Martial King's Retired Life

Turns Out I’m Zhenchou

“It’s been days, so why is there still no news?”

The same sense of confusion stemming from different queries plagued the mind of a self-proclaimed sophisticatedly-intelligent individual day after day. Not only had Hua Yumeng seemingly been erased from existence, and there were no new clues on Hong Jiu’s situation. On his three trips outside to search for Hong Jiu at night, he returned disappointed.

None of the core members were left on Mount Night. When he asked the others on the mountain, Ming Feizhen could not believe Hong Jiu personally led them down the mountain. Though nobody knew where their destination was, they all saw him less an arm. The second and third time he went on a search, he went beyond Hangzhou – almost reaching the border of Jiaxing, which was further northeast of Mount Night. He expected their allies to take Hong Jiu to a doctor for his injuries, yet none of the doctors had heard a squeak about Hong Jiu. He, therefore, questioned if Hong Jiu had recovered and made his way to the capital in search for him, which, assuming was true, would mean that they passed by each other. This put him in a dilemma since he had to choose between returning to the capital first or continuing to wait for Hua Yumeng.

As for Hua Yumeng, Ming Feizhen expected the supposed philanderer who always sided with pitiable maidens to show himself if he had Song Yanluo put on a show three times in numerous places. Little did he expect for her to be on the cusp of dying from anger, yet Hua Yumeng still remain invisible. She had every asset one could ask for… unless he found out about how naggy she was, but… that was unlikely… right?

“Oi!”

Ming Feizhen instantly wore on an affable smile. “Welcome back. Thank you for your hard work.”

Slap!

“Wh-what is the meaning of this, Miss?”

The blood that stained Ming Feizhen’s face was naturally not his but likely the blood of some pig Song Yanluo killed last night. He did not mind, but he did feel it was a waste to not use the pig for a pot of pork soup.

Despite her face being red, Song Yanluo’s breathing was perfectly normal. After all, a bit of running around was nothing to her.

“What in the world was that script today, having me gasp blood onto someone?! I was this close to actually gasping blood! Everyone looked at me as if I’m some lunatic!”

Ming Feizhen wiped the drops of blood that landed on his face. “It is nothing worth mentioning. Did he finally reach out?”

“What do you think?” Upon realising Ming Feizhen tried to switch the topic, Song Yanluo thundered, “Nothing worth mentioning? You perform it, then!”

Acting in accordance with Ming Feizhen’s scripts, Song Yanluo had acted out the roles of a pitiable and weak maiden all the way to a dying woman, effectively sending her hard-built reputation in Hangzhou all the way to the depths of oblivion. Given her love for her dignity, it would not have been surprising if she put Hangzhou on her blacklist for the next decade in case somebody recognised her.

Patting Song Yanluo on the shoulder as if he was mentoring his student, Ming Feizhen said, “We’ll act out ‘Fahai Entraps Bai Suzhen Under the Leifeng Pagoda’. I believe he will sympathise with you.”

“You’re still not done?”

Ming Feizhen, touching his nose, mumbled, “If it was Miss Ling, she would definitely hav-”

“Ask her, then!” Song Yanluo pulled Ming Feizhen in by his collar, almost bringing their faces together. “You take me for some sort of fool?! I helped you out of the goodness of my heart so that you wouldn’t die for noth-… Learn modesty. You want me to play White Snake? I should be a lycodon rufozonatus that eats you.”

Ming Feizhen smiled. “Nobody ever said Fahai cannot entrap a lycodon rufozonatus.”

“Let me pry open your head to see what’s inside!”

It had been a few days since Song Yanluo abandoned any sense of respecting customs. Although she appeared mature and strong in the presence of the opposite sex, she had always practiced all the formalities taught to her. For some reason, though, she felt that respected formalities with Ming Feizhen would only result in her getting the short end of the stick – and even being foolish. Hence, while she could not assault him to death, getting in a few punches was better than nothing. During the transitional period, she discovered that Ming Feizhen was terrible at everything, but he had an incredible talent for being a punching bag. No matter how she hit him, he never suffered any injuries – a positive trait that was worth mentioning in her books.

As she knocked on Ming Feizhen’s head, a question popped into Song Yanluo’s mind.

“What’s your name?”

After pausing to think, Ming Feizhen answered, “Ming Zhen, nickname ‘Tan’, so you can call me Ming Zhentan.”

“What kind of weird name is that… Both have a ‘zhen’ character. That means the name given is.”

“Name given?”

Song Yanluo wagged her hands anxiously. “Nothing, nothing. Even if it was something, it’s none of your business.”

Ming Feizhen did not think too much of it since the important thing was that she stopped knocking on his skull, which gave him the chance to query, “Miss, did something happen today? You’re back considerably earlier than usual.”

While she did return earlier than usual, Song Yanluo did fulfil her promise to Ming Feizhen for four days, which was enough for him to be grateful for, so he did not ask the question with the intent of criticism.

“Ah, ah, yeah… not really, but… in short, it was really lively.”

“Oh… Miss did you know about the fiasco at Lionwood Courtyard?”

“Huh? There was?” It was quite obvious from her expression that Song Yanluo was forcing herself to feign ignorant. “No idea.”

“…” Ming Feizhen took out a small notebook, flipped through a few pages and then said, “It is said that there was a duel taking place there and that people rushed to get there early to secure a good viewing spot.”

