[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-cursed-blade-s-walk":3,"chapter-the-cursed-blade-s-walk-the-cursed-blade-s-walk-chapter-45":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Cursed Blade's Walk",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2262350,4415,"Chapter 45: Jianghu","the-cursed-blade-s-walk-chapter-45",45,"\u003Cp>Ding li ge ding! Li ge li dang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah! The Jianghu stirs with Fengyun , the Three Teachings and Nine Streams take the stage. Warriors clash with fists and feet, Confucians debate ethics and norms, sorcerers display their magic, each showcasing their skills without yielding…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ding li ge ding! Li ge li dang!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Look here—red fist masters strike swift, Xingyi is brutal, Bagua is dark; the Three Teachings and Nine Streams gather like dragons and snakes. The Jianghu is perilous—beware! The clapper’s rhythm echoes far and wide, singing of the world’s fine scenery…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the archway street corner, voices surged like a tide, the fast-book artist’s yuanyang clappers flying in motion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dragons, snakes, rats, ants—each has its own path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A life-or-death contest draws in the fates of both combatants and stirs hidden interests behind the scenes, yet to common folk and Jianghu figures, it is a grand spectacle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The people of Shenzhou have always loved a spectacle, since ancient times.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even a beheading in the vegetable market draws crowds, and food vendors scramble everywhere—how much more so a martial contest?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It’s more lively than temple fair operas!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ordinary folk were fine, but hearing the contest began at Shen Hour, they came early after lunch to secure spots, lest they be crushed out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But for ordinary Jianghu practitioners, it was a good opportunity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the saying goes, “Say ‘hello’ and you’re bound to be Jianghu.” Those stirring up trouble are few; most are merely toiling for scraps of silver.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before dawn, a group arrived to “paint the pot.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What is “painting the pot”? It’s when Jianghu performers lay out white sand on the ground to draw a circle—first to claim space, second to create a boundary, forcing spectators back and giving room to perform.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this group clearly wasn’t here to perform.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They were from the Changchun Society of Xianyang.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every temple fair or grand celebration inevitably draws Jianghu performers and vendors, but there are rules—if not settled in advance, fights break out over space.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Changchun Society is the organization specifically tasked with this.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Usually composed of respected Jianghu performers, they plan space allocations ahead and maintain order at the scene.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Naturally, they also pay tribute to local gangs and skim off profits from small vendors and ground performers, pocketing the difference.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just after noon, the crossroads was packed tight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Over here, fast-clapper performers played their “short tools”; over there, erhu players—called “long tools”—played; and there were Fengyang flower-drum troupes with families in tow…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, food vendors were everywhere, and the Pi Men had also come to join the commotion.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those who set up stalls and polished fake rhino horn with iron files were called “Bai Siping.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bare-chested men whipping themselves with iron rods to sell bruise ointment were called “Fang Bianhan.” Even harsher: those slicing their arms with small knives to sell wound medicine were called “Qingzi Tu…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the distance, a group of cart and carriage porters stood by.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Unlike marginal figures like Du Daya of Li Family Fort, these porters were all strong and muscular, their calves thick-boned and corded with sinew, even in freezing weather, their pant legs rolled up—every one a master of Chuojiao…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In short, this contest stirred ripples across Xianyang’s once-quiet Jianghu.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…………\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why hasn’t he arrived yet?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Are they even going to fight?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s the rush? It’s not even Shen Hour yet…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the crowd swelled, many idle onlookers grew visibly impatient.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The entire archway street crossroad was packed with heads, but the wooden platform stood three zhang tall—no matter where you stood, you could see it clearly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The teahouses and taverns lining the streets offered the best views.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just book a private room on the second floor, open the window, and you’ve got a perfect view of the platform—add a couple pots of tea and invite a few friends, and you’ve got serious face.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Of course, ordinary folk couldn’t afford to book one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anyone who held a prime spot was a prominent figure in Xianyang’s Jianghu, and they were sharply divided by faction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>……\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the eastern tavern, sat the faction of Zhou Pan of the Divine Fist Society—several elder masters, and all Eight Golden Dragons present.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Zhou Bai was clearly among them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He stared at the platform outside, eyes alight with eagerness, and said, “Shall I go up first? Can’t let the crowd grow cold.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was still young—though he often sparred, this was his first time fighting before such a crowd; to say he wasn’t excited was pure lies.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Cold what crowd!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A middle-aged man with black hair, white temples, and a mustache snapped coldly, “Think this is a circus act? Sit still, calm your mind, cultivate your battle intent!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The speaker was Zhou Peide, leader of the Eight Golden Dragons.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was the oldest, most rigid, and his martial skill was only average among the eight—but he was Zhou Pan’s cousin and Zhou Bai’s father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That connection was why he held the top position.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Bai shrank his neck at the rebuke, silent now, but his eyes burned with defiance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yuan Qu saw this and smiled, “Zhou Bai, don’t rush. This isn’t about who came first. That boy submitted a formal challenge to fight first—your turn after shows your noble status.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, I see.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Bai instantly understood.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhou Peide, watching, frowned slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Honestly, he despised Zheng Heibei and Yuan Qu—those two ruffians had repeatedly abused the Zhou family name for their own gain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But his brother Zhou Pan needed to stabilize the Divine Fist Society and maintain connections in Chang’an—money flowed everywhere—and he had to swallow his disgust and tolerate them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After this is over, he’d have to warn Zhou Bai to keep his distance from them…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>……\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the western tavern sat Zhang Yuanshang and several elders.