Chapter 33: The Dagger
A group of rough, bandit-like men entered, their raised pine-resin torches illuminating the hall brightly, revealing the ferocity etched between their brows.
Their surprise was evident upon seeing people already inside the hall.
Equally startled by the newcomers, everyone in the hall—except for the burly man with a face full of scars who continued indifferently feeding firewood into the flames—reacted with alarm.
For a moment, silence filled the hall, broken only by the muffled sobs and struggles of two young women held captive by the group. Their movements exposed glimpses of their peach-red and spring-green undergarments, lending the summer night an eerie stillness.
"Hahaha!" A man burst into laughter, his voice icy and laced with menace. "Never thought anyone would dare occupy our spot!"
Fu Tingyun quickly turned toward the sound.
It was a man in his thirties with a square face, dressed in a short, open-fronted tunic that exposed his scar-covered chest. Standing at the forefront of the group, he spoke while glancing back at his companions.
His followers erupted into raucous laughter, as if Fu Tingyun and the others had committed some grave folly.
From the northwest corner, a man who appeared to be a merchant stepped forward with a polite smile, clasping his hands in greeting toward the square-faced man. "Elder Brother, we are traveling merchants who lost our way and missed lodging for the night. We had no idea this was your esteemed territory."
As he spoke, there was a sharp shing —a soft sword suddenly flicked out from his waist. Without any visible movement of his hand, the blade trembled, conjuring six dazzling sword blossoms before straightening with a crisp zheng , gleaming like frost under the torchlight, exuding a chilling aura.
"My apologies for the intrusion," he continued, pointing the sword tip downward. With a series of thud-thud-thuds , he carved a deep, mud-exposing groove into the stone floor. Then, seemingly from nowhere, he produced a money pouch and tossed it toward the square-faced man. "Consider this compensation for our offense—a humble offering for your brothers to enjoy a drink. We ask only for shelter tonight and will depart at dawn."
Fu Tingyun was stunned.
A Sen had mentioned that the burly man was a martial artist, but she never expected this seemingly mild-mannered merchant to be one as well. Though she knew little of martial arts, the ability to transform a soft sword into a rigid blade capable of gouging such a deep mark into stone spoke of extraordinary skill.
The square-faced man clearly recognized this too. He didn’t catch the pouch but instead stared fixedly at the freshly carved groove, his expression shifting uncertainly.
Another man stepped forward—a towering, brawny youth in his early twenties, his build comparable to the burly man in the northwest corner. Yet where the latter exuded heroic boldness, this one carried the crude air of a butcher.
He picked up the money pouch, peeked inside, and grinned.
"Big Brother!" he called out loudly before lowering his voice. "It's genuine official silver—a hundred taels!"
The hall was small enough for everyone to hear clearly.
The square-faced man’s gaze wavered, but his men erupted into murmurs.
Some whispered, "Big Brother, let’s just take them out—the silver will be ours anyway!"
Others muttered, "A hundred taels is too little—make it two or three hundred!"Others chimed in, "Big brother, since we're resting in the back rooms anyway, why not let these merchants stay in the main hall for the night?"
Fu Tingyun's mind was in turmoil.
The man had first demonstrated his martial prowess by carving a deep mark with his flexible sword, then offered a hundred taels of silver—a combination of hard and soft tactics that would likely convince the group to spare them. This put the others in the hall in a difficult position—if they tried to bribe their way out like this man, they lacked his skills; if they didn't, why would those men spare them...
Her gaze involuntarily drifted toward the burly, fierce-faced man in the southwest corner.
The man was pouring something from an iron pot into a large sea bowl on the ground, the rich aroma of meat filling the air. He looked completely unconcerned, as if this had nothing to do with him.
Fu Tingyun's heart sank.
It seemed this man also had the means to protect himself!
The thought had barely crossed her mind when the square-faced man bellowed, "Shut up, all of you!"
The clamor behind him ceased instantly.
"Since you understand some manners, I'll make an exception," the square-faced man said. "But you'll need to add another two hundred taels of silver!" His tone carried a hint of guilt and sounded somewhat tentative.
"Many thanks, many thanks!" The man who looked like a shopkeeper wore an expression of both delight and gratitude as he hastily instructed the burly man. The burly man retrieved a red-lacquered box from the small cart and took a money pouch from his robes, handing both to the shopkeeper-like man. After checking the pouch's contents, the shopkeeper-like man said something to the handsome man, who hesitated before also producing a money pouch. The shopkeeper-like man examined this pouch as well, combined the silver from both into the red-lacquered box, and then presented it to the square-faced man with a smile. "Here's the remaining two hundred taels."
Fu Tingyun's heart sank to the depths.
By putting on this show, the shopkeeper-like man made it seem like they had no more money on them, which would lessen the greed of the square-faced man's group and make them relatively safer.
The honest-looking, sturdy man took the money pouch and carefully counted its contents.
The snow-white silver gleamed with an icy sheen under the torchlight.
A thought struck Fu Tingyun.
Only official silver would be of such fine quality!
They claimed to be traveling merchants—why would they be carrying only official silver?
