Since its inception, the Sword Appreciation Assembly had gradually been streamlined from its original seven days down to three.
The first day was for "Entering the Formation," the second for "Striking Gold," and the third for "Opening the Edge." At the end of the three days, everyone would return to their respective homes—a crisp, efficient, and compact affair.
On the first day, the various sects arrived as scheduled. After a brief meeting, the "Entering the Formation" ceremony commenced.
This "Entering" referred to jade, not people. The jade used in the ceremony consisted of a single jade sword and twelve jade *ruyi* scepters. These scepters were commissioned from twelve different sects chosen by rotation; while each was of the same length, their designs differed, and their specific details were kept secret until the day of the ceremony. The jade sword, engraved with inscriptions, was crafted by a neutral party in the martial world. It was similar in length to the scepters and was kept in a matching gold scabbard, personally guarded by that year’s "Sword Bearer." On the day of the ceremony, the Sword Bearer would, before the assembled witnesses, scatter the twelve scepters and the unsheathed jade sword into various locations. With that, the first day’s rites were complete.
This year, the jade sword had been submerged in the lake to suit the local geography. When the morning sun broke over the water on the second day, it was time to begin the search.
Whoever found the jade sword first and returned it to its gold scabbard would be declared the year's victor. The moment the jade sword entered the scabbard, it would emit a unique, resonant chime—the so-called "Striking Gold." During the competition, participants were forbidden from carrying their own weapons; they could only fight bare-handed or use the thirteen jade pieces found in the lake. However, if the jade in one's hand was shattered, that person was immediately disqualified. If no winner emerged by sunset, the contest would resume at sunrise the following day. If the jade sword itself was destroyed, there would be no victor that year.
As for the third day, it was the long-awaited "Day of Sword Appreciation."
Just as the assembly was about more than just looking at swords, the "Opening of the Edge" was not about literally sharpening a blade. Rather, it was the public unveiling and presentation of the victor's reward. The entire process was likened to a sword finally revealing its sharp edge, making it the most exhilarating moment of the event.
At this point, one might ask: if this was a martial arts assembly where blades were crossed and heights were tested, why call it "Sword Appreciation"? Was there truly a peerless blade every year that compelled martial artists from across the land to travel thousands of miles just to admire it?
Of course not.
Everyone in the martial world knew that "Sword Appreciation" was merely an elegant euphemism. Years ago, the Xiangliang region had been plagued by political instability. The late Emperor had eventually secured the realm through civil governance, and the imperial court had followed his will by suppressing the martial in favor of the civil. In the capital and its surrounding prefectures, the mere mention of martial arts caused faces to pale. Local garrisons even had to conduct their drills behind closed doors, fearing that a single slip-up would allow a malicious tongue to accuse them of raising private armies for rebellion.
Yet, most people who practiced martial arts had only two paths: if they could not serve in the military, they had to enter the "Jianghu"—the martial world.
For a time, the various sects became "sanctuaries" for many martial masters. However, all under heaven belongs to the Emperor; even the furthest reaches of the Jianghu could not remain entirely detached. Soon, this political climate began to spread from the court to the martial world. Local commanders, under the banner of "rectifying martial conduct," used sect disputes as a pretext to crack down on several prominent martial families, using them as examples to suppress the rest.
Before this, the Jianghu had long been a landscape of rival sects. While major conflicts were rare, minor frictions were constant. Old grudges were deeply rooted between the powers of the east, west, north, and south; they loathed one another. If one party were proposed as a leader, the others would surely rise in opposition. An alliance seemed an impossible dream.
It was then that the World’s Number One Villa appeared out of nowhere. In a short time, it claimed the top of the martial rankings through absolute strength. Furthermore, by embracing all martial styles under heaven, it earned the submission of all quarters. Many neutral sects began to look to the Villa for leadership, hoping for a chance to seek its protection against the pressures of the imperial court.
The World’s Number One Villa rose to the occasion. Not only did it defy court pressure to revive the annual martial assembly, but it also mediated countless sect disputes, saving many small, fringe sects from being purged by the government.
However, the event that truly solidified the Villa’s position as the undisputed leader of the Jianghu was the bloody chaotic war seventeen years ago.
