Dragon King With Seven StarsChapter 1 - The Death of a Multi-Millionaire

DRAGON KING WITH SEVEN STARS

C1 - The Death of a Multi-Millionaire

Previous

Chapter 1 - The Death of a Multi-Millionaire

Part 1

April 15. Clear Skies. [1]

The day started like every other day. When Sun Jicheng got out of bed, his clothing was already prepared by Liu Jin’niang, a former Imperial maid responsible for dressing the Emperor, and the sixteen young women she oversaw. [2, 3] In the hall outside his bedroom, he drank some Oolong tea from the Wuyi Mountains in Fujian, and then got into his special carriage and began his inspection tour of the 79 businesses he owned in Jinan city. [4, 5]

He was not the type of person who conformed to the normal patterns of everyday life. For example, he would often stay out drinking with clients all night. And yet, he would never let this interfere with his daily inspection. In fact, the route upon which he traveled would never change.

Starting businesses wasn’t easy, and maintaining them successfully was even harder. Anyone who wanted to achieve such success must pay a price.

Sun Jicheng understood that.

He loved his businesses in much the same way that a beautiful woman loves her good looks.

He would often tell his friends, “Wealth might not make you happy, but it’s a lot better than being poor.”

Sun Jicheng was about six feet tall. Stalwart and dashing, he knew how to enjoy himself, much unlike the other wealthy and powerful merchants who were his peers.

All the years of delicious food and drink had caused his belly to slowly protrude, but thanks to carefully tailored clothing, he looked much younger than his actual age. He could still race horses, drink liquor, and satisfy the most difficult to satisfy woman.

He would never forget to remind others about this, and they would never forget this fact.

Of course, a person like this had no death wish.

So every day when he left home, various experts from famous bodyguard agencies would accompany him. One of them was Qiu Budao, also called “As Stable as Mount Tai,” who in past years had successfully accomplished 91 bodyguard missions with no losses.

Sun Jicheng’s carriage was specially manufactured, impervious to blades and arrows. The horses came from the stables of the “General Who Attacks the West,” every one exceedingly fine, with unmatchable stamina and speed, capable of running over 400 miles in one day without stopping. [6, 7]

His enormous mansion was similarly protected. Day and night, multiple shifts of guards watched over everything, each one a top-notch expert.

To send someone like Sun Jicheng to the grave could not be considered a simple matter.

No one would try to do such a thing. No one would dare take the risk.

Who could ever imagine that he would die!

Part 2

Barring unforeseen circumstances, Sun Jicheng would usually eat lunch at at the Great Three Yuan restaurant.

Perhaps because he worried about his growing belly, or because of constant drinking, he would usually eat or drink nothing else during the day other than his Oolong tea. So of course he was very picky about his lunch.

There were many reasons why he chose to eat at Great Three Yuan.

It was one of the 79 businesses he owned.

Its head chef was a celebrity, specially hired from South China [8]. His “Marinated Shark’s Fin” and “Grilled Shark’s Fin” both were secret family recipes, handed down through the generations, and as luck would have it, Sun Jicheng’s favorite dish was Shark’s Fin.

The manager of Great Three Yuan, Zheng Nanyuan, was not only picky about food, but when it came to wit and conversational ability, he was just the type of person Sun Jicheng liked.

The most important thing was that Great Three Yuan was a very successful business with many customers. Sun Jicheng liked to look at people, and he liked people to look at him.

***

Today was a day like any other. Big Boss Sun ate lunch at Great Three Yuan, drank a little alcohol.

Usually he would drink Chu Ye Ching, Maotai, Daqu, Nu’er Hong, Mei Kuei Lu, and sometimes even Barley wine or Gucheng liquor shipped from distant regions. [9]

Today, he drank something even more difficult to acquire: Persian Red Wine.

Great Three Yuan was the last stop on his inspection tour. Upon finishing his meal, he would go home. He would return to his room, which others rarely visited, take a nap, then once again resume his unique living routine.

— Being rich really was much more enjoyable than being poor.

***

Sun Jicheng was richer than almost anyone in the world, and happier too.

No one had any way to kill him, nor any reason to.

How could he possibly die?

Part 3

Sun Jicheng truly understood how to enjoy himself, and wanted everything to be very exquisite, including his clothing, his food, his residence and his business.

So of course, his bedroom was comfortable and resplendent.

Anyone with a brain could imagine that, but few could imagine what exactly his room was like. This was because few people had ever entered his room.

His room was a place for rest and sleep.

When it came time for rest and sleep, he never wanted women. And when it came time for women, he never wanted rest and sleep.

— A “wife” and a “woman” are different.

A “wife” is not merely a “woman,” but someone with whom to share trials and tribulation, bitterness and sweetness, a support, a comfort, a partner, and a friend during times of loneliness, pain, disappointment and old age.

Sun Jicheng had no wife, and neither did he have friends.

Strictly speaking, the friends he had were not truly his friends.

— It is lonely at the top; if a person manages to reach the pinnacle of something, that person will often find themselves quite lonely.

***

As usual, it was about dusk when Sun Jicheng returned to that room so rarely seen by anyone else, but if seen, became the source of amazement, praise and envy.

Usually, when he returned, he would take a short nap. But this time, he made an exception. From a secret compartment located next to his bed he pulled out a necklace crafted from Persian platinum, embedded with emeralds.

Outside the bedroom was a resplendent reception hall. On the walls hung paintings by Wu Daozi and calligraphy by Wang Xizhi [10, 11], and placed on a shelf was a vase carved from pure white jade. Facing the door was a reception armchair said to have been used by the emperor himself in the Imperial palace.

As soon as he sat down, a musical clinking could be heard coming from outside. The person he was waiting to see had arrived.

It was Liu Jin’niang.

Liu Jiniang was a beautiful, gentle, mature and paid close attention to detail. Her skills in tailoring were unparalleled. She’d entered the Imperial Palace at the age of 11 and returned to at the age of 21 to manage Sun Jicheng’s clothing, footgear and headgear. No one in the world was more familiar with his physique and body structure.

That of course is a requirement for anyone tasked with creating a comfortable set of clothing.

To truly, completely understand the body of a man is not easy, and she had used the most direct and effective method.

She was a beautiful woman, healthy and strong. The spring wind that night had blown oh so gently.

But from that night on, she never brought up the incident ever again. It seemed he, too, had forgotten. The two of them maintained a very professional working relationship.

Long ago in the deep recesses of the Imperial palace, she had learned to live in loneliness.

**

The setting sun shone in through the window. Sun Jicheng looked at her cold, beautiful face, and let out a soft sigh.

“It’s been ten years,” he said with a sigh. “It’s ten years, correct?”

“Just about.”

Liu Jin’niang’s face appeared completely cold and emotionless. A woman of her upbringing would surely never allow emotions to show.

And yet, she felt a stab of pain in her heart. She knew exactly how many days had passed since that spring night. She would forever remember, completely clearly. It was ten years, one month and three days.

“Have you been happy throughout these years?”

“I would say neither happy nor unhappy,” she said coolly. “Now that I think about it, the ten years seem to have passed in the blink of an eye.”

So many frigid winter nights spent alone, so many lonely spring evenings, could they really pass in the blink of an eye?

Sun Jicheng sighed again, then suddenly stood up and walked over to her.

“I know I’ve let you down,” he said. He lifted up the necklace. “This is a little something from me. Would you allow me to put it on you?”

Liu Jin’niang nodded her head silently. And yet, as soon as Sun Jicheng reached her and placed the necklace around her neck, she suddenly wanted to weep.

Could it be that after ten years of indifference, he had suddenly recalled that one night of passion and tenderness?

Just as the tears began to pour down her face, he suddenly tightened his grip, using the beautiful necklace to send her to her death.

She did not die in suffering, because she truly did not believe that he would treat her with such vicious treachery.

No one could possibly figure out why he killed her, because, truthfully, he had no reason to.

***

The beautiful necklace hung from the beautiful neck. And yet, the beauty had long since passed.

The setting sun slowly began to fade, replaced gradually by evening gloom.

Sun Jicheng, steady and cool-headed as usual, slowly pushed open the rear window and vanished into the night like a wisp of smoke, disappearing into the darkness in the twinkling of an eye.

Part 4

The dark of evening approached. Qiu Budao still lay on his bed. Last night, he had been on duty for the graveyard shift and hadn't been able to go to sleep until morning. When on duty, he gave it his all, just as he did when working bodyguard missions. Even though he knew nothing untoward would happen, he still refused to display the slightest negligence or complacency.

It had taken much blood and sweat to earn the moniker “As Stable as Mount Tai,” but it would take only one moment of negligence to lose it.

After experiencing countless risks to life and limb, he truly had achieved the “stability.” No matter what type of arrow or sword were ****** toward him, he would not become flustered. Even if his whole family’s fate rested on the roll of a die, he wouldn’t bat an eye if the roll turned out to be a one.

But recently, he often felt tired. In actuality, a 55-year-old man shouldn’t be doing this type of work. Sadly, a force existed behind him which lashed him forward like a donkey chained to a millstone.

It seemed the wheel of life gradually was crushing his robust frame into a bloody slab of meat.

He sighed to himself, preparing to get out of bed and light the lamp on the table. He never imagined that just as he began to walk forward, a hand would suddenly tap his shoulder from behind. His entire body instantly turned ice-cold.

Somehow, someone had entered his room without him being aware of it and then sneaked up on him. This should be fundamentally impossible.

Cold sweat broke out all over his body.

The hand neither took advantage of the situation to strike at his jugular, nor did it stab further into his shoulder. Instead, a mild voice spoke: “There’s no need to light the lamp. I can see you, just as you can see me.”

Qiu Budao recognized the voice.

The monstrous demon behind him was none other than his employer, Big Boss Sun Jicheng.

**

Sun Jicheng removed his hand, allowing Qiu Budao to turn around.

In the darkness of twilight, Qiu Budao’s face was a pale white as paper, but his expression calm and collected. He had been through countless battles, and every time he bounced back from an unfavorable situation was by relying on “stability.”

Sun Jicheng's eyes shone with admiration, but the warmth turned to coldness in a flash.

Not allowing Qiu Budao to even open his mouth, he asked a very strange question, one word at a time: “When did you find out?”

“Find out what?” he replied, confused. The question was so sudden, he didn’t know how to answer.

