Chapter Fifty-Three: Chen Mo

Upon hearing Ye Pei admit his identity, Chen Jiren and Cheng Fang were both stunned. This youth had recently become a sensation throughout the Land of Yan; though most people had never actually seen him, his deeds had spread far and wide. In the great battle at Wangyan, he had slain the brothers Lin Yufei and Lin Yukong. To avenge his father, he had been willing to risk everything, even plunging into the Land of Yan just to kill Lin Yufei. More than a dozen other generals had also perished by his hand, and warrants for Ye Pei’s capture were plastered everywhere in Yan.

Although he bore no direct blood feud with the Wan or Feng families, he was the only one from the Wang lineage unfortunate enough to fall into the Land of Yan. Who else would they hunt, if not him?

“But…” Cheng Fang interjected doubtfully, “during the fight just now, I clearly saw a flash of fire in your eyes.”

Ye Pei replied, “I’m afraid I can’t explain the reason for that, but I am indeed Ye Pei—there is no mistake.”

He paused, then smiled gently, “Besides, at a time like this, anyone pretending to be me would have to be a fool.”

Cheng Fang sighed, “A young hero indeed. It seems we were the ones who were rude. Our humble establishment can hardly accommodate a figure like yourself.”

Ye Pei merely smiled at his words, saying nothing. What Cheng Fang said was true: perhaps he truly admired Ye Pei’s actions, but more importantly, the blood feud hanging over Ye Pei was not something they could afford to get involved with. To bring Ye Pei to their side would only invite endless trouble.

“However… we can’t simply let this matter rest,” Cheng Fang continued.

Chen Jiren slammed the table, “Exactly! My son returns tomorrow. Let’s wipe them all out at once!”

Cheng Fang stroked his beard. “The city lord is right. If we can keep all of them here in Gathering Righteousness City, perhaps no one else will dare trouble us on our own turf. With the young master returning tomorrow, we have at least an eighty percent chance of success!”

Ye Pei nodded, “Indeed, once they’re dead, I’ll leave Gathering Righteousness City. If others come asking, you can simply deny everything—say that it was all my doing. I don’t mind having a few more lives on my hands.”

Cheng Fang asked, “Young Master Ye, do you know where they’re staying?”

Ye Pei answered, “I don’t yet, but during our fight earlier, I sprinkled my unique scent powder on that man. If I get close to him, I’ll pick up the scent, and combined with his build, it won’t be hard to find them.”

“Excellent.”

With that, Ye Pei took his leave and hurried back to the inn.

“Oh no, I forgot—Qingrong is still locked in the wardrobe…”

…

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Zi Qingrong’s face was flushed. “I was roasting in there!”

Ye Pei scratched his head sheepishly. “Uh… whatever you say goes…”

Zi Qingrong’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “How about this: teach me swordsmanship!”

At this, Ye Pei refused firmly, “No way! Learning martial arts must be a gradual process. Your basic skills are not yet up to par, so I can’t teach you swordsmanship.”

“Hey!” Zi Qingrong stomped her foot in frustration. “You just said I could decide!”

Ye Pei winced, hesitated for a moment, then his eyes lit up. “How about I give you this instead!”

Zi Qingrong was instantly curious, half expecting some family heirloom or precious artifact. But then…

“Ha! This is it!” Ye Pei drew a book from his robes: The Manual.

“I…” Zi Qingrong was at a loss for words.

Seeing her lack of excitement, Ye Pei blinked and said, “What’s wrong…? This is my treasure…”

Zi Qingrong took a deep breath. “Keep it yourself! I don’t want it—I can’t understand it!”

In the end, she accepted the book anyway—partly because Ye Pei insisted he had nothing else to give, and partly because he claimed it would greatly help her martial training.

As for Ye Pei, he had already committed The Manual to memory and no longer needed to read it.

The next morning, someone knocked at the door.

Ye Pei opened it to find a cultured young man holding a folding fan.

“If the ruler is well, the youth’s journey is not in vain.
A chest of a million soldiers—such a man is surely peerless.”

“Young Master Ye, I am…”

But before the youth could finish, Ye Pei’s nostrils twitched, and he raised a hand. “Wait.”

The youth paused, watching as Ye Pei stepped out to the second-floor railing, sniffing the air carefully, then called down with a smile to the courtyard.

“Good morning, Brother Yun.”

Yun Jian, practicing martial arts below, paused and looked up with a smile, “I heard you were attacked last night, Brother Pei. Seeing you now, I suppose the assailant got nothing for his trouble.”

“Haha, that’s right.”

Ye Pei then led the young man into his room and shut the door. “I am Ye Pei. And you are?”

The young man cupped his hands. “I am Chen Mo, the city lord’s nephew. I’ve come to invite you to the city lord’s residence.”

Ye Pei considered, then replied, “Please tell the city lord I will come at midnight.”

Chen Mo recalled Ye Pei’s earlier gesture and smiled. “Very well. My martial skills are decent—please, Brother Ye, help me make a show of being driven out.”

Ye Pei paused for a second, secretly admiring his cleverness, and agreed.

There was a crash as the door flew open and Chen Mo tumbled out into the courtyard, coughing up blood.

