Chapter 14 | Powering Up by Meddling in Other People's Business

Those three arrived incredibly fast.

One moment they were at the far end of the long street, and the next they were at the tavern door.

Their appearances were also exceptionally strange.

One was as short and stout as a water vat, another was as tall and thin as a bamboo pole.

The one in the middle was draped in a dark cloak, their entire body shrouded in shadows, making even their face impossible to see clearly.

The three pushed aside the curtain and entered, bringing with them a thick gust of wind and frost.

The fire in the hall’s hearth instantly dimmed.

Shopkeeper Zhou had seen countless people in his time, and with a single glance, he knew these newcomers were trouble.

He forced a smile and hurried forward.

“Honored guests, a meal or a room?”

The short, stout man spoke, his voice sounding like a castrato—shrill and thin.

“Neither. We are here to find someone.”

“Find someone?”

Shopkeeper Zhou felt a chill in his heart, but the smile on his face didn’t waver in the slightest.

“May I ask who you are looking for? Guests have been sparse these past few days, and I remember everyone who comes and goes. I will tell you everything I know truthfully.”

The tall, thin man pulled a scroll from his sleeve and slowly unfurled it before Shopkeeper Zhou.

The person in the painting looked to be in their early twenties, with delicate features and an air of playfulness and profligacy between their brows.

Shopkeeper Zhou recognized him instantly.

The person in the painting was clearly the frail beggar he had just seen off.

However, his expression remained as calm as still water. He squinted and leaned in to examine it for a moment, then stroked his beard and shook his head gently.

“This... forgive my poor eyesight, but I have never seen this person.”

The tall, thin man narrowed his bead-like eyes, and a sharp glint flashed within them, sending a shiver down one's spine.

“Shopkeeper, perhaps you should think a bit more carefully.”

Shopkeeper Zhou pretended to look at it twice more before shaking his head again.

“I truly haven’t seen him. I’m afraid you three have come to the wrong place.”

At that moment, the figure in the center, cloaked in dark fabric, finally moved.

A hand reached out from beneath the cloak.

Resting quietly in the palm was an object.

It was a black token about the size of a palm and as thin as a cicada's wing.

Carved upon it was a massive, half-open Ghost Gate, with countless hideous ghostly hands reaching out from the crack.

Then, the person flipped their wrist to reveal the back of the token.

Two characters, "Abstinence," were etched in a vermilion color that resembled drops of blood.

Upon seeing this object, the fawning, flattering smile on Shopkeeper Zhou’s face vanished like a receding tide.

In its place was a sense of indifference that was completely inconsistent with his status as a merchant.

“An Afterlife Token,” Shopkeeper Zhou said calmly. “My small temple has received distinguished guests today.”

An Afterlife Token.

This was the sign of the most mysterious and terrifying assassin organization in the martial world: the Ghost Gate Chamber.

As the saying went, “When the Ghost Gate opens, the Afterlife Token appears.”

People of the martial world avoided this object like the plague.

If any ordinary shopkeeper had seen this, they would have been scared out of their wits.

However, Shopkeeper Zhou was not.

He paused, then raised his sleeve in a gesture of invitation.

“Since you three have come with the token, I presume you aren't here for wine. The private rooms upstairs are quiet. Please follow me.”

The three exchanged a look.

The short and tall men looked suspicious, but the cloaked figure tucked the Afterlife Token back into their sleeve and gave a barely perceptible nod.

The four went upstairs and entered the innermost private room.

Shopkeeper Zhou closed the doors and windows tightly and personally poured three cups of hot tea for them before taking a seat.

In every gesture, there wasn't a trace of the diligent, flattering businessman from before.

He was clearly an old veteran of the Jianghu who had seen great things.

The short man spoke up. “Zhizhou Tower truly lives up to its name, even having eyes and ears buried in such a desolate wilderness.”

“Since you know my identity, you three should also know that your status as Ghost Gate Chamber assassins doesn't intimidate me,” Shopkeeper Zhou interrupted, taking a sip of tea with a leisurely tone.

The three remained silent.

Shopkeeper Zhou set down his tea cup and smiled slightly.

“However, while I do not fear you three, I also have no desire to invite trouble for no reason. The person you are looking for was indeed here last night.”

A glint appeared in the short man’s eyes. “Can you elaborate?”

Shopkeeper Zhou then told them the essential details of what happened the previous night.

“Is the youth dressed as a frail beggar this person?”

The tall man unfurled the portrait once again.

Shopkeeper Zhou glanced at it, neither confirming nor denying it, and simply said a single sentence.

“The artistry is good; it’s about seventy or eighty percent similar.”

“Where did they go?”

Shopkeeper Zhou picked up his tea cup and unhurriedly took another sip before spitting out two words.

“North.”

“Luoyan City?”

“Past Luoyan City is the territory of Grand Shuo. I imagine that must be the case.”

The three exchanged glances, certain that Shopkeeper Zhou was telling the truth.

“In that case, we shall take our leave.”

The low, raspy voice sounded once more from beneath the cloak.

With those words, the three quickly rose and, without saying another word to Shopkeeper Zhou, pushed aside the curtain and left.

“Safe travels.”

Shopkeeper Zhou remained seated, having no intention of even getting up to see them off.

Only after the presence of those three had completely vanished from the tavern did Shopkeeper Zhou slowly stand up and pace to the window. He looked out at the vast white world, his brow furrowing slightly.

He pulled an inconspicuous small bamboo plaque from his sleeve and slowly rubbed it between his fingers.

A single bamboo leaf was carved onto this plaque.

The bamboo leaf was a vibrant, dripping green, seemingly preserved within the bamboo through some special method, refusing to fade despite the passage of years.

Cuiwei Dwelling.

This name was rarely heard in the martial world nowadays.

But thirty years ago, Cuiwei Dwelling was the most famous information shop in the world, spread across the cities and towns of both dynasties.

It was said to be "all-seeing and all-knowing."

However, after the great war between Grand Zhao and Grand Shuo, Cuiwei Dwelling suddenly vanished, seemingly evaporating from the world overnight.

Only a very few people knew that Cuiwei Dwelling had never disappeared.

It had simply transformed into what was now known as Zhizhou Tower.

And today’s Zhizhou Tower claimed to be “all-knowing of all things to aid the world.”

From that ambition alone, one could imagine that its strength far exceeded its predecessor, Cuiwei Dwelling.

In every corner of the two worlds, every insignificant character could potentially be an eye or ear planted by Zhizhou Tower.

And Shopkeeper Zhou was one of them.

He had come to this place and hidden in this Wangbei Tower as a shopkeeper for over ten years.

He had long since come to see himself as an ordinary shopkeeper.

He only wanted to spend his remaining years here in peace.

As for returning to his ancestral home to be buried, he had long since stopped hoping for that.

Shopkeeper Zhou tucked the bamboo plaque back into his sleeve and sighed.

“You three, don’t blame me for being afraid to die.”

...

At the same time.

Chen Zui and the other two had left Wangbei Tower and were heading north.

The snow had begun to fall again at some point, fine and dense like sifted chaff, landing on their collars and refusing to melt for a long time.

The further north they went, the sparser the population became. The withered trees on both sides of the road were left with only bare branches, stabbing straight into the sky.

An occasional cold crow would fly past, its cry sounding even more shrill and mournful over the open plains.

Xiao Chengyan huddled on that mottled horse, tightly clutching the blue cloth bundle Shopkeeper Zhou had given him to his chest.

His ragged clothes had been changed back at Wangbei Tower.

Now he wore a cotton robe prepared by Shopkeeper Zhou. Although it was two sizes too large, it was warm enough after he rolled up the sleeves a few times.