Secret Recipe | Chapter 14 | A Hand in the Dark | Novela.app

Even before the disciple of the Fangwaiguan Sect had sliced off a man’s ear, Li Qiao knew that the day’s outcome was already set in stone. The contents of the box were gone, or perhaps the box had been empty from the very beginning. Regardless of the truth, for those with hidden agendas, there was no longer any reason to linger. Perhaps this entire affair had been a trap from start to finish, and he was now caught within it, unable to discern what the architect of this scheme truly intended or who their target was. The faces of those brushing past him were stretched into blurred shadows by the dim light. He seemed to recognize familiar countenances among those shadows, yet they felt entirely alien—nothing more than silhouettes possessed of features. Amidst the shifting play of light and shadow, only the swaying back of a woman’s head remained fixed in his vision, like a tuft of willow catkin stuck before his eyes that he could not shake off no matter what. Qin Jiuye hurried forward, not daring to pause for a single breath, squeezing desperately through the crowd toward the exit. Someone in the throng had already fallen victim to the green beetles; the insects clung tightly to the man's face as he swung his weapon frantically in a mad rage. Another surge of panic rippled through the martial artists huddled in the darkness. As the crowd pressed outward from the center, Qin Jiuye felt a massive force strike her from the side. Her hand suddenly went empty. When she turned her head, the youth who had been following her was nowhere to be seen. He had been fine the whole way; why, at the critical moment, had he thrown her previous instructions entirely to the wind? Qin Jiuye was consumed by anxiety. For a moment, she couldn't tell if this distress was for her own predicament or for her muddled assistant, Xiao Li, who couldn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation. What she did not know was that the youth, carrying the medicinal basket, was actually standing in the shadows nearby. He had not gone far. Li Qiao quietly observed the thin, small woman. He watched as she looked around frantically for a moment before, seemingly not daring to stay any longer, she turned and left. That was how it should be. In a moment of crisis, who could truly look out for another? Li Qiao lowered his eyes calmly. Then, without further hesitation, he turned and headed toward the heart of the chaos. Now that the contents of the box were gone, to give up now would mean leaving empty-handed. He never engaged in such "unprofitable" folly. His priority now was to recover some of his losses. Blood had been shed in a crowded place. Logically, even if no one reported it to the authorities, no one should have dared to stay and watch the commotion. Ordinary folk, upon encountering such a thing—or even just a fire in the next room while dining at a tavern—would have dropped their chopsticks and fled immediately. But this was the world of the Jianghu. Those of the martial world did not have three heads or six arms, but if they possessed anything more than the average person, it was a "gall" that did not fear death. Seeking victory in danger and wealth in chaos, many within the pavilion did not lose their composure. Instead, they sharpened their focus, watching the situation like hawks, waiting for an opportunity to loot amidst the fire. Those less capable, recognizing they lacked the skill, blew out their oil lamps early and hid in the darkness, hoping for a chance to scavenge as the "fisherman who profits while the snipe and clam fight." The atmosphere in the Baoshen Pavilion was unprecedentedly subtle. Li Qiao’s gaze pierced through the various layers of turmoil, landing straight on several figures. Rounding a pillar, he wordlessly tightened his grip on the saber at his waist and slowly approached the person trailing at the very back of that group... "Li Qiao..." A series of stealthy footsteps approached from his rear right, stopping only when they were three or four paces away. In her desperation, the woman had called out his name. Though her voice carried a great deal of uncertainty, it was not entirely inaudible to those martial artists with exceptional hearing. The youth was forced to halt. A moment later, the footsteps drew closer. "Good thing my nose is sharp. I can still smell that hint of mint." So, she had given him those mint pills for this purpose. But if she could smell his scent, why hadn't she found him earlier? Why did she have to show up at a time like this... Li Qiao turned his head. He saw the woman clutching several oil lamps she had scavenged from somewhere, using the green smoke from the extinguished wicks to hide herself downwind. "Come here, come to my side." Her face had been smeared with black soot from somewhere, but she was entirely oblivious to it, merely beckoning him over while coughing. Someone ahead had already looked their way. Li Qiao had no choice but to temporarily release his grip on his saber and crouch low, moving toward Qin Jiuye. He licked his lips, about to say something, when his left hand was once again seized firmly by her. "Never mind what kind of bugs they are, they’re all afraid of smoke. We’ve got the Yefuzi. Now... now we just need to get out of here..." Her voice trembled inexplicably, though whether she was worried about that Bai Xun from earlier or terrified by this senseless chaos, he couldn't tell. Li Qiao stared at her hand, his brows knitting together involuntarily. She was becoming increasingly practiced at this. But of all the places to grab, she had to seize his left side every single time. Qin Jiuye knew none of this. Seeing the strange expression on his face, her previous suspicion resurfaced. She assumed he was feeling frustrated