At that time, the legend of the *Andao Military Manual* had sparked a violent frenzy to find the lost secret scripture. Any expert with a shred of ambition threw themselves into the search. The great sects exhausted their manpower, seeking the techniques within to achieve the ultimate goal of unifying the martial world.
In such an extreme and hostile environment, desire gave birth to countless bizarre techniques and murderous monsters. These "human weapons," who had grown powerful in a very short time driven by greed, were mostly cruel and stopped at nothing to achieve their ends. Many innocents were caught in the crossfire and buried in the wilderness; nameless corpses were a common sight by the roadside. The remains of many former masters were reduced to severed limbs, and the number of cenotaphs and sword-graves was beyond counting.
After this chaos, the vitality of the entire Jianghu was severely depleted. Many great sects lost their glory, leaving behind only elderly gatekeepers and seven- or eight-year-old disciples, no longer capable of maintaining order. The World’s Number One Villa stepped up during this crisis, issuing "Demon-Slaying Invitations" and asking every sect to write the names of the various monsters in blood. Uniting everyone, they eventually hunted down and killed the villains one by one.
From then on, everyone in the Jianghu knew one thing: whether the World’s Number One Villa was truly the best in the world was unknown, but it had certainly set the example that the "number one" should set.
Following this incident, the martial arts of many experts who perished in the struggle became lost arts. Some once-brilliant sects gradually withered, unable to pass down their heritage. The Villa stepped in once more, not only providing funds to find homes and futures for the descendants of those tragic families but also exhausting its resources to recover lost martial manuals for its archives. Every year, it invited the emerging youth of the Jianghu to the Villa to study; most of these individuals went on to become the new leaders of their respective sects.
Because the World’s Number One Villa set no threshold—asking nothing of one's background, past, or talent—its gates were soon overwhelmed, leading to inevitable chaos. After some consideration, the Villa Master decided to hold annual gatherings in various locations under the name of "Sword Appreciation," with the goal of selecting outstanding juniors who had distinguished themselves over the past year to enter the Villa for study.
The threshold for entry rose like a flooding tide, yet the secret scriptures were right there; if one did not claim them, they would fall into the hands of others. How could the sect leaders, having tasted the sweetness of this arrangement, yield such an opportunity to others? They would push their disciples to win the assembly at any cost. Seizing such a chance was no different from finding a shortcut to the summit; with a bit of luck in finding a compatible technique, one could save over a decade of cultivation and become a top-ranked expert in a single bound.
The Sword Appreciation Assembly had now been held for sixteen years. Over that time, the competition in this arena designed for the rising stars of the Jianghu had grown increasingly fierce. Had it not been for the masters of each sect personally attending to maintain balance, it was hard to say if it wouldn't have devolved into another bloodbath.
In previous years, the "Striking Gold" usually concluded before noon. This was because the competition venues were often treacherous; for ordinary people, even standing firm was difficult, let alone exchanging blows. From sunrise to high noon, it was a test of will and resolve for everyone; many participants were exhausted and forced out before a victor could even be decided.
This year, the venue was set directly on the water. The lake was vast and open, making it difficult to hide or dodge, and even harder to find a footing. Consequently, everyone assumed the confrontation would not last long.
However, two hours passed in a flash, and the situation on the field only grew more intense, with no sign of a clear outcome.
Upon reflection, the spectators guessed this likely had to do with the rumors leaked yesterday. Whether the "Green Blade" truly existed was still unknown, but everyone sensed that the prize for this year's victor was extraordinary, offering more than just a few benefits. After a brief first round of testing, the young experts' moves became increasingly sharp, each fighting with a life-risking desperation. Meanwhile, the elders and sect leaders sat upon their great ships, appearing as immovable as mountains, yet their teapots and wine bowls were refilled again and again, and their trips to the latrine were frequent—an unspoken anxiety leaking through their silence.
On a stone beach on the southern shore of Lixin Lake, however, the atmosphere was much more relaxed and lively.
The area near the water was packed with a crowd of spectators dressed in dusty grey. Compared to the figures flying about on the lake, their forms were ragged and unkempt—some too bloated, others too thin, leaning this way and that like stunted, rotten gourds on a vine after the start of autumn.
