Chapter 138: Interests

"Could Senior Brother actually still be alive, and moreover entangled with the wicked sorceress of the Blue Lotus Demonic Cult?" Such a thought seemed to echo endlessly within her mind. It was indeed true that for someone like her who had grown up entirely on Mount Qilian, certain notions were deeply rooted. Ideas such as the Blue Lotus Cult being a demonic sect were exceedingly difficult to shake off. At present, she felt a mixture of joy and bewilderment. Joy came from knowing that Hantan Yi was still alive, while bewilderment arose from the realization that if what the tea-house waiter said was true, how was she to face such a situation?

"Esteemed guest? Esteemed guest?" Engaging in eloquent chatter was by no means a difficult task for someone like the tea-house waiter. Having seen countless travelers coming from the south and going to the north, he naturally possessed broad worldly experience. Coupled with his naturally glib tongue, he was completely in his element. Yet, right at the height of his enthusiasm, he noticed that the other party had assumed a dazed expression, completely failing to listen to a single word he had been saying. Feeling somewhat awkward, he paused mid-sentence, suddenly waved his hand right before Qiu Wan'er's eyes, and called out somewhat reluctantly. Only then did Qiu Wan'er snap back to her senses, her gaze fixing upon the man before her with a look of incomprehension, as if she had no idea what had just transpired. Then, she heard his voice ring out once more: "Esteemed guest, is everything alright?"

Even with the thickest of wits, Qiu Wan'er would have reacted by now. A trace of embarrassment surfaced on her face, and she offered a faint smile—perhaps the best way to handle the situation—while shaking her head slightly. "Nothing is the matter, nothing at all. I was simply shocked by what you just said. Although I have just arrived from the west and am not very familiar with the current state of the Central Plains martial arts world, I have nonetheless heard of Master Shen of the Bright Moon Manor. He is a paramount figure indeed. How could he have so easily fallen victim to such a fate? Could this matter perhaps be a bit unreliable? Who could possibly possess such formidable capability?"

"This matter is absolute truth, completely without falsehood! It has recently spread like wildfire throughout the rivers and lakes, and I hear the situation was even witnessed firsthand by Shen Chengbi himself!" Upon hearing her doubt, the tea-house waiter's expression shifted entirely, as if he sought to emphasize his words through sheer force. Yet, when he uttered the name Shen Chengbi, there was a noticeable pause; he even lowered his voice and cast furtive glances all around. "The Bright Moon Manor has been thrown into massive turmoil recently. That Pavilion Master of Zhaoyang is rumored to actually be Dongfang Mingyue, the former Master of Cold Mountain Valley—someone who supposedly died three years ago is not only alive, but was actually a mole planted by the Blue Lotus Cult within the Bright Moon Manor! Furthermore, Shen Chengbi is far too young; the other four pavilion masters refuse to submit to him at all, and each is contending for the position of manor master. This turn of events has ultimately played right into the hands of Mount Qilian!"

"Played right into the hands of Mount Qilian?" Qiu Wan'er was utterly confused. When she left the Central Plains years ago, she had only occasionally heard the name Shen Chengbi. That such a man possessed ability and managed to rise to the position of one of the six pavilion masters of Bright Moon Manor was nothing extraordinary. Following Shen Wansan's sudden death, in terms of sheer strength, Shen Chengbi was未必 the strongest among the six pavilions, and in terms of seniority, he was at the very bottom. Although Shen Wansan had intended to groom him, firstly, his tenure was far too short, and secondly, while the pavilion masters appeared submissive on the surface, they had secretly left plenty of backup plans for themselves. Thus, when Shen Wansan suddenly passed away without leaving behind any tokens of authority—at best merely passing on a verbal message—how much persuasiveness could Shen Chengbi's single word possibly carry? That the Bright Moon Manor would descend into utter chaos was entirely to be expected. But what did all of this have to do with Mount Qilian? Consequently, the moment the waiter spoke those words, Qiu Wan'er's sense of incomprehension deepened all the more.

This played right into the waiter's intentions. Naturally, anyone who tells a story hopes that their listeners will feel curious about their words. At this moment, a smug smile was unmistakably evident on his face. He even casually pulled up a stool to sit down and poured himself a cup of tea. Talking so much had naturally made him thirsty, yet just as he picked up the cup—perhaps because the tea was too hot, or perhaps feeling dissatisfied that he hadn't finished his tale—he slammed the cup back down onto the table.

