Martial Sovereign of the Turbulent World

Chapter 172: Chapter 170: The Big Picture, Xuanwu Platform

The new year was approaching, and stalls selling holiday goods had already started popping up on the streets of the old city. They sold narcissus, wintersweet, nandina, and other "New Year’s Offerings."

Many shops on Four Nations Avenue had also begun pasting red paper signs reading "Clearance Sale" outside their doors. Rent collectors, debt collectors... rickshaws zipped all over the streets, and even the lights of the dance halls and theaters stayed on later with each passing day.

But the recent buzz in Shenghai wasn’t just due to the growing festive spirit. At the cusp of the eleventh and twelfth lunar months, the shocking Martial Arts Association massacre and the subsequent, explosive challenge at Xuanwu Platform had given the common folk in teahouses and taverns plenty to talk about.

Shenghai, Hua Realm, Dingsheng Restaurant.

This century-old, time-honored restaurant was famous for two signature dishes, "Braised Sea Cucumber with Shrimp Roe" and "Sautéed Crab Roe Butter," as well as the freshly made, fragrant "Eight Treasure Rice" they started selling at the entrance as soon as the twelfth lunar month began.

Inside the restaurant’s main hall, the air was thick with a cacophony of sounds—drinking games, opera singing, storytelling, waiters calling out orders... It was a picture of bustling, chaotic prosperity.

"Sautéed shrimp, Yan Du Xian, braised pork knuckle... Esteemed guests, all your dishes have been served. Please, enjoy your meal."

At a square table for eight in the corner of the hall sat three people: a man and two women.

The man was about thirty, with handsome, square-jawed features. He wore a black trench coat and a white scarf, his refined and dashing appearance tinged with the air of the martial world.

The man in the trench coat was currently speaking in a low voice, briefing the two women at his table.

"...Around New Year’s Eve, Mr. Mingyi should be arriving in Shenghai. Arrange for manpower; you will accompany me to receive him..."

"I still don’t understand. If it’s just to meet with the representatives from the Southeast Provinces, there are so many other places he could go. Why must it be in Shenghai, a veritable dragon’s lair and tiger’s den?"

Tang Nianzhen, sitting across from the man, couldn’t help but speak up.

Having survived a life-or-death escape and severe injuries, Tang Nianzhen had lost her sharp edge. She seemed much more mature and composed, though her face still held the pallor of a recent, serious illness.

"Perhaps... it’s to let the representatives see for themselves what Chinese land under the Westerners’ jurisdiction truly looks like."

The man in the trench coat picked out a few slices of glistening winter bamboo shoots from the Yan Du Xian and gently placed them in Tang Nianzhen’s bowl.

Tang Nianzhen frowned. "But isn’t this too risky? What if something happens to Mr. Mingyi..."

"How can one achieve great things without taking risks?"

The man’s gaze was calm as he said faintly, "Mr. Mingyi’s reputation and status still stand, after all. The people who overthrew the former dynasty with him aren’t all dead yet... If the Xin Republic’s Government doesn’t want to risk universal condemnation, they won’t dare to do anything to him, at least not openly."

He paused for a moment before continuing, "But your worries aren’t unfounded.

With the chaos in the Southwest yet to be quelled, and the remnants of the old dynasty stirring up trouble with the northern armies, the Xin Republic’s Government is at its wits’ end. At a critical juncture like this, they absolutely will not allow any more waves to be made in the south. If it comes down to it, they might just get desperate and do something crazy...

In fact, we’re already seeing signs of it. Huaisuang is the best example."

As he spoke, the man in the trench coat sighed softly and downed the cup of wine before him.

"Huaisuang..."

Hearing this name, a complicated and worried look flickered in Tang Nianzhen’s eyes. She couldn’t help but ask, "How is Huaisuang now?"

"She’s been settled in the Purple Cloud Temple on Purple Cloud Mountain, just outside Shenghai. A high monk from Wen Zhiqiu’s side named Huai Kong is watching over her, so she’s perfectly safe for the time being..."

The man in the trench coat lowered his voice. "Actually, besides meeting with the representatives from the Southeast Provinces, the main reason Mr. Mingyi insists on coming to Shenghai personally is to completely win over Wen Zhiqiu!"

Tang Nianzhen was taken aback.

