On the deck, Li Qiao sneezed violently.
It was the third time he had sneezed since boarding. It seemed to be caused by the moldy deck, or perhaps the wafting scent of cosmetic powder drifting from the cabin.
Exclamations mixed with flirtatious laughter poured incessantly from the carved wooden windows beside him, drowning out the churning lake waves and the sounds of combat atop them.
A crowd of young ladies and masters, along with their valets and maids, nearly capsized the sightseeing barge. Whenever the experts on the lake flew to the left, the crowd surged to the left; when they flew to the right, the crowd followed. The poor vessel rocked precariously in the water, looking as though a single large wave could overturn it at any moment.
The boatmen, who had taken a few extra copper coins against their better judgment, grew nervous. They sensed the dilapidated boat couldn't hold much longer but dared not show it, huddling together in anxious whispers.
Among them, only one person remained silent from start to finish. He was a young servant who had just arrived today, standing alone at the stern. No matter how the deck tilted, his posture remained as steady as a stone mooring post.
At the moment, he was silently organizing the heavy anchor rope. The rope, as thick as a thumb, was coarse and heavy, but his movements were swift. With a few deft turns, he cleared the tangles and efficiently dropped the heavy anchor stone into the lake. Only then did the swaying hull stabilize.
The boat boss, who had been frantic since morning, stole a glance at the young man. He felt immensely fortunate that he hadn't judged the lad by his looks, or he would have missed out on such an efficient worker. Moreover, when he had previously let the boy stand at the bow, it had clearly attracted many wealthy women to the boat.
*These rich hags certainly know how to enjoy themselves,* the boat boss thought sourly. *Spending their husbands' silver to watch young martial heroes, and even picking out a handsome servant to look at.*
He grumbled inwardly while shouting at the other idling boatmen as if they were livestock.
These veteran sailors were lazy and slippery, hard to manage. But the young man looked inexperienced and likely easy to control. As the boat boss plotted how to trick this "green chick" into working a few extra days, he heard footsteps behind him. A young man in yellow robes emerged from the wooden stairs, half-embracing a slender woman.
To be so physically entangled in broad daylight—she was certainly no lady of virtue.
The boat boss thought with a mix of envy and resentment, forcing his eyes away from the woman’s soft waist. He put on a fawning smile and approached the man in yellow.
"What are your orders, guest?"
The man in yellow didn't speak; it was the woman beside him who opened her mouth.
"Is there a small boat? I want to see the action up close."
The boat boss froze, glanced at the man in yellow, and spoke reluctantly. "You might not know, but while there are no real blades involved in the struggle for the Jade Sword, the contests between these martial artists—even just the wind from their palms and fists—are more than ordinary folk like us can handle. Look at the other sightseeing boats; which one dares to get close? We are already considered near; others won't even leave the shore."
As the boat boss spoke, the woman’s gaze lingered on the young servant in black. She couldn't hide her curiosity: *Is business by Lixin Lake so difficult these days? Such a handsome youth with such delicate features, working as a common laborer on a shady boat—what a waste.*
Before the boat boss could finish his list of excuses, the woman interrupted impatiently.
"If you aren't willing, just send someone else with us." She flicked her eyes toward the youth in black. "Him. He'll do."
The boat boss finally understood. He straightened his back, his voice taking on a tone of feigned difficulty.
"Ah, it's not that I'm unwilling, but this is a small business and we're short-handed. As you can see, even I, the owner, have to work myself to the bone. There are only a few people I can order around. He needs to serve tea and fruit upstairs in a moment. If he's taken away, I'm afraid my business will suffer."
Hearing this, the woman huffed and detached an exquisitely embroidered pouch from her willow-thin waist. Seeing this, the man in yellow respectfully took the pouch, turned, and arrogantly tossed several pieces of silver at the boat boss, his nose in the air.
"Is that enough? If not, I'll keep adding until you're willing to launch the boat."
The boat boss caught the silver, weighing it in his palm while his eyes still darted toward the pouch in the man's hand.
"To tell you the truth, he is actually my distant nephew. I promised his aunt I would look after him. If I let him go and something happens to him, how will I explain it to the family..."
A few more pieces of silver flew out. The boat boss immediately turned to the silent youth.
"You, go with them."
****** ****** ******
The noise of the crowd was left behind on the dilapidated barge, but the lake surface did not grow quiet; instead, it filled with a different sound.
