The Affairs of the Martial World - Vol 5: Chapter 2

A carriage rolled slowly along the muddy roads of early spring.

Inside the carriage, Zhu Que lay back, silently piecing together the details of Shen Qingyun’s case. He could hardly fathom how a man tasked with guarding the treasury could, several times a day, carry out a few ingots of silver right under everyone’s noses, stash them away in secret, and somehow amass a fortune of 170,000 taels before finally being caught—without anyone ever suspecting a thing. It was utterly absurd.

Yet if it was so unreasonable, surely the officials handling the case must have realized it too. Why then was the verdict handed down as it was?

Since it made no sense, he pushed the matter aside.

From Wuxi County to Changzhou Prefecture was more than a hundred li. Setting out at dawn, the carriage traveled all day and arrived only at dusk.

Upon reaching Changzhou, Zhu Que’s first destination was the largest guild here, the local faction of the Beggar Sect.

Changzhou was crisscrossed with waterways. The entire city was encircled by a moat, and countless smaller canals branched outward. Most locals traveled by boat rather than on foot, hence the saying: “In the north, they ride horses; in the south, they sail boats.”

Zhu Que hired a small skiff and made his way toward Jilong Mountain, where the Beggar Sect often gathered.

By then, the spring rain had ceased, and lanterns were beginning to glow. Lights dotted the riversides like scattered stars, painting a scene of prosperity.

After disembarking, Jilong Mountain was not far. Zhu Que strolled toward the slopes, deliberately refraining from using his light-foot martial arts, lest the Beggar Sect mistake his approach as hostile.

The sky darkened into twilight, and Jilong Mountain emerged before him.

It wasn’t truly a mountain—merely a hillock cloaked in dense pines and cypresses. Aside from birdsong and the chirping of insects nearby, and the distant calls of chickens and dogs, all was hushed.

As Zhu Que walked alone on a barely discernible path, two figures suddenly emerged from behind twin trees. The dusk obscured their features, but their ragged clothing marked them as Beggar Sect sentries.

Zhu Que raised his voice politely, “Friends of the Beggar Sect, I trust you’ve been well. I’ve come to see your Brother Yao. Please pass word for me.”

One of them asked, “Might we know your name, sir? And for what purpose do you seek our Big Brother?”

“I am Zhu Que,” he replied. “As for the matter, it’s not something I can explain here. Once I see him, I’ll speak plainly.”

The two exchanged a glance. One said suspiciously, “You claim to be Zhu Que? The great hero Zhu Que, who is known across the land?”

“Indeed, that is I,” Zhu Que answered. “Though I dare not accept the title of great hero. Please, just deliver the message.”

The two nodded knowingly. One stayed to keep watch, while the other sprinted up the hill to report.

Something about their manner struck Zhu Que as off, though he couldn’t place it. He could only wait in silence.

Soon, a crowd of beggars stormed down the hill. Zhu Que thought to himself: No need to greet me with such a spectacle. Since when did Yao Hongjin become so showy?

But as they drew near, he realized their Big Brother, Yao Hongjin, was nowhere among them. Startled, he blurted out, “Where is Big Brother Yao?”

Their captain was a stocky, unfamiliar middle-aged man in tattered clothes, gripping an iron staff as tall as his brows. He tilted it forward rudely and demanded, “Who are you really, to dare impersonate the great hero Zhu Que?”

The gesture was insolent, yet Zhu Que had always been on good terms with the Beggar Sect, so he took no offense. He said calmly, “I’m no great hero, nor is there anything worth impersonating. I only ask, where is your Big Brother, Yao Hongjin?”

A quick-tongued disciple spoke up, “Big Brother Yao is no longer our captain. This here is Captain Peng Jinshan, now in charge of the faction. If you truly are Zhu Que, kindly state your business with our faction’s former captain.”

The phrase former captain caught Zhu Que off guard. Glancing over the disciples, he found no difference from those he’d known before. They were all just as disheveled and ragged. He clasped his hands politely and said, “I see. I did not know. Then might Captain Peng tell me where my good friend Yao Hongjin has gone, and why he was stripped of his title?”

Captain Peng exchanged a glance with one of his men, who stepped out and barked at Zhu Que, “We don’t know if you are truly Zhu Que. You pry into Beggar Sect affairs. If you really are him, then show us some skill to prove it. If not… heh, what business have you snooping about in our stronghold?”

Zhu Que snorted. “So you’ve changed Big Brother and also changed the rules as well. To bully and domineer like this, is this how you now treat your friends?”

The disciple shouted, “Friend or foe, we’ll soon see. Take this!”

