Chapter Six: Aftermath

To be honest, at that moment, Ye Pei was truly enraged. After all, who could remain indifferent while watching their own brother suffer an ambush meant for them?

Feng Dongcheng would never forget the day the Master of Peihua House suppressed their two gangs. Back then, he believed his martial arts were above average, but never expected that the masked youth—whose voice suggested he was barely in his teens—could disable him with a single palm strike. Even now, surrounded by allies whose morale had been thoroughly bolstered before action, Feng Dongcheng still felt a shiver of fear when facing the Peihua Master, who stood in the darkness, exuding a murderous aura while gripping a broadsword.

“What’s wrong? Weren’t you all planning to surround and kill me? Go on, then,” Ye Pei said, raising the broadsword and letting out a cold snort. “I’m still not sure which factions you all belong to, but I’ll find out sooner or later. I must say, you’ve greatly disappointed me.”

Meng Feng realized that if no one spoke now, their coalition’s morale would be crushed entirely. Summoning his courage, he said, “Since the founding of Peihua House, you’ve ruled Shunxing City as the undisputed leader, meddling in everything. How do you think that makes us feel?”

Ye Pei’s lips curled in a mocking smile. “So that’s your grievance? Do you really think you represent the world of the martial underworld? Go out and see what the underground forces outside are like. Here, beneath the Emperor’s very nose, your skills are lacking but your arrogance knows no bounds. Since you’ve chosen this path, I won’t bother sparing your pride.”

“You think that just because you hold a few blades and clash in noisy brawls, you’re engaged in a true gang war? Let me put it plainly: you’re playing at children’s games. All the so-called factions in Shunxing City, including my own Peihua House, are second-rate at best! If I hadn’t stepped in before the authorities each time, you’d all have landed in jail for brawling by now. Do you know why real men of the underworld are arrested? Because they’ve taken lives! And you lot? Arrested for fighting? Isn’t that embarrassing? Under my leadership, you could skirt the law a bit, indulge your vanity in an occasional scuffle, but nothing more. Surround and kill me? First, you’re incapable of it; and even if you managed, you couldn’t bear the consequences.”

“You know nothing! However we run things, it’s our business!” Feng Dongcheng all but screamed.

“Is that so? Very well, let’s say I’m in the wrong,” Ye Pei replied with a faint smile, drawing the broadsword closer. “In any case, I never intended to let you leave here alive. To severely injure my brother is unforgivable!”

With that, Ye Pei strode towards the crowd, blade in hand.

“Damn it, this is too much! Get him!” Feng Dongcheng tried to shout away his fear, rallying his men to charge at Ye Pei.

This was the first time Ye Pei unleashed such carnage within Shunxing City. In the sky, thick clouds gathered as the battle raged, soon obscuring the crescent moon, as if even the heavens could not bear witness to the slaughter.

...

When the men of Peihua House arrived, they found only corpses strewn across the ground.

“Swallow your disgust,” Ye Pei said, still simmering with anger. “Clean up this place—by whatever means necessary. I don’t want a trace of what happened here left by morning.” As Ye Pei spoke, the broadsword vanished with a flick at the waist.

None of them had ever seen Ye Pei in such a state. They dared not make a sound, suppressing the urge to retch as they nodded repeatedly and watched Ye Pei leave with Yue Zhe.

The next day.

Alan entered Yue Zhe’s bedroom with lunch in his hands, bowing respectfully. “Brother Zhe, are you able to eat?”

Yue Zhe smiled. “It’s nothing serious, just a few knife wounds. Bring it here.” He sat up slowly and began eating the stewed lamb and bread.

Though Alan was nominally Ye Pei’s page—a servant—Ye Pei never treated him as such, and Yue Zhe and Alan shared a friendly rapport.

“Say, Alan,” Yue Zhe said after swallowing a mouthful, “that lightness skill Ye Pei used to save me last night was astonishing. I never got to see it during our matches.” The sight of Ye Pei flying nearly thirty meters through the air to rescue him had left Yue Zhe deeply shaken.

Alan replied, “Ah, you haven’t seen it, but the young master’s greatest strength is his lightness skill. And there are other secret arts he hasn’t even shown you yet.”

“Really…? I consider my own lightness skill to be top-tier. How much better is he…?” Yue Zhe asked cautiously.

Alan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Brother Zhe, if your lightness skill counts as ‘expert,’ then the world of lightness masters must be overflowing with experts,” he quipped.

Yue Zhe nearly choked on his food. Regaining his composure, he retorted, “If you want to insult me, at least say ‘experts as common as clouds.’”

Alan replied, “Well, do you think there are more clouds in the sky or dung on the ground?”

“…” Yue Zhe was left speechless, taking a deep breath.

Alan stood, saying, “Brother Zhe, you really shouldn’t be too confident when it comes to lightness skills.”

With that, Alan opened the window, leaped out, and, before touching the ground, tapped his left foot lightly atop his right, floating sideways through the air.

Stunned by this feat, Yue Zhe heard Alan’s parting words: “My martial arts may be mediocre, and my lightness skill nothing special, but at least I learned directly from the young master…”

A furious gasp sounded in Yue Zhe’s room.

