470 The Eye of the Storm (2/2)
”Then you know not of whom you speak. A cunning man of devious designs he can be, this Fan Changmiao. None had heard of him in the past.He emerged from the unknown and rose to Martial Arts Scholar the year before, becoming the first man to win the martial discipline examinations before achieving a spot on the Ranking List of Young Masters. He has had a rousing performance thus far, eager to push himself into the top ten,” the man elaborated, caressing the hilt of his sword.
”Still, this is great news for the man. Fan Changmiao has already made his mark at fifteenth place on the list,” answered the scholar, still baffled.
This was hardly of any concern to Killing Blade.
”It could have been. With his present rank on the list, Fan Changmiao required no further endorsement to quell the whispers of suspicion that rose among his doubters,” explained the smiling man whose fingertips continued to lightly graze the steel of his sword. ”But Killing Blade was one of the many Military Selectees of the examination the very same year. His absence, due to his disinterest in claiming the glory of winning the examinations, was the very reason that Fan Changmiao won. Otherwise he would have been devoured by the sheer strength of Killing Blade that year easily, or so they say.”
The Scholar smacked his fan hard against his palm at the epiphany of this truth, ”That must be it!”
”So, it would only be all the more unbearable for Fan Changmiao if the name Killing Blade is continually being lauded with praise and fear. I sincerely doubt that he would simply suffer being scorned in jest as the 'Martial Arts Scholar of Chance'.”
”Be that as it may, this is Wolf King we are debating. The Wolf King who had slain, butchered and murdered with fierce brutality that struck fear throughout the land. Even he perished at the hands of Killing Blade. I am afraid Fan Changmiao would lack the courage to stand openly before him!” exclaimed the swordsman loudly, putting down his sword and emptying his cup in a jubilant gulp.
Their words did not go unnoticed. With great pleasure, Hu Dou had heard every word they uttered. The tale of strife between Su Meng and Fan Changmiao was news indeed to him.
A pageboy entered the saloon suddenly. He quietly made his way through the sea of people and stealthily slipped Zhao Heng a small note.
Zhao Heng stole a look at the contents of the note before grasping it tightly in his fist, reducing it to shredded strips with his powers. He swiftly rose to his feet and made for the exit.
”My, My Lord, wait just a moment,” Hu Dou mumbled hurriedly as he scampered behind.
Zhao Heng stepped out of the store and went through a string of turns and detours before he reached a secluded alleyway.
”Wait here.” Zhao Heng commanded his steward.
”You would imperil your most august person, my Lord,” warned Hu Dou gingerly.
”Are you unaware of my present strength and powers? Would I not be able to fend for myself adequately as you summoned for help?” Zhao Heng gravely remarked.
Knowing full well that his lord has privately trained hard and achieved a long-awaited breakthrough, he heaved a sigh as he relented. ”Do be careful, My Lord,” he warned again.
Zhao Heng continued down the alley into the courtyard of an abandoned residence. There sat a man in green robes, chewing a blade of green grass, unmoved and uninterested in his entry. He leaned lazily on a broken wall, surrounded by clumps of wild grass and other lush vegetation. Scattered shafts of sunlight pierced through the dense leaves of the trees, speckling the ground like gold pieces.
”The world is trembling at the tidings of Wolf King's demise in your hands. Countless excited and curious people are huddled together debating and discussing you and your heroics, praising your greatness and looking to you as their champion. Scores of people including Six Fan School are sweeping through fen and forest for traces of your whereabouts and here you are, resting and lazily enjoying the sunlight,” Zhao Heng nudged in jest. Still, despite his ridicule, he could not help but envy the freedom that his friend was lazing in.
He had traveled long and far. Thirty and ten days had passed since he departed from Northern Zhou and made his journey back to Luoyang. Still dressed in his green robes, Meng Qi came to the great capital.
”That hardly bothers me,” Meng Qi replied lackadaisically, ”There would still be considerations and concerns about the specifics of a task before I decided on disclosing my name, right? Not even the rewards of Six Fan School would persuade me otherwise. Are the others not here yet?”
