Chapter Forty-One: Reunion by the Han River, Part Two

Under their curious gazes, Yu Lianzhou’s face broke into a smile. “Let’s talk about our eighth brother instead! At that time, we had all returned to the mountain, but our master didn’t come back until half a month later. And when he did, he brought with him a child burning with fever and deep in delirium.”

“That child—was he the eighth brother?” Zhang Cuishan asked eagerly.

Zhang Wuji, too, perked up. After listening for so long, at last, the story had turned to something that piqued his interest.

“Yes,” Yu Lianzhou replied, “three years later, our master accepted this child as his last disciple. The day he joined, Wudang Mountain was abuzz with excitement.”

“Wait, second brother, something’s not right,” Yin Susu interjected, her eyes bright with curiosity. “That means the eighth brother must be less than twenty, isn’t he? But why did that Xihua Zi look so terrified the moment you mentioned him?”

“Mother, doesn’t that mean this eighth uncle isn’t much older than me?” Wuji chimed in.

Yu Lianzhou laughed. “Indeed, he’s not old at all. At most, our eighth brother has just turned seventeen this year.”

“Seventeen!” Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu exclaimed in unison, both astonished. How could a youth of seventeen command such fear among outsiders, and inspire such faith among his fellow disciples?

Yu Lianzhou chuckled, “No need to be so surprised. If you knew what the eighth brother has accomplished, you’d be even more shocked.”

“Second uncle, please tell us! Eighth uncle must be a great hero, otherwise, why would that villain be so afraid of him?” Wuji pleaded, tugging at Yu Lianzhou’s hand, anxious for the story to continue.

Yu Lianzhou, unable to resist Wuji’s earnestness, patted his head affectionately. “Very well, second uncle will tell you about your eighth uncle.”

It was no wonder Yu Lianzhou was so fond of Wuji. Among the eight second-generation disciples of Wudang, all were as close as real brothers. Before Zhang Cuishan’s family returned, the only third-generation descendant on the mountain was Song Qing Shu, the son of eldest brother Song Yuanqiao. But Song Qing Shu, spoiled by his mother, had grown arrogant and shallow—hardly a favorite of Yu Lianzhou. Now, seeing the child Wuji whom his fifth brother brought back, Yu Lianzhou was instantly fond of him. Despite the recent trouble Wuji had caused, his pure nature was clear, shaped by years in exile overseas.

In contrast to Song Qing Shu, Yu Lianzhou naturally preferred Wuji.

He began to recount the stories of the eighth brother: learning martial arts on the mountain, journeying through the world, slaying demons and bandits, punishing evildoers among the martial sects, and assembling the Black Banner Army to strike against the Mongol oppressors. With each tale, Wuji’s blood ran hotter, especially upon hearing of the eighth brother’s campaign against the Mongol tyrants, ridding the world of countless villains. Wuji clapped and cheered with delight.

“Second brother, three years ago, the eighth brother was only fourteen! Are you saying that, upon descending the mountain, his very first feat was to defeat the Blue Winged Bat King, Wei Yixiao?” Yin Susu pressed, disbelief in her eyes.

Her skepticism was understandable. Living in exile on Fire-Ice Island with Xie Xun, she had heard many tales of the past. She knew her own father, the White-Browed Eagle King, and Xie Xun, the Golden-Haired Lion King, as well as Wei Yixiao, the Blue Winged Bat King, and Daiqisi, the Violet-Clad Dragon King, were the Four Great Protectors of the Ming Sect. She understood the martial prowess of her father and sworn brother Xie Xun. Though she’d never met Wei Yixiao, she imagined his skills were not far inferior to those of her father or Xie Xun. It was hard to believe that a teenage boy could defeat such a master.

Yu Lianzhou admitted with a wry smile, “It’s true. To be honest, even before the eighth brother left the mountain, his skills had already surpassed ours.”

Yin Susu saw that, though he spoke modestly, Yu Lianzhou’s eyes shone with pride, utterly free of envy. The bond between these brothers was evidently deep and sincere.

