Chapter Twenty: Blade Name—Black Cloud

The ancient sages once said: If a man has no long-term worries, he will surely have immediate concerns.

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Blood Wolf Bandits.

The county constable’s clan brother.

The One-Horned Wolf Pack.

The Hall of Universal Benevolence recruiting a large number of apprentices.

And, of course, the ever-present Nangong Wentian, who still had not left.

As for all these matters, Yang Fan hadn’t given them much thought.

There was also another person, Han Li. He recognized him but had never interacted with him. Under his sensory perception, Yang Fan observed him for a while.

This young man appeared quite ordinary, probably sixteen or seventeen years old, but his eyes were bright, frequently glancing in this direction—especially at him.

“Why is he watching me?”

Yang Fan’s brow twitched.

The other’s vitality was robust, his life force vigorous—far stronger than Yang Tian, whom he had killed, but clearly he hadn’t yet become a martial artist.

Likely from a good family, well-fed, and probably had already begun training.

But that was hardly remarkable.

When Yang Fan inquired, Da Hu shook his head. “I honestly don’t know much about him. I’ll try to find out more later.”

Yang Fan, feeling a stir in his heart, turned to look at Han Li, who just then glanced over and quickly offered him a friendly smile.

Then, bowl in hand, Han Li came to sit with them.

“Yang Fan, hope I’m not disturbing you!” Han Li sat down directly, smiling amiably. “We’re all apprentices of the same intake, yet you’ve left us far behind. It humbles us.”

“It’s just a matter of talent and hard work,” Yang Fan replied with a smile. “I heard from Da Hu that you know some secrets about the town?”

“Not really. Just a feeling that something is off,” Han Li said in a low, grave tone. “Even in a large town near the mountains, so many incidents shouldn’t happen. Yang Tai’s restaurant, the Liu family staking a claim and building a manor yet wanting more land, the Blood Wolf Bandits—experts at hiding—suddenly exposing their tracks, the One-Horned Wolf Pack, which should dwell deep in the mountains, venturing out, and then our Hall of Universal Benevolence’s Young Master Nangong lingering here. All of it points to one thing: Something big is about to happen in this town.”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

Yang Fan’s eyes flickered.

He was increasingly certain this young man was no ordinary individual.

Who else could connect all these dots?

What’s more, having only just arrived, Han Li already knew about Yang Tai and Liu Kaiming’s backgrounds.

He even knew the Blood Wolf Bandits were converging here. That was a little too much.

“He had Da Hu pass a message, and now he’s pointing things out to my face. Clearly, his aim is me—but why?”

Yang Fan couldn’t fathom it.

When he killed Yang Tian and the other, he was sure no one was around.

No one knew of his actions last night, either.

Strange.

A thousand thoughts spun through his mind. Yang Fan smiled and said, “Brother Han, you must come from an extraordinary family!”

“Hardly. Really, it’s quite ordinary. Otherwise, why would I be here as an apprentice?” Han Li waved his hand, a bashful look appearing on his face.

Yang Fan let the matter drop.

They chatted a bit more about the happenings in the town, finished their meal, and went their separate ways.

“I’m starting to think that guy’s odd, too,” Da Hu said, walking with Yang Fan toward the pharmacy. “He speaks in a refined way, his logic is clear, and he knows more about the town than I do. No way—I need to dig a bit, find out who he is and what his purpose is.”

With that, he turned and left.

Yang Fan didn’t give it much thought.

Back in the pharmacy, he continued his studies.

Identifying processed medicinal herbs was truly no challenge for him.

In the afternoon, Han Li came by. “It’s always so peaceful here. I envy that.”

“Soon enough, you’ll be here too,” Yang Fan replied with a smile. “It’s all just memorization, nothing too hard.”

“Ah, but memorization is what gives me the biggest headache,” Han Li sighed, leaning in. “Yang Fan, did you hear about the major incident in town today?”

“A major incident?” Yang Fan was taken aback. “What happened?”

“Nanshan Town is only twenty kilometers from the county seat. News from last night traveled quickly. By noon, the county constable arrived with his officers and a detachment of city guards. They surrounded Taifeng Restaurant,” Han Li said with a grin. “Now there’s going to be a real spectacle.”

“The constable himself? What, is he going to kill Yang Tai?” Yang Fan wasn’t too surprised.

After all, his own clan brother had been killed.

It was a slap in the face. If he didn’t retaliate, how could he maintain his dignity or authority?

