Chapter Forty-Two: Atop Mount Wudang

When the sound of hoofbeats drew near, it became clear that only four riders approached, each with two horses, a clear sign they had prepared fresh mounts to hurry along the road.

“Whoa…!”

With a few gentle calls, the four men dismounted. They took up torches from the black-clad men. Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu looked on and saw that the leader was a young man dressed in white, with silver eyes.

He had the brows of a noble swordsman and eyes bright as stars, with an ethereal bearing. He seemed to shine with an inner light, like the midday sun—warm, yet exuding a quiet authority that defied explanation.

Behind him stood two black-clad giants, each over nine feet tall, faces weathered and dark, with enormous swords strapped across their backs like slabs of timber.

The man to the left wore a full black beard beneath his square jaw, a stern gaze giving him an air of command. The one to the right had a thick beard covering his cheeks and chin, eyes like iron, his presence as daunting as a primordial beast.

The fourth man lingered in the shadow of the first three, not a trace of his aura revealing itself. If not for seeing him with their own eyes, none would have believed a fourth figure stood there at all.

The young man in white handed the reins to the square-faced giant, face aglow with excitement. “Second Brother, how are you? It’s been years—I’ve missed you terribly!”

At this meeting of kin, they had no thought for the black-clad interlopers, who in turn seemed thoroughly bewildered, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the road.

“You skulking scoundrels—hiding your faces, lingering like cowards. How dare you block our young master’s path? Be gone at once!”

The bearded giant glared at the black-clad men still blocking the way, his angry shout resounding like thunder crashing through the night.

Yin Susu, covering Wuji’s ears, felt her own ringing with the force—startled, she thought, This man’s inner power is astonishing, no less than my eldest brother’s Lion’s Roar.

The river itself shuddered at his shout, waves stirring and crashing, the sound echoing far and wide.

As for the dozen or so black-clad men, they took the full brunt of the force. Before the echo faded, a clatter of weapons hit the ground as their swords and knives fell from limp hands and they collapsed in a heap.

The young man in white ignored the fallen men and, in a flash, drifted forward. A blur of white—he now stood before Zhang Cuishan and Yin Susu.

Grasping his hands, Yu Lianzhou smiled, “Eighth Brother, you’ve finally returned. Before going into seclusion this year, Master mentioned you every day!”

“Second Brother, it’s all my fault—these past years, I’ve been wandering the world, making Master worry,” said the youth in white.

“It’s nothing, you’re back now. Master is only too delighted by your achievements—he’d never blame you.” Only now did Yu Lianzhou recall others stood nearby.

He pulled the young man over, chiding himself, “I’m so happy I’ve become muddle-headed. Come, let me introduce you—your Fifth Brother has come home.”

Turning the youth toward Zhang Cuishan, he said, “Fifth Brother, this is our Eighth Brother, Yuanye.” To Yuanye, “Eighth Brother, this is your Fifth Brother, Zhang Cuishan. You left for the mountain after he was gone, so you’ve never met.”

Yuanye looked up to see a man of about thirty, scholarly and refined, with an elegant, cultured air.

Yuanye greeted him warmly, “Your youngest brother Yuanye greets Fifth Brother. You truly live up to your reputation.”

“All this time, I’ve heard Second Brother tell of your heroic deeds. Now that we’ve met, I see reality surpasses all tales,” Zhang Cuishan replied with a smile.

“You two brothers, enough with the flattery,” Yu Lianzhou laughed.

Then, pointing to the woman beside Zhang Cuishan, he said, “This is Cuishan’s wife. You may call her Fifth Sister-in-law.”

Yuanye smiled, “Greetings, Fifth Sister-in-law. You’re even lovelier than the stories say. Fifth Brother is truly blessed.”

“Greetings, Eighth Brother. I’m already old and faded, hardly beautiful. It’s you whose radiance is dazzling. I wonder what lucky lady will win your favor in the future?” Yin Susu replied with a teasing smile, amused at his compliment.

“Uh…” At her words, Yuanye’s face turned slightly awkward, as though remembering someone.

“Uncle Eight, Uncle Eight, I’m here too! I’m Wuji. Uncle Eight, you’re amazing! You arrived and all the bad guys fell down!” From Susu’s arms, little Wuji poked out his head and shouted loudly.

“Heh, you’re Wuji? I’ve heard about you for a long time. These fellows are nothing. When you’re older, I’ll teach you a few skills—then you’ll handle these ruffians with ease.” Yuanye ruffled his hair with a smile.

“Say, Eighth Brother, what brings you here?” Yu Lianzhou suddenly asked.

“Second Brother, I arrived in Henan a month ago, then visited Songshan to consult with the Shaolin elders. After that, I spent a few days in their Sutra Library.”

To the others, he spoke lightly, but they guessed that battle must have shaken heaven and earth—surely their Eighth Brother had triumphed, else how would Shaolin allow him into their most sacred archive?

Yuanye continued, “Half a month ago, I descended from Songshan with some brothers. When we reached Luoyang, I heard rumors that Wudang’s Fifth Hero Zhang had returned to the Central Plains.”

“I caught the man spreading the news—he was from the Kunlun Sect, just returned from overseas. After some questioning, I learned that Fifth Brother, Fifth Sister-in-law, and Wuji had come home.”

“He also said the martial world’s factions had secretly joined forces, with people already sent to intercept you on your way back.”

“Once I learned your route, I gathered a few brothers and rode from Luoyang without rest. Luckily, we arrived just in time.”

