Forgotten Tale of Jianghu

Chang Hai City…

The moment Xin Long entered the city, his first priority was simple—find a place to eat and a temporary inn to rest.

The lively city, awakened by the crimson morning light, seemed to welcome him with open arms. As he rode slowly through the streets, he observed the bustling shops—some already open, others just beginning to set up, and a few still shuttered. The flow of pedestrians passed by him, but his eyes remained fixed on the signs, scanning for a suitable place.

Then, he caught sight of a particular signboard, just as the sound of laughter and lively conversation drifted from within. Without hesitation, he pulled the reins, bringing his horse to a halt. With a swift motion, he dismounted and led his horse toward the establishment.

The sign read: "Cherry Blossom Inn," a two-story building that served both as an eatery and a lodging house.

As he approached the entrance, a young attendant suddenly rushed out from inside. The lad respectfully greeted him before speaking in a polite, well-practiced manner.

"Honored guest, you're welcome to dine inside. If you need a place to stay, we also have rooms available."

His words and mannerisms reflected the well-trained hospitality of a seasoned attendant.

Xin Long gave a small nod, handing over the reins of his horse before stepping inside.

The interior of the establishment was nothing extraordinary—built like a typical inn, the ground floor housed the dining area, while the upper floor was reserved for travelers seeking lodging.

Inside, he noted five round tables occupied by martial artists, while the remaining three were filled with ordinary townsfolk.

Xin Long casually chose the empty table at the very center of the martial artists' section, ignoring the fleeting glances that drifted his way.

As he settled into his seat, he quietly listened to the conversations among the five men seated nearby. At that moment, from the stable area outside, the attendant who had taken his horse came rushing in after him—seemingly following him in haste.

"What would you like to order, sir?"

The young attendant greeted him with a bright smile, asking in an eager tone.

Xin Long met his gaze with a cold, unreadable stare before replying in a crisp, no-nonsense manner.

"One bowl of noodles, three of your best dishes, and a room for the night."

His cold gaze wasn't without reason. The attendant's cheerful smile had triggered something within him—perhaps an irrational thought, but a thought nonetheless. That kind of smile should only belong to those who have truly won.

Yet, despite Xin Long's abrupt and curt response, the young attendant showed no sign of being flustered. He simply gave a polite nod and walked off towards the kitchen, his smile still intact.

"Have you heard about the new 'Forest of Secrets' that was recently established in Chang'an City, brothers?"

Just as Xin Long was watching the attendant walk away, his sharp ears caught a conversation from the table to his right. A martial artist was speaking to another, clearly asking a question.

Based on their exchange, Xin Long deduced that they weren't long-time comrades, but rather traveling warriors who had met along the way and decided to share a meal.

Despite hearing the conversation clearly, Xin Long didn't turn his head towards them. He kept his gaze fixed on the empty table in front of him, maintaining the illusion that he had no interest in their words.

His refusal to turn was deliberate—an unspoken signal that he wasn't paying attention, though his sharp instincts were fully engaged.

Earlier, when he first entered, he had already assessed the occupants of the tables. The group to his right consisted of two men in their late thirties and a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties. He also knew exactly how many people occupied the other tables.

Such awareness wasn't mere coincidence—it was habit. A survival instinct sharpened by years of experience.

"Walls have ears."

His surroundings were a constant source of information, and he knew better than to ignore them. Wherever he went, Xin Long always listened, always observed, always learned.

To him, every piece of overheard information was a valuable asset. What he saw and heard, no matter how trivial, could one day serve a purpose. His belief stemmed from the teachings of his mother, whose wise words had shaped his way of thinking. Furthermore, his heightened awareness was not just for gathering knowledge—it was also a means of survival, allowing him to anticipate and defend against potential dangers.

Just as these thoughts crossed his mind…

"Hmm… I've been considering going there myself... I don't know where they were before, but ever since they emerged in Chang'an City, they've been openly challenging solo martial artists. It feels a bit too bold if you ask me. That's why I thought of testing myself against them."

