Chapter Twenty-Six: Hua Banxia Destroys the Straw Golem, Gaining Renown as She Pursues the Star-Handed One’s Wound

A slow-moving ox cart emerged from the direction of the celadon pottery shop, but when it reached Mushan Street, the driver brought it to a halt. In the darkness, more than a dozen constables with broadswords strapped to their waists blocked the way.

“The Six Gates are handling official business ahead. All unrelated persons, turn back at once,” barked Zhang Tianlan, the seasoned leader of the constables, casting only a cursory glance at the ox cart.

The wheel ruts were shallow, draped in colored silk, as if the passenger were someone out seeking pleasure.

The driver, smiling obsequiously, inquired, “Sirs, is there some trouble ahead?”

Zhang Tianlan’s tone grew stern and displeased. “Don’t ask what you shouldn’t know.”

Turkic people entering the city was no small matter; if mismanaged, it could plunge the capital into a bloody storm.

“Be on your way,” Zhang Tianlan said, patting the driver’s shoulder.

The driver nodded repeatedly, calling to his ox and preparing to leave. Yet the usually docile old ox refused to budge.

Zhang Tianlan’s instincts told him something was wrong. He signaled his men, and in perfect unison, the constables surrounded the ox cart.

Broadswords gripped tightly, Zhang Tianlan shouted, “Come out!”

There was no response from within. Cautiously, Zhang Tianlan edged closer, reaching out to lift the curtain.

Suddenly, a large hand shot out from the ox cart, fast as lightning, clamping down on Zhang Tianlan’s arm.

...

The thirteenth year of Jian’an, the fifteenth day of the eighth month. Tian Si Emporium, Shiliu Alley.

It was just past nightfall.

Qi Jingmo repelled two more puppet fiends, black-gold gauntlets now dusted with straw. “What on earth are these wretched things? They never tire,” he grumbled inwardly. Half a stick of incense had passed; the puppet fiends clung to him like undying cockroaches.

In truth, the puppets weren’t very powerful—together, they barely equaled an eighth-grade cultivator. But Qi Jingmo’s iron fists, though wrapped in steel, failed to inflict the slightest harm.

Watching Qi Jingmo, the famed Pursuer, locked in combat with the fiends, Jiang Wanyi smiled and turned to Hua Banxia. “Aren’t you going to help? Time’s running short.”

Hua Banxia, the Smoker, frowned slightly. “Why don’t you?”

Jiang Wanyi met her gaze, her answer ambiguous. “What do you think?”

Hua Banxia snorted, then called to Qi Jingmo, “Hold them off—I know how to finish them.”

Qi Jingmo nodded and launched his “Flood Dragon Dives into the Sea,” both iron hands plunging into the puppets’ chests, forcing them back into a corner.

“Now!” Hua Banxia’s eyes flashed coldly. From her white jade pipe, she flicked two glowing embers, red as falling stars. With a flick of her slender fingers, the sparks shot forth and struck the puppet fiends dead on.

In an instant, flames roared up, engulfing the straw bodies.

Qi Jingmo withdrew, the rising fire singeing his temples. “Watch it!” he snapped.

Hua Banxia, unable to suppress a sly smile at his disheveled state, replied, “Fire and water spare no one.”

As the straw puppets burned, an eerie thing occurred: bloodcurdling screams echoed in the ears of Jiang Wanyi, Hua Banxia, and Qi Jingmo.

“What’s happening?” Qi Jingmo asked, staring at the puppets about to be reduced to cinders.

Hua Banxia shook her head. Both turned to Jiang Wanyi, Yellow Grade Third Rank Demon Suppressor of the Demon Suppression Bureau.

“They’re soul-forged puppets,” Jiang Wanyi muttered, lowering her voice as she gazed at the blackened remains. “I underestimated her.”

Qi Jingmo and Hua Banxia exchanged a look, about to ask what soul-forged puppets were.

“No time to explain. Break the door,” Jiang Wanyi ordered, all seriousness.

“Got it.”

Tasks requiring brute strength naturally fell to the men. Qi Jingmo gave a shout and stepped forward.

Suddenly, two puppet fiends crashed through the wooden planks barring the entrance, moving with ghostly speed. Without pause, they threw fists at Qi Jingmo from either side.

“Bold!” Qi Jingmo roared, surging forward rather than retreating, his iron fists clad in black-gold gauntlets meeting the attack head-on.

Clang.

With a muffled thud, both sides staggered back.

“Not straw!” Qi Jingmo cursed inwardly. His protected hands were unharmed, but the force sent tremors through his arms, leaving them secretly injured.

“They’re bronze puppets,” Hua Banxia observed keenly, spotting the metallic sheen beneath the puppets’ tattered clothes.

Jiang Wanyi regarded the fiends with calm amusement. “To greet guests with such things—rather perfunctory, don’t you think?”

...

“A surprise visit—hardly the time for courtesy,” came a sultry voice, one that would send shivers down an ordinary man’s spine.

At the emporium’s entrance, Second Sister Qin now wore a pale green gown, her proud figure on full display.

“To Jian’an, it’s you Turks who are the uninvited guests,” Hua Banxia retorted with a sneer.

“My dear, such temper will ruin your looks,” Second Sister Qin laughed, her gaze drifting to Hua Banxia’s chest.

Hua Banxia flushed with annoyance. “So what if you’ve two more ounces of flesh than most? Flaunting yourself shamelessly.”

Truth be told, Hua Banxia’s own figure was fine—well proportioned, only a little lean from years of martial training. It was just that Second Sister Qin’s allure was rather overwhelming.

“We should focus on finding Su Jin,” Jiang Wanyi interjected. She had no fear of a wider conflict; after all, her own figure was not inferior.

Hua Banxia stifled her anger and said nothing more, gripping her white jade pipe as she launched herself at Second Sister Qin.

Anticipating this, Second Sister Qin retreated, and her two puppet fiends immediately flanked Hua Banxia.

Hua Banxia was no weakling—like Qi Jingmo, she was a third-rank martial artist. Her pipe, hard as jade, rang out as it struck the puppets.

The battle quickened, every blow a lethal one.

“I’ll help you!” Qi Jingmo, worried for Hua Banxia, ignored his own injuries and charged in with his iron fists.

As fellow renowned captains of the Six Gates, the two moved with practiced coordination, quickly forcing the puppets back. Yet they could do no more—their blows caused the fiends no harm.

“Fall back,” Jiang Wanyi commanded.

Hua Banxia rapped one puppet on the head with her pipe while Qi Jingmo drove the other away. Then both retreated to Jiang Wanyi’s side.

“We’ve not seen the Turkic Wolf Guards since entering. I suspect you’ve bound their souls to your puppets,” Jiang Wanyi said, eyeing the fiends.

Second Sister Qin did not deny it. “Wolf Guards are the Khan’s most loyal. To come to Jian’an is to accept death.”

“A pitiable fate,” she added with a bitter smile.

For some reason, Jiang Wanyi and her companions caught a fleeting trace of sorrow in her eyes.

“Midnight approaches,” Jiang Wanyi suddenly remarked.