Thinking of the secret she had kept in her heart for ten years, Yin Susu’s expression grew somber.

“Eighth brother is a true hero,” Zhang Cuishan sighed. “Compared to the good he has done, the evildoers he has vanquished, and the Mongol oppressors he has fought for the sake of the people, our own deeds pale in comparison.”

“Yes, yes! Eighth uncle is amazing—none of those so-called masters in the martial world can stand up to him. No wonder that villain was so afraid,” Wuji chimed in, clapping his hands in delight.

Though Wuji still brooded over Xihua Zi’s malice toward his godfather, Yu Lianzhou simply patted his head with amusement. “That villain fears your eighth uncle, and rightfully so. Your eighth uncle’s fame has been forged with his own fists and sword, humbling the great martial sects everywhere. Of course they fear him.”

“And as for those so-called elders who act all righteous while committing shameful deeds in secret, your eighth uncle has exposed plenty of them.”

“These days, people in the martial world both fear and dread your eighth uncle. They can’t defeat him, and they worry he might uncover some hidden shame of theirs.”

“That’s why, in the past year or two, a saying has spread through the martial world.”

“What is it, second uncle?” Wuji asked eagerly.

“That any sect or hero who has never been challenged by the Lord Without Trace isn’t even worthy of mention.”

“Eighth brother truly is extraordinary,” Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu echoed, exchanging admiring glances.

After traveling south for more than ten days, their ship finally reached the mouth of the Yangtze. Yu Lianzhou and Zhang Cuishan’s family transferred to a riverboat, heading upstream toward Hubei.

By now, Zhang Cuishan and his wife had shed their ragged fur garments. Standing together, they looked every bit the elegant couple of old, their grace undiminished by the years. Wuji, dressed in new clothes and his hair tied into two lively braids with red ribbons, was the picture of youthful charm.

Yu Lianzhou, devoted to martial arts and without wife or child, was especially fond of Wuji. Wuji, for his part, knew his stern-faced uncle was actually very kind, and would pester him with endless questions whenever there was time.

Yu Lianzhou never grew impatient, often holding Wuji in his arms at the prow of the boat, watching the river scenery. Wuji would bombard him with question after question, and Yu Lianzhou would answer in brief, yet the two got along splendidly.

After several days of travel, they arrived at Wuxue, within Hubei province. That night, they reached Fuchikou. The boatman docked, intending to spend the night.

Suddenly, Yu Lianzhou heard the neighing of horses from the shore. Glancing outside, he saw two riders turning their horses toward the town at a gallop. Though he could only see their backs, their agility marked them as martial experts.

These men had followed their boat in the middle of the night, clearly up to no good.

Yu Lianzhou turned to Zhang Cuishan. “I fear trouble if we stay here tonight. Let’s press on through the night.”

Zhang Cuishan understood the situation was growing more perilous. “Agreed.”

They summoned the boatman and rewarded him with three taels of silver, asking him to set sail at once.

Though the boatman was tired, three taels was several months’ living expenses—he was overjoyed, and immediately weighed anchor.

Two hours later, the faint sound of hooves drifted from the shore, coming clear in the night—four riders in total, moving swiftly from east to west.

The three exchanged glances. The four riders’ urgency, together with the earlier pair, made it clear that things were growing more dangerous. Still, their skills made them fearless.

Yu Lianzhou smiled faintly. “Sister-in-law, you protect Wuji. Don’t let him be frightened. Leave the rest to your fifth brother and me.”

Yin Susu peered anxiously into the darkness but saw nothing amiss. As she hesitated, Yu Lianzhou said, “There’s the glint of blades in the brush on the shore—people are lying in wait. And ahead, I suspect enemy boats in the reeds.”

Yin Susu looked around, seeing only the receding silhouettes of the earlier riders. All was silent; she thought, “Perhaps he’s seeing things?”

Suddenly, Yu Lianzhou called out in a clear voice, “Yu Lianzhou and Zhang Cuishan of Wudang greet you as we pass through your esteemed territory. If any friend is interested, why not come aboard and share a drink?”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the rush of oars sounded from the reeds. Six small boats shot out, fanning across the river to block their way.

