Chapter 36: Hundred-Stone Bow, the God of Slaughter Arrives

Chapter 36: The Hundred-Stone Bow, the God of Slaughter Arrives

At first, the moment everyone saw Ning Xishi in this outfit, they had a sinking feeling.

Wasn't the Gang Leader of the Jule Gang supposed to be a good-for-nothing young man? Are young people really this strong these days? Taking on twenty-seven arena challenges single-handedly and winning all twenty-seven matches?

Someone refused to buy it: "The person a few days ago was in disguise, and now this gang leader is wearing a mask—who knows if it's the same person. Let me go test the waters first—"

With that, he jumped onto the arena stage.

Ning Xishi felt that fighting was nothing special—just practice makes perfect.

After blasting the man off the stage in three moves, Ning Xishi continued standing with his arms crossed: "Who else? Come on up."

The man who had been the first to be thrown off could clearly tell that the young man had held back on that final punch—it was just to push him back, with no intention of hurting him.

From below the stage, he cupped his fists: "Thank you, Gang Leader, for going easy on me. I, Zhao San, am completely convinced. This Martial Arts Alliance Leader title is yours, no question about it."

The man's quick change of heart boosted Ning Xishi's standing even more in everyone's eyes, and most were now more than half convinced he was indeed the mysterious unknown person from before.

As a result, after standing on stage for the entire morning, only a handful of three to five people came to challenge him.

Ning Xishi had to defend the arena for four days and didn't want to exhaust himself, so he focused on quick wins, taking down every opponent in three moves or less. Then he'd just stand there, enjoying the breeze and looking off into the distance.

He had to admit Ming Hanche had a point about speaking from high places—the view really was better.

He just wondered how General Xie was doing on his end. On one hand, he had to keep the Ningzhou prefect from getting suspicious, keeping up the illusion that the four hundred cavalry were still in camp. On the other, he had to tunnel through mountains and dig tunnels to catch Ming Hanche off guard.

What's more, General Xie couldn't walk—a further blow to the plan's execution.

While Ning Xishi fretted over Xie Jingxing's progress, Xie Jingxing was thinking about Ning Xishi as well.

Doing the math, it had been seventeen or eighteen days since they'd last seen each other.

In the porcelain bottle at Xie Jingxing's chest were two pills that could let him stand and walk like a normal person for a short time.

He'd never used those two pills, saving them for the final confrontation with Ming Hanche—just in case.

That Ming Hanche held a deadly secret against his Young Master Ning, and he absolutely couldn't let the man slip away.

Qiu Changyu had already rejoined Xie Jingxing, bringing back not only the four hundred cavalry but also secretly borrowing three thousand infantry from an old comrade. However, his old friend said these troops were only for deterrence—the infantry couldn't actually fight.

After all, soldiers in the army had to have orders to leave their garrison, otherwise it would be considered rebellion.

Fortunately, Ming Hanche had chosen a location at the Ningzhou border, not far from Chuzhou, the neighboring prefecture. The Chuzhou army stood at the Chuzhou boundary, banging their spears and blades together—a formidable threat to the martial artists as well.

When Xie Jingxing had first come up with this plan, Qiu Changyu thought it was brilliant and immediately praised: "The General truly rivals Zhuge Wuhou in wisdom—this is like borrowing arrows with straw boats, being besieged on all sides."

Xie Jingxing thought to himself that "besieged on all sides" was from Xiang Yu's defeat at Gaixia.

Qiu Changyu was about to head out to borrow troops when he thought of something and turned back: "General, with all these people we're borrowing, are we really planning to take out all the martial artists? I mean, they're a bit unruly, but some of them are real heroes..."

Are we really going to take it this far—slaughtering innocents—just to secure the Dog Emperor's throne?

Xie Jingxing didn't answer, just giving Qiu Changyu a brief glance. Qiu Changyu immediately understood—his general wasn't that kind of blindly loyal. He chuckled and went off to take care of business.

As subordinates, everyone secretly wished their leader would one day put on the yellow robe, so they wouldn't have to worry about running out of supplies in battle or being held back by eunuch overseers.

It was just a pity that the general had endured humiliation all these years with no apparent intention of doing so.

And in human interactions, when you give an inch, they take a mile. They never feel guilty about your concessions—they just think, "You tolerated that, so why can't you tolerate more?"

Watching the emperor grow increasingly aggressive, even assigning a playboy as the general's husband—it was like grinding the general's dignity beneath their heels.

Qiu Changyu had been waiting for an order, a chance, a turning point.

He'd sent out several feelers before, but the general had always deflected them, intentionally or not.

Only this time, Qiu Changyu suddenly sensed a crack in the general's armor.

In the distance, the faint sound of an impressive wind could be heard.

·

The martial arts alliance tournament was in full swing, and before they knew it, the final day had arrived.

That morning, Ning Xishi wasn't woken by the clamor of martial artists outside but by movement beneath the ground.

It sounded like someone was using a shovel to knock against the earth beneath his feet from below.

'Tap tap tap—tap tap—tap tap tap tap—tap.'

It was rhythmic and very faint—only someone with Ning Xishi's internal energy, actively straining to discern it, could hear it clearly.

The sound repeated twice, and Ning Xishi, who had been half-asleep, was now fully awake. He immediately smashed a cup as a response.

From the neighboring tent, Guardian Ye heard the commotion and asked at once: "Gang Leader, has something happened?"

"I was just drinking tea and accidentally dropped my cup. Nothing's wrong."

