Chapter 15: Chivalry in Action

In less than half an hour, most of the delicious dishes that had been brought out one after another by the young waiter were already devoured by Yuanye. Shortly after, the waiter returned with a warmed jug of wine, his face beaming with smiles. “Sir, here’s the wine you asked for—this is our inn’s finest Dukang wine, renowned far and wide. Even guests from Wuchang travel hundreds of miles just to taste it.”

Yuanye lifted the lid, lightly waved his left hand, and took in the scent with a twitch of his nose. Instantly, the intoxicating fragrance filled his nostrils—delicate, refined, and richly mellow. Judging by the aroma alone, Yuanye could tell this Dukang was a rare and exceptional vintage.

In his previous life, his work had constantly placed him among strangers, always amid banquets and toasts; such affairs were an inescapable part of his daily routine. Thus, though only in his twenties, he was already a connoisseur of fine spirits.

Seeing the young gentleman satisfied, the waiter finally allowed himself to relax a little, and was about to go downstairs to attend to other patrons. “Wait a moment, my good man, I have something to ask you,” Yuanye called just as the waiter turned at the stairway.

This was Yuanye’s first time descending the mountain, and he was unfamiliar with the people and places here. It was the perfect opportunity to glean some information from the inn’s staff.

The waiter paused, then hurried back, his expression honest as he asked, “Sir, is there some problem with the dishes or the wine?”

“Not at all. I merely have a few questions for you.” Yuanye poured himself a cup of wine and downed it in one gulp before continuing.

The waiter’s tense expression eased a little. “Ask away, sir. I’ll answer whatever I know.” Clearly, he was already accustomed to such inquiries.

Yuanye asked, “Tell me, has anything strange happened in town recently?”

At these words, the waiter’s face changed, growing oddly hesitant for a moment before he replied, “Sir, our town lies at the foot of Mount Wudang, and with the great Master Zhang’s reputation protecting us, not even thieves or brigands dare approach. It’s always been peaceful here.”

“Oh? Then do you know if anything has happened recently in the Ling family?” Yuanye pressed.

At this, the waiter’s face blanched. He glanced around to make sure none of the other guests were paying attention to their conversation before letting out a quiet breath. His expression flickered with indecision, but after a few moments, he bent close to Yuanye and whispered, “Sir… are you one of the Ling family’s allies?”

An ally?

“Could it be that something truly has happened to the Ling family?” Yuanye thought to himself.

He had come straight to Shiyan Town after descending the mountain, not only to purchase supplies and horses but also for another important matter. His eldest senior brother, Song Yuanqiao, was married to the eldest daughter of the Ling family in town, and every month at the new moon, the Ling family head would send supplies up the mountain. Yet this month, though it was already half over, nothing had arrived—a most unusual occurrence. Hearing that Yuanye intended to travel, Song Yuanqiao had asked him to stop by and see if anything had gone wrong with the Ling family.

It now appeared that something had indeed happened.

“I am a disciple of Wudang. Please, tell me what has happened to the Ling family,” Yuanye said, rising and bowing.

“So you’re a young hero from Wudang?” The waiter’s voice grew urgent. “Last night, the eldest son of the Ling family was murdered in the street. Old Madam Ling cried herself blind—such a tragedy…”

“The eldest son is dead?” Yuanye’s expression darkened.

The Ling family, as in-laws to Song Yuanqiao, the next head of Wudang, were well known in Shiyan and its surroundings. Who would dare risk the wrath of Wudang to kill a mere mortal?

Suddenly, Yuanye’s gaze grew steely as he peered toward a private room not far away. “Villain, don’t even think of escaping!”

With a shout, Yuanye leapt into the air, his body flashing like a gust of wind as he crashed into the private room—only to find it already empty, the window swung wide open.

He dashed out, seizing the waiter by his collar. “Which direction is the Ling residence?”

The waiter, pale with terror, could only manage to point eastward.

Letting him go, Yuanye vaulted out the window, stepping lightly in midair until he landed atop a rooftop dozens of yards away. He darted from roof to roof, white robes billowing, long hair flowing behind him like a celestial being. The townsfolk below looked up in wonder and cried out in awe.

But Yuanye’s heart was in turmoil; he had no mind to notice any of this.

“What marvelous lightness skill! So young, yet already so accomplished—Wudang grows ever more formidable,” an old man in a brocade robe praised from his window.

