Chapter 48: Vengeance of the Pugilists

Chapter 48: Vengeance of the Pugilists

There was a stormy rain which caused the roads to be flooded within an hour. Slowly, the rain grew lighter, but appeared to be becoming more sustained, and likely to continue throughout the night. A group of people who sought shelter at the official waystation[1] were trapped.

Yang Feng sat in the room. The door was wide open, but he paid no attention to the rain being blown in. There was no way he could get on the road that day, and could only wait till the next day. He hoped that he would be in time.

Why did the fate seer Chunyu Qiong sneak into the Capital? That would be the most dangerous place for him. And what did “aura of a new Emperor” mean? Did Chunyu Qiong find a new target to incite? Thinking things through, Yang Feng felt like there was only one possibility.

A commotion could be heard from the outside. Even though the rain was loud, the shouts could still be heard.

Four followers were in the same room as Yang Feng. One of them threw a glance at Yang Feng and went out into the rain. Soon, he returned. He bowed and said, “Three farmhands wish to enter wish to enter the station to seek shelter but were refused by the station chief. Hence, the commotion.”

Yang Feng grunted in acknowledgement but did not pay the matter much thought. The follower was about to return to his position when Yang Feng changed his mind. “Summon them in.”

“Yes.” Yang Feng’s followers were trusted followers whom he had groomed personally. They obeyed his every word, and never asked unnecessary questions.

Before long, there farmhands approached with the follower in the rain. They stood by the door, not daring to enter.

The three of them had very varied ages. The oldest was in his sixties, and was thin as a bag of bones but had a bloated stomach. He was barefoot, his pants were rolled up, and his hands held a straw hat. He smiled, nodded and bowed at the lord in the room. “Mercy, my lord. The rain is too heavy and we could not continue our journey. We had no choice but to come here seeking shelter, and did not intend to disturb Your Lordship.”

There was another man in his thirties. He was tan and muscular, wearing straw sandals and also had a straw hat in his hand. He bowed his head low and did not speak. It seemed like he was afraid of officials.

The last person was a youth in his teens. He remained half-hidden behind the muscular man.

Yang Feng observed the three men for a while before saying, “Since you seek shelter, you may enter.”

The old man bowed profusely but remained at the door. He did not dare be too close to an official. The teen hid himself even more.

Yang Feng asked, “Elder, how old are you?”

“To answer my lord’s question, I am 53 this year. I look older than I am since I am a lowly person who is always exposed to the weather.” The old man took a bow after every sentence.

“You all are from the local village?”

“Yes, my lord. We have lived here since the time of our ancestors and have never left.”

“How far are we from Hangu Gate?”

“About half a day’s journey.”

Yang Feng went silent for a while. “Is there a custom here of travelling by horse?”

The old man laughed. “No, my lord, only important people get to ride horses. People like us would be lucky to ride a mule. Usually, we walk with our own two feet.”

“That’s strange. It takes half a day to get to Hangu Gate from here, but that is on horseback. How would you know that it’s a half day’s journey?”

The old man nodded even more profusely. “Even though this old man is not lucky enough to ride horses, but I have heard from others that that is how long it would take. My lord would surely ride a horse, so I said half a day’s journey. If one were to walk, one would have to get up before dawn. Even rushing the entire day, one would only reach the gate when it is dark. At that time, the gate would be closed and entry forbidden.”

Yang Feng nodded and turned his gaze to the person beside the old man. “That dark fellow, what’s your name?”

“Only thirteen of you.” Yang Feng shook his head. “You set up an ambush outside Hangu Gate, intending to mount a sneak attack. But this heavy rain foiled your plans, so the three of you disguised yourselves as farmhands to investigate matters.”

“Since you already know, we have nothing more to say. Zhao You had plenty of friends. You may kill us today, but there will be others who will avenge him.” Du Motian turned and looked at his grandson. “And there will be those who avenge us.”

“Of course. I will wait for a month.” Yang Feng took a cup of tea from a follower and took a light sip. “But tea goes cold when the person is gone. One month later, you would just be yet another story for others to tell. In the story, I would be a shameless bad guy, while you would be a righteous hero. And that, would be the extent of the vengeance exacted on your behalf.”

Du Motian grew more shocked the more he heard Yang Feng speak. “What... Who even are you?”

Yang Feng did not answer. A follower entered from the outside, drenched. He spoke softly, “Lord Yang, that person is here.”

“Are you sure it is him?” Yang Feng asked.

“I saw him with my own eyes.”

Yang Feng stood up and said to Du Motian, “This rain ruined your ambush, and also nearly foiled my plans. But I am luckier than you. Do you really believe that someone from the pugilist world can reach the heavens with his hands?”[3]

Du Motian did not understand what Yang Feng was saying. “Don’t be smug. You have not passed Hangu Gate, nor have you reached the Capital.”

Yang Feng strode towards the exit of the room. He stopped at the doorway and said, “Keep them here for one night, and wait for the other ten men to rescue them. If they come, that is.”

Yang Feng left the room, and a follower immediately opened an umbrella to shelter him.

The sky grew dark and the rain had lightened. The courtyard was flooded a foot-deep, and Yang Feng waded through the water. He was guided by another follower, and there was nobody else by his side.

The waystation had received a new batch of new guests. They were military officers draped in armor. There were not many of them, just twenty, and they had obviously been hurrying through the rain. The were drenched, and rainwater could be seen flowing down from their armor.

The war with Qi was recently over, yet now war loomed in the north. It was common for military messengers to make their way to the Capital, so the station chief was not surprised to see those officers. He was busy making arrangements for their lodgings and for their horses.

Yang Feng walked to a room, where many soldiers stood on guard, their hands on their blades. They watched Yang Feng coldly. Even though they knew he was a eunuch, they paid him no respect.

Yang Feng clasped fists and said, “Please report that Palace Attendant Yang Feng wishes to see Grand Tutor Cui.”

The color on the soldiers’ faces turned sharply. One of them said, “There is no...”

Someone came out from the room and shut the soldier up with a glance. He said to Yang Feng, “Greetings, Lord Yang, how have you been?”

Indeed, it was Grand Tutor Cui Hong. Yang Feng nerves which had been on edge finally calmed down a little. He did not care about vengeance from the pugilist world, but his mind was completely occupied by Chunyu Qiong and Cui Hong. Now, he finally caught up to one of them in time.

“I have been waiting here for some time. I wish to say a few words to you, Grand Tutor. If you are willing to listen, then we may yet be able to return to the Capital in peace. If you are not —”

“Then what?”

“Then blood shall be spilled here and now.”

[1] These official waystations were placed at strategic spots around ancient China, mainly to provide a rest-stop for officials on the move or messengers who had permission to use these waystations.

[2] This is a play on Du Motian’s name. Mo-tian literally means touching the heavens, so Yang Feng says ironically that he cannot touch the heavens.

[3] This is still a play on Du Motian’s name, but with the added meaning that heaven also refers to the imperial court/palace/Emperor, and the pugilist world is lowly compared to the imperial court/palace/Emperor. So Yang Feng is wondering, can someone from the pugilist world really have such reach as to affect imperial politics or the Emperor himself? And here it is important to know that “pugilist world” or Jianghu, does not just include pugilist fighters, but also “caster-type” characters like wandering daoists, alchemists, fengshui masters, and yes, fortune tellers/fate seers.

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