Chapter Fifty-Six: When the Snipe and the Clam Struggle, the Fisherman Profits—A Clash of Blades and Swords

Sea Beast Chen Si furrowed his brow slightly, his tone calm. “Brother Wu, I respect you as a senior in our path and would never make things difficult for you. Are you still trying to stall for time?”

“Is the Dragon King really aboard the Shaliao Tower ship? Where did you hear this?” Zhou Qian retorted.

“What do you mean by that?” Chen Si asked, his brow knotting.

“Nothing much,” Zhou Qian replied with meaningful emphasis. “I’m just afraid you, respected elder, might be used by some cunning villains.”

The four pirates of the sea were all startled. Chen Si’s gaze stopped A Rui, who was about to protest, and replied impassively, “Brother from the Central Plains, the few of us act under our lord’s orders to intercept Wang Zhi midway. We trust the friend who leaked this information. What would be the point of stalling for time? Besides, with the vast river, aside from the Shaliao Tower vessel, who could possibly escape the centipede ships' pursuit?”

“And if the West Sea Dragon King hadn’t come in person, who else could have mustered so many martial artists to guard him? Are you all here just to admire the moon on the river?” Chen Si mocked.

Zhou Qian felt rage boil within him—this old trick of snatching the wolf with empty hands had landed on him. The informant certainly knew that his master and Wang Zhi had reached an agreement, then used that to drag King Jinghai, Wang Zhi’s old adversary, into the fray. Upon hearing Wang Zhi was entering the Central Plains alone, King Jinghai would surely send men to surround him, creating this stalemate. Yet Zhou Qian was left with questions: first, Chen Si was so sure Wang Zhi was on the ship—what ‘evidence’ had the informant provided? Second, how could these pirates so precisely track the Shaliao Tower ship’s route and timing? There must be an insider aboard. Who was it? Five people knew the route: his master, himself, Tang Sect’s Master Wei, Beggars’ Sect Leader Tu Yong, and Shaoshi Mountain’s Master Pudu.

His master could be ruled out—he was after the possible secret of immortality in the Qin Emperor’s tomb, and by nature wouldn’t betray his disciple. Tu Yong was his uncle, leader of the Beggars’ Sect, broad-minded and heroic; Zhou Qian’s disciple Wang Hu was on board as well, so Tu Yong was unlikely. Master Pudu was pure-hearted and desireless, also improbable. That left Tang Sect’s Master Wei—the most ambitious and skilled, whose sect had hit a bottleneck in recent years, lagging behind the Beggars’ Sect and Shaoshi Mountain in lineage and connections. Master Wei’s motives were understandable: his master had planned this for years, inviting Tu Yong and Pudu to join, and only after hearing rumors did Master Wei volunteer himself. If this operation caused heavy losses among martial artists, it would severely damage the prestige of the three, and their network of friends would suffer, not to mention the tangled ties of sects and families. Some might not dare act openly, but would curse and resent in secret—if Tang Sect called upon them then…

Zhou Qian felt a chill run through him. He was no longer a naive newcomer—he knew the perils of the martial world intimately. Though his lineage was respected, it lacked connections; if he lost the moral high ground, he and his master might survive, but their close friends—Sister Zhao, Brother Hu, Old Hei—would suffer. The martial world never spares one’s loved ones. His expression darkened, a fierce glint in his eye: “Tang Sect, King Jinghai—”

“Chen Si, believe it or not! Our lord is still in the lair of the evil dragon, not aboard. We sailed to fulfill an agreement with the Sword Immortal of a Hundred Arms, who once saved our lord’s life. With our lord’s cautious nature, would he ever venture out on a single ship? You four have dealt with our fleet for years—haven’t you learned anything?” Wu Zhang shouted.

Chen Si’s eyes flickered with suspicion, then returned to normal. “To be frank, our lord King Jinghai received word from the court, and has a reliable informant among you martial artists of the Central Plains. Only after confirmation did we dare to draw blades. A few words from you won’t make us hold back.”

“With so many casualties among our men, the arrow has already been drawn and cannot be undone!” Chen Si finally tore away the mask, killing intent surging.

Zhou Qian and his companions felt their hearts sink. A battle was inevitable. Only scattered martial artists remained on the deck, suppressed by the centipede ship pirates. Their own pirates were few, those left on deck already hacked to pieces, with only a handful resisting from the cabins or ship’s tower. In another moment, even the helmsmen would be gone. “We must finish this quickly!”