Sun Jicheng laughed. But the laughter did not touch his eyes. He looked at Qiu Budao for a while, and then one word at a time said: “My secret.”

“Your secret? What secret?”

“Since you already know, do I really need to say?”

Qiu Budao said nothing.

He could see that the person standing in front of him was not someone who could be fooled easily. Trying to put on a front would do no good.

“When did you find out?” he suddenly replied. “When did you realize I’d uncovered your secret?”

This question was also a reply of sorts.

Sun Jicheng laughed again.

“You’ve always been a poor gambler, always losing horribly. And yet, during the past two months you’ve slowly been repaying your debts. Who is helping you to pay off your creditors?”

Qiu Budao refused to answer, and Sun Jicheng didn’t press him further. Instead, he continued, “Of the 72 guards in the three squads you command, 13 have been replaced in the last two months. Every three to five days, you switch someone out. When on duty, you place them as far away from me as possible.” He smiled. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I didn’t think so.”

At that moment, just before Sun Jicheng opened his mouth to reply, Qiu Budao’s hand shot out like a thunderbolt.

**

Qiu Budao usually trained with a broadsword, and trained quite well. No one could call his technique anything but first-rate.

And yet he rarely used a broadsword.

His fists could be considered deadly weapons, even more powerful and fearsome than his broadsword.

He had always believed that if you use a weapon, there will eventually be a time when that weapon is not at hand. When his second uncle “Invincible Double Whips” Qiu Sheng’s trademark double whips had been stolen, he had subsequently died a bitter death in battle.

Fists could never be stolen. So from childhood he had trained in fist techniques. And even though it had entailed countless hardships and tribulations, he had trained under the banner of the Shaolin Temple.

Everyone acknowledged that Shaolin’s “Dragon Subduing, Tiger Vanquishing Lohan Divine Fist” was an unrivaled fist.

His fist technique was fierce and potent, incredibly swift and strong. Especially the first form.

End things with one stance, a fatal fist. When experts fight, victory and defeat are usually decided in one stance.

He had always reckoned the first stance to be the most crucial, and this viewpoint was beyond doubt correct.

As his fist shot out, although he couldn’t be completely certain it would strike his opponent, he believed that he would at least be able to open an opportunity to make an escape. Forty years of bitter, year-round training and three hundred blood-soaked battles gave him supreme confidence in his sense of judgement.

Sadly, this time he’d erred.

***

Even as his fist shot out with a power like lightning, he saw a blur, and the opponent he wished to devastate with his strike, was gone.

And in that exact moment, he felt his wrist being restrained. All the power in his body suddenly dissipated and his wrist was twisted around behind his back. He had no strength to resist.

Qiu Budao was petrified.

His iron fists, which had smashed the noses and ribs and even souls of countless Shaolin Temple experts, had been restrained in the duration of one stance. Forty years of fist training seemed like child’s play to this person.

Sweat poured down the shocked face of “As Stable as Mount Tai” Qiu Budao. He had never dreamed that a multi-millionaire playboy would be so fearsome, and would possess such demonic kung fu.

Sun Jicheng sighed. “I made a mistake,” he said. “This time it’s my mistake.”

The one who made a mistake was Qiu Budao, wasn’t it? Not him.

Qiu Budao couldn’t help but ask, “You made a mistake? What mistake?”

“You have no way to know.”

“Know what?”

“You don’t know my secret,” he said coldly. “And you don’t know who I am. I challenge you to make even one more move against me.”

“Who are you?” said Unstoppable Qiu hoarsely. “Just who are you?”

Sun Jicheng didn’t respond. Instead, he asked, “If you don’t actually know who I am, why would you betray me?”

Most people would not be willing to answer such a question. But Qiu Budao was an exception, because even more so than Sun Jicheng, he wanted to know the truth of things.

—Who was this mysterious and fearsome multi-millionaire? What was his secret?

The only way to find out the truth behind others’ secrets, is to first be honest—everyone in Jianghu understood this truth.

“Although I never believed that you built your own fortune from scratch, I never even imagined that you would be a consummate expert of the martial world. And even more unbelievable was that you are a retired master thief.”

“Why so unbelievable?”

“Because you don’t look it,” replied Qiu Budao. “You’re too ostentatious. You give off no hint that you want to hide from people.”

He continued, “In the past twenty years or so, there have only been a view thieves who have amassed great fortunes and then disappeared. Among them, only four have yet to be caught. And yet, you could not be one of those four. As far as your age, appearance and stature, you don’t match any of their descriptions.”

Sun Jicheng smiled. “As of now you can surely see that my martial arts far exceed yours.”

Qiu Budao conceded this point. Then he said, “Three months ago some people asked me about you! They wanted to know every last detail about your actions and movements!”

“Who are these people?”

“I met them at the gambling hall. They are neither young nor old, and as for their identity, it’s complicated.”

“You don’t know who they are, do you?”

“I don’t.” He thought for a moment, then continued, “They are big spenders, and it seems that they possess some good kung fu, even though they try to hide it. I’ve never heard of anyone with their names in Jianghu before, nor seen anyone like them.” His voice seemed to be filled with a strange dread. “They suddenly appeared, as if they’d arrived from a strange place that no one has ever been to.”

Sun Jicheng’s smile had disappeared; his pupils constricted. He knew that this time, he was dealing with a group of extremely mysterious, extremely fearsome opponents.

“My only hobby in life is gambling,” said Qiu Budao. “I gamble hard and I lose all the time. They didn’t require much of me. Just for me to allow them to place some people in my three squads. So…”

“So you agreed.”

“Yes,” he said. “I agreed. I don’t like being in debt, and they were the only ones who could help me get out.” With effort, he turned his head and stared at Sun Jicheng. “I’m telling the truth.”

“I believe you.”

“Do you know who they are?”

“I don’t.”

“Do they know who you are?”

Sun Jicheng was silent.

Qiu Budao yet again asked, “Just who are you?”

Sun Jicheng stood there silently in the thick, dark night. And then suddenly he laughed.

“I am who I am!” he said with a strange, mysterious smile. “I’m just a person who will die soon. Very soon.”

***

Why would someone like this have to die? How could he die?

Qiu Budao didn’t ask any more questions.

“Come with me,” said Sun Jicheng. “I’m going to take you somewhere.”

“To do what?”

“To see someone.”

“Who?”

“Someone you never imagined you would see. Even when you see him with your own eyes, you still might not believe it.”

Part 5

Who was this person? Why would someone not believe it even if they saw him with their own eyes? Was it a person who shouldn’t be alive? A person who shouldn’t exist?

Qiu Budao couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Nor could he wrap his mind around any of the things that would happen in the following hour.

It turned out Sun Jicheng led him back to that room of his, the one that no one ever entered.

Gentle and quiet Liu Jin’niang, who had never argued with a single soul, lay there, still dead.

Surprisingly, underneath the beautifully decorated bed were two secret cellars.

One of the cellar rooms was filled with books and the smell of alcohol and food. And a person.

A person Qiu Budao never imagined that he would see. Even though he looked upon this person with his own eyes, he almost didn’t believe.

Because this person was Sun Jicheng. A second Sun Jicheng.

Part 6

Qiu Budao sat down on a bamboo chair in the corner of the cellar, as if he were worried he might collapse.

This person could not be Sun Jicheng. Two Qiu Budaos could not exist in the world, and neither could two Sun Jichengs.

It couldn’t be his brother.

Sun Jicheng had no brothers, and even twins could not look this alike.

The two of them looked exactly the same in every way. Figure, facial features, attire, manner. All the same. When Sun Jicheng stood directly in front of this person, it seemed as if he were standing in front of a mirror.

Who was he? What was his relationship to Sun Jicheng? Why would Sun Jicheng keep him hidden in this place? And why would he bring Qiu Budao here to see him?

Qiu Budao just could not figure it out.

Sun Jicheng seemed to be enjoying the expression on his face. He looked thoroughly pleased.

Finally he could show someone.

With a smile, he said, “I knew the first time you saw him you would be startled out of your skin. The first time I saw him, so was I.”

He smiled joyfully.

“At that time, we didn’t look exactly alike. If we stood next to each other, you could still tell the difference between us. But with the help of some strange and ingenious techniques, the situation changed quite a bit.”

He added, “To achieve true perfection, there were a few areas that required special attention.”

Qiu Budao waited for him to continue.

“For example, there isn’t much room for him to move about. When not laying in bed, he will sit and read. In such circumstances, it’s hard to avoid growing a bit of a belly.” He slapped his own belly. “So I had to grow a bit of a belly too.”

“What else?”

“If someone gets no sunlight for years at a time, his skin will become pale and strange looking. So, every day I take him up to my bedroom window to get some sun.”

“So that’s why you never let anyone into your bedroom.” Qiu Budao’s palms continued to sweat.

He now understood everything that had happened up to now.

A horrific conspiracy perfectly planned out by Sun Jicheng was now in motion, and no one in the world could stop it.

Sun Jicheng turned and clapped the person on the shoulder. “Your complexion has been good the past few days. You’ve been sleeping well.”

His “shadow” responded in a meek and feeble voice: “Yes. I’ve slept quite well the past few days.”

Qiu Budao suddenly called out, “No, there’s something wrong.”

“Oh?”

“His voice is completely different than yours.”

Sun Jicheng laughed. “His voice doesn’t need to be the same,” he said casually.

Qiu Budao didn’t bother to ask “why.” He’d spoken up just now only to verify a horrible notion.

After verifying it, his heart sank.

Unfortunately, Sun Jicheng had used some strange technique to seal some of his acupuncture points and drain all of the energy from of his body.

Sun Jicheng seemed to be completely at ease. He suddenly started chatting randomly with his “shadow.” When I first saw you, your complexion was not good at all, as if you hadn’t slept in a very long time.”

“Yes, at that time I hadn’t eaten for three days and nights, and hadn’t even had a chance to close my eyes.”

“Why was that?”

“Because I’d just experienced something tragic beyond compare.” His voice suddenly became very meek and quiet. “My parents, wife, and children were all ruthlessly slaughtered by a great villain.”

“Why didn’t you try to avenge them?”

“Because I am weak, I would never in my life even be able to dream of hurting a hair on that monster’s head.”

“So you wanted to die?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t die, because you saved me. You killed the villain and helped me get my revenge.”