That day, white banners and cloth hung at the entrance to the Ling residence. Two burly men in short blue jackets, each holding a long blade, stood vigil with grim determination, though their eyes betrayed their unease. These were the Ling family guards—little wonder they were anxious, for the eldest son had been killed in the street the day before, the murderer vanishing without a trace.

Suddenly, a sharp sound split the air from across the rooftops. The two guards tensed instantly, staring at the roof opposite. The eldest son’s attendant had said he’d heard only a faint sound before turning to see his master dead—so at the slightest noise, both men’s hearts raced with dread.

Moments later, they saw a youth in white glide across the rooftops, stepping lightly through the air before landing before them. The two guards were dumbstruck, staring as Yuanye stood atop the stone lion at the gate like an immortal.

After a stunned pause, the taller guard came to his senses. Friend or foe? He stepped forward, blade flashing from its sheath as he pointed it at the youth and demanded, “Who are you, and what business have you at the Ling residence?”

Yuanye glanced down at the guard, unimpressed, and leapt down from the lion’s head. With a gentle tap of his foot, he appeared before the guard in a heartbeat.

A crisp clang rang out, followed by a snap. Before the guard could react, Yuanye flicked the blade with his white fingers, and the steel sword broke cleanly in two as if it were made of clay. The broken blade clattered to the ground as the guard staggered back in terror. “Are you a ghost? You’re the one who killed the young master!”

But the other guard was just as stunned, rooted to the spot.

With a thud, the two crashed together and tumbled to the ground.

“I am a disciple of Wudang. Where are your master and mistress? Take me to them at once—the villain is already here! There’s no time to lose!” Yuanye barked.

“A disciple of Wudang…” the two guards exclaimed in relief and delight.

“Young hero, are you truly from Wudang?”

The taller guard, now more composed, gingerly approached Yuanye and asked quietly, “Are you really who you say you are?”

“Would I bother deceiving you? Take me to your master, he’ll know me,” Yuanye replied impatiently.

“Yes, yes, young hero—right this way. Master and madam are both in the mourning hall,” the guard said, leading Yuanye inside.

“Master, wonderful news! A young hero from Wudang has arrived!” the guard called as they approached the mourning hall.

Moments later, an old man stumbled hurriedly down the steps. Even before reaching Yuanye, he cried out in anguish, “Is that Yuanqiao? My good son-in-law, if you’d come any later, my whole family would have perished!”

Yuanye thought to himself, This must be the Ling family head, my senior brother Song Yuanqiao’s father-in-law.

Supporting the old man, Yuanye introduced himself. “Yuanye of Wudang pays his respects, Uncle Ling.”

Only now did the old master see that the youth before him was perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old. Yuanye had grown tall—already 1.7 meters at fourteen—and the old man did not find it odd to mistake him for someone older.

Yet seeing only a young man, the old master’s face darkened. The killer had come and gone like a ghost—how could this youth possibly contend with such a foe?

Suddenly, the old master asked, “Nephew, are you the young disciple of Master Zhang?”

He recalled that his daughter had once mentioned Master Zhang of Wudang taking a new disciple named Yuanye, gifted and precocious, whose skills were already equal to his seniors, and whom even Song Yuanqiao had praised as the brightest among the disciples.

If this was indeed Yuanye, then there was hope for the Ling family, and his son’s death might yet be avenged.

“Uncle Ling, do you know me?” Yuanye asked in surprise.

He had never left the mountain before—how could the old master recognize him?

“It’s like this…” the old master began to explain.

“So my senior sister-in-law told you,” Yuanye realized. His heart lightened. Though he was not yet known in the martial world, already tales of him had spread; it was a pleasant feeling.

“How dare you injure others in my presence!” Yuanye suddenly roared, pulling the old master aside as his sword flashed from its sheath, forming a seamless barrier.

With a rapid series of metallic clangs, countless steel needles rained down before Yuanye and the old master, gleaming coldly on the ground. The old master’s face turned ashen with fear. Had those needles struck, they would have been pierced like hedgehogs.

The guard who had led Yuanye in, as well as two servants behind the old master, were not so lucky. Their bodies and faces were riddled with needles.

“Vile scoundrel, using poison!” Yuanye muttered as he saw them frothing at the mouth, their skin turning a ghastly purple. Even he felt a chill crawl up his spine.

“That was close—one more step and I would have met my end right in the first chapter,” Yuanye thought, heart pounding in fear.