Chapter 7

As night fell, the Mingyu Tower was brightly lit. In the study at the top, John Walker, dressed in a silver python robe and with a jade crown on his head, stood on the terrace. In front of him was a painting table; holding a golden brush, he was sketching the eyebrows of a handsome man on paper:

“Let David Harris go ask about his family background. I didn’t expect this young man to be so skilled... That slash just now was somewhat similar to the opening move of the ‘Eight-Step Mad Blade’. Could this boy be a disciple of Thomas Clark?”

Behind John Walker stood an old woman with white hair trailing to the ground, her figure ethereal, as if she were a shadow behind John Walker:

“I saw Thomas Clark back in the day—his moves weren’t this light. This boy seems to have good natural talent, but ‘form without force’; it’s likely he just happened to mimic the move.”

“It’s said that Thomas Clark’s master, Mad Fang, once stole the ‘Ming Dragon Scroll’ from the palace. If this boy knows the ‘Eight-Step Mad Blade’, there must be some connection to that matter...”

The white-haired old woman asked, “Should we send someone to test him?”

John Walker pondered briefly, then shook his head: “Rumors from the martial world before the founding of the nation aren’t worth making a big fuss over. First, investigate his background. If he’s clean, once the portrait is finished, send it to His Majesty for a look. With such good looks, His Majesty might take a liking to him.”

“Yes.”

……

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Chapter Four: An Uninvited Guest

Night had fallen on Dyer’s Street, Shuanggui Alley.

Henry Blake led an old horse through the dim alley, glancing around.

Lucy, after wandering all day, was in a good mood, lying atop the saddlebag on the horse’s back, paws up, gazing at the stars and humming a little tune:

“Jiji ji~...”

Just from the name, Dyer’s Street was clearly a poor district crowded with handicraft workshops. Now it had fallen on hard times, with only a few small workshops left nearby, and once night fell, it was rare to see a soul.

Shuanggui Alley was even more deserted, neglected for years, with so many leaves piled on the road that stepping on them made a soft ‘scritch-scratch~~’ sound.

They’d just made a round at the job market. There were plenty of jobs, but any that paid three strings of cash a month were hotly contested.

As the saying goes, “scholars are poor, warriors are rich.” As a martial artist, Henry Blake needed quite a bit of silver just to buy all the training equipment, not to mention the huge appetite of a fighter. Clearly, these jobs wouldn’t cut it.

Though he hadn’t found a job, he had at least secured a place to stay. Henry Blake had thought that two taels of silver wouldn’t be enough to settle anywhere in the capital, but after asking around, he discovered a hidden gem in Shuanggui Alley—over a dozen courtyards along the alley, all owned by the same landlady. Two taels of silver per year, and you could pick any house you liked.

Henry Blake paid half a year’s rent, but the landlady didn’t even give him a key. When he came to check, it was just as he expected—over a dozen old courtyards in disrepair, almost none of the walls were uncracked, and only two or three doors were intact. It seemed that even for free, few would want to live here.

With just himself and Lucy to feed, Henry Blake didn’t mind. He picked a half-decent-looking courtyard and pushed the door open.

The yard was covered in fallen leaves, the doors and windows all open, and inside was empty except for a bed frame—no tables or chairs at all.

“Ji...”

Lucy hopped off the horse’s back, circled the room, then looked at Henry Blake with big, shiny black eyes, as if to say—why don’t we go back to stay with Big Sis?

Henry Blake ignored Lucy, tied the horse in a corner of the yard, fed it some hay, then took the bedding off the horse’s back.

Clack, clack—

The fire striker sparked, and soon the dim candlelight filled the bare, chilly house.

Henry Blake leaned his saber against the wall and looked around the empty room. Suddenly, he noticed the floor was quite clean, and the dry straw for the bed was a bit sunken. Looking closer, he found a long hair.

“Hm?”

Henry Blake picked up the hair and examined it—the quality was good, so it couldn’t have been there long; someone must have stayed here recently.

But in this era, both men and women wore long hair, so it was impossible to tell the owner’s gender.

Maybe it was left by the previous tenant...

Henry Blake was a bit puzzled, but didn’t think much of it. He tossed the hair outside and started making the bed with the sheets and bedding.

Lucy was being mischievous, pecking at the little bundle, trying to get at the jerky inside.

“Still eating? Don’t you see we’re living in this dump? If we can’t get any more silver, I’ll have to sell you for cash next month.”

“Ji~”

Lucy hopped twice, indicating it was just chubby and wouldn’t fetch much money.

Henry Blake had just smoothed out the sheets when he suddenly heard a faint sound outside:

Whoosh—

It was as if a breeze had swept into the yard, stirring up the fallen leaves on the ground.

Henry Blake frowned, gripped the hilt of his saber, and looked out through the purely decorative window.

There was another figure in the yard!

In the pitch dark, the silver moon shone like frost. The moonlight over the wall illuminated only half the yard.

The figure stood between light and shadow, wrapped in a cloak, wearing a bamboo hat, making it impossible to tell if they were fat or thin, male or female, and holding a long spear wrapped in black cloth at a slant.

The figure didn’t move a muscle or say a word—clearly not here with good intentions.

Henry Blake subtly gestured for Lucy to quietly go find the head bodyguard, then slid his saber into his belt and walked to the door:

“Who are you? Is this your place?”

Of course, the person in the bamboo hat was the big sister who came to check on the young man in the middle of the night.