Qionghu Island was neither particularly small nor especially large. In the past, it had served only as a domain for high-security prisoners and their jailers, with the occasional official vessel docking for a few days—a load the island could easily manage. However, it had been long since anyone had set foot there, giving the place a wild, overgrown air. If half the sects of the martial world were to gather here at once, living and eating on the island, no amount of preparation would have sufficed.
Consequently, for this year’s Sword Appreciation Assembly, only the final day’s blade-sharpening ceremony would take place on the island. For the rest of the event, each sect would remain quartered on their own vessels.
This arrangement ensured privacy, allowing sects to deliberate behind closed doors without fear of eavesdroppers. It also provided enough personal space to prevent unnecessary friction. Those with friendly ties could moor close together, while those with grudges could keep their distance. If one wished to socialize, they could pay a visit to another ship; if not, they could simply sail away. Should trouble arise, a quick retreat was always an option—a truly ingenious multifaceted plan.
The daytime displays had exhausted much of the sects' energy and spirit. Now, as the sun dipped toward the west, the ships sat anchored in their respective territories, showing little movement. Most were resting and recuperating, preparing for the "Clanging of Gold" on the morrow.
Among the great galleons, a few small skiffs darted to and fro. Most carried a single occupant, clad in a straw raincoat and a conical hat, standing at the prow and peering about while punting the boat. Whenever someone from a large ship called out or tossed a stone into the lake, these small boats would immediately draw near. Once close enough, these "boatmen" would remove their hats and raincoats to reveal their faces, signaling they were "clean and empty-handed," before pulling back the lotus leaves covering the bottom of the boat to reveal their true cargo.
Unlike the amateurs who only dared to gather at the stone barges near the shore, these were true merchants who navigated the currents between the various powers of the martial world. In the jargon of the *jianghu*, they were known as "Huangguzi."
The Huangguzi was a type of small, omnivorous scavenger fish that favored river mouths and estuaries. They grew quickly, possessed a tenacious will to survive, and were notoriously cunning and difficult to catch. They were found everywhere—much like these peddlers who drifted through the martial world, toiling for their livelihoods.
This year, at the center of the lake outside the city, they were "boatmen." Next year, amidst peach blossoms and terraced fields, they would be "tea farmers." The year after, on a desolate island in the Southern Seas, they would be "ferrymen," and the year after that, atop ten thousand peaks, they would become "mountain porters."
In short, wherever the *jianghu* existed, so did they.
Some Huangguzi sold information; others sold weapons or hidden projectiles; still others sold poisons or medicinal salves. As long as there was a demand, there was no business they wouldn't undertake.
While most sects brought their own high-grade healing supplies and never let their personal weapons out of their sight, there were exceptions. For instance, during the Sword Appreciation Assembly at Mount Lingyao years ago, lightning and torrential rain had plagued the five great peaks. The relentless downpour, mixed with mountain silt and gravel, washed away most of the paths. Someone, driven by a dark impulse, used the chaos to ignite a sectarian conflict. Dozens of sects were trapped on the mountain, and overnight, the green pines and cypresses were stained by rivers of blood. Golden sore ointment, which usually cost a few silver taels, was driven up to over a hundred taels per bottle.
Even then, it was of little use. Those destined to die perished in droves. The coffin shops in the towns beneath Mount Lingyao had their thresholds worn down by the sheer volume of business, and even felling timber through the night couldn't keep up with the demand. The martial world had been relatively peaceful since then, a span of over ten years. But as the saying goes, "The world's great trend is that what is united must divide, and what is long at peace must go to war." Everyone sensed that a new "bloody battle" was likely not far off.
The Huangguzi were currently taking stock of their wares, bracing themselves for the right moment to make a killing.
No one noticed when a small sampan slipped into the midst of the other boats. A small figure sat at the prow, covered by a tattered straw mat found heaven-knows-where, with half a vegetable leaf still clinging to it.
Qin Jiuye had "requisitioned" Old Qin’s vegetable delivery sampan. She had been weaving through the forest of masts since the afternoon sun was at its fiercest. By the time the sun began to sink, she had finally grasped the knacks of this martial trade and could now navigate the waters with ease, though her punting speed couldn't quite keep up, and she was often beaten to a spot by others.
Fortunately, she had only one target in mind. Her aimless wandering on the lake was merely a ruse to avoid drawing attention to her true objective.