and disappointed over the empty box but didn't dare show it. Suppressing her own tremors, she whispered words of consolation. "So what if we know about the box? Could you really have outfought those people for it? As long as the green mountains remain, one need not worry about firewood. There’s no shame in knowing when to retreat." There likely wasn't a more magnanimous employer in the world than her. Not only did she not press him about his deception, but she even proactively offered him a way out. If he had any conscience at all, he ought to have a sudden epiphany, mend his ways, and then gratefully continue working as her laborer for the next hundred years... Qin Jiuye was immensely satisfied with this "heart-conquering" rhetoric. After speaking, she deliberately looked away, only hearing the youth behind her seem to take a sharp breath—though she couldn't tell if it was because the surrounding smoke was too pungent. But she had no leisure to focus elsewhere. The candles around the stone platform had been extinguished during the earlier fray. The martial artists who understood the situation had all blown out their lamps to hide themselves. Qin Jiuye could only pull Li Qiao along as they groped through the darkness, slowly moving toward the exit based on her memory of the way in. *Swoosh.* It was the sound of a weapon being unsheathed. Li Qiao tilted his face slightly, his peripheral vision darting toward the source of the sound. It was pitch black there. In a darkness devoid of starlight or moonlight, even the sharpest blade could not reflect a single glint of light. Was it the people from Fangwaiguan? Another dull thud of a blade entering flesh followed. To their rear left, two large men carrying purple-gold hammers collapsed. No, that wasn't right. He had seen the swordplay of Fangwaiguan; it was not this stealthy. It was someone from his own trade. Li Qiao swung his palm out in a backhand motion, striking an oil lamp from the hand of a medicinal merchant three paces away. Half a cup of lamp oil spilled across the floor, and the flame on the wick instantly spread into a small patch of firelight. He used that momentary flash to scan behind him. Two flashes of white light flickered between swaying sleeves before vanishing back into the darkness. The opponent was using sleeve-swords, and there was more than one of them. Perhaps they were the very people he had been targeting just now. The moment he reached this conclusion, his forward posture shifted. His entire body became like a bow drawn to its limit, ready to fire. But the person holding his hand was too nervous to notice the change. "Li Qiao?" She called his name again, heedless of the danger. "I'm here," he replied in a low voice, his mind clearly elsewhere. She only noticed that he had "knocked over" someone else's lamp. Assuming he was simply frightened out of his wits, she used her other thin hand to tremulously pat the back of his hand. Her voice sounded strange as she forced herself to remain calm. "Don't be afraid. Stay close to me." Another sound of something piercing the air cut through the din. The youth’s left hand instinctively tried to break free, but the woman, who usually looked so frail, somehow found the strength to grip him tightly, refusing to let go. The stubborn force on his left hand was trembling now. Her hand was icy cold, and her fear seeped through his palm into his own skin, a sensation both alien and familiar. Why, when she could barely look after herself, did she insist on acting as if she could protect him? He didn't understand. He only felt... He should cut off her hand. A flash of killing intent and cold indifference flickered in his eyes as the sound of the approaching attack drew near in an instant. Crouched low in the crowd, the woman was still looking around frantically for an exit. In a flash, Li Qiao lowered his gaze, his right hand reversing his grip on the hilt as he drew the rusted saber from his waist. He could use a saber with his right hand as well, though his technique was far inferior. A crisp *clang* of metal striking metal rang out in the darkness, instantly drowned out by the intensifying sounds of combat all around them. Qin Jiuye kept her head down, struggling forward between shifting legs and hips. Her only conviction was to hold fast to the hand of the person behind her. She went from crouching to crawling, muttering under her breath—whether to him or to herself, it was hard to say. "Don't be afraid, don't be afraid..." Another wave of chaos erupted. People were beginning to lose ground, and the path to the exit became even more congested. The situation was changing by the second. In a battle of one against many, darkness and chaos provided cover for a lone fighter; once isolated in an open space, one would inevitably be surrounded and killed. The woman still clutching his hand struggled through the dark, firmly believing that with the hardships she had endured and the losses she had suffered over the years, she could surely weather this storm. "That way, let's go that way. If we follow the crowd, we'll get out..." No, they wouldn't get out. If those people were still there, they would never get out. *Clang.* The opponent tested him again at close range. The restricted swordsman barely parried the blow. Using the momentum, he sank his left wrist, causing the woman crawling blindly ahead to cry out "Ouch!" as she tumbled to the ground. The cool softness abruptly vanished, replaced by a familiar, cold hardness. The saber had finally returned to the swordsman's left hand. He held his breath, focusing his mind on the subtle disturbances in the air around him, then executed a clean, upward slash. *Clang.