Chapter 107

Chapter 107

The inner courtyard breached, Chen Shu, leading the charge with fearless abandon, was the first to leap onto the city wall. Her sword thrust straight at Xiao Zhong, startling him out of his stunned reverie. He scrambled backwards in panic, knocking over two aides in his haste. Only Qi Ban rushed forward, interposing himself to block Chen Shu’s strike.

Xiao Zhong had chosen his position—the most conspicuous spot on the ramparts—deliberately. Neither the Valley of Villains’ fall nor the ceaseless night raids had shattered the bandits’ morale. Yet the sight of their own lord, the master of the entire Yu-Bei Valley of Villains, utterly helpless before Chen Shu’s thunderous sword, reduced to crawling and tumbling down the ramparts in desperate flight—it was the final straw. Like the last life-saving reed being gently swept away by the current, their spirit broke in that slow, unfolding moment.

Chen Shu’s sword pierced Qi Ban’s flank. Xuan Qin landed on the ramparts just in time, intercepting the thrust of a long spear aimed at Chen Shu’s back. The strike was perilously close; even Xuan Qin, caught off guard, stumbled backwards from the force, her back pressing firmly against Chen Shu’s.

The two stood shoulder-to-shoulder, braced against the buffeting wind. The vista below them—selected by Xiao Zhong precisely for its commanding view—lay exposed: both the inner courtyard and the lands beyond the walls stretched clear and vast.

Outside the city, the small Imperial force that had endured the brutal battle earlier seized its chance amidst the chaos of the invasion. Knowing the defenders’ arrows were nearly spent, they pressed their advantage despite earlier near-collapse. Charging back into the fray, they shattered the Valley of Villains’ vanguard formation once more. Now, a swirling melee raged below, combatants tangled beyond recognition. Within the inner courtyard, defenders were either trampled beneath hooves in the chaos or fled desperately into the city proper, further disintegrating their own side’s cohesion.

Pure chaos reigned. Shouts of terror from inside Fangcheng mingled indistinguishably with battle cries echoing from outside.

Amidst this pandemonium, Xiao Zhong, relying on his martial skill, managed to scramble into the city proper, melting into the panicked crowds. Chen Shu spotted him instantly. Ignoring Qi Ban completely in her urgency, she yelled, “Get out of my way!”

But Qi Ban, stubborn as ever, merely grunted in pain. Even as Chen Shu withdrew her blade from his side, he said nothing else. He stood firm in her path, blocking her advance. Their standoff wasn’t on the ramparts of Fangcheng; it was a grim continuation of their duel upon the Sword Discussion Platform, merely relocated.

The scene right at that moment was reminiscent of times past, save that the wind coursing over the city wall was chillier, and the soldiers surrounding them with swords and halberds were glaring with hostility. But Qi Ban’s expression remained nearly unchanged, even after Chen Shu had pierced him through, and even after Xiao Zhong had abandoned him without a moment’s hesitation.

“So you won’t budge, eh?” Chen Shu bellowed angrily, raising her hand to strike again.

The bandits encircling them on the city walls stared intently at her. As she moved, they thrust out their blades and spears, nearly forming a ring. The cold steel reflecting the midday sun glared fiercely, forcing Chen Shu to instinctively shut her eyes and step back until she pressed entirely against Xuan Qin’s back.

Amidst the clashing sounds of blades, Xuan Qin whispered softly behind her ear, “…Go after him first. Don’t let him escape. Leave this place to me.”

Having spoken, with his broad back, he propelled Chen Shu forward. Though it was their first time cooperating, they moved in perfect unity. Without lingering for battle, Chen Shu sprang into action the moment she heard his words. Her first step landed on the ground, the next step landed upon the huge sabre thrust before her face, and then came the third step as she launched herself through the air. All that remained behind her was the circle of soldiers—either disarmed of their blades, staggering off-balance and collapsing to the ground, or stumbling forward and landing face-first in the dirt.

And Chen Shu? With a few leaps and bounds, trampling over the soldiers’ shoulders and even heads, she raced headlong toward the city center, entirely disregarding Xuan Qin behind her driving Qi Ban back step by step. That slim figure of hers vanished into the brilliance of the sky in the distance.

It was true—Fangcheng was now little more than a paper tiger on fire, one about to breach at any moment. There was no need to count the days as they once had—

But what of Xiao Zhong?

