42: Chapter 42 A Small Boat

The rain hadn't stopped; the surface of Old Stork Bay was struck by lines of rain, creating billions of silver-like points of light.

But tonight in Old Stork Bay, no one was destined to sleep.

On the riverbank, torches were like a forest, and shadows flickered.

Crude oilcloth sheds were set up one after another, unable to block the slanting rain or the thousands of burning eyes.

It was crowded with people.

There were busybodies purely there for the spectacle, squatting on muddy high ground with dry rations, craning their necks.

There were Jianghu travelers with sabers and swords, looking alert, gathered in groups of three or five, whispering news.

Even more were soldiers from the Three Rivers Estuary Patrol Inspection Division, wearing black uniforms with standard-issue long sabers at their waists; rain flowed down their armor as they silently stood on the periphery, their gazes cold, as if watching a farce that had nothing to do with them.

As long as it didn't affect the shore or disturb civilians, Jianghu vendettas followed Jianghu rules; they wouldn't collect the bodies until dawn.

The most bustling places were the several temporary gambling sheds.

"Place your bets, place your bets! Final moments! 'Li Feiyu appears' pays twelve to one! 'Li Feiyu escapes unscathed' pays thirty to one! Bets are in, hands off!"

A greasy-faced bookie stood on high ground, shouting at the top of his lungs, spit flying along with the rain.

On the wooden board behind him, the real-time odds were written in charcoal, striking to the eye.

"I'll bet ten taels! He won't come! Only a fool would go to his death!"

A man wrapped in a coir raincoat pushed through the crowd and slammed a silver ingot onto the table.

"Heh, I'll bet five taels that he shows up! Just for that line 'The ones I kill are from the White Dragon Gang,' he's a real man! It's worth this price even if he dies!"

Another younger Jianghu traveler shouted with a flushed face, causing a burst of laughter and boos.

"What's the use of showing up! He has to get the saber and leave alive! Do you dare bet on 'escaping unscathed'? It's thirty times!" someone jeered.

The young Jianghu traveler was immediately choked up, remaining silent in embarrassment.

Behind the thirty-to-one odds was the outcome everyone tacitly accepted.

Certain death.

The clamor, arguments, sound of rain, and crackling of burning torches mixed in the humid air, making the riverbank feel like a boiling marketplace.

Except this marketplace traded in a man's life and death, a bloody drama.

Slightly further away, on higher ground with a better view, several more spacious and sturdy sheds were set up.

The people here had significantly more stable Auras, often followed by elite guards.

Leaders of small and medium Gangs, heads of passing merchant caravans, prominent Martial Artists from nearby towns...

They silently watched the center of the river, occasionally whispering to their confidants, their gazes filled more with scrutiny and calculation.

"The White Dragon Gang has brought out all their hidden strength this time," a middle-aged man with a short beard said softly. Behind him stood four sharp-eyed swordsmen. "It's said the Eight Great Vajras have all been deployed, surrounding the entire Old Stork Bay. They say anyone who comes will be let in, and then they'll all be killed together."

"It's more than just around the river," a black-robed elder beside him squinted, two Iron Orbs rotating silently in his hand. "What about underwater? Under the firelight, shadows occasionally flash by, much larger than fish but with eerie speed... That's the Ghost Ray Squad the White Dragon Gang has raised for years, specializing in underwater assassinations. It's said the members are at least in the Iron Bone Realm, and the leader is even in the Viscera Burning Realm."

"This is a certain-death trap," the middle-aged man concluded, his tone complex. "Bai Tianxiao wants to use Li Feiyu's head to re-establish his prestige in the Three Rivers Estuary. Their recent movements have been too large and have drawn much criticism; they need such a bloody deterrent."

The black-robed elder chuckled, the sound of the Iron Orbs rotating slightly faster.

"Deterrent? I see it as a show. If that Li Feiyu were truly smart, he wouldn't show up tonight. Who is this setup for? It's for us spectators, and for those dissatisfied with the White Dragon Gang... Those who follow prosper, and those who resist will have their corpses sink to the bottom of the river."

Their conversation voiced the thoughts of many on the shore.

This encirclement and killing had long surpassed simple revenge; it had become a declaration of power, a redefinition of Jianghu rules.

Among all the sheds, the one in the best position and most heavily guarded belonged to the Canglang Water Dock.

Dock Master Dock Master stood under the eaves with his hands behind his back.

He was about fifty, with a square face and a beard like halberds. He wore a dark green brocade robe, his Aura as steady as a mountain or deep pool—he was clearly at the Peak of the Viscera Burning Realm.

However, his brow carried the steadiness and fatigue of handling complex affairs year-round, completely different from the sharp and domineering Evil Qi of Bai Tianxiao.

Beside him stood his only son, Hong Zhen, in his early twenties, with vibrant vitality and an Iron Bone Realm cultivation. He was currently looking at the brilliantly lit Tower Ship in the center of the river with a face full of excitement and nervousness.

"Father, which... side are we on?" Hong Zhen couldn't help but ask in a low voice. "The White Dragon Gang is making such a big deal out of this; should our Water Dock..."

Dock Master did not answer immediately.

His gaze slowly swept over the noisy crowd on the shore, the flickering shadows on the river, and finally landed on that Hundred Refinements Workshop Tower Ship that was like a sun in the center of the river.

The Tower Ship was truly too conspicuous.

Five giant boats were linked by iron chains, moored steadily in the middle of the river like a steel fortress rising from the water.

