Chapter 53

Others might not know, but with just that hint from Shen Jie, Chen Shu grasped it instantly—

—The very structures the raging flood couldn’t overwhelm that day were precisely the twelve Sword Discussion Platforms!

Though the towers and courtyard houses within the city were high and sturdy, they couldn’t compare to the tens of zhang-high city walls. Since the flood even breached the walls and poured inside the pass, submerging those ordinary houses was merely a matter of time.

The entire Diancang Pass saw only these twelve Sword Discussion Platforms towering defiantly. First, these platforms were built specifically for martial contests, thus constructed to be exceptionally solid. Witness how members of the Wulin Community exchanged blows on them in numerous matches—swords, spears, cudgels, even fists and feet landed on these platforms. Yet, at most, a crack appeared like Li Chou managed, never truly shaking the foundations.

Second, these platforms were built extremely tall to accommodate spectators, making them the tallest towers in the city. Diancang Pass, built amidst mountain cliffs, meant the surging waters flowed downhill. Therefore, even if the flood were devastatingly powerful, once the waters submerged the lower city walls, the flood surge would spill outward. So, even if the entire Diancang Pass was inundated, these Sword Discussion Platforms would remain intact.

Chen Shu understood this best, especially since she was atop one of these platforms when the flood hit!

Aside from the very first torrent of water, the Sword Discussion Platforms truly stood firm against the raging flood. All those atop them, including spectators watching the matches, remained completely unscathed as long as they didn’t lose their footing and fall off.

“I get it!” she exclaimed. Unconsciously tightening her legs around her black stallion, she surged a few paces forward before wrestling the horse around, shouting back at Shen Jie without any concern, “This person chose the very day of the Sword Discussion Tournament to ensure the people atop the platforms would be safe amidst the flood—wait, but how does that connect to General Liu?”

“Haven’t I just explained to you?” Shen Jie spoke with a smile. “The Yingqiu Weir is a day’s journey from Diancang Pass. The schedule and arrangements for the Sword Discussion Tournament have no fixed pattern—whether more matches are held one day or delayed another simply depends on the moods of those dueling on stage. Even the timing of your match against Xu Qiong wasn’t set until after the previous two rounds ended, and only announced in the city that very morning. Although generally starting around noon each year, exceptions happen. This person using the Sword Discussion Platforms as shelter proves they are bold and meticulous—they must have calculated the timing carefully before sending their agents to sabotage the weir. If this mastermind truly chose the date for this purpose, then they had to receive timely information beforehand to dispatch their men. Their exceptional information network is the first clue.

“Furthermore, this individual plots grandly and acts with insidious ruthlessness—someone willing to drown an entire Diancang Pass is likely consumed by jealousy and self-interest. On top of those platforms that day, the person they went to such lengths to save probably wasn’t others, but—themselves.”

The mountain trail plunged again into a cleft between two jagged peaks. The sky remained clear, but the colossal shadow cast by the peaks fell upon the mountain opposite, drawing a sharply defined, jagged line, and imbuing the mountain path with a gathering chill. Chen Shu dazedly pondered for a moment, unconsciously murmuring to herself: “Sword Discussion Platforms… the flood… So, if this person deliberately chose that day, they themselves were very likely atop one of those platforms—someone like General Liu—”

She lifted her head, meeting Shen Jie’s gaze. After another long thought, her whole face screwed up in a mix of confusion and dismay as she slowly pointed the horsewhip back at herself.

“—Someone like me?”

This time, Shen Jie was genuinely amused. After a moment’s startled stillness, she burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. Holding her own horsewhip out to point at Chen Shu, she laughed too hard to form words clearly. She just pointed silently, eventually provoking Chen Shu’s irritation.

“…What now? It’s true I was on that Sword Discussion Platform that day—I was even the one fighting duels! I know I’m not the evil mastermind, but I’m just trying to be upfront and frank with you, sir!”

Hearing this, Shen Jie laughed again for a while, finally retrieving her whip and patting her chest before managing to steady her voice. “Leaving aside the fact that you only just arrived at Diancang Pass, and of the few people you know, probably only Yan Ji actually left the city in those days—who could you possibly send to run dirty errands?—just consider the timing chosen by the culprit. It proves they had to be someone who hadn’t been on the Sword Discussion Platforms themselves in the prior days—I ask you: if you were the instigator, why wouldn’t you pick the first round, or an early match before the third round? Why gamble on the final match? Could you be so certain you’d defeat martial artists from every major school and reach the final championship duel?”

“So that’s it!” Chen Shu suddenly realized, tilting her head back with her mouth slightly agape. Her hair ends billowed elegantly like a stallion’s mane as she nudged her black steed forward to pace a short distance. Lost in deep contemplation for a good while, she abruptly turned her head.

Likely assuming Chen Shu had further important matters to ask, Shen Jie lifted her chin and glanced up at her, only to hear Chen Shu respond crisply:

“But I truly am confident I can take first place!”

—

“This man Liu Mao,” said He Yu, “never stirs unless there’s gain in it—hardly someone who would find idle time today just to see Lord Shen off. Don’t you find it peculiar?”

“Indeed, a fair bit peculiar,” Yun Shen replied, his expression unchanged as he spoke cautiously. “Almost as if he’d known long beforehand that Right Supervisor Shen was setting out today.”

“No, not necessarily long beforehand,” He Yu countered. Exchanging a glance with the messenger traveling beside him to another city, he added, “Perhaps he did not know whether Lord Shen intended to leave the city, but he feared she might indeed venture out to inspect things. That’s why he showed up—simply to confirm.”

By chance, that messenger happened to be an acquaintance — Meng Xu, the fellow who had his Great Axe snatched from him by Chen Shu on that previous day and had inexplicably lost his weapon. Though the Sword Discussion Tournament had been interrupted amidst the flood relief efforts, Qin Xin Bluff had promptly conceded defeat. While Chen Shu never saw the promised prizes of gold, jewelry, or weaponry, having offloaded them entirely to He Yu, the sheer amount of silver alone constituted a small fortune. This was ample for He Yu to compensate those who’d lost swords or axes. Li Chou had refused with a sullen face, but Meng Xu cheerfully accepted. By that token, they could say their fray had forged goodwill—like forming a connection through conflict.

At this moment, the three men rode out from Diancang Pass, having already covered some distance and split from the other two companions. The terrain west of the city was considerably gentler than the precipitous lands to the east; rounding a single hill, they were met by a wide, flat road where even an entire cavalry troop could easily ride abreast.

Though this western road offered broad views and verdant greenery, the heart of autumn was at hand and silence gripped the world. The lush foliage had adopted a tinge of grayish hue. Under the bright light of day, the echoes of their conversation reverberated across the open country carved through the mountains only emphasizing the boundless desolation.

“I’ve entered the yamen several times for council,” Meng Xu stated, pausing to scratch his head. “I occasionally ran into Protector Liu Mao and always sensed something false in him. He puts on a false smile—no kind soul, that one. That said, though—this flood is truly once-in-a-thousand-year event; it couldn’t be tied to him. To my eyes, he’s likely worried that after Right Supervisor Shen departs, he’ll lack someone to shield him. Should the capital wield this incident as pretext, once blame falls, he’ll be crushed without any hope of escape.”

“Along Yushui River,” Yun Shen asked, “Are there dams or large weirs?”

“…Indeed there are,” Meng Xu answered, momentarily taken aback.

“And precisely in the direction Lord Shen headed,” He Yu added. He too seemed to grasp something, hissing inwardly before continuing, “This matter is complicated. Throughout history, flood relief and disaster aid have sparked both executions and ascensions through official ranks. But if deliberate man-made acts were uncovered… that would change everything utterly.”

At this, the trio fell silent. For He Yu and Meng Xu, their silence seemed to stem from gauging that further words might broach state affairs they dared not discuss recklessly. Yun Shen, meanwhile, gazed downward, clearly lost in thought.

He Yu broke the ensuing quiet, “Speaking of which Brother Yun, your journey to Mijiang Slope is itself far from straightforward; do you know this road?”

“Of course I know it,” Yun Shen replied, snapping back to awareness with a faint smile. “Brother He, rest assured, I have my bearings well in mind. Thankfully, with your help in acquiring this horse through Yan Ji, what might otherwise have been a long-delayed visit to an old friend won’t need postponing any longer. Truly, thank you.”

He Yu laughed cheerfully. “Not at all! I only managed that favor with the reward Little Shu earned, offering it as a goodwill gesture. Given Yan Ji’s nature—long as no social obligation binds him—he’d happily idly wander out a while longer. Asking him for a horse was convenient for all parties; I exerted no real effort, so don’t thank me.”

“Oh?” Meng Xu interjected, surprised. “What? Is the young master heading to Fangcheng?”

“Not to Fangcheng,” Yun Shen clarified. “It’s to Mijiang Slope.”

He Yu jumped in to explain for him: “Now, the river route’s become treacherous, and the path east of town winds through perilous mountains and valleys—far too steep. Brother Yun, a scholar without any martial arts skills like ours would fare better taking this southern route instead: cross the river in Qingqiu. From there, the whole journey threads through towns and villages—safe and passable indeed.”

“I’m quite familiar with the terrain around Yushui River,” Meng Xu smiled. “My surprise just now wasn’t about the route—it was because Fangcheng houses the very Valley of Villains. Brother Yun, weaponless as you are… venturing north into Yubei to meet a friend promises grave peril! Besides,” he continued, lowering his voice, “from what I know, Fangcheng remains fairly busy, its streets still lined with folk. But Mijiang Slope? Constant warfare through the centuries turned it barren—I heard that to fortify and protect Fangcheng, the Valley of Villains once enforced ‘Scorched Earth.’ They devastated its very surrounding villages, wiping them utterly off the map. Now even the locals are impoverished and barely hanging on… Young master, what friend requires such a journey… to that barren wilderness?”

There was a distinct bluntness to that questioning—containing a probing undertone. Having long mingled within the Martial World Alliance amidst heroic Wandering Swordsman governed by swift retributions, Meng Xu noticed nothing improper. Yet, even He Yu perceived the overstepping. Though his expression subtly revealed disapproval, perhaps fueled by natural curiosity regarding Yun Shen’s intentions, He Yu chose only a concerned glance toward Yun Shen rather than interrupting outright.

Yun continued riding steadily upon his mount beneath him. As both turned their gaze toward him, neither detected anything unusual—unexpected considering his status and station—but the fact was, he handled that horse with skill undiminished even next to Shen Jie. Since the reins had slipped first into his grasp, the beast had offered not even a hint of resistance, maintaining such docility its passage proved barely noticeable all the way up.

“I suppose,” Yun began with a helpless sigh, “not strictly only going to ‘visit’ an old friend. This journey… so momentous… and unavoidable… is… actually… to pay tribute… to a soul from my past.”