Qin Jiuye punted her boat back toward the tower-ship of Fangwai Temple. Under the scorching sun, there wasn't a shred of shade on the lake. She sat huddled under her straw mat, pulling it down every fifteen minutes to scan her surroundings. Yet, the tower-ship remained silent from start to finish. Not a single stone was tossed, and not a single soul was seen.
Was Yuan Qi truly that ill? Or had he coughed up more blood after being provoked by Wang Xiao earlier? Or had he simply decided to bar his doors and play the part of a shrinking turtle?
Qin Jiuye felt uneasy. For the first time, she didn't even have a thirty percent certainty in her actions. There was nothing to do but wait, and the taste of it was truly bitter.
In the past, she had managed the business of Guoran Hall with practiced ease, knowing every blade of grass in the village. But now, drifting in the center of the boundless Lixin Lake, she felt like a solitary piece of duckweed, surrounded by a vast, featureless expanse.
After waiting for another half-hour, she began to lose her patience. She told herself she had endured far harder work in the past and refused to give up now. She had begun her medical apprenticeship at eight, finished at seventeen, and established Guoran Hall at twenty. What hardships had she not seen? Now twenty-five, with years of experience under her belt, was she really afraid she couldn't outlast this? Besides, she had taken this task upon herself; she couldn't let the people at the Protectorate Manor make a laughingstock of her.
Touching the half-jade pendant hidden at her waist, Qin Jiuye gritted her teeth and stood up, punting her boat toward more distant waters to explore.
Lixin Lake was dotted with hidden shoals and small islets, with lush green islands scattered about. Large ships couldn't navigate these areas, but a small boat was perfectly nimble. Taking advantage of the clear, windless day and the calm surface of the lake, Qin Jiuye darted in and out of various spots.
Every time she passed a vessel, she used the pretext of selling elixirs to observe the situation on board. She recorded everything: which sects occupied which ships, and who was on each boat. She watched carefully as she rowed, hoping on one hand that no one would notice her so she could pass the day in peace, yet secretly hoping for something to happen so her day's labor wouldn't be in vain.
After circling the lake and as the sun sank lower, Qin Jiuye returned to the vicinity of the Fangwai Temple vessels.
The two-story tower-ship, adorned with carved dragons and painted phoenixes, remained silent. Even when she drew close and strained her ears, she couldn't hear a single human voice.
Doubt began to creep into her mind. Was there actually anyone inside that ship? Or had the entire crew slipped away unnoticed to some other place?
*Plop.*
The sound of a stone hitting the water came from behind her, about ten yards away.
Qin Jiuye snapped back to reality and turned her head. On another large ship behind her stood a figure silhouetted against the setting sun, seemingly waving at her.
She looked around. The other Huangguzi had long since realized there was no business in this area and had moved on. Her sampan was the only one nearby; there was no way they were calling for anyone else.
She checked the sky. There was less than an hour until sunset. She had agreed to meet Li Qiao later at Dou'er Marsh on the west side of the lake. Calculating the time, she could just manage one transaction.
Though she hadn't come today to earn silver, the "fine tradition" of the mistress of Guoran Hall could not be abandoned. How could she refuse business that came knocking at her door? If word reached the hundred-plus residents of Dingweng Village, wouldn't she be a joke?
It was just one deal, and perhaps she could fish for some information. She would leave immediately after. There was no harm in it.
With these thoughts, Qin Jiuye turned her boat and headed toward the large ship.
The heat from the day's sun began to accumulate on the lake's surface. There wasn't a breath of wind. Being trapped on the boat felt like being smothered under an invisible dome; the slightest movement brought a fresh coat of sweat.
The sinking sun was blinding. Sweat rolled down her face, but she didn't bother to wipe it, focusing instead on punting the boat. As she finally rowed into the ship's shadow, she looked up and realized something was wrong. The ship looked familiar—it seemed to be the very vessel of the Qiushan Sect that had been vying for position alongside Fangwai Temple this morning.
Qin Jiuye’s hand shook, and the small sampan beneath her wobbled, nearly spinning in the middle of the lake.
What now? She hadn't caught Yuan Qi, but she had stumbled upon his rival.
