Catch the prisoner ; meet the weirdo
He soon wandered into the nearby Wangjiang Pavilion, ordering a pot of
Seated by a second-floor window, he sipped alone, the autumn breeze ruffling his sleeves.
As he chewed a tender slice of beef, the wooden stairs creaked violently.
A young man in a flamboyant blue satin robe, embroidered with peonies, swaggered up to the railing.
His features were handsome, but his eyes darted like a thief's, and a garish pink peony tucked behind his ear gave him the air of a preening peacock.
"This man is not a good person at first glance."
Zhou Chun watched sidelong as the man leaned over the railing, chopsticks stabbing his food but never lifting a bite to his lips.
His gaze remained fixed on the river below.
"Something's off," Zhou Chun muttered.
Following the man's line of sight, he spotted a lavishly carved boat docked at the shore.Maidservants were helping a young woman in a soft yellow gown disembark.
The woman, willow-eyed and slender-waisted, had just stepped onto the sedan chair when the peacock-clad dandy flung
"No decent man
But at a street corner, Zhou Chun nearly collided with a disheveled Daoist staggering toward the city gates—a familiar red gourd swaying at his hip.
"The Drunken Daoist?!" Zhou Chun's heart leaped.
But ahead, the dandy and sedan chair had already vanished into an alley.
Torn between chasing the Daoist and stopping the looming crime, Zhou Chun hesitated—then cursed and sprinted after the Daoist.
The Daoist meandered through desolate outskirts, always staying ten zhang ahead, as if taunting Zhou Chun.
After half an hour of futile pursuit, Zhou Chun shouted,"Venerable Daoist! This humble one seeks guidance!"
The Daoist sped up instead, disappearing into thin air.
Zhou Chun returned to his inn, frustration simmering.
Midnight Intrigue
That night, as Zhou Chun lay in bed, the window creaked open. A cold gust swept in, leaving a slip of paper on his table. The three big characters are very conspicuous:
"Shi Family Lane."
The handwriting struck him as eerily familiar, though he couldn't place it.Shi Family Lane housed the city's elite—far removed from his affairs.
But a gnawing suspicion took root:"Someone's scheming. Best to investigate."
Donning black night-clothes and strapping his sword to his waist, Zhou Chun leapt from the window onto the rooftops.
Suddenly, a shadowy figure darted ahead, vanishing near Shi Family Lane.
Zhou Chun prowled silently, checking mansions one by one.
At the third estate, a flickering light drew him to an upper window.
He moistened his finger, punctured the rice paper, and peered inside—
"By the heavens!"
A young woman—the same one from the river—lay naked and bound on a bench, unconscious.The peacock-clad dandy fumbled with his belt, humming a lewd tune.
"Filthy dog!"Zhou Chun roared, kicking through the window.
The dandy blew out the oil lamp and hurled a stool.
Zhou Chun cleaved it mid-air with his sword, only to hear a blade whistle behind him—the bastard had circled around!
Ducking the strike, Zhou Chun thrust his sword at the man's throat.
Their blades clashed in a shower of sparks, spilling into the courtyard.
Zhou Chun's eyes narrowed."Your swordsmanship... it reeks of
Feinting a retreat, Zhou Chun leveled his sword.
"Name yourself!
The dandy cackled, his voice grating like broken brass.
"Zhang Liang,
Zhou Chun's blood ran cold. Mao Tai's disciple?
He redoubled his attacks,
Though skilled, the dandy faltered under Zhou Chun's onslaught.
When the mansion's owner arrived with guards, Zhang Liang leapt for the wall—
"Don't try to run away!"
Zhou Chun's sword flashed, severing the man's ankles.
Zhang Liang collapsed, howling, as guards trussed him like a
"Hero, stay!" The mansion owner knelt, kowtowing.
Zhou Chun yanked him up.
"Ship this trash to the magistrate—quietly. His master is Mao Tai, a sword immortal. You don't want that trouble."
He vaulted over the wall, heart pounding.
If a disciple is this formidable, how will I face Mao Tai himself?
The Elusive Daoist
For three days, Zhou Chun scoured tea houses and temples for the Drunken Daoist, even sifting through incense ashes—nothing.
On the fourth day, outside the city, a glint of yellow walls caught his eye:
the grand
Parched, Zhou Chun approached for water—
"Halt!"
Thirteen horsemen thundered past, their leader—a bull-necked brute—whipped the temple gates.
The red doors groaned open, swallowing the gang before slamming shut.
"No good comes from such men..."Zhou Chun muttered, edging closer.
As a chivalrous man, he wanted to figure out why.
Thwack! A mud clod struck his head.
He spun—no one in sight.
Another clod whizzed by as he ducked.
"Coward!" Zhou Chun gave chase.
The figure led him through the thorns, turning back and throwing mud at him from time to time.
Zhou Chun was very angry, but even if he did his light, he couldn't catch up with this person who was faster than the wind.
After miles of pursuit, Zhou Chun was a little tired. Suddenly, he noticed a paper bag appearing under an old locust tree.
Inside were two black pills and a scrawled note:
"Keep these. They help you get immune to all poisons."
Pocketing the pills, Zhou Chun trudged back, bewildered.
Who would aid me so cryptically?
Near the road, an enormous bell hung from a tree—a six-hundred-pound behemoth.
"I just passed by and there was no such thing," he muttered.
Which powerful person hung up on this?
Nearby, a faint cry for help pierced the silence.
Zhou Chun's pulse quickened.
He scaled the wall of a nearby house and peered inside—
"Oh my God..."