Wandering Swordsman |

At the Nanjing Martial Arts Alliance, the morning light was just beginning to break, and a thin mist, like gauze, gently shrouded the courtyard with its green tiles and white walls.

Shen Mo sat upright at his desk in his residence, his black clothes untied and his dark hair half-down, as he bent over to sort out the wedding documents.

His penmanship is steady and his handwriting is sharp and powerful, with every stroke revealing restraint and order.

The bamboo shadows swayed outside the window, reflecting on his cool profile, as if even the morning breeze dared not disturb this renowned "Sword God" of the martial world.

Just then, Situ Meng slowly entered, carrying a freshly brewed cup of Longjing tea. She was dressed in white, her features gentle and graceful.

She gently placed the teacup on the corner of the table and said softly, "Shen Mo, should we double-check the guest list for the wedding invitations?"

Shen Mo raised his eyes, the icy coldness in them softening slightly, and was about to speak—

"Shen Mo!"

A clear, melodious female voice came from the courtyard gate, like the clinking of gold and jade.

Murong Qing arrived in the morning light, dressed in a crimson outfit, with a green phoenix sword at his waist. His brows exuded a heroic air, yet he could not conceal the solemnity in his eyes.

She went straight inside, her voice low but sharp: "I received a message last night from the Murong family's Hangzhou branch. The Shen family in Hangzhou has recently been issuing notices claiming you are a direct descendant of the Sword God."

"Furthermore, they've used your 'Sword God' name to monopolize the canal transport in Jiangnan and drive up salt and iron prices!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the room fell silent.

Shen Mo's hand holding the pen paused, a drop of ink falling onto the paper, spreading into a thick black mass, like a sudden gloom rising in his heart. He slowly raised his eyes, his gaze sharp as a blade, his expression turning cold, a hidden disgust and alienation flashing in his eyes—not towards Murong Qing, but towards the three words "Shen Family Village".

Situ Mengyi's expression changed slightly, and she quietly retreated to the side, her fingertips unconsciously clenching her sleeves.

After a long silence, Shen Mo finally spoke, his voice low and calm like a still well: "I have absolutely no connection with Shen Family Village. Let me explain why."

He put down his pen, his tone calm but concealing an unspeakable loneliness, and then Shen Mo recounted his relationship with Shen Family Village.

After Shen Mo finished explaining the whole story, the two women's eyes were filled with pity.

However, Shen Mo said with a serious expression, "This matter has damaged my reputation, and I cannot sit idly by. There is still more than a month until the wedding, and I need to go to Shen Family Village to deal with this matter."

"No!" Murong Qing stopped him decisively, his voice clear and melodious. "If you go in person, it will only confirm the claim that 'Shen Family Village is related to you.'"

People in the martial arts world are inherently suspicious. Your appearance will be proof of "family reunification," which will only fuel the rumors, leaving you with no way to defend yourself.

Her eyes, sharp as autumn water reflecting a sword, held an undeniable gentleness: "You don't need to get involved in this. Your affairs are the affairs of the Murong family."

She paused, then spoke each word clearly and forcefully: "If the Shen family dares to use your name to flaunt their power, they will be making an enemy of the Murong family. I will handle this matter."

As soon as he finished speaking, the room became so quiet that you could hear the sound of bamboo leaves falling to the ground.

Shen Mo was stunned.

He looked at Murong Qing—the woman who was about to become his wife—and saw no trace of tenderness in her eyes, only a resolute determination to protect his reputation and honor.

She wasn't trying to get him out of a predicament; rather, she was using the prestige of the entire Murong family to build a barrier for him.

A long-awaited warmth quietly washed over my heart.

......

Shenjiazhuang in Hangzhou features vermilion gates and high walls, with flying eaves and bracket sets. Hundreds of red silk lanterns hang under the eaves, making the entire manor look as if it is draped in a rosy robe.

Colorful flags fluttered along both sides of the bluestone avenue, bearing the six gilded characters "Shen Clan Association Meeting," shining brightly in the autumn sun.

The manor was bustling with activity, servants moved about busily, carrying plates and cups, sweeping and cleaning the courtyard; the kitchen stoves were brightly lit, steaming with the aroma of delicacies; on the stage, the music was just beginning, and the actors were testing their voices. Before they had even finished singing "Joyful Arrival," the guests were already nodding in approval.

