In the present era, moral standards have deteriorated.
Leaning against the stone carving in the ancestral hall, Li Kong’er coldly watched the villagers bickering and complaining, feeling unusually irritated.
Though his name was Li Kong’er, he wasn’t the foolish Jianghu master thief Li Kong’er who had flaunted himself in front of the charming Chi Can’nu, only to meet his demise in the end due to a plot involving Chi Can’nu and her adulterous lover.
That unfortunate fellow was his senior, and in their Empty Sky Sect, it was a tradition that every successive generation took the name Li Kong’er.
Few in the Jianghu used their real names, for it made them susceptible to government warrants and also risked implicating their same-surnamed relatives.
Moreover, in the ever-changing Jianghu landscape where new talents emerged every three years, even the most famous deeds would soon become history. How could small sects and schools hope to thrive? It was better to have a long-standing figure consistently use the same name to navigate the Jianghu. This way, their reputation remained steady, and a name established in the Jianghu could last for generations.
Thus, the Jianghu was filled with prominent “characters,” but their legendary exploits might not always be the deeds of the person currently using the name.
For well-organized sects, it was relatively easier to trace their generational lineage, but for those hidden in the shadows, it was much more challenging.
Take the Empty Sky Sect, for example. The theft of the Jade Guanyin from the Ning Wang’s Mansion ten years ago and the theft of the Golden Silk Armor from the Jiangnan Eight Yun Hall three years ago—were these both the work of the same “Li Kong’er”? Even the Jianghu experts couldn’t be certain.
The Empty Sky Sect harbored another secret unknown to outsiders: there was often more than one successor in each generation.
Think about it, this master thief Li Kong’er was committing a robbery in Jiangnan yesterday, yet appeared in Yanzhou three days later! The modus operandi was the same, the martial arts style was the same, and the concealed weapons used were remarkably similar! Was this not incredibly mysterious?
Of course, some suspected that one of these cases might have been an imitation by someone else.
But the problem lay in determining who the real Li Kong’er was. For those in the Empty Sky Sect, anyone could be, and no one could be, the genuine Li Kong’er. It was simply impossible to judge.
As a result, with so much uncertainty, the Jianghu buzzed with speculation.
This was the ordinary survival method recognized by the Jianghu: without renown, what’s the point of being here!
The pursuit was to become famous and make a name for oneself, just as Jianghu people aspired to do.
In truth, having higher martial prowess doesn’t necessarily ensure a longer life. Martial skill is indeed a crucial survival factor for those in Jianghu, but even with exceptional martial abilities, poor luck might lead a courier from a caravan to an untimely death.
Moreover, the higher one’s martial skill, the greater the potential for encountering formidable troubles, which are inherent risks.
As for the gentlemen in the business of thieving, it’s not inherently dangerous; it mostly depends on what’s stolen.
If what’s stolen is problematic, it can spell disaster.
“Li Kong’er” was burdened by his reputation, persistently cultivating the title of “Jianghu’s Number One Master Thief.” Naturally, he had to pull off significant feats to maintain this reputation. After all, how could an accomplished master thief showcase their skills by stealing mundane items?
The former head of the Jiangnan Eight Yun Hall was once a martial arts alliance leader. Upon his passing, the prestige and power of the Eight Yun Hall diminished. Choosing to strike during the funeral of the old hall master provided a ripe opportunity. Many attending the ceremony were merely there for show, and infiltrating was relatively easy.
Seizing this soft target, Li Kong’er’s reputation as a master thief would reverberate throughout the Jianghu for years to come.
Whenever the old hall master’s name was mentioned, the conversation would inevitably steer towards the stolen treasures of the Eight Yun Hall. These treasures included the weapons the old hall master had wielded during his dominance of the Jianghu, tokens of his romantic entanglements, and even cursed symbols of the evil cults he had eradicated.
Li Kong’er’s audacious action was shameless, but it was remarkably effective.
—By exploiting a dead person’s fame, as long as that deceased individual was sufficiently renowned, there was no need to worry about one’s own lack of recognition.
Li Kong’er had borrowed a trick from assassins, those shadowy figures who, like him, remained unseen.