"Be careful then—don't step on the shards and cut your foot." Guardian Ye said, directing someone to sweep the area for Ning Xishi.

Once the tent fell silent again, Ning Xishi coughed, and the other side immediately responded with a 'tap tap' sound, equally faint.

This was the signal he and General Xie had agreed upon—meaning it was safe to continue digging upward until the tunnel broke through.

There had been no word all these days, and Ning Xishi had been worried. Now, a great weight had finally lifted from his heart.

It was still early, not yet time for the matches. The people below seemed to know the hour and stopped their activity.

After all, they were very close to the surface now—continuing to dig upward would easily alert others.

Only during the matches, when everyone gathered at the arena and enough guards remained here, could they continue.

Ning Xishi was now completely at ease. Before long, he headed out to the matches in high spirits.

·

On the final day of the tournament—the white-hot stage of the Martial Arts Alliance Leader competition—Ming Hanche, who hadn't appeared all along, was also seated on the high platform, a rare sight.

Ning Xishi looked up at him from below, thinking that this Old Master Ming really didn't fear trouble at his age. Sitting that high up—if he accidentally fell, he'd break bones and tendons.

But the old master's presence was certainly imposing. Even now, with Ning Xishi having nearly won all his matches, many people below were still saying—

"I say Ming the Master should be the Martial Arts Alliance Leader. Even if a kid has high martial arts skill, I won't accept him."

"Exactly. Old ginger is always spicier. Older people have vision and experience—they're bound to be better than some kid."

"Those Beggar Gang people just spoil their children. A bunch of old folks, yet they hoist a kid up to the Gang Leader position. If this kid didn't have that title, he'd never have earned the Martial Arts Alliance Leader seat either."

If this were back in the capital, Young Master Ning would've already marched up there to argue—and probably thrown a punch too.

But here at the competition, Young Master Ning just found it funny. These guys didn't dare step up on stage to test him, so all they could do was run their mouths behind his back.

Ning Xishi couldn't be bothered to deal with these people, but others stepped up to fight for his reputation.

"What are you guys talking about? The Young Chief's moves have this rare, knightly spirit to them. Having the Young Chief as our Alliance Leader is a godsend for the martial arts world!"

"Exactly! The Gang Leader knocked me off that stage with one punch, and I was sold. When you go toe-to-toe with someone, you can really see what they're made of. The Young Chief's got true grit and a loyal heart! I'm telling you, he's the one who should be our Alliance Leader!"

"And that's not all—look at what the Beggar Gang used to be. All tattered and starving, some of them even scrapping with monks over scraps. Now look at 'em—living the good life!"

"I'm with you on that. Stick with the Alliance Leader, and there's meat on the table."

"Damn right! Our Alliance Leader's a once-in-a-millennium genius!"

Up on the high platform, Ming Hanche's expression went from pleased to sour, and finally black as the bottom of a pot. His advisor, standing just below him, looked concerned and asked, "Master?"

"Forget it. I figured his reputation as a good-for-nothing was so loud that he'd never win anyone over. I never expected him to disguise himself and crash the tournament, carving out his own way to win supporters." Ming Hanche sighed.

"Everything he has, he owes to you, Master. You gave it all to him. Without you, he's nothing." The advisor quickly tried to console him.

"See? Even you're trying to comfort me—that just proves we really messed up." A sharp glint flashed in Ming Hanche's old eyes. "I built this stage, sure, but he's the one who stole the show. Even if we tore the whole thing down now, he'd still come out on top."

The advisor opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Because they both knew Old Master Ming was right.

By now, Ning Xishi had won himself a good deal of respect and supporters. He was no longer just the Young Chief known for running away.

The advisor quickly added, "That said, we still hold the deed to his soul. As long as we've got a grip on his weakness, he can never walk off our stage."

A sudden pang of unease hit Ming Hanche. "Then we'd better hold onto that weakness tight. We can't afford to lose the bait and the catch with it."

It was high noon, and the sun was blazing down hard. Sitting up on the platform, Ming Hanche looked up at the sun and suddenly caught a glimpse of something dark and massive out of the corner of his eye.

He'd picked these peaks himself—easy to defend, hard to attack. Aside from the jagged rocks, even rats couldn't climb up there. So how the hell was there something dark and massive up there?

When the advisor noticed Ming Hanche had gone quiet for too long, he followed his gaze.

A moment later, Ming Hanche heard the advisor shout in a panic: "Master, it's the soldiers! It's the Chuzhou Army!"

Ming Hanche thought to himself that he really was getting old—he couldn't even read the characters on those soldiers' chests...

The next instant, his arm trembled in shock, and three words fell from his aged lips, his tone filled with disbelief: "The Chuzhou Army?"

Why would the Chuzhou Army be here?

How had they appeared out of thin air?

Just then, the soldiers on the mountain blew their horns—loud and stirring, carrying an unstoppable momentum of attack.

Nearly all the martial artists below panicked. They looked up and saw themselves completely surrounded. The soldiers on the mountain each held ten-stone bows, their sharp arrowheads reflecting the sunlight with a chilling, bloody gleam.

At the same time, the young man at the lead rode on horseback, a hundred-stone bow in hand. The more well-informed martial artists shouted in alarm—

"A hundred-stone bow! It's General Xie! It's the God of Slaughter, General Xie!"

Ming Hanche felt a chill run through his entire body. The young man he had nearly placed under house arrest just days ago now stood behind him with countless soldiers, surrounding him on the mountainside, arrows aimed straight at his face.

"General! General, there must be some misunderstanding between us. Let's talk, General!"