To gather information on Yuan Qi, she had done plenty of homework with Tang Shenyan, but she had neglected to ask much about the Qiushan Sect. What was Wang Xiao’s temperament? Was he truly the greedy, treacherous man the rumors suggested? What was the sect's reputation? Was their discipline strict? Did they have any elders practicing dark arts or madmen driven insane by unrequited love?
As she racked her brain, the sampan came to a halt. Seeing this, the person on the ship grew impatient and tossed another stone, which landed less than a yard in front of her. The threat and the urge for her to hurry were unmistakable.
Caught between a rock and a hard place, it wasn't the time to retreat. She could only take it one step at a time.
Qin Jiuye didn't dare look up at the person's intimidating gaze. With a sigh of resignation, she continued punting, slowly bringing the sampan alongside the ship's hull.
The ship sat deep in the water, its cargo unknown. A rope ladder was tossed down. Qin Jiuye struggled to climb up, and once her feet hit the deck, she saw clearly that the man who had summoned her was a burly, well-dressed middle-aged man. The long sword at his waist looked extraordinary. Though she wasn't an expert, as a village doctor who had handled many weapons of martial riffraff, she could tell that sword was not something an ordinary disciple could possess.
But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that, up close, she realized his attire was identical to what she had seen Wang Xiao wearing from a distance earlier that morning.
The Sect Leader of Qiushan had lost his biological son, which apparently benefited this top expert of the sect. Standing there against the wind with such an overbearing air, one might mistake him for the master of the sect himself.
Qin Jiuye swallowed hard. Removing her conical hat, she bowed respectfully.
"I have come as summoned. I wonder what the master wishes to see..."
The middle-aged man didn't respond immediately. Instead, he scanned her with a wary gaze.
"Who are you? I haven't seen you before."
Qin Jiuye’s heart skipped a beat. She cursed Wang Xiao’s sharp eyes for spotting a new face so easily.
The Huangguzi followed the sects around every year; over time, most became familiar faces. This was her first time doing such business, so it was natural to arouse suspicion.
At this thought, she quickly forced a smile and replied respectfully.
"The master has a keen eye. My name is Yang Yuanzhi. This is indeed my first year in this trade, though I previously gained some experience following Chief Liao of Black Water Stronghold. During the battle at Mount Yunmen, I was at his beck and call, running many medicinal salves for him."
Lying made her throat dry, and her voice sounded slightly raspy.
Of course, she had no connection to any "Chief Liao"—she had simply carried his corpse once. That was why she mentioned him. A dead man couldn't expose her shady background.
And she mentioned Black Water Stronghold not to make him think highly of her, but to lower his guard. This was a sales tactic she often used at Qingyang Market. Nine times out of ten, it worked.
From Qingyang Market to the Sword Appreciation Assembly, the rules of the *jianghu* were the same. She had simply moved from a small pond to a vast sea.
Sure enough, the man’s expression softened slightly, though his gaze remained cold.
"Since you're new, do you know the rules?"
Qin Jiuye blinked, then instinctively glanced around. She suddenly understood why he was the only one on deck and why he was asking about the "rules."
Wang Xiao was a prominent figure in the Qiushan Sect. He wanted to conduct a shady transaction and didn't want others to see, which was why he had cleared the deck and called her up alone.
Just how shady was this? He wouldn't throw her into the lake to feed the fish after the deal, would he?
Sweat beaded on her forehead. She regretted her impulsive decision. she had wanted to be a Huangguzi sifting sand in murky water, but she hadn't considered the logic of big fish eating little fish.
Taking a deep breath, she put on an honest, simple front and promised repeatedly.
"Rest assured, master. I have a terrible memory. The deals I make, the people I see, the words I hear—I forget them all the moment I turn around."
Seeing her quick wit, Wang Xiao finally nodded in satisfaction. He signaled for her to come closer and whispered.
"They say the flower boats here are a marvel. Do you have any... pills to enhance the evening's festivities?"
Qin Jiuye froze. It took every ounce of her strength not to let her true emotions show.
"Pills to enhance the evening's festivities"—he might as well have asked for "Rising Dragon Stones" or "Yang-Locking Elixirs."
She wasn't sure if Wang Xiao was righteous, but she was certain he was a massive lecher.
But on second thought, she realized that most middle-aged men who held power and were used to being revered in their sects were probably like this. Some hid it, while others flaunted it. Beneath their majestic reputations, how many could withstand scrutiny?
Still, seeking such things in broad daylight was absurd. He truly didn't treat these Huangguzi as outsiders.