When Ye Pei brought Yue Zhe back late at night, few people noticed—only Yue Yuncheng realized it. After checking Yue Zhe’s wounds, he gave him a resounding slap on the injury: “Just flesh wounds, nothing serious, son! Get some rest!”

Ye Pei should have come to see Yue Zhe as well, but was occupied with other matters at the time.

On the second floor of Peihua House, in a private room:

“Gentlemen, I hope you can offer me a satisfactory solution,” Ye Pei said, lightly twirling a dagger and smiling at the trembling dozen before him.

By now, Ye Pei’s anger had mostly subsided. He had killed many in a fit of rage the previous night, but Yue Zhe’s injuries were not as grave as feared. Summoning these people was not meant as a prelude to further bloodshed.

Yet none of the gang leaders dared utter a word, terrified of being cut down by the Peihua Master.

Ye Pei continued, “No one wants to speak? Then I’ll say it myself.”

“Your attempt to kill me may have failed, but injuring my brother has enraged me,” Ye Pei said, pausing. Some dared to look up at him, only to quickly lower their heads in fear.

“If I were to demand compensation, frankly, even the combined assets of your dozen gangs wouldn’t interest me.” This was no lie. It wasn’t that General Ye’s salary was so grand, but rather that Ye Pei’s maternal grandfather, Old Lord Huang Cang, owned over thirty farms and ranches, making him truly wealthy. As the heir to both the Ye and Huang families, Ye Pei had no need for money.

The gang leaders grew even more anxious. If money wasn’t what he wanted, what else could he be after but their lives?

“Still, I admit I was a bit heavy-handed last night. I imagine you’re all grieving your losses.” In truth, these gangs were pitifully weak. Determined to kill the Peihua Master, they had sent all their capable men, none of whom returned. “Grieving” hardly described it; they were utterly devastated.

“Judging by your faces, I can see that’s true. So, since last night went as it did, I won’t kill you today. Here’s my proposal.”

“From now on, stay out of Shunxing City’s underground affairs. Since I’ve heard of no major feuds among you, I assume you have no great enemies. If you do, tell me now.”

Some gang leaders sighed in relief; others tensed up, exclaiming, “Master, do you mean we must disband our gangs?”

Those slower on the uptake realized as much: staying out of the underground meant disbanding.

“You can see it that way. But you don’t need to dissolve completely—just change your nature. Cease all illicit dealings. Stop selling Five-Stone Powder immediately.”

(A note: Five-Stone Powder was originally a Han Dynasty remedy for malaria. Its recipe, lost to time, was said to be a mix of five minerals ground to powder. Wei Yan once claimed, “Taking Five-Stone Powder not only cures illness but also clears the mind.” Because of its intense effects, those who took it had to rest outdoors or walk to dissipate the heat, after which they felt invigorated. No wonder scholars flocked to it. Long-term use, however, made the skin delicate and soft. To those aware of its dangers, it was the true “Six Dynasties narcotic.” Sun Simiao of the Tang Dynasty described it as “highly toxic.”)

“But, Master, we don’t know how to do any other business…”

“I’ve already considered that. Your businesses will operate under the Peihua House name, but otherwise remain your own,” Ye Pei replied.

“Taverns?” someone asked.

“Exactly. Don’t worry if you lack skills, I’ll send people to teach you. Twenty percent of your monthly profits come to me. Don’t complain—it’s the price for trying to kill me. Stay out of the underworld from now on.” Ye Pei set the dagger on the table. “That’s all. I have matters to attend to.”

With a wave, Ye Pei swiftly departed the Peihua House.

Within the organization, apart from Alan, no one knew the Master’s true identity. On their first day in the underworld, everyone met a black-clad, veiled figure. Although many, having been recruited from the Ye Army, suspected a connection to the Ye family, none could be certain.

At the Ye residence.

Yue Zhe lay in bed, assessing his wounds and recalling the battle of the previous night. Many masters of the “pulse sense” had experienced such moments—sometimes during training, sometimes in emergencies—when a mysterious power surged within. Each felt it differently: some sensed coolness, others heat. For Ye Pei, it was warmth and calm; for Yue Zhe, it was swiftness and lightness.

Many had tried to understand this phenomenon, but its nature remained elusive. When Ye Pei was young, he once sent Alan flying through two walls with a palm; it was thanks to this power that he could leap skyward to catch Ye Feilian as she fell from the heavens.

Yue Zhe carefully recalled the blade he’d swung, gleaming with blue light, and wanted to summon that inner power to experiment. But just then—

“Aunt Yue! Do you know where my mother is?” That clear, piercing voice rang out, startling Yue Zhe.

Before he could react, the young girl burst in, seeing him in bed and the medicine bowl on the table.

“Oh no, Aunt Yue, what happened to you?”

Yue Zhe panicked, thinking, “Heavens, I can’t let her know I’m hurt! What do I do…? Wait, I’ve got it!”

At that critical moment, the power within him surged. Seizing the idea, Yue Zhe channeled it to his stomach.

“Ugh… I… ugh… ate something bad last night… ugh… cough!”