“Did I ask for compensation?”

“No,” said the “shadow.” “You just had one requirement: that I wait until the time came for you to die, and then I would give you back the life that I owed you.” He stared at Sun Jicheng, and with an indescribably calm bearing asked, “That time has arrived, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

The time had arrived. His life would end soon.

The “shadow” had been expecting this end for some time. Qiu Budao had also figured out what was happening.

—Of course Sun Jicheng hadn’t built up a business from scratch into a fortune. And he actually was not rich businessman, picky about food, in love with doing business.

—He was someone entirely different, a person who for some reason, because he needed to keep his true identity hidden, had brought his ill-gotten hundreds of millions along with hands reeking of blood here, to hide from his foes.

—But he knew that the net of heaven is wide, and none can escape its mesh. [12] His secret would get out eventually, and so he’d already prepared someone to die in his place.

—This person looked exactly like him in every way. Only his voice was different.

—Because by the time others found him, he would be dead, and dead men cannot speak.

***

He did not die in pain, because Sun Jicheng struck him with a mortal fist blow. A fist blow swift, accurate and vicious.

Qiu Budao’s face sank.

Sun Jicheng suddenly asked him, “Did you see which type of fist technique I just used?”

Of course he did. It was exactly the same fist technique that he had just used, that famous consummate skill which he had spent forty bitter years practicing, the Shaolin Lohan Fist.

“Well,” asked Sun Jicheng, “what did you think of it?”

Qiu Budao couldn’t speak, not even a single syllable.

He had trained in this fist technique for forty years, and yet the blow Sun Jicheng had just delivered in terms of energy, skill and efficacy, exceeded his own.

What could he say?

“A fatal blow,” said Sun Jincheng, “inuring the heart directly. That is definitely the killing method that ‘As Stable as Mount Tai’ Qiu Budao would use. So this Sun Jicheng clearly died by your hand, and had nothing to do with anyone else. Everyone will be able to see that clearly.”

He washed his hands in a silver basin and then dried them with a snow-white cloth. He suddenly sighed. “Although, they might wonder what motive you had to kill Liu Jin’niang.”

“Liu Jin’niang?” cried Qiu Budao. “I killed her too?”

“Absolutely,” said Sun Jicheng, sounding surprised. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the necklace used to strangle her. Who’s necklace was it again?”

Qiu Budao was seized with terror.

Because of everything that had happened, his mind was in chaos. Up to now, he hadn’t been able to see everything clearly. The necklace with the emerald pendants was actually his, something left behind by his deceased wife. He’d kept it for so long, not willing to part with it even during his worst episodes of gambling loss.

He didn’t look at it often, because the memories it dredged up were sweet, yet too sorrowful. He didn’t even want to touch it.

“How did you get that?”

“I have my ways.” Sun Jicheng smiled. “At least a hundred of them, actually.”

Anyone would have to concede that a person like Sun Jicheng would have ways to get just about anything he wanted.

“Why is it me who killed them?”

“You have your reasons.”

Sun Jicheng continued, “There are probably at least a hundred reasons why a man might kill a woman and another man. Even if you can’t think of one, others will come up with their own ideas for you.”

He laughed. “They will probably all come up with unique ideas. If you ask 50 people, they will probably come up with 100 different versions. Thankfully, whatever ideas they have don’t really affect you.

Qiu Budao stared at him for a long time, and then, one word at a time, said, “I understand what you mean.”

“You should,” said Sun Jincheng. “Sun Jicheng is already dead, as is Liu Jin’niang. You don’t have much longer to live, either.” Coolly, he continued, “I guarantee that others will figure out a reason for your death. So I’ve already prepared a glass of poisoned alcohol for you.”

Part 7

So now, Sun Jicheng was dead.

No one imagined that he would die, but he truly had died.

On the evening of April 15th he, along with his most trusted bodyguard squad leader Qiu Budao and his tender, secret lover Liu Jin’niang, all died together in a secret cellar.

Of course, there were many rumors regarding their deaths. But regardless of what they said, it didn’t affect Sun Jicheng

Because now, Sun Jicheng was dead.

***

Late in the night on April 15th, he left behind the city of Jinan as well his successful businesses and his hundreds of millions in wealth. Like a man discarding a mistress he’d grown tired of, he seemed to carry with him no nostalgia or tenderness.

***

When a multi-millionaire dies like this, is it possible for him to be resurrected?

**

[1] Considering the story takes place in Ancient China, the months listed in the book would assumably be based on the Lunar calendar not the Gregorian calendar, but for sake of simplicity I will use the Gregorian calendar names.

[2] Sun Jicheng’s Chinese name is 孙济城 sūn jì chéng.

[3] Liu Jinniang’s Chinese name is 柳金娘 liǔ jīn niáng.

[4] The tea from Wuyi mountains is relatively famous. I remember hearing about this when I used to live in Chinatown. http://tinyurl.com/24ebrvu

[5] Jinan is the capital of Shandong province. It is a coastal city that has been an administrative and economic center for thousands of years. http://tinyurl.com/pf2akvf

[6] “General Who Attacks the West” is actually one of the ranks achieved by historical General Huang Zhong, who worked for Liu Bei during the Three Kingdoms Period. However, based on later information in the story, it would seem the story doesn't take place during that time period. http://tinyurl.com/ygg3s8t

[7] What I’m translating as “over 400 miles” is written as 1,300 li in the original Chinese. http://tinyurl.com/pqwadtf

[8] What I’m translating as South China is literally referring to an area of South China covering Jiangxi, Hunan, Guangdong, Guangxi, and Hainan as well as modern northern Vietnam. http://tinyurl.com/no7apxt

[9] These are all different types of alcohol, some of them very famous. Chu Ye Qing is a type of fenjiu or perhaps made from bamboo. I couldn’t find any articles about it. http://tinyurl.com/pbntk64. Maotai is probably the most famous baijiu in China. http://tinyurl.com/5l5z2e. Daqu is another type of baijiu http://tinyurl.com/ouasl23. Nu’er Hong is a type of baijiu, and if I remember correctly was mentioned in 7 Killers. http://tinyurl.com/ol8xjfv. Mei Kuei Lu is a type of rose-flavored baijiu http://tinyurl.com/mbyrfy9. The other two I was unable to find what exactly they are. Maybe Gu Long made them up, or maybe they are rare or obscure?

[10] Wu Daozi was a famous artist who lived during the Tang dynasty. http://tinyurl.com/kt7ylsc

[11] Wang Xizhi is one of the most famous calligraphers of all time. He lived during the Jin dynasty. http://tinyurl.com/3fvxyd8

[12] Yes this is the same quote from 7 Killers.

Dragon King With Seven StarsChapter 2 - Ingot

DRAGON KING WITH SEVEN STARS

C2 - Ingot

Chapter 2 - Ingot

Part 1

April Sixteen. Clear Skies.

The day started like any other day, the air clear and dry. Travelers streamed to and fro along the main road leading out of Jinan City.

But for some people, although the day started like any other day, the end of the day would be completely different.

Another way to put it would be to say that some people might look ordinary on the outside, but are actually anything but.

Wu Tao was one such person.

***

Wu Tao, an ordinary person, a businessman, appeared to be quite honest, yet wasn’t the slightest bit stupid.

Neither fat nor skinny, neither handsome nor ugly, he wore a set of clothing which, though not crafted from the finest material, appeared to be very durable. Covered with dust from time spent traveling, he rode a mule that seemed to be as hard working as himself. Not young, he looked like the kind of person who had some savings somewhere. He just wanted to provide for his wife and children, and maybe make his own life a bit more comfortable when he grew old.

Who knows how many people like this exist in the world. The only difference between him and them is that before sunset on April 15th, no one had ever seen him.

No one had ever seen him before, not even a single person.

***

You could even say—

This ordinary businessman Wu Tao didn’t appear in the world until after the death of the multi-millionaire Sun Jicheng.

Hadn’t appeared at all.

Part 2

Outside of big cities are small towns, and small towns always have inns.

Liu Village outside of Jinan City had inns, and that was where Wu Tao was staying. [1] He’d arrived late in the night on April 15th.

At that time, the moon had already began to set, and the inn’s main gate had been closed. He’d called out for quite some time before they opened it.

He chose an inn in this village because at that hour, the city gates of Jinan Prefecture were all closed. As a traveler from another part of China, no matter how much you called out, they wouldn’t be opened. So he had no choice but to stay at an inn.

—But was he really traveling from another part of China to Jinan Prefecture? Or was he actually leaving Jinan?

Thankfully, the innkeeper and staff had no interest in asking such questions, neither did they notice whether his appearance on the second day was the same as his appearance upon his arrival.

The clerk who had woken up in the middle of the night to receive him hadn’t paid the slightest attention to what he looked like.

Similarly, no one paid any attention at all to what he did in his room that night.

***

The 16th was market day in Liu Village; early in the morning people flocked from everywhere to participate, bringing along their chickens, ducks, pigs, sheep, fruit, vegetables, seafood, flowers, rice, flour, and grain to barter for makeup materials, silk cloth, embroidery or pieces of silver to take back to their happy families.

Of course, pickpockets and beggars wouldn’t miss this chance to take advantage of all the commotion.

By the time the inn opened its main gate, the square and main street across from it was packed with people of all sorts. There were even two Jianghu theatrical troupes performing, so the village bustled even more than usual.

Wu Tao couldn’t help but go out to soak in the excitement.

And then he noticed something quite amazing. It seemed the beggars here were extremely organized; the quietly collected their gains into a specific area. If people didn’t give them anything, they didn’t ask for anything. If people gave a lot, they likewise did not call out, not even to say “thank you.”

In every group, an older beggar with a burlap sack on his back sat in the rear, dividing up their spoils evenly amongst the other members.

Who would have imagined that beggars would have such systemized rules. Everyone found it quite interesting.

But one of the beggars, a fellow with rather large eyes, didn’t seem to understand the rules.

This young man had a round face, and when he smiled, two dimples appeared. Whenever he caught someone’s attention he would smile and stretch out his hands. Perhaps because of his charming appearance, or perhaps because of his ability to judge people’s characters, when he stretched out his hands, they rarely came back empty.

And so he collected more and more money, all of which went into his own bag.