This warlord who scourged the region, now facing the city’s ruin, sought only to save his own skin. Should he evade capture today and escape through the other side of the city, seize any random horse, and plunge into the deep mountains and primeval jungles to the west of Fangcheng, even fools like Liu Mao, never mind Shen Jie herself, would be incapable of flushing him out from there. Those century-spanning atrocities committed by the Valley of Villains, the mountains of gold amassed from horse trading, the loot seized by oppressing the common folk, the lives lost in those endless raids—the same lives as He Yu’s martial sister—even the great flood that struck Diancang Pass.. all would be forgotten amid those endless mountain wildernesses.

That alone might be overlooked. Yet for all the heinous evil he had done, when the great edifice crumbled, there he stood with the opportunity to save himself, living as a reclusive, rustic hermit in the forest mountains. Perhaps even rallying the rebels again to rise once more?

Had Chen Shu not known, it might not have mattered. But it was unfolding right before her eyes. A towering blaze of anger consumed her uncontrollably as she chased after Xiao Zhong, mindless of everything else, into the city.

If Xiao Zhong did not die, how could He Yu’s martial sister rest in peace? If Xiao Zhong remained alive, how could the people of Diancang Pass feel secure? Those very townsfolk who daily invited her for meals, feeding her grain after grain and meat after meat?!

She chased after Xiao Zhong’s direction, pursuing him straight into the city. Fangcheng was also a city she had visited. But today was not ordinary. Its residents shut their doors and windows, except for the patrolling guards and some starving beggars who had perished on the streets; no one else lingered. Only after hearing rushing footsteps in the streets did some push open their windows, open their doors, and dare to peek out with timidity and curiosity as Chen Shu dashed past.

Indeed, Xiao Zhong made straight for the western gate. After crossing three or four street corners, Chen Shu spotted him and shouted, “Halt!” But knowing her formidable skill, Xiao Zhong naturally didn’t obey. Instead, he accelerated his steps until a gap widened between them, and he vanished into a narrow alley.

Xiao Zhong’s form vanished from sight once more in the blink of an eye. Chen Shu grew so anxious she nearly uttered an incantation. Yet blinded by lack of vision and with the obsession of a true Sword Cultivator, she mastered neither talismans nor illusion arts—even if she recalled one, it would be useless. With no choice, she chased to the mouth of the alley and fretted furiously at the sight of the short alley that split into several branches. She all but tore at her hair in frustration.

To think it was so irritating—Yun Shen had drawn a map, giving it to Xuan Qin, the imperial court, and the Martial World Alliance, yet not once had he shown it to her!

Thus stumbling blindly into those winding alleys, how could she ever hope to overtake Xiao Zhong? Perhaps it would have been simpler to await his self-entrapment at the city’s western gate.

Just as she hesitated, a distant groan of pain reached her from within the alley—how far away she couldn’t tell. But the alley’s resonance amplified the sound, making it sharp and clear, and it persisted for a long moment.

Chen Shu held her breath, her heartbeat quickening. Terrified that Xiao Zhong might have callously slain someone else, she raced in the direction of the voice. These alleyways were indeed cramped—since they cut through probably the most prosperous section of the city, the walls of surrounding houses stood face-to-face, ‘hands’ clasped. Even hurrying her steps through that chilly, murky, damp lane, she required nearly half a quarter of an hour to arrive.

But the scene awaiting her forced her steps to halt abruptly. Stunned, she blinked several times, hardly daring to approach for a while.

Xiao Zhong was dead.

He had died before the door of a humble home in an obscure lane called Zexiang Alley. In the hands of a man as dark-skinned as him, thin and scraggly, the tendons of his arms starkly protruding—yet whose expression was entirely sincere.

He died beneath the shabby iron shovel gripped in that man’s hand.

This man who’d slain Xiao Zhong was unlike Xiao Zhong himself—he really was an aged farmer. Days of siege and terror had driven those driven-back farmers to plant numerous traps and snares within the alleys, particularly near their own doorways.

Xiao Zhong could almost claim good fortune: he’d evaded the pitchfork, dodged the plough blade. But eventually he’d stumbled across a patch of grass laid atop iron spikes buried in the ground. As soon as he stepped on them and screamed, the spade struck him hard once where he stood.

Thus ended his life.

But in truth, the instant Xiao Zhong set foot inside his most well-known alleyways, footsteps had echoed throughout every household. They likely never imagined that a man like Xiao Zhong—who issued commands as supreme authority across Northern Yu, a bandit deemed king—would actually be fleeing through the back alleys.

