Chapter 100: The Mysterious Elder and the Unknown Sword Technique

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Fu Zihou raised a hand and wiped the blood from his face. Sword in hand, he watched beneath the dimming sunset as the bandit army withdrew once more.

It had already been eight days!

Walking along the city wall, he saw the utterly exhausted defenders collapsed against the battlements, sitting beside corpse after corpse. Fu Zihou continued onward until he reached Cao Yong, who was seated against the wall.

“Commandant!”

Cao Yong pressed a hand over his wound. His face was slightly pale, and upon seeing Fu Zihou, he tried to struggle upright, but Fu Zihou stopped him.

“Get some proper rest for the next few days!”

Fu Zihou crouched down. As he spoke to Cao Yong, he set aside his sword and reached out to undo Cao Yong’s armor.

“Commandant…”

Cao Yong was about to say that one night’s rest would be enough and that he could still kill the enemy tomorrow, when Xiong Ruixiang and Xia Jia came over.

“Listen to the commandant! He still has us at his side, and we’re still guarding the walls!”

Xiong Ruixiang smiled at Cao Yong, signaling that he need not worry. If the bandits wanted to take the city in the coming days, they would first have to step over their corpses.

Yin Tianzong had also summoned a woman, who came bearing strips of cloth to bandage Cao Yong’s wound.

As the brigade commander of the Eagle-Raising Prefecture, Yin Tianzong was filled with admiration and recognition for Cao Yong.

Over the past several days, whenever fierce bandits climbed onto the walls and any soldier found himself outmatched, Cao Yong had always been the first to charge forward and fight them.

He fought as though his life meant nothing!

Not only Yin Tianzong—even the other soldiers could not help but admire Cao Yong.

Within an army, everyone respected the brave.

“Take him down to rest.”

Fu Zihou picked up Cao Yong’s bloodstained armor and gave the order to the woman.

In this defense of the city, Cao Yong was undoubtedly one of the garrison’s greatest strengths. His severe injury was bad news for Fu Zihou, and it also meant that defending the city in the days ahead would be even more difficult than it had been today.

But no matter how hard things became, Fu Zihou would never allow Cao Yong to continue fighting while seriously wounded.

In Fu Zihou’s heart, Cao Yong’s life mattered far more than the defense of the city over these few days.

“Commandant, I’ll remain on the walls. You should go back and rest first!”

Only after watching Cao Yong being helped away by the woman did Fu Zihou rise. Then he heard Yin Tianzong’s voice.

Fu Zihou shook his head. The bandit army had only just withdrawn, and the civilians inside the city had begun repairing the walls. As the commander responsible for the defense—and the spiritual pillar of the people in the eastern city—Fu Zihou knew he could not leave yet. At any moment, the bandits might attack again.

“Let me take a look.”

Fu Zihou noticed two civilians carrying the corpse of a bandit past him. He paid it no mind at first, but then he suddenly saw that something about the corpse’s complexion was unusual. He hurriedly raised a hand to stop them and motioned for them to set it down.

The surrounding civilians and soldiers were puzzled, but they obeyed.

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Just as everyone was wondering whether Fu Zihou knew the dead bandit, Yin Tianzong alone watched as Fu Zihou crouched beside the corpse and examined its mouth, tongue, neck, and other parts. He soon thought of the carcasses of sheep and livestock that had been buried near the water source earlier.

Thinking of the bandit army outside the city, Yin Tianzong seemed to glimpse a ray of hope. He was both excited and uneasy, hardly daring to breathe as he stared tensely at Fu Zihou.

“This corpse appears to have been afflicted with an illness. But it isn’t plague.”

Seeing Yin Tianzong’s curious gaze, Fu Zihou explained.

When he saw the disappointment on Yin Tianzong’s face, Fu Zihou ordered the civilians to carry the corpse away and wrap it in a burlap sack. He then instructed Yin Tianzong, Xiong Ruixiang, and Xia Jia to take men at once and gather corpses showing signs of infection—around ten in all.

“Yes, sir!”

“Yes, sir!”

The three men accepted the order and hurried away.

“Commandant!”

Fu Zihou was preparing to leave and inspect the walls when a soldier who should have been recovering inside the city suddenly ran toward him, still wounded and out of breath.

As night descended—

Within the eastern city—

On an open stretch of ground, more than seven hundred children of varying ages stood beneath the night sky, gripping swords, sabers, and long spears as they swung them with all their might.