Only now did Zhang Cuishan notice the fatigue on Yuanye’s face, wrinkles in his white robes, dust in his hair.

Perceptive as ever, he realized Yuanye must have rushed day and night upon hearing of the ambush, preparing fresh horses and racing without pause. Otherwise, with his skills, how could he appear so travel-worn?

“Eighth Brother, thank you… Fifth Brother…” His tiger eyes brimmed with tears as he grasped Yuanye’s hand, unable to say more.

“Yes, Eighth Brother, thank you. We never thought our troubles would force you to travel so far,” Yin Susu said gently.

“Fifth Brother, Fifth Sister-in-law, no need for such words. We’re family—there’s no need for formality. And if I were ever in trouble, would you not come for me?” Yuanye replied.

“Fifth Brother, rest assured. If ever you need my help, no matter the danger, I won’t bat an eye,” Zhang Cuishan said boldly.

Yin Susu nodded with a gentle smile.

Just then, the black-clad men behind them struggled shakily to their feet, all gazing at Yuanye in terror.

Feeling their stares, Yuanye turned to face them. His eyes swept over the group, then he spoke coldly, “You must know who I am by now. I won’t ask your origins. Just relay a message for me, and you may leave unharmed.”

The black-clad men looked uncertain but at last breathed a sigh of relief, secretly grateful their lives were spared.

The leftmost of them stepped forward, bowed respectfully and said, “Greetings, Young Master Wuhen. What message shall we deliver?”

Her voice was crisp; only then did Yu Lianzhou and the others realize she and several sword-wielding companions were all women.

Yuanye glanced at her, then said, “In half a month, it will be the ninth day of the fourth month—my master’s hundredth birthday. Until then, I want peace in the martial world. Anyone who stirs up trouble will answer to me.”

“As for my master’s birthday, all are welcome to Wudang Mountain to offer congratulations. But anyone who acts out of turn will find my sword is not merciful. After the eighth, I will settle all matters regarding my Fifth Brother, Xie Xun, and the Dragon-Slaying Saber.”

He finished, his gaze icy as it swept the woman and her companions. “Remember my words exactly, and report them to your masters and to all under heaven.”

His murderous intent sent a shudder through her—she trembled, voice quivering, “We will not dare misrepresent a word, Young Master. We would never trouble you again.”

“Go,” Yuanye commanded with a wave. She withdrew into her group, and the dozen men and women scattered in groups of three or four, fleeing as if chased by vengeful ghosts.

“Eighth Brother, how imposing you are,” Yin Susu thought, marveling at his disregard for the world’s heroes, “Compared to him, my old arrogance seems laughable.”

Wuji’s eyes were full of awe. To him, this Eighth Uncle was the most incredible man alive—he could scare villains senseless with only a few words.

After a little more conversation, Yuanye introduced Xiong Ba, Xiong Wu, and Zhao Fan.

Xiong Ba gave a calm greeting, then fell silent. Xiong Wu, however, scooped Wuji up with a laugh, “So you’re the young master’s nephew? I’m Xiong Wu. Next time I go looking for a fight, you’ll come with me, all right?”

“Mm! Uncle Xiong, let’s beat up the bad guys together!” Wuji nodded vigorously. He had taken a great liking to this bearded uncle who had scared the villains half to death with a single roar.

Having spent his childhood overseas, Wuji’s heart was pure. Now, surrounded by hostility in the Central Plains, finding this powerful, kind uncle made him happy.

Seeing this, Yuanye smiled to himself, thinking, If this goes on, will the shy, reserved Wuji grow up to be a rough fellow?

Fortunately, Yuanye’s party had brought enough horses. They all continued their journey through the night. By dawn, they were already near Xiangyang.

After a day’s rest at the Liu residence there, they pressed on. Three days later, they reached Shiyan Town—not far from Wudang Mountain.

These days the road was indeed peaceful. Not only did the martial factions avoid them, even the local gangs had vanished, fearing Yuanye’s wrath should he misunderstand their intentions.

After a simple midday meal in Shiyan, their longing for home quickened their pace. With less than a few days until the eighth of the fourth month, they neared the Sword-Shedding Pavilion at the foot of Wudang Mountain. Several Wudang disciples stood guard, when suddenly they heard the thunder of approaching hooves.

In surprise, they wondered who might be coming to Wudang at such a time, before the Grandmaster’s birthday.

As the riders drew near and they saw Yu Lianzhou among them, the disciples rejoiced.

“Greetings, Second Uncle! Welcome home, Uncle!” they called out, bowing deeply.

As for Yuanye and Zhang Cuishan’s party, the disciples did not recognize them. Zhang Cuishan had been gone ten years—these disciples were not yet on the mountain then. Yuanye, in the past three years, had gone from a youth to a vigorous man—how could they know him?

No one lingered to chat. Yu Lianzhou instructed them to tend the horses, then hurried the group up the mountain.

Meanwhile, in the Wudang reception hall, Song Yuanqiao and Mo Shenggu sat as hosts.

Song Yuanqiao, dressed in Daoist robes, wore a serene, gentle expression as ever. His appearance had changed little in ten years, except for a touch of gray at the temples and a body grown somewhat plumper with middle age.

Mo Shenggu had grown into a towering, sturdy man. Though only in his twenties, his beard was already thick—had Yuanye been there, he might have teased him for aging before his time.

Opposite them sat three men, each about fifty years old. One was imposing and fierce, one tall and thin with a refined look, and the last, though occupying the seat of honor, seemed sickly and withered.

Behind these three stood five attendants, clearly their disciples or followers.