Zhou Qian whispered a few words in Wu Zhang’s ear. Wu Zhang was startled, then wondered if Zhou Qian had trained himself foolish with swordplay.

“Are you sure about this, Young Hero Zhou?” Wu Zhang hesitated.

“Do you have a better plan, Brother Wu? Do we have time?” Zhou Qian shrugged helplessly.

Wu Zhang paused, understanding the deeper meaning, and gave Zhou Qian a deep look. “Take care, Young Hero Zhou. We leave it to you!”

Zhou Qian smiled meaningfully, turned his back to Wu Zhang, and strode gravely toward the four pirates, thinking, “Looks like Wu Zhang isn’t the traitor, or he would have seized this chance. So who is it? Could it really be Tang Sect’s Master? If so, leaving Tang Sect’s Deputy Master and Golden Fire Avalokiteśvara aboard is very telling…”

“In the end, this martial world is decided by blade and sword!” Zhou Qian thought grimly.

“I am considered somewhat skilled among the younger generation in the Central Plains. I’ve long heard that the Four Sea Pirates are the strongest under King Jinghai. May I test your skills and see whether Central Plains martial arts or coastal swordplay prevails?” Zhou Qian spoke with calm confidence, though his pride was unmistakable.

“Oh?” Chen Si was intrigued. “Young brother, are you seeking a duel with me…”

“You misunderstand. I mean all of you at once.”

“Arrogant!” “This brat courts death!”

His words incited the fury of the Four Sea Pirates—Sea Beast Chen Si, Marauder A Rui, Venom Sword Xia Ziyi, and the most mysterious Sorcerer—all felt a surge of anger at this audacious youth. Zhou Qian’s reputation had reached the western coast, but not enough to impress them. First, he’d only been active for three years, a true junior, his martial prowess only dominant among his peers. Three years versus thirty years—the perils, assassinations, and life-and-death struggles were incomparable. Secondly, after only three years of training, how skilled could he really be? Even if his sect poured countless rare medicines into him and taught him hand-to-hand, how much real combat experience could he have? Such untempered swordsmanship must have flaws.

Thus, the four considered Zhou Qian to be capable but conceited.

“Very well! I accept!” Wu Zhang suddenly declared.

“Big brother, are you mad?” A Rui exclaimed. Four against one, and a martial novice—wouldn’t that ruin their reputation?

“Haha, if Young Brother Zhou fears nothing, why should we? He’s a disciple of the Sword Immortal of a Hundred Arms, surely a rare genius. If it were one-on-one, I might not be his match!” Sea Beast Chen Si laughed heartily. Was this his true thought? Of course not. The martial artists on Shaliao Tower were already surrounded by his elite pirates, who relied on their fearless brutality and years of battle-hardened teamwork. If these martial experts adapted and found loopholes, the situation would change—Chen Si hated variables. Moreover, the strongest martial artists were still fighting aboard, and if they returned, that would be another variable. The longer the battle, the more unpredictable it became.

Chen Si’s thinking was simple: currently, only Wu Zhang and Zhou Qian could challenge him, and even if the four pirates held the advantage, they might not seize victory in a sea battle, which was not a mere duel. But if Zhou Qian faced all four, they could swiftly eliminate him, then surround Wu Zhang, and with these two gone, no one aboard could restrain the pirates. The Four Sea Pirates could then slaughter King Jinghai’s men, helmsmen, gunners, oarsmen—all the martial skill in the world wouldn’t help if no one could sail, and no one could leap to shore from mid-river. Swords and blades couldn’t cut cannonballs or iron shot. They’d be trapped and doomed.

Yet Chen Si still felt uneasy—this challenge from Zhou Qian seemed too perfectly timed, as if tailored for him, leaving no choice but to accept. Was Zhou Qian truly arrogant, or was this an open tactic, forcing his hand? What cards did Zhou Qian hold?

Whatever the case, in this world, strength still reigns. Chen Si thought, even if the opponent had a hundred schemes, he would break them with a single punch.

“Big brother, be careful!” The knife-wielder, pale-faced, said to Xia Ziyi—his own younger brother.

Xia Ziyi’s gaze swept over his brother’s pale arm, his eyes fierce and his sinister face even more terrifying. “Ziqi, your hand—I will avenge you!”

The knife-wielder nodded, trusting in Xia Ziyi’s Venom Sword and the combined might of the Four Sea Pirates. There was no one in the world who could withstand them—yet a thread of unease still lingered in his heart…