Chapter Sixty-One: Unceasing Events

“There’s only a thousand days to be a thief, never a thousand days to guard against one,” Zhou Qian murmured to himself. “I’ll handle your affairs for you, and I’ll help you kill your enemy. I am neither immortal nor Buddha; I can’t save the world. But what I promise, I will fulfil. I’ll tell you—novels update fastest in the blink of an eye, don’t they?”

Zhou Qian turned and strode away with resolute determination. The ferocious tension on Madam Hu’s face seemed to relax just a little.

“Hero Zhou, where are you off to?” called a guard from among the martial folk behind him.

“Just taking a look around!” Zhou Qian waved his hand without turning back. “Brother, please hold your post.”

He descended the stairs and came to the starboard side of the boat, near the window. After Madam Hu was killed, the murderer had only two paths: down the stairs or out the window. Yet Mouse had said the killer escaped through the door. What had he overlooked?

Madam Hu screamed!

The murderer and Mouse exchanged three moves!

The murderer vanished!

The crowd arrived!

There must be something missing here, some unknown detail, Zhou Qian pondered. The murderer’s unique method of disappearance—what was the connection? Countless guesses, countless possibilities, but which would the killer choose? Perhaps it was time to visit certain people.

Young heroes and heroines of the martial world are often unmarried; this is hardly surprising. First, youth breeds ambition—they’re consumed with thoughts of dominance, not love. Second, life in the jianghu is ever precarious, with one’s head tied to their belt; to have a spouse would only bring attachments. Enemies far outnumber friends, making loved ones a fatal vulnerability, an opportunity for others. Even if one acquires such luxuries, they dampen the spirit—can one still wield a deadly strike?

Yi Yun and Yi Xie Die were famed as a gifted couple in the martial world, said to have been betrothed since childhood. Their reputation was not for extraordinary martial prowess, but rather that they remained in the jianghu after marrying—a rarity. The husband was handsome, the wife charming, and their union was unique, a frequent topic of conversation.

Yi Xie Die sat by the window, her face grim, silent for a long time. On the floor lay shards of broken tea cups and dishes. Yi Yun stood awkwardly, neither advancing nor retreating. This admired couple seemed to have just quarreled, though they were known for harmony.

“Tonight, I doubted whether you were truly my husband, or someone impersonating you,” Yi Xie Die said coldly.

“Xie Die, listen to my explanation. With so many martial heroes present, if I spoke out, my reputation wouldn’t matter, but wouldn’t yours be dragged down too? Isn’t reputation the most important thing in the jianghu?” Yi Yun’s voice was nervous.

“Reputation! Always reputation! Is reputation more important than righteousness? You commit shameful acts, refuse to admit it, and have me cover for you. Yi Yun, what were our vows when we entered the jianghu? To strike down evil and uphold justice! Now? You do nothing but disgraceful, hypocritical deeds!”

“Then what do you want—go straight to Zhou Qian or Lou Yu Xiao and confess? What’s the use? Will anyone believe you? You might just be made the scapegoat!” Yi Yun finally dropped the pretense and sneered.

“What is it you want to tell me? Why not say it now?” Suddenly, a voice sounded from outside.

“Who?” Yi Yun’s face changed drastically, wary.

“It is I, Zhou Qian.”

Yi Yun and Yi Xie Die exchanged glances. Yi Yun’s face turned pale, while Yi Xie Die snorted and slowly walked to the door, sliding the bolt open. Zhou Qian stood just outside.

“Hero Zhou, please come in,” Yi Xie Die hesitated, then spoke.

Zhou Qian glanced at the shattered cups on the floor, raising an eyebrow.

“Hero Zhou, this—just now, my wife and I quarreled. Forgive us for letting you see such a scene,” Yi Yun said awkwardly. “Xie Die, aren’t you going to serve tea?”

“No need for tea,” Zhou Qian paused. “If I wanted tea, I should have come sooner.”

