Chapter 79: Confrontation in the Hall

“That brat dares show up here?”

“Hmph, carried away by success, pushing people too far!”

Inside the Zhou family’s main gate, several disciples whispered low.

Their gazes were all fixed on the Zhang family’s group.

Among them, besides Zhang’s father and son and their disciples, were two conspicuous figures: one in black military robes with sharp eyes, the other tall, bald, with a full beard—Li Yan and Sha Lifei.

The Zhou disciples were all furious.

Other factions were understandable—they all moved in Xianyang’s circles, had some past grudges or ties with the old Zhou family, and today came to settle accounts.

But what are you, Li Yan?

You came to Xianyang, crippled Zhou Bai to make a name for yourself, even drove Zhou Peide to desperation, landing him in prison, sentenced to execution come autumn.

In and out, you’ve never taken a loss.

Now you come knocking again—aren’t you stepping on their faces?

Of course, given the current situation, no one dared speak up.

After anger came helplessness and sorrow rising in their hearts.

Li Yan’s spiritual awareness was sharp—he sensed every hostile glance.

He didn’t bother to care, instead glancing behind.

There stood a middle-aged man in black robes, wearing a square hat, tall, with streaks of gray at his temples, his features stern and imposing, flanked by two yamen runners.

It was Xianyang’s chief constable, Guan Wanchè.

Beside him, Sha Lifei sneered low: “Why stare at him? A turncoat, not worth your time.”

Sha Lifei was right—many on the Guanzhong road knew Guan Wanchè had once been sworn brothers with Li Hu, closer than this old Zhang patriarch.

Yet when his father died, Guan never showed up; for years he never visited Li family fortress to see his grandfather and grandson; Li Yan didn’t even know such a man existed.

According to Zhang Shi, when Guan Wanchè was transferred to Xianyang as constable, many thought he’d come to harass Zhou Pan—but nothing happened.

The only time he acted was during the Zheng Xian family massacre, when a runner tried to make him a scapegoat—Guan Wanchè stopped him.

Li Yan didn’t care about human coldness.

On the Jianghu, people hadn’t even left before the tea turned cold.

What puzzled him was why Guan Wanchè was here.

As if sensing his gaze, Guan Wanchè walked straight over, expressionless, sizing him up, then said coolly: “Do you harbor resentment toward me?”

Li Yan replied calmly: “Strangers have no grudges.”

“Good.”

Guan Wanchè nodded with a cold smile: “I swore brotherhood with your father, but he betrayed my sister—ran off to Mount Taibai to become a Daoist, left my mother weeping daily. Have you ever seen a brother like that?”

Li Yan’s face stiffened, forcing a awkward laugh: “That… I don’t know much about the previous generation’s affairs.”

At this, he recalled the past.

His father never came home for the New Year, already angering his grandfather—then two beautiful women showed up at the gate, fighting over him, throwing a tantrum that nearly killed the old man.

One of them, he thought, had the surname Guan.

And from what they said, his father’s romantic debts went beyond that…

Thinking of it, Li Yan felt helpless.

Around him, not only Sha Lifei’s eyes widened, but even Zhang’s father and son and their disciples had all leaned in, faces alight with gossip.

“Go away.”

Li Yan shoved Sha Lifei aside, sternly saying: “I won’t speak of the elders’ affairs—but if you have grudges, bring them on.”

“Bring them on?”

Guan Wanchè sneered: “My sister was meek, took the loss and swallowed it—but some women aren’t to be trifled with. Can you handle them?”

His expression softened slightly, he sighed, clapped Li Yan on the shoulder: “After all, you’re the son of an old friend. Since you’ve entered the Jianghu, watch yourself—don’t follow your father’s path.”

Then he turned and strode into the Zhou family compound.

Zhang Yuanshang beside him stroked his beard and nodded: “It seems this Constable Guan isn’t heartless—just holding onto anger.”

“Let’s go. Today, we see off the old monkey.”

Saying this, he led everyone into the compound.

Li Yan lagged behind a few steps, silently pulling a slip of paper from the seam of his shoulder robe—his eyes flashed with fury as he read the characters.

…………

The Zhou family compound was vast, with multiple courtyards, each with its own training ground, weapons displayed everywhere—rumor had it they once had hundreds of disciples.

This was only the martial school disciples, not counting the outer circles under the Eight Golden Giants.

One could imagine how glorious the Zhou family once was.

Now, disciples had fled, leaving fewer than a hundred; many courtyards stood empty, floors littered and untended.

Soon, the main hall was filled.

The hall itself was large—over three times the size of Zhang’s martial school—and dignitaries sat on either side, disciples standing behind them.

Even so, large sections of the hall remained empty.

The one presiding over the washing-of-the-basin ceremony was Zhou Yuan Shan, a disciple of Zhou Pan and one of the Eight Golden Giants, also a Zhou family member. Unlike Zhou Peide, he was tall, with a dull, honest demeanor.

