Chapter Forty-Seven: The Thief

A glimmer of cold light flashed in Liu Shuyi’s eyes as his figure spun rapidly, unexpectedly employing his Spirit Leaping Technique within the cramped space of the tavern. Yet, to Nalan Xiner, his antics were nothing more than the trifling tricks of a clown, not worth a second glance.

Though Xiner’s hand had not yet reached him, her violet flower had already grown long and robust. Suddenly, a scream echoed in the air—Liu Shuyi was struck squarely on the right arm by the Violet Blossom Pressure Point Hand, dropping him from midair with a thud. He crashed to the floor, shattering the wooden stool beneath him. In the next instant, a crimson figure swept over, and with a single movement, Xiner pressed her dainty foot upon Liu Shuyi’s neck, pinning him beneath her golden slipper.

The bearded man was startled, his face darkening instantly—gone was the leisurely amusement he had moments before. Gruffly, he demanded, “May I ask which sect you hail from, and what your purpose is in coming to Guihai City?”

It was then that Mo Bai and his companions realized they had arrived at Guihai City, the great city situated between the Yihua Sect and the Cloud Heaven Sect. The Haikun Gang, it seemed, was a power under Guihai’s jurisdiction, though their methods left much to be desired.

Wuluohua rose slowly from behind, flicked open his folding fan, and with a gentle laugh replied, “The world is vast; we siblings go wherever we please. What of Guihai City? Even the Cloud Heaven Sect doesn’t mind our coming and going.” With that, he lifted his head in proud defiance.

He was met with a murderous glare from Nalan Xiner, causing Wuluohua to shrink his neck and sit back down in surprise.

Though Wuluohua was no longer arrogant, the mere mention of the Cloud Heaven Sect from his lips startled the bearded man. So, they were disciples of the Cloud Heaven Sect. Steadying himself, the man cupped his hands and said, “I am Zhang Biao, an outer disciple of the Fallen Leaf Sect and second-in-command of the Haikun Gang. Gentlemen, might you grant us a bit of face?”

Nalan Xiner sneered, “And what ‘face’ do you want?” Clearly, she held little regard for the Fallen Leaf Sect, another of the Five Great Spirit Sects, and deliberately twisted her ankle atop Liu Shuyi’s neck. Pitiful as he was, a cultivator himself, Liu Shuyi could only whimper in pain, utterly helpless.

Zhang Biao paused for a moment, surprised by her bluntness. Then, raising his voice, he said, “On the Linglong Continent, all spirit cultivators are of one family. The Cloud Heaven Sect and the Fallen Leaf Sect are both among the Five Great Spirit Sects and should cherish their kinship. Today, my brother was disrespectful to the young lady. Would you be gracious enough to let him go?” He glanced downward and added, “Be gracious enough to lift your foot and spare my fourth brother.”

By now, much of Nalan Xiner’s anger had subsided. With a flick of her foot, she sent Liu Shuyi tumbling under Zhang Biao’s feet. Liu Shuyi howled in pain, his scholarly poise utterly shattered.

A few Haikun Gang underlings hurried over to help Liu Shuyi to his feet. Seeing his brother safely back by his side, Zhang Biao felt somewhat relieved. The Haikun Gang may have been a third-rate group in Guihai City, but they had never suffered such a humiliation in these outskirts. Wanting to preserve some dignity, Zhang Biao called out, “May I ask the young lady to leave us her name, so the Haikun Gang can remember today’s events? Perhaps one day, we will have the chance to repay this debt.” His so-called “repay” was, in truth, a threat of revenge.

Nalan Xiner, pure as ever, merely scoffed. “No need for repayment. Just leave, and quickly.”

The burly man was left speechless with rage. Just then, a strange fragrance wafted through the air.

Nalan Xiner felt a sudden dizziness, but quickly regained her senses. Mo Bai waved his hand, sending out a stream of spiritual energy, and said calmly, “Don’t bother using such lowly tricks as the Light Orchid Perfume again—you only embarrass yourselves.”

Zhang Biao’s group was instantly alarmed, especially the seductive woman in violet among them. She had meant to use the incense to render them unconscious, never expecting her ploy to be seen through so easily. The Light Orchid Perfume was no top-tier poison, but it was deadly effective against ordinary cultivators—she had never failed before. Just now, seeing Xiner nearly faint, she’d been sure of success. Yet, the quiet one among them dispelled her technique with a mere flick of the wrist.