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Relatively speaking, this side was far quieter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, someone couldn’t hold back: “Master Zhang, you personally organized this—you’ve openly broken with that old monkey. Is it worth it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Yuanshang’s face remained calm as he filled his water pipe, lit it, and drew a few puffs. “A family, a sect—elders are the last reserve, but the true future lies with the young. If the children excel, even a poor household earns respect; if the next generation fails, even a grand house will fall.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This generation of the Zhou family? Only Zhou Bai stands out. The rest are either useless drunkards or greedy, lustful fools.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Though the Zhou family now shines bright, that old monkey is old—he’ll never break past Hua Jing. If Zhou Bai loses, some will surely start calculating…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Everyone nodded, deeply agreeing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Jianghu values strength, but ultimately it’s about interests—especially the Divine Fist Society, which still operates within the Great Xuan Dynasty’s rules, not like bandits roaming to seize land by murder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even bandits, if unfit for their station, invite disaster.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Over the past decade, Zhou Pan has done too much.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Xianyang, many are waiting to tear down his house.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is there a chance to win?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Two or three percent.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>!.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Yuanshang drew a few more puffs and said calmly, “I’m an old man. Trading this old face for two or three percent chance? Not a bad deal!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Father, he’s here!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, Zhang Shi Tong, standing by the window, whispered a warning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All turned to look—northwest of the street, a commotion erupted; then, under the shouts of Zhang Clan martial arts instructors, the crowd parted like a crack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A young man strode down the street.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dressed in coarse black martial garb with leg bindings, he looked like a country bumpkin—but his posture was upright, his skin pale, and his eyes sharp as dragon’s gaze and phoenix’s pupils; even in rustic clothes, he stood out sharply in the crowd.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Behind him followed a Daoist and a bearded, bald giant—Sha Li Fei and Wang Daoxuan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is this Li Hu’s son?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An elder in the teahouse blinked in surprise. “Li Hu looks like a bear or a boar—how did he sire a son so handsome? He’d make a fine flower-dancer…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Others chuckled, shaking their heads.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was Luo Shihai, elder of Xianyang’s Bagua Palm and head of the Longsheng Opera Troupe—a true opera fanatic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hadn’t a promising female disciple been defiled by a Zhou family scion and hanged herself in shame, he’d never have joined the Jianghu feud or stood with them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ignoring the varied thoughts of the crowd, Li Yan reached the center of the crossroad, ignoring the stares, his focus entirely on the platform.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the platform, his eyes narrowed slightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sha Li Fei snorted beside him: “The Zhou family’s still up to their old tricks.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The platform was oddly built.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A normal platform, even without plum-blossom stakes, had stacked wooden frames for climbing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this Zhou platform had wooden planks on all sides—no grip at all—and under sunlight, it gleamed with a glossy sheen—clearly coated in tung oil.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was a warning.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With so many watching, if he couldn’t even climb onto the platform, he’d have no face to stay—before the opponent even showed up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No matter. Just a petty trick…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Yan glanced casually around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He saw thick ropes, arm-thick, anchored at each side of the platform, tied to iron stakes driven into the ground—taut and straight, used to secure the central pillar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Without hesitation, Li Yan walked to one of the ropes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The crowd—commoners and Jianghu figures alike—stared wide-eyed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The rope was thick, but at a steep angle, reaching only halfway up the platform—was he going to climb it?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though not hard for martial artists, it looked ungraceful.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It lost him face from the start.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet Li Yan did not use his hands; instead, he stepped on the rope, alternating his left and right foot, walking steadily step by step upward…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Good!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The onlookers immediately burst into applause and cheers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What’s so impressive?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Among the crowd were many thugs from the Iron Knife Gang and the White Ape Gang, who sneered: “That’s just the tightrope act from the Xi Cai Sect—wasn’t this kid once a street performer?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What do you know?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>An old man beside them snorted coldly: “Tightrope walking uses a soft rope and requires specific technique. This boy is clearly exceptional in his lower-body strength—he’s climbing straight up on a hard rope.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“If you don’t understand, don’t speak nonsense.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several thugs, enraged and humiliated, shouted curses and lunged forward to beat him up: “You old bastard—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But before the words were out, their heads lolled and they collapsed unconscious.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several young men in the crowd had already struck secretly, knocking all of them out and kicking them hard in the ribs.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These thugs were unlucky—they’d stumbled upon a senior of the Xi Cai Sect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Below, chaos erupted, but Li Yan’s expression remained unchanged. He walked along the rope to the center of the arena, paused, used the rope’s rebound to launch himself upward, and seized the edge of the platform with his right hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then, with a swift kite-flip, he landed firmly on the platform.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cheers erupted again from below.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Yan bowed to the crowd, then glanced sidelong around the platform, calculating its dimensions and checking for any smooth or uneven patches.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Swish!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Opposite him, Zhou Bai had also been unable to wait; seeing Li Yan on the platform, he leapt straight down from the second-floor window of the tavern.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He rolled forward to absorb the impact, reached the platform’s edge, and, facing the smooth wooden wall, simply reached out and dug his five fingers into it—like a gecko scaling a wall—he scrambled up with swift, steady motions…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1926,"2026-06-19T18:28:32.159Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","62a8b56d4ada29403f21b1974354637079190c5ac18a63221138af89851f967a","the-cursed-blade-s-walk-chapter-46","the-cursed-blade-s-walk-chapter-44",801,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-cursed-blade-s-walk-cover.jpg"]