* The sound of metal hitting the floor echoed. The opponent’s weapon had been snapped in a single exchange. They were clearly stunned, realizing they had underestimated their foe. After a brief pause, more footsteps began to converge from all directions. Suddenly, several lights flared at the exit. Flickering torches appeared through the gaps in the wooden boardwalk, and the sound of heavy footsteps mixed with authoritative voices drifted down from above. "Government inspection! No one is allowed to leave!" The last group of onlookers waiting to scavenge in the darkness fell into a brief silence. A moment later, the martial artists closest to the exit began to shout. "It's the authorities! The officials are here!" The Baoshen Pavilion was truly lively today. But such liveliness was indeed not meant to be watched for long; watch too much, and it would eventually find its way to you. Mice are naturally afraid of cats, and those in the underground trade are naturally afraid of the government. No one understood why the officials had suddenly appeared, nor did they understand why they had to run just because the officials were there. In any case, as soon as one person led the flight, the rest refused to be left behind. Like a pack of bears that had disturbed a beehive, they began to charge about recklessly. Bandits and local thugs of all stripes showed off their skills—some threw grappling hooks, others climbed chains. The rest pushed and shoved, throwing wild punches. No one cared whose shoe hit whose face or whose blade poked whose backside. In short, whoever could escape first amidst the chaos would be the winner of the day. Another thunderous boom shook the air. Someone had recklessly thrown a thunder-fire bomb, blowing a large hole in the roof of the Baoshen Pavilion. Blinding light poured down through the shattered planks, illuminating a corner of the pitch-black floor. A cloud of dust fell, and the hole instantly widened as half the boards collapsed. The light expanded rapidly across the ground, threatening to expose the hidden martial artists standing at the edge of the shadows. The falling dust temporarily obscured their vision of one another, but a full confrontation was clearly inevitable. Coughing fits broke out all around, yet the seasoned veterans held their breath and covered their faces with cloths, waiting for the dust to settle. This was not an instinct honed merely by traveling the Jianghu; it was a skill cultivated through mission after mission of slaughter. Li Qiao understood this, just as his opponents did. Legend has it that wolves can smell the scent left by their own kind from a thousand miles away and recognize if it is the same wolf they encountered before. If those men had only been testing him earlier, they now had certain suspicions about his identity. After all, a man can change his face and a blade can be hidden in a sheath, but one's movement and saber technique cannot be concealed. "Li Qiao? Where are you..." The woman's voice rose fitfully from the crowd. She had lost track of him again, yet she refused to leave, merely huddling in the darkness and clutching her head. Several people rushed past in the chaos, nearly knocking her over. Even if she wasn't a martial artist, she could sense the chaos escalating. The intersecting shadows and shifting spots of light made it impossible for her to see what was near or distinguish what was far. Her hands were empty, and Qin Jiuye’s heart began to race uncontrollably again, her vision spinning along with it. She was the one who had used sweet words to trick him into coming. She could afford to owe him a favor, but she couldn't afford to owe him a life... The stingy shopkeeper of the "As-Expected Clinic" hadn't even finished calculating this messy debt when she suddenly felt her head lighten. Someone patted her on the back, and she went flying over the crowd like a fish tossed onto the shore. The cloth wrap embroidered with small grass patterns flickered as it was tied firmly behind Li Qiao’s head, neatly masking half of his face. Mid-air, Qin Jiuye’s head spun. In her daze, she only heard a voice drift past her ear—it seemed to be the youth’s voice. "Meet at the sugar cake shop." The next moment, Qin Jiuye landed on all fours like a toad. Unlike the fall she took after tricking Bai Xun, this time she seemed to have flown quite far, yet it didn't hurt as much when she scrambled up. Turning her head hastily, she saw the last of the dust settling from the hole in the roof. The youth’s voice still echoed in her ears, but he was nowhere to be seen. Only that familiar back-basket sat lonely on the ground. The auctioneer had long since vanished. Those capable of leaping over walls had already escaped through the hole in the ceiling. Someone had piled the broken wooden racks that held the oil lamps beneath the hole and was scrambling out. Heavy footsteps had already entered the pavilion. Qin Jiuye realized she was much closer to the hole now. Looking around at the wreckage, she saw people with injured arms and legs fleeing in all directions. Countless shifting faces flashed past her. she strained her eyes to search, but she still could not see Li Qiao. Fine, she would just trust that he had his own ways. She was only a shopkeeper, not his mother. If something really happened... who told him not to hold her hand properly just now? The authorities had already arrived. Qin Jiuye knew she couldn't delay any longer. Gritting her teeth, she hoisted the heavy basket onto her back and followed the person in front of her, scrambling unsteadily toward the exit. *** **Glossary** Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation --- | --- | --- 袖里剑 | Sleeve-sword | A hidden blade concealed within a sleeve. 雷火 | Thunder-fire | An explosive device or bomb used in the martial world. 果然居 | As-Expected Clinic | Qin Jiuye's medical shop/clinic. 糖糕店 | Sugar cake shop | A shop selling sweet steamed cakes.