Only now did Zhang Biao and the others feel a tinge of genuine fear; the true master among these visitors had not spoken a word.

Zhang Biao wanted to save face with some final retort, but before he could, Nalan Xiner had already recovered. “Despicable!” she shouted, preparing to lunge forward again.

At that moment, another commotion broke out at the tavern door. More than a dozen well-built men strode in, all clearly seasoned fighters. Leading them was a handsome young man, impeccably dressed and exuding poise, a golden sword gleaming at his waist. He called out, “Friends of the Haikun Gang, these next few days are the time of my sister’s wedding. Might I ask you to grant us some courtesy and leave Gan Fort for now? After the wedding, I, Gan Ying, will personally pay my respects to Leader Jiang.”

Zhang Biao cursed inwardly. This young Gan was none other than the eldest son of Gan Fort’s master and, like himself, a disciple of the Fallen Leaf Sect. Their cultivation skills were evenly matched. With strong opponents before him and rivals at his back, Zhang Biao was momentarily at a loss.

Gan Ying, too, was taken aback. He’d assumed Zhang Biao would show him some respect, but the man had ignored him outright. Hot-blooded as he was, Gan Ying’s temper flared. “If Second Chief Zhang won’t show courtesy, don’t blame me for showing none in return! Men, attack!” At his command, his followers surged forward, and a brawl erupted with the Haikun Gang.

The Haikun Gang, long accustomed to throwing their weight around, had already suffered several setbacks today. There was no way they’d let others trample them further, and so the two sides clashed in a full-scale melee. Chaos reigned; people were tossed from the tavern, and some fell near Mo Bai’s group.

Wuluohua and Nalan Xiner watched with excitement. Such a mass brawl was a rare spectacle, especially with such a motley mix—spirit cultivators and ordinary fighters hardened by years of training alike. The scene was lively indeed. Yet, it was clear the cultivators, especially Gan Ying and Zhang Biao, were the main force.

Gan Ying’s golden sword intermittently sent out flashes of spiritual sword-light. Though not deadly sharp, the strikes still drew cries of pain. Zhang Biao’s massive iron blade whirled about with equal ferocity.

Guihai City’s eastern quarter was Haikun Gang territory, and only Gan Fort could rival them here. The Haikun Gang had come seeking trouble today—having already been disgraced by Mo Bai’s group, they now vented all their fury upon Gan Fort’s men.

Suddenly, a shout thundered through the tavern: “Damn it, there’s a thief! My jade pendant is gone!” The cry was like a thunderclap in chaos, halting both factions as they turned to the source.

Wuluohua looked at his waist in frustration. He hadn’t expected his jade pendant to be stolen, nor that he’d shout so loudly. With everyone staring at him now, his anger only grew. He bellowed, “Well, aren’t you all something! Fighting and stealing at the same time! I have to admire such skill.”

The crowd was stunned. Gan Ying’s face flushed as he hurried to explain, “Brother, everyone in Gan Fort is honest—we would never stoop to such petty thievery.” He glanced meaningfully at Zhang Biao.

Zhang Biao caught the look and shouted, “Friend, despite our misunderstandings, the Haikun Gang is not so despicable! Gan Fort may have a fine reputation, but I never thought it was for this sort of thing.”

Gan Ying’s sword-like brows shot up as he snapped, “What did you say? Courting death?” He drew his sword to advance.

Just then, someone coughed. It was Mo Bai, who turned to Wuluohua and asked, “Little Hua, does that jade pendant your grandfather gave you have any other significance?”

Wuluohua was quick-witted and immediately understood Mo Bai’s intent. Unlike himself or Nalan Xiner, who found everything novel, Mo Bai was always composed. Wuluohua replied, “Nothing special—just feels odd not having it, that’s all.” He pressed his now-empty sash.

Mo Bai smiled serenely. “Then let’s go. As long as this isn’t lost, it’s all right.” He took out a peculiar wooden comb and waved it in front of Wuluohua.

Wuluohua understood at once—their trip to the Yihua Sect to break his spiritual seal was their true purpose. With this in mind, he let go of his grievance and declared boldly, “Forget it. I’ll take the loss as a blessing. Out of the way, I’m leaving.”

The three of them stood to go, but before they could reach the door, someone called out, “Brother, you can’t leave yet!”