”In a little while, I belive. Sister Yushu, especially, would require more time. They are hardly free of familial burdens and responsibilities like you, my friend,” replied Zhao Heng.
That would imply that it would still be quite some time before the task commenced.
Meng Qi looked up into the sky above. His eyes squinted at the brightness of the blazing sun as he asked, ”You made a breakthrough?”
Zhao Heng sighed lightly. ”I don't have the ambition of great feats like you and Lady Jiang,” he said, ”I will take the slower course uphill.”
”Well, fret not, my friend. Each of us has our own course and future to follow. Who's to say if you could even defeat me in a duel...” said Meng Qi, laughing lightly.
”Our own course...” Zhao Heng's voice trailed off, suddenly melancholic at Meng Qi's remark. ”I envy you, Little Meng. Weariness sits upon my shoulders with such great weight. The title of the Crown Prince, the hidden and grotesque fight for power in the Imperial Court, the transitional shifts of power... Everything is toilsome and exhausting. How I would have loved to be able to wander freely around the country like you...”
He had long been worried that the forthcoming task in Luoyang foreshadowed woeful premonitions that would not fair well with the various conflicts within the Imperial Court.
”Would you be willing to forfeit your birthright and all its riches? The Imperial Throne that would be graced by the presence of lovely beauties that would obey your every beck and call?” asked Meng Qi, casting him a look. ”Perhaps one day you might be Crown Prince, climbing up the stairway to sovereignty.”
Zhao Heng shook his head. Tugging up his clothes, he sat beside Meng Qi in a crude fashion, ”Only the people of the outside would jealously peer in and envy those such as myself, living within the trappings of grandeur. I would have elected to exchange my life for one such as yours if given such an opportunity. You be the prince, and I will be a carefree wanderer, a swordsman of Jianghu.”
Meng Qi turned to him. His eyes twinkled with elation, ”Really?”
”What?” Zhao Heng spluttered, taken aback by Meng Qi's sudden question.
”Really? Hahaha! I have desired to become a prince! To enjoy the great power of treading the world under my feet, an illustrious life of extravagance and luxury, including a harem of beauties surrounding me day and night!” Meng Qi exclaimed, ardent and passionate. His eyes gleamed with longing. ”I can use the Eight Nine Mysteries technique to disguise myself as you! No one would be able to tell the difference!”
Zhao Heng did not expect Meng Qi to pounce on his proposal of a life of luxury and comfort. Shocked and at loss for words, it took effort to muster the words from his lips, ”I was merely joking.”
”I know. Would you have given up all that power and comfort?” Meng Qi replied, leaning back against the battered wall again as a grim look took him over.
Zhao Heng watched his friend with a heavy heart. ”It is true,” he thought to himself, ”Little Meng's temperament can be quite unpredictably erratic and capricious...”
Still, the banter they had shared earlier had soothed and relieved him of the gloom that anguished lately. Laughing lightly, he shooked his head recalling the absurdity of their chat and rose to his feet. He patted his robes lightly and began to leave.
”How is it? Feeling better now?” Meng Qi's voice came suddenly from behind him.
He was astounded. He turned and look back at his friend who remained seated by the broken wall. The glaring sunlight bathed him in radiance. The foggy illuminance obscured the view of his face. Only the grass he was nibbling and his chin were clearly defined, as well as the bristles of his growing beard.
”You...” Zhao Heng stared at his companion, deeply moved.
Meng Qi's gaze did not leave the branches of the overhanging trees as he said, ”I need help uncovering the whereabouts of two men. Help me when you are feeling better.”
”One of them bears the name Yang Wuliang, a Half-Step from the Exterior Scenery. I believed he now serves Prince Jin.”
It was a task assigned to him by the Immortals. His objective was to avenge the death of Yang Wuliang's father, whose son was one of the probationary members of the secretive fellowship.
”Very well.” Zhao Heng nodded faintly. ”And the other?”
”The name is Gu Changqing...” Meng Qi revealed hesitantly.
Three winters had passed since the day the name had slowly became buried with the passing of time...