Introductions complete, the pair clashed once more. Quickly enough, Wu Ying realized that like him, Ji Ang maneuvered his sword with grace and understanding. Not too surprising that the older bandit had achieved the Sense of the Sword. In fact, it seemed as though he was on the cusp of finding the Heart. But thin line or not, the line still stood.
Dragon turns in slumber. Greeting the rising run. Blades flashing, the pair exchanged blows over and over. Sparks flew from the swords, such was the force of their clashes. Each blow rang through the narrow alleyway, which intensified the noise until it seemed as if an entire band was there. A momentary slip, a twist, and Wu Ying fell back, his left arm bleeding from a shallow wound. On the opposite side, a light cut marred Ji Ang’s cheek.
“Wu Ying! I’m here,” Zhong Shei said as he came forward, having dealt with the last opponent. He leaned against the wall slightly, one arm hanging uselessly by his side as his shoulder bled. “Let us finish this monster.”
“You two…” Ji Ang’s lips curled. “One a new cultivator. The other a spoiled, injured brat. Do you think you can beat me?”
“Yes.”
“Justice will prevail!” The silence after Zhong Shei’s pronouncement made the guard look between the pair, who stared at him incredulously. “What?”
“What are you? Six?” Wu Ying said.
“Even my son doesn’t say things like that,” Ji Ang added.
“Well, your son wouldn’t,” Zhong Shei said.
“How dare you. My wife brings him up to be an upstanding citizen. He’ll be a scholar one day!” Ji Ang growled.
Wu Ying stood there, dumbfounded, as his sheltered world was broken open once again. Ji Ang raised his sword and charged the pair while Wu Ying was still getting his head around the idea of the bandit having a wife and scholar of a son. Caught by surprise, Wu Ying threw a hasty block and was saved only by Zhong Shei’s quick aid. Ji Ang cursed, jumping back to dodge Zhong Shei’s attack, and blocked the next cut contemptuously. The three stood at a standstill, breathing slowly as they eyed the other party for the next attack.
“Naïve.” Ji Ang eyed Zhong Shei and Wu Ying before his smile widened. “I’ll show you how far a distance there is between us though. Watch my Formless Blade!”
Immediately, Ji Ang executed his attack. Eyes thinning in concentration, Wu Ying focused as the bandit’s blade swirled. In moments, the single blade became a dozen, each seeming to flicker and disappear in the shadows of the alleyway. Cursing, Wu Ying and Zhong Shei wove their swords in their respective defensive patterns in an attempt to deflect the real blade among the illusory ones.
Again and again, the clang of blades resounded through the alleyway. Both of the cultivators were forced backward as the bandit pushed them, blood blooming around their bodies as attacks slipped past their guard. Thankfully, the defense patterns kept their vitals safeguarded, forcing Ji Ang to bleed them slowly.
“Bodies!” Wu Ying called as memory tickled his mind. He hopped backward with a powerful thrust of his legs, jumping over the bodies that lay on the ground from their earlier fights.
Zhong Shei landed beside him a second later, the pair raising their swords as Ji Ang carefully moved around the corpses. Given a break, the pair breathed deeply, feeling the sting of cuts across their body.
“Can’t win if we defend,” Zhong Shei said weakly.
Glancing at his friend, Wu Ying was startled to notice how pale Zhong Shei had grown as he continued to lose blood. The wound in his shoulder was deep and dripped a steady stream down his hand.
“Can you hold?” Wu Ying asked worriedly.
Ji Ang sneered at the pair as he tested their defenses, but the quick probes of his sword were sent back with light blocks. Wu Ying could tell that the man was still testing the pair, waiting for Zhong Shei to bleed out.
“Not much. Follow me,” Zhong Shei replied.
Suiting actions to words, the guard surged forward, batting aside Ji Ang’s weapon. Yet the attacks were so weak that the bandit’s lips curled up even further as he focused his attention mainly on Wu Ying and his attacks. It would be a fatal mistake.
Twisting with the next block, Zhong Shei used the momentum to pull up his injured arm, forcing himself to move it through the pain. Blood, collected in a loose cupped hand as it dripped down his arm, was tossed at Ji Ang’s face. The brief blindness distracted the bandit, and he stumbled back. Right into the bodies of his comrades. For a moment, Ji Ang’s hands opened as he unconsciously attempted to regain his balance.
A moment was sufficient for Wu Ying to execute the Sword’s Truth. The singular attack of the Long family style was a powerful lunge that threw everything into a single attack. Yet this one had been modified slightly by Wu Ying, a result of Yuan Rang’s attack. The attack became even sharper and more explosive. In that moment of vulnerability, Wu Ying’s jian punched through Ji Ang’s chest, through his heart, and out the back, all the way to Wu Ying’s hilt.
Surprised by the effectiveness, Wu Ying stood stock-still, eye to eye with his opponent. Ji Ang stared at Wu Ying in surprise as blood dripped down his face, giving him a crazed look. His sword clattered to the ground and his now-free hand moved to grab Wu Ying, who contemptuously pushed the hand away. A second later, the light dimmed from Ji Ang’s eyes and he collapsed, sliding off the sword.
It was only then that the clamor of guards outside the alley could be heard. Wu Ying groaned, looking backward and forward around the alleyway before rifling Ji Ang’s body. He took the bandit leader’s coin purse and scooped up the scabbard and Ji Ang’s sword. He quickly sheathed the sword before thrusting the weapon at the merchant.
“What…?”
“Put it in your storage ring,” Wu Ying snapped. Even as he said that, he was emptying the coin purse into his own before tossing the empty, bloody purse aside. He then slid his purse back into his robes before bending to clean his weapon.
It was crouched, bleeding, and wounded, cleaning his sword on the corpses of his enemies, that the guards found him.
“We’re not going to make it to the boat, are we?” Wu Ying muttered even as Zhong Shei swayed, bloody and fumbling for a healing pill while speaking with the guards.
The only good thing was that Zhong Shei had taken his advice and hidden the bandit leader’s sword in his storage ring before the guards arrived. Wu Ying hid his smile while he sheathed his blade and waited quietly, his sect seal held out for all to see. Not as though any of the weapons or coin purses on the corpses were ever likely to make their way to him if he had waited.
Chapter 18
As Wu Ying had expected, the fight between themselves and the bandits had resulted in quite a bit of chaos. If not for his liberal usage of his sect seal and Zhong Shei’s ruthless use of his own standing as the son of a prosperous and well-known merchant and the favored nephew of an even more famous and rich wine maker, along with his position as a lieutenant of a neighboring city, the mess would have been even worse.
As it stood, the pair were frog-marched to the nearest guard post, where a doctor treated their wounds before they were subjected to questioning separately. For the most part, Wu Ying told the truth, only omitting details about the famous bandit’s sword and coin purse when asked. After a vigorous two hours of questioning, the pair were finally released back to a holding room, where they found their belongings from the ship. Thankfully, the precious jars of wine were untouched—the shield of wealth, position, and martial prowess keeping the pair’s belongings safe, even in their absence.
“They asked about the sword. And his coin purse,” Zhong Shei said to Wu Ying, who was storing his clothing and other belongings once again.