Chapter Twenty-Six: The Capital of Luo

Five days later, on the outskirts of Qiantang, the grass lush and green, Ma Cai of the Embroidered Uniform Guard bowed to Zhou Xun by the carriage and said, “Lord Zhou, the remnants of the Red Lotus Sect have been escorted to the prison in Chang’an. If there’s nothing else, I should return to the capital to report. For the latest chapter of Perfect World, go to Ganggang’s.”

Zhou Xun nodded. “Thank you, Lord Ma, for your trouble.”

Ma San, seeking to lighten the mood, remarked, “A blessing in disguise, it seems your disciple is getting along quite well with the Prime Minister’s son!”

“Those who walk outside the mundane world should drift like idle clouds and wild cranes. Whether it’s a blessing or a curse to mingle with the powerful is hard to say,” Zhou Xun replied, shaking his head.

Stepping forward, Ma Cai lowered his voice. “And what of that matter?”

“The Astronomical Bureau’s predictions were indeed accurate. The court must prepare in advance.”

Ma San drew a sharp breath and quickly said, “When the time comes, we’ll need you to rally the heroes of the southern martial world.”

“If it benefits the nation and the people, I shall not shirk my duty,” Zhou Xun answered firmly.

Ma San was delighted. “On behalf of His Majesty and the people of the Central Plains, I thank you in advance, Lord Zhou!”

Nearby, Tan Hou’er, his right hand wrapped in willow wood, a blade of foxtail grass in his mouth, grumbled, “What are your master and that guard whispering about?”

“No idea,” Zhou Qian shook his head.

“Well, it’s time for farewells. I should go visit my old father, the Prime Minister. Maybe I can get some rare herbs to heal my fractured hand,” Tan Hou’er said with a crooked grin.

A subtle sadness hung between the three. Wang Wei, eyes reddened, stamped her foot and deliberately said, “You men have nothing much to say, not as much as a young girl like me! If there’s nothing else, we’ll meet again on the road someday!”

“Haha! Lady Wang speaks well! Let us drink! Until we meet again in the martial world!” Tan Hou’er laughed heartily.

The three raised their cups—clinked them together—and drained them in one gulp.

“Brother Monkey, I want to ask you something,” Zhou Qian called suddenly to Tan Hou’er, who was already mounted.

“Oh? What is it?” Tan Hou’er turned to look.

“How did you know Commander Ma would definitely come? If he hadn’t, wouldn’t the plan have been useless?”

Tan Hou’er winked. “Because your Monkey Brother has keen eyes that see through all worldly feelings, ha! I’ll tell you more next time! By the way, I think Lady Wang’s gaze at you is much like Lady Liu’s gaze at Ma San!” With a crack of the whip, he sped off, his laughter fading into the distance.

“You damned monkey, talking nonsense!” Wang Wei scolded with a pout.

She glanced at Zhou Qian—sword brows, bright eyes, red lips, white teeth, but most of all, a gaze as clear as a mountain spring. For some reason, her cheeks flushed as she said coolly, “Don’t you dare get any funny ideas about your Sister Weiwei!”

“Yes, Sister Weiwei,” Zhou Qian scratched his head.

Yet Wang Wei couldn’t help but laugh, her smile blooming like a flower. “You brat! Be sure to visit your Sister Weiwei at Wang Fort!”

“I will.”

“You’re still too young! Grow a few more years,” she said, cheeks still rosy, before winking and riding toward her family’s caravan.

“Third Brother’s grown up!” Wang Hu remarked from the carriage window as he watched them part.

“But that girl he knows is really something! These days, it’s the pretty young lads who are most popular,” Second Brother Li muttered.

As the carriage rolled westward, Zhou Qian’s curiosity stirred about how these two had met his master that fateful night. It turned out that, after they split up, they blundered into the Red Lotus Sect in the front courtyard, were mistaken for Zhou Qian and Tan Hou’er, and, with pursuers close behind, the cultists dressed them in their clothes to throw off their pursuers, then tied them up in a cellar. But Second Master Li, recalling that the ox sinew binding them was specially treated—impervious to blades and arrows, but vulnerable to water and fire—hit on a plan. Water would make it swell, fire would make it break. He told Wang Hu to bite off his own pants and use urine to soak the cords. Wang Hu refused, so Li offered to do it himself, joking that Wang Hu had better not accuse him of impropriety. In the end, Wang Hu, a proud man, couldn’t bring himself to do it, so Second Brother shamelessly exposed his own white backside and squirmed about. They escaped, and soon after, Zhou Xun arrived, cutting a bloody path.

