and then tried his old trick. Relying on his agility, he attempted to dart past the man. He had judged that the man was blind and had difficulty moving his legs. To his surprise, he was caught red-handed, and the gold and silver scattered across the ground.
Before he could react, a pale, greenish hand with prominent knuckles clamped firmly onto his wrist. He felt a terrifying strength tightening, as if his bones would be snapped in the next instant. He gritted his teeth, but in the end, he couldn't help but cry out in pain.
The moment he made a sound, the man released his hand. The thief fell onto his backside. Instinctively, he tried to get up and flee again, but when he looked up, he found two expressionless, square-faced men standing beside him, both looking equally stern and terrifying.
The blind man then leaned closer to him. There was an unpleasant scent on the man that even pungent incense could not mask.
"It is merely some loose silver; I will give it to you. But you must do something for me in return. How about it?"
The thief froze for a moment, then his eyes darted around as he nodded. Once the silver was in his hand, the man could be the Jade Emperor for all he cared. When the time came, he would simply grease his soles and slip away, find a place in the city, and have a good meal...
"Once the task is done, come back for the silver," the man said, as if he knew exactly what the boy was thinking, staring at him with those cloth-covered eyes. "Since you have agreed, you must see it through. If you fail, my men will naturally find you."
The thief shuddered and could only continue to nod. The blind man pulled something from his sleeve and handed it to the thief, then whispered something into his ear. The thief nodded and ran back toward the noisy crowd.
Tang Wu watched coldly from the side, only speaking with some resentment after a long silence.
"Young Master should have broken one of his hands."
Lord Yan sighed softly. His withered hands opened and closed in the air, his movements stiff and sluggish.
"What would be the point? He is merely trying to make a living. Besides, within the four seas, there is more than just one pair of hands that steals. Break one, and thousands more will remain. When people are hungry, cold, and lack discipline, any pair of industrious and capable hands can become hands that kill and steal."
Tang Wu paused, a look of shame rising on his face. He bowed his head.
"Young Master is
