12. The Mysterious Stranger

Hearing that voice, Bai Zongnan nodded in satisfaction, finally allowing himself a sigh of relief. These occasional, disembodied narrations were like the string tethering a kite, tugging at him, reminding him of the mystery of his birth and his true identity. Without them, Bai Zongnan couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t be absorbed by this mythic world if he stayed too long; if he couldn’t return, he would be like a kite whose string had snapped.

“My, what a display of skill! In the world of outlaws, you’d count among the very best,” Mu Sheng exclaimed, approaching the masked man. He checked to ensure the man was still alive before slowly rising to his feet, though his face remained a shade pale.

“Sir, you flatter me,” Bai Zongnan replied with a gentle smile.

Mu Sheng shook his head and sighed. “You’re too modest, young man. You’ve saved an old man’s life. How ever can I repay you?”

“Repay me? Sir, your presence here must be for some special reason. As friends, there’s no need to speak of repayment.” Bai Zongnan waved off the suggestion, then asked, “By the way, sir, should I call you Mu Sheng, or might I address you as the Great Hero Mu?”

“Oh?” Mu Sheng was taken aback. “You just spoke to me in secret transmission, didn’t you?”

Mu Sheng caught on and nodded. “Ah, so that’s it.”

“But the martial art you displayed just now—is that the Great Mercy Bell Shield, the secret art of our Tang Empire?”

“Yes, my master taught it to me.”

“Then we truly do share similar fates,” Mu Sheng said with a wry smile. “Only one person has ever mastered the Great Mercy Bell Shield, and I, unlike you, had no master nor such good fortune.”

“Come now, Great Hero Mu, don’t misunderstand. My master is a man who only loves chanting sutras and eating vegetarian meals—he’s no man of martial ways.”

As their conversation unfolded, the distance between them diminished, replaced by an increasing sense of trust.

Mu Sheng clapped Bai Zongnan on the shoulder. “There’s still a hundred miles to Erlong Mountain, and it will be much trouble traveling with these two young ladies. Why not settle them somewhere safe before we continue?”

“Very well,” Bai Zongnan agreed.

They quickly decided to place Mu Yun and Mu Xue, the sisters, into the carriage Mu Sheng had prepared, then set off toward Erlong Mountain together.

As for the other masked man in black, he had vanished without a trace.

…

“What is this?” At the foot of Erlong Mountain, Bai Zongnan frowned at the towering peak before him. “Is this Erlong Mountain? It’s so high, it’ll be a challenge just to climb it.”

“This range stretches for a hundred miles and is shrouded in miasma all year round. Ordinary folk can never reach the summit. That’s how it got its name,” Mu Sheng explained.

“And not just that—there are poisonous insects and ferocious beasts aplenty here. The slightest carelessness could cost a person their life.”

“Venomous creatures and beasts, eh? That’s troublesome,” Bai Zongnan thought to himself, then asked, “Great Hero Mu, how far are we from the foot of Erlong Mountain?”

“About two hours’ journey,” Mu Sheng replied.

“Good. Let’s go, then.”

The Erlong range wound in serpentine fashion; the higher they climbed, the thicker the mists became, until they could scarcely see their own hands before their faces.

But for martial artists, poor visibility was no real obstacle. The two dashed along the mountain paths, quickly reaching halfway up the slope.

By now, Mu Sheng had recovered most of his strength. With his treasured blade slung across his back, he moved with remarkable speed, soon reaching the mountain’s summit.

There, a cave awaited.

“After you, Great Hero Mu,” Bai Zongnan said, gesturing toward the entrance.

Mu Sheng nodded and entered first, only to discover many corpses scattered within—the aftermath of a violent clash, it appeared, with all combatants perishing here.

The cave seemed to be riddled with mechanisms. Bai Zongnan led the way, deftly avoiding traps and thorns, until they reached the end of the cavern.

There, to his surprise, a small stream flowed.

“A pool?”

Bai Zongnan was startled, narrowing his eyes.

There was water in the pool, and at its bottom, stone slabs.

A secret chamber revealed itself!

“A… secret passageway?” A spark of excitement lit Bai Zongnan’s eyes.

If this was true, then his suspicions had all been confirmed.

“Great Hero Mu, let’s go down! This is a shortcut—it will save us much effort and time,” Bai Zongnan urged.

Mu Sheng nodded in agreement.

In Lu Da’s memories—in this mythic world—he had discovered the swordsmanship manual for the Art of Sword Control as a child in such a secret chamber. Though he never fully mastered it, it was a wondrous skill he could never forget.

With a splash, Bai Zongnan leaped into the passage and hurried through the hidden chamber, quickly reaching its end.

“Great Hero Mu, come down!” he called.

…There was no answer. Bai Zongnan cocked his ear, waiting for a moment.

Suddenly, a flash of cold light darted from the shadows on the wall!

…

Blood spurted as a short blade stabbed into Bai Zongnan’s back.

“Who’s there?!” Bai Zongnan’s expression changed drastically. He spun around to see a middle-aged man in blue robes staring at him coldly.

“And who might you be, ambushing me like this?” Bai Zongnan growled through clenched teeth.

“Ambush, you say?” The blue-robed man sneered, his arm trembling as he drove the blade several inches deeper into Bai Zongnan’s flesh, wringing a grunt of pain from him.

“Who are you?” Bai Zongnan demanded, suppressing his agony.

“Who am I?” The man’s lips twisted in a cruel grin as he struck out with his palm. “Didn’t anyone tell you that Erlong Mountain is forbidden ground?”

With a crash, Bai Zongnan countered with a punch, their blows colliding with such force that he was sent staggering back several steps.

“Who are you?” he demanded again.

The blue-robed man only sneered. “You don’t need to know who I am.”

With a sudden burst, he sprang forward like a cannonball, launching another fierce palm strike at Bai Zongnan’s head.

Bai Zongnan grunted, raising his arms to shield his head as he sidestepped, narrowly evading the blow.

The blue-robed man’s palm struck only empty air, but he did not pursue.

Bai Zongnan glanced up to see the man now wielding a long spear, looking down at him from above.

“So you do have some skill after all. But that’s the extent of it.” The man laughed coldly, his spear blossoming into a flurry of dazzling thrusts that sealed off every avenue of escape.

Bai Zongnan’s face paled as he retreated swiftly.

With a crash, the spear smashed into the ground, shattering the stone floor.

“Incredible!” Bai Zongnan exclaimed. Despite his injured internal strength, he had only just reached mastery, and his abilities, though formidable, now felt stifled, as if a heavy weight clogged his chest.

“Good. So you know what you’re up against. But today, you’re not leaving this place alive!” the man in blue declared, his figure suddenly blurring as he appeared right before Bai Zongnan.

With a heavy thud, he kicked out—