“You two were really lucky!” Zhou Qian sighed. Even with the help of clever, strong Tan Hou’er, he’d barely survived, yet these two, with lesser skills, had somehow stayed safer. Life was unpredictable.

“Master, are ghosts and demons real?” Zhou Qian asked suddenly.

“Stories of monsters in the wild are unlikely, but not unheard of. As for ghosts and spirits, they’re just tales—no one’s ever seen one,” Zhou Xun replied, unconvinced.

But Zhou Qian thought, I’ve seen one! Yet the matter was too strange to speak of; if not for the icy black pearl in his hand, left by the ghostly woman, he’d have thought it a dream.

The official road was made of fired red clay, paved with stone, mixed with glutinous rice and sugar water—smooth and firm, so the carriage sped along without a bump. Vendors hawked their wares, travelers bustled about, and every few miles a village or fortress appeared, smoke rising from kitchens—a lively, prosperous scene.

Three days later, the four reached the outskirts of Luodu. Towering, thick city walls loomed ahead, bristling with crossbows, cannons, arrow towers, battlements; within and without, there were barbicans, sub-walls, and a high drawbridge. The sheer scale of it awed Zhou Qian.

“Luodu sits by four rivers—Luoshui to the left, Sihe to the right, with easy water transport. Behind lie Suzhou and Hangzhou, ahead the six lakes and six cities, and all around a thousand miles of fertile land. It’s a land of plenty, as splendid as brocade. I hear that forty years ago, the barbarians burned it for three days and nights, yet it’s already revived!” a northern merchant marveled.

“You must not be local! Luodu is far more prosperous than even Chang’an—the flower boats on Qinhuai, the snacks on Scholar’s Street, the imperial gardens—these are Luodu’s three wonders. If you have time, you must see them. I guarantee you won’t regret it!” boasted a local.

“Don’t tease me! Who doesn’t know the three wonders of Luodu? But I’ve brought several carts of furs from the north, hoping for a good price. If I set foot in Flower Street, I’ll leave empty-handed! That place is a den of temptation. If I go, my wife will have my head!” the fur merchant replied with a wry smile.

The crowd laughed, though one grumbled, “The only problem with Luodu is that, whenever the city gates open, the queue stretches from east to west—dozens of miles!”

“Isn’t that the truth! Only Jubaomen, Dongyi, and Tian’e gates open daily. The other thirteen never open except for major events. It’s enough to drive one mad!”

“I heard,” someone whispered conspiratorially—though loud enough for everyone nearby—“that this morning, the Heavenly Gate opened for a carriage. You can’t imagine who arrived!”

“Oh? Who?” the crowd pressed.

“Luodu’s Prefect Fei Wuji, Prince Li Sansi of Changshui, the eldest son of former Chancellor Wu Shen—Wu Yue. Aren’t these all big names?”

The crowd gasped. “Could it be the Emperor himself, traveling in disguise?”

“No, they say the Hundred-Armed Sword Immortal, Old Immortal Zhou, has returned. Now, is that significant or not?”

A martial artist in traveling attire frowned. “The old master’s swordplay is uncanny, but it shouldn’t warrant such a welcome. For the great to lower themselves, they must have a reason. What could it be?”

“Master, is that chubby uncle really the Emperor’s brother? He doesn’t look it at all,” Zhou Qian puzzled, tilting his head, unable to imagine such a powerful prince as a cheerful, plump man.

Zhou Xun laughed, ruffling Zhou Qian’s hair. “That fat man is formidable. Don’t underestimate him. The Fire-and-Water Qilin Jade Pendant he gave you clears the mind and revives the spirit. Wear it often.”

“I think he’s a good man—better than the other two, who are all talk and stingy besides!” Li Sanshan chimed in cheerfully, fingering his new short sword, sharp enough to slice iron like mud. Wang Hu had received inner armor woven of fire-silkworm thread.

“Watch your tongue! Fei Wuji is an honest official; Wu Yue, like his stubborn father, hates evil. Men like that don’t just hand out treasures like yours!” Zhou Xun scolded, half in jest.

“Master, when the great give gifts, it’s always for a reason. What do they want from you?” Zhou Qian mused aloud.

Zhou Xun paused, then smiled with satisfaction. He said nothing, gazing out the window for a long moment before finally remarking, “We’re home.”