"It seems the esteemed guest truly has come from the Western Regions and understands nothing of the inner workings here. Among the four major sects, the Eastern Glory Sect is comparatively weak, and after the martial arts gathering three and a half years ago where Shao Changchun pulled such stunts, its reputation had long since plummeted to the ground. Dongfang Mingyue was assassinated three years ago, followed a few months ago by this spectacle at the Bright Moon Manor. Does anyone still consider Cold Mountain Valley one of the four major sects? With things coming to this, won't the pugilistic world be left with only the Bright Moon Manor and Mount Qilian?"

Hearing this, Qiu Wan'er naturally understood a thing or two. Originally, there had only been a single formidable rival. With its leader gone and its subordinates lacking unity, caught in mutual contention and strife, even if the foundations of Bright Moon Manor ran deep, they would still be mostly exhausted. It would no longer possess the capability to contend with Mount Qilian for leadership. Moreover, given Mount Qilian's status in the martial arts world and Dao Tianfeng's position as the martial alliance leader, these factors would undoubtedly add considerable weight to the scales. Whichever party could secure the support of Mount Qilian would unquestionably gain the upper hand. Yet such support was not something one could obtain merely by asking; it required paying a heavy price. Viewed in this light, Mount Qilian truly stood to reap the greatest benefit of all. At this thought, her gaze naturally came to rest upon the waiter's face.

"Who would have thought that a mere tea vendor would possess such insight, perceiving the grudges and grievances of the martial world with such clarity? Very well, being able to hear such a fascinating tale today can be considered broadening my horizons. Consider this tea money doubled, and it will be well worth it. Take it!"

Accompanied by these words, Qiu Wan'er's hand did not pause. With a swift motion, she placed three taels of scattered silver fragments onto the table. Her movement was extremely fast—so fast that the tea-house waiter could hardly register it. But that was of little consequence; a businessman ultimately lived for money. A pot of his tea was worth merely a few copper coins. Although this silver was in small fragments, it multiplied his usual earnings manifold. As his eyes locked onto it, they gleamed with light. Before his hand could even firmly grasp the coins, his smile reached its absolute limit, blossoming with a sense of pure delight. He offered profuse words of gratitude, entirely unconcerned that the young traveler had already stood up and appeared ready to depart.

Yet Qiu Wan'er did not manage to leave after all. Just as her foot crossed the threshold of the tea shed, she noticed several figures rapidly approaching down the end of the road. At first, they were somewhat indistinct, but gradually they came into clearer focus. They were unmistakably the very same tea patrons who had departed earlier—or rather, to be precise, they were undoubtedly scouts. Moreover, judging by their direction of movement, they were heading straight toward the tea shed. There were only two people here, and these men surely would not trouble a humble tea-serving boy. Qiu Wan'er could readily discern that these people were coming for her. That was just as well; she still harbored various unsolved doubts in her heart, and perhaps she could obtain the answers from these individuals. Turning around abruptly, she spoke in a cautionary tone, "Little brother, you had best leave quickly. Whatever belongs here can easily be packed up tomorrow!"

This sudden remark abruptly dragged the tea-house waiter out of his blissful reverie. At first, he naturally failed to grasp the reason behind it, but as his gaze followed the young maiden's line of sight, he instantly understood the implication of her words. He had no desire whatsoever to become entangled in the bloody feuds of the martial world. Not only did he lack the capability, but should anything truly go wrong, local officials were beyond his control, and losing his life so pointlessly would hardly be worthwhile. Besides, the silver he had earned today was more than enough to cover earnings he might not see for days. Nodding gently without hesitation, he tossed the teapot and cups onto the stove counter and bolted out through the back door with swift, uninterrupted momentum.

Qiu Wan'er remained standing right where she was, her gaze fixed upon the approaching figures. There was not the slightest trace of fear upon her face. As to what level her martial arts had reached by now, she herself could not precisely say, but she was undoubtedly far more powerful than she had been three or four years ago. Even in the past, she would hardly have taken such people seriously, let alone today. Thus, she felt entirely self-assured. As the men drew closer, a peculiar thought suddenly arose within the young maiden. She slowly walked a few paces back into the tea shed, casually retrieved a pair of teacups and the teapot from the counter, and resumed her seat at the table. With a swift lift and pour, the hot water inside the teapot descended like a suspended thread, streaming directly into the teacups.

She simply waited like this. Although the teacup was not large, the stream of water was exceedingly fine, such that even if she waited much longer, it would still not fill the cup. In any case, it did not take long at all; in the blink of a twinkling, the figures arrived right before Qiu Wan'er. Glancing sideways, she easily recognized them as familiar faces. There were not many—just four men. As they came to a halt, they stood in a neat row, each of them silently staring at Qiu Wan'er without any immediate intention of speaking. Qiu Wan'er naturally had no desire to greet them either, continuing with her quiet task. In an instant, the surrounding air grew heavy with a dense, oppressive stillness.