After all, official silver was primarily used for military pay, official salaries, palace expenses, or disaster relief. Ordinary people who obtained it would have to recast it before daring to use it... And they were carrying three hundred taels of it at once!
"Big brother!" The honest-looking man interrupted Fu Tingyun's wandering thoughts. "A full two hundred taels."
The square-faced man nodded, his expression satisfied, his demeanor returning to the arrogance he'd shown earlier when laughing heartily.
Against her better judgment, Fu Tingyun clung to a sliver of hope.
Perhaps the square-faced man, having obtained three hundred taels, would spare small fry like them. Or perhaps, recognizing the shopkeeper-like man's formidable martial skills, he wouldn't want to complicate matters and would simply ignore them...
She quietly inched backward toward where Ninth Master Zhao lay, hoping to shrink into an inconspicuous ball that wouldn't attract their attention.
Alas, her hopes were dashed.A short, stocky man suddenly rushed toward them, forcefully shoving the handcart aside and shouting, "What the hell are you lot?" His demeanor was that of a bully relying on someone else's power.
The handcart toppled over, spilling the cool bamboo mat, bowls, chopsticks, and other belongings across the ground.
Fu Tingyun let out a sigh of relief.
Thankfully, she had already hidden their valuables under Ninth Master’s straw mat when she sensed trouble brewing.
Hastily, she pleaded, "Spare us, great hero! We’re refugees from Pingliang who’ve wandered here by mistake. Please, in your mercy, allow us to stay the night." As she spoke, she retrieved a bundle containing food and a waterskin from the corner of the hall. "Please take these—they’re all we have left."
Though Fu Tingyun tried to lower her voice, its clear, melodious tone was unmistakable.
The people in the hall froze at the sound, their gazes snapping toward her.
Only the burly, rough-faced man gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head before noisily slurping from his bowl. The sound was jarringly loud in the silent hall, yet no one paid him any mind.
The stocky man’s face lit up with excitement. "Boss, there’s a woman here!" he crowed, skipping forward to yank off her headscarf.
Fu Tingyun suddenly straightened, a flash of silver gleaming in her hand as she slashed at the man.
"Ahh!" he howled, clutching his hand as blood gushed between his fingers.
Only then did the others see the dagger in Fu Tingyun’s grip.
In the firelight, the blade shimmered with strange, intricate patterns, exuding a fierce, almost bewitching beauty.
The hall fell deathly silent.
The rough-faced man’s eyes gleamed with admiration, while the carefree-looking man took a few steps forward—only to be blocked by the shopkeeper-like figure behind him.
"You damn bitch, you dare ambush me?!" the stocky man roared, raising his foot to kick Fu Tingyun square in the chest.
The carefree man gasped, fists clenching, and even the rough-faced man set down his bowl.
Fu Tingyun’s face was as pale as a magnolia in a storm. Gripping the dagger with both hands, she gritted her teeth and thrust it toward the man.
The kick landed squarely on her chest—but her dagger also plunged into the man’s calf. As she was knocked backward, the blade dragged downward, stripping a chunk of flesh from his leg.
"Boss! Boss!" the man shrieked, clutching his leg in agony.
Everyone was stunned, only noticing after a moment that two severed fingers also lay on the ground.
"Boss, kill that damn bitch!" someone behind the square-jawed man shouted, though none dared step forward.
Fu Tingyun struggled to her feet.
Her dagger-hand trembled violently, loose strands of hair falling across her snow-white face. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, and her large almond-shaped eyes burned like fire—brighter even than the torches, lending her striking beauty an unyielding ferocity, like a blooming trumpet vine, radiant and proud.
The square-jawed man stared at the dagger, still pristine as fresh snow, his expression dark as the sky before a winter storm.
He clenched his fists and advanced toward Fu Tingyun.
The hall fell utterly silent.
The heavy thud of his footsteps and the sharp crack of his knuckles echoed like war drums, each strike hammering into the onlookers’ hearts.
The burly man in the northwest corner frowned and stepped forward—only to be pulled back by the carefree man."Bitch, if I don't ride you a thousand times, I'll change my surname from Li..." The square-faced man roared with savage cruelty.
Fu Tingyun felt as if all her internal organs had been displaced by the pain. Her vision swam with overlapping shadows, barely able to make out blurred shapes.
This must be the end for her.
After that vicious kick from the man... there was no chance for any surprise attacks now...
She thought of those two kidnapped women...
With arms that felt like lead weights, she raised the dagger to her own throat.
She wondered what would become of Ninth Master after her death.
She had dragged him into this mess!
The kindness he'd shown her—she could never repay it in this lifetime. Only in the next... though perhaps even then she'd just be a burden to him again. Wouldn't he want to avoid her at all costs?
At this thought, a faint smile bloomed on her lips.
Like a tiny flower trembling in the cold wind—fragile yet tenacious.
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Editor's note: The story will be available for purchase starting May 1st. From May 1st to 7th, pink votes will count double. Reserving pink votes in advance from all sisters... O(∩_∩)O~
PS: Had guests at home today, couldn't manage an extra update.
(End of chapter)
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