“One! Two…”

Several wounded defenders shouted the count in hoarse voices for these sons of Taiyuan.

Their parents had gone to defend the walls. Some had already fallen to the bandits. In the eyes of the wounded soldiers, these children undergoing military training represented the eastern city of Jinyang.

If they someday took their places upon the walls and fought the bandits, it would mean that the eastern city of Jinyang had reached its final hour.

And if one day these children all died upon the walls, it would mean that the eastern city of Jinyang had fallen completely into the bandits’ hands.

“Commandant!”

“Commandant!”

When Fu Zihou arrived, the wounded soldiers finally stopped calling the count and turned to look at him.

“It’s dark. Let them go and rest.”

Fu Zihou nodded as he gazed at the children, who had risen to train before dawn and still had not been dismissed even after nightfall. He then gave the order.

“Yes, sir!”

Upon receiving Fu Zihou’s command, the soldiers sent the children home to rest.

Beside the open ground stood a modest stone.

Led by the wounded soldier who had just reported to him, Fu Zihou approached an old man with hair as white as snow. The man was filthy and disheveled, dressed in tattered coarse clothing. Beneath his single arm, he held a blade covered in countless large and small notches.

From the soldier, Fu Zihou learned that the old man was blind and likely more than eighty years old.

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Looking at the blade in the old man’s hand, Fu Zihou felt that it must be ancient—yet what met his eyes was a bright edge and a blade entirely free of rust.

The old man seemed to have heard what had just been said. His withered, deeply wrinkled face lifted slightly as he listened to the voices, then turned toward Fu Zihou.

“Old sir, I am Fu Zihou, commandant of the eastern city. The soldiers say that you wished to see me?”

Fu Zihou looked at the old man, frowning faintly as he asked the question.

“Today, I heard the soldiers say that, in Qinghe County, you once led troops against the bandit Zhang Jincheng, only to be ambushed by his great general, Xu Jinpeng, who slashed you across the chest.”

Though the old man could not see Fu Zihou, he could determine from the others’ tones that the young man speaking before him was the one who had killed Xu Jinpeng.

“That is true,” Fu Zihou replied without denying it.

When Fu Zihou had first arrived in Jinyang, only the great clans, officials, and generals knew of his military achievements.

But after the bandit army arrived and attacked the eastern city, casualties had steadily mounted over the past several days. To raise morale, the great families of the eastern city spread word of Fu Zihou’s past deeds throughout the city, giving the civilians and soldiers confidence once more. Fu Zihou naturally had no objection.

“I will teach you swordsmanship.”

The old man said nothing more. Instead, with a shriveled hand, he drew from within his robes a book so tattered that fragments seemed ready to fall from it at any moment.

“Swordsmanship?”

Fu Zihou watched the old man’s actions, caught completely off guard. Then he looked at the ancient book being offered to him and could not help but smile wryly.

“Old sir, I still have to lead the defense of the city these days. Once the fighting is over, I can learn your swordsmanship. Would that not be better?”

Fu Zihou spoke softly and did not accept the book.

In his heart, he was a complete stranger to this old man. He did not even know the man’s name or origins, much less why the old man had suddenly decided to teach him swordsmanship. Fu Zihou simply had no time to experiment with such a thing.

Moreover, he had always remembered Old Liu’s words.

All martial arts came down to only a few movements. As long as one’s reactions were fast enough and one’s movements swift enough, one could kill.

From the day he began learning martial arts, whether watching Cui Wenjin and Li Qiong wield their swords or personally leading troops into battle and slaying enemies, Fu Zihou had come to understand the essence of Old Liu’s teachings.

“You should learn it. It may save your life.”

The old man did not withdraw the book. He merely continued holding it out.

Seeing this, Fu Zihou looked at the solitary old man and thought for a moment before reluctantly taking the book. Perhaps the old man had no family, was blind and unable to care for himself, and had sought him out for that reason.

“Back then, Xu Jinpeng merely listened to a few words from his brother-in-law and gained some insight. Even that was enough for him to slash you. To obtain this sword technique, he even killed his own sister and brother-in-law. Had you not killed him all those years ago, I would not have come here today to pass this technique on to you.”

Though the old man was blind, and Fu Zihou had not yet spoken, he seemed already to have guessed what was in Fu Zihou’s mind.

Fu Zihou stared at the old man in astonishment.