Chapter Fifty: Yang Qin

A few days later, Ye Pei and Zi Qingrong appeared in the largest city of the Bandit Domain, Gathering Righteousness City, with new faces and names. From Ni Manxiu, Ye Pei had obtained enough materials to craft masks for the two of them. Now, their appearances were as ordinary as could be. As for names, Ye Pei decided to call himself Pei Ye.

At the time, Zi Qingrong had remarked, “Do you really think those people are fools? Pei Ye is just Ye Pei reversed—it’ll be easy for them to see through it.”

Ye Pei had laughed heartily. “I really don’t think they’re that clever.”

Zi Qingrong rolled her eyes. “So what should I be called?”

Without hesitation, Ye Pei replied, “Rong Qingzi.”

“Come on.” Zi Qingrong’s expression was full of disdain. “Could it be any more obvious? Let’s try…”

Suddenly inspired, Ye Pei smiled and said, “Call yourself Chen Xue.”

Zi Qingrong tried the name a few times, then said, “It does sound nice. How did you come up with it?”

“That’s the name of my divine weapon,” Ye Pei answered.

And so, the young hero Pei Ye and his wife Chen Xue entered the outer district of Gathering Righteousness City, the greatest city in the Bandit Domain.

Ye Pei had given careful thought to their next steps. Zi Qingrong had strongly opposed him going to the Necrofire Volcano, and he himself felt some hesitation toward that rumored place of death. For now, he decided simply to travel the land with Zi Qingrong and make no other plans. As for funds—he had taken plenty from Ni Manxiu.

At the moment, the two sat inconspicuously in a tavern having a meal, when a striking youth of fifteen or sixteen, wearing a bamboo hat, strode in from outside.

Holding his wine bowl, Ye Pei appeared casual as he sized up the youth. As they say:

Sword-like brows drawn as blades,
Starry eyes sharp as a dagger’s edge.
Full of heroic spirit,
Yet distant as a lone peak soaring high.

Ye Pei, in a voice only the two of them could hear, said, “This one is no ordinary person.”

By coincidence, there were no empty seats left in the tavern; the youth glanced around, then walked straight to Ye Pei and Zi Qingrong’s table, clasped his hands in greeting, and said, “Brother, might I trouble you for a seat?”

Ye Pei smiled, pulled Zi Qingrong’s bowl to his side, and, after she moved to sit beside him, returned the courtesy. “Be my guest.”

The youth set aside his hat, sat down, and called to the server, “Two jin of beef, a jar of wine.”

Then he smiled, “My name is Yang Qin, from the Feng clan. And you and your lady…?”

Ye Pei replied, “Pei Ye, my wife Chen Xue, both locals of this domain.”

“A pleasure to meet you.”

Zi Qingrong found the name somewhat familiar, but for the moment couldn’t recall where she had heard it.

In the martial world, there was no need for lengthy conversation. After three bowls of wine, everyone was fast friends.

“So, my good friend, what brings you all the way from the Feng clan to this place?” Ye Pei inquired.

Yang Qin smiled. “To be honest, Brother Pei, I left home to see the world, but ended up offending that demoness Wan Li from the Wan clan. Her people chased me all the way here. I also heard the Feng clan sent people here to look for someone, so I figured I might as well try to find them.”

Zi Qingrong leaned close to Ye Pei and whispered, “Wan Li is Wan Zheng’s younger sister.”

Ye Pei smiled, “You seem quite at ease—have you shaken off your pursuers?”

Yang Qin gave a wry grin, about to reply, when a sudden shout came from the door.

“Yang Qin! You run fast, but the boss still found you. Give up and come quietly!”

Everyone knew, the ones who shouted like that usually didn’t last long…

Yang Qin flicked a dart with a snap of his wrist, and the man fell to the ground.

“As you see, Brother Pei, I haven’t shaken them off.”

Yang Qin was now fighting his pursuers, but the other patrons of the tavern barely reacted, at most taking their food to another table with a shrug. People in the Bandit Domain were used to this sort of thing—even the innkeeper couldn’t be bothered to tell them to take the fight outside.

Zi Qingrong whispered, “Yezi, are you going to help him?”

Ye Pei looked at the scuffle, smiling, “No need.”

Yet, whether by accident or design, a steel blade knocked from someone’s hand spun through the air toward Zi Qingrong.

In a flash, Ye Pei shielded Zi Qingrong with one hand and, with the other, gave the blade a light flick, catching the handle firmly as it fell.

“There’s no need for this.”

Even as he spoke, Ye Pei had already joined the fight.

Since Ye Linhui’s death, Ye Pei noticed he had grown more ruthless in battle. Now, with Zi Qingrong at his side, he consciously tried to restrain his killing intent.

“Are these the only lackeys chasing you?”

It didn’t take long for Ye Pei and Yang Qin to thrash the dozen or so men and return to their meal. As for those left unconscious on the floor, the tavern staff would drag them out in due course.

“That’s not all. They do have experts—otherwise, I wouldn’t still be running.”