They didn't care, immersed in the heated atmosphere of "watching the battle," occasionally jeering or cheering, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
But a few more glances revealed that the cheering always happened at odd moments. They didn't care how exquisite a move was or whose internal energy had improved; they only watched for who was unlucky, who slipped up, or who was hit by a dirty trick.
These were the "Yellow Maidens," corpse-bearers and scavengers who earned their living from the misfortunes of others.
When someone fell into the water, they cheered in unison; when someone was blindsided, they clapped in delight; if someone was sent flying while spitting blood, they would stomp their feet in joy. Each one looked like a rogue hired by a rival theater specifically to heckle, wishing the hundred people fighting in the chaos would all perish together right then and there, their blood staining the waters of Lixin Lake red.
As the crowd watched with gusto, a woman's voice, tinged with doubt, suddenly rang out.
"Are those truly the top experts of each sect?"
The large men standing on tiptoe and craning their necks looked around, finally spotting a thin, small woman squeezed like a noodle between a mass of hips and thighs.
The woman had only enough space to stand on one foot; she had to switch from her left to her right every so often. She looked unsteady, yet possessed a strange stability, her clear, dark eyes watching the distant lake surface without blinking.
A slightly older man nearby, speaking with a sense of superiority, said, "Looking at you, it seems you've come to criticize before you've even recognized who's who."
Qin Jiuye blinked, completely ignoring his attitude as she contentedly played her role as a "Jianghu novice."
" I just think they look too young."
Compared to the group fighting on the lake last night, they were far too young.
The people around her didn't know her thoughts, and someone quickly chimed in.
"The old fogies think it's beneath their dignity to step in, so the head disciples have to come out to maintain the facade, don't they? They might not be top-tier experts yet, but among the younger generation, they're definitely the ones making waves. In a few years, they'll be the new sect leaders. It's never wrong to get familiar with their faces now."
Qin Jiuye didn't speak, only watching thoughtfully for a while longer. For some reason, the scene of the boy carrying her up the city wall last night flashed through her mind.
At that time, she hadn't known the standard of people in the Jianghu, thinking perhaps any random servant boy could achieve that after three or five years of practice. But today, seeing the male disciple of the Lingxiao Sect fall into the water three times in a row, and the head disciple of the Tiankui Sect gasping for breath after just a few leaps, she suddenly felt that Li Qiao’s skills might not be as "unpresentable" as she had imagined.
But even if his skills were good, what of it? The key to whether you were a nobody or a rising star didn't seem to lie there.
The young disciples on the lake each possessed several divine weapons or sharp blades. Even the clothes they wore were extremely sophisticated; some were cleverly designed to look like ordinary garments but actually hid at least three layers of soft armor beneath—you could strip off several layers and still not see skin.
Qin Jiuye felt that, in all their years of training, they might never have truly tasted the bite of a blade.
Then, she thought of the boy from last night, his finger snapped, kneeling in the mud and sand.
The reason he was so silent was perhaps because he had already experienced countless similar things. He had no precious blade in his hand, no armor on his body, and no entire sect standing behind him. He could only support himself.
If you had a legitimate, prestigious background, even if your techniques were not particularly outstanding, you could still hold a rightful place in this Jianghu. But if you were just some brat who jumped out of a mountain gully, even if your techniques were peerless, you would at most be categorized as "unorthodox and low-class," never allowed a seat at the table.
After all, in this Jianghu, for the sake of a small pie that couldn't be cut or interests that couldn't be shared, there were far too many instances of stabbing someone in the back under the guise of "sparring and instruction."
Just like this seemingly fair and just competition before her: on the surface, it was the younger generation exchanging moves, but in reality, the elders of each sect were using their internal energy from behind the scenes. If only one or two people cheated, then perhaps one side could truly stand out and create a gap; but if everyone was cheating, the gap closed again. It simply became a matter of whose cheating was superior, who could come out on top among this crowd of despicable people.
This was no Sword Appreciation Assembly; it was a "Shameless Appreciation Assembly."