The main building was five stories high, with eaves like wings and layered brackets; even on a pouring rainy night, its silhouette remained imposing and clear.

The hull was made of dark ironwood and covered with riveted iron plates, reflecting a cold, hard metallic luster under the lights.

About twenty zhang from the Tower Ship, a thick iron pole rose from the water, and at its top, a white flag with a black flood dragon danced wildly in the wind and rain!

The vicious flood dragon bared its teeth as if to devour someone, its ferocity fully exposed.

The Flood Dragon Flag of the White Dragon Gang!

This flag silently announced that tonight, this stretch of water had become the hunting ground of the White Dragon Gang.

Dock Master watched for a long while before slowly withdrawing his gaze, whispering to his son beside him:

"Which side?" His voice was low but carried an unquestionable calmness. "Remember, Zhen'er, tonight we only brought our eyes, not our blades. We are on no one's side."

Hong Zhen was stunned: "But Father, the White Dragon Gang has always been competing with us for pier business, and that Bai Tianxiao is so arrogant..."

"Competition doesn't mean it has to be a life-and-death struggle," Dock Master interrupted him, his tone even deeper. "There are also times for cooperation. This Flying Fish City and the Three Rivers Estuary are neither too big nor too small. The Water Dock, the White Dragon Gang, the Patrol Inspection Division, and other various large and small forces... there are too many. So many that no one can swallow the others, so many that a dangerous balance must be maintained."

He paused and raised his hand to point toward the surrounding shadows:

"Bai Tianxiao is putting on this act; do you think it's just to avenge his son? No. He wants to use this head to establish prestige in Flying Fish City and reshuffle the deck. To tell everyone that the White Dragon Gang is still the same White Dragon Gang, and for those who anger him, there is only a path to death. If we intervene now, no matter who we help, we will immediately become a target and break this fragile balance."

Hong Zhen seemed to half-understand, but seeing his father's solemn face, he still nodded.

Dock Master's gaze once again turned toward the Tower Ship, then swept over the river surface illuminated by the lights but appearing even deeper, finally falling into the boundless darkness in the distance, his voice barely audible:

"Look at that Tower Ship; it's so bright it's dazzling... as if it's afraid people won't know there's an ambush here."

A deep trace of wariness flashed in his eyes.

"But the true killing intent is never in the light; it's in the darkness you cannot see."

"If that Li Feiyu truly dares to come..."

Dock Master didn't finish, but Hong Zhen felt a sudden chill, as if sensing the bloodiness in his father's words.

Time passed bit by bit in the waiting.

Midnight had passed.

The noise on the shore had become somewhat sluggish due to the long wait.

The shouting at the gambling sheds had also died down, and the bookies began to count their chips, preparing to close up.

To most people, that madman named Li Feiyu had likely chickened out and wouldn't come.

Some spectators began to curse the weather and prepare to leave.

Even the Jianghu travelers and leaders of various forces showed a bit of impatience and "as expected" expressions.

"It's over, it's over, there's nothing to see!"

"Pah, I thought there was really someone who wasn't afraid of death, but it turns out he's just a silver-coated lead spearhead!"

"Doesn't even dare to come for twelve-to-one odds? No guts!"

"Let's go, let's go back and sleep; this rain is really damn heavy..."

Just as the noise was fading, the crowd was starting to disperse, and many torches were beginning to flicker as people prepared to leave—

"Hmm?"

A gambler near the riverbank was turning away grumpily when his peripheral vision accidentally caught the river surface downstream.

His movements suddenly froze.

His mouth remained open in a cursing posture, but his eyes suddenly widened, filled with unbelievable shock.

He raised his hand, his finger trembling as he pointed toward that ink-like darkness.

"That... what is that?" His dry voice sounded exceptionally clear in the fading clamor.

Like the first falling domino.

The few people near him looked in the direction he was pointing.

Then, they also froze.

An eerie silence spread rapidly from those few people like a plague.

The noisy discussions, complaints, and sounds of packing things...

Died out piece by piece.

The hundreds and thousands of people on the shore seemed to be choked by an invisible hand.

Only the wailing of the river wind, the pattering of rain hitting the river and the shed roofs, and the crackling of torches struggling to burn in the rain remained.

A heart-palpitating silence enveloped the entire Old Stork Bay.

All the gazes that hadn't had time to move away, all the attention that hadn't completely dissipated, were at this moment forcibly cast in the same direction by an invisible force—

Downstream, in the deep darkness beyond the edge of the lights.

A faint silhouette was slowly emerging from the depths of that darkness.

It was a small boat.

No lanterns, no torches, no light source of any kind; it was entirely black, almost merging with the night and the ink-colored river water.

It appeared so naturally and calmly, as if it were just a piece of driftwood floating down the river.

But no one would mistake it for driftwood.

Because it moved too steadily, too straight.

With unhurried speed, it cut through the curtain of rain, parted the river water, and headed straight for the brilliantly lit, peril-filled Hundred Refinements Workshop Tower Ship in the center of the river.

As if heading to a long-appointed... banquet of death.

On the small boat, there was only one figure.

Alone, standing upright.

He stood at the stern, holding a long oar with one hand, his movements relaxed and steady, as if he weren't sailing into a dragon's den but rather boating under the moon.

The rain soaked his clothes, outlining a silhouette as straight as a pine tree.

In the dim light, his face couldn't be seen clearly; only a calm profile was visible.

No soaring Aura, no intimidating killing intent.

Like an ordinary Fisherman...

Rowing toward them.