Chapter 184: King Of Langya

Chapter 184: The King of Langya

Across ten thousand dragon-boats amidst the green willows, carried down to Yangzhou never to return.

It must be Heaven’s will that opened the Bian River, a thousand odd leagues of land without a single mountain.

A great ship flying the flag of the Water Gang was making its way northward along the river.

At this time of chaos in Jiangnan, the Water Gang had refrained from sending southern resources to the capital; the imperial court had issued a rare decree that Jiangnan's supplies be retained for local use. Many of the Water Gang’s lads were currently aiding the local authorities to resist the Maitreya Cult. Wan Dongliu's secret identity within the Four Symbols Sect had absolutely no impact here; the Water Gang remained a righteous sect bound to the same fate as the government.

As for this particular ship, it carried few crew members, and the cargo it transported belonged to the Wan family's private business. Its destination was not the capital, but Qing and Xu provinces.

The unique thing about this vessel was the presence of two passengers who had hitched a ride without paying a single copper of fare, and one of these shameless individuals had even brought a horse along.

With the server-wide announcement from the Book of the Troubled Times, no matter how arrogant Zhao Changhe might be, he did not dare to continue lingering within the Maitreya Cult’s sphere of influence. Getting cornered there would be no laughing matter. That very night, he had headed straight north across the river to Yangzhou, and by a stroke of luck, managed to hitch a ride on Wan Dongliu’s ship to continue his flight northward.

Earlier on, he had wanted to take a boat upstream along the Yangtze River toward Wushan, but this ship was not headed that way. Since the world was currently in such a state of upheaval and no convenient boat could be found for the moment, getting out first was what mattered. Going north was quite fine too; perhaps heading to Yanmen would allow him to see if there was any place he could be of help.

The other passenger hitching a ride was Daoist Xuan Chong. He was returning to his own sect, the Taiyi Sect on Mount Tai, so he was the one truly on a convenient route.

At this moment, Xuan Chong sat at the bow of the ship, letting the wind blow against him as he leisurely sipped wine and surveyed the surrounding scenery, his mind brimming with poetic and artistic sentiments.

What made it even more pleasant was the chessboard before him. Seated across the board was a bear of a man, sitting cross-legged with his hands tucked into his sleeves, wearing a bitter expression, having remained completely motionless for the span of an incense stick.

"Brother Zhao," Xuan Chong said in a relaxed tone, "the one who said he didn't know how to play Weiqi and demanded a switch to Xiangqi was you. The one who couldn't win at Xiangqi and invented Gomoku was also you. Now that this Five-Star Chain is a definitive checkmate, how many stones do you want to change the game to next?"

Zhao Changhe sniffled, huddling his hands as he mumbled, "Are you guys even martial artists? Every single one of you is more proficient in the four arts than anyone else. It's not like you've ever played Gomoku before, have you?"

"The rules are simply too rudimentary; there is no need to have played it before," Xuan Chong said leisurely. "It would be better to say that Brother Zhao's brains, aside from practicing martial arts, are a bit too... well, a bit too..."

He stalled for a long time, seemingly unable to think of a pleasant description. If he directly said "too stupid," he wondered if this fellow would fly into a rage.

"I already know how to play the zither, so you are not allowed to say I lack artistic sensibilities," Zhao Changhe muttered. With a great pang of distress, he fished out a copper coin and handed it over. "Here, win some, lose some. As expected, one really shouldn't dabble in gambling..."

Looking at his expression, Xuan Chong nearly burst into laughter.

The two of them were just passing the time during the journey, yet both claimed they did not gamble, setting the wager at a single copper coin just for amusement. Who could have thought this fellow would be so painfully attached to losing even a single copper coin? Was there something wrong with the public perception of Zhao Changhe?

"What are you laughing at? I was diving to scuttle ships and forgot for a moment; all the bank notes on me got soaked through. I'm broke right now..." Zhao Changhe said in great vexation. "Why is there no such thing as a storage pouch in this world? It's so inconvenient. Even hiding a saber requires finding a patch of reeds."

Xuan Chong broke into a chuckle.

"Hey, Daoist brother, do you guys cultivate immortality? Have you ever heard of things like storage pouches or storage rings, or did they exist in the previous era?"

"They exist in stories, but I have never seen them in reality," Xuan Chong said unhurriedly. "The previous era... supposedly had them. To put it plainly, such things are a method of space. Just because modern people cannot achieve it does not mean the gods and demons of the previous era could not. Judging by various legends, they ought to have been capable of it. If Brother Zhao truly desires that kind of item, perhaps with a stroke of dog-shit luck, you might come across one in some ruins."

Zhao Changhe curled his lip. The Tomb of the Sword Emperor could be considered a top-tier ruin, but unfortunately, no one dared to explore its depths. Aside from leaving behind a heritage, the outer perimeter contained nothing too extraordinary, let alone any spatial treasures... He wondered if Sisi had ever seen one; they hadn't mentioned this matter at the time.

However, even if such a thing existed, with their current level of cultivation, they probably couldn't use it... What would they use to delve into the ring's space to retrieve items? True Qi? Their current level of True Qi couldn't even manage to fetch objects from a distance yet.

Finding something to occupy himself, Zhao Changhe gave it a try. He suddenly reached out his hand, attempting to draw a chess piece off the board from afar. The piece nudged slightly, but could not be lifted.

