Chapter Nine: Yang Zaixing

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Zhang Xuan had been preparing ever since the man across from him approached. With a deft dodge, he avoided the slash of the blade and rolled toward the other corpses, suppressing the urge to vomit as he picked up a spear.

“With a spear in hand, the world is mine. Come on, shameless one—bullying the weak, truly disgraceful.” Zhang Xuan taunted as he swung the spear and advanced.

While Zhang Xuan was locked in combat, the three men who had earlier been surrounded whispered among themselves.

“Uncle Yang, what do we do now?” one of them asked.

Uncle Yang withdrew his gaze from Zhang Xuan and looked at the others. “This is our chance. Rest for a moment and regain your strength. One of them is already tied up, which leaves four. Yang Hu, you and I will hold off three of them, including Yang Kai. Young master, you take on one. Yang Kai and his men are exhausted and recovering as well. Watch for my signal,” he instructed.

Both the young master and Yang Hu nodded.

The man fighting Zhang Xuan sneered, “You have some skill, but not enough. Watch this!” He knew he couldn’t drag this out—he’d already spent too much energy. If he didn’t finish off this kid soon, exhaustion would overwhelm him.

Zhang Xuan, however, was in no hurry. He’d watched their earlier battle and knew everyone was trying to recover. The longer things dragged on, the more tired his opponent would become, and victory would eventually be his.

Suddenly, the man launched a flurry of attacks. Zhang Xuan felt his arms go numb after parrying several blows, so he switched to evasion. If he couldn’t win head-on, he could at least dodge.

“Boy, stop dodging! What kind of hero hides and runs? Fight me like a man!” the attacker shouted.

“Are you stupid? I’m just a kid. Only a fool would take you head-on. I’m no fool. Keep going! Weren’t you supposed to be tough?” Zhang Xuan retorted, using words to further unsettle his opponent.

Just then, Uncle Yang signaled to strike.

In an instant, Uncle Yang and his two companions pounced on Yang Kai’s group, catching them off guard as they watched the ongoing duel. One of them was quickly killed by Uncle Yang and Yang Hu working together.

A second battle erupted—three against three—and the tide turned far better than expected.

Zhang Xuan, keeping an eye on this, realized it was time to finish things or he’d lose his chance to benefit from the chaos.

Suddenly, he shifted from defense to offense, launching a fierce assault. Against a knife, a spear’s length is an advantage—a longer reach means greater strength, especially on the attack.

Though Zhang Xuan had only learned basic spear techniques from Old Master Tong, it was more than enough for this opponent.

The man was caught off guard by Zhang Xuan’s sudden aggression. Seeing that his allies were now fighting and one had already been killed, panic flickered across his face.

Zhang Xuan seized the moment. With a precise thrust, he targeted the man’s right wrist.

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The man failed to dodge and was struck. His blade clattered to the ground.

Zhang Xuan wasted no time. With a swift withdrawal and thrust, he drove the spear straight into the man’s throat—a clean kill.

Blood spurted onto Zhang Xuan’s face as he pulled back the spear.

“So this is what it feels like to kill someone?” Zhang Xuan stood stunned, the spear dropping from his hands.

Fortunately, the second battlefield was raging, and no one paid him any mind. Otherwise, he’d be little more than a lamb waiting for slaughter.

Uncle Yang noticed that Zhang Xuan had finished his fight and called out, “Well done, young man!”

He then turned to the embattled Yang Kai, laughing heartily. “Yang Kai, looks like your chances are gone today!”

Realizing the dire situation, Yang Kai and his two men regrouped. “Manager Yang, what now?”

Yang Kai glared at Uncle Yang and then at the dazed Zhang Xuan. “Don’t think you’re lucky just because you ran into a foolish kid this time. We’ll see who laughs last—let’s go!”

As Zhang Xuan shook off the shock of killing, he heard the trio planning their retreat.