Even if the entire Jianghu spat condemnation at them, what did it matter? Did he expect to be recognized as the master thief Li Kong’er during his everyday activities or while participating in martial arts gatherings? It was utterly improbable!
Yet, an unexpected twist occurred. Among the stolen items was a piece of Golden Silk Armor. Driven by a sudden impulse, he showed it off to his lover and, in doing so, sealed his own fate.
His death was so dramatic that even his junior, his master’s other disciple, was exasperated.
His senior’s death might have solved many problems, but the brand of the master thief Li Kong’er had been tarnished! What were they, the Empty Sky Sect, to do?
This Li Kong’er was not content with his fate. He earnestly investigated the matter and discovered anomalies that led to the truth. The trail eventually led to the Cangfeng Sect. Realizing this, he came up with a plan: if he could recover the Golden Silk Armor, the problem might be resolved!
The master thief Li Kong’er faked his own death! It was all a ruse to investigate the mastermind behind the scenes – the hidden puppeteer!
With this intent, he abandoned his “master thief” identity entirely over the past three years. Leveraging his exceptional lightness techniques and clever escape skills, he embarked on a journey to uncover the truth.
The Cangfeng Sect’s plot involving the Qingwu Ancestor’s rebellion and the manipulation of the Dragon Vein was initially met with skepticism by Li Kong’er. Yet, when he discovered a blood-soaked golden cicada, he couldn’t contain his excitement.
This golden cicada was once a token of an evil cult, one of the eight treasures his ill-fated senior had stolen.
The Golden Silk Armor might also be buried somewhere!
Li Kong’er scoured Yongzhou tirelessly, determined to locate the Golden Silk Armor and redeem the name of the “master thief.”
To avoid arousing suspicion from the Cangfeng Sect, he acted with utmost caution. Regarding the wooden box on the roof, Li Kong’er believed it was too reckless to hide valuables there. Yet, he wasn’t willing to overlook this possibility.
Having come this far, why not search?
Not only did he search during the quiet of night, but he also overlooked no detail, even the village dogs. Fearful of drawing the attention of the Cangfeng Sect, he remained vigilant. Nonetheless, he still met with misfortune.
In his heart, Li Kong’er cursed both Meng Qi and Mo Li bitterly. What he didn’t know was who had thwarted his plans, stealing away the Golden Silk Armor before him!
Struggling to free himself, he attacked his acupoints while waiting for the appearance of those two individuals. He hoped to gauge their stance. If they were both against the Cangfeng Sect, it would be a win-win situation. But as time passed, reaching noon, only a few martially ignorant villagers came and went.
Li Kong’er’s gaze grew increasingly icy. One villager felt chills run down his spine under the intense scrutiny and hurried to inform the village chief.
To apprehend him or not, to send him to the authorities or not – the village chief was caught in a dilemma.
No one noticed a white, fluffy mass darting along the corner of the wall.
Meng Qi had grown quite accustomed to this new form.
As his past memories gradually resurfaced, he found comfort in his current identity as a sand rat. Although his fur was striking, he managed to navigate unseen by positioning himself in the blind spots of others’ vision.
Even with six people ahead and no cover, the sand rat could ensure that not a single person saw him.
Everything in the sand rat’s eyes was magnified, allowing him to discern subtle details that a human would miss.
For instance, when he carefully explored the woods outside the village earlier, Meng Qi discovered beneath a semi-withered plum tree that something had been hidden there once. However, it had been taken away. After a few attempts, the plum tree had been damaged at the root.
As for the house next to the village chief’s, belonging to Zhang Dezhi, while its furnishings seemed decent, the poverty was stark.
The bowls were chipped, the rice bin was almost empty, and any slightly valuable small items were nowhere to be seen. Several thick winter clothes had pawnshop marks inside, indicating they had been pawned and later redeemed.
What Mo Li could deduce, Meng Qi could, too.
Zhang Dezhi wasn’t at home. He had gone out early with the villagers going to the market. Meng Qi felt trouble brewing, but he had no idea which gambling den Zhang Dezhi had gone to or whom he might be gossiping to. Meng Qi decided to deal with the thief first.
The villagers avoided looking at Li Kong’er out of fear of his retaliation, either leaving the shrine or avoiding his gaze.