"...Wen Zhiqiu has been the mayor of Shenghai City for so many years. He has significant connections and prestige, both in and out of government.

If we can win him over, our chances of success will increase by thirty percent.

Mr. Mingyi knows this trip is dangerous, yet he insists on coming. First, to show his sincerity to Wen Zhiqiu, and second... this is, without a doubt, the best time to win him over."

"Wen Zhiqiu..."

Tang Nianzhen’s eyes flickered, and she bit her lip gently. "A few months ago, he was helping the Westerners arrest our people on a massive scale... Can this man really be trusted?"

"He is in that position, after all. There are some acts he has no choice but to perform for his superiors.

But... I’m afraid he won’t be able to keep up the act for much longer."

The man in the trench coat picked up the wine pot on the table and slowly poured himself a cup. "Once Nan Xiangcheng, who’s hiding in the Jianghai Defense Command, and that old fox Luo Zhengxiong have fully come to an agreement, the Xin Republic’s Government’s blade will be poised to fall on him.

Wen Zhiqiu must be well aware of this himself. But although he seems inclined to side with us now, his attitude remains ambiguous. He probably wants to meet Mr. Mingyi in person before making his final decision."

Tang Nianzhen nodded slowly. All this political maneuvering was still a bit too complicated for her.

At that moment, the man in the trench coat turned his gaze to the woman who had been silent the entire time and began, "Tang Jing, you..."

Before he could finish, the woman—who had exquisite makeup and a cold, stunning beauty—slapped the newspaper in her hand onto the table with a THWACK. She sneered, her displeasure obvious. "As long as you can keep all these relationships straight yourself, there’s no need to ask me.

Right now, all I want is to see how that brat makes a fool of himself tomorrow."

The headline of the newspaper she had slapped on the table read in bold letters: [Qinglian Gang Faces Life and Death Barrier, Chairman Wu’s Sword Points to Young Master Zhang!]

Below it was a photograph of a handsome young man in a sharp suit.

Tang Nianzhen recognized the man in the photo, her pupils contracting almost imperceptibly. It was clearly the same person she had encountered when she fled to Zhabei with Li Huaisuang.

The man in the trench coat glanced at the newspaper and gave a wry smile. "You’re still holding a grudge over him kicking you?"

"What do you think?"

Tang Jing’s pretty face was frosted with anger, and she subconsciously touched her lower abdomen.

She would remember that kick for the rest of her life—unless he stood before her and let her pay him back ten, even a hundred times over.

"...The challenge is set for tomorrow."

The man in the trench coat tapped his knuckles lightly on the table. After a moment of thought, he said, "Lately, Ding Moshan of the Qinglian Gang has been recruiting fighters everywhere, looking for Assistance for the challenge.

Behind Zhao Jigang is Luo Zhengxiong’s son, Luo Chengying... Since we’re free tomorrow anyway, I’ll go with you to watch the show."

Tang Jing snorted but said nothing. She just picked up her chopsticks and began viciously stabbing the braised pork knuckle in front of her.

.....

「The fifth day of the twelfth lunar month. A clear, sunny day.」

Xuanwu Platform was located at the border of the Hua Realm and the French Concession, adjacent to Black Water Dock, an abandoned river bend in the Old Town.

It was surrounded on three sides by low-lying, squalid shantytowns, with the fourth side facing a murky tributary of the Su River.

Xuanwu Platform was originally an execution ground for the former dynasty’s Government. Whenever there was a prisoner sentenced to death, they would be dragged here to be beheaded.

After the fall of the previous dynasty, it served for a time as a place for unofficial gang punishments... The rules of the Life and Death Barrier were more or less established during that period.

At this moment, on Xuanwu Platform, eighteen black-lacquered, red-wood coffins stood upright in a row. White banners emblazoned with the character for "Mourning" fluttered in the wind. A long altar table was placed in the center of the stage. Aside from the bereaved families of the deceased—who were kneeling by the coffins, dressed in sackcloth, and wailing ceaselessly—numerous members of the Martial Arts world stood silently and solemnly before the long table.

Zhao Jigang, dressed in a Profound Robe with a striking white silk plum blossom tied around his left arm, stood by the altar with a grim and imposing air.

After a subordinate cautiously approached to report the time, he turned around, his expression calm, and spoke faintly.

"Light the incense!"