It was a dark and windy night. In a certain manor within Yunan City, two figures were locked in a fierce struggle, neither side gaining the upper hand for the moment.
“Your Yunming Sword Sect skills are still not quite there, Junior Brother.”
As soon as the words were spoken, a flash of blade and sword followed. A figure dressed in black moved with sharp, swift steps, closing in with a sword held tight.
An Shanmu brandished his own sword—the tip of which had just been snapped off—and blocked the incoming assault.
Though his words were provocative, any observer could see he was becoming increasingly strained. It would only be a matter of time before he was defeated.
“Spare me the provocations. Take this!”
The black-clothed swordsman thrust his blade again, but An Shanmu seized the opportunity to kick him away, putting some distance between them.
“Haha, your sword techniques have truly become formidable, Junior Brother. It’s just a pity your stamina hasn’t improved much.”
An Shanmu clutched his arm where the black-clothed swordsman had slashed him, looking a bit disheveled.
However, seeing that the swordsman was also using this brief window to adjust his breathing, he couldn’t help but sneer.
“But why can’t you understand, Junior Brother? Joining the imperial court is the only right path for those in the Jianghu!”
“Bullshit! You talk a big game, but those are just excuses for your surrender to the imperial court!”
The swordsman cursed loudly, using the gap to reset his stance. He gripped his hilt tightly, ready to charge An Shanmu once more.
An Shanmu was forced to fend off the next wave of attacks, though he seemed slightly more composed than before—at least enough to continue bickering.
“That matter was the sect being unrighteous first. Who else can be blamed? Rather than handing it over to others, it was better that I used it for myself.”
“Look at this official uniform. This is the true destination for people like us in the Jianghu!”
“Too much talk!”
His inability to break through An Shanmu’s defense for so long made the swordsman anxious. The pressure of time passing forced his thrusts to become even faster.
“Junior Brother, with your experience traveling the world for so long, you should know that the Jin people beyond the border are raiding more frequently. Those martial arts sects are causing chaos across the country just for the sake of minor grudges.”
Sensing the swordsman’s desperation, An Shanmu’s tone softened, losing the mocking edge it had at the beginning.
“There should be someone to stand as a middleman between the martial world and the imperial court to unite both sides.”
Hearing this, the black-clothed swordsman tightened his grip on his sword and questioned him through gritted teeth.
“Bah! You certainly have a way with words. If it’s truly as you say, why are the various sects being suppressed in secret? You claim we must unite to resist the Jin, yet you’re cutting off our own limbs. What kind of ‘unity’ is that?”
“Forget it, stop wasting your breath. I’m tired of listening!”
With that, the black-clothed swordsman stopped holding back. He immediately took a stance, preparing to use his ultimate technique, Floating Light and Passing Shadows, to end the battle before An Shanmu’s guards could arrive.
“Heh, it seems we really have nothing left to discuss,” An Shanmu said, no longer speaking to the assassin poised to strike. He took a deep breath and shouted.
“Guards! Get out here at once!”
His heaven-shaking voice was like a tiger’s roar, piercing through the roof tiles. It caused the black-clothed swordsman to cough up a mouthful of blood, his stance for the sword technique collapsing.
“Cough… the Qingcheng Sect’s Dragon Roar Technique! When did you learn that?!”
The swordsman’s eyes widened as he stared at An Shanmu, unable to believe he had learned a technique outside of their own sect’s foundation.
Even if he forced his internal energy to kill this traitor now, he wouldn’t be able to escape death once his physical strength was depleted. But if he fled, this golden opportunity would slip through his fingers…
‘What a loss! I should have learned that Peerless Martial Art I found before coming here…’
While the swordsman was wallowing in secret regret, the sound of rhythmic footsteps approached.
His already grim expression turned even worse.
“The tables have turned, Junior Brother.”
An Shanmu gradually relaxed as the guards arrived. He looked down at the pale swordsman with a calm yet playful tone.
“Do you wish to drop your sword and be bound, keeping your worthless life to crawl another day, or do you wish to fight to the death and fall here?”
Murderous intent surged in the swordsman’s chest. He was on the verge of circulating his internal energy to fight to the bitter end, but the well-equipped guards with their long spears had already surrounded them.
‘Tsk, I finally found an opening. Is it all going to end in failure now…?’
“Hmph! Do whatever you want with me. I don’t want to hear another word from you,” the swordsman said resentfully.
“Haha, you’re wrong, Junior Brother. This is for the sake of the country. How can it be nonsense?”
An Shanmu gestured for the guards to pin the swordsman with their spears. He stepped closer, pinching the swordsman’s chin with a cold laugh.
“However, whether it’s a private grudge or for the greater good, assassinating an official of the imperial court always comes with a price.”
“Hmph! Since you’ve betrayed the sect, don’t call me your brother.”
The black-clothed swordsman coldly shook off An Shanmu’s hand and tried to thrust his sword, but the spears behind him suddenly pressed harder, forcing his blade to stop mid-air.
An Shanmu wasn’t annoyed. He waved his hand, ordering an attendant who had arrived with the guards to bring him a set of new clothes. As he dressed, he looked down at the man and sneered.
“Hero Liu has a point. However, you’d better weigh your current situation before you speak again.”
“Cut the crap! What do you want?”
An Shanmu’s gaze swept over the swordsman. He had eyebrows as dark as ink that slanted toward his temples.
Beneath them was a pair of bright, star-like eyes flashing with a cold light. Below his high-bridged nose were tightly pursed, thin lips.
What an extraordinarily handsome swordsman!
An Shanmu stroked the stubble on his chin. His mouth curled into a lopsided, malicious grin as he narrowed his eyes.
