The city gate was nothing like the grim, heavily guarded thing Xue Mu had pictured. Quite the opposite—there wasn't even one guard. Is it because personal martial power in this bizarre world is so high that guarding a gate is pointless? Or because civilization has reached a stage where gates don't need guarding at all?
The gate stood wide open, travelers coming and going. Looking through it, he could see a main street more than ten zhang across, crowded with carriages and horses, bursting with life.
The buildings along the street had something of a Song dynasty flavor about them, the storefronts thriving, hawkers' cries rising and falling, the whole place bustling. The pedestrians wore every sort of clothing, each of them carrying a saber or a sword—knight-errant garb mostly, though fine brocade was hardly rare.
What he did not see a single example of was a scholar's robe. In short, the place still had the look of civilization rather than savagery.
All in all, the air of a golden age as seen in period dramas was no grander than this—not at all the brutish world of pure violence and no culture that Xue Mu had expected.
The group walked slowly inward. Xue Mu leaned toward Yue Xiaochan and asked in a low voice, "What's the deal with this city? How come I feel like something's pressing on me until I can't breathe?"
Yue Xiaochan was glancing left and right as though admiring the capital's bustle, and answered absently, "Right under the Son of Heaven's feet, you know... The core function of the first of the Nine Cauldrons, the World-Suppressing Cauldron, is the No-Transgression Formation, and it covers the whole city. It caps martial power and bans flight. Even I can't bring out half my strength here—it's a wonder you can breathe at all. Don't panic. You get used to it."
Xue Mu had no idea what a World-Suppressing Cauldron was, but it sounded formidable enough to awe him. Clearly, anything used to build the capital's core formation had to be top-tier. He instinctively looked at his palm again. Could this bronze shard really be connected to these so-called World-Suppressing Cauldrons?
If so, that actually makes it even more worth looking forward to...
Then again, banning flight... Xue Mu sighed. "So you people really can fly..."
"Once you step into the Returning Spirit realm and connect to the bridge between heaven and earth, you'll fly too." Yue Xiaochan said it offhandedly, as though it were utterly trivial. But Xue Mu could plainly tell her mind was elsewhere. Following her gaze, he saw a side street off the right side of the main road; at its far end the crowd was thick, gathered around a raised arena. A flag was planted on the arena, and on it were written the words: Making Friends Through Martial Arts.
That was right—making friends through martial arts, not a martial-arts contest to win a bride. It looked like a common enough sight; plenty of passersby did not even glance at it, proof that such arenas were too commonplace to be worth a look.
Just then the burly, curly-bearded man on the arena gave a shout and hurled himself at his opponent from more than a zhang away, driving a fist straight in. A vivid phantom of a fierce tiger surged up around him, his fist aligned with the tiger's jaws; a tiger's roar rose, blood-red maw and fangs clear as day. The man cut a truly awe-inspiring figure.
His opponent was a young man in a brocade robe, plainly unwilling to take such a thunderous blow head-on. He retreated half a step, turned his body aside to let it pass, and pressed his fingers together into a blade, slicing at an angle toward the big man's wrist. As he moved, a shrill whistle suddenly tore through the air and crashed head-on against the tiger's roar.
The air above the arena burst apart and smoke scattered. Soon enough the young man in brocade still came off the worse, thumping back several steps with his face going green, then red. The curly-bearded man smiled and cupped his hands. "Brother Jin, you let me win."
The young man returned the salute stiffly and turned to step down, taking the loss with good grace. The big man raised his right hand high on the arena to bask in the crowd's praise, while others consoled the young man in brocade; such seemed to be the custom—victory and defeat on the arena were far too common to be a big deal.
At last Xue Mu and Yue Xiaochan's caravan slowly moved off from the mouth of the side street, and the arena disappeared from view. Seeing that Yue Xiaochan still looked distracted, Xue Mu could not help asking, "What's wrong? Are they so strong that they're putting pressure on you?"
