Chapter 2501: Burning the Tower (14)
"Li Jian?" Sun Gang scoffed. "He's no Li Jian—he's a Kun spy. I saw him myself, leading Kun soldiers through the streets of Guangzhou making arrests."
Xu Tong's expression flickered. He had been careful during his operations in Guangzhou, rarely showing himself. To be spotted by this man of all people—
Li Baiqing cut in before the silence could stretch too long. "And what proof do you have? Empty accusations? If you're looking to start a fight, just say so plainly." His voice rose for the crowd's benefit. "You, Sun Gang, hide behind Pockmarked Chen of the One Universe Primordial Chaos Dao in the Seven Upper Villages. Day after day, you lord over us in the Six Lower Villages—stealing our irrigation water, shifting tax burdens onto our backs. And now you stir up trouble at the banquet itself. Do you really think the thousand able-bodied men of our Six Lower Villages are so easily cowed?"
Xu Tong immediately grasped Li Baiqing's intent: muddy the waters. Whether Sun Gang had truly recognized him no longer mattered—the accusation couldn't be talked away. Explanations would only make him look guilty. Better to seize the initiative and drag others into the fray.
"This humble one was originally with the Green Dragon Society in Jiangnan," Xu Tong declared loudly. "A lawsuit gone wrong forced me to flee from powerful enemies, and I sought shelter in this land. I know nothing of your local feuds. I ask Hero Sun not to implicate me in matters I have no part in. If you truly hold some grudge against the Li family of Old Li Village, then bring it out openly—bright swords and sharp spears. I'll face you to the end. But spare me these underhanded tactics." He shot Li Baiqing a quick look.
Li Baiqing picked up the thread without missing a beat. "Sun Gang, you're biting at shadows! Who put you up to this? Leader Liao only just rebelled against the society—not even enough time to finish a meal has passed—and already you're pointing fingers at random. Where are all these spies supposedly coming from? Or perhaps you mean to say everyone seated here is a traitor?" He swept his arm across the gathered crowd. "What, do you want to swallow everything whole and leave nothing for the rest of us?"
These words struck home. Yang Tiezhou of the Eight Immortals Society and Ge Yaoxian of the Yellow Tassel Society both went pale, glancing nervously around them. Whispers rippled through the crowd—particularly among those who weren't direct members of the Daoist Spirit Society.
Sun Gang's face darkened with fury. "Li Baiqing, you gutless old man! You never dare fight the Kun head-on—always cowering in the back—and you have the gall to shout accusations at me?"
Li Baiqing gave a cold snort. "Naturally I can't compare to the great Hero Sun Gang. On that day you led troops against the Kun, you fled before a man could finish taking a shit."
"I fought them openly!" Sun Gang roared. "With swords and spears! I still carry scars from their bayonets!"
Li Baiqing nodded sagely. "Indeed you do. Only the scar isn't on your chest—it's on your backside. One can only assume Brother Sun's Iron Buttocks Kung Fu has reached perfection. You must face your enemies rear-first, presenting your bare cheeks to the blade."
Sun Gang's face went crimson with rage. He spat curses invoking ancestors and descendants alike, his original purpose forgotten entirely. He lunged forward, ready to tear into Li Baiqing with his bare hands.
The argument drew a crowd, men clustering around their favored champions, shoving and shouting over one another. Into this chaos strode Xue Tu with his retinue, parting the crowd like a blade through water. At the sight of him, the noise subsided and heads bowed in deference.
Xue Tu demanded an explanation. As he listened, his brow furrowed deeper. He glanced at Pockmarked Chen, who was silently cursing Sun Gang for his meddling.
"Are you certain?" Pockmarked Chen asked.
Now that the matter had escalated, Sun Gang found himself without clear evidence or leads. He had been so sure only moments ago, but under scrutiny, doubt crept in. He cursed his own recklessness—in his eagerness to claim a great merit, he had painted himself into a corner.
"He looks extremely like him," Sun Gang muttered.
