Chapter 66

Sunset descended, its final ray catching the gravel-strewn riverbank. In that fleeting moment, the pebbles reflected a flash of rosy light before the eastern slope of Liangyu Mountain slipped from the sun’s grasp, plunging into boundless gloom.

Within Mijiang Slope, the long-ruined houses held not a single glimmer of light. Even the scattered starlight strewn across the vast night sky seemed livelier than this pitch-black village, where shadows and remnants of dwellings blurred beyond distinction.

Though autumn had arrived, the ceaseless chirping of summer cicadas echoed as if their lives remained unspent, merging into the heavy silence of the night. Amidst this flowing darkness, a candle finally sputtered alight––the lone surviving inn of the town flickered into existence.

Its weak, warm glow seeped through the paper windows, flickering faintly. It failed to pierce the deathly stillness of the profound night. From afar, it resembled but a solitary earthly star, no different from its celestial kin. Perhaps stirred by this dim flame, the cicadas fell silent. Only the wind nudged the shop curtain now and then, brushing the windowsill and casting elongated, slender shadows upon the ground.

“You may enter,” the Innkeeper announced, lifting a candle toward Yun Shen as he motioned with his chin.

Yun Shen had been seated at a random table, eyes closed, lost in unspoken thoughts. The teacup before him had long dried, its very trace vanished, yet no one refilled it. The inn itself, though decaying, revealed hints of past grandeur through carved railings, latticed windows, and painted beams––old and worn, yet defiantly proud.

But the inn held others besides Yun Shen and the Innkeeper. Before him stood people––men and women alike––who’d appeared from the alley’s broken walls earlier that day. Each bore weapons, each radiated menace. They now encircled Yun Shen: some stood guard, arms folded by the door; others slouched against chairbacks, resting; one faced the light in silence, idly teasing the candle flame with his dagger.

In this scene, no one––not even the most detached monk or hermit––could muster the calm to admire the inn’s architecture. Truly, the Innkeeper’s rough call was a lifeline, sparing Yun Shen much grief.

Yun Shen opened his eyes in response, pushing back his chair. Its soft scrape pierced the tomb-like quiet, drawing cold glares sharp enough to prick his back even as he turned down the hallway and stepped into the hidden passageway beyond.

Behind the concealed door stretched another corridor. By candlelight, engravings could be seen entwined with the stone’s natural grain along both walls, vanishing into unlit depths. Upon closer inspection, faint bloodstains revealed themselves upon the grey stone bricks––an eerie beauty beneath the carved patterns, as if the earth of Mijiang Slope had wept blood for centuries. It felt chillingly natural.

Yun Shen was no stranger to hidden doors and passages. Once, he’d even “fortune” to glimpse the wooden tunnel beneath the Swordmasters’ Summit. That passage boasted only a single room––opulent, more parlor than secret chamber.

Stone tunnels were different. Here, darkness thickened like tar, swallowing all light. Countless lost souls had clearly perished beneath this earth, their pleas trapped within the prison-like soil.

This was no inn. It was a garrison.

Yet Yun Shen walked steadily onward, eyes fixed forward, unfazed by the gruesome stones. Halting calmly with the Innkeeper at the corridor’s end, one might––watching his assured stride––mistake him for the inn’s true master.

“We’re here,” the Innkeeper announced from ahead, glancing back. He seemed ready to speak, then faltered. Silent, he merely pushed open the door and handed Yun Shen his candle before retreating.

Yun Shen stepped in.

The secret room within held no light––only Yun Shen’s candle weakly illuminated racks of cold weapons and instruments. Across the room stood a heavy iron desk, upon which sat a figure nearly swallowed by shadow. When he finally spoke, his voice rasped, unnervingly lifeless.

“How… did you learn of the Mounted Bandits?” came the question.

“I captured some,” Yun Shen replied. “Sharing intelligence with officials, I learned of rampant banditry in Yunan. As for who pulls their strings… easy to guess.”

A shake of the shadowed head brought a muffled crack––bones grinding as if unused to movement. The sound echoed grimly in the confining space.

“No… Lies. These clumsy deceits won’t work. You lack the strength to fight Mounted Bandits!”

Yun Shen lowered his eyes, whispering a quiet laugh that seemed entirely unafraid of the threat implied. He advanced two steps, calmly shutting the door behind him.

“True,” Yun Shen admitted smoothly. “I know no martial arts. I’m frail––no brute force at all. How then,” he paused near the iron desk, “could one subdue tyrants who terrorize an entire territory?”

The room choked on gloom. Only the stranger’s eyes shone clearly, reflecting Yun Shen’s candle––fierce and predatory.

“What…” the figure shifted hidden fingers, “…do you imply? Mistake this place for noblemen’s leisurely escapade? Disastrous error…”

Casually he placed an arm on the iron desk. Light touched his hand: knuckles grotesquely sharp as skin stretched over bones, fingertips stripped of nails, leaving raw black scabs exposed. His finger-taps against the metal came slow, stiff, chilling in their rhythm.

Yet Yun Shen barely glanced. As if witnessing nothing out of ordinary, his gaze flickered away unfazed. He answered slowly, coolly.

“My earlier claim,” Yun Shen stated, “was mere key to this door––exaggerated to secure an audience, to bring news… to your valley? Your fortress? Regardless, your dismissal was hasty. Strength comes not always from fists. Using others to kill… pitting tigers against wolves..” A faint smile emerged, “…are also paths, wouldn’t you say?”

“You do have a quick tongue,” the man said in a low voice.

“If I couldn’t debate a word or two, I’m afraid my little life would have perished long ago here on Mijiang Slope, wouldn’t it?”

This remark finally struck the man’s nerve. He bared his lips, revealing a row of fine, sharp teeth with a sinister smile, and said, “That wouldn’t have happened either. Few come to Mijiang Slope these years, and I’m in need of ingredients for medicine. I wouldn’t let you off with such an easy death… What a pity. Since you’ve brought up the official business from above, you’re no longer usable. Tell me—since you’ve guessed that my Valley of Villains was behind this, why not inform the authorities? Instead, you came to Mijiang Slope yourself, walking right into the net. Aren’t you afraid of being silenced?”

“The world has countless affairs; I can’t meddle in them all. I truly came to Mijiang Slope to pay respects to the legacy of our predecessors,” said Yun Shen.

He spoke earnestly, and his expression seemed genuine, but the man snorted with contempt before he could finish. Rising from the iron table, the man walked to the side of the torture rack and ran his blood-crusted fingers over the cold, gleaming instruments with unnatural softness. “If you don’t wish to speak the truth… I can help you.”

“What I said is indeed the truth,” Yun Shen replied without altering his expression. He considered for a moment, then added, “However, after arriving at Mijiang Slope and stepping into this inn… seeing your people did spark my curiosity. I have few other flaws, but this insatiable thirst for knowledge is one I’ve never shaken. I truly wished to verify certain clues, certain rumors, as well as some unverified hypotheses, so I dared to bring them up. Sir, you needn’t be tense. Consider it my pledge to join. I do have designs in fostering relations with your esteemed sect—”

“What hypotheses?” The man cut him off. “What rumors have you heard?”

“Did I not just mention them earlier?” Yun Shen sighed, pausing as if hesitating or deliberately baiting the man’s curiosity, before continuing with an air of helplessness. “Your dispatched Mounted Bandits were captured. They spilled everything pertinent, and so—”

“—Impossible!” the man snapped. “I’ve already told you—do not peddle such clumsy lies! Those Mounted Bandits have ties to my Valley of Villains, but we did not command their raid on the horses! No matter how they were tortured, they couldn’t have betrayed—!”

“Oh?” Yun Shen mused. “Has ‘his majesty the mountain lord’ not briefed you yet? The bandits indeed didn’t confess. Their mouths slipped only after accidentally uncovering an operative you’d planted in Linbo Prefecture… Now that I mention it, though inconspicuous, this hidden agent likely outranks you within the Valley of Villains—hence why you knew nothing of his orders to those bandits, or his reports back to Linbo Prefecture. Am I right?”

“You—!”

Yun Shen laid bare his words: blunt, seemingly sincere, and profoundly insulting. It was reminiscent of Chen Shu, and it detonated the man’s simmering fury. The man pointed a finger at Yun Shen in anger, then retracted it as if suddenly recalling something. He let out a frigid chuckle. “You speak so arrogantly, wielding words as weapons to threaten—tell me, did you come to submit, or… to spy?!”

“It’s also true,” Yun Shen conceded, as if just recalling something himself. He gave his sleeve a light adjustment and spoke with easy amusement. “I did come to ask a favor of you. Earlier, you interrupted before I could finish.

“I am merely an ordinary person. My purpose here isn’t wealth, not power…”

The man tilted his head to observe Yun Shen with deliberate calm, eyes narrowed, waiting. His wrist twisted methodically, hinting at coiled lethality. Should any word from Yun Shen fall out of tune, he’d erupt in lethal motion, reducing Yun Shen’s existence to a final, pitiful wisp of complaint among the countless others who had perished in this secret room’s history.

Yun Shen, however, remained unfazed. He continued composedly, and at this precise juncture, allowed an incongruously gentle smile to unfurl across his face.

“I… admire a young woman,” he confessed. “I long to claim her as my own. Only…

“I am an unexceptional scholar, yet she? She is nothing less than a peerless heroine.”