As for Xiao Zhong himself? Arrogance was his lifelong habit. And for all his martial prowess, how could he have been struck by a simple farmer’s shovel?

But every aspect of this half-lived existence had been purchased off the sweat of the people—dressed in stolen silks, sheltering in stolen palaces. Yet in his heart remained not the faintest awareness of Fangcheng’s thousands upon thousands of citizenry. Nor the slightest shred of caution—not for a moment suspecting that inside this twisting lane he knew as intimately as his own palm, this very ordinary iron shovel might reach out.

The peasant who’d committed the slaughter looked timid indeed. He probably didn’t even recognize Xiao Zhong. Spotting Chen Shu pursuing him, he mistook her for a spy infiltrating the city and spoke in an attempted placating tone:

“Your Honor was chasing this criminal, I expect? Well, he stepped right through a trap by my door… and there he lies.”

Chen Shu only then took a step closer. Without even needing to crouch down for a closer look, with a single concentrated glance, she could see that the back of Xiao Zhong’s head was already a complete mess—fresh blood mixed with some unrecognizable substance, perhaps brain matter or bone marrow, not yet dried.

He had truly breathed his last.

“He was your city lord.”

Upon hearing this, the old farmer was terrified. The wrinkles on his face seemed to deepen and gather at his brow. He immediately dropped the shovel, still stained with blood, and waved his hands in denial. “…This lowly commoner didn’t mean to! I just thought that his head…”

“…was worth tens of thousands of taels of gold,” Chen Shu finished slowly.

The alley had been quiet before, and this sentence traveled far and clear. As soon as the words fell, every door within their line of sight swung open, revealing faces that were each unique yet universally gaunt and resolute.

“You’ve struck gold, Old Yu! Remember to share a couple of gold pieces with us neighbors for a look!” someone shouted.

Fangcheng had already been breached. After Chen Shu brought back news of Xiao Zhong’s death and audaciously hung the corpse on the city wall, the remaining forces fell into even greater disarray.

Swiftly, even before the sun dipped below the horizon, Liu Mao’s troops marched into the city and took control of Fangcheng.

However, Fangcheng was still a proper city, and one formed by merging the populations of several towns in Northern Yu. It was far different from the bandit camp in the Valley of Villains. Tracing and searching every corner within its walls demanded significantly more effort than storming the city itself.

Fortunately, this arduous task fell to the imperial court—indeed, it wasn’t even Liu Mao’s responsibility.

That very same day, an urgent memorial composed by Liu Mao was dispatched posthaste at express speed toward the capital. As the army settled into Fangcheng, even the Members of the Wulin Community swarmed into the city alongside them. The camps outside the walls were now inhabited solely by soldiers tasked with moving supplies and handling aftermath duties.

And Yun Shen.

As soon as Chen Shu dumped Xiao Zhong’s corpse, she hurried back to camp and indeed found Yun Shen peacefully waiting inside their tent.

Camp space was tight. Battles had been fought back-to-back, first storming the Valley of Villains and then Fangcheng, compounded by the lingering presence of numerous Members of the Wulin Community still sheltering in the camp. Throughout the ten-plus days of the siege, the two of them had shared the same tent, squeezed together on the same cot.

Having slept in each other’s company at Diancang Pass, shared the same robe on the Nameless Cliff, and shared unknowing nights together in Tianyu Mountain, they were both long accustomed to the arrangement. Chen Shu was unconcerned, and Yun Shen delighted in being near her. Each night, he eagerly drew her close, burying his nose in the scent at her neck where the Blood Pact resided, intoxicated by its alluring fragrance. Thus, despite He Yu’s many lingering, unspoken looks of concern, they continued to manage their close quarters this way.

When Yun Shen saw her burst into the tent, he promptly stood up, poured her a cup of water, handed it over, and asked gently, “Well? How did it go?”

“How did what go? Oh!” Chen Shu queried, then tilted her head back to drain the cup of cool water. She answered boldly, “Xiao Zhong’s dead! I hung his corpse on the city wall, and it stayed up for a good long while!”

“…I wasn’t asking about that,” Yun Shen chuckled. “I meant the sword you lost. Did you notice anyone amongst the Valley of Villains thugs wielding it?”

“…Oh, you mean that!” Chen Shu answered brightly, clapping a hand to her forehead. She bit her lip, let out a hollow laugh, feigning bravado as she raised her voice even higher. “That! Well, of course I paid attention! But…”

Yun Shen only needed to see her expression and witness her clumsy attempt at evasion to grasp the truth implicitly. Giving an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he smiled.