He lunged with a punch. The technique itself was nothing unusual, but the strength behind it was considerable. His blows whistled through the air like tigers stirring the wind, drawing cheers from the watching beggars.

Though annoyed by the disciple’s rudeness, Zhu Que still behaved with courtesy; he merely sidestepped, without striking back. The beggar thought Zhu Que had been cowed by his power, so his second punch came even fiercer. Zhu Que dodged again, then gave way to a third blow. Out of respect for his friendship with the Beggar Sect, he allowed three attacks without retaliation.

But the disciple was oblivious, his fourth punch stronger still, shouting as he struck, while the others shouted encouragement.

As the fist came at him, Zhu Que caught the man’s wrist. Channeling force into the Huizong acupoint1, he sealed the meridians down half his body. Before the cheers of the Beggar Sect had even died away, Zhu Que released him, and the disciple collapsed limply to the ground, paralyzed. The cries of praise cut off at once. None of them had expected that, for all their companion’s bluster, he couldn’t even last a single move against Zhu Que. They stared in dumbfounded silence.

Peng Jinshan, being more experienced, understood their man had been struck with pressure-point sealing, though he hadn’t even seen Zhu Que’s hand move. He quickly ordered the others to help the fallen disciple back.

Zhu Que said calmly, “Now, is that proof enough that I am Zhu Que?”

Peng Jinshan slammed his iron staff against the ground. “Defeating one junior disciple proves nothing. If you can overcome this Demon-Subduing Staff of mine, then I’ll believe you.”

“There’s no need for this,” Zhu Que replied.

“Take this!” Peng Jinshan shouted.

With a move from the Demon-Subduing Staff Technique, the iron rod swept out in waves, shadows of the staff multiplying until Zhu Que had no chance to speak further.

The moment Peng Jinshan struck, it was clear he was no ordinary disciple—his force and presence were of another caliber. Zhu Que knew he mustn’t injure him, yet couldn’t meet that staff barehanded either. He thought it pointless to clash with the Beggar Sect now; win or lose, it served no purpose. He decided to leave first and find out what had happened to the Beggar Sect before meeting them again.

With that, he unfurled his lightness skill. Turning half a circle in midair, he leapt upward and landed on the trunk of a tall tree. Peng Jinshan’s strike cut through empty space. He looked up and saw Zhu Que standing calmly among the branches.

Short and stout, Peng Jinshan was poor at lightness skill, so he shouted angrily for Zhu Que to come down and fight.

Zhu Que twirled lightly again, alighting on another tree trunk. “Since Brother Yao Hongjin is not here today, it seems I came rashly. We are friends, not enemies—there’s no need for endless strife. Someday, if you meet your Chief Wang, give him my regards. For now, I’ll take my leave.”

With that, Zhu Que spread his form like a great wild goose, soaring into the forest and vanishing from sight.

Seeing Zhu Que’s movement, Peng Jinshan knew he was no match. Doubt tugged at him, “Could this man truly be Zhu Que?”

An older beggar nearby said, “I’d wager he is. That lightness skill he displayed, even our chief himself might not match it. Looked very much like the legendary Cloud-Stepping Technique.”

Peng Jinshan turned toward the place Zhu Que had disappeared. “If he really is Zhu Que, that could mean trouble. We must inform the chief at once……”

Zhu Que, meanwhile, felt disheartened. He had come seeking the Beggar Sect’s help, but instead found himself at odds with them. Not only had they failed to aid him, but they might even bring him trouble later. Yao Hongjin’s whereabouts remained a mystery. What had he done to be stripped of his position?

By now it was night. It was too late to call on other friends in the martial world, so he found a tavern, ate and drank his fill, then lodged at an inn.

The next morning, eating breakfast at a roadside stall, Zhu Que pondered where he might begin investigating the treasury’s missing silver.

Among Jiangnan’s martial artists, aside from the Beggar Sect, who else could assist him? After much thought, he suddenly recalled Le Yishan of the Eight Trigrams Sect.

Le Yishan’s Taiji Eight-Trigrams Palm was not well known in the martial world, but his reputation did not rest on martial skill. He was known for befriending all. Any visitor from the martial world, he treated with utmost hospitality. Thus, he earned the nickname “Le Mengchang2.” His acquaintances spanned every school and sect, both the righteous orthodox and the dubious unorthodox. Thanks to this, he got along well everywhere.

Though Zhu Que had no personal ties with him, he believed that if he sought Le Yishan’s help, he would not be turned away.

After finishing his meal, Zhu Que asked passersby for the Le family’s address, then went to a stableyard and hired a carriage to take him there.