Jingzhou lay in the northwestern reaches of the Yue Kingdom. Being a remote and isolated territory, it boasted few large cities, though small towns and villages were a common sight. The land was dominated by low hills and modest ridges, and vast stretches of desolate wilderness stretched out with no sign of human habitation.
Because of this, bandits and petty thieves in Jingzhou far outnumbered those in any other prefecture, making it the most lawless region for the jianghu's wandering martial figures. No single powerful force had ever risen to bring order to the entire territory.
Yet this very lawlessness had forged a fiercely resilient local populace. Escort agencies and horse caravans sprang up in endless succession, standing in stark contrast to the ever-growing ranks of bandits.
On this particular day, along a dirt road in the open wilderness, a scene that played out all too often across Jingzhou was unfolding once more.
Well over a hundred brawny men in coarse cloth garments, each with a black kerchief tied around his head, brandished a motley assortment of weapons as they surrounded more than thirty men dressed in green. Clustered around these green-clad figures, several high-canopied horse carriages were tightly encircled for protection. The scene before them was none other than a fierce clash between bandits and an escort convoy.
Behind the bandits stood three men in black, their faces strikingly similar to one another. They watched the melee with cold expressions, occasional flashes of ruthlessness crossing their features.
Near the carriages, a few young, sturdy men dressed in servant's attire each gripped a wooden staff and stood guard, their faces taut with barely concealed tension.
In the three or four carriages at the rear sat several women and children dressed in fine, luxurious clothing. In the foremost and largest carriage, a middle-aged Confucian scholar sat with an air of perfect composure, his expression betraying not the slightest alarm.
The man wore three long locks of beard, dark and lustrous. Though he appeared to possess no martial strength whatsoever, there was an unmistakable bearing about him — the air of one long accustomed to authority — that commanded a certain wariness.
Across from the scholar sat a hulking, bearded man in a blue brocade robe, his broad back resting against the carriage wall in a cross-legged position.
His hands were thick and powerful, and his eyes gleamed with a sharp, penetrating light — he was clearly no ordinary fighter, but a rare top-tier expert of the jianghu.
It was obvious that these two men were of no common standing. Both wore expressions of calm self-assurance. Despite the carriage's considerable size, only these two occupied it — no third passenger shared their space.
Neither spoke a word at the moment, but through the half-open carriage window, they could observe the scene outside with perfect clarity. The shouts of combat and anguished screams periodically drifted into the cabin.
The black-kerchiefed bandits held the advantage in sheer numbers, while the escort's guards and porters in their green combat garments were superior in individual skill. For the time being, the two sides remained locked in a stalemate, neither able to gain a decisive edge.
Seeing this, the scholar allowed himself a faint smile and suddenly turned to the bearded man across from him.
"Brother Li, it seems you won't need to trouble yourself after all. The Tianwu Escort Agency should have no trouble weathering this!"
"Heh heh! As long as those three leaders of the Black Kerchief Bandits don't step in, the Tianwu Escort Agency can certainly handle these small fry. But if the three of them make their move, these guards and porters won't be able to hold the line. After all, the three chieftains of the Black Kerchief Bandits are some of the most ruthless figures on Jingzhou's roads. Word has it they are blood brothers, and they're exceptionally skilled in coordinated combat. An ordinary expert would stand no chance against their combined force." As he spoke, a visible glint of excitement surfaced on the big man's face. He slightly curled one of his thick fingers, producing a crisp crackling sound — a clear sign that his mastery of external martial arts had reached its absolute pinnacle.
"Brother Li! Whenever the subject of a fight comes up, you get this unbearable itch. You're exactly like old Uncle Li was back in the day." The scholar watched the big man's reaction with a helpless chuckle, looking as though he had long since given up trying to rein him in.
"Naturally, Brother Han. The Li family has always been one that passes down the martial tradition. When we encounter a worthy opponent, the urge to test ourselves is only natural. It's no different from how the Han family, with its generations of scholarly heritage, inevitably produces one or two members who enter court and take up official posts. What I do find puzzling, though, is how our two families — so utterly different in every respect — ever became fast friends in the first place. And not only that, but the friendship has endured for generation after generation, remaining just as warm as ever!" The big man folded his arms and shook his head, a look of genuine bewilderment on his face.
"Heh heh! Some time ago, I happened to come across a few old journals, and I did learn a thing or two about events from those early days. If you're curious, Brother Li, I could share a bit of what I read — though I can't say for certain how much of it is actually true." The scholar smiled lightly.
"Oh? Truly? Unfortunately, the Li family has never had the habit of recording our ancestors' affairs. Apart from a few exquisite martial techniques they left behind, there's absolutely nothing about how our Han and Li families first came to know each other." The big man's eyes lit up with interest, clearly intrigued.
"Hold on — those three are making their move after all. Wait a moment, Brother Han. I'll dispatch them and come back, then you can tell me the whole story." The big man's gaze swept toward the outside, and his expression shifted slightly.
Then, with a sharp whoosh, he shot out of the carriage like a bolt from a crossbow.
Moments later, his wild laughter rang out from beyond the carriage, followed by an eruption of fighting and screams.
The scholar sighed softly and gave a slight shake of his head, letting the curtain fall back into place. He made no effort to look outside again. He seemed to have absolute confidence in the big man.
After roughly the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the sounds outside gradually died down.
The carriage curtain stirred, and the big man ducked back inside, his appearance somewhat dusty from battle. His shoulder bore a faint stain of red — he had apparently sustained a minor wound. Yet he let out a hearty laugh and said to the scholar: