Chapter 47: Warriors and Battle

Li Jinguo stood up, took a few steps, and stopped before the door leading out of the living room. Gazing into the shadows ahead, he called out in a clear voice, “Since you’re here, friend, what’s the point of hiding in the dark? Why not come out and show yourself?”

Yet now, he dared not advance any further. The enemy was hidden while he was exposed. If his opponent was lying in wait within the darkness, he would surely be at a disadvantage.

“What’s wrong? Or are you some petty figure who skulks in the shadows, afraid to meet me face to face?” Li Jinguo tried to provoke him.

Li Yinshui and Li Yinshu trailed behind Li Jinguo cautiously, their eyes also probing the darkness, but they saw no sign of anyone. Of course, they trusted what their leader, Li Jinguo, had said.

In the darkness, it seemed as if the shadows rippled briefly.

A man wearing a mask of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven emerged from the gloom, holding in his hand what looked like a child’s toy—the golden hoop staff.

The darkness pooled at his feet, shrouding him in an air of mystery.

Shen Ye had planned to lie hidden in the dark, lying in wait for his prey, but now that he had been discovered, he saw no reason not to reveal himself. No matter what tricks his opponent might have, he was confident he could crush them.

Li Jinguo scrutinized Shen Ye seriously before barking, “Which faction are you from? The Ten Sects of the Martial World? Which one do you belong to?”

“The Ten Sects of the Martial World?” Shen Ye frowned, wondering to himself what on earth that meant. Weren’t such things only found in martial arts novels? Did they actually exist in reality?

“With the riverbanks singing and the lotus falling, I am an Elder of the Beggars’ Sect, Blue Banner, under Branch Master Cha of the Guangzhou division. And you, sir? Show your hand, reveal your background.” Li Jinguo cupped his fist, formally declaring his affiliation.

In this world, those who practiced martial arts were exceedingly rare.

That rarity made them all the more precious.

Because of this, the martial world was not a place where every meeting led to a deadly brawl. Often, there was room for negotiation. Only when talk failed did violence ensue.

Reaching the doorway, Li Jinguo had already caught the scent of blood and realized that his four subordinates were most likely dead. But losing a few men was no great matter; such underlings were easily replaced. Even Li Tiehan and Li Tietou, who also bore the surname Li, were nothing more than fellow villagers.

“Riverbanks singing, lotus falling? Is that your code? How peculiar. Unfortunately, I’m not affiliated with any of your so-called Ten Sects,” Shen Ye replied with a shake of his head.

“Not one of the Ten Sects?” Li Jinguo was momentarily puzzled, staring straight at Shen Ye. “Then perhaps you belong to some other minor sect?”

“I don’t belong to your martial world at all,” Shen Ye sneered. “I’m here to kill you. All human traffickers deserve to die.”

Hearing that Shen Ye had no grasp of martial codes, Li Jinguo sneered as well. “I don’t care whether you truly don’t understand or are just pretending. So, there’s no room for negotiation?”

“Indeed, there isn’t,” Shen Ye replied firmly. “A man must have principles. And one of mine is that human traffickers must die!”

“Such a pity then. In that case, you can go to hell!” Li Jinguo’s expression became instantly vicious.

His chest was adorned with a strange and discordant bag—the mark of a Beggars’ Sect Elder. At that moment, his hand moved, and something dropped from the pouch into his palm. With a flick of his wrist, he cast a cloud of white powder straight at Shen Ye—quicklime.

The Beggars’ Sect, throughout history, had always differed from other factions.

The majority of its members were beggars.

Beggars had little concern for honor or appearances. They fought to win, employing every dirty trick they could.

Thus, they had invented all manner of bizarre tactics. For example, one move in the Beggars’ Staff Technique involved splattering food onto the enemy with a stick, covering them in greasy filth and hampering their ability to fight.

Many Beggars’ Sect members carried quicklime in their pockets. When faced with a formidable enemy, they would hurl the powder directly at them.

If the opponent’s eyes were open, the lime would blind them temporarily. If shut, they still couldn’t see.

In battle, vision was of paramount importance. Once deprived of sight, the consequences were dire.

After scattering the quicklime, Li Jinguo charged straight at Shen Ye. Without waiting to see the result, he drew a gleaming blade about a meter long and swung it at Shen Ye.

It was a horizontal slash.

Not only did Li Jinguo use the strength of his arms, but he also channeled the momentum of his charge and the torque from his waist, amplifying his power well beyond his usual strength.

The arc of the blade flashed like lightning—aimed to cut right through the waist, a single blow to cleave a man in two.

Such swordsmanship was far beyond the reach of ordinary men.

Compared to the showier, more intricate Plum Blossom Sabre techniques of Du Wenfeng, this strike was simpler, faster, and far more deadly.

If this blow landed, it would slice a grown man clean in half.

Years ago, while operating in Vietnam, Li Jinguo had used this very move to cleave in two a man reputed to be the number one enforcer of a notorious Hong Kong drug gang, spraying blood and entrails across the ground.

Li Jinguo knew his opponent was formidable, but if the quicklime hit first, followed by this slash, even if it didn’t kill the masked stranger, it would surely incapacitate him.

Li Jinguo was a man of the martial world and always carried a blade. When he realized something was amiss after Liu San, Wang Ping, Li Tietou, and Li Tiehan failed to return, he’d discreetly armed himself.

First the quicklime, forcing Shen Ye to close his eyes, then the dazzling arc of his blade—Li Jinguo had driven Shen Ye into a perilous dead end.

This was the first true martial artist Shen Ye had encountered, utterly different from the likes of Du Wenfeng, who, though skilled among mortals, were ultimately ordinary men.

He did not strike lightly—but when he did, it was with ruthless, deadly force, seeking to vanquish Shen Ye in the very first instant.

Moreover, his attack was so swift that Shen Ye had no time to react or even to think.