Feeling a wave of disgust, Qin Jiuye kept her face neutral, acting as if she were well-versed in such matters.
"May I ask, brother, do you prefer the Dragon-Seeking Pill or the Tiger-Slaying Pill?"
It was Wang Xiao’s turn to be stunned. He hadn't expected her to have two different options ready. He asked, "What's the difference?"
Seeing him take the bait, Qin Jiuye laughed inwardly while maintaining her seasoned facade. She pulled out two bottles from a hidden pocket—one vermilion and one emerald green—items she had "learned about" recently.
"Can't you tell by the names, brother? Naturally, the Dragon-Seeking Pill is superior. Its effects are long-lasting and potent. Just one pill, and you'll be merry until dawn."
Whether it was her imagination or not, Wang Xiao seemed to pause for a moment upon seeing the two colored bottles. After a beat, he regained his composure and spoke arrogantly.
"You peddler, do you look down on me? Since I called you up, I naturally want the best and the most expensive."
Qin Jiuye was overjoyed inside, but she remained respectful. She wrapped the red "Dragon-Seeking Pill" in a lotus leaf and presented it with both hands.
Of course, only the seller knew that aside from the color of the bottles, the contents were virtually identical.
Life wasn't easy for dragons or tigers; where would one find so many to fuel such "merriment"? One shouldn't expect too much from life.
As she gloated silently, Wang Xiao suddenly changed the subject.
"I saw you lingering near that tower-ship earlier. Do you have familiar clients in Fangwai Temple?"
Qin Jiuye’s back stiffened. Cold sweat ran down her neck.
She should have known. A cunning, calculating expert like Wang Xiao, even when driven by lust, would be prepared. Why would he call her aboard just for some aphrodisiacs? Was he just looking for an easy target to kill time?
Success comes from hardship; wealth is found in danger. Since she was already in a precarious position, she might as well go all in. While finding a way out, she would try to reap some "benefits" for herself.
Qin Jiuye made up her mind and slowly turned around.
"To be honest, master, I did have some selfish motives for being there."
Wang Xiao hadn't expected her to admit her intentions so easily. He looked her over again.
The woman’s hair was a bit dry and yellow, her frame was frail, and her face bore a look of hardship. She had a timid air about her—clearly a small fry who couldn't cause any trouble.
Such a person would never dare play tricks in front of him.
Wang Xiao reached a conclusion. When he spoke again, the pressure was less, replaced by a hint of probing.
"Oh? I didn't think you had dealings with Fangwai Temple."
Qin Jiuye shook her head and waved her hands, looking distressed.
"Not at all! I just heard that Daoist Yuan Qi has been feeling a bit weak lately. I thought if I could take the opportunity to offer some humble assistance, it would be a win-win. Who knew he'd turn into a shrinking turtle and refuse to show his face?"
Wang Xiao snorted, his voice tinged with unmistakable contempt.
"You've got a thief's brain, and your calculations are sharp. But have you considered why you're the only one lingering there while no one else dares approach?"
Qin Jiuye glanced at him, sensing he had lowered his guard and was lazily fishing for information from her.
She gave a bashful smile, playing the part of the lowly peddler perfectly.
"I only saw Daoist Yuan Qi from a distance in Jiugao a month ago. If I'm not mistaken, Mister Teng Hu was with him then. Ordinary people wouldn't dare approach. I'm just a newcomer making wild guesses. If I've been reckless, just treat my words like a passing wind and don't take them to heart."
"Teng Hu?" Wang Xiao repeated the name, a cold smile curling his lips. "He still hasn't given up, it seems."
Who hadn't given up? Yuan Qi? Or Teng Hu? And given up on what?
His cryptic remark made Qin Jiuye itch with curiosity. She followed up vaguely.
"But after what happened at Baoshen Pavilion, the people of Fangwai Temple should have given up by now, shouldn't they?"
As expected, her words made Wang Xiao the curious one.
"Baoshen Pavilion? You were at Baoshen Pavilion too?"
"Just following the crowd for the excitement," Qin Jiuye chuckled, acting like a gossip. "Yuan Shuqing’s chest fetched a high price, but who knew it would turn out to be empty? The Fangwai Temple people lost their tempers on the spot, and it got so bad the authorities were called. I didn't dare stay, so I scrambled away and hid at home for half a month before daring to come out again."
