Why do I have so many masters?

Liu Wuqiu had died.

That proud and roaring tiger's cry echoed throughout Wangxian County, and at dawn's break, as the silver moon that illuminated the night faded away, the breath within the wooden house slowly disappeared along with it.

His offspring had long scattered to flee for their lives because of their deeds. It was Wang Anfeng and the two others who buried him, in a small village that the old man had murmured about.

The villagers were simple and amiable, with flowers blooming beautifully, paths intersecting, and the sound of chickens and dogs heard in the distance. Yet, if one asked about Mei Chuxue, not a trace that she ever existed could be found—only the oldest villager with white hair vaguely remembered that there once was a young lady with a beautiful smile.

In the graveyard behind the village, Wang Anfeng, Xiahou Xuan, and Huangfu Xiong searched for a long time before finding the grave of Mei Chuxue, overgrown with weeds. The handwriting on it was childlike, but the strong adoration and hatred had not dissipated over sixty-eight years.

They silently cleared the weeds away, borrowed tools, and buried Liu Wuqiu and his cherished folding fan, which he had kept for sixty-eight years, next to her.

"Although the three of us are not officially the disciples of Master Liu, we have indeed received his true legacy. Having acquired his teachings, we shall bury Master Liu with all due respect of a disciple."

Xiahou Xuan stood in front of the grave. He and Huangfu's two guards were kept at a distance; only the three of them stood there. Xiahou Xuan had the best handwriting, reminiscent of dragon and phoenix calligraphy, and on the tombstone, he engraved a line with the Roaming Dragon and Gaze Moon Sword technique.

Then, he, Wang Anfeng, and Huangfu Xiong bowed down together, paying their respects as disciples.

After bowing and standing up, Xiahou Xuan looked at the thin, sickly ghost holding a wooden zither in the distance, and said:

"This time I nearly lost my life; I'm afraid I won't be able to move around Jianghu so easily anymore. Besides, having received the teachings of an Upper Third Rank Grandmaster, I should really focus on cultivation."

Huangfu Xiong smiled, his face still showing that somewhat casual look, and said, "You really should start cultivating... As for me, Xue Shisan has already been captured and taken home, so there's no chance to spar with him anymore. I think it's time to head back. Now I realize how poor my boxing skills are; I'm too ashamed to wander in Jianghu."

"Anfeng, what are your plans? Why don't you come with me to my place? Although it's in the Northern Frontier, the Great Desert's golden sands and the autumn moon with Hu flute music have their own unique charm."

Wang Anfeng smiled and shook his head, saying, "No thank you, Master and Libai are waiting for me."

Xiahou Xuan flicked shut his folding fan and, tapping it on his palm, pointed at Wang Anfeng and laughed, "That's right, you still have a hundred Eighth Rank trees waiting for you." Huangfu Xiong threw back his head, downed a gulp of liquor, and burst into loud laughter, "Hahaha, indeed, indeed, Anfeng, that's not going to be easy to endure!"

Wang Anfeng scratched his head, his face twisted in mock distress, and said, "I don't have a choice." Looking at his two friends, he too began to laugh, and all three shared a hearty laugh. After a moment, Xiahou Xuan's smile faded slightly as he looked at his two good friends and slowly clasped his fists:

"Then, until we meet again in Jianghu..."

Xiahou Xuan tilted his head back and poured the rest of the jug of poorly brewed wine from the village entrance down his throat, feeling its extreme spiciness. The liquor wet his collar, and with a forceful smash, the jug shattered on the ground, his joyous laughter ringing out:

"Until we meet again in Jianghu!"

Wang Anfeng exhaled lightly and nodded with a smile.

"Until we meet again in Jianghu."

In this somewhat remote village, Wang Anfeng watched as Xiahou Xuan rode off on a white horse, and the sickly ghost walked away, truly like a phantom. The brocade-clad man saluted him with a fist, picked up Huangfu Xiong by the back of his collar, stepped into the void, and with the cry of his heavy blade resounding for a long time, both disappeared from sight.

Wang Anfeng watched as they left, then turned back to glance at the tombstone once more.

The Grave of Master Liu Wuqiu.

Disciples Xiahou Xuan, Wang Anfeng, and Huangfu Xiong erected this.

The youth chuckled softly, turned around, and walked away without the slightest hint of attachment.

Jianghu, we shall meet again.

For some reason today, I just feel like having a drink.

Riding on the green-maned horse, with the exotic beast's stride, I swiftly returned to that county city. The city bustled more than usual, people chatted animatedly with each other, spirited and excited, all because of the sudden downfall of Liuxu Villa. The true story, from its beginning and passing through many hands, had already morphed beyond recognition. Wang Anfeng laughed lightly, riding past.

Upon returning to Li Family's Reviving Spring Hall, Feng Lan and Li Kangsheng finally let go of their worries. Since the incident at Liuxu Villa had spread, they had been mired in a mix of self-reproach and anxiety. Feng Lan had shed many tears. Seeing Wang Anfeng unscathed brought joy to her heart, yet she found herself crying again.

Wang Anfeng and Li Kangsheng comforted her dearly, and that night, Li Kangsheng became inebriated once more, yet Wang Anfeng did not touch his cup.

News spread through Jianghu that at the Phoenix Banquet, the long-hidden Jianghu power Four Symbols Pavilion made an appearance. Some said their aim was to leverage these noble clan scions, to blackmail the noble families of Wangxian County, others spoke of using demonic treasures to refine True Qi and bloodlines for profit.

There were rumors that Manor Master Liu Wuqiu of Liuxu Villa, that greedy, lustful, and timid soul, was Four Symbols Pavilion's inside man. Later, a noble clan youth who made such claims was whipped by the furious General Longxiang, Xu Ziyang, in front of the Prefectural Governor. Lashed by a bamboo whip till his flesh split open, he fainted multiple times.

At that moment, General Xu still wore his white robe, his usual simplicity seeming even more pristine, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

Three days later, Wang Anfeng had mastered the basics of the Taisu Needle. He bid farewell to Uncle Li and his wife, took the Roaming Dragon and Gaze Moon Sword with him, and with ten silver coins left, he gave the remaining funds to the Li Family pharmacy to aid their good deeds.

Out of those ten silver coins, he took five and invited Zhang Zhengyang and Zhao Daniu of the Iron Guards to indulge in the largest and finest tavern in the county city.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

With the remaining five silver coins, he bought some items at the city market, got a jug of fine wine for Libo, packed away the garments given to him by Xue Qinshuang, and, donning his own short jacket, he led the green-maned horse out of the city alone.

Approaching the city gate, two tall soldiers made their way through the crowd and posted a yellow paper at the gate. The crowd pressed forward to see, but Wang Anfeng only minded his own path. It was only when he heard the name Liu Wuqiu that he stopped and turned back to look, and by then the soldiers were already inside, loudly repeating:

"Liu Wuqiu of Liuxu Villa, with a single fist, reached the Upper Third Rank of Martial Arts, killed the Sect Leader of Four Symbols Pavilion, and slew a Grandmaster in battle. At that moment, he shook the heavens, a tiger's roar resounded through Wangxian County. Clouds surged like dragons, visible for a thousand li.

We honor him as an elder, not to be lightly disrespected, henceforth to be referred to by his honorary title."

"He is 'The Tiger of Wangxian'!"

Wang Anfeng's eyes shone as he listened to the gasps and praises around him. Left, they said, Grandmaster, right, elder, but in his mind, he pictured the white-haired old man at Liuxu Villa, gently waving his folding fan.

He said he had no regrets.

The crowd moved forward like a tide, while one person walked slowly against it. The youth in the blue short jacket broke free from the crowd, mounted the green-maned horse, his waist now adorned with Xue Qinshuang's dagger, with Uncle Li's sugar cakes in his pack, and with good wine for Libo. He tossed the reins lightly, and the green-maned horse neighed, stretching its long legs to gallop away.

The wind whistled as the young man rode past the county city, the cold tea shop, the ferry point, and the now desolate villa. He seemed to have changed a little yet not at all. As the evening drew near, he could see the familiar smoke from cooking fires in the distance. His eyes bright, the youth laughed aloud.

"I've come back!"

(End of this volume)