Xuan Chong didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Brother Zhao, if you try drawing a piece of paper, it might work, but forget about a chess piece. Unless you have specifically practiced a fetching type of martial arts, like the Dragon-Capturing Skill, and mastered a special method of exerting force, you might give it a try."

Zhao Changhe's eyes lit up. "Are there such martial arts? Where can I find them?"

"The Thief Sect, of course. Who is more proficient than them in techniques of drawing objects from a distance?"

"Uh..."

Speaking of which, he wondered where Ji Chengkong had gone... Zhao Changhe suspected that Ji Chengkong had recognized Sisi. Since the message had been delivered, there was no need to continue "searching for someone," so he had departed. Come to think of it, the Thief Sect was rather interesting; Zhao Changhe felt that if the opportunity arose, he could deepen their acquaintance.

He felt that Xuan Chong was also quite knowledgeable and well-traveled. Since the conversation had reached this point, he might as well take the opportunity to ask about other things. "Then, if I want to find a fierce and fierce style of fist or palm kung fu, whose family is the most famous? The Beggar Gang?"

"Though there is the Beggar Gang, their martial arts lie primarily in the staff; their fists and palms are not particularly famous, and the Beggar Gang does not follow the path of fierce rigidity." Xuan Chong said with great curiosity, "Brother Zhao's lack of familiarity with martial world anecdotes is truly astonishing. Granted, you haven't been in the martial world for long, but your relationships with Yue Hongling and First Seat Tang are by no means shallow. Yue Hongling travels the whole world, and First Seat Tang possesses abundant intelligence. What on earth did you talk about during all that time you spent together?"

Zhao Changhe really wanted to slap a meme of a clown laughing onto his own face.

Xuan Chong was quite speechless. "If we are talking about the number one fierce fist and palm style, it is naturally the current Emperor's 'My Fist,' whose fierce dominance is unrivaled in the world."

"What kind of ghost name is that?"

"That is exactly how His Majesty put it."

Zhao Changhe inwardly wondered why this level of chuunibyou felt so much like the Dragon-Sparrow Saber. Does the weapon take after its master?

"And the next?"

"Next would belong to the Langya Wang family's Heaven-Overturning Ocean-Settling Palm, as well as the fist techniques of Xuanwu from the Four Symbols Sect. I do not know the name, but it is said that a single punch can blow a person apart..."

Blowing a person apart—if it meant injecting True Qi to cause an explosion from within, that would be believable. Achieving it purely through fierce impact seemed a bit far-fetched. Zhao Changhe flat out disbelieved it. Pondering the options in his mind, he felt that the martial arts of the Wang family and Xuanwu were clearly unobtainable. Was he doomed to walk the path of seeking out another adoptive father again?

"Then what about your Taiyi Sect, Daoist brother? Are you really cultivating immortality?"

"We are a Daoist sect; we all walk the path of using softness to overcome rigidity. Though our fists and palms are decent, they do not align with Brother Zhao's inquiry."

Is that so... Zhao Changhe looked at him thoughtfully, though he did not pursue the topic further. Just as he was about to ask what lay in the third tier, the rapid sound of galloping hooves echoed from the distant shore.

Both were individuals of sharp intuition. Though the hoofbeats were distant, both could feel that they seemed to be heading straight for their ship. They could not help but exchange a look, halting their conversation.

Before long, a troop of riders swept into view. Reaching the shore, they reined in their horses in perfect unison.

The leading rider gathered his breath and shouted, "Stop the ship!"

The sailors of the Water Gang were also accustomed to being overbearing; how could they pay them any heed? The great ship continued forward just the same, without pausing in the slightest.

"What insolence! Has the Water Gang grown so bold as to run rampant over our Wang family's heads?" The leading rider sneered. Without any apparent preparation, he suddenly soared into the air from his horse's back, leaping toward the ship's railing like a great roc spreading its wings.

Under normal circumstances, the distance between a moving ship and the shore was quite considerable. Zhao Changhe recalled how he used to have to wait for Cui Yuanyang to paddle laboriously toward the shore before the distance was short enough to leap across, yet this rider had leapt over, falling short by only a single zhang from actually reaching the ship.

Zhao Changhe watched with great interest. He saw that just as this man's momentum was about to expire, he suddenly flicked his wrist and threw out a grappling hook, which accurately latched onto the ship's railing. Extremely smoothly, he used the force of the rope to land firmly upon the bow of the ship.

Many pedestrians on the shore witnessed this and cheered, "What splendid skill!"

Zhao Changhe also praised him inwardly. This move was rather interesting; he wondered if it was something he could learn. Dammit, carrying too many things on his body might make it inconvenient.

The ship's captain stepped out from the cabin, his expression somewhat unsightly. "The Wang family?"

The man said proudly, "Indeed."

The captain thought to himself, 'What are you so proud of? If we hadn't heard you mention the Wang family, a guy flying over like a sitting duck like you would have been shot into a hedgehog by our arrows long ago.'

Of course, since the man belonged to the Wang family, proud or not, the Water Gang did not dare to offend them. The captain could only swallow his anger. "May I ask what business the Wang family has in stopping our Water Gang's ship?"

The man did not answer. Suddenly, with a sharp slap, he struck the captain across the face, sending him staggering back.

Xuan Chong stood up abruptly, while Zhao Changhe’s gaze turned instantly ferocious.

The man suddenly felt a chill run through his entire body, as though he had been targeted by a fierce tiger, unable to tell which of the two men at the bow it came from.