Chapter Forty-Two: The Starry Rankings Reveal Their Brilliance

The one shouting in the courtyard was Gap-Tooth; Zhong Ming recognized his voice immediately. He pinched the bridge of his nose, rolled out of bed, and stepped outside.

Night had already fallen. The sky was clear and the moon hung high, stars sparse—a perfect night scene.

Moonlight spilled across the yard, revealing Gap-Tooth, panting heavily. Zhong Ming knew at once that trouble had found them again.

He frowned slightly and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Brother Ming, Hei has been detained again.”

Just as Zhong Ming expected—it was Liang Hei causing trouble once more. He sighed, “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Gap-Tooth then recounted the events in detail.

That afternoon, the more Liang Yu brooded over Mr. Guo’s words, the angrier he became. He went to the city’s teahouse to confront Mr. Guo, intending to both reason with him and teach him a lesson, hoping to stop Guo from spreading rumors in the future.

But when he arrived, Mr. Guo was nowhere to be found. Liang Yu then scoured the city for him, even calling on Fei Dacheng, Gap-Tooth, and others for help.

Barely half an hour ago, they finally found Mr. Guo in Jujube Lane by the east city gate. After a heated argument, Liang Yu, unable to outtalk Mr. Guo, brandished his broadsword to intimidate him. Unexpectedly, Mr. Guo proved to be far from ordinary—he subdued Liang Yu and his group within a few moves.

Gap-Tooth added, “Mr. Guo even said he thought you were behind it, Brother Ming. He insists you must come in person to apologize.”

Frowning as he listened, Zhong Ming nodded. “Very well, I’ll go.”

He didn’t want the matter to escalate. After all, Liang Yu was at fault, and Mr. Guo’s background was mysterious—best not to make him an enemy.

He grabbed his horse, Fire-Cloud, mounted swiftly, and set off for the city with Gap-Tooth.

They arrived just as the city gates were being closed. The constables, recognizing Zhong Ming, hurriedly left a gap for him to enter.

Guided by Gap-Tooth, Zhong Ming made his way to Jujube Lane in the east of the city.

Jujube Lane was a dark, narrow alley, home to the poor—just a step above the vagrants outside the city walls. Only a few dim oil lamps flickered in the gloom.

At the alley’s entrance, Zhong Ming dismounted and handed the reins to Gap-Tooth. “I’ll go in alone. Wait here. If no one comes out within the time it takes for one incense stick to burn, go to the Commandant’s Office and report that I’ve been taken.”

One must always guard against others. Having set his precautions, Zhong Ming walked into the alley.

The doors of the first few houses were tightly shut. Only at the alley’s end did he find an open gate, candlelight flickering within, and the faint sounds of Liang Hei and the others groaning.

Zhong Ming called out loudly, “Mr. Guo, Zhong Ming has come as you requested.”

With that, he stepped into the courtyard.

Inside, he saw Liang Yu and Fei Dacheng standing against the wall like punished students, facing the wall without moving.

At the far end of the courtyard stood a small house, its door wide open. Inside, Mr. Guo sat alone at a square table, holding a wine jug, pouring and drinking by himself. Even when the young man entered, he didn’t look up; he simply said, “Come in and speak.”

Zhong Ming glanced at Liang Yu and the others. Throughout, not one had turned to look at him, nor spoken a word.

Quite strange—were it not for their obvious breathing, Zhong Ming might have thought them dead.

He couldn’t fathom Mr. Guo’s intentions, but could only smile and step inside, saying, “Mr. Guo, what refined taste—disciplining students in the yard and drinking alone within.”

Mr. Guo smiled, picked up a few peanuts from a plate, and flicked them into the courtyard. With a whistling sound, the peanuts struck Liang Yu and his companions, who immediately collapsed to the ground, their bodies going limp.

Grumbling, the group got up and began to stretch their limbs.

Zhong Ming understood at once—they’d been paralyzed by Mr. Guo’s pressure-point technique, no wonder they hadn’t moved.

Point striking was a profound skill; inner energy alone was not enough—one needed deep knowledge of human acupoints and special technique.

In the martial world, those who could use it were all grandmasters. But as it was difficult to master and of limited practical use, it had gradually fallen out of favor. Few today could perform it.

Seeing such masterful technique, Zhong Ming couldn’t help but praise, “Mr. Guo, what superb skill.”

Mr. Guo merely smiled, poured Zhong Ming a cup of wine, and replied, “A trifling art, not worth mention.”

At that moment, Liang Yu and Fei Dacheng, seeing Zhong Ming arrive, grew bold. Liang Yu shouted, “Guo, you use these crooked tricks—what kind of hero are you? If you have guts, fight me openly!”

Mr. Guo did not reply, nor was he angered. He simply gazed at Zhong Ming with a smile.

Zhong Ming’s expression darkened; he understood the hint. This was Mr. Guo’s way of telling him to take charge. He said coldly, “Hei, take Dacheng and the others outside. I have words for Mr. Guo.”

The ruckus ceased at once. Liang Yu looked at Zhong Ming in confusion.

Zhong Ming secretly gave him an “OK” sign—a gesture he’d taught Liang Yu, meaning all was well.

Though reluctant, Liang Yu waved his followers away. He had always listened to Zhong Ming, never questioning why.

