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Hengshan Sect's Strongest Sword Cultivator

As a member of the Hengshan Sect, Zhao Rong's desire to straighten out the workplace grew ever stronger. As the saying goes, the martial world is slippery, and people's hearts are complicated. When it comes to art, our Hengshan Sect is crowded with big shots, the sound of Xiaoxiang's night rain, the study of Guangling San, making quite the noise. But when it comes to combat strength, who can boast about their DPS(damage per second)? Even Shangguan Yun, who could be laid out in a second by the demonic sect’s elders, had something to say, "I've been part of a raid against a world Boss, what achievements do you from Mount Heng have?" "Mr. Yue's sister store from next door is behind in management mode, it needs to align with Alliance Hierarch's five-year plan." "The direction must be clear." "We need to focus on combat strength, we need to develop the guild!" ……

A piece of perilla leaf · Oriental
Pas assez d’évaluations
309 Chs

Chapter 7: Senior of Yandang Mountain

Flipping through the yellowed pages, Zhao Rong harbored the slim hope that "the sword manual might be hidden within the music score."

The opening passages recorded the left-hand technique, right-hand technique.

"Southern Wind Song, Yi Lan Melody, Lament of the Xiang Consort..."

"This is undoubtedly a music score."

With waning interest, he closed the Ancient Tunes passed down from time immemorial, smacked his lips slightly, and largely understood the well-meaning intentions of Lu Shilai.

Pu Kui had mentioned that Lu Shilai's nominal master was Liu Zhengfeng.

Although he was not favored by Liu, he had served him with filial piety for many years and naturally knew his preferences well.

As a renowned music aficionado in the martial world, Liu made a wide array of friends; martial artists from all around showed him some respect, and his influence within the Hengshan Sect even surpassed that of Sect Leader Mo Da.

To gain the appreciation of such a revered senior, it was of course necessary to cater to his interests.

If the old master asked you whether you understood music and could play the qin, and you responded that you could only 'play cotton,'

how could you expect him to teach you the Returning Wind Wild Goose Sword?

Though Lu Shilai's gift of the Ancient Tunes score was not explicitly meaningful, in this moment, silence was more telling than words.

Considering everything, Zhao Rong opened the music score, a slight smile forming at the corner of his mouth.

During these first few days as a Changrui Escort Agency foot soldier, instead of hastily arranging convoy duties, Lu Shilai, who knew Zhao Rong's background well, first assigned him tasks near the Luoli Wharf, not far from the Zhao Family Fort.

On regular days, he'd unload and load cargo and do some bodyguard work, which also allowed him to keep an eye on the fish-selling booths in the western market.

Based on the monthly interest payment of two taels of silver, without Lu Shilai's connections, he wouldn't have landed such an easy job.

Of course, tasks like feeding the horses, sitting at the dock, handling errands, loading and unloading, or shouldering burdens occasionally fell to Zhao Rong as well.

Every foot soldier went through this, along with guidance from experienced escorts, allowing newcomers to quickly get on track.

Zhao Rong, polite and humble, and with Pu Kui's introduction, quickly became familiar with several escorts who had traveled far and wide. Engaging in conversations and discussions with them, in a short period, Zhao Rong broadened his knowledge and learned many things he couldn't on the fishing boats.

For instance, if during a conflict an escort shouted, "Check the horse ahead, prepare the concealed cyanide," everyone would ready their hidden weapons. If you stood there dumbfounded, you might end up losing your life due to sluggishness.

The secret jargon of the road, martial world anecdotes—even though the escorts often boasted and exaggerated, Zhao Rong genuinely enjoyed listening to them.

However, once when he inadvertently mentioned the nickname "Invincible East" of Blackwood Cliff, the faces of several escorts changed dramatically.

Within the southern compound of the Escort Agency was a spacious stable housing over twenty fine horses.

Under the instruction of a horse trainer, Zhao Rong learned to ride.

This was arranged by Head Escort Lu, as horse riding is a fundamental skill for an escort.

The duties of an escort were not limited to goods; they also included letter escorts, note escorts, silver escorts, grain escorts, and personal escorts. Sometimes, one had to travel fast, and if one couldn't even ride a horse, how could one traverse from south to north and make one's way through the martial world?

In a few days, Zhao Rong mastered basic riding and could handle amiable horses.

To achieve unity between horse and rider would require much more experience over time.

In mid-September, as the third autumn waned, the fishing boats from the Zhao Family Fort safely returned from Tanshui.

Zhao Rong knew the timing of Changrui's departures; taking the Xiang River route to Changsha Prefecture and passing through Tanshui. Besides the people dispatched by the Escort Agency, the Red Wolf Gang provided protection too, and the Hai Sha Gang of Sha Corner Island wouldn't dare make a rash move.

Taking advantage of this to go fishing was much safer, a clear benefit of having access to information.

Nearly a month into his time at Changrui Escort Agency, Zhao Rong led a fulfilling life.

The only trouble was a bottleneck in his training; his martial prowess was improving slowly.

"Lu Shilai has the tradition of paying respects to his master at the end of the year; it seems the opportunity will come in three months."

Emerging from Changrui Escort Agency as the sky darkened, Zhao Rong sat at a roadside stall on Western Temple Street and ordered some wontons to eat.

The wonton seller was an old man who stood hunched over beside his carrying pole, lifting the lid of the pot to let steam billow out, then tossing the wontons into the boiling soup, making three large bowls for Zhao Rong.

The autumn wind was cool, the moon bright. Fallen leaves gathered and scattered, the roosting crows startled into flight.

As Zhao Rong ate his wontons, he gazed up at the moon, thinking of the past, the future, and all manner of things, his thoughts scattering and leaving him somewhat absent-minded.

Suddenly, his muscles tensed up, and he was overcome with a sense of urgency.

His skin perceived a subtle pressure, as if an invisible gaze was piercing through him.

He involuntarily looked toward a pitch-dark alleyway beside him. The dry yellow leaves stuck to the stone road, the earth-yellow walls covered in cracks, and above, several nightingales perched on bricks flew away with a "squawk" as Zhao Rong glanced over.

Dark clouds hid the moon, and the pitch-black sky pressed down.

Someone is watching me?

Feeling uneasy, Zhao Rong felt a cool sensation from the pendant on his chest, which calmed him down.

He suddenly noticed the old peddler who was selling wontons also looking towards the narrow alley.

The old man turned his head back to gaze at Zhao Rong, a look of suspicion appearing on his wrinkled face.

"Your intuition is indeed sharp. The person just now moved extremely quickly, his light-body skills must mark him as an expert," the old man said.

The old man then chuckled mockingly:

"But it seems he didn't expect you to notice him. His hasty leap over the wall was quite clumsy, a bit laughable, actually."

Laughable?

Zhao Rong was filled with fear and had no idea why he had been targeted.

The wonton peddler was also a master, and Zhao Rong hadn't noticed at all.

"Senior, when did that person arrive?"

"Not too long ago. He arrived when you sat down for your first bowl of wontons," the old man replied while packing up his bowls and chopsticks.

"Does senior know where he comes from?"

"I do not."

"Three bowls of wontons, ten copper coins each, that's thirty copper coins in total. Finish your meal and settle the account, I have to close up shop," said the old man.

Zhao Rong hurriedly took out his copper coins, counting out thirty and not daring to give more.

Looking at this seemingly ordinary old man, Zhao Rong ventured a guess: "Could you be Senior He from Yandang Mountain in southern Zhejiang?"

The wonton peddler first showed surprise, then laughed heartily, "At such a young age, you actually recognize me."

"There are many rumors on Jianghu. Senior He Sanqi of Yandang Mountain roams the martial world with exceptional martial arts and acts with chivalry. People of the martial world speak of you with great respect."

Zhao Rong thought to himself that he had identified the right person and immediately added, "I've heard the carriers at Changrui Escort Agency talk about you, remember this wonton stand, and, seeing senior's noble demeanor, I made a guess."

He Sanqi, by nature indifferent towards fame, paid no mind to Zhao Rong's flattering words.

"Young brother, you need not worry too much. That person had no killing intent; otherwise, he would have just overpowered you openly, why the need for stealth?" he said.

Upon reflection, Zhao Rong realized He Sanqi made a lot of sense.

But being watched secretly was always uncomfortable.

Who could this person be...?

He Sanqi packed up his wonton stand and disappeared at the street corner.

Zhao Rong stood on Western Temple Street, looking at the market's lights, feeling the autumn chill intensifying.

Suddenly, a noisy gong and drum procession sounded from the direction of the escort agency.

"Water leakage!"

"There's water leakage!"

"Quick, someone come, the escort agency has a leak!"

What?

Zhao Rong frowned deeply at the words, just after finishing his wontons and feeling replenished, he hurried back to the agency with long strides.

With the naked eye, thick smoke could be seen billowing from inside the agency.

...

What Zhao Rong did not know was, just after he had left, a slender figure in black appeared at the spot where he had just been standing.

This person had a refined appearance and watched in the direction where Zhao Rong had vanished.

A look of curiosity was hidden in his gaze.

...

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