"Hmm… That's right, brother… The challenge letter from the three Lu brothers, including Lu Sanhong, is quite bold… Apparently, they only accept one challenger per week… And if you lose to them, you have to write down one of your martial arts techniques for them… They're pretty arrogant, aren't they? I heard they're not even thirty years old yet…"

The casual conversation from the other table found its way into his ears. Chang'an City… Forest of Secrets… Lu Sanhong… Lu's brothers. He silently committed the details to memory.

Then, another voice chimed in—a woman's voice from the same table.

"Brother Shen is right. Lu Sanhong, the eldest, hasn't even reached thirty yet. Just think about the other two… But still, I heard from travelers along the way that the last three martial artists who went to compete at the Forest of Secrets all returned in defeat."

"Yes, I heard that too… Since you and your master traveled near Chang'an City and even reached Kaifeng City, you must know more about it... Once I finish my training under my master, I plan to challenge them myself… The prize for winning is simply too valuable to ignore..."

The voice belonged to the one called Brother Shen, who seemed to be speaking to a junior martial sibling.

"Just how valuable could it be for them to risk so much just to compete?"

Xin Long pondered intensely, curiosity flaring in his mind. Just then, one of the martial artists conversing with Brother Shen provided an answer that satisfied his growing curiosity. Since the other tables were merely engaged in casual chatter, his attention remained fixated on the conversation from the right-hand table. Though his eyes constantly surveyed the surroundings from his seated position, his gaze never once directly shifted toward them.

"It's true… Not only are they offering the legendary 'Nightfall Sword'—sharp enough to cut through steel—but they're also willing to part with any one martial technique from their arsenal... Haha… there's no way I'm passing up this opportunity… Even if I don't get the technique, just obtaining the Nightfall Sword would be worth it… After all, what's more fitting than a great weapon in the hands of a warrior?"

"Exactly… Well then, brothers, let's eat up. After this, my sister and I need to continue our journey since our master assigned us a task and we can't stay too long..."

With that final remark from Brother Shen, no more useful information came from their table.

Just then, the waiter returned to Xin Long's side, placing a steaming bowl of noodles along with three accompanying dishes before him. While serving, the waiter informed him in a respectful tone:

"Your room is ready, sir… Once you've finished your meal, just let me know, and I'll guide you there."

Xin Long nodded slightly in response, prompting the waiter to step away politely after placing the food.

The rich aroma of the dishes made his stomach growl with greater hunger. Picking up a pair of chopsticks, he began to stir his noodles. Just as he was about to take his first bite, his sharp eyes caught sight of four martial artists from the opposite table standing up and walking toward him.

Since he had been closely observing them, Xin Long had already gotten a good look at the four approaching men—except for one who had his back turned earlier. All of them were well past their forties, and their attire did not resemble that of the typical white-clad martial artists.

However, he was aware that appearances could be deceiving. External appearances never truly revealed the heart within. After all, wasn't he himself proof of that? On the surface, he looked refined, yet in reality, he was an assassin.

But he was not a vile man.

Everything he had done, everything he had carried out for Sangguan Yun'er, had been what he deemed necessary and justified. However, the mind is ever-changing—just as he could abandon his life as a mercenary, he might just as easily descend into the path of a villain.

As Xin Long analyzed the four men, they reached his table and formed a loose circle around him. He immediately noticed how they positioned themselves—it wasn't a casual stance but one that subtly boxed him in. Their faces bore expressions of hostility, their eyes filled with barely restrained anger, misinterpreting his cold, piercing gaze.

Danger.

He could feel it in the air.

Yet, instead of unease, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. If these men intended to test him, they had unknowingly walked right into the perfect scenario. After all, he had been looking for a chance to test his new technique, the Fire Palm, and now—his "practice dummies" had come right to him.

Yes.

To Xin Long, all martial artists were prey for him.

End – 26