“He just might. I hear the constable already has an excuse—accusing the Yang family of colluding with the Blood Wolf Bandits to massacre the townsfolk, plotting to slaughter Nanshan Town and attack the county seat,” Han Li said, his expression odd.

“A fine excuse!” Yang Fan couldn’t help but give a thumbs up after a long pause. “The law is whatever the authorities say it is.”

“If they say you’re guilty, you’re guilty!” Han Li picked up the thought.

They exchanged glances and both sighed.

“He surrounds the place but doesn’t attack. What do you think, does the constable have another motive?” Han Li asked, probing.

Yang Fan’s eyes glimmered. He blinked. “Could he be targeting the Yang family in the city as well?”

“As expected of the brightest among us!” Han Li clapped. “The Yang family is powerful, but they’ve always looked down on the constable, leading to constant friction and rivalry. Now that the constable’s here in person, surrounding the place but not attacking, I bet he’s waiting for the Yang family to come to the rescue, and then—”

He clapped his hands together.

“Intercept them on the way and wipe them out,” Yang Fan finished.

“Eighteen out of twenty chances!” Han Li nodded, then took his leave.

Yang Fan, however, frowned deeply.

A clever man—and his information arrived too quickly.

He even knew the past grievances between the constable and the Yang family.

Clearly, Han Li’s background was anything but simple.

“Why is he testing me?”

That was what puzzled him.

From all Han Li had said, Yang Fan guessed he was trying to gauge his character.

“Youthful and impatient, lacking in subtlety—this kind of probing is far too clumsy and raw.”

Best not to set your sights on me.

Yang Fan pushed the thought down and returned to his studies.

After supper, Da Hu had already latched onto Han Li, and the two went out for a stroll.

Yang Fan returned home alone. He made his way to the town blacksmith’s shop.

“Uncle Hammer, do you have a knife ready-made?”

“Little Fan, what do you need a knife for?” Uncle Hammer was brawny to the extreme, his torso bare, muscles knotted, bronzed skin glistening with sweat. He set down his hammer and said, “You’re not planning to get into trouble, are you?”

“Uncle Hammer, it’s just with so much going on in town lately, I’d like to buy a knife for self-defense—and maybe try learning some knife techniques,” Yang Fan explained. “A broadsword style—solid, durable, sharp.”

“You’re picky! But a good knife might be beyond your means. I’ll find you an ordinary one for practice.”

“Uncle Hammer, don’t underestimate me! My father left me a hundred taels of silver.” As he spoke, Yang Fan produced a prepared silver note and slapped it down on the table with bravado. “A hundred taels!”

“Are you ordering food? A hundred taels, really! Little Fan, you’re still young—don’t waste money. Besides daily expenses, you’ll need to marry someday. You haven’t even trained with a blade—what use is a good one? Don’t be foolish!”

“Uncle Hammer, there’s a first time for everything. Besides, I’m an apprentice at the Hall of Universal Benevolence now. I won’t be short of money in the future.”

“You’re a stubborn one. A hundred taels? My humble shop has only one blade worth that much—passed down by my grandfather, the treasure of the shop. I’d rather not part with it.” Uncle Hammer stopped trying to dissuade him, heading to the back, calling over his shoulder, “Remember, if you regret it, bring the blade back and I’ll return your money.”

A moment later, he brought out a knife and tossed it over.

Yang Fan caught it steadily.

The knife was weighty.

He drew it from its sheath: the blade was straight, the metal a deep black, the edge shining silver.

He flicked it with his finger. It rang, humming.

“A fine blade!” Yang Fan praised. “Uncle Hammer, I’ll take this one.”

“You’ve got a good eye. Remember, if you have second thoughts, bring it back—just don’t lose it,” Uncle Hammer said, though he looked pained.

“Don’t worry, Uncle Hammer. I’ll treasure it like a little jewel!”

“A little jewel? You silly boy, get out of here!” Uncle Hammer waved a hand, then added, “The town’s not safe these days. Don’t wander or cause trouble.”

“Got it!”

Yang Fan took his leave.

At home, Yang Fan bolted the courtyard gate, drew the long knife, and examined it closely.

The blade was jet-black, with cloud patterns etched into it.

He gave it a firm flick; the blade sang like a dragon’s call.

“Uncle Hammer is honest and family to boot—this knife can’t be anything less than excellent. From now on, I’ll call it Black Cloud.”

Black Cloud Blade.

Swish—

He spun on his heel, the long blade slicing through the air, cleaving it in two.