“I’d like to see for myself,” Ye Pei remarked idly, with a hint of looking for trouble—after all, there was nothing else to do.

“Why not join forces with me, Brother Pei? Your skills are extraordinary, and with you, I’d feel much safer.”

Ye Pei laughed, “You’re quite the smooth talker. But no, my wife isn’t skilled in martial arts, and I’d worry for her safety.”

Yang Qin looked disappointed, but knew they were only casual acquaintances. That Ye Pei had helped at all was already a favor, so he said, “You’re right, Brother Pei, I hadn’t considered that.”

After the meal, Yang Qin bid farewell and left.

Watching his departing figure, Zi Qingrong suddenly exclaimed, “I just remembered!”

Ye Pei asked, “Remembered what?”

“Yang Qin is Feng Xiaoyang’s cousin.”

“Really? What a coincidence.”

“Yes. When he said his surname was Yang, I didn’t connect it to the Feng family at first, but it just came to me. He’s the son of Feng Se’s elder sister, Feng Chu. His father is Yang Tianrui, reputed to be the number one martial artist in the Flame Lands.”

“Number one?” Ye Pei shook his head. “There’s no such thing as number one—anyone can lose. Still, if he’s got that reputation, he must be formidable.”

By nightfall, the two had settled into a routine—Ye Pei meditating in the sitting room, Zi Qingrong sleeping in the bedroom.

“By the way,” Ye Pei said after dinner, “it might not be a bad idea to accept Yang Qin’s offer.”

“Huh?”

“Most of those chasing him are weaklings. If we disarm them and let them go hungry for a few days, it’d be good practice for you. Besides, befriending an important figure of the Feng clan might lead to unexpected opportunities.”

Zi Qingrong retorted, “They’re all trained fighters. I’ve only been practicing for a few days, and you haven’t taught me any real swordsmanship—just hand-to-hand. Even if they’re starving, I couldn’t beat them.”

Ye Pei laughed, “No matter. I’ll just warn him that if you get hurt, it’s on him. By the way, are the Wan clan really so bold as to hunt Yang Qin so openly?”

Zi Qingrong nodded, “The Wan clan has been in decline in recent years and is trying to curry favor with the Lin clan. The Lin and Feng clans have always been at odds. They’d love nothing more than to catch and kill Yang Qin.”

Ye Pei grimaced, “Troublesome. What about your family—do you have any close allies?”

Zi Qingrong smiled, “We get along with no one. My family is a new clan founded by my great-grandfather. We seized a vast tract of land from the Feng clan, so our relations are worst with them.”

…

Late at night, Ye Pei was roused from his meditation by a commotion outside.

He drew aside the curtains to survey the courtyard, a wry smile in his eyes. “What a coincidence.”

Seeing that Zi Qingrong was still asleep, Ye Pei glanced around, then grabbed a feather duster and leapt from the second-floor window.

For no other reason than that, in the courtyard, Yang Qin was once again embroiled in a fight.

Seeing Ye Pei join in, Yang Qin was overjoyed and shouted, “Brother Pei! The expert is on the north rooftop!”

Yang Qin had learned from Ye Pei’s idle talk earlier that he was eager to test himself against experts, so he pointed out the man.

Ye Pei looked north and saw a black-clad, sword-bearing man standing on the rooftop, his robe fluttering in the night breeze—dashing and elegant.

“Regardless of your skills, your presence is... quite striking.” After the afternoon’s brawl, Ye Pei could tell Yang Qin’s martial arts were decent but not outstanding, so he didn’t take the so-called expert too seriously.

With two swift steps, Ye Pei vaulted onto the roof, feather duster pointed at his opponent. “Draw your sword!”

The man glared at Ye Pei from behind his mask. “Who are you? Name yourself, nobody.”

Ye Pei sighed, hefting the feather duster as he advanced. “Am I being too polite? Some people just don’t know their place.”

The black-clad man, enraged, lunged at Ye Pei without drawing his sword, attacking with hooked hands and claw-like strikes—an unorthodox style that posed Ye Pei a moderate challenge. This continued until Ye Pei kicked the man square in the jaw.

It must be said, Ye Pei’s eclectic learning, while limiting his ultimate mastery, made him adept at adapting to unfamiliar techniques. Within ten moves, Ye Pei found the opening he needed, jabbed the man’s waist hard with the feather duster, and, as his opponent instinctively twisted aside, landed a side kick to the jaw.

…

“My dear brother, after some consideration, my wife and I have decided to travel the martial world with you!”

After the fight, Ye Pei clapped Yang Qin on the shoulder and made his announcement.

Though the black-clad man had drawn his sword in the end, Ye Pei had gleaned the essence of his style from his unarmed attacks, and quickly knocked him off the rooftop. It was then that Ye Pei noted Yang Qin’s inherited brilliance as the son of the Flame Lands’ top martial artist.

As the man plummeted, Ye Pei hadn’t yet pursued, when he heard, “Brother Pei, look out!” and saw several dark darts fly out, striking the black-clad man in the chest and abdomen with deadly accuracy.