Once they left, Mr. Guo waved his sleeve, and a gust of wind closed the doors tight.

Seeing this, Zhong Ming narrowed his eyes. Mr. Guo was being exceedingly cautious; clearly, he had something important to say.

Zhong Ming neither guessed nor speculated; he simply drained his cup, saying, “Liang Yu and the others were out of line just now. If they’ve troubled you, Mr. Guo, I apologize on their behalf.”

Mr. Guo smiled and poured him another cup. “There’s nothing to apologize for. It was my story that angered them.”

Zhong Ming lifted his cup. “May I ask, why have you asked me to stay tonight, sir?”

“It’s nothing much. I’m leaving this border town soon and wanted to share a drink with someone before I go.”

He raised his cup in a toast. With reverence, Zhong Ming drank.

Mr. Guo was a refined man; he drank not from a wine saucer but from a porcelain cup—a custom of scholars and gentlemen. Martial men preferred saucers or even drinking straight from the jar.

After two cups, Mr. Guo sighed, “I seldom say farewell before I leave, but tonight’s events are fate, and so I had the notion to share a drink with you.”

Zhong Ming replied humbly, “I am unworthy of such an honor.”

But Mr. Guo was not one for modesty. He laughed, “You’re truly fortunate! In this border town, apart from the little immortal official from the Tian family and the little qilin, only the White Horse Silver Dragon’s top general Yang Yanlang—and today, an elder of the Pill Cauldron Sect—have drunk with me.

Counting the borderlands, only these few are worthy. That you drink with me tonight—consider yourself blessed.”

These words made Zhong Ming’s face flush with embarrassment. What began as humble courtesy, Mr. Guo had turned into a statement of worthlessness.

Such arrogance could only come from someone of great standing. A man like Mr. Guo would never boast idly.

Zhong Ming forced a smile, saying nothing, and simply accompanied Mr. Guo in drinking.

After several rounds, Mr. Guo was tipsy, and Zhong Ming’s cheeks were flushed as well—his tolerance far less than in his previous life. With each cup, his head grew lighter.

Perhaps it was the pleasure of drinking; Mr. Guo set down his cup and recited loudly, “Let us drink today while we have wine—tomorrow’s sorrows can wait till tomorrow!”

“Well said!”

Zhong Ming offered a small compliment, but Mr. Guo only laughed, “It’s but a borrowed verse from the ancients—fits the moment, that’s all.”

After a chuckle, Mr. Guo hiccuped and asked abruptly, “Zhong Ming, do you long for the freedom of the martial world, to act with chivalry, and become a legendary hero known to all?”

The question stunned Zhong Ming. He couldn’t respond for a long while.

It was a question worthy of deep thought. To say he didn’t want it would be a lie—who hadn’t dreamed of being a wandering hero, especially in an age where martial arts and secret techniques truly existed?

But to say he did, Zhong Ming had his reservations. As the saying goes, “Fame courts trouble.” Becoming famous was not always a blessing—it brought endless complications.

After much thought, he realized he was someone who disliked trouble. More than the heroic dream, he desired a good life—best of all, to become a prosperous gentleman and live out his days in ease.

With this in mind, Zhong Ming smiled and replied, “I do not. I have no lofty ambitions—only to live my life in comfort is enough.”

Mr. Guo tugged his rat-tail braid and sighed, “I’m afraid that choice isn’t yours to make.”

Zhong Ming’s expression grew cold. “What do you mean, Mr. Guo?”

Mr. Guo answered, “Did you know your name has already entered the Newcomers’ Roll of the martial world? As the saying goes, ‘Heroes emerge in troubled times; once you enter the martial world, your days rush by.’ Now that you’ve set foot in the jianghu, it’s too late to withdraw.”

The Newcomers’ Roll was one among many rankings in the martial world—there were weapon rankings, beauties’ lists, supreme skills, and countless others.

But the highest among them was the Celestial Roll, divided in two: the Heavenly Gang list, with thirty-six legendary heroes, and the Earthly Fiends list, with seventy-two famed warriors, all celebrated in their realms.

Beneath these was the Newcomers’ Roll, a branch for those still young but already in possession of rare treasures or peerless martial skills.

Zhong Ming had heard of these lists—Mr. Guo had told many stories about them.

But he was puzzled; he was but a novice who had yet to master energy cultivation—how could he qualify for the Newcomers’ Roll?

He asked, “Please speak plainly, sir. I truly don’t understand—how could a nobody like me, barely on the martial path, be listed among the newcomers?”

“A nobody?”

Mr. Guo echoed, then downed his cup and said, “Your father was once among the top ten of the Heavenly Gang, known as the Blade Demon. Your uncle heads the Earthly Fiends. Liu Chengyin, who helped you with energy, was in the top ten of the Earthly Fiends fifty years ago, and now, having mastered demonic arts, is set to join the top three of the Heavenly Gang in next year’s decennial reshuffling.

“In your hand is the world’s second most famous blade, the Yama’s Final Song. You have Yang Yanlang as your guide, and Liu Chengyin’s lineage laying your foundation. Zhong Ming, do you really think, with such a background, you can remain a mere village boy?”

Mr. Guo’s words rang with conviction, sending a tremor through the young man’s heart.

Looking back, Zhong Ming finally understood—he was no longer that destitute youth, pulling weeds and gnawing bark at the edge of Mud Village!