Once the small boat had been carried about two or three miles by the waves, the man and woman seemed to become sewn together. They laughed loudly one moment and whispered into each other's ears the next. The woman’s hands never left the man’s robes, stroking from left to right, from outside to inside—a true "bone-melting touch" that left the man breathless and red-eyed. Had they not been in the open, he would have likely pinned her down right then and there.
What red-blooded youth wouldn't feel his heart stir or dark thoughts arise at such a sight? Yet, no matter how she flirted or hinted, the servant in black remained entirely unresponsive.
He kept his head down, focused on rowing. Occasionally, he looked around to get his bearings, his gaze never resting on her for even a second.
The woman’s expression soured. She pushed the man in yellow away and began adjusting the pins in her hair.
The man, burning with lust, was caught off guard by the rejection and hurriedly leaned back in. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
The woman glanced at the servant and rubbed her temples with half-closed eyes. "The boat is rocking too much. I feel a bit dizzy."
The man froze, then immediately vented his anger on the youth. "How are you rowing? You can't even do this simple task!"
However, the youth didn't seem to care about his outburst. His rowing rhythm didn't falter for a second as he looked out across the lake.
"I saw someone die over there by the Tiantong Sect. I was worried the fighting was getting too intense, so I steered us away."
The man in yellow shuddered and squinted his eyes to look. Sure enough, he saw flashes of blades and swords on the water, and a faint crimson hue spreading through the waves.
The woman’s expression also turned tense. "Have we avoided it now?"
"We have."
The couple both breathed a sigh of relief, thinking they had simply been too lost in their passion to notice. But then the youth continued.
"However, the people from Black Wind Ferry are pursuing from the other side. It looks like they're seeking revenge."
The man in yellow couldn't hide his panic. Ignoring the woman, he squeezed himself toward the center of the small boat. "Then... then what should we do? Will we be caught in the crossfire?"
The youth sighed, his voice tinged with a faint sadness. "Blades and swords have no eyes. We can only try to stay as low as possible."
Before he had even finished speaking, the previously enthusiastic couple "clattered" down to the bottom of the boat, crouching as skillfully as two nesting hens. They even pushed and shoved each other, complaining about the lack of space.
Just as they settled, they heard another sigh and instantly tensed up.
"What... what is it now?"
The youth’s voice was silent for a moment before speaking again.
"Nothing. It just seems the people from the Mystic Gold Sect have released poison smoke. The wind is unfavorable, and it's drifting this way."
As soon as he said this, the two lying at the bottom of the boat dared not even breathe, let alone ask more questions.
After an unknown amount of time, the man in yellow felt his back aching and his breathing becoming difficult. He strained his ears to listen, but heard nothing but the wind. Trembling, he poked half his head over the gunwale, only to find the sky clear and the air fresh. Where was the Mystic Gold Sect's poison smoke? The stern was empty; the servant in black was gone, leaving only two worn wooden oars bobbing in the ripples.
****** ****** ******
On the western shore of Qionghu Island, there was no sound except for the wind rustling the thin grass.
Though hundreds of sects were gathered on Lixin Lake, only one held sway over Qionghu Island: the World's Number One Villa.
Although no one was visible on the island, it was actually crawling with the Villa's scouts and sentries. If any ignorant martial arts juniors dared to approach, they would be knocked into the lake at best, or secretly executed at worst, vanishing along with the steam rising from the island.
However, such defenses were mostly aimed at martial artists. They were much more lax toward "clueless" common spectators.
Thanks to that couple, he had been spared a great deal of effort.
Li Qiao tied his face mask and tightened his boot laces. Following a stream that flowed into the lake, he headed toward the heart of Qionghu Island.
The Longshu River was dense with waterways and scenic sandbars, but Qionghu Island was named after a divine vessel for a reason that only those who stepped onto it could understand.
Legend said the Jade Pot (Qionghu) flowed with emerald and azure liquid. Within its hard yet translucent body, one could see the jade nectar that circulated day and night. It was used by the gods to melt the souls of demons; mortals could not covet it, lest they be burned or consumed by green flames.
Ancient legends were naturally unverifiable, and no one had seen the actual Jade Pot, but everyone who stepped onto the island marveled that if the jade vessel were to shatter and its nectar spill out, it would look exactly like this.