Hearing this, Wang Xiao’s face filled with irrepressible mockery.
"Old Man Yuan thought he was clever, but he forgot that there's always someone more cunning. He tried to divert the trouble onto others, but in the end, he only outsmarted himself. Now his cheap son is just like his old man—still refusing to give up. I'd say the luck of Fangwai Temple has run out."
Qin Jiuye’s heart skipped. She keenly caught the hidden meaning in his words and probed further.
"Could it be that the new Daoist of Fangwai Temple came to the Sword Appreciation Assembly for the contents of that chest again?"
Wang Xiao toyed with the red bottle of "Dragon-Seeking Pills." Hearing this, he looked up and gave her a strange look.
"Why else? Do you think all these people gathered on the lake are really here for this nonsense Sword Appreciation Assembly?"
"But wasn't it said..."
Qin Jiuye stopped mid-sentence.
It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck her mind. She suddenly realized the true meaning of Wang Xiao’s words.
She had wanted to ask: *Wasn't it said that the contents of the chest had vanished without a trace?* But then she realized that while she meant the secret formula that disappeared from Baoshen Pavilion, Wang Xiao was referring to the secret formula in a broader sense—not just the one in Yuan Shuqing’s chest, but the possibility that the exact same thing was about to appear at this very assembly, under the guise of a martial competition.
She had assumed Yuan Qi was someone who knew about the formula and was trying to investigate it, but she hadn't considered another possibility.
What if Yuan Shuqing on Qingping Road was just the first ripple of a massive underwater current? There was no better place to hide a secret than the *jianghu*, especially when a peerless treasure entered the fray. Everyone would guard their information tightly, pretending to know nothing while waiting for the chance to seize it—unaware that they were falling right into the trap of the person behind the scenes. Perhaps that "secret formula" had already silently permeated every corner of the martial world, fueled by human greed.
Hidden messages unknown to outsiders, treasures stained with blood and lives, martial powers converging from all directions—it all felt so familiar. For a moment, she felt as if she were back on that rainy night on Qingping Road at Mount Xizhu, or at the chaotic downfall of Baoshen Pavilion, or at the shadow-filled birthday banquet at the Su Manor...
Qin Jiuye’s fingers twitched. She realized her palms were soaked with cold sweat.
She had stayed here too long. Any longer, and she would be playing with fire.
Composing herself, she looked at the sky with feigned urgency.
"Oh my, look at me chatting away and forgetting the time! I have several distinguished guests waiting for medicine on the west side. They said sunset was the deadline. I've already delayed, so I must hurry..."
Wang Xiao didn't reply immediately. He stared at her for a moment, making her skin crawl, before slowly speaking.
"For a newcomer, you certainly know a lot."
The sweat she had just wiped away returned. She forced a smile as she put on her conical hat, her eyes already darting toward her small sampan floating below.
"Not at all! It's just that I felt a connection with the master, so I spoke a bit more. If there's nothing else, I shall take my leave."
With that, she barely dared to look at his expression. She hurriedly cupped her hands, turned, and scrambled down the ship. The rope ladder seemed to be knotted, tripping her up, and she practically tumbled back onto her sampan.
Just as she settled into her boat, Wang Xiao’s voice came from above.
"Wait."
Qin Jiuye turned back tremulously, only to see several pieces of broken silver falling toward her, nearly punching another hole in her recently repaired deck.
"Your payment for the medicine."
From the time she finished her apprenticeship until now, this was the first time Qin Jiuye had forgotten to collect payment for her medicine.
She gathered the silver, hurriedly called out her thanks, and punted her boat away as fast as she could.
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
---|---|---
黄姑子 | Huangguzi | Slang for itinerant peddlers/informants; literally a type of scavenger fish.
鸣金 | Clanging of Gold | Likely referring to the start of the martial competition/assembly.
杨远志 | Yang Yuanzhi | Qin Jiuye's alias (Yuanzhi is also a medicinal herb, Polygala).
寻龙丹 | Dragon-Seeking Pill | A euphemistic name for an aphrodisiac.
打虎丹 | Tiger-Slaying Pill | A euphemistic name for an aphrodisiac.
滕狐 | Teng Hu | A character mentioned as an associate of Yuan Qi.
元老怪 | Old Man Yuan | A derogatory reference to the previous leader of Fangwai Temple.