“Heh,” Yi Yun gave a dry laugh, at a loss for words.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me?” Zhou Qian suddenly asked.

Yi Yun hesitated, then forced a laugh. “Nothing, really—just a quarrel between husband and wife. All words spoken in anger.”

Zhou Qian frowned, seeing Yi Yun still dodging. He cut straight to the point: “I’ve been standing outside the door for half an hour. Whatever matters, whatever words, I’ve heard all I need. Brother Yi, kindly tell me everything you know.”

“Zhou Qian! You—you are the disciple of the Hundred-Arm Sword Immortal, a man of the righteous path. Is eavesdropping something you should be doing?” Yi Yun demanded, as if grasping onto a lifeline.

A flicker of anger crossed Zhou Qian’s eyes. How could such people exist—committing wrongs without remorse, yet daring to pass judgment on others as if upholding justice?

“I’ll say it again: tell me everything you know and have seen. My patience is limited!” Zhou Qian enunciated each word, and both Yi Yun and Yi Xie Die felt their skin tingle as if electrified.

“I—this matter truly has nothing to do with me, truly! It’s just, just—” Yi Yun grimaced, helpless.

“Hmph! If you’re so proud of your deeds, why can’t you speak of them? Or must I say it for you?” Yi Xie Die snorted.

“I’ll say it, I’ll say!” Yi Yun hurried. “Last night, I did go to Madam Hu’s chamber. Mainly to discuss something. But I swear, I am not the murderer! My wife can vouch for me!”

“To discuss something?” Zhou Qian pressed his tone. “Be clear: when, and what?”

“I arranged to meet Madam Hu at midnight. As you know, her reputation is poor—I didn’t want to tarnish my own, so I chose the late hour. She wanted me to stay the night; I disapproved of her lewd manner, argued a bit, and left in displeasure.” Yi Yun presented himself as noble, but to outsiders, his words sounded lewd.

“Hmph!” Yi Xie Die snorted.

Zhou Qian raised an eyebrow. Madam Hu, seduce him? If judged by reputation, it made sense, but Yi Yun likely didn’t know Zhou Qian was familiar with Madam Hu. With Yi Xie Die’s attitude, the truth was likely the reverse—and not the main point.

“You met at midnight?” Zhou Qian frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“How long did you talk?”

“Not long, just about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense.”

That fits, Zhou Qian mused. Madam Hu was killed at the second quarter of midnight, and Yi Yun arrived at midnight, stayed only a short while. The timing checks out, and from the couple’s behavior, at least regarding the murder, they weren’t lying. That was sufficient, yet not enough.

Zhou Qian’s face turned cold. “Do you think me a child? If your story were true, your wife would be delighted, yet she’s like this. Since you refuse to speak, I won’t force you. Tomorrow, all the martial heroes will gather on the boat—perhaps you’ll explain yourself then.”

With that, Zhou Qian gave no chance for rebuttal, turning to leave and leaving Yi Yun stunned—

Wouldn’t that spread his scandal throughout the martial world?!

Disgraced, despised!

“No!” Yi Yun snapped awake, lunging forward to clutch Zhou Qian’s leg, his handsome face twisted. “You cannot! You must not! You’d ruin my reputation, destroy everything I have!”

Zhou Qian turned sharply, staring coldly at Yi Yun. “You want to stop me? Or do you think you can?”

Yi Yun’s heart plunged into darkness—he couldn’t win by force, nor by deceit. What could he do?

“Hero Zhou, Brother Zhou, you mustn’t—please!” His voice dropped lower, almost sobbing.

This was a man who valued reputation above life. Zhou Qian could see that his posture had produced the desired effect, which suited him perfectly.

“In truth, things needn’t go so far,” Zhou Qian smiled. “It’s bad for both of us, don’t you agree? Brother Yi, come, sit down.” He helped Yi Yun up at the door and pressed him into a chair. Then he turned, “Miss Yi, may I trouble you to leave for a moment? I have things to discuss with your husband.”