"Does he look extremely like him," Pockmarked Chen pressed, "or is it him?"
Sun Gang wet his lips. "Extremely like."
Xue Tu felt his irritation mounting. If this truly was a spy, he couldn't simply let the man walk free. But if this confrontation sparked a second rebellion, every member who wasn't part of the Daoist Spirit Society's inner circle would feel threatened. The unity he had just managed to forge would shatter in an instant. He stood paralyzed by indecision.
While he wavered, Wooden Stone Daoist approached with an unhurried gait. "I heard Brother Li say you were previously with the Green Dragon Society in Jiangnan?"
As he spoke, he coiled his left hand over his right, thumbs pressed together, forming the Coiling Dragon Button—the opening gesture for verifying one's credentials in the Green Dragon Society.
"Who comes?" he asked.
Xu Tong responded immediately. He crossed his hands before his right chest in the Probing Dragon Hand, right palm facing forward, left palm facing back, the upper edge of his left palm pressing against the third knuckle of his right middle finger. The higher the knuckle, the higher one's claimed status—one knuckle meant superiority, two meant equality, three meant humility, acknowledging oneself as a junior member.
"Mountain connects to mountain, ridge connects to ridge," Xu Tong intoned. "A dragon's shadow hides in a pool of cold water. This younger brother is untalented—a Dragon-steed Armored Warrior under the Green Dragon seat."
Wooden Stone Daoist nodded. "Do you have martial arts?"
"I am proficient in all eighteen forms. A strong man wins a hundred battles through martial skill; swords and spears and halberds show their power. Civil virtue and martial brilliance, strategy in abundance—to support the Sage Lord upon the Dragon Throne."
"And do you have loyalty and righteousness?"
"A loyal liver and righteous gall, blood that runs forever red. Ten thousand li I've traveled, piercing the Jade Pass; the nine heavens' constellations descend to the mortal realm. The loyal and good can subdue an army of thousands; the treacherous and sycophantic shall never keep their lives."
"What business brings you here, Brother?"
"This younger brother was reckless and ran afoul of dangerous men. I ask my senior brothers to extend their protection, shelter me beneath your wings. Plant a peach and plum tree to gather heroes from across the four seas. I have only just arrived—my etiquette incomplete, my robes improper, my path unclear. I do not yet know everyone's names and faces. I beg the elders' magnanimity and forgiveness." He dropped to one knee, drew his identity cards from his robe—called gold and silver by tradition, though in truth they were ordinary paper—and presented them with both hands.
Wooden Stone Daoist accepted the cards and studied them carefully. His expression betrayed nothing.
"Peach blossoms in the full garden open on the same tree," he recited. "A string of river water gathers worthy talents. Which road do you walk, Brother?"
"The dry road is walkable. The water road is also walkable."
"How is the dry road? How is the water road?"
"Vast dust and sand, no mountains seen. Seething water mist, no rivers seen."
"The Green Dragon swings its tail without saying its surname; the Green Dragon strikes its back without speaking its name. What is your honorable surname and given name? How many high mountains have you climbed? How many gates bear your gold medal? Where does a bright road lead?"
"Indebted to the society's cultivation, my place is the East Pavilion of the Green Dragon Society. This younger brother is Li Jian, bearing two bronze medals at the mountain gate. My master's line descends from Tong Jiong of the Suppressing River Tide. When traveling abroad, a fallen phoenix rests on a parasol tree; a swimming dragon coils upon a sea-spanning beam. I trust my brothers of all houses will look after me."
Wooden Stone Daoist examined the card once more, then fixed Xu Tong with a piercing stare. Xu Tong met his gaze without flinching.
They regarded each other for a long moment. Then Wooden Stone Daoist burst into laughter.
"The card is genuine, and the cant is correct. He is indeed a disciple of the society." He turned to address the crowd. "This poor Daoist spent many years in Jiangnan and knew men of the Green Dragon Society well—that's how I recognize these phrases. No further questions are needed. Brothers, disperse."