Ye Pei stormed out after him, face full of anger. “Let me say this again—I did not try to assassinate your advisor. Don’t think your young master’s return will do you any good. Tell Chen Jiren: you couldn’t stop me last night, and having more help won’t change that!”

Chen Mo, lying on the ground, spat out another mouthful of blood, struggled to his feet, and replied with a trembling but fierce salute, “I will remember your words, Young Master Pei!”

He staggered off toward the city lord’s residence. Watching from the second floor, Ye Pei was somewhat taken aback. “Didn’t he say his martial skills were decent? How did one kick make him spit blood—did he come prepared with a blood pouch?”

He gathered himself, nodded at Yun Jian, and returned to his room. Yun Jian, seeing this, secretly rejoiced, thinking their failed assassination at least made the city lord’s residence highly suspicious of Ye Pei.

Before dusk, Ye Pei urged Zi Qingrong to go to sleep.

“What? It’s so early.”

Ye Pei avoided her gaze. “Early to bed, early to rise—it’s good for your health…”

Zi Qingrong side-eyed him. “You never made me do that before. When we were in the mountains, you even made me travel at night.”

Ye Pei’s lips moved, and after a few seconds, he came up with what he thought was an irrefutable reason.

“Well… to practice that Manual, you have to ensure enough sleep.”

Zi Qingrong rolled her eyes. “I haven’t even started. Besides, you meditate every day and never sleep—why lecture me about rest?”

Ye Pei inwardly roared, “Didn’t Old Meng say girls were easy to coax? Where’s the easy part?”

In the end, with Ye Pei’s relentless urging, Zi Qingrong went to bed just after nightfall.

Her last words were:

“Can’t you just tell me the real reason?”

Ye Pei pushed her into the room and replied, “Go to sleep—you’ll know soon enough.”

…

“That scoundrel…”

At midnight, the well-mannered Zi Qingrong, locked in the wardrobe, finally cursed out loud.

“Young Master Ye, please come in!”

Ye Pei had arrived punctually at the city lord’s residence.

“No need for formalities, Advisor. How is Chen Mo?”

“Thanks to your mercy… I’m still alive…” A sturdy youth helped Chen Mo out from an inner room, the latter’s face still pale.

Ye Pei scratched his nose. “You said your martial skills were decent… I only used half my strength.”

“Don’t worry about injuring me,” Chen Mo said, taking a seat, “at least I have a pretty clear sense of your combat ability now. If that kick was half your strength, then you and my elder brother are probably evenly matched. Our odds for this operation have improved.”

At Cheng Fang’s invitation, everyone sat. Ye Pei said, “You misunderstood—I said I used half my strength, but that’s not half my total ability. At most, it was thirty percent.”

The sturdy youth who’d helped Chen Mo asked, “You mean… you have internal energy?”

Ye Pei looked at him. “I do. And you are?”

The youth cupped his hands. “I forgot to introduce myself: I am Chen Xin, son of Chen Jiren, the elder brother Chen Mo spoke of. He is my cousin.”

Ye Pei nodded, and the group began discussing how to retaliate against their enemies.

Ye Pei started, “When Chen Mo came to find me today, I smelled my scent powder on Yun Jian, who’s staying at my inn. He’s a friend of Yang Qin’s, and now I’m starting to suspect his intentions. But I can’t be certain yet.”

After Ye Pei finished recounting his encounter with Yang Qin, Chen Mo thought for a moment and said, “It’s hard to say whether Yang Qin befriended you with another purpose. If his words and the pursuit were all staged to get close to you, it seems a waste to sacrifice such a skilled fighter for a ruse. If Yang Qin really is being hunted by the Wan family, then staging a fight in front of you is risky—if you hadn’t helped, he’d have been captured. All this assumes they didn’t know who you were at the time, so it wouldn’t be worth such a risk.”

He paused and continued, “There’s another possibility: Yun Jian and the others were hiding nearby from the start, to ensure Yang Qin’s safety. If you hadn’t helped, they would have intervened. So Yang Qin’s true allegiance is still unclear. He’s from the Feng family—should we kill him during the operation, just in case?”

Ye Pei shook his head. “Better not. Yun Jian and the others probably aren’t from any of the great families. Most likely, they’re mercenaries. The two assassins who fought me last night didn’t use any family style—they’d obviously developed their swordplay through experience. If Yang Qin isn’t here to harm me, then he might still be useful.”

Chen Mo fell silent in thought. Ye Pei turned to Cheng Fang and Chen Xin. “What do you two think?” Today, Chen Jiren, perhaps thinking himself lacking in strategy and too old to fight, had not attended.

Cheng Fang smiled, “Young Master Ye, this is for Young Master Chen Mo to decide. My own wits are nothing compared to his.”

Chen Xin added, “I’m just a warrior—no strategist. Among us, only my second brother can devise a plan.”

Chen Mo, who had been thinking with eyes closed, opened them and smiled. “Elder brother, you’re mistaken. If I’m not wrong, Young Master Ye is a rare talent, both learned and skilled in arms.”

From their brief conversation earlier, Chen Mo had discerned that Ye Pei was far more than just a fighter.

Ye Pei waved his hand. “I’m not actually that skilled in such matters. But do you have a plan?”

Chen Mo smiled, “I have the outline of one. Let’s work together to refine it.”