Chapter 23

A startling metamorphosis came over Li Chou’s face: flush first drained to pallor, pallor deepened to darkness, finally settling into a sickly, livid green. Li Chou, Biyang Valley’s revered senior disciple, was clearly unaccustomed to such public loss of composure. The instant the words left his mouth, even the urge to glare down curious bystanders vanished. His features hardened into a rigid mask. Had it not been broad daylight, one might almost have imagined smoke billowing from his head in fury.

Around them, spectators who’d been focused on the duels dispersed or fell silent. Yet a few audacious souls lingered, risking surreptitious glances at the eminent Biyang Valley disciple’s humiliation.

Yun Shen watched coldly, his motives unclear. Witnessing Li Chou’s boiling rage, rather than attempting to soothe, he seemed only to stoke the flames. A note of casual lightness laced his voice.

“I didn’t particularly wish to accept it—”

This threatened to push Li Chou over the edge. His eyes bulged; his jaw clenched, tendons standing out like cords along his neck. It was likely this volatile expression that penetrated Chen Shu’s usual thick skin. Instinctually, she detected the sharp tang of gunpowder in the air. Her hand flew out, catching Yun Shen’s sleeve.

Yun Shen had only uttered half a sentence when a surreptitious tug from her brought his words to an abrupt halt. He pursed his lips, glanced briefly at her before averting his gaze anew, and pulled his sleeve free from her grasp. True to word, he remained silent, allowing her to take over.

Chen Shu, being Chen Shu, was anything but smooth even as she took up the thread. “Indeed, he initially refused,” she began haltingly, “Hero Li’s jade is far too precious—one glance reveals it’s priceless like a city. In our crude hands, it’d be a burden, unreliable… So we could only trouble Brother Yun here to guard it…” Pausing, she forged ahead, “I trust Hero Li honors promises and won’t go back on his word!”

Li Chou finally seemed slightly mollified, though his expression remained angry. He shot Yun Shen a look, then fixed his irritated yet amused eyes on the wide-eyed Chen Shu. “Truly,” he said through laughter tinged with resentment, “who made you my ‘benefactor,’ after all?”

At that, Yun Shen let out a soft chuckle, seemingly lost in thought as he smoothly replied, “Only Biyang Valley, a paragon of righteousness, could nurture such honorable young heroes as Brother Li, who always repay kindness and act with such benevolence.”

By naming Biyang Valley so explicitly, the “nine smaller sects” instantly rang a bell with the eavesdropping spectators. Even those unfamiliar with the name Li Chou understood they faced a formidable figure. The hush grew profound, a heavy quiet betraying the multitude straining their ears. The crowd unintentionally formed a small circle around them. The harsh afternoon sun streamed in, illuminating the intricate patterns on Li Chou’s robe.

“Yes, Brother Yun,” Li Chou’s face twisted in a smile, each word grinding out from between clenched teeth. “As the saying goes, near vermilion, red; near ink, black. Truly, without a doubt! Since this ‘gentleman’ insists, I shall lead the way—come with me.”

Finishing, Li Chou turned with such force he ignored Yun Shen entirely. A bystander, engrossed in listening, flinched as their eyes met. Li Chou’s dark expression was terrifying. “Move already!” he barked, stepping forward before the man could react. The onlooker stumbled aside in panic, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Chen Shu watched this unfold, sighing with relief as if she’d maneuvered through a delicate situation. She patted her chest and turned to Yun Shen with a carefree grin. “He really is taking us! Let’s go!”

“…Do you truly believe he brought us willingly?” Yun Shen stood fully in the sunlight, his gentle smile seemingly softened by the brightness. “You didn’t catch the hidden barbs in his earlier words?”

“Huh?” Chen Shu blinked. “Was that sarcasm? Which part was sarcastic?”

“It wasn’t.” Yun Shen pointed towards Li Chou walking ahead. “Aren’t we supposed to follow him? Hurry up.”

——

The registry office was neither outside nor within the twelve pavilions—or, more precisely, not upon any of the twelve elevated platforms. Li Chou forged through the crowd directly towards the platform entrance where Shen Jie had earlier sat watching the matches.

A yamen runner by the entryway table cleared his throat without looking up at the approach. “Registration concluded. No exceptions for late… Hey! Stop ri—”

His head snapped up, meeting Li Chou’s gaze. The final half of his protest died on his tongue before Li Chou had to utter a cold word. Frozen, the yamen runner simply gaped until Li Chou impatiently detached the token from his waist and snapped, “Open it! Dare you delay?”

“At once, sir! My deepest apologies!” The runner bobbed frantic bows, fumbled out a large key. His eyes flickered towards Chen Shu and Yun Shen behind Li Chou, seemingly about to question, but another glare from Li Chou sealed his lips. Not another word, he led the three into the pavilion.

Stepping inside the Day Platform, the setting seemed at first glance indistinguishable from the one Chen Shu had fought the Flower-masked old woman on earlier—the same sturdy wooden ladder spiraling upwards, ending in a faint gleam of light above that cast long shadows, thick with drifting dust motes, shimmering like snow. The door slammed shut behind them. Disturbed by the impact, the dust eddied like ripples, swirling away before gathering again beneath the beam of light.