Yue Xiaochan murmured as if to herself, "A third-rate sect like the Fierce Tiger Sect actually produced a Form Manifestation stage disciple, and his use of power already has the real essence of it—driving force with momentum. Quite remarkable."
Xue Mu was awed without understanding a thing. "He's really stronger than you?"
Yue Xiaochan seemed to snap back to herself and laughed. "Of course he's far below me."
"Then what are you so tense about?"
"Because... if even a third-rate sect can raise a disciple that good, who knows how many fine seedlings the eight great righteous sects have? Maybe some of these so-called Ten Hidden Dragons really are stronger than me." Yue Xiaochan said softly, "I still have to work harder."
Seeing this always-smiling little girl show such seriousness and worry for once, Xue Mu could not help reassuring her: "You're only thirteen or fourteen this year, aren't you? Why measure yourself against these Ten Dragons and their like, who've already made their names?"
"I am Yue Xiaochan." She stopped walking and lifted her head to look him earnestly in the eye. "The future of the sect rests entirely on me. Only strength is the root of everything. Falling even half a step behind them is an unforgivable sin!"
The shift in tone left Xue Mu a little off balance, but when he tried to say something, nothing came out.
The girl really was not just a grinning, happy-go-lucky little thing, and not merely a little demoness who thought nothing of human life and would gouge out someone's eyes at the drop of a hat... In that instant, what he felt was actually rather beautiful...
How to put it, though—she did not even have a chest yet, and her shoulders were so slight that one slap looked like it could crush them. The picture of a little girl set against that crushing sense of mission made for such an extreme contrast that it was almost suffocating.
Xue Mu could not help turning to look at the carriage. Did Xue Qingqiu hear her disciple's words? What is she thinking?
Surely she can only be gratified?
Xue Mu shook his head with a smile, at a loss for words.
Snatches of conversation from the street drifted to Xue Mu's ears, and he once again felt how out of place he was in this world—even his onlooker's frame of mind kept slipping out of character... Just look at this bizarre dialogue:
"Ah, Brother Zhang, you're all smiles—has some happy thing happened?"
"My worthless son passed the Seven Mysteries Valley's examination yesterday and is now an outer sect disciple!"
"Well, congratulations!"
"Haha, the same to you, the same to you."
"Brother Li, I've lately gained some insight into White Clouds Rising from the Peak. Shall we find a place tonight to test it out and exchange a few pointers?"
"That would be lovely. Tonight I'll lay out a little wine at home—you and I can drink and discuss martial arts, wouldn't that be fine!"
"Hey, Old Wang, I hear you've been in seclusion for days. How's the training coming?"
"Not bad, I'd say. Tonight I'll go to Baihua Garden and put on a little display in front of Little Lotus—I guarantee that woman will be all hot and bothered."
The more Xue Mu heard, the more speechless he became. You even show off your martial arts when you go whoring? That mental image was so lovely it hurt—he was past complaining.
Wait... Baihua Garden. Why does that sound a little familiar?
He probed Yue Xiaochan: "Earlier, when you were going over the accounts, Baihua Garden came up?"
"Mm-hm." Yue Xiaochan's mind had slipped free of that sense of mission too; she nodded her little head with a smile. "That's one of our holdings in the capital."
Xue Mu pressed on to confirm: "A brothel?"
Yue Xiaochan shot him a half-smiling glance, and oddly enough there was a hint of seduction in her smile; her voice turned honeyed. "Oh? What's this, our Boss Xue is in the mood? Shall your little sister call a few girls over to keep you company? Call it a reward for telling such a good story."
Xue Mu pinched the bridge of his nose, still unable to find a word to say.
All that big talk about the sect's future and strength being the root of everything—I figured you people were some high-and-mighty outfit. After all that buildup, what you're running is a brothel!
So I thought I'd signed on as the accountant for the mafia, when really I'm just the bookkeeper at a Dongguan bathhouse. Is that about right?