He bowed to all directions: “Today is an auspicious day—my master’s time to wash his basin. Your presence honors our humble home.”

“Save the flattery.”

A man in green robes scowled, sipped tea, and snapped: “So many Jianghu peers came—Zhou Pan doesn’t even greet us at the gate, makes us wait? How arrogant!” The speaker was Han Kun, boss of the Canal Guild.

The Canal Guild was a true giant, dominating northern docks—wherever rivers ran, their disciples walked; their branches were numerous.

Northern Canal Guild, southern Pai Jiao, maritime Si Hai Guild—anyone making a living on water was tied to them.

Xianyang’s Canal Guild was merely a small branch.

Yet even so, Boss Han held high status—he was a Hua Jing expert, equal in rank to Zhou Pan.

It was precisely because of the Canal Guild and Tai Xing Carting’s involvement that Zhou Pan grew wary, deciding to retreat and preserve strength.

When Han Kun erupted, Zhou Yuan Shan broke into sweat, about to explain—when a series of elderly coughs came from behind.

“Boss Han, I’m not being arrogant.”

An old man slowly entered from the side door—it was Zhou Pan.

But now he looked exhausted, hair and beard withered white, as if aged decades in mere days.

!.

“Forgive me for the spectacle.”

Seeing the astonished stares, Zhou Pan chuckled bitterly: “Just settled some family matters. My disciples refused to come—fine—but even my own kin are demanding to split the family. Hah, truly laughable.”

Many present were heads of households.

Without managing a household, you don’t know the cost of rice and salt.

Once you do, you realize rice and salt are minor—what truly breaks you is disunity among people.

Remembering Zhou Pan’s former arrogance, all felt a chill—Jianghu is hard; who knows when it’ll be their turn?

Zhou Pan seemed drained, bowed, voice hoarse: “I spent my life striving, made few friends, many enemies. Now I see—everything is fate; not a single thing is in one’s hands.”

“If I ever offended anyone, I beg your forgiveness.”

Seeing silence, he gave a hollow laugh, shook his head: “I’m tired. I want to return home, become a peasant. Let’s settle all grudges today.”

“Live or die—grudges erased!”

He turned, nodded to the side.

There stood a bronze basin, its wooden stand made of fine sandalwood, the basin itself high-quality, gleaming gold, carved with five bats, half-filled with clear water.

Zhou Yuan Shan took three incense sticks, lit them, bowed thrice before the ancestral portrait, then placed them in the censer.

The Canal Guild, Tai Xing Carting, and the various martial schools led by the Zhang family had all prepared—they wouldn’t make trouble.

The heads nodded; disciples immediately stepped forward, tying red cloth strips to the basin’s stand, signifying no objection.

Once the three incense sticks burned out and no one raised objections, the basin-washing could begin—he’d fully exit the Jianghu.

“Some things must be settled!”

Luo Shihai slammed his teacup down, coldly: “Old monkey, don’t play the victim—when you strutted around, you never thought of this!”

Zhou Pan seemed to expect it, bowed deeply: “Brother Luo, I wronged you. Bring him in!”

Instantly, two disciples dragged a man into the hall.

He was a handsome middle-aged man, once noble-looking, but now with puffy eyes and a dissipated air, face pale with terror, kneeling and banging his head: “Uncle, spare me! Uncle, spare me!”

Zhou Pan sighed: “When a family grows large, things slip beyond control. When my mother was alive, one order from her—I had to betray Brother Luo.”

“Zhou Luohai committed several crimes—I’ve reported him to the authorities. Constable Guan is here today—he’ll take him away. Likely execution come autumn.”

“Brother Luo, is this satisfactory?”

“Hah!”

Luo Shihai wouldn’t be satisfied: “You old bastard, playing the righteous one—why didn’t you do this sooner?”

Still, he had no grounds to provoke—glared at Zhou Pan, then ordered his disciple to tie the red strip.

Zhou Pan’s face remained calm, bowed again to all:

“Anyone else wish to settle grudges?”

Though he’d lost everything, since he intended to wash his basin, he’d prepared—secretly negotiated with all sides, made many concessions.

Even the troublesome Luo Shihai had been handled.

Once the basin-washing ended, he’d leave Xianyang immediately.

But just as he felt triumphant inside, Li Yan slowly stood up.

“Oh?”

Zhou Pan’s gaze turned dark. “Boy, others I might overlook, but you crippled a Zhou family disciple—this grudge is ours!”

“Settling grudges isn’t done this way…”

Li Yan’s face was expressionless as he stepped into the hall and asked bluntly: “I only want to know—was my father’s death connected to you?”

Zhou Pan shook his head. “Your father died dishonorably. Had I the chance, I would have defeated him openly and fairly.”

“What a fine ‘open and fair’!”

Li Yan’s eyes flashed with killing intent: “Anqing Hall, Lu Gongyuan—don’t tell me you’ve forgotten, man of the Zhou clan!”

At these words, Zhou Pan’s expression instantly changed…

(End of Chapter)