Everyone who walked into the inn tonight had bad luck.
Meng Qi was stunned.
He and Mo Li exchanged glances, first lowering their heads in unison to look at the defense map in Meng Qi’s hand, then looking back at each other.
—Although this matter absolutely had nothing to do with Meng Qi, had they just stumbled onto the correct conclusion by accident?
Meng Qi thought about it, and a faint smile that he couldn’t suppress appeared in his eyes.
The defense map was stolen by Mo Li, and Huang Liu was shouting about “Teacher Meng’s people” being here and that “Teacher Meng’s people” had taken the item.
That title was quite amusing, wasn’t it?
“What did you say?”
The voice of the masked leader outside changed pitch in shock.
Meng Qi raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised that this person knew his name.
In fact, before this year, the masked leader had no idea who the National Preceptor of Chu was. After all, he wasn’t from Taijing; who would know about events from the previous dynasty? Even scholars couldn’t always name all fourteen founding ministers of Chu, let alone these military men. However, as the commander of the scouting camp and the general’s trusted confidant, his usual tasks involved not only monitoring the southern border but also keeping an eye on the movements of the Jinyiwei in Jingzhou. Along the way, he used money to bribe some disgruntled Jinyiwei officers to gather information.
The court’s control over the provinces was weak, and they had to rely on the Jinyiwei to carry out missions. There were strategies from both sides; very few people couldn’t be swayed by money. The Qi navy in Jingzhou smuggled goods across the river, so naturally, they had to prevent anyone from reporting this to the court.
This year, the commander of the scouting camp heard an extraordinary name.
Meng Qi.
The former National Preceptor of Chu had suddenly practiced some dark arts and became youthful again.
Of course, the idea of reversing aging was utter nonsense, and it was likely that someone was impersonating him.
Just like the son of the rebel prince from the former Chen dynasty, who kept getting arrested over and over, never completely eradicated, reappearing every decade or so. In the end, the lie got so out of hand that they simply claimed he was the rebel prince’s grandson.
At first, the commander didn’t understand why anyone would impersonate the title of the former National Preceptor. But the Jinyiwei revealed some information: it was said that this Teacher Meng had the true imperial jade seal. That was something remarkable. The commander wondered whether this fake National Preceptor had been fabricated by the Lu royal family of Qi to claim legitimacy, or whether it was the work of the three remaining kings of Chu.
The Jinyiwei officer they bribed hadn’t been promoted in years, so his knowledge was limited.
For instance, he wasn’t aware of the massacre that Meng Qi had once orchestrated, which had left the higher-ups of the Jinyiwei terrified.
But this year’s events were terrifying: first, the imperial tomb incident, then the anomalies in Taijing, followed by the palace coup and usurpation… In all of these major events, the shadow of Teacher Meng seemed to loom. Whether the National Preceptor was real or not, it didn’t matter—he was no ordinary figure.
Now, upon hearing this name out of the blue, the commander was both shocked and doubtful.
“What did you say? Say it again!”
“H-he looked young, but he claimed to be the National Preceptor of the previous dynasty,” Huang Liu stammered, trembling with his head down. “I was too scared to ask more after taking the silver. I really don’t know anything else. There were just some messy lines on top, and I have no idea what they mean.”
The commander squinted and barked, “Lift your head!”
Huang Liu did as told, but his gaze was evasive, and he only focused on clutching his broken leg and moaning in pain.
Anyone could see that this slippery fellow wasn’t being entirely truthful and was likely hiding something. However, regardless, the name of the National Preceptor Meng Qi wasn’t something a mere traveling merchant could know, much less throw around to deceive people in a place like this.
Mo Li was also lost in thought, accidentally missing the detail about “Teacher Meng’s people.”
“Brother Meng… do you think there’s really someone impersonating you, or is Huang Liu just talking nonsense?”
“I can’t say.”
Meng Qi snapped out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even considered the question just now, so he could only give a perfunctory answer.
Mo Li looked up in confusion. He had a hunch, so why did Meng Qi claim not to know?