“Uh, why are you also…”

“Li Shoulin, Lu Jianqiu… These names are so familiar. Hmm? Is that not the young lord of Deerhorn Manor?”

“You know him, too?”

“I guess? I have met his elders a few times before.”

Ming Feizhen was not close to Deerhorn Manor or Lu Jianqiu’s father; however, he had met Yong Guiqu, and he had nothing but positive things to say about the elder.

Ming Feizhen suddenly chuckled after he kept reading.

“What’s so funny?”

“The guy they’re out for. Look at his name: Zhenchou – Truly Ugly.”

“…” Song Yanluo nodded.

Ming Feizhen gazed at the sky after putting the notebook away. “It is getting late. I shall take my leave for now.”

“Eh? Wait, where are you off to?”

“Lionwood Courtyard. I want to see how ugly Zhenchou really is.”

“You don’t need to go that far. Just get a bucket of water…”

Ming Feizhen did not pay attention to whatever Song Yanluo muttered under her breath. Since Hua Yumeng did not bite on the bait, going out for some entertainment was one way to find compensation for his efforts. Plus, if there was going to be big crowd, then there was a chance that someone might have had a clue. Seeing as the duel had made it into the latest edition of Black and White Reflection, it was unmistakably a big event, so there was no loss in paying a visit.

“You came back early so that you could go watch it, did you not? I shall go ahead and save you a good seat.”

“Hey! Wait! Wait! Don’t walk so…” Song Yanluo mumbled to herself, “Ah, fine! Don’t cry to me later.”

The building located neighbouring Xizi Lake Pan was a sight to behold during the day, and it looked futuristic once the lights, music and dances started at night. Only the affluent were able to secure a seat at the place. Besides extravagant clothing and bodies to feast eyes on, they were able to hire reputable chefs from all corners of the land. Frankly, there were no more than five families in the capital who could have had a business or property of the same magnitude. Ming Feizhen did not dine there even when he ran Night Fortress as he could not afford a meal there, and he still could not afford a meal there.

Boss Chen, proprietor of Lionwood Courtyard, being a successful businessman, knew who were the real powerhouses of Hangzhou. That was the reason he sent their dishes to Mount Night without Ming Feizhen visiting them, except he did not know that Ming Feizhen’s subordinates wolfed the dishes down themselves instead of passing the offerings on to their master. When Ming Feizhen visited Lionwood Courtyard in the past, it was to dine for free. For instance, he suggested Cha Hao hold his wedding there so that it was “more convenient” for everyone.

Lionwood Courtyard had not changed much over the years; at least the waiter was the same waiter Ming Feizhen met before. If anything had changed, it was his mindset as he was not looking to become a recluse at the time. Three years ago, there was a distinct hierarchy between the main floor, the courtyard and lake. All that had changed were the decorations, the garden’s arrangement and lake’s display, yet it felt as if the place was an entirely different realm. This was pleasing for Ming Feizhen to see as it meant that he would be able to dine on even better delicacies for free. The only challenge left was finding an ideal viewing spot.

To accommodate the passion for martial arts in Hangzhou and profit off it, Boss Chen installed a ring at his business location.

Most of the seats were already taken by the time Ming Feizhen arrived, leaving only seats on the perimeter to choose from. If one was tall enough, they might have had a clear view over the countless heads gathered at the lakeside, but that was nothing compared to the VIP seats that the affluent had reserved. Inside, the seating area was divided up according to grades assigned to people, with the most influential getting the seats closer to the front. He could faintly overhear some affluential figures speaking from the rooms on the second floor and even people he was familiar with from the higher floors, where the view was the best. Thus, the decision of who to lech from weighed on his mind.

People were already starting to sell the seats they snatched up with their earlier arrival. At first, they were selling them inconspicuously, but as time went on, they raised their voices more and more as if they were hawkers on the streets. Prices started at thirty coins and had reached three silvers, yet bums were still flying off seats. Such a phenomenon was not surprising because it had been thirty years since somany martial artists had convened in Hangzhou.

The only option for Ming Feizhen, who only had thirty coins in his pocket, was to wait for nightfall to sneak in and find someone he was familiar with to leech off them. It was not as if he would feel a sense of guilt.

As he turned to leave, a few young men resembling waiters stopped him, prompting him to ask, “What are you doing?”

“This way please.”

“I don’t have money.”

“You do not need to pay.”

“You’re being so generous?” Ming Feizhen was going to touch his face to see if he had gold on it.

Who would refuse a free lunch? Hence, he followed the waiters passed all the different graded zones and even the rooms – even the best room that Boss Chen seldom rented out.

Where are they taking me? Do they really not recognise me?

A few steps later, Ming Feizhen found himself at the stage for the night, which was located in the large vacant space beside the lakeside.

“… Um…?”

“This is your spot, Mr. Zhenchou,” explained a waiter.

Ming Feizhen narrowed his eyes.

His spot was not among the spectators but among the competitors.

“Why me?!”

Glossary

Fahai Entraps Bai Suzhen Under the Leifeng Pagoda – a section out of “Legend of the White Snake”, one of China’s “four great folktales”.

Ming Zhentan – Translates to Detective Ming, something Paimon would probably come up with.