Li Chou stood at the front. Chen Shu had to peer out cautiously from behind him. She watched with rapt curiosity as the yamen runner knelt down, inserted the key somewhere unseen, and pushed. The wooden section of the floor abruptly hinged open, folding downwards to reveal a flight of stone stairs descending into the earth.

The expectation was darkness below. Instead, they faced dazzling light. Stone walls and white-bricked steps appeared, their intricate carvings and fine craftsmanship illuminated by countless lanterns. This subterranean space seemed even more lavish than the fighting platform above.

Chen Shu’s soft gasp echoed her “lack of worldly experience.” Beside her, Yun Shen quietly chuckled, the sound unnaturally clear in the hollow chamber. She whirled around, annoyed, only to have Yun Shen steer her head back with a hand. With puffed cheeks, she unwillingly faced forward, finally ducking Yun Shen’s hand—only to collide stiffly with Li Chou’s back. Another chuckle sounded from behind her.

A muscle flickered near Li Chou’s eye. His stare remained fixed, cold and unyielding, on the flustered runner sweating over the opening mechanism. Oblivious, the runner finally completed his task, stepped aside, and gestured deferentially. “Please, proceed, Your Excellency. Though I believe the draw has already commenced.”

Li Chou snorted dismissively, replying as if explaining pained him. “My purpose is not for the draw itself.”

The runner, having only intended a courteous heads-up, offered a strained smile, refraining from further comment. Li Chou, left with simmering discontent nowhere to vent, took a deep breath. With another sharp snort and a decisive swing of his sleeve, he started down.

Chen Shu followed eagerly, her footsteps clopping loudly down the first few steps. Just as Yun Shen prepared to descend, she clomped back up two treads.

Her face popped back through the stairwell opening like a sprout breaking soil. A swift flick of her hair and her bright, inquisitive eyes fixed intently on the yamen runner.

“Thank you!” she piped, her voice crisp.

“Er?” That yamen runner, likely accustomed to dealing with the blunt and forthright members of the Wulin community, truly hadn’t anticipated Chen Shu’s words. Surprise flashed across his face, followed by visible fluster, and he stammered, “Y-you needn’t, m-miss. It’s… it’s merely my duty…”

After saying this, Chen Shu darted down the next set of stairs. Yun Shen also gave the yamen runner a nod and followed the descent.

The stairs down weren’t long, amounting to just the height of a single floor. Two candles flickered beside the wall, casting enough light to illuminate their path. The three soon reached the door of the underground room and stood still.

Chen Shu looked at Li Chou expectantly and asked, “Should we knock?”

Li Chou, however, didn’t answer. Instead, he threw her a glance and pushed the door open directly.

The inside of the room was even brighter than the candlelit steps, almost rivalling the hall above ground. It lacked windows, though, leaving the walls starkly bare. A dozen or so rosewood armchairs were arranged within, two positioned centrally where the empty one evidently belonged to Shen Jie. The others lined up in two rows, stretching all the way back to the door.

As Li Chou pushed the door open, several people seated near the entrance turned to look, He Yu among them. This place seated only those from the Nine Minor Sects. The only other familiar face sat at the far end, flanked by several disciples in matching attire—clearly the Biyang Valley contingent. Upon seeing Li Chou, one of them, looking as startled as a mouse spotting a cat, shot up from his wooden chair before his legs properly followed. The sudden movement nearly knocked the chair backwards.

“Isn’t this Young Master Li?” The man sitting in the chair at the opposite end spoke up, smiling. “What’s this? Don’t trust us enough? Come to keep an eye?”

“Me, distrustful?” Li Chou retorted. “The League Leader jests! I merely found two homeless commoners on the way. Heard they were acquainted with Brother He Yu, so I played the good Samaritan and brought them along.”

“Oh?” the League Leader responded, turning to He Yu. “Are they part of Cold Pine Glen?”

“I—”

Chen Shu barely got one word out before He Yu swiftly cut in, taking full responsibility. “Yes. My arrangements were inadequate. I lost track of them and lost my way myself. Many thanks to the Young Valley Master for guiding them and bringing my wayward companions back.”

At the words “Young Valley Master,” Li Chou finally looked satisfied. He turned and gave Chen Shu and Yun Shen a triumphant glance, then stood stolidly to accept He Yu’s bow. “Don’t mention it,” he drawled magnanimously. “I’m always helpful. Trivial effort.” Then, practically strutting like a peacock, he walked towards the Biyang Valley position.

On their side, He Yu quickly gestured for Chen Shu and Yun Shen to approach. Yet even as he beckoned them closer, his expression held no joy; his gaze remained fixed on Li Chou, tracking him all the way to his chair, where a Biyang Valley disciple bowed and yielded the seat. “What is it?” Chen Shu asked, noticing his look.

He Yu shook his head, sighing. His eyes still lingered towards Biyang Valley’s seats as he spread out the lot he had just drawn, showing it to the pair.

A collective, muffled gasp rippled through the room.

“Ah?”

Instinctively covering her mouth, Chen Shu realized the shocked sound hadn’t come from her, but from the very end of the room—Li Chou.

Li Chou, who had only just sat down, now gripped the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes, wide and blazing, glared across the room at the trio with such ferocity it seemed he might devour them whole. A disciple beside him had his hand partially covering his mouth; clearly, he had just relayed the drawn lot’s outcome to Li Chou.

On the lot He Yu had unfolded, two large characters struck the eye: