Chapter 78: So-Called Courage

"Who goes there?" the river pirate barked harshly.

His answer was a flash of icy swordlight.

With a single stroke to the throat, the pirate collapsed onto the deck with a muffled thud, scarlet blood gushing forth and hissing as it touched the blazing fire.

It had been ages since Ning Xiu last wore that grim demon mask. Now, gazing at the hellish scene before him, he felt a surge in his chest, as if the youth who once avenged the wicked on that snowy night had returned.

These river pirates were not especially formidable; only their leader could be considered half-decent, approaching the strength of a second-grade master. But before Ning Xiu, all of them were dispatched with a single sword stroke.

Amid the firelight, shrill screams of agony echoed unceasingly.

Even from a distance, Ye Gang and his men heard the commotion, a chill running down their spines.

Soon, the screams came to an abrupt end.

Ning Xiu emerged from the inferno, cradling a child in one arm and dragging a pirate by the scruff like a carcass in the other. With a light leap, he landed on a nearby small boat, then turned and struck the hull several times.

A burst of force propelled the boat toward the merchant vessel.

Behind them, the large ship continued to burn, until nothing but ashes remained.

...

When Ning Xiu returned to the ship, Ye Gang and the others were still in shock.

"Se-senior..." Zhang Long and his two brothers stepped forward, about to greet him.

"Watch over him."

Without so much as a glance, Ning Xiu tossed the captured pirate to them, then carried the child below deck.

Ye Gang exchanged a glance with Biao Shu at his side and followed.

The child Ning Xiu had rescued was the sole survivor from the other burning ship. Perhaps traumatized, the boy was drenched in cold sweat, trembling with fever.

"Are there medicines onboard?" Ning Xiu asked.

"Uh... yes, there are," Biao Shu replied, startled but quick to answer.

Given how long they spent at sea, the merchant ship always kept basic herbs in stock for emergencies.

"Take me there," Ning Xiu said, rising and leading Biao Shu outside.

"Right away."

...

There were not many medicinal herbs on board. Ning Xiu gathered sour jujube kernels and rehmannia root, then sent someone to the galley for polished rice. The jujube and rehmannia were decocted, their juice added to the rice to make a medicinal porridge.

He also took a small piece of ginseng and some poria, grinding them with jujube kernels into a fine powder, which he administered to the child with warm water.

Before long, the cold sweat on the child's body faded, the pain on his face eased, and soon he fell into a deep sleep.

Ning Xiu stood, turning to Biao Shu, and said, "When he wakes, bring him the porridge. And remember, do not mention tonight—speak no words that might distress him."

"I've made note," Biao Shu replied respectfully.

...

Night was as dark as ink, and the silver moon hung like a hook.

Across the frigid river, a lone skiff sliced through the endless night.

The night wind blew; Zhang Long’s drunkenness had long since faded. Looking back at Ning Xiu, who sat with eyes closed in silent repose, his heart churned with conflicting emotions.

Why had he acted on impulse and followed him here?

"Regretting your decision?"

A startled cry from a night bird split the darkness, making Zhang Long jump.

He looked at Ning Xiu, stammering, "S-senior..."

To say he felt no regret was a lie. After all, they were headed straight into the notorious den of the Jinghe river pirates.

"Regret is meaningless now," Ning Xiu said, opening his eyes and gazing at Zhang Long. "You’ve passed the point of no return."

Truth be told, he hadn’t expected Li Long to come along—perhaps it was just a fleeting impulse, but it proved he had more courage than his two brothers.

"When you return, you’ll have a new story to tell," Ning Xiu said with a faint smile. "Now, row properly."

Under the cold moonlight, the solitary skiff gradually vanished into darkness.

...

Jinghe River Pirates—Nine-Bend Fortress.

"According to our scouts, there’s been some movement from the Jianggang Sect lately. They’re barely keeping their heads above water themselves—how could they still have time to meddle with us?"

Fortress Chief Peng Hu set down the secret report from his informant, pacing his room with growing agitation.

"Zhou Shuo and his lot are taking forever. It was only a mid-sized merchant ship—why haven’t they returned yet?"

"Hmph, probably out having their fun again. Even so, by now, they should be back."

Ordinarily, this wouldn’t have concerned him; he knew the habits of his men all too well. But tonight, the spy’s urgent message weighed on his mind.

He couldn’t help but worry.

Peng Hu strode out of his quarters. Below, several men were gambling with dice and tiles.

"Xiao Wang, who’s on night watch tonight?"

"Boss," one pirate replied, setting down his tiles, "the Yao brothers, Ben and Fei, are on duty, and Third Chief is at the gate. Is something wrong?"

"Third Chief?" Peng Hu looked toward the distant entrance of the fortress, a faint sense of dread creeping over him. "Send someone to tell him to double the guard."

"Yes, boss!"

No sooner had he spoken than a subordinate dashed off to deliver the message.

Feeling slightly more at ease, Peng Hu turned back to his room, ready to rest. Suddenly, a series of thunderous explosions echoed from afar.

Startled, he seized his chain-blade and rushed outside. "What’s going on?"

His men, still stunned, poured out of their rooms, looking toward the source. The harbor at the fortress entrance was now a sea of flames, fire raging in the night wind.

"Boss, it’s the entrance—our ships are burning!"

"Was it the Jianggang Sect?"

Peng Hu’s face darkened.

"How many did they send?"

"Brothers, grab your weapons, prepare for battle!"

Chaos erupted; pirates scrambled back inside, snatching up blades and spears.

"What the hell is Third Chief doing, not even firing a signal arrow for an enemy attack!"

At that moment, Peng Hu froze.

A bloodied human head rolled from the darkness, illuminated by the flickering lamplight. In the shadows, a vague figure slowly emerged.

"Hmm, is this the Third Chief you just mentioned?" the figure said, voice cold. "Regrettably, he won’t be firing any signal arrows. Though, to be fair, he did try in his final moment."

"You’re not with the Jianggang Sect... Who—who are you?"

Peng Hu stared at the masked man before him, a chill running through his heart.