When his bag filled up, he began wandering amidst the crowd, and at one point he smacked into Wu Tao and sent him tumbling.

Wu Tao didn’t give him a single copper coin.

He wasn’t the type to give out charity. His money had been painstakingly earned, much more painstakingly than any money this beggar ever earned.

He knew that the young beggar had bumped into him on purpose. But he was more slippery than a loach [2], and immediately after hitting Wu Tao, he ran off, disappearing without a trace in a matter of seconds.

Wu Tao didn’t pursue him.

He also wasn’t the type of person to look for trouble or get angry about trifles. And yet, after getting smacked into, his excitement regarding the market disappeared.

He returned to the inn, mounted his mule, and headed straight for Jinan.

***

He really did head straight for Jinan.

Regardless of where he came from, this was a fact, and no lie. By noon, he had already arrived.

Part 3

Gongs and drums clanged and clashed in the marketplace. A young girl, seventeen or eighteen years old, her hair combed into two braids, was performing a tumbling act. Her legs, long, straight, and strong, seemed to be ready at any moment to burst out of the trousers she wore, which were sewn together from multiple pieces of colorful cotton cloth.

This area of the market was much more lively than others, with many people gathering to watch the scene.

The young beggar slipped like a loach through the crowd, then squatted down, panting.

He knew that the stingy old man with the gray, pointed face wouldn’t pursue him. He probably still didn’t realize that his coin purse was no longer at his waist, but in the young beggar’s knapsack.

His coin purse was not light at all; there must be at least twenty or thirty shiny pieces of silver inside.

The young beggar, his large eyes drawn to the long legs of the girl with the braids, felt quite happy.

When she held out her copper gong and said, “Dear audience, please give a few coins,” the young beggar, who just now been begging others for alms, suddenly became generous. He pulled out a few coins and tossed them into the gong.

The braided girl smiled at him sweetly, and the beggar suddenly felt a bit dizzy. Just when he was thinking of giving a few more coins, he suddenly felt hands clamp down on his shoulders.

It was two beggars, one pock-marked, the other crippled, and the force of their grip was not light.

The young beggar might be as slippery as a loach, but in their grip he could barely move.

The only thing he could do was smile at them with his trademark specialty smile.

Unfortunately, these two fellow beggars did not seem to be the least bit moved by his round face, big eyes and dimples. Not only did they refuse to release him, the grabbed his arms and dragged him up from the ground and away from the crowd.

Everyone around was paying attention to the long legs, and not a one seemed to care about the affairs of these three stinking beggars.

The gongs and drums sounded out again, and a new show started.

Part 4

The young beggar was not small. Looking at his face you might put him at between 14-16, although judging on his physique he was probably between 17-19. But in the hands of the pockmarked and crippled beggars, he was like a baby chick, his two feet not even touching the ground.

He wanted to laugh, but couldn’t.

He also wanted to cry out, but the pockmarked beggar had already scooped up a handful of mud from the ground. “If you cry out, I’ll stuff your mouth full of this.”

Getting your mouth filled up with a big handful of mud was no fun, so the young beggar could only make a bitter face and say, “Dear sirs, I didn’t do anything to offend you. My are you treating a poor kid like me in this way?”

“We didn’t want to have to deal with you,” said the crippled one. Though his face was stiff, his voice was mild. “But you need to come somewhere with us.”

“Go somewhere? Where?”

“To see Uncle.”

“Uncle? Ever since I was young, I never had a mom or dad, where could an Uncle come from?” The young beggar seemed on the verge of tears. “Sirs, I think you must have made some kind of mistake.”

They ignored him. The sound of drums and gongs from the marketplace grew more and more distant.

They had already reached a small hill outside the village.

***

On the hillside stood a large, bluish-green tree. Underneath the tree lay a bluish green slab of stone. And on the stone sat a man wearing a bluish green garment.

The garment, dilapidated, covered with patches, was nonetheless quite clean.

The man’s face too, was clean, but expressionless, seemingly without any color whatsoever, almost as if he were dead.

Thankfully it was the middle of the day; were it the middle of the night, anyone who saw him would either be scared to death or scared so bad they would jump three meters into the air.

It seemed as if the man in bluish-green hadn’t noticed them. He just sat there, his head tilted at an angle, staring off into the distance, seemingly lost in thought. Perhaps he was recalling some bittersweet memory, or perhaps some unforgettable person.

And yet his ashen face showed no expression, and his cold eyes truly looked like a corpse’s.

The pockmarked beggar and the crippled beggar stood in front of him, not daring to even breath.

The young beggar seemed to have lost his usual nerve, and was too scared to say anything.

Quite some time passed before the man in bluish-green garment spoke. And when he did, he only said three words: “Let him go.”

The two beggars immediately released their pincer-like grasp on the young beggar. Even as he let out a sigh of relief, he took a closer look and suddenly noticed that the right sleeve of the man’s bluish-green garment was empty. Completely empty and tucked into the waist of his garment. On his back he carried several large burlap sacks, all empty. It looked like there were at least five, and maybe even seven or eight. [3]

Another burlap sack lay on the bluish-green rock, and it seemed to be bulging with something, although who knew what.

Anyone with experience in Jianghu should be able to tell that the man with the bluish-green garment and missing arm was someone of immense power and influence, with countless disciples under his control. He was clearly one of the esteemed and venerated Elders of the great “Beggar Sect.”

But the young beggar didn’t seem to realize this.

He didn’t understand rules, and didn’t understand the ways of the world. And what’s worse, things that he shouldn’t understand, he seemed to know a lot about.

Other than stealing chickens and petting dogs, showing his dimples and feigning cuteness and innocence, and making off with other’s money, he also seemed to understand how to appreciate women’s legs.

The one-armed man continued to stare off into the distance for a while before suddenly saying, “Do you know who I am?”

The young beggar shook his head vigorously. And then, he suddenly started nodded his head.

“I know who you are,” he said. “These two sirs said they were going to take me to see Uncle. You must be him.”

The man didn’t reply.

The young beggar sighed. “Unfortunately, you aren’t my Uncle. I don’t even have an uncle. So whose Uncle are you?”

He suddenly clapped his hands. “I know. You aren’t anyone’s Uncle. People just call you that. It’s your nickname.”

The man didn’t reply.

The young beggar laughed, pleased to find himself so intelligent. Even a difficult question like this one was no problem for him.

Unfortunately, the next question wasn’t so easy.

“Do you know why I had them bring you to see me?”

“Why?” When unable to answer a question, the best thing to do is to ask a followup question, a trick often used by worldly-wise people.

And it turns out this little bastard knew the trick too.

At long last, the man in bluish-green turned his head, staring at the young beggar with cold eyes. In an icy voice he said ten words.

“It’s because you violated the rules of the our Sect.”

“Sect?” The young beggar didn’t seem to understand. “What Sect are you?”

“The Poor Family Sect.”

Everyone in Jianghu knows that the Poor Family Sect is none other than the Beggar Sect. But it seemed the young beggar didn’t know.

“You made a mistake. I’m not in the Poor Family Sect. I mean, I’m poor, but I don’t have a family. If I did, then maybe I wouldn’t be poor!”

“It doesn’t matter if you aren’t a member of our Sect.”

“Why?”

“Because our Sect governs everyone in the world who makes their living by begging.” His voice, though cold and detached, carried the feeling of frightening power.

The young beggar laughed again, a laugh of pure happiness. And then he said two words that no one could possibly have imagined he would say: “Good bye.”

Usually people only say good bye when the time has come to leave — sometimes when they truly must leave, or other times when they don’t at all want to. Sometimes it’s just for show, a way to cajole others in to urging you to stay.

But the young beggar really did mean to leave. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he made to depart.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t.

Before he could move a meter, the two beggars with their pincer-like grasps grabbed him.

“What are you grabbing me for?” protested the young beggar. “There’s nothing here to do with me. I’m not in your Poor Family Sect, and I’m not a beggar.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course I’m not. I recently changed professions.”

“Changed professions to what?”

“I’m a thief.” The young beggar spoke with utmost confidence: “Even if you’re the ancestor of all the young beggars in the world, you aren’t in charge of me, because I’m a thief.”

What he said did make sense. Nobody could say it didn’t.

The armless man in the bluish-green garment again stared off into the distance. “Things that other people might not be in charge of,” he said coldly. “I take charge of.”

“Why?”

—“Because I’m not other people.” “Because I am stronger than other people.” “Because I am more powerful than other people.”

He didn’t say any of these things.

He neither wanted nor needed to. Sometimes saying nothing is the best thing to say.

He pointed to the bulging burlap sack which lay next to him on the bluish-green rock. “Take a look,” he said. “Take a look at what’s inside.”

***

The young beggar had wanted to look inside from the very beginning.

He knew that whatever was inside, it wasn’t anything nice, and it wouldn’t do him any good whatsoever to look. But curiosity crawled around inside his heart like a caterpillar.

Of course he wanted to look. He couldn’t not look.

And after he did, the crawling caterpillar of curiosity in his heart didn’t leave. Instead, it suddenly turned into a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand caterpillars. Wriggling not just in his heart, but also his stomach, his intestines, his pores, his blood vessels, and even in his bones.

Wherever caterpillars of curiosity could crawl in his body, they did, until he wanted to kick and curse and cry and vomit.

***

Actually, there wasn’t anything special about the things in the bag. They were things that everyone can see everyday, all the time.

The bag was filed with some noses, some ears, and some hands.

Human noses, human ears, and human hands.

It is a world of people

As long as you live in the world, and are not blind, then other than when you are sleeping, you will see these things all the time. It would be hard not to see them.

But things like this should not be packed into a burlap sack.

The man in bluish-green, his voice cold, said, “Threaten to blackmail, have ears and nose sliced off. Steal wealth, have hands cut off. Rape wives and daughters, be slaughtered without mercy. Regardless of whether you are a member of the Sect.”

“Who set this rule?”

“Me.”

“Did you ever stop to think that perhaps this rule of yours is a bit too ruthless?” said the young beggar. “Furthermore, you don’t have the authority to set such a rule!”

“No, I never thought about it.”

“And no one ever told you?”

“No!”

The young beggar sighed. “Well, someone is telling you now. I advise you to change your rule as soon as possible.”

The man in bluish-green turned his head, looking at the young beggar with icy eyes. “Your luck is not bad,” he said suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Because you’re still a child. Otherwise you would already be dead by my palm.”

