Chapter 96: Courtesy Demands Reciprocity

Chapter 96: Courtesy Calls for Reciprocity

Zhao Changhe truly had no idea how to find Xia Chichi—let alone her, at this moment he didn’t even know where Han Wubing was.

His mind a muddled mess, he first returned to the inn, only to run into Han Wubing at the entrance, who had also just come back.

Zhao Changhe let out a slight sigh, glancing at the ordinary sword still in Han’s hand, and couldn’t help slapping his forehead: “I forgot… earlier, I could have asked them for a sword.”

Han Wubing asked in surprise, “Who?”

“Uh, never mind… Brother Han, still no luck?”

“Not exactly. Someone invited me to see a sword at Ancient Sword Lake. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a look, so I agreed.”

Zhao Changhe’s expression turned quite vivid.

Loyal and righteous, keeping promises and valuing trust—why hadn’t he thought of it before? This young Brother Han fit the bill almost perfectly! The Four Symbols Sect had come knocking on his door.

Don’t talk about just taking a look—this sword fanatic would never be able to resist when the time came, and the sword might very well choose to recognize him.

“So… have you ever had a lover before?”

“Never.”

“The one who avenged his old friend with blood sacrifice?”

“…That was a man. My bond with him was much like ours—born from a duel, yet we cherished and clicked.”

So being a single dog had its perks after all—never having been in love meant no fickleness or betrayal, so as long as one was a man of his word, that was enough.

Zhao Changhe tilted his head to look at him: “Much like ours—meaning if I died, you’d avenge me the same way?”

Han Wubing said matter-of-factly, “Yes.”

Zhao Changhe laughed, patting him on the shoulder: “I think you really can take that sword. But a fine blade is easy to come by, while a man’s heart is hard to fathom. The one who invited you has ulterior motives—keep your wits about you. If nothing comes of it, fine; if it does, I’ll follow you.”

A fine blade is easy to come by, while a man’s heart is hard to fathom… Those eight words struck a nerve in Han Wubing, and a shadow fell over his eyes: “Alright.”

Having unexpectedly confirmed the other side’s timing and target, Zhao Changhe felt a bit more at ease. He figured he’d spend the next couple of days looking for Chichi—if he found her, great, he could have her call off the plan; if not, he’d tag along with Han Wubing that day and see on the spot how to secretly communicate with Chichi, at least as a fallback.

As it turned out, when a unlucky soul thinks a loot box has a guaranteed pity prize, they really only get the pity prize.

For several days, Zhao Changhe nearly scoured the entire Sword Lake City. On the way, he ran into several clueless thugs trying to steal his blade, even killed a few in self-defense, but Xia Chichi was nowhere to be found.

The Four Symbols Sect, trying to evade the Demon Suppression Bureau’s eyes, naturally wouldn’t let themselves be found easily, and Xia Chichi didn’t dare sneak out for a tryst amid the turmoil. These days, Tang Wanzhuang had also been secretly searching—she hadn’t found her, so Zhao Changhe had even less chance.

But Zhao Changhe felt that this time, Chichi had been thoroughly crushed by Tang Wanzhuang. They knew what you were up to, knew the general time was around the start of summer—just watching the lake was enough. What good was hiding in the city? If they really wanted to catch the demon cult scoundrels, the lakeshore was already a net of traps. The reason they hadn’t acted, Zhao Changhe figured, was out of respect for him, and he felt quite grateful for that.

In any case, Chichi had truly lost this time. That little enchantress, leading her first mission, and her subordinates—they probably never imagined that their opponent in such a trivial matter would be the Demon Suppression Bureau’s chief in person. It wasn’t even a fair match…

Come to think of it, if Tang Wanzhuang knew her opponent was actually a real princess, what would she feel?

…

The handle of the Dipper points southeast; it is the beginning of summer.

Han Wubing walked slowly along the shore of Ancient Sword Lake, scanning for traces of the other party.

Ancient Sword Lake wasn’t crowded with tourists; in fact, compared to the bustling city nearby, it was quite desolate. Because of the “sword qi erupting and killing people,” no one came for outings or fun. Those who did come were reckless fortune-seekers, arriving in sporadic batches. A few groups scattered across the vast lakeshore made it seem empty and lonely.