Outside the manor gate, the ten-mile-long street was covered with red carpets, and the ancient locust trees along the roadside were adorned with gold leaf, as if even the wind was filled with joy. Heroes from all walks of life arrived one after another. The chief镖头 of the Jiangnan镖局 (Jiangnan Escort Agency) came with twelve镖旗 (镖旗, escort flags), the 协帮 (Cao Gang) leader led a hundred men to offer their congratulations, and there were also envoys from various sects in the Zhejiang area who came from afar to present gifts.

Shenjiazhuang was not as prosperous as it had been in a century. Everyone's face was filled with glory, as if the words "Sword God" had transformed into a golden road leading to the top of the martial arts world.

Amidst the deafening drums and splendid decorations, a swift horse galloped in from the official road, its hooves shattering the red carpet and raising clouds of dust. The messenger dismounted and loudly reported, "Reporting! The main branch of the Murong family from Luoyang has arrived and is at Shili Pavilion!"

"The Murong family?!"

Madam Shen, née Lin, was putting on her hair ornaments in front of the mirror in the inner room when she heard this. The jade hairpin in her hand snapped with a "crack," but she didn't seem to notice. She only asked in a trembling voice, "But... but did Murong Qing come in person?"

"No," the messenger gasped, "they are three elders, with white hair and dignified bearing. They are not wearing wedding clothes, but rather black robes."

"Black robe?" Shen Tianxing, who was checking the gift list, looked up abruptly upon hearing this, his eyes flashing with a sharp light. "Could it be that they've come early to deliver invitations for Shen Mo's wedding? The Murong family is indeed generous with their gifts!" He was overjoyed and immediately ordered his men to prepare to welcome him, afraid of losing face.

Overjoyed, Madam Lin wept tears of joy. She hurriedly took off her old robe and put on the black-and-gold-threaded cloud and crane brocade robe that she had kept at the bottom of her trunk. It was the wedding dress she wore when she invited Shen Tianxing to marry into her family. It hadn't been touched for thirty years, but today she was wearing it again for her "future in-laws".

She ordered people to burn incense and sprinkle pure water, and even wrapped the threshold with three layers of soft silk, for fear of being the slightest bit negligent.

The entire estate, from the owner to the servants, lined up on both sides of the vermilion gate, heads bowed and breathless, waiting for the distinguished guest.

At midday, three ebony carriages slowly drove up to the front of the manor.

The carriage curtain was lifted, and three white-haired elders stepped out slowly. Their robes fluttered without wind, and their dark robes were embroidered with silver cloud patterns. They were solemn as frost, without a trace of joy.

The leader held a scroll with gold trim and jade axis, his face as cold and stern as iron. His gaze swept over the red silk and the deafening drums and music in the room, without a trace of a smile.

Shen Tianxing was slightly taken aback, but he still forced himself to remain calm and cupped his hands in greeting: "The three elders have come from afar. I am sorry for not welcoming you properly. Please forgive me—"

Before he could finish speaking, the elder interrupted him loudly, his voice like a cold bell, silencing the entire hall:

"By order of Patriarch Murong—"

The entire venue fell silent instantly, even the drumming stopped abruptly, as if even the wind had held its breath.

"The Shen Family Manor falsely claims that 'Sword God Shen Mo' is their kin, using his reputation to monopolize the canal transport, raise salt and iron prices, deceive the world, and tarnish the reputation of the Murong family. Shen Mo has already stated that he has no connection with the Shen Family Manor whatsoever. How dare you use blood ties as bait to seek personal gain? You are utterly shameless!"

The elder's voice was like a knife, each word piercing the heart.

"From this day forward, Shen Family Village is forbidden from acting under the name of 'Shen Mo's relatives.' Any violation will be punished by the Murong Family in conjunction with the Martial Arts Alliance, according to the law, without exception!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the world seemed to freeze.

The guests were stunned, exchanging bewildered glances. Some dropped their wine glasses with a crash, shattering them into pieces. Others quietly retreated, as if afraid of being caught up in this terrible disaster. Even the wealthy guests who had just been talking about the "rise of the Shen family" were now pale-faced, wishing they could leave immediately.

The actors on the stage stood frozen in place, their pipa strings broken and silent; the steamer in the kitchen was still steaming, but no one dared to lift the lid; even the high-hanging red lanterns swayed slightly in the autumn wind, reflecting a glaring crimson color.