His gaze once again shifted to far in the distance. Ignoring the young beggar, he gave a cold order: “Chop off his left hand.”

The young beggar took to his heels immediately, running as fast as possible.

A young man like this would always be prepared to flee. He might not have any other abilities, but he sure could run away quickly.

As he ran, he shouted, “It’s because you’re missing your left hand, isn’t it! So you want to chop off other peoples’ left hands!”

He dared to shout this because he’d already checked to make sure no one was behind him following.

There wasn’t anyone behind him. But there was in front of him.

It was impossible to determine when it had happened, but the man in the bluish-green garment now stood in front of him. Not even looking at him, the man said, “From now on, you might only have one hand, but if you agree to be a good person, you can live on. And you might even have a better life than when you had two hands.”

The young beggar shook his head vigorously.

“No way. I’ll pass. Two hands is always better than one. There’s no way I’ll let you chop my hand off.”

As he shouted urgently, there suddenly could be heard the sound of someone dashing up the hillside. And then from behind him, two shiny, black braids appeared.

She ran quickly, mostly because of her long, strong legs.

As she ran, she shouted, “He’s just a poor little kid, please forgive him!”

The man in bluish-green frowned. “Who is he to you?” he asked her.

“I don’t even know him. I just know that I feel pity for him.”

“You pity him? Why don’t you pity the person whose coin purse he stole? Maybe that coin purse contained all his money in the world. And now his parents, wife and children will have no money to live on. Why don’t you pity them?”

The girl with braids seemed at a loss for words. “Maybe it is like that,” she stuttered. “But you should first try to find out the truth for yourself.”

“I don’t need to find out anything.” His eyes suddenly shone with an indescribable hatred. “I would rather kill a hundred in error, then let one go free.”

“But…”

Before the girl could even finish her sentence, she felt herself pulled to the side. And then she felt a small knife at her neck. It was none other than the young beggar.

Pressing his knife against the girl’s throat, he said, “If you don’t let me go, I’ll kill her. And her death will be because of you. What is the punishment for harming innocents? I bet it’s to cut off all your limbs.”

The man in bluish green didn’t appear to be angry. His expression didn’t change. Without even thinking, he said, “You may go.”

Part 5

And so the young beggar left with the braided-hair girl, his two hands still intact.

They descended the hillside and left Li Village. They walked a long way until they reached a dense forest out in the wilderness, and when the young beggar was sure they weren’t being followed he finally released the girl.

The girl with the braids instantly turned around, her beautiful eyes flashing angrily. “Are you human?” she asked furiously.

“Of course,” replied the young beggar with a chuckle. “From head to feet.”

“If you are, then how could you do such a thing? How could you treat me like that?”

She was clearly very upset, but the young beggar just laughed happily and retorted, “Didn’t you go there to rescue me?”

“Of course.”

“Well, you rescued me. Your wish came true. What did I do wrong?”

She seemed to be stumped by his question, and had to admit that what he said did make a little bit of sense.

He asked her another question: “What are you going to do to express your thanks to me?”

“Express thanks to you?” cried the girl. “You want me to express thanks to you?”

“Of course you should express thanks,” said the young beggar assuredly. “The man in the bluish-green garment and one arm is the type of person who makes decisions quickly, and his martial arts are ridiculously high level. Furthermore, he’s some kind of eccentric freak. If I hadn’t used that method, how exactly were you going to get me away from him?”

The girl with the braids couldn’t think of anything to say.

The more the young beggar talked, the more he made sense. “You wouldn’t have rescued me, and then you would have been very sad. I gave you the chance to be happy, and for such a service, how could you not express thanks?”

The girl laughed, and as she laughed, she looked a lot like the blooming white flower buds that grew at the edge of the forest.

“You little bastard. You really are full of sneaky tricks.”

“If you have problems coming up with any, I’m happy to help you think of some.”

“What sneaky trick are you talking about now?”

“A way for you to express your thanks.”

“What way. Tell me,” she said with a wink. She wanted to hear what tricky plan this little bastard would come up with.

The young beggar coughed a couple times, then, with a completely deadpan expression, said, “If you just let me kiss your pretty lips, it will count as you thanking me, and I’ll call things even.”

The girl’s face turned scarlet. The young beggar seemed completely intent on this method.

“You dare! You dare to try to kiss me, I’ll…”

“What, what’s wrong?”

The only thing she could do was run, quickly, her braids flying back behind her. The two bows looked like two butterflies dancing in the air. [4]

The young beggar laughed heartily, so hard that he bent over laughing.

It was now April, and Spring had come to the world.

Part 6

The mulberry grove was thick and dense, as thick and dense as the falling spring showers and the sorrows that come with them.

The young beggar didn’t chase after those two butterflies. He liked beautiful butterflies, but he had no desire to once again run into any pale, death-like faces.

The forest would be a much safer place.

He turned to head into the woods, hoping to find a lush tree to curl up under and sleep for a while.

Who would have thought that he couldn’t find such a tree, because someone else had already found him.

***

Actually, five people found him, and they surrounded him, making it impossible for him to flee.

Five large, scary-looking men, strong and fierce; they didn’t appear to be ultimate martial arts experts, but for them to kill a few kids like the young beggar obviously wouldn’t be a problem.

One of the men had a huge goiter on his neck and carried an enormous broadsword; he seemed to be the boss of the group. Grinning hideously at the young beggar, he said, “Hey kid, do ya understand the rules of the road? Us bros saw that fat little sheep first, why’d ya steal it away?”

“Fat little sheep? Where is there a fat little sheep?” The young beggar had an extremely strange expression on his face. “I haven’t run into any skinny little sheep, let alone any fat ones to steal.”

“If ya smell the sweet fragrance of money, ya half to split it in half. Do ya understand this rule?”

“Nope,” said the young beggar. “I haven’t bathed in at least fourteen or fifteen days and my body stinks to high heaven. I don’t smell any sweet fragrance.”

He pulled at his clothes and smelled them, then immediately plugged his nose and frowned. “Super stinky. So stinky it might kill you. If you don’t believe then come on over and take a whiff.”

“Look kid!” said Goiter-man angrily, “don’t pretend ta be stupid.”

He rotated his wrist, and his blade glittered. His comrades suddenly called out, “Let’s take care a this bastard, see if he wants ta give us his money or his life.”

The young beggar suddenly seemed to understand what was going on. “Oh, you guys are bandits, and you want my money.” He sighed. “Bandits out to steal money from a beggar. Bandits like this aren’t very common.”

Goiter-man let out a shout and began to swing his blade. The young beggar hastily waved his arms and said, “There’s absolutely no reason to get angry. If you get angry, your goiter is going to swell up. Who’s to say it might not get bigger than your head, and that wouldn’t be any fun.”

He put on a smile, and once again his dimples appeared, “As long as you don’t get angry, I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Us bros don’t want anything except shiny white silver! That’ll keep us from getting angry!”

“I don’t have any silver. But what if I give you an ingot?” [5]

“Ok.” Goiter-man’s anger changed into laughter. “Of course that’s okay.”

“Do you want a big one? Or a small one?”

“A big one, of course. The bigger the better.”

“Well, that’s easy,” said the young beggar with a laugh. “I don’t have any other kind. I just have one ingot, and it’s super big.”

He suddenly dropped to the ground and lay back, resting his head on his hands. “The ingot is right here. Come and get it.”

There was nothing that looked anything like an ingot anywhere to be seen. “Where is it?” they said eagerly.

“I’m the ingot. Because I’m an ingot.” He pointed at his nose. “Don’t you want to have an ingot this big?”

This time Goiter-man was really pissed off, and the goiter on his neck really did start to bulge and get bigger. “Ya little son of a b*tch!” he cursed, “Ya dare to mess with yer elders?”

This time, he really did attack with his sword, and as he raised the enormous blade, it was clear that if it landed on the young beggar, it would cleave his entire body in two.

Goiter-man’s comrades also rushed forward, awls, daggers, hatchets all seeking out the young beggar. Even though their attacks were not nimble, and the weapons they wielded were not the type used by high level experts of the martial world, they could still easily chop the young beggar into pieces in a matter of seconds.

The young beggar seemed scared out of his mind, so much so that his entire body trembled. And yet, deep in his eyes, no fear could be seen.

In that exact moment, what appeared to be four or five flashes of dazzling light shot out from the forest. Some of them, the brightest, shone with what seemed to be a silver light, although it was impossible to see clearly.

That was because they were just too fast, impossible for human eyes to track clearly.

The dazzling light shone, and then disappeared. Five strapping men fell to the ground.

They fell to the ground in an instant, never again to get up, never again to stand.

A flashing, dazzling light; a deadly concealed weapon.

Five men as strong as oxen, killed so quickly they had no chance to call out in pain or terror.

This type of concealed weapon is too fast, too accurate, too fearsome.

Whoever used such a weapon surely must be a top expert of the martial world. Only ten or so such experts existed in the world, and just now had appeared at least two.

This was evident because the dazzling light had actually shot out from two different directions, and the color they emitted had been different.

Why would two peak-level experts appear here, together?

Could it be that they came just to save the young beggar?

The dazzling light had disappeared; so had any trace of the two experts.

The young beggar hadn’t seen the flashes of light, nor had he seen anyone standing in the woods.

He had no idea who had saved him, but in any case, his life was back in his hands. Surely he should express thanks.

Wind blew through the leaves in the silent forest.

He suddenly stood up, seemingly without the slightest bit of thankfulness. In fact, he appeared to be extremely angry, his face flushed red.

“Who are you, you bastards?” he cursed. “Who asked you to save me? You think I can’t handle some eighth-rate bandits?!”

He gets saved, and then he curses his saviors.

If you had to pick a baffling bastard who doesn’t know what’s good and bad, you would be hard pressed to find a better candidate than this kid, don’t you agree?

Thankfully, his saviors were gone, otherwise they would most likely be furious.

***

Talking, singing or even cursing without an audience is really tiring and boring.

The more the young beggar cursed, the more pointless it seemed. He just wanted to find a tree and get some sleep, then think of a way to take care of the five bodies.

—Even though they were eighth-rate bandits, he couldn’t let them died without coffins.

This time, he found an appropriate tree, and prepared to lay down. Because he had turned around, he had no idea what had happened behind him, and would never have imagined that one of the five dead men had come back to life.