The Four Symbols Sect members stood out conspicuously—there was nowhere to hide, and at most, experts might be concealed in the bamboo grove behind. In front, a group of black-robed figures surrounded a beautiful young girl, looking like a retinue escorting their young mistress on an outing.

But Han Wubing immediately recognized the person who had spoken to him that day, and he also instantly recognized the beautiful girl as the little enchantress who had traded verbal blows with Zhao Changhe.

No wonder Zhao Changhe wanted to come along.

Han Wubing strolled over slowly, stopping at a cautious distance where he could flee at any moment, and cupped his hands: “Han has arrived. How shall I see the sword?”

The little enchantress glanced at him, a hint of hesitation in her eyes, and her first question was: “What’s your relationship with Zhao Changhe?”

Han Wubing: “…Friend.”

“How good a friend?”

“He saved my life.”

“Actually, you saved his life too.” The little enchantress put her hands on her hips: “If you hadn’t messed things up, I’d have taken his head off.”

His little head, probably. At the time, it felt like if she kept going, she might indeed have taken it—where she’d put it afterward was another question.

Han Wubing muttered inwardly but said aloud, “So, miss, are you here to settle scores with me for ruining your plans that day?”

What troubled Xia Chichi was that if this man was Zhao Changhe’s good friend, tricking him would make Zhao Changhe angry with her. Truly a headache—she’d originally thought the two were enemies from a duel, so tricking him would help Zhao Changhe. But after watching them these past days, they seemed to get along quite well…

“Zhao Changhe’s dog head is easy to take; your little interference doesn’t matter. As long as you keep our agreement, that matter is settled.”

Han Wubing heard the little enchantress say this aloud, but then suddenly caught a shift in her tone as she sent a voice transmission: “Later, when we set up the ritual, the sword will definitely appear. But don’t let your sword obsession take over—no matter how much you like it, say it rejects you. Don’t take it, don’t touch it. Remember, remember!”

Han Wubing’s heart stirred. Combining this with Zhao Changhe’s warning, he instantly grasped the general situation and felt a pang of emotion. No wonder the little enchantress’s first question was about his relationship with Zhao Changhe—she didn’t want to harm her friend’s companion… This voice transmission technique was beyond him, meaning the girl was likely at the sixth level of the Profound Gate, yet transmitting among a crowd of strong experts was extremely risky. She truly loved Zhao Changhe.

He remained expressionless and cupped his hands: “Han said before that if the sword suits me, the agreement stands.”

Xia Chichi giggled: “Brother Han is a man of his word; we trust you. Alright, noon is near, the ritual begins.”

Zhao Changhe, lurking in the distance and using his enhanced long-range vision to spy, was pacing anxiously. Find a chance to secretly communicate with Chichi? How? In such an open area, a crowd surrounded Chichi tightly—how could he get a message through?

He watched as a group of black-robed figures dispersed, forming a somewhat irregular Southern Dipper formation, muttering incantations.

Needless to say, even Han Wubing, in all his life, had never seen such superstitious mumbo jumbo.

He tried to sense it, but with his inner arts at the fifth level of the Profound Gate, he couldn’t detect any energy fluctuations or changes in aura. He had no idea what effect this formation and ritual were supposed to have.

Yet he clearly felt the lakebed beginning to stir.

As the sun climbed higher and noon arrived, a faint tremor emanated from the lake, like the distant aftershock of an earthquake felt here. Then, a swordsman’s instinct made his scalp tingle—he could vaguely sense a sharp sword intent spreading from the center of the lake.

At that moment, from the bamboo grove in the distance, a bowstring twanged like thunder. An arrow, from nowhere, shot into the center of the ritual, aiming straight for the leading elder.

“Who dares to interfere!” That elder was the Azure Dragon Protector, a formidable expert on the Human Ranking. He casually deflected the arrow, but the ritual was disrupted and stalled for a moment.

From the bamboo grove came Zhao Changhe’s loud laughter: “The Saintess wants my dog head, so I’ll spoil her plans—courtesy calls for reciprocity. If you’ve got the guts, come after me!”