From one boat, a signal arrow whistled into the sky. Then, from the trees on the southern bank, more than ten men in black leaped forth, each armed and masked, showing only their eyes.

Yin Susu could not help but admire Yu Lianzhou. The second uncle’s reputation was well-earned.

Seeing the overwhelming numbers and fearing a sneak attack, Yin Susu hurried into the cabin, where she found Wuji already awake.

She quickly dressed him. “Don’t be afraid, dear child,” she whispered.

Yu Lianzhou called out again, “Who leads here? Yu Lianzhou and Zhang Cuishan of Wudang greet you.”

But none of the six boats offered any reply, nor did anyone show themselves except for the oarsmen.

Suddenly, Yu Lianzhou slapped his forehead. “Not good!” He vaulted into the river.

Raised in the watery lands of Jiangnan, his swimming was superb. No sooner had he entered the water than he spotted four men, each with a sharp awl, swimming underwater toward the hull—clearly intending to sink the boat and capture its passengers alive.

Concealed by the hull, Yu Lianzhou waited for them to draw near, then struck out with both hands, sealing two men’s acupoints. With a kick, he struck the third at the “Zhishi” point by the waist.

The fourth, startled, tried to flee, but Yu Lianzhou seized his calf. Lifting all three, he flung them onto the deck.

Leaping back aboard, Yu Lianzhou said, “There seem to be some real experts on shore. We’ve shown them courtesy; let’s not waste time—let’s break through!”

Zhang Cuishan nodded, telling the boatman to press forward.

As they drew near the six boats, Yu Lianzhou picked up the four captives, unsealed their acupoints, and tossed them back.

Strangely, not only did no one respond from the boats, but the black-clad men on shore remained utterly silent, like a gathering of mutes.

Their boat was about to slip past the six-blocking vessels when, all at once, a boatman on one of the small boats raised his hand and tossed two objects. With two loud bangs, splinters flew— the rudder had been blown to pieces, and the boat spun sideways.

The culprit had thrown two oversized blasting charges, packed with extra gunpowder for greater force.

Unruffled, Yu Lianzhou leapt lightly onto the enemy boat, empty-handed but undaunted.

The oarsman stood facing forward, ignoring Yu Lianzhou’s arrival. “Who threw the explosives?” Yu Lianzhou demanded, but the man said nothing.

As Yu Lianzhou was about to question further, Yin Susu cried out, “The villains are flooding the boat!”

Yu Lianzhou looked down. Water was pouring into the hold— the enemy had pulled the plugs from the boat bottoms.

He leapt to a second boat—already half-flooded. Turning back, he said, “Fifth brother, if they're forcing us ashore, let's oblige them!”

Clearly, the six boats had been prepared in advance as stepping stones to bring them onto land.

The three adults, together with Wuji, leapt ashore.

The black-masked men had formed a semicircle, hemming them in.

Most wielded longswords; the rest brandished twin blades or whips—none carried heavy weapons.

Yu Lianzhou folded his arms, sweeping his gaze coldly across their ranks, saying nothing.

Tension charged the air; a fight seemed inevitable. Yin Susu held Wuji tightly, willing to suffer a blade rather than see him come to harm.

As the masked men prepared to strike, Zhang Cuishan and Yu Lianzhou each gathered their inner strength. At that crucial moment, a sound of galloping hooves thundered from the south bank—a horse was charging their way.

“They have reinforcements—fifth brother, now!” Yu Lianzhou shouted, ready to engage.

Just then, a clear voice called from the distance, “Is that you, second brother Yu?”

Yu Lianzhou’s face lit up with joy, halting his attack. Peering past the black-clad men toward the darkness on the south bank, he exclaimed, “Eighth brother! You’ve finally returned!”

Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu, tense with fear at the prospect of more enemies, were stunned by the unexpected call. Only when Yu Lianzhou cried, “Eighth brother!” did they realize who it was.

All eyes turned to the dark shore, eager to see the newcomer.