“Liu Yao, how do you think I should ‘instruct’ you with my Twelve Swords of Sunny Spring?”
The black-clothed swordsman—or rather, Liu Yao—turned pale, as if he had thought of something filthy. His eyes were filled with undisguised repulsion and loathing as he cursed sharply.
“Bah! You disgusting pig!”
“Hahaha, thank you for the compliment, Junior Brother.”
With that, An Shanmu’s wicked hands slowly reached toward Liu Yao…
“Stop! Stop right there!”
In the noisy tea house, a sudden female voice clearly pierced through the thick, heavy clamor. The voice was clear and melodious, with a hint of delicate youthfulness, like an oriole singing on a branch.
In an instant, the waiter, the storyteller, and the customers all froze. Several patrons who were drinking tea while listening to the story instinctively turned toward the source of the voice.
At a tea table by the edge of the second-floor balcony, a young girl stood leaning against the railing. Her hair was styled in elegant clouds, and her pink cheeks were flushed with anger.
Her delicate and cute face carried a hint of bashful rage. She leaned over the railing and pointed at the storyteller, shouting loudly.
“Stop talking nonsense!”
“Young Hero Liu clearly defeated that villain and then left while wounded. How could he possibly be… be…”
Liu Yao’s voice grew smaller toward the end, as if she found it difficult to say. Unable to squeeze out the next sentence, she shook her head and glared fiercely at the storyteller.
“Anyway, there’s no way it happened the way you said!”
“How can you make up such vulgar things? Aren’t you afraid Young Hero Liu will come looking for trouble?”
Hearing her words, the customers and the storyteller looked at each other. A moment later, the floor erupted into bursts of laughter.
Liu Yao watched the scene, suddenly feeling confused.
‘Wait, what are they laughing at?? Is what I said that funny?!’
The girl’s blushing face spoke louder than a thousand words.
At this time, the storyteller sitting behind his desk stood up, cupped his hands, and looked up at Liu Yao on the second floor with a smile.
“You’re joking, young lady. Setting aside whether Hero Liu would seek revenge, these short introductory segments are just meant to warm up the crowd. Naturally, they aren’t meant to be taken as truth.”
The storyteller looked at the surrounding patrons, and his voice unconsciously grew a bit louder.
“Besides, in the Jianghu, rumors of An Shanmu of the Twelve Swords of Sunny Spring having a ‘preference for men’ haven’t been around for just a day or two.”
“Since no news has been heard of Hero Liu for several months after that assassination attempt, it’s inevitable that people will let their imaginations run wild.”
“Isn’t there a saying? Adaptation isn’t fabrication, and dramatization isn’t lying! How can a storyteller’s work be called ‘making things up’?”
‘Make up your head! You’re damn well slandering people!’
‘I’m just laying low to avoid the heat. How was I supposed to know there were smutty rumors like this everywhere?!’
Liu Yao felt humiliated and angry, but in the end, it was An Shanmu’s own bad reputation that had dragged her down.
‘I can’t exactly vent my anger on ordinary people, can I?’
“That hateful An Shanmu… once I master my divine art, I’m going to whip your corpse! Three times! A full three times!”
The girl’s anger somehow shifted toward An Shanmu. She grumbled to herself, her little face puffed up round and adorable.
Below, the customers were discussing animatedly.
“Exactly. Besides, if no one tells stories, what are we supposed to eat?”
“Yeah, what are we supposed to eat?”
“Sigh, you know, all this fighting and killing is so unpleasant. If everyone just gave a little love, the world would be such a beautiful place.”
“Hey, when did you become so cultured?”
The storyteller looked at the guests who were now in a heated discussion and then looked up at the young girl on the second floor who was still sulking. He wore a slightly helpless smile.
“Moreover, what can we storytellers hope for? It’s nothing more than adding a bit of fun to the ordinary days of daily life. If you truly dislike it, young lady, I simply won’t speak of it.”
‘Hmph, at least you know your place!’
Liu Yao had been quite angry, but after hearing the storyteller’s words, her anger dissipated without her realizing it.
‘Whatever. Once I master my divine art, I’ll see who dares to spread rumors about me then!’
With that thought, Liu Yao rubbed her forehead and waved her hand, her cute face full of helplessness toward her current situation.
“Forget it. Waiter, the bill!”
It was a midsummer afternoon. For Xiang’an town, located in the southern part of the Great Song, it was the time when the sun was at its fiercest.
Liu Yao didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she sat in her original spot, thinking about how to make her exit.
The slanted sunlight fell upon her like a painting, giving off a sense of peaceful, quiet years.
‘Thinking about it, I’m still so annoyed. Putting me together with that scruffy old man…’
Although she said she would let it go, Liu Yao was still somewhat bothered by the spread of such rumors.
‘At least pair me with a gentle and lovely young lady from a good family or something, right?’
‘Do I look like the type to look for men?!’
Liu Yao rested her chin in her hand and began to let her thoughts wander.
At that moment, a very clear youth’s voice rang out from the first-floor entrance, reaching Liu Yao’s ears with perfect clarity.
A surge of heat rose from her heart, dyeing her entire face a deep crimson.
“Old Liu! Are you about to tell that story again? You know, the Twelve Chapters of An Shanmu and Liu Yao’s Field Battle?”
Before the storyteller, Old Liu, could even respond, a sudden flash of light streaked past.
Two sounds rang out almost simultaneously. One was the dull thud of a teapot filled with hot tea smashing into the back of the young man’s head.
The other was a crisp but clearly infuriated female voice.
“What the f— are you saying!!!”
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