The fifteenth day of the first mont

The fifteenth day of the first month of the lunar calendar.

Chang’an. (1)

Zhuo Donglai shut the door, closing out the wind and snow that for a thousand years had been a part of the ancient city of Chang’an. (2) He took off his violet, sable-fur coat and hung it on the violet-red sandalwood coat hanger propped to his left. In his right hand he held a set of violet-red copper tongs, which he used to stoke the fire in the violet-red copper brazier in front of him, a brazier which was never extinguished.

Next to the brazier was a violet-red sandalwood chair, over which was draped a fur of violet-red sable. Next to the chair was a violet-red sandalwood table, upon which was a violet crystal bottle, filled with Persian red wine.

It only took two steps to reach the table, upon which he could at leisure pour himself a cup of wine.

He liked the color violet. (3)

He liked famous race horses, beautiful women, luxurious clothes, and good wine. He liked to enjoy himself.

He was extremely particular and picky, and always planned everything meticulously. He was never willing to waste even the slightest amount of energy, and was also never careless. He didn’t even make exceptions for small everyday matters of life.

This was Zhuo Donglai.

Perhaps it was because he was this type of person that he had managed to stay alive to this day,

He sat down and took a sip of wine.

The warmth of the luxurious and beautiful room, the fragrant, sweet wine, had already driven the cold from his body. He suddenly felt very tired.

The past two days of preparation for tonight’s grand ceremony had already thrown his normal routines into chaos.

He definitely could not allow any mistakes. Even the smallest mistake could lead to a larger blunder, a blunder which might never be remedied. And if that happened, not only would he feel guilty for the rest of his life; his master would also be implicated. In fact, it could even affect all Jianghu.

The most important thing was that he could not allow Sima Chaoqun’s life or reputation to be harmed in any way, especially now, at the peak of his success. (4)

A person like him, who had worked so hard to become an idol to the heroes of Jianghu, must succeed in every undertaking, must never fail.

There were two things in life that Zhuo Donglai could not tolerate: mistakes and failure.

**

Sima Chaoqun was already undefeatable.

He rose to prominence in Jianghu at the age of eighteen. Throughout his thirty-three major battles, he had never once been defeated.

He was tall, strong and handsome, with a mighty and bold disposition. His rugged face always carried a bright smile. Even his enemies could not deny that he was a unique man, and there would never be a shortage of beautiful women willing to accompany him. And yet, he was completely faithful not only to his wife, but also to his children and his friends. Not once had he been involved in any sort of scandal.

He was extremely proud of this.

However, what was most worthy of pride in his life was what he had accomplished in the past two years. Using all of his martial arts ability, wisdom, good character and forthright work ethic, had traveled the road between Heshuo in the Central plains (5), all the way to Northeast China, persuading 39 of the greatest heroes and bandits to join him. Rising from the depths of the underworld to the pinnacle of righteousness, he had organized a never-before seen Great Protection Agency. For reasonable rates, they protected any trader or traveler in the region.

No mishap had every befallen anyone who stood under the protection of their violet-bordered satin banner, emblazoned upon which was the character “Great.”

This was an unprecedented, glorious achievement in the world of Jianghu. And it was something that could not be achieved using iron and blood alone.

**

Sima Chaoqun was currently thirty six years of age, and he could already be considered an idol to the heroes of Jianghu – An invicible heroic idol.

Only he and Zhuodonglai knew what it truly took to attain this position.

Part 2

After finishing his first cup of wine, Zhuo Donglai once more thought through the plan for the night’s grand ceremony, from start to finish.

He always drank slowly, but thought extremely quickly.

Today was the first time ever that Sima Chaoqun would accept a personal disciple. From whosever perspective you looked at it, this matter would cause a huge sensation in Jianghu.

The most shocking part of it all was that Sima Chaoqun’s first disciple was Yang Jian, who had just one month ago betrayed the “Central Plains Lion Clan.” (6)

Among the forty groups of heroes who occupied the northern roads, the Lion Clan was the only one who refused to join Sima Chaoqun’s alliance. They were also the largest and most powerful of the clans.

Yang Jian had been one of the four most trusted lieutenants of the Lion Clan Leader, Mr. Zhu.

No one in Jianghu would ever have imagined that Yang Jian would betray the Lion Clan. But everyone knew that the day after Yang Jian left the clan, “Fierce Lion” Zhu Meng had sent messages throughout the martial world, expressing his opinion.

