Chapter 1: Nine Blades
When Wu Zhaoyun stepped into his house, what awaited him was not his wife, but a suspicious-looking man.
The man was sitting in Wu Zhaoyun's most cherished chair, rocking back and forth.
Wu Zhaoyun set down the dead deer and hunting tools he had been carrying on his shoulder, then removed his outer garment.
His underclothes were soaked with sweat.
Wu Zhaoyun flapped his underclothes to cool his sweat, took water from a cupboard, and drank.
Then he sat across from the man.
Silence passed for a moment.
A cunning smile played at the corners of the man's mouth.
Wu Zhaoyun spoke first.
"It's been a while, Senior Brother."
"Since you weren't home, I simply came in. The door was open, you see."
Wu Zhaoyun glared at the man with a bone-chilling gaze.
In the end, the man shrugged and said,
"Fine. Truth is, the door was locked. I picked it. Couldn't exactly stand outside. It's cold, after all."
"It is indeed cold."
"Yeah. Though not as cold as that underground cave where our beloved youngest Junior Brother locked us away. Isn't it strange when it's colder inside than out? Anyway, I said I picked the lock, didn't I? It's all thanks to our Junior Brother. With nothing else to occupy me, I spent ten years honing nothing but the art of lock-picking. In the end, I escaped that prison with that very skill."
"Then the other Senior Brothers have all gotten out as well?"
"Not all. The Second Senior Brother died."
The man furrowed his brows as if it were a regrettable matter.
"Early on. He couldn't manage the mental shock. How should I put it? It was conduct lacking aesthetic value."
"Then seven made it out."
"Exactly. You still remember the number of our martial brothers! I'm impressed. I marvel at your loyalty, Junior Brother. You should have stopped by to check on us once in a while."
"I was busy. And I thought everyone would get along fine without me. Had I known something like today would happen, I would have gone."
"That's a shame. Isn't it?"
The man laughed as if delighted.
But it was like the laughter of a gravely ill old man on the verge of death.
He had been in the underground cave for too long.
"Where are the other martial brothers?"
"I don't know. Everyone scattered. They'll be living their lives. Why, were you planning to visit and greet them?"
"To greet them, yes. And perhaps take care of other matters while I'm at it."
"Don't worry. They're just preoccupied right now. If you wait, they'll come find you. No need to go out of your way. You're the kind Junior Brother who let us spend ten years in that wonderful sanatorium where not a single ray of light seeps in—how could we just leave it at that? We must pay our respects. I got a lifetime's worth of sleep during those ten years, too."
"There's nothing to be grateful for."
"Of course, the Senior Brothers won't be able to meet you. They'll probably only find one grave. If I dig it for you, that is. Ah! No, they'll need two, not one!"
Wu Zhaoyun feigned indifference as he looked around.
Nothing had changed since he had left the house.
There weren't even any signs of a fight.
But he grew worried at not seeing his wife.
Masking his desperate hope that his wife had gone down to the lower village with indifference, he looked at his Senior Brother.
At the figure of the murderer once called Ghost Blade…….
It was a face he hadn't seen in a long time.
Not a welcome one.
The Nine Blades of the Jianghu.
Those nine martial brothers were called the Nine Blades.
Nine swordsmen. Nine blades. Nine murderers who filled the jianghu with terror.
Including the master who raised them, they were ten murderers.
Now, even including him, only eight remained; since he had retired from being a murderer, they were seven.
Ghost Blade hardened his expression and spoke.
"Just one question. Where is Master?"
"Master is dead."
"No. He isn't dead."
"You may believe that if you wish, but he is dead. A gaping hole was torn in his chest, and his breath ceased."
He didn't bother explaining who had made the hole.
"A hole in his chest?"
Ghost Blade smiled.
A smile as if he were dreaming.
"Master isn't dead."
"I am the one who confirmed his death and buried him in the earth with my own hands. What basis do you have?"
"I had a dream."
Ghost Blade pointed at his own head as he spoke.
"A dream of him screaming to be pulled out from beneath the ground."
"So it was an empty dream."
Perhaps Ghost Blade had gone mad.
Life in the underground cave had apparently been harder than expected.
"The other martial brothers besides me all had the same dream. Master's screams, I mean. A dream that leaves you sleepless. Did it not appear to you, Junior Brother?"
"Men do not appear in my dreams."
"So that's how it is."
An expression of envy flickered across Ghost Blade's face.
It was genuine.
Ghost Blade genuinely envied Wu Zhaoyun.
At least, it was no joke that they had been having nightmares.
"Where did you bury Master?"
"Are you planning to go dig him up? Do you truly believe Master is alive?"
Ghost Blade nodded.
"Senior Brother is a fool. You always have been."
At those words, Ghost Blade sprang to his feet and drew his blade.
It was the blunt-tipped blade Ghost Blade favored.
But Ghost Blade could not swing his blade.
Because Wu Zhaoyun's blade had already split his throat.
Ghost Blade's head flew through the air and fell to the ground.
Ghost Blade was dead.
Then crimson blood embroidered the air.
Wu Zhaoyun rose indifferently and searched the house.
He found his wife's corpse in the back room.
She lay dead, her teeth clenched in agony and terror.
There was nothing Wu Zhaoyun could do.
A salty liquid seeped into his mouth.
Tears.
Wu Zhaoyun burned the house down.
And he took up his blade.