“Did you truly pay attention?”

“I did!” Now, the tips of Chen Shu’s ears flushed red—whether from embarrassment or annoyance wasn’t clear. She genuinely strained to recall the scenes from the battlefield, counting them off one by one.

“It definitely wasn’t Qi Ban; he didn’t seem to have a weapon. Before Xiao Zhong died, he was holding a small, ugly curved dagger. Then there were those scoundrels from the Valley of Villains we saw back in Fangcheng, the ones who came to deceive us alongside Xiao Zhong. Most of them carried long blades or long spears—after all, it was a siege defense! A few soldiers carried swords, but they were just rank-and-file grunts holding short blades. So the swords they carried looked dull; some were even chipped and worn, worse fitting than my own fake sword.”

“Someone who takes a sword away likely wouldn’t risk using it on the battlefield,” Yun Shen commented. He retrieved the small teacup from Chen Shu’s hand and stopped her move to sit down. “Besides, how much could your eyes possibly see alone? There’s no need to uncover everything right this instant. Why not go and—”

He paused mid-sentence, and Chen Shu instantly pounced, eyes alight with eagerness.

“Go where?”

“Go ask those sorting through the battlefield and cataloguing the spoils. Just speak to the officer in charge, then… Where are you going?! They’ve only just entered the city—”

“To ask!” In a flash, Chen Shu had already dashed out of the tent, not even bothering to let the flaps fall before calling back carelessly over her shoulder. “Even if they’re only just entering the city, they must report everything they find to the commanding officer, right? I’ll just ask my big sister!”

Outside the tent, the camp seemed even emptier than before. Wagons laden with surplus supplies rolled steadily toward the city. As she passed, several individuals recognized Chen Shu among the sparse groups of people. Waving, they called out cheerful greetings. Ever sociable, she readily went over to chat, asking if the entire army was moving into the city and if they knew where the commanding officer was currently located.

When questioning the fourth soldier, he answered uncertainly that Hero Chen was probably at the magistrate’s manor in Fangcheng.

Like every city, Fangcheng indeed had a magistrate’s manor, a relic from the former dynasty that set it apart from the administrative buildings of other towns. Yet, much like the Small Turret in the Valley of Villains—though not towering into the clouds like the Sword Discussion Platform—it stood out strikingly among the numerous low-roofed dwellings. And because Fangcheng sat precisely at the unblocked section leading out to the Valley of Villains’ entrance, these two turrets could even gaze distantly upon each other, mirroring one another’s presence.

Impatient, Chen Shu vaulted straight onto the city wall, her eyes easily spotting the prominent magistrate’s manor amid the sea of tiled roofs. Night had fallen, and the moonlight gently washed over its high ridge, nearly brightening the dark sky. Inside the manor, dim, warm yellow candlelight flickered faintly.

The manor was indeed occupied.

Xiao Zhong despised living in Fangcheng, and with the city now fallen, Shen Jie was plainly the only one who could occupy a position commanding the entire city. Chen Shu took one glance and immediately bounded across the rooftops toward the manor, rising conspicuously amid the night-shrouded tiles. Within half a kè, she took the direct route and nimbly slipped through an open window into the building.

Inside the manor, soldiers bustled about: some held ledgers as they inventoried goods, others pushed carts transporting supplies, and patrolmen returned from their rounds, panting as they reported to ranking officers on the upper floors.

Despite the commotion in the courtyard, the upper floor appeared deserted. After climbing in, Chen Shu saw only disordered papers and brushes strewn across a long-disused desk—and the distinct scent of dust from neglect.

Landing on her feet, she froze for a moment, worried she’d come to the wrong place. Yet the candlelight nearby was clearly newly lit, and inkstains on the desk were still fresh and moist. Reassured, she leaned closer to study the handwriting on the papers.

Most pages seemed to be rough drafts of letters addressed to the imperial court: reports declaring the battle settled and detailing plans for Fangcheng’s post-conflict administration.

The words sprawled across drafts and revisions in a hasty, sloppy script, so illegible that Chen Shu gradually drew closer—even hunching over the desk without realizing it.

Just then, the door opened abruptly outside. Footsteps echoed twice before halting.

“Sister’s back? What even is this writing? I wanted to ask about my sword—if anyone in the army picked up—” she started to say, turning around mid-sentence. But upon seeing the visitor, she swallowed her question entirely—almost biting her tongue.