Part 7

Dead people can’t come back to life. There weren’t five dead people, there were four.

Goiter-man wasn’t dead, and as soon as the young beggar turned around, his “corpse” started to move.

For some unknown reason, even though he had been injured, his movements were very dextrous, even more so that just a moment ago.

The young beggar had already reached the tree.

Goiter-man stared at him with bloodshot eyes. The goiter suddenly began to turn red, and then it changed from red to purple, and then it started glowing, glowing like a chunk of transparent amethyst.

And then, his body flew forward like a leopard, straight toward the young beggar.

His moves now were those that an eighth-rate bandit could only dream of doing. In fact even seventh-, sixth-, fifth-, fourth-, third-, and second-rate bandits couldn’t do them. His moves had suddenly become first-rate.

Despite being injured, but as he charged forward into attack, his speed, momentum, stances and power were all first-rate.

He’d dropped his huge broadsword upon being injured, but now it seemed his two fists were even more fearsome than the sword.

Blue veins pulsed on the backs of his hands, and then turned purple, and then started to glow.

Even someone with the poorest eyesight could see that this fist technique had been trained to the pinnacle of perfection.

Unfortunately, the young beggar couldn’t see, because his eyes were focused in the opposite direction.

The fortunate thing was that he had very sensitive ears, and he could hear the sound of the attacking fist as it sped through the air.

Then a cracking noise sounded out as Goiter-man’s fist collided into the thick tree trunk.

***

The young beggar stood there, scared half to death. He wasn’t hurt, not in the slightest. But his whole body dripped with cold sweat.

As of now, he knew that this man was not eighth-rate, but definitely first-rate. Before, he had been putting up an act.

A first-rate expert would never become close friends with eighth-rate men, so Goiter-man’s comrades must also have been first-rate.

To mistake first-rate martial arts for eighth-rate was a very dangerous thing; if someone hadn’t saved him just now, would he still be alive?

He now understood that he shouldn’t have cursed them.

But what he didn’t understand was why first-rate martial world experts would pretend to be clumsy fools in an effort to kill a young beggar. And why did they want his life in the first place?

**

[1] Liu is the character for Willow

[2] A loach is a type of fish http://tinyurl.com/lfbt9o9

[3] In case you’re not familiar with the Beggar Sect, I’ll explain the bags briefly. Ranking in the Beggar Sect is usually indicated by how many bags the beggar carries. The highest rank, held by Elders, is usually eight or nine.

[4] This simile sounds better in Chinese because the word for “bow” literally means “butterfly knot.”

[5] An ingot is a large, crescent-shaped gold piece. http://tinyurl.com/kyj9wu7

Dragon King With Seven StarsChapter 3 - Flowered Flags

DRAGON KING WITH SEVEN STARS

C3 - Flowered Flags

Chapter 3 - Flowered Flags

Part 1

April 16. Afternoon.

For Song Changsheng, the day started like any other day. But after lunch, something happened that would never again happen in his lifetime.

Song Changsheng owned the only coffin shop in Liu Village. [1]

Perhaps because the residents of Liu Village lived simple lives, and had relatively long life expectancies, business wasn’t very good. Sometimes income wasn’t even enough to cover expenses. Who would have ever thought that he would get some business after lunch?

He sat drowsily behind the counter. The april wind blew in through the window and across his old, languid frame. It seemed as if it were not content.

Even more annoying, just when he fell asleep, he got woken up by a young beggar.

Usually, when beggars came calling, he would at least give them a couple copper coins. But today he didn’t give anything.

Who could have imagined that the beggar would pull out a bunch of silver pieces and hand them over.

It turned out the young beggar hadn’t come to ask for alms.

“I want to buy some coffins. Five of them. Is this enough silver?”

Song Changsheng stared in shock.

To be wrapped in a straw mat after death was usually good enough for a beggar, yet this young beggar wanted, not just a coffin, but five coffins.

Song Changsheng had been in the coffin business for thirty years, and had never encountered a situation as strange as this.

Even more strange, after loading the coffins onto the cart, he traveled with the young beggar outside of the village to a mulberry forest to collect the corpses, except there were no corpses to be seen.

“No corpses? Why did you buy the coffins?”

He wanted to ask this of the young beggar, but he’d already disappeared. And he’d left behind the over twenty pieces of silver he’d paid for the coffins.

You might think the young beggar was playing some kind of practical joke, but the pieces of silver were no joke.

The more Song Changsheng thought about it, the less it made sense.

Even more unimaginable, just when he returned to his shop with the five coffins, another person came looking to buy.

This time, the buyer was another beggar. And he also bought five coffins!

This beggar had a face covered with pockmarks, and looked much fiercer than the earlier young beggar.

Song Changsheng didn’t dare to ask any questions other than, “The deceased you intend to place in the coffins, where are they? Where shall I send coffins to?”

With an expressionless face, the pockmarked beggar said, “That’s a secret. A secret worth your life.” His manner of speaking solemn, he continued, “If you knew who the deceased are, I’m afraid you wouldn’t live another day.”

With that, he procured his own cart to take the coffins away. Song Changsheng was so scared he couldn’t speak.

***

He couldn’t sleep the whole night.

Part 2

The young beggar was as confused as Song Changsheng as to why the corpses by the mulberry forest suddenly disappeared.

When he’d left, they were there. And they were definitely dead.

Goiter-man had put every last drop of power into his fist, apparently expecting to die together with the young beggar. So when his attack hit the tree, he’d dropped dead.

The other four corpses were already growing cold.

Before leaving, the young beggar examined the bodies closely.

He didn’t really want to buy coffins for them.

They’d tried to steal his money and kill him, and it wasn’t easy to get silver. He’d prefer to spend silver on sweets, bread, alcohol and meat. Or maybe put into the the gong of the girl with the braids and long legs.

But he still went to buy the coffins.

If one wants to live, it’s hard to avoid situations where you have to do something you don’t really want to.

***

It was impossible for the young beggar to guess who had taken away the corpses. And even more impossible for him to know that the pockmarked beggar went to Song Changsheng to buy five coffins.

He just wanted to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

By dusk, he’d reached Jinan. After wandering around for a while, he caught sight of Wu Tao.

It seemed these two had some sort of predestined connection.

***

Part 3

The corpses in the mulberry forest had been taken away by the man in the bluish-green clothing.

That happened when the young beggar went to buy the coffins.

The man in bluish-green had of course not truly let the young beggar go free. He had continued to follow him, just hadn’t made any move on him.

When the young beggar returned and found the bodies missing, he didn’t go looking for them.

By purchasing coffins for them, he’d done all that he could. He didn’t care who took the bodies away; it didn’t have anything to do with him, and he’d lost interest in the matter.

But the man in bluish-green found the five bodies extremely interesting. He called his subordinate to go purchase the five coffins and place the bodies inside. And then he let the young beggar go.

What did these five people have to do with him? Why would he take care of their bodies? Why did he suddenly let the young beggar go?

His subordinates didn’t dare to ask any questions, and he didn’t plan to explain anything to them. He just gave a simple order.

“No matter where you see that kid in the future, don’t do anything to him.” He had a very serious expression on his pale face. “Now get these coffins to Jinan, immediately.”

***

By the time the young beggar saw Wu Tao, the coffins had already entered the city.

Part 4

Night. For most people, it was quite different than most other nights. The business situation in Jinan was desolate. Many big shops that normally were quite successful, had long since closed their doors. Even customers that had made appointments days in advance were turned away.

Even two families who had reserved rooms for weddings at the “Great Three Yuan” restaurant had to find different locations.

No one knew why this was happening. The managers and clerks kept their lips sealed.

The only clue available was that all of the businesses were owned by the famous multi-millionaire Sun Jicheng. That, and strapping men on fine horses were constantly speeding in and out of his tightly guarded mansion.

***

When the young beggar caught sight of Wu Tao, he sat in an average sized eatery, looking a little depressed. Two dishes of fine food sat in front of him, as well as a cup of alcohol, none of which had he touched.

The young beggar stood in the street across from him, just looking at him, for quite some time. After a while, he decided to join him, try to cheer him up, and of course at the same time help himself to some of the food and alcohol.

Unfortunately, the sharp-faced man didn’t seem to appreciate his intentions, and in fact completely ignored him. It was as if he didn’t even see him standing there.

The young beggar laughed, showing off his dimples.

He was not the type of person to give up easily on the chance to have some good food and alcohol.

Even though this old fellow was stingy to death, the young beggar was confident he had a way to deal with him.

So he sat down in front of the man and said, “Did you lose your coin purse?”

He’d thought for a while about what to say, and knew that with this sentence, Wu Tao wouldn’t be able to ignore him any longer.

And of course Wu Tao fell right into his trap. He suddenly looked up and asked, “How do you know I lost my coin purse?”

“Of course I know.” Then he retorted, “Do you want me to get it back for you?”

As he spoke, he grabbed some chopsticks from the bamboo tube on the table and helped himself to the platter of pig ears and offal. [2]

Wu Tao watched him eat.

The money in the coin purse was enough to buy a whole pig.

“You can really get it back for me?”

“Absolutely. No joke.“

“When can you get it back?”

“Right now,” he said. “I can get it back immediately.”

By this time, he had already half finished the platter of Mushu pork and fried bread.

“Okay, where is it?” asked Wu Tao eagerly.

“Right here.” The young beggar continued to eat with his right hand, and pulled out the coin purse with his left. “Is this it?”

“That’s right, it’s mine.”

The coin purse was his, but sadly, it had no money in it.

“It used to have twenty three silver and change in it.”

“I know,” said the young beggar, eating even more quickly. “I promised to get the coin purse back, I never said anything about the money inside.”

“What happened to it?”

“I spent it all.” Before Wu Tao could get angry, the young beggar continued, “I’ll make a bet with you that you can’t guess what I spent it on.”

With the silver gone, there was no point in getting angry. Wu Tao just shook his head and sighed. “You could live for a month on twenty three silver. How did you possibly spend it all at once?”

“I bought something.”

“What did you buy?”

“I bought five coffins.”

Wu Tao couldn’t even heave a sigh if he wanted to. He stared at the young beggar in shock, wearing the same expression on his face that he might wear if he suddenly stepped into a pile of dog poop.