“Whether this map is real or not is still unknown.” Meng Qi found an excuse and said with a serious tone, “I initially thought this map was most likely drawn by Huang Liu himself. Look at his cautious behavior earlier and how he boasted to the innkeeper. Clearly, he knows that the item in his possession is important and could bring him unexpected wealth. If he was being threatened into doing this, wouldn’t he be worried that he might not live to spend the money afterward?”
“Exactly.” Mo Li had noticed the same detail. “But if the map wasn’t real, Huang Liu wouldn’t have been so certain.”
“What if he got the map from someone he trusted completely?” Meng Qi followed the train of thought and transmitted a message, “If it was just about selling the map for money, things wouldn’t be this complicated. Now even my name is being impersonated, which means the situation might be more dangerous. Did you notice? Even after the map was stolen, Huang Liu wasn’t afraid at all.”
Mo Li nodded for the second time.
The only one truly alarmed and fearful was the commander of the scouting camp.
Traveling merchant Huang Liu acted as if he genuinely believed that an ally had taken the defense map. The only thing he feared was the masked men.
From this small detail, many things became apparent.
First, Huang Liu indeed had accomplices, though their identities were unclear, but the person was clearly skilled in lightness techniques, appearing almost supernatural to common folk. Secondly, the person impersonating Meng Qi might not know that the real Teacher Meng had already arrived in Jingzhou, or else they wouldn’t have acted during these few days—unless their goal was to attract Meng Qi’s attention. Lastly, Huang Liu had little to no rapport with his accomplices, as he didn’t expect them to come and save him. Instead, he was desperately trying to distance himself from them.
The second point essentially ruled out the possibility that Ayanpuka was behind this, especially since Ayanpuka was eager for Meng Qi and Mo Li to head to Feihe Mountain as soon as possible.
“Who could be behind this?”
Was it a general under King Jing? Was it one of the former officials of Chu who aimed to cross the Yangtze River? Or perhaps the Holy Lotus Sect, which thrived on creating chaos?
As Mo Li pondered, the inn fell into complete silence.
Their earlier conversation had been conducted through sound transmission, so those without sufficient internal strength couldn’t hear a word.
The inn was too dilapidated and spacious, with only a small area illuminated by the oil lamps. The rest was large patches of dark shadows and corners where people could easily hide.
Sweat began to bead on the commander’s forehead as he recalled his subordinate who had gone to set fire but never returned, and how the piece of cloth had vanished from his hands…
“Who else is staying in this inn tonight?”
The commander’s eyes reddened as he barked the question at the innkeeper.
Mistress Tao had her right hand behind her back, secretly holding a hidden weapon.
When the masked men earlier attempted to drag everyone out of the inn to chop off their feet, she had been ready to strike. But the situation had changed too quickly, and she hadn’t found the right moment to act.
“Why ask such a thing? What kind of people would stay in this inn?” Mistress Tao forced a mocking smile and said sarcastically, “Just some poor souls who can’t make a living, those risking their lives to cross the river for survival. Would ordinary folks come to a desolate place like this? If you set a fire here, I guarantee there’ll be no one left to collect the bones of the dead.”
The commander knew that the innkeeper was harboring resentment over the orders he had given earlier, but such hatred didn’t bother him in the slightest. It was like kicking a stray dog on the road—the dog’s pain, whimpers, and hatred wouldn’t cross his mind.
If the dog became a nuisance, he’d just kick it again.
“Speak!” The commander’s patience was wearing thin.
“Speak what? You barged in here wanting to kill and maim people. Do you really think you’re some kind of hero?” Mistress Tao roared in anger, then called out, “Xiao Hezi!”
The hulking inn attendant overturned the counter.
The wooden counter in the inn stood as tall as a person, and shorter folks had to step on a stool to peer over it, making it convenient for them to size up guests and their goods. The counter was also bulky, forming a three-sided structure that weighed at least two hundred pounds.
