Apricot Grove

Tang Xuan and his companions shared a table with Qiao Feng and began to drink together. The leader of the Eastern Beggar’s Sect truly possessed the heroic spirit described in the legends—broad-minded and generous, a man who inspired admiration. Azhu’s gaze sparkled as she looked at Qiao Feng; this was exactly the kind of hero she had always imagined—undaunted and full of true valor.

At that moment, Qiao Feng downed a bowl of wine in one gulp, then looked at Tang Xuan and asked, “Brother, are you Murong Fu of Gusu?”

Qiao Feng thought to himself, appearing in this region at such a young age, with distinguished bearing and remarkable martial skill—surely this must be the famed Murong Fu of the “North Qiao Feng, South Murong” duo?

“Murong Fu?” Tang Xuan replied with a smile, “Murong Fu is already over thirty years old. Brother, you must have mistaken me for someone else. I am Tang Xuan, a secular disciple of Shaolin, under Master Xuanzhi.”

He found the situation rather amusing. Indeed, Qiao Feng, though a hero among men, had a well-known blind spot—he was hopeless when it came to judging age!

When Qiao Feng first met Duan Yu, he mistook him for Murong Fu. Now, he had also taken Tang Xuan for Murong Fu. Murong Fu, after all, was a man in his thirties, quite different from a young man of about twenty. But how old was Murong Fu, truly? According to his own recollections, after his father Murong Bo’s feigned death, Murong Fu had not only held his breath to the point of seeming dead himself, but had even helped with the burial. Thus, when his father feigned death, Murong Fu must have been at least an intelligent boy of ten—perhaps, given the precociousness of ancient times, at the very least seven or eight.

Moreover, Murong Bo had hidden in Shaolin for thirty years after his feigned death. In that case, Murong Fu would now be close to forty, or at the very least, thirty-seven or thirty-eight. In contrast, both Duan Yu and Tang Xuan were only about twenty. For Qiao Feng to make this mistake again—it was truly an age-blindness!

Later, when Qiao Feng investigated the “ringleader” behind the Yanmen Pass massacre—a matter from thirty years prior—he even mistook Duan Zhengchun, the Prince of Dali, for the ringleader. Thirty years ago, Duan Zhengchun was just barely past ten himself; no matter his status, how could he have been the “ringleader”? A “little leader” would have been more appropriate!

Hearing that the friend with whom he was drinking and feasting was not Murong Fu, Qiao Feng looked surprised. So, this was Tang Xuan, a secular disciple of Shaolin under Master Xuanzhi? No wonder he possessed such impressive skills at a young age!

With his own supreme martial abilities, Qiao Feng could sense that Tang Xuan was among the finest masters of the era. He had thought that such skill in one so young, appearing in the region of Gusu, could only mean he was Murong Fu of the “North Qiao Feng, South Murong” renown. But unexpectedly, it was Tang Xuan!

His junior fellow disciple! Qiao Feng was also a secular disciple of Shaolin, under Master Xuanku. He had long heard of Tang Xuan’s reputation. The day Master Xuanzhi and his disciple Tang Xuan killed the “Scarlet Serpent Fairy” Li Mochou, two Beggar Sect members had witnessed it with their own eyes. Later, at the Dajiaoguan Martial Assembly, Tang Xuan defeated both apprentices of the “Golden Wheel Lama,” Huo Du and Darba. Not only did he retrieve the antidote from Huo Du, rescuing one of Master Yideng’s top disciples, but he also brought honor to the Song martial world in front of all, establishing the foundation for the “Alliance to Protect the Nation.”

“So it’s Brother Tang!” Qiao Feng laughed heartily, slapping Tang Xuan on the shoulder in camaraderie. As fellow secular disciples of Shaolin, both under monks of the Xuanzhi lineage, their relationship was indeed close. Tang Xuan’s easy manner over food and drink was much to Qiao Feng’s liking.

“Greetings, Brother Qiao,” Tang Xuan replied with a slight smile, directly acknowledging Qiao Feng’s identity.

Qiao Feng was momentarily taken aback, then burst out laughing. Just as he was about to say more, the sound of footsteps came from the stairs; two beggars walked up to their table and bowed respectfully to Qiao Feng, who nodded in return.

One of the beggars said, “Chief, the other side has agreed to meet tomorrow morning at the Huishan Pavilion.”

Qiao Feng frowned. “That’s rather sudden.”

The other beggar said, “I told them the meeting should be in three days, but they seemed to know our numbers are incomplete and mocked us, saying that if we didn’t dare show, we needn’t bother tomorrow.”

Qiao Feng laughed aloud, “Since when have I, Qiao Feng, ever feared anyone? Spread the word—tonight at the third watch, everyone will gather at Huishan. We’ll arrive first and wait for them.”

The two beggars bowed and hurried downstairs.

Tang Xuan understood: this was a meeting between Qiao Feng and the Western Xia envoys at Huishan Pavilion. However, it seemed unlikely Qiao Feng would make it to that meeting tomorrow morning.

For the Apricot Grove Incident was about to occur!

Thinking this, Tang Xuan glanced at the Dog-Beating Staff beside Qiao Feng. Once Qiao Feng ceased to be the Beggar Sect leader, the staff would be returned to the sect rather than carried by him, and Tang Xuan would have a chance to obtain this treasure. If the legendary weapon of the martial world remained in Qiao Feng’s hands, with Qiao Feng’s unmatched skills, Tang Xuan would stand no chance of acquiring it.

Qiao Feng turned to Tang Xuan, just about to speak again, when two more beggars hurried up the stairs—different from the previous pair. They quickly approached Qiao Feng, bowed, and one reported, “Chief, a suspicious man has broken into the Daoyi Branch. His martial skills are formidable. Branch Leader Jiang suspects ill intent and fears he cannot hold him off…”

Qiao Feng’s brow furrowed, and he interrupted, “Who is this man?”

The other beggar replied, “A tall, thin, middle-aged man—quite rude and overbearing.”

Qiao Feng snorted. “Branch Leader Jiang is being overly cautious. The man is alone—surely he can handle him?”

The beggar answered, “Chief, his martial arts are exceptional.”

Qiao Feng smiled, “Very well, I’ll see for myself.”

The two beggars replied in unison, “Yes, Chief!”

Qiao Feng looked at Tang Xuan. The two of them had been enjoying their meal and drink but had not yet had their fill. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Brother Tang, I have some matters to attend to. Another day, let us drink to our heart’s content!”

Tang Xuan smiled, “I have nothing pressing. Why not accompany you for some excitement?”

“Oh?” Qiao Feng raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Excellent! After I’ve dealt with this, we’ll continue our drinking!”

Tang Xuan nodded in agreement with a smile.

At once, the two beggars took the lead. Tang Xuan, together with Wang Yuyan, Duan Yu, Azhu, Abi, and the others, followed Qiao Feng out of the restaurant and headed beyond the city.

The group exited Wuxi, traveled about a mile, then turned left, winding along the country paths. This area was rich farmland, crisscrossed with waterways. After several miles, they entered a grove of apricot trees.