“Why did you buy coffins?” he blurted.

“I wanted to help you do something good with your silver,” replied the young beggar. “I just happened to see five dead people on the road. So I bought coffins for them and at the same time helped you build up some good karma.”

The young beggar sighed. “These kinds of opportunities don’t come along very often. You’re really lucky to have suddenly have such a chance.”

Wu Tao stared at him, gaping, not sure whether to laugh, or cry, or bite the kid.

After a while, he laughed bitterly. “When you put it that way,” he said, “it seems I’m actually really f*cking lucky.”

It turned out the man could curse.

The young beggar laughed.

“I knew you were the kind of person who can tell the difference between good and bad.” The young beggar was purposely trying to get under his skin. “If another opportunity like that comes along, I’ll do the same thing again.”

It seemed like he was trying to drive the man crazy.

Wu Tao stared at him for a while, then suddenly slapped his palm down onto the table. “Bring alcohol,” he called loudly to the waiter. “I want twenty pounds of your finest cabbage and five appetizer dishes, the finest type, nothing cheap.”

The young beggar was shocked.

The stingy old man must have gone crazy, otherwise why would he suddenly become so generous and extravagant?

When the alcohol came, Wu Tao, drank three cups in a row, then put the cup down and let out three laughs. He slapped himself on the chest and called out, “I’m happy! It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to drink so happily!”

He poured a cup for the young beggar. “Come, drink with me,” he said. “Whatever you feel like eating, just order it. Today we’re going to eat to our hearts’ content.”

The little beggar picked up the cup and poured the alcohol into his mouth.

When crazy people say crazy things, it is best to just go along with the, lest you earn yourself a beating.

After drinking three more cups, Wu Tao asked, “Do you know why I’m so happy today?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because of you.” Wu Tao laughed heartily. “You’ve made me happy. I’ve never before met a little bastard like you.”

The young beggar also laughed heartily. “There aren’t many little bastards like me.”

At this point, he could see that the old man wasn’t crazy. No, his everyday life was just too restrictive, disciplined and rigid. Now that he had the opportunity, he wanted to relax and enjoy a bit of happiness.

Wu Tao drank another cup, and then suddenly slapped the table again. “Those bastards really are good-for-nothing,” he said. “If it weren’t for you, I would have been so pissed off by them I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight.”

“What bastards are you talking about?”

“Those sons of b*tches from the old Xiang Tai Chou Silk factory,” said Wu Tao angrily. “I made an order of Shandong silk from them a long time ago, and the delivery date was today. I even paid for it already. But they weren’t open today. Not even a single person was there. I called out until my throat was sore, but nobody showed up.”

The young beggar slapped the table. “Those bastards really are bastards. Forget about them. Come on, let’s drink.”

“Right!” said Wu Tao, looking happy again. “Forget them. Let’s drink.”

Unfortunately, his alcohol tolerance wasn’t very good. After drinking two more cups, his tongue began to swell, and his face looked redder than a monkey’s ***. When he spoke, it sounded like he had an egg in his mouth.

But it seemed his head was still quite clear. “My surname is Wu,” he said to the young beggar. “I’m called Wu Tao. What’s your name?”

“I’m called Ingot,” said the young beggar. “You know, everyone likes ingots.” [3]

“Ingot.” Wu Tao laughed. “That’s a really f*cking good name!”

Part 5

By this time, the man in the bluish-green garment had arrived in Jinan.

The two coffins were being pulled along on two flat carts, not by pack animals, but by people.

Disciples of the Beggar Sect did not use horses or carts or sedan chairs. No matter what the endeavor, they relied only on themselves. They sweated their own sweat, used their own energy.

The pockmarked beggar and the crippled beggar pushed the carts, and the man in bluish-green walked slowly behind them, his hollow eyes staring off into the distance. Though he walked behind them, it seemed as if his heart were in another world, a world no one had ever entered except he himself.

They walked down a gloomy, remote road.

Even though the moon was full this night, it’s light did not shine on this place. The rickety carts creaked under the weight of the coffins. Soot along with the stench of garbage filled the air, and the face of the man in bluish green appeared even more frightening.

Where was he taking the coffins? And what did he plan to do with them?

No one knew, and no one dared to ask.

The cart wheels rolled along in the ash, and the beggars pushing the carts dripped with sweat in the cold wind.

Suddenly, seven or eight spears stabbed out from the darkness, jamming the wheels of the carts. Several large men in fancy costumes leaped out, surrounding them. Each and every one of them appeared to be extremely quick and agile, and their drawn swords glittered dazzlingly.

Because of his slow pace, the man in bluish-green was now cut off from the carts. Pockmark’s face changed; it seemed almost as if the pock marks on his face had begun to glow.

But he remained motionless.

He could see that what was truly frightening was not these men. As far as he was concerned, even combined, the sharp swords in the hands of these nine or ten men could not compare to the cup of alcohol in the hands of another man.

This man sat in a red sandalwood chair, and was being pushed forward by another man.

The wood chair had two wheels; the man held a cup of alcohol in his hand.

Arriving in this fashion, it looked almost like he had made a special trip here just to drink. He didn’t seem interested in anything at all other than the alcohol.

Someone else stood next to him, a person who seemed to be his diametric opposite.

Wearing resplendent garments and a smiling, indolent expression, he looked like a javelin, ready at any moment to shoot forth and stab you through the heart.

He stopped in front of the cart. “I’m surnamed Lian,” he said coldly. “Lian Gen. These are my men, and they are ready to die for me at a moment’s notice.”

He spoke in a direct and succinct manner, somewhat aggressive: “Therefore, you, too, can die for me at a moment’s notice.”

Pockmarks laughed. “Fortunately, we neither wish others to die, nor ourselves. We’re just two poor beggars.”

“I can see that.”

“We don’t have any money, and there’s nothing valuable on our carts, just five coffins. There are no treasures inside the coffins, just some corpses.”

“I just want to borrow some things for a while, to look at.”

“What do we have that we could lend you?”

“Coffins,” said Lian Gen. “Those five coffins you have there on your carts.”

“You think these coffins are good-looking?”

“No, they aren’t. And neither are the corpses. But I don’t need to look at anything good-looking. Things that don’t look good, however, I must examine.”

“You must?”

“Absolutely!”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely,” said Lian Gen sternly. “Even if your Beggar Sect leader Lord Xiao were here, I would still be forced to take a look.”

Pockmarks sighed. “Then you might as well ask these men to die for you right now!”

Lian Gen’s face twisted and he slowly lifted up his hand. Then his hand shot backwards, snatching the steel sword out of the hand of one of his men. He twisted the sword in his hands and it snapped in two.

Finally, the man in the wheelchair spoke up. “Very good kung fu. Very good.” He smiled. “Even Huainan’s Eagle King Clan doesn’t have anyone who can compare to you.” [4]

“Of course no one can compare to me.”

Gripping the broken end of the sword between two fingers, he waved his hand. Light flashed, and a thud sounded out as the sword fragment pierced into one of the coffins.

Pockmark’s facial expression changed. “Thankfully,” he said coolly, “the person in that coffin is already dead. Stabbing him a few more times won’t hurt.”

“He’s dead, but you’re not.”

Lian Gen still had half a sword in his hand. “This, I’m saving for you.”

As soon as he finished speaking, another person suddenly appeared between the two of them.

A man in bluish-green clothing, his face pale. It was as if he had just blown in on the wind.

Lian Gen took a step backwards. “Who are you?” he asked angrily.

It seemed as if the man in bluish-green didn’t hear him, or even see him. From within his garment, he pulled out a handful of flags, very small flags, attached to a black iron flagpoles about six or seven inches long each.

—Were these little flags some kind of deadly weapon?

Even as he gripped the sword, Lian Gen’s hand began to sweat. Everyone’s hands began to sweat.

They all could see that the man in bluish-green could kill people with anything, even a twig.

But he didn’t kill anyone.

He just stuck the flags onto the coffins.

Five coffins. Five flags.

After sticking the flags into the coffins, he began to walk off. Pockmarks and Cripple followed him, leaving behind the coffins that they moments ago had been willing to die to defend.

The sword-wielding men immediately stepped aside to let them leave.

They’d come only for the coffins. As long as the coffins stayed, they wouldn’t look to cause any trouble. The sooner they could accomplish their task, the sooner they could return, have a drink, take a shower and sleep. At the last, that was better than risking their lives on a dark, remote road.

Who could have predicted that the beggars would leave? But they did, and left behind were five flags, stuck into five coffins.

Why would they do this?

No one could figure it out, nor did they think about it closely.

On the long, dark path, underneath the pale moonlight, amidst the cold wind, Lian Gen suddenly waved his hand.

“Let’s go!” he said. “Take the coffins and go.”

Four of the big men sheathed their swords and rushed forward to push the carts. However, after taking only two steps, they suddenly stopped. It was as if some unspeakable magic had stopped them, as if some invisible magical force had used eight invisible nails to affix them to the ground. They didn’t move in the slightest.

They eyes of all four of the men stared at exactly the same thing.

At the flags.

Just now, a gust of wind had blown down the path and unfurled the flags from their small flagpoles. The flags fluttered in the wind; embroidered upon them were countless colorful flowers that appeared even more vibrant in the white moonlight.

After a long moment, the four men could finally move again; but they did not move forward, they moved backward.

Furious, Lian Gen blurred into motion.

He had always managed his subordinates with military discipline; never before had they defied his orders.

Several claps rang out in succession, and the faces of the four men began to swell and grow red.

They dared not resist, nor evade. They had utmost fear and respect for Lian Gen.

And yet they could not make themselves even touch the coffins.

Lian Gen’s iron palm once again stretched out, grabbing hold of the arm of one of the men; no matter how thick and strong the arm, it would be as brittle as charcoal in his hand.

He never issued an order a second time, and he had determined to prove so through his actions.

The sound of bone snapping in the cold wind was nothing but blood-chilling. The man whose arm had been broken screamed shrilly like a wolf.

Lian Gen glared sharply at the other men. One word at a time, he said, “Is anyone going to move these coffins?

***

No one stepped forth.

Not even one.

The man in the wheelchair finally put down his cup and let out a very long sigh. “It’s useless,” he said. “Even killing them would do nothing. None of them will dare to move the coffins.”

Lian Gen turned his head, his eyes furious. “Why?”