Two masked men had been holding blades to the attendant’s neck, but the sudden overturning of the counter caught them off guard, sending them flying.
They suffered broken bones and tendons, and it was sheer luck they didn’t die on the spot.
The other masked men were both shocked and furious, quickly raising their knives to slash at the attendant.
Yet instead of the expected scene of blood splattering, the sound of metal striking metal rang out, as if the blades had struck armor instead of flesh.
“Iron Shirt technique?”
The commander was taken aback. This was a renowned form of hard external martial arts.
He had subordinates who practiced external martial arts, but without a skilled master and lacking talent, their so-called techniques amounted to little more than the basic skills of third-rate bodyguards or martial artists in the jianghu.
It is said that when the Iron Shirt and Golden Bell techniques are mastered, one can become impervious to blades and spears. However, this is generally considered an exaggeration, much like the claim that mastery of lightness skills allows one to walk on grass or water.
Yet, here in this dilapidated inn, there’s actually someone who has done it.
Though the commander of the scouting camp was shocked, he reacted swiftly.
Where he had been standing was now filled with a small row of throwing darts. Although they appeared dull and unimpressive, Mistress Tao’s right hand was now gloved in a deerskin glove. In such hot weather, wearing gloves to throw projectiles surely meant they were poisoned.
“Retreat!”
The commander made a decisive call. Recovering the map was no longer an option, but something even more crucial was looming over Jingzhou—it was likely that a significant event was about to occur.
Wherever “Teacher Meng” appeared, major incidents followed. He needed to report back to the general immediately.
As for the leak of the naval defense plans, they would have to bolster their defenses to prevent an enemy raid.
“Ridiculous! Coming and going as you please?” Mistress Tao lifted her skirt, placed her right foot on a stool, and tucked the right side of her skirt into her waistband, revealing pink trousers underneath and a half-bulging leather pouch at her waist.
This action, if performed by a woman, was considered highly improper, and in more traditional households, it could even lead to divorce.
But would a woman of the jianghu care about such things? They were already fighting to the death—who had time for old rules?
Mistress Tao kicked over stools to block the masked men’s path while continuously launching hidden weapons with her right hand. Her movements weren’t especially fast, but the hidden weapons were special. The iron lotus seeds opened up mid-flight, releasing fine needles, while the tips of the throwing stars detached, transforming into sub-stars that were nearly impossible to defend against.
For a moment, the inn was filled with flying hidden weapons and the sounds of groaning.
Mistress Tao wasn’t afraid of accidentally hitting anyone else—her attendant was impervious to weapons.
Huang Liu stood dumbfounded, completely unable to comprehend that the usually flirtatious and frivolous innkeeper was actually a martial arts expert. His mind buzzed with tales from storytellers about heroines castrating ruffians who harassed them.
Suddenly, Huang Liu shuddered violently, snapping back to reality. He began dragging his broken leg, desperately crawling toward the corner.
He had to escape.
These people—none of them were ones he could afford to offend.
His will to survive pushed him forward, his face twisted with effort, his hands stretched out as far as they could go.
Mo Li: “…”
Just a few more crawls, and Huang Liu would reach his feet.
Meng Qi watched leisurely, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Huang Liu crawled right into his trap. Then, seeing Huang Liu’s eyes suddenly widen in terror, Meng Qi clapped his hands and laughed, saying, “You had countless paths to life, yet you chose none of them. And here you are, barging into the gates of hell! How amusing! Truly amusing!”
His voice rang out, clear and loud, and everyone fighting in the inn heard it distinctly.
But neither side was willing to stop their fight, and no one could spare a moment to see what was happening.
“Wh-who are you?” Huang Liu’s voice trembled. He was on the verge of cursing out loud. He had known these two old men were trouble, and now they were here to make things worse.
“Me?”
Meng Qi raised his head with a smile, placing his right hand behind his back, and said slowly, “Why, you just mentioned my name earlier!”
Author’s Note:
Fat Mouse raised his head, stroking his whiskers: “Is my name really that useful?”