“Since you came, you might as well stay. When I arrived, you were all ready to kill me. Now, seeing the situation turn against you, you want to leave? Things aren’t that simple,” Zhang Xuan said.

“Don’t push your luck, boy. You can’t stop us,” one of them retorted.

“Gentlemen, lend me a hand. Let’s make sure none of them escape—can’t leave future trouble behind. If you won’t help, that’s fine; I’d like to see how far my skills have come. That last guy was just a warm up.”

Uncle Yang and his companions exchanged glances, nodded, and charged forward.

Zhang Xuan picked up his spear and joined in. Uncle Yang went after Yang Kai, Yang Hu targeted another enemy, while the young master and Zhang Xuan teamed up two against one.

Zhang Xuan and the young master quickly dispatched their opponent, then rushed to help the others.

A four-against-three fight left little suspense—the outcome was swift and absolute.

With Yang Kai and his men killed, Zhang Xuan could no longer suppress his nausea. He stumbled aside and vomited.

Meanwhile, Yang Hu glanced at Uncle Yang, silently asking what to do next. Uncle Yang shook his head. The young master approached Zhang Xuan, gently patting his back.

“First time killing someone? Me too. Though I used to watch executions out of curiosity. The first time was rough, but after a few trips to the frontier and seeing the horrors the barbarians inflicted on the people, all this seemed like child’s play.”

Whether the young man spoke truth or not was impossible to say. Zhang Xuan wiped his mouth and managed a wry smile.

“It’s nothing. I’m just a little queasy. I’ve killed fish, chickens, animals—never felt much. But this is my first time killing a man. It just feels strange. Maybe I’m not used to it, as you said…”

At that moment, Uncle Yang and Yang Hu walked over.

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“Young man, you’re not old, but your skills are impressive—especially your spear technique. Where did you learn it?” Uncle Yang inquired.

By now, Zhang Xuan had recovered his composure and understood the question.

“I’m just training with an old master right now, practicing the basics. You say my technique is solid? Don’t tease me—I’m young, not naïve! My master always says my basics need five or ten more years’ work before I’m taught real spear techniques. Forget it—talking about it just makes me want to cry,” he replied.

The three men exchanged glances, inwardly skeptical. If these were only the basics, what would count as true skill?

Uncle Yang didn’t press the matter and moved on. “Where are you from, young man? Where are you headed? Perhaps we’re going the same way.”

“I came from the frontier. My village was destroyed by the barbarians—I have nowhere to go. Just as I was desperate, an old master passed by, saw my potential for martial arts, and took me with him. I don’t really know where I’m headed next. I just went out for a walk tonight and ran into you,” Zhang Xuan answered openly.

Still so inexperienced, they thought.

But as he spoke, a thought struck Zhang Xuan. “Just so you know, don’t even think about killing me to silence me. I don’t care about your spear techniques. I’m just learning what Old Master Tong teaches me. I didn’t even plan to get involved—I was just going to watch. But this young man struck me as decent, especially since you were all prepared to sacrifice yourselves for him, and he insisted on staying to live or die with you. I guess I just acted on impulse. Anyway, it all worked out in the end.”

“You think too much,” Uncle Yang replied quickly. “We’re not the kind to repay kindness with enmity. We owe you a debt of gratitude and won’t forget it. May I ask your name?”

“Me? Call me Zhang Xuan—I don’t have a courtesy name yet. What about you?” Zhang Xuan felt an odd kinship with the young man, as if they were cut from the same cloth, though he wasn’t sure why. Not that he was interested in men, he thought wryly.

The young man glanced at Uncle Yang. “My name is Yang Zaixing. Call me Brother Yang, or Yang the elder if you wish—I’m a few years older than you.”

Wait—Yang Zaixing? Could it be the famous Yang Zaixing of Xiao Shanghe? But wasn’t he from the Song dynasty? Is it just a coincidence in names, or has my time-travel disrupted history?

Zhang Xuan stared at Yang Zaixing in shock, lost in thought.