Qin Jiuye sighed inwardly, feeling that her fresh interest in the Jianghu had diminished significantly after only one day. The next moment, she twisted her body and began to squeeze her way out, leaving the people nearby startled.
"You're not watching anymore? The exciting part is just beginning."
The "Striking Gold" competition certainly couldn't be called unexciting, but she had already witnessed the highlight of highlights by the shore of Lixin Lake last night. Today's little skirmish couldn't catch her eye.
Qin Jiuye waved her hand, giving up her one-footed spot.
"I'm a medicine seller. I'd better go wait over there."
"Over there" referred to Xuanyu Shoal, Qin Jiuye's goal for the day.
Xuanyu Shoal was only about a hundred paces from the stone beach where the crowd watched the spectacle. However, because the water was much deeper away from the shore, allowing boats to dock, it had become the "rear camp" for today's lake duel. The great ships floating in the center of the lake were for the elders to maintain their prestige and could not be moved lightly. Therefore, the lowest-ranking disciples of each sect were left waiting here. Whenever they saw one of their own bleeding or defeated in the field, they would immediately row a fast boat into the lake to retrieve them. Their movements were so practiced they rivaled old fishermen who had been catching turtles for years; they likely performed the same task every year.
Among them, there might be young warriors with ambitions, but they had no chance to take the field, and it was highly likely they would never get that chance.
They would waste away in their constant gazing from afar until the blades in their hands grew rusty.
A splash sounded ahead as another fast boat left the shore.
The Tiankui Sect had already lost four young disciples today. They clearly hadn't expected this year's "Striking Gold" to be so fierce. The expensive injury medicines they had prepared earlier couldn't withstand such consumption; by the time the fifth person was carried down, they were already running short.
The Yellow Maidens on Xuanyu Shoal were as restless as small insects and crabs on a beach after the tide recedes. Each was rubbing their hands in anticipation, waiting for a call from the martial guests to rush forward and sell the injury medicines and tonics they had been clutching all day.
Seeing a man from the Tiankui Sect stand up and look over, just as he was about to speak, a line of "immortal children" with their faces covered in white silk filed in from the side. These people were all dressed in caps and robes of the same style. Their steps seemed light and slow, yet they moved with an unstoppable momentum, instantly occupying the flattest area in the center of Xuanyu Shoal.
The leader was dressed in pale green cloth with a matching silk headcloth, exuding an air of ethereal detachment. But when the person turned around the next moment, Qin Jiuye took a closer look and was startled.
It was a somewhat familiar oval face. Beneath crescent brows were a pair of cold, ruthless "sanpaku" eyes. Was this not the one known as "White Ghost Umbrella," Mr. Teng Hu?
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
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入阵 | Entering the Formation | The first day of the Sword Appreciation Assembly.
鸣金 | Striking Gold | The second day of the assembly; also the sound of the jade sword entering the scabbard.
开锋 | Opening the Edge | The third day of the assembly; the awarding of prizes.
玉如意 | Jade Ruyi | Ceremonial scepters used in the assembly's ritual.
执剑者 | Sword Bearer | The person designated to guard the jade sword.
襄梁 | Xiangliang | A geographical region in the novel.
天下第一庄 | World's Number One Villa | The leading neutral power in the martial world.
安道兵谱 | Andao Military Manual | A legendary lost martial arts scripture.
璃心湖 | Lixin Lake | The location of the current assembly.
青刀 | Green Blade | A rumored legendary prize for the assembly.
黄姑子 | Yellow Maidens | Scavengers/corpse-bearers/medicine peddlers who follow martial conflicts for profit.
凌霄派 | Lingxiao Sect | One of the martial sects.
天魁门 | Tiankui Sect | One of the martial sects.
悬鱼矶 | Xuanyu Shoal | A rocky outcrop or shoal used as a medical base during the assembly.
滕狐 | Teng Hu | A character also known as "White Ghost Umbrella."
白鬼伞 | White Ghost Umbrella | The moniker of Teng Hu.
赏贱大会 | Shameless Appreciation Assembly | A pun on "Sword Appreciation Assembly" (赏剑大会), using the homophone "jian" (cheap/shameless).