—No matter the sect, school or clan, anyone who gave haven to Yang Jian was an enemy of the Lion Clan, and would receive full and unequivocal retribution.

And now, Sima Chaoqun was not only giving him haven, he was opening the doors wide, lighting incense, and accepting him as a disciple.

**

Even though the Lion Clan had not joined Sima Chaoqun’s “Great Protection Agency,” they had also not opposed him, let alone attempted to overthrow him. (7)

“Fierce Lion” Zhu Meng was sinister, fierce, and cold-blooded. He was not the type of person to trifle with, and when he made a promise, he kept it. If he made it known that he would fight dirty in order to win, then he would use any and all methods to secure victory.

In fact, in order to achieve his goals, he wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice the heads of his 3,800 subordinates and disciples.

What he cherished most in life was a woman named Die Wu. (8)

Die Wu was beautiful, and her dancing even more beautiful.

The man who comprehended the beauty of women more than anyone in the world, the Marquis Di Qinglin, once had an opportunity to watch her dance before he passed away. He was left speechless. Later, others would ask him how he felt about her dancing, and after a very long time he would sigh and say, “I can’t say. I’ve never seen a mortal person with such legs, never imagined that they could even exist.”

**

Everyone in Jianghu was convinced that no matter the circumstances, Zhu Meng would never let Yang Jian off.

Even if he held off on moving against Sima Chaoqun, he would definitely kill Yang Jian.

Zhuo Donglai disagreed.

He believed that no matter the situation, Zhu Meng wouldn’t touch a hair on Yang Jian’s head.

He was convinced.

**

The grand ceremony would be public. Those who received invitation cards could enter the inner chamber as Sima Chaoqun’s personal guests. Those without invitation cards could congregate in the outer courtyard to observe.

Among the disciples of the Lion Clan, there were many who had survived hundreds of battles and killed countless enemies.

In Jianghu, there were many professional assassins who could kill well-protected targets in the twinkling of an eye. Any of these people could show up, blend into the crowd, and wait for an opportunity to kill Yang Jian.

Throughout the course of the grand ceremony, there would be many such opportunities.

But Zhuo Donglai believed that the ceremony would be completed smoothly, and that not a hair on Yang Jian’s head would be harmed.

The reason was that he had calculated every possible situation and circumstance; every person who could possibly pose a threat to Yang Jian was under his surveillance.

In preparation, he had already dispatched 186 top-notch masters from the “Northern Roads 39 Great Protection Agencies,” each of whom could easily handle 27 or 28 opponents.

Zhuo Donglai had split them into eight groups, each of whom would take responsibility for a different area.

But one of the groups he set aside especially to deal with three people.

**

“Which three people?”

That morning, Sima Chaoqun had asked Zhuo Donglai, “Why do you need a whole group to deal with them?”

Zhuo Donglai only needed to speak the names of two of the people to answer the question.

“Because of the three people, one is Han Zhang and the other is the Wooden Chicken.” (9)

At the moment, Sima Chaoqun was eating.

He was a strapping man, and needed lots of rich food to maintain his vigorous physique.

His breakfast this morning was a beef loin that weighed about three pounds, along with ten eggs and a huge helping of fruits and vegetables.

The beef was slow roasted over charcoal, covered with spices and juicy sauce, and was extremely tender.

This was one of his favorite foods, but as soon as he heard these two names, he dropped the curved Persian knife he was using to cut the meat. He stared at Zhuo Donglai with eyes as sharp as knives.

“Han Zhang and the Wooden Chicken are both here?”

“Yes.”

“Have you seen them before?”

“I haven’t.” Zhuo Donglai calmly continued, “I’m sure no one here has ever seen them.”

Most people in Jianghu had heard of them, but few had ever seen them.

Han Zhang was the same as Yang Jian. He was a lieutenant of the “Fierce Lion,” one of his most trusted followers, and also one of the most dangerous.

Zhu Meng rarely let him leave his side.

The Wooden Chicken was even more dangerous than Han Zhang.

He had no home and no permanent residence. He had no set pattern of life, and therefore, was impossible to find.

But if someone needed him, and he believed that he needed that person, he would suddenly appear.

What he normally required of others was pearls, jewels, gold or huge amounts of bank notes.

What others normally required of him were his flying noose and his two blades.