“Because of the flags. For thirty years, no one within four hundred kilometers of Jinan Prefecture has dared to move the flags of Old Master Tian.”

Lian Gen laughed.

“What happens if you move them?”

“I don’t know,” said the man in the wheelchair. “Why don’t you try and see?”

The veins on his forehead bulging, Lian Gen said, “That’s what I’m doing right now.”

***

The carts still lay on the road; the coffins still lay on the carts.

Lian Gen walked forward slowly, the veins on the backs of his hands bulging out like vipers.

And then he actually stretched out his hand to grab one of the flags.

With his kung fu, and the superhuman power of his iron palms, even were they large trees, he should still be able to pull them out.

And yet, he couldn’t lift out these little flags.

Even as his had began to stretch out, an emaciated old man appeared in front of him. He wore black clothing, and had a head as bald as a condor. His hand, as skinny as a chicken’s foot, shot out like lightning and gripped Lian Gen’s hand.

Lian Gen’s face twisted, and though he still stood there javelin straight, beads of sweat flowed down his face like yellow soybeans.

The bald-headed man looked at him indifferently, then asked, “Are you Sun Jicheng’s chief steward, the man called “Superhuman Eagle King?”

“Yes, I am,” said Lian Gen, his voice hoarse and filled with pain. “I am Lian Gen.”

“Then you’re mistaken,” said the old man. “There are two areas in which you are mistaken.”

“Oh?”

“First, you should not have tried to move the flags.”

“And second?”

“Second, you think too much of your kung fu. It is a far cry from that of the Huainan Eagle King Clan’s.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the sound of shattering bones could be heard in the cold wind.

Lian Gen let out a wretched cry, and then shot away like a javelin into the night.

His men followed as fast as possible, leaving behind the man in the wheelchair. He smiled and clapped his hands. “Of the Three Kings of Huainan, Old Wang is the most powerful.” True admiration filled his voice. “Old Mr. Wang’s Divine Eagle Claw truly is extraordinary.”

“Extraordinary, extraordinary.” The voice of another person rang out on the dark path. He too applauded. “I never thought that ‘Great Three Yuan’ restaurant’s general manager Mr. Zheng would have such keen eyesight. With one glance he identified old uncle Wang’s kung fu. That is truly extraordinary.”

***

This man was not old. Big and tall, he was also not young, but when he smiled he looked like a child.

He couldn’t count as good-looking. He had small eyes, a big mouth, a flat nose and a round face; when he smiled, his eyes disappeared. And yet, he couldn’t count as ugly either.

He too sat in a well-decorated wheelchair like Zheng Nanyuan’s [5]. He turned the wheels himself to push the chair forward.

General manager Zheng Nanyuan laughed. “So it’s Young Master Tian.” He clasped his hands in front of himself and gave a bow. “Greetings, Young Master.”

“General Manager Zheng, greetings.”

“Why is Young Master also using a wheelchair?”

“I’m imitating you,” he said, coming to rest next to the flags. “I’ve always wanted to have a wheelchair like this.”

“But, just two days ago you were as vigorous as a tiger or dragon. You could leap up the twenty or so stairs of the restaurant in just three steps.”

“My legs are as good as ever. Otherwise, how could the Old Master continue to call me Frogboy.” [6]

“Then why are you using a wheelchair?” Zheng Nanyuan asked again.

“Because I’m lazy,” replied Frogboy. “I think using energy to walk is really a horrible waste.”

Zheng Nanyuan laughed heartily. Both of them laughed.

“General Manager Zheng, don’t tell me you are also here for our five guests.”

“Guests? Which five guests?”

“Whoever the Old Master gives his flags to are our guests, regardless of whether they are dead or alive.” With a smile, Frogboy asked: “Would you mind allowing us to take them away?”

“Please do.”

Zheng Nanyuan immediately turned his wheelchair around to leave.

He was a sensible person, so he decided to leave immediately so as not to block the way of Young Master Tian.

He never imagined that Old Mr. Wang would call out, “Wait a moment!”

Zheng Nanyuan turned around and found Mr. Wang’s renowned Eagle Claws at his throat.

His two hands had just shattered Lian Gen’s iron palms with minimal effort; they could obviously pierce anyone’s throat.

Zheng Nanyuan didn’t even blink. “What is it,” he said calmly.

“Do you know who the people are in the coffin?”

“No.”

“Then why do you want them?”

“Because something happened last night at the residence of our Big Boss. Therefore, anyone who enters Jinan Prefecture today must be checked out, regardless of whether they are alive or dead.”

Part 6

By this time, Wu Tao was already drunk, really drunk, passed out like a grub on the table of the small eatery.

The young beggar called “Ingot” sat across from him staring at him, not sure whether he himself was drunk or not.

—In situations like this, for people who were in Jinan for the first time that night, perhaps being drunk was for the best.

Part 7

Everywhere could be seen huge stacks of lumber, shipped in from a multitude of locations. The fragrance of sawdust filled the air.

Everyone within 400 kilometers knew that no bigger lumber yard existed than “Forest Memory.” But few people knew it also acted as a subsidiary outpost for disciples of the Flowered Flag.

Behind the main square, which was piled full of lumber, could be found a large, spacious woodshed. The rickety carts hard already been disposed of, and now the five coffins lay inside the woodshed.

On a long table nailed together from wood planks, a lamp flickered over a tray of meat, a jug of alcohol, and three sets of cups and chopsticks. But only two people sat there.

Condor Wang stared with eagle-like sharpness at Frogboy, who sat across from him.

“Do you really believe that that guy surnamed Zheng is just the general manager of a restaurant?”

“Nope.”

“Then you shouldn’t have let him leave.”

“What would you do if he stayed?” said Frogboy with a smile. “Invite him here to drink?”

“At the least, I could test out my kung fu.”

“There’s no need to try,” he replied resolutely. “His kung fu is definitely no worse than ours.”

The Condor said nothing more. Suddenly his pupils dilated, and then he flipped into the air like a bird. One hand protecting his chest, he shot out the window.

There was no one outside the window.

The person who had been outside had already floated in. A face as a pale as a corpse’s, seemingly forever staring at a distant pair of eyes, a set of bluish-green clothing washed so thoroughly it had begun to fade. And a sleeve tucked into his waist.

Frogboy looked at him, and then looked at the coffins. With a shake of his head and a bitter laugh, he said, “Why do you always make deliveries like this to us?”

“Why don’t you ever ask someone else to?” retorted the man in bluish-green. “And why didn’t you ask those people why they were interested in the five coffins?”

“I did ask. He just said that something strange occurred last night in their Big Boss’s home.”

“Why didn’t you ask about the details of this strange occurrence?”

“I don’t need to ask, because I already know. Three people died there last night.”

“Which three people?”

“One was their chief guard Que Budao. Another was the middle-aged former imperial maid with incredible tailoring skills, Liu Jin’niang. And the other was none other than their Big Boss, Sun Jicheng.”

“Sun Jicheng is dead?” said the man in bluish-green, sounding surprised. “How could he be dead?”

“They say that he fell under Qiu Budao’s Divine Shaolin Palm. One fatal strike.”

“And Qiu Budao?”

“He died after drinking a cup of poisoned alochol,” said Frogboy. “Apparently it contained so much poison it could kill an entire barracks worth of troops.”

“And who poisoned the wine?”

“Perhaps Sun Jicheng. Perhaps Liu Jin’niang. Perhaps Qiu Budao himself. They all had reason to poison the wine. As for what really happened, I’m afraid only heaven knows.”

The man in the bluish-green garment sat silently in thought.

The Condor had returned to stand next to him, staring with his sharp, eagle eyes at the vital point on the back of the man’s head, his hands pulsing with Qi.

It seemed as if the man in bluish-green hadn’t noticed. After a long time, he asked, “Where did they die?”

“They died in Sun Jicheng’s secret cellar.”

“Did anyone else know about the cellar?”

“Nope.”

“So, therefore, no one else could have poisoned the alcohol?”

“Correct.”

Frogboy added some more information: “The secret cellar is attached to his room. Last night, some of the guards on watch saw Sun Jicheng and Qiu Budao enter together. Afterwards, no one came out.”

A sharp light suddenly shone in the eyes of the man in bluish-green.

“In these circumstances, there is only one explanation for their deaths. A crime of passion, in which everyone perished.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” said Frogboy. “That’s what everyone is thinking.”

“Given that they killed themselves, and there seems to be no other assailant, why are Sun Jicheng’s subordinates investigating strangers who are in Jinan for the first time? Even corpses? Could it be that there is some other secret to be uncovered?”

***

That question pierced to the very heart of the matter, hitting the sweet spot. [7]

**

[1] The characters that make up his name Changsheng literally mean “long life” or “longevity.” For a coffin-maker to have this name seems a bit ironic, doesn’t it? Haha.

[2] Literally it says the platter of “pig ears and pig hearts and pig intestines and pig stomach and pig liver.

[3] I debated a lot about how to translate this. This is not his real name, it’s just an alias/nickname, so I opted not to transliterate it as Yuan Bao. This is not a situation like in Milford’s Deer and the Cauldron translation where I am taking a person’s name and giving it a meaning. In this case, based on the way it is used and how he came up with the name, using “Ingot” is the best choice.

[4] Huainan is basically modern-day central Anhui province. http://tinyurl.com/mbbj5hy

[5] Zheng Nanyuan’s name in Chinese is 郑南园 zhèng nán yuán

[6] His nickname is very clever. His family name is 田, which literally also means field. When you add the character 鸡 or chicken, after that, it means frog. Another character 仔, is often translated into English as boy. I’ll always remember the apocryphal story of a Korean who moved to China, and kept eating “田鸡,” thinking that it was organic chicken, only to find out later (in horror) that it was actually frog. In any case, I know the name sounds kind of silly in English, but I think this is the best way to translate it in English. It sounds kind of silly in Chinese too. Also, Old Master Tian is clearly his father.

[7] In this sentence he makes a play on words that I don’t think can be translated into English. The original saying is “to hit a snake seven inches deep,” which means to hit a tender or important spot. Gu Long’s sentence was, “That question pierced to the very heart of the mater, just like a sharp knife piercing seven inches into the snake.” I decided to substitute for a relatively common English expression with similar meaning, considering the original has no meaning to native English speakers.