A collective breath of relief swept through the gathering. As people began drifting back to their seats, Xu Tong rose slowly from his kneel.
"Is Brother Sun leaving just like that?"
Sun Gang had already turned away. At the call, he stopped and twisted back, jaw set. "What do you want?"
"My own face means nothing," Xu Tong said. "This humble person can endure having his innocence stained. But your words just now insulted my cousin-uncle and my ancestors. Though I am an unfilial wretch, I cannot allow my elders and forebears to be publicly humiliated."
Sun Gang's lip curled. "And what do you intend to do about it?"
"Two choices, Brother Sun. First—pour a bowl of wine and apologize to my cousin-uncle. Then toast me a bowl as apology to my ancestors. Second—wild grass won't lie flat unless you trim it; the dock won't be level unless you tread it down. Those who run the jianghu settle matters with their fists."
He made a sweeping bow to the crowd. "This is a private grudge, separate from gang affairs. Let us sign a life-and-death contract and fight it out. If Brother Sun is afraid, he need only say five words: 'I, Sun Gang, submit.' I'll consider that an apology and trouble him no further."
Sun Gang had a reckless temper, quick to ignite. Such goading was more than he could swallow. He hurled a wine bowl at Xu Tong's head and bellowed, "Apologize to your ancestors? Let's see whose fists speak louder!"
Xu Tong tilted his head. The bowl sailed past and shattered on the ground with a sharp crash.
The crowd erupted with excitement. Xue Tu moved to intervene, but duels to settle private grudges were an established tradition, and the jeering mob made hesitation costly. Before he could act, Ge Yaoxian of the Yellow Tassel Society stepped into the clearing. Still bitter about his society's absorption earlier that day, he seized the chance to fan the flames and vent his frustration.
"Since that is how it stands, I will serve as witness," he declared. "Bring paper and brush. Let the two brothers establish a contract."
A subordinate scurried forward with ink and writing materials. Ge Yaoxian drafted two copies of the life-and-death contract. Both men pressed their handprints to the paper.
Tables and chairs were cleared away, leaving an open space. The two fighters took their positions on opposite sides. Ge Yaoxian leaned close to Xu Tong and asked in a low voice, "Which school does Brother practice?"
Xu Tong hesitated. His training came from the Senate's comprehensive combat curriculum—boxing fundamentals, Muay Thai knees and elbows, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, wrestling throws, Karate kicks. There was no sect to name. Scrambling for an answer, he remembered a classified special issue from an Australian publication.
"I am originally from Chongming," he said with a straight face. "What I learned is the Fist of the North Star. My given name is Jian, and I am second in my family. People call me Kenshiro. Announce it as such."
Ge Yaoxian nodded and proclaimed to the crowd: "Today, Kenshiro of the Fist of the North Star and Sun Gang of the Wen Family Seventy-Two Rows of Fists shall compete in martial arts to resolve their enmity! Life and death rest with Heaven; each man bears his own fate!"
A faint smile flickered at the corner of Xu Tong's mouth. This fight would inevitably drive a wedge between the two factions in the society. Win or lose, he had already won.
He rolled his neck slowly, then twisted his wrists. His vertebrae and joints popped softly. Today, everyone would remember his fists.
Yun Ting watched from the shadows beneath the eaves, his figure concealed as he observed the scene below.
Wooden Stone Daoist drifted to his side and murmured, "What do you think?"
"Sun Gang cannot win," Yun Ting said flatly.
"Oh?" Wooden Stone Daoist raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"
Yun Ting paused, then deflected rather than answer. "What is the Daoist's assessment?"
Wooden Stone Daoist considered the question. "His credentials are genuine, and he knows the society's secret language. He should be one of us. Those knotted muscles mark him as a martial artist, and he carries himself like a man who has run the jianghu." He paused. "But with outsiders... one can never fully discern the truth of their origins."
(End of Chapter)