Every depression here was filled with emerald or azure pond water, each shrouded in lingering steam. The heat carried by this steam came from the thousands of small streams feeding into the pools. Looking closely at the springs seeping from the dark gray rock crevices, the paths they traveled were covered in thick deposits of scorched yellow and greenish-blue. Up close, one could smell a pungent odor.
Before the waters of Lixin Lake rose, this place had been a strategic pass between two mountains. A hot spring had emerged from the mountain crevices, flowing down over the years and eroding the rocks below into many caves of various sizes. Now that the water level had risen, most of the caves were submerged. Only two or three higher ones remained visible. After years of wind and rain, the cave ceilings had collapsed, turning them into sinkholes. At the bottom of these sinkholes lay small, boiling pools. The ground was barren, surrounded only by gray-black rock.
The bottom of the largest sinkhole on the island was exceptionally flat. The rock walls converged at the top to form a natural dome. Currently, golden fish-shaped bronze bells hung from the stone ceiling. Sunlight filtered through, making it look like a shower of golden rain. At the densest part of this "golden rain" stood a four-sided stone niche. The winner of the "Sounding the Gold" competition would receive their reward here tomorrow, and Di Mo, the Master of the World's Number One Villa, would personally host a banquet for the heroes, bringing the annual martial arts grand ceremony to its climax.
But today, it was silent.
Thousands of fish bells remained still, waiting. If an intruder disturbed the air, the bells would emit a fine sound to alert the shadows lurking in the dark.
Furthermore, Qionghu Island had a unique geology. The color of the mountain itself was different from the surrounding islands, likely due to the strangely colored streams and pools at its base. The closer one got to the sinkhole, the sparser the vegetation became. Within a hundred paces, one often couldn't find a single bush for cover. If one approached from the front, they would be completely exposed within a hundred yards of the entrance.
Approaching from the mountain cliffs at the back was equally fraught with difficulty. A single slip into the hot springs below would result in being scalded to the bone—a most undignified way to die. Moreover, swifts and bats gathered on the cave walls year-round. Their droppings and nests covered the rock, making it hard to find a foothold. Any disturbance would startle these sensitive winged creatures; if one flew out, the entire colony would follow, serving as another form of alarm.
Such a perfect location was naturally the best place to guard precious items.
But Di Mo was cunning by nature and an expert at reading hearts. The most conspicuous places often held nothing good; instead, they were traps.
Li Qiao lay prone in the shadow of a shallow pit. He took one last look at the stone niche at the bottom of the sinkhole before turning toward the other side of the rock wall.
On the precipice backing the mountain, there was a spring hidden behind a waterfall.
The spring was located directly above the dome of the sinkhole, surrounded by cliffs and mist. Occasionally, light from the cave would pierce through the waterfall, looking like a patch of sunset clouds suspended halfway up the mountain.
The location of this spring was so peculiar that there seemed to be no path to it. Only by rounding the edge of the cliff could one see a hidden stone path. This path connected two nearly vertical cliffs, cleverly linking the spring to the cave where the stone niche was kept. Following that steep path led to the full view of the spring. The outer edge of the spring was light blue, but the center turned pitch black, like the eye of a demon. Bubbles constantly rose from the bottomless depths, as if a monster hidden in the abyss were breathing.
The island was like a Jade Pot; at the bottom of the Jade Pot, demons were naturally hidden.
Li Qiao stared at that eerie blue, then crouched down, slowly reaching his hand into the steaming spring.
The current swirled against his skin but did not burn him. However, he knew that if he had chosen a spot even an inch away, he would have been met with boiling water.
This was where cold and hot springs met. The hot spring rose from the earth, while the cold spring came from the waterfall seeping through the mountain walls. The two merged to form a warm vortex in the pool.
However, water is formless and colorless. Accurately distinguishing the boundary between cold and hot water was an exhausting task. A slight lapse in concentration could result in severe burns, let alone trying to hold one's breath and retrieve an object in secret.
Li Qiao withdrew his hand and re-examined the spring.
A human face appeared on the fluctuating surface.
He knew it was his own face, yet for some reason, he felt as if he were looking at another.
The face in his memory seemed forever half-hidden in mist, coming from the depths and returning to them. Anyone touched by the mist surrounding him would be dragged into the chaotic darkness along with him.
He hated everything related to water, yet that man was the exact opposite.
Di Mo, the Master of the World's Number One Villa, was a man who loved to be accompanied by water in all things. It was said that in his early years, he had damaged his lungs in mountain miasma, such that he had to remain in places with abundant moisture at all times.
No one understood better than Di Mo: the enemies who can kill you often come from your side.
Li Qiao had reason to believe that this puzzle was intentionally left for "insiders" like him. Only someone from the World's Number One Villa would so thoroughly understand the Master's habits and arrangements. But those who left the Villa carried a fear of everything related to water in their very bones.
It was a fear accumulated over years, a conditioned dread more effective than any sophisticated defense or powerful guard. It could silently disable a person from a thousand miles away, causing a sharp, straight blade to snap.
Li Qiao forced himself to take that step.
The hand holding his blade was shaking. His face was as pale as sun-bleached lantern paper. Cold sweat dampened the hair at his temples and flowed down his jaw into his collar, creating a small dark patch.
His toes were only inches from the spring, but he could not move any closer.
The bubbles rising from the water seemed to split into countless eyes, staring at him from every angle. The popping bubbles crackled, growing denser and louder...
Li Qiao suddenly recoiled three steps, then fell heavily to his knees on the gravel-strewn ground.
No, it still wasn't working.
His master's blade was important, but not important enough to make him take this step.
Perhaps he needed to wait; today was not the best time.
Di Mo was suspicious and calculating. Even if he got the blade now, he might not be able to leave the island smoothly. He needed an opportunity, a moment that would provide him with cover.
The young swordsman calculated his future plans, trying to use every detail to dilute the sense of failure from retreating in fear.
Standing up, he took one last look at the deep spring and turned to head back the way he came.
The fine black rocks crunched slightly under his feet. His emotions were a chaotic mess, but his movements to brush away his footprints were practiced and swift.
The massive waterfall loomed before him again. Just as he was about to exit the stone path, his footsteps stopped.
Li Qiao turned around, looking at the yellow-green deposits near the hot spring.
In fact, shortly after landing on the island, he had discovered that the island was not covered in ordinary pond water, but sulfur pools.
In the past, he wouldn't have noticed such things, but this morning, she had mentioned it in passing. She liked these strange and curious things. If he could bring some back, she would likely be delighted and might even praise him.
After a moment's thought, he walked back to the pool and pulled out a flattened piece of oilpaper from his person.
It was the oilpaper used to wrap the sugar cakes—perfect for this task.
He wasn't sure which parts were pure sulfur and which were just impurities, so he used his blade to scrape a bit of everything. Before wrapping it, he habitually popped the last bit of sugar cake from the paper into his mouth.
A faint sweetness spread across his tongue. He remembered again how she had pressed this remaining half-cake into his hand last night.
Her fingertips had been cool, but the cake was still warm. The heat had traveled through the oilpaper into his palm. It was only a tiny bit of warmth, yet it seemed as though it hadn't dissipated for a long time.
Now the cake was completely cold, but he could still feel that temperature in a daze. He chewed slowly, as if he could savor every bit of flavor, as if he could experience the kind of happiness she spoke of...
"What are you doing?"
A man's voice suddenly sounded behind him, carrying three parts confusion and seven parts mockery.
The sound of the waterfall had masked the newcomer's breathing, or perhaps he had been too immersed in the taste of the sugar cake to notice until the person spoke.
Li Qiao placed his left hand on his scabbard and slowly turned his head. He saw a somewhat familiar figure standing at the other end of the waterfall.
He couldn't see the man's face clearly, but he recognized the voice.
It was Yu Xiao, whom he had encountered just last night.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 琼壶岛 | Qionghu Island | Lit. "Jade Pot Island." |
| 琼壶之底 | Bottom of the Jade Pot | A specific location on the island. |
| 龙枢江 | Longshu River | The river where the lake and islands are located. |
| 狄墨 | Di Mo | Master of the World's Number One Villa. |
| 鸣金 | Sounding the Gold | The name of the martial arts competition/event. |
| 石硫磺 | Realgar/Stone Sulfur | Natural sulfur deposits. |
| 天同门 | Tiantong Sect | A martial arts sect. |
| 黑风渡 | Black Wind Ferry | A martial arts organization/sect. |
| 玄金门 | Mystic Gold Sect | A martial arts sect known for poison. |
| 观湖船 | Sightseeing boat | Boats used to watch the events on the lake. |
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