The arrival wasn’t Shen Jie at all. It was that hypocritical scoundrel, Liu Mao!

Though Chen Shu gaped in shock, Liu Mao strode forward as casually as though nothing were amiss. Ignoring her trespass, he simply nodded with a grin and proceeded to tidy the scattered letters on the desk.

“Awaiting Right Supervisor Shen?” he asked. “She entered the fray in person today. Right now, she’s likely patrolling the city still. Should you require answers, why not pose your questions to me, Hero Chen?”

“…N-No need. I’ll wait until Sister’s work is done—” Chen Shu retreated reflexively. Seeing Liu Mao’s smile alone inexplicably made her scalp prickle. When the recollection of her breach into Diancang Pass’ government mansion flashed through her mind, guilt surged fiercely. Edging toward the window where she had entered, she prepared to vanish back into the night.

But Liu Mao spoke again, halting her.

“Why hold back? Worry not, Maiden—I’ve meticulously recorded in my dispatches your actions during the city’s downfall. Sent to the court days ago—”

“—I’m not here to talk about that!” Chen Shu hastily cut in.

“Then you’re inquiring about this treasured sword you seek?”

“N-Not that ei—” Her voice caught, and against her better judgment, she found herself demanding, “How did you even know that?”

Liu Mao offered a light, teasing smile. “Didn’t you just mention it yourself, Hero Chen? And your missing sword? The bounty notice was plastered right on the government precinct’s gate—how could I not know?”

“…Was it? I must’ve missed it…” Chen Shu forced an awkward laugh.

Seemingly taking pity on her, Liu Mao set aside the subject, his tone smoothing to polite conversation. “Though I did hear that He Yu of Cold Pine Glen uncovered a sword in the Valley of Villains. And the very blade you carry today—is it not the same sword He Yu recovered? …Is it truly not the one you lost?”

Muffled voices carried from downstairs: chatter between soldiers, footfalls shifting positions. Night wind fluttered faintly through the window Chen Shu had just vaulted through, brushing threads of her hair past her cheek. Eyes widening, she abruptly sensed the wrongness in his words and countered sharply:

“…How knowledgeable you sound about this, General Liu. Have you perhaps… learned something else?”

The retort caught Liu Mao off guard. He blinked, then laughed heartily and raised his palms in resignation. “Shen Jie’s little ‘sister’ indeed—you saw straight through my facade! Indeed, I did uncover something. But whether it pertains to your sword… I cannot be certain…”

“If uncertain, why conceal it?” Chen Shu pressed.

“—” Liu Mao paused, lowering his voice into significance. “Because… it involves the Valley of Villains’ master. Xiao Zhong.”

Chen Shu instinctually moved two paces toward him. Unblinking attention tightened across her expression. Liu Mao, satisfied at having hooked her interest, finally continued at a slow pace:

“You are close to Shen Jie, so it’s likely you know that during the flood at Diancang Pass, someone… reported information to Xiao Zhong. Yet to this day, that traitor’s whereabouts… remain unknown.”

“Oh, that…” Chen Shu nodded candidly. “Yep—I actually suspected you back then!”

The words visibly struck Liu Mao mute. Stunned, he locked eyes with Chen Shu. Her face was utterly without guile—the earnest confession laid bare. For several breaths, he struggled to regain his composure before coughing artificially and speaking onward as if he’d heard nothing at all.

“…and after that, Xiao Zhong had a ‘military advisor’ in the Valley of Villains, but he was never found even when Fangcheng fell,” he said. “However, after the fall of Fangcheng, there was a great victory, capturing many people, including some whom Xiao Zhong cherished. Perhaps due to being besieged for many days, they revealed quite a bit without needing interrogation. It seemed this ‘military advisor’ came to the Valley of Villains specifically for a sword, and shortly after he arrived, Xiao Zhong carefully hid a treasured sword—”

“Then someone found this treasured sword?”

At such a critical point, Liu Mao’s tone turned uncertain. He merely replied, “Yes, but it’s unclear if it’s really that sword, and even more so if it’s your sword. The plan was to spread the word to bait this so-called ‘military advisor’ out—”

Chen Shu couldn’t tolerate his evasive attitude any longer. She stepped forward two steps, nearly grabbing Liu Mao by the collar and demanding, “Who found it?”

“—The Alliance Leader of the Martial World, Xu Yuan.”