022. The Daughter of Xi Shi-A Hundred Schools of Thought: Three Sentences That Led to Expulsion from the Sect(The Thirty-Six Principles of Master Dongxuan)

As the cry to catch the assassin echoed, a commotion erupted outside the cabin. Fierce sounds of combat, shouts, rebukes, and the clashing of weapons filled the air, unceasing and intense.

Wei Wuji and Wang Yu remained unflustered. By the pale moonlight reflected off the water outside the window, they rose silently. Wang Yu had the multicolored auspicious qilin by his side, so his heart was steady. Wei Wuji likely had his own means of protection as well; otherwise, he would never have traveled the long road from Wei to Mount Tai—over a thousand miles—without being robbed along the way.

They had just stood up, not yet making a move, when suddenly there was an urgent banging at the door. Alongside the pounding came the ringing of blades, clearly signaling that the visitors meant harm.

Wang Yu stepped back and signaled to Wei Wuji with his eyes: Brother Wuji, this is up to you. Wei Wuji understood that Wang Yu had no cultivation whatsoever, so he did not hesitate. Wei Wuji himself was no amateur; his mastery of the military arts was already profound. His teacher was among the martial sages of the military school—Wu Qi himself.

Wu Qi had studied Confucianism before abandoning it for military strategy, whereas Wei Wuji, in contrast, was inclined to leave the military path for the scholarly. According to the classification of the military school, Wei Wuji possessed the strength of "one who can defeat a hundred," a straightforward hierarchy: one-man enemy, ten-man enemy, hundred-man enemy, thousand-man enemy, ten-thousand-man enemy, enemy of a nation, enemy of the world, enemy of all times, martial sage.

A "hundred-man enemy" means one whose strength alone could stand against a hundred trained soldiers.

Wei Wuji drew the sword at his waist, flung open the door, and with a flash of cold steel, countless sword blossoms gleamed, their icy brilliance stabbing outward. He was ruthless—unconcerned about who was outside; he would kill first and ask questions later. It was the quintessential mindset of the military school: only dead enemies are good enemies.

In a matter of moments, screams rang out beyond the door. Within a short time, Wei Wuji had slaughtered his way in and out three times, and the area around their cabin grew quiet, a sharp contrast to the chaos above on the third deck.

Wei Wuji entered with a calm expression, wiping the blood from his treasured sword with a silk cloth he had acquired from who knows where. As he cleaned the blade, he asked Wang Yu, "Brother Hongjian, shall we go up?"

Wang Yu thought for a moment. "Let's go up. If something happens to this boat, we'll suffer the consequences as well. For our own sake, let's help the owners of the ship."

Wei Wuji clearly agreed, so the two stepped out, climbing up to the third deck under the moonlight.

By now, the third deck had fallen silent. Two groups faced off in a tense standoff.

One group was led by a woman. She wore a rose-scented fitted robe with pink sleeves, a skirt of emerald mist adorned with scattered flowers, and a golden silk sash tied in a large butterfly bow at her waist. Her hair was swept low, pinned with a jade phoenix hairpin, shoulders slim and waist narrow, tall and slender, with an oval face, bright eyes, elegant brows, and a gaze full of spirit and brilliance—her beauty was transcendent.

Truly a woman of peerless allure, a beauty to topple cities.

Behind her, on the left, stood a middle-aged man clad in a long robe cinched at the waist, holding a long blade. His brows were bold, his eyes sharp; clearly, he was no ordinary person. On her right was the maidservant from earlier in the day, though her state now was poor—blood stained her lips, as if she had been injured. Behind them, armored soldiers stood fully armed, each holding a repeating crossbow pointed at the opposing group.

Facing them were figures dressed all in black, faces masked, obviously concealing their identities.

The matchless beauty’s face was cold as ice, her brows tightly furrowed, her voice glacial: "Dogs of the Lying-on-Wood Pavilion, retreat at once, or do you not fear rousing the sword masters of Jixia?"

Wang Yu and Wei Wuji arrived on the third deck just in time to hear her words.

Wang Yu was puzzled and quietly asked Wei Wuji, "Brother Wuji, what is this Lying-on-Wood Pavilion?"

Wei Wuji replied, "The Lying-on-Wood Pavilion is no ordinary thing; it’s the assassination and intelligence agency of Yue, established by King Goujian. It is said to be filled with countless death warriors, a powerful tool for Goujian’s rule."

Indeed, Goujian—famed for his endurance, lying on firewood to strengthen his resolve. Clearly, he took pride in his hardships. Yet, Goujian was truly a man of great ambition—enduring what others could not, achieving what others could not, with immense courage, patience, decisiveness, and vision.

If the woman’s claims were true, then the king’s intentions were hardly magnanimous. After all, this was a merchant ship bearing the banner of the Fan clan; who else could Goujian covet so much besides Tao Zhu Gong, Fan Li himself?

So, what was the identity of the woman before them?

Wang Yu had little time to speculate, as the Lying-on-Wood Pavilion agents provided the answer.

The leader in black let out a bizarre cackle: "Fan Huansha, it is your fortune that the king favors you. Your withered mother was beneath his notice. I advise you to follow us obediently, or do you truly believe the Fan clan can stand against the king?"

Heavens! The beauty was Xi Shi’s daughter—no wonder she was so stunning. Judging by her name and surname, she was most likely the daughter of Fan Li and Xi Shi.

To be honest, Wang Yu was quite curious about Fan Li. Xi Shi was a peerless beauty, devoted to him, yet he gave her away to another and later reclaimed her, retiring together. Truly, the old man was a legend; his skill in winning women was extraordinary.

Yet, to hear such things from others was nothing but an insult.

Fan Huansha was clearly enraged by the black-clad man's shamelessness. The fair skin of her exposed neck heaved rapidly, revealing the depth of her anger.

As the saying goes, when the master is insulted, the servant must die. The black-clad man’s venomous words not only insulted her but her entire household.

The middle-aged man with the long blade immediately raised his thick brows and shouted, "Shameless cur, prepare to die!"

With that, he strode forward to cut down the Lying-on-Wood Pavilion dogs.

This man was a disciple of Fan Li, highly cultivated, confident he could dispatch these foes in a few moves and toss their bodies to the river.

But the black-clad man clearly had something up his sleeve. Calmly, he pointed to the ground. "Zhao Luan, you dare kill me?"

Zhao Luan laughed heartily. "Shameless dog, one stroke is all it takes to end your life."

The black-clad man laughed as well. "I know your reputation, Zhao Luan—one man, one blade, clearing the thirty-six pirates of the Eastern Sea, famed as the Eastern Sea Blade. Aren’t you curious why I know your name yet still stand before you?"

With that, he took a small bottle from his breast, making a show of opening the cap for Zhao Luan to see.

Instantly, a dazzling golden cloud floated out, shifting into various shapes.

Zhao Luan's expression changed, as if recalling something. "Liquid Gold?"

The black-clad man nodded approvingly. "Indeed, the Eastern Sea Blade. Your knowledge is extraordinary. Since you recognize Liquid Gold, you must know its power."