Chapter 53: The Spirit Fox That Guards the Family
“I am Suzuki Genkuro,” Suzuki Genkuro said politely, bowing low.
“You’re from Fusang?” Song Jinlong sounded surprised.
“Yes.”
“I don’t think I know you, do I?”
“No.”
Song Jinlong’s gaze turned cold and sharp as he questioned, “Since there’s no grudge between us, why did you poison my guests?”
Suzuki Genkuro bowed again. “I am truly sorry to have troubled you. I came here for something.”
He maintained the most courteous of bows, all the while committing a most despicable act.
“Oh? What could possibly be worth such effort? I’d like to see it for myself!”
Suzuki Genkuro stepped forward and picked up a snuff bottle that had fallen to the floor.
A thick carpet covered the ground, so the snuff bottle remained unbroken.
Song Boyuan found it unbelievable and pointed at the bottle. “You went to all this trouble for something so worthless? Is it really worth it?”
Suzuki Genkuro smiled. “It’s no harm to tell you.”
“This snuff bottle contains something of great importance. In Fusang, there is a person of great stature whose family’s pipe fox is missing.”
Song Boyuan interrupted with a puzzled frown. “What is a pipe fox?”
Suzuki Genkuro explained with a gentle smile, “The pipe fox, in our Fusang, is a very special being.”
“They are not ordinary foxes, but spiritual foxes raised by families for generations and trained in secret arts to deliver messages and guard the household.”
“This particular pipe fox is the guardian spirit of that person’s lineage. Its loss has deprived the family of its protective force and will affect their fortune.”
Song Jinlong’s face showed astonishment. “So, you’re saying that inside this snuff bottle is the missing pipe fox?”
Suzuki Genkuro nodded. “Exactly. That family wields vast power and influence. To retrieve the pipe fox, they are willing to pay any price.”
“I happened to discover where the fox was and managed to seal it within this snuff bottle. But due to an accident, the bottle was lost. Luckily, I have finally recovered it.”
“But how did you know the snuff bottle would end up at the auction?” Song Jinlong asked, puzzled.
Suzuki Genkuro grinned proudly. “That’s where my mastery of Fusang’s ancient mystic arts comes in. I can sense the presence of spiritual beings and tracked the pipe fox to its final location.”
Song Jinlong nodded. “Since it’s a thing of Fusang, take it back with you. Do not harm my guests. Let’s pretend tonight never happened, and I won’t utter a word of it.”
A sly, greedy smile flickered across Suzuki Genkuro’s face.
He spoke slowly, “Mr. Song, I, Suzuki Genkuro, am not satisfied with just reclaiming the pipe fox.”
“Look around you—these guests are the most elite in Jiangning, of noble status and vast wealth. If I were to take them all, their families would spare no expense to ransom them.”
“In this way, Fusang will not only gain a fortune in ransom, but also showcase our strength—let the people of Jiangning know that we, the Fusang people, are superior to you of Huaguo!”
He clapped his hands sharply.
Immediately, two or three dozen samurai, each armed with a katana, rushed in from outside.
They were well-trained and fierce, clearly prepared and waiting.
“Long before the auction began, I sneaked into the kitchen and laced the food and wine with sedatives. I didn’t expect to miss you two.”
“But it’s no matter—I can take you away conscious or not.”
Suzuki Genkuro addressed the warriors in his native tongue, “A few of you, bind those two. Carry the rest out as well!”
“Yes!” the samurai responded in unison.
Song Jinlong, though he couldn’t understand the words, could well imagine their meaning.
He said in a grave tone, “Suzuki Genkuro, do you know the consequences of this? Jiangning is not a place where Fusang can run rampant!”
Suzuki Genkuro laughed heartily, unconcerned. “Consequences? I represent the Fusang Kanpo Association; we are not to be trifled with.”
“And besides, with the Prince of Jiangning in my hands as a hostage, who would dare act rashly? As your own proverb says, ‘capture the ringleader to subdue the gang.’ From now on, Jiangning will be ruled by Fusang!”
With that, he waved his hand, signaling his men to begin.
Suddenly, one of the men lying on the floor sprang up with the agility of a carp leaping from water, startling everyone.
Suzuki Genkuro cried out in shock, “Gu Xiangnan, how are you awake?”
Gu Xiangnan replied calmly, “Such a trivial sedative could never put me down.”
“But this is Fusang’s most potent sedative—even an elephant would succumb.”
“You may not know, but my master is the Gentle Alchemist. I recognized your drug the moment I tasted it and neutralized it instantly.”
“The Gentle Alchemist?” Suzuki Genkuro frowned, searching his memory.
As if recalling something, he exclaimed in disbelief, “The Gentle Alchemist? I thought she was merely a legend of Huaguo, said to cure all poisons.”
“That’s right. She is my second master.”
Suzuki Genkuro, emboldened by his numbers, scoffed at Gu Xiangnan, “I’ve heard of you, Gu Xiangnan. Your martial prowess is well known—you’ve even killed and wounded many of our own. Tonight, I’ll use this chance to avenge my Fusang warriors!”
He retreated a few paces, drew his hand across his throat in a slashing gesture, and shouted, “Strangle him—now!”
The black-clad warriors surged forward.
These men were death warriors, rigorously trained and utterly ruthless, cultivated by the Fusang Kanpo Association for this very purpose.
All at once, two or three dozen of them attacked, intent on killing Gu Xiangnan.
One samurai charged, raising his katana high and bringing it down toward Gu Xiangnan’s neck with lightning speed, aiming to behead him on the spot.
Gu Xiangnan didn’t spare him a glance. Guided only by the sound of the blade slicing through the air, he raised two fingers and effortlessly caught the razor-sharp sword.
With a slight twist, the seven-millimeter-thick, steel-forged katana shattered into more than a dozen fragments, exploding into pieces.
The samurai stood dumbfounded, left holding only a hilt, while the others gazed on in utter shock.
Was Gu Xiangnan’s strength truly this terrifying?
A nameless fear surged in their hearts.
Gu Xiangnan’s lips curled into a faint smile—at last, he could fight to his heart’s content.
He struck quickly, landing a palm squarely on a samurai’s chest.
With a dull thud, before a cry could escape, a bloody hole burst through the man’s chest and he collapsed, dead.
Another came from the right. Gu Xiangnan’s large hand smacked down, driving the man’s head deep into his torso.
At the same time, three samurai appeared behind Gu Xiangnan, moving in perfect coordination.
One acted as bait, drawing Gu Xiangnan’s attention from the front, while the other two crept up silently from behind, ready to deliver a lethal blow.
Three gleaming blades arced toward Gu Xiangnan.
He leapt into the air, and all three blades cut nothing but empty space.
Mid-air, he kicked out three times.
Crack, crack, crack!
All three samurai had their necks snapped almost simultaneously and collapsed in a heap.
Gu Xiangnan turned from hunted to hunter, charging into the midst of the warriors.
His palms flew with dazzling speed.
Smack, smack, smack, smack!
Each blow was followed by a blood-curdling scream. The remaining samurai had their bones crushed and died instantly.
Suzuki Genkuro trembled uncontrollably in terror.
He fumbled desperately for a pistol and aimed it at Song Jinlong.
“Don’t come any closer, or I’ll kill him!”