While the sky had not yet darkened, Yang Ge, leaning on his blade, emerged from the mountain forest. Having only walked two to three miles, he could already see a group of farmers returning with their hoes...
He glanced down at his tattered clothes and decided simply to tear them off and wrap them around the sword and blade he carried on his back. Then, he smeared some dirt on his face and body with great care, striving to make himself look like a refugee fleeing famine, not a troublemaker from the jianghu, lest he frighten anyone.
"Gents, heading home?"
With a beaming smile, he quickened his pace and, from a distance, greeted an old man walking at the back with a bow, saying, "I’m a traveling merchant from Henan, got lost in these woods. Could I trouble you to point me in the right direction?"
The old man set down his hoe and, leaning on it, sized up Yang Ge’s disheveled state with a kind gaze and a toothy yellow grin, smiling, "Lad, where are you trying to go?"
Yang Ge feigned helplessness as he replied, "I was heading to Hangzhou... My good man, where are we?"
"Hangzhou?"
The old man burst into laughter as if he’d heard a joke, chuckling, "That’s quite a ways off, no? We’re at Mount Longhu."
"Mount Longhu?"
Yang Ge froze for two seconds, then the realization hit him, and he exclaimed in disbelief, "This is Mount Longhu? The ancestral home of the Dragon and Tiger?"
"That’s right!"
The old man nodded cheerfully, pointing northeast, and earnestly advised, "If you’re heading to Hangzhou, go in that direction. Walk about thirty to forty miles, and you’ll reach a main road. Follow that main road for two days, and you’ll get to Raozhou..."
But at this moment, Yang Ge was no longer listening to what the old man was saying. With a speechless turn, he pointed towards the distant mountain from where the white-haired elder had flown and asked for one last confirmation, "Old man, is Mount Longhu over there?"
The old man nodded, once again appraising Yang Ge’s pitiful state with understanding, "Yes, did you come through from there? Ran into the Zhang Family?"
Yang Ge silently nodded, feeling as though countless alpacas were joyfully frolicking in his mind.
’No wonder the Five Poisons Cult targeted Wudang Mountains...’
’No wonder that old fellow already so strong, yet he didn’t take over the world...’
’Turns out it wasn’t my analysis that was wrong, but rather that fool Shen led me astray from the start!’
’Yes, it’s all Shen’s fault!’
He scratched his forehead in frustration, feeling that the beating he had received was truly unjust.
...
Two days later.
Disheveled and looking like a displaced person, Yang Ge stood among a crowd, waiting in line to enter the city.
"Hold on!"
A guard at the city gate blocked Yang Ge’s path with an old wooden spear and glanced at him with a lazy, slanted eye, drawling, "What’s that on your back?"
Yang Ge honestly replied, "Swords."
The guard scoffed and gestured at Yang Ge with the tip of his spear, said, "Take them off. The chief wants to inspect!"
Looking up at the words "Fengyang" inscribed on the city gate, Yang Ge nodded, unwrapped the torn clothes from his back, and showed the swords to the guard, saying, "See, I wasn’t lying, right? They really are swords!"
When the guard saw the swords, his expression changed instantly. He swiftly stashed the spear behind his back while bowing and scraping, moving back towards the group of soldiers, nervous, "My mistake, didn’t recognize Mount Tai, please, do come in, come in..."
"Don’t go!"
Yang Ge grabbed the guard by his jacket and dragged him back, startling him with his next words, "The Yang Family of the Ming Sect live here, right? I’m not sure how to find the place, would you be so kind to lead me there."
The guard began to sweat profusely and stammered, "What, what’s the master talking about? I, I’ve been hard of hearing since childhood, can’t make out a single word."
Yang Ge raised his voice, "Ming Sect, the Yang Family, did you get that?"
As soon as his words were out, everyone around him turned to stare at him, and the noisy city gate fell silent as if someone had hit the pause button.
Yang Ge faced their gazes, surprised, "What’s the matter? Doesn’t the Yang Family live here?"
Instantly, all the people around "whooshed" away, scattering like birds and beasts—even the soldiers guarding the gate dropped their weapons and fled.
Turning back to look at the guard now collapsed on the ground, Yang Ge shrugged and smiled, "See, they all know!"
He let go of the guard, took a seat with his swords at the corner beside the city gate, his gaze aimlessly fixed on the gloomy sky, recalling once more the sword intent of that white-haired elder...
Before long, a brash figure dressed in fiery red leaped over the city wall, seething with anger as he shouted, "Which friend dares to cause trouble with my Yang family?"
Yang Ge looked up, smiling and waving at the flamboyant figure in mid-air, "Hey, brother!"
The figure in the air, none other than Yang Tiansheng, Hall Master of Qingmu Hall from the Ming Sect, immediately looked down. Despite Yang Ge’s current state, disheveled and looking like a stray dog, he recognized him instantly and cried out, "Holy shit, Yang Ge?"
"Thump."
He landed heavily, hurried to Yang Ge’s side, and pulled him up from the corner, checking him over from head to toe: "What have you done to yourself?"
Yang Ge pushed away the hand that was grabbing his pants and said irritably, "What else? I got into a fight and lost!"
"Huh?"
Yang Tiansheng said in shock, "There’s someone in this world you can’t beat?"
Yang Ge: "Big deal! Do I have three heads and six arms? Doesn’t everyone have a head held up by a pair of shoulders?"
Yang Tiansheng: "Aren’t you supposed to be the best in the world?"
Yang Ge: "You believe that load of crap from the Louwailou?"
Yang Tiansheng: "I wouldn’t believe it from anyone else, but I sure have to believe it from you, Yang Ge!"
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