“What can’t be said in front of me?” Yi Xie Die’s face chilled—her reputation as a forthright heroine was well-deserved.

“Brother Yi, what do you think?” Zhou Qian smiled at Yi Yun.

“Xie Die, you—please leave—” For some reason, Yi Yun no longer dared look at his wife.

Disappointment, heartbreak, contempt, regret—all condensed into a single scornful glance. “I must have been blind to ever take a liking to you!”

The door slammed shut, leaving only the two men in the room.

“Brother Yi, now I ask, you answer. I want the truth, you must speak the truth. When you’re done, this matter is finished—we’ll pretend it never happened. Agreed?”

“Yes, yes!” Yi Yun nodded repeatedly.

“If you lie, I have ways to find the truth. Don’t forget, Miss Yi can’t hear what we’re saying. Do you understand?”

“I—I do.” Yi Yun’s face was pale; he feared his wife, righteous and relentless, more than Zhou Qian.

“So, first: why did you visit Madam Hu’s chamber late at night?”

“I—” Yi Yun looked troubled.

“You have only one chance!” Zhou Qian warned.

Yi Yun gave up all pretense. “Years ago, I ruined a woman’s chastity. She later became a prostitute under Madam Hu. Madam Hu used this to blackmail me into doing many things!”

Forced into prostitution?! Zhou Qian’s lip twitched. What a scoundrel!

“And tonight—?”

“Tonight, Madam Hu summoned me to her room, demanding a hundred thousand taels of silver. That wretch! After all the benefits she’s gotten, she dared to do this. I insisted she spend the night with me; she cursed me as delusional, we argued, and I left in a hurry!”

“So you raped her and then killed her?” Zhou Qian said coldly, rising to loom over him as if staring at a corpse.

“No, no, it wasn’t like that!” Yi Yun waved his hands in panic. “She was already wary of me—I couldn’t have done it. Besides, Madam Hu had learned some assassination skills from somewhere; even if I attacked by surprise, I might not be her match!”

Yes! A surprise attack! All those knife wounds on Madam Hu—how did I miss that? Zhou Qian’s calm exterior masked inner turmoil. The murderer hadn’t killed to make a statement, but had planned everything in advance!

“Are you the murderer?” Zhou Qian pressed.

“I’m not!” Yi Yun was almost hysterical.

“You killed her and escaped out the window?” Zhou Qian pressed closer.

“I really didn’t kill her!” Yi Yun shouted hoarsely.

“So you escaped through the door?”

“Yes, no—not exactly—”

“Well, which is it?”

“I—I left first by the door, then changed and went out the window.”

“Why?”

“I saw someone.”

“Who?”

Yi Yun fell silent.

“Who was it?” Zhou Qian drew the Ghost Master Sword and held it to Yi Yun’s throat, enunciating each word: “Who—was—it?”

“The Beggar Clan—Wang Hu!”

Now Zhou Qian understood why Yi Yun had kept silent under pressure. Everyone in the martial world knew about his brotherly ties with Wang Hu.

“A murderer will pay with his life, no matter who he is!” Zhou Qian’s mouth tasted bitter. “Tell me everything you know!”

“When I left, I saw him. Luckily he didn’t notice me—I quickly hid. For some reason, Madam Hu was also very flustered, urging me to leave. So I escaped out the window, only to be seen by Xie Die. Who could have guessed Madam Hu would be killed moments later? I asked Xie Die to cover for me, but she stubbornly refused!”

“Actually, Brother Wang Hu may not be the murderer,” Yi Yun suggested cautiously, seeing Zhou Qian’s troubled expression.

“Who said Brother Hu was the killer?” Zhou Qian retorted.

“If you went out the window, it was open, right?” Zhou Qian suddenly asked a curious question.

“That’s obvious,” Yi Yun stammered.

“Last night, the wind was bitterly cold,” Zhou Qian said meaningfully.

The door was suddenly kicked open. Yi Xie Die’s face was grim, and she spoke each word sharply: “Someone else has been assassinated!”