Just as Li Kong’er was feeling triumphant, a sudden chill swept over his back. He hurriedly looked at the shadow on the ground, only to see a person’s right palm lifting, poised over the back of his head. A slight push, and his life could be taken.
“Senior, spare my life!”
Li Kong’er blurted out. It was then that he noticed the two villagers who remained in the shrine seemed to be acupoint-struck, sleeping soundly. If he died here, no one would know who killed him.
Growing more frantic, Li Kong’er noticed the figure that had appeared out of nowhere. It was like a ghost emerging from a curtain beside a shrine, draped in that very curtain!
“I won’t reveal the secret of the Golden Silk Armor!” Li Kong’er’s eyes darted around. He was certain that someone of this caliber probably wasn’t working for the Cangfeng Sect and likely couldn’t be bought by them either.
So he clenched his teeth and confessed, “There’s a conspiracy behind the Golden Silk Armor. I sought revenge for my senior brother.”
Embroidering his story with exaggerations and distortions, Li Kong’er painted a vivid picture, highlighting how Qingwu Ancestor intended to disturb the martial world with this artifact. Now, with the news of the Li Emperor’s tomb, there must be something sinister at play.
“…Senior, if someone were to produce the Golden Silk Armor now, revealing Qingwu Ancestor’s conspiracy and saving the martial world, they would undoubtedly become renowned across the land!”
Li Kong’er spoke with intense enthusiasm, while Meng Qi’s lip twitched slightly.
Destroying Qingwu Ancestor’s conspiracy was one thing, but the rest of it… He wasn’t a part of the martial world, and he didn’t care about those people and their “martial comrades.”
Whether they lived or died, Meng Qi couldn’t have cared less.
“What Golden Silk Armor? I’ve never even heard of it.”
Meng Qi’s tone turned chilly, leaving Li Kong’er somewhat stunned. He felt indignant but had to bow his head since he was under Meng Qi’s roof. All he could manage was to mutter, “Yes, yes, there’s no Golden Silk Armor. I haven’t seen anything!”
Meng Qi found Li Kong’er’s slick demeanor quite distasteful, so he allowed his rebellious side to take control.
With a burst of inner energy, Li Kong’er’s body trembled violently. He opened his mouth to shout, but then collapsed.
Li Kong’er didn’t die, but he suffered a severe head injury.
In milder cases, his memory of the past year or two would be gone, his reactions dulled. In more severe instances, he might struggle to walk steadily.
Meng Qi took a step back, and his figure returned behind the curtain. He remotely released the villagers from their acupoint-stuck sleep and transformed back into the inconspicuous sand rat.
As the sand rat, Meng Qi had just started to sneak along the wall when he spotted the village in turmoil. Everyone was running toward the village entrance.
Without hesitation, the sand rat quickly darted up a wall.
It’s small in stature, and if it wants to see what’s going on without revealing itself, so it has to climb higher.
Despite its plumpness, it was incredibly agile, and there was no wall it couldn’t scale.
Meng Qi’s first focus was on the village chief’s house, where everything seemed fine. However, he caught a glimpse of someone who looked like Mo Li.
It seemed that the physician had been alerted as well.
When the sand rat turned its head to face the village entrance, it saw an old scholar-like figure dressed in Confucian attire. Despite his aged appearance, with his white beard, he carried a person over his shoulder as if he were carrying a chicken.
The Confucian scholar strolled to the village entrance and grinned before releasing his grip.
The person he had been carrying fell to the ground, their face a mix of fear and desperation. It was indeed Zhang Dezhi.
“You didn’t deceive me, did you?”
“No, no… We really have a treasure in our village, it seems to be made of gold!” Zhang Dezhi’s face turned pale.
The old scholar’s eyebrows raised, his voice turning stern. “What gold and silver? That wasn’t what you said before.”
“It’s a golden thread! Golden thread…” Zhang Dezhi was clearly trying to complete his sentence, but he struggled to find the words. Finally, he forced himself to continue, “It’s a golden thread lantern, or maybe a golden hairpin. It’s definitely valuable.”
As he spoke, he pointed towards the village chief’s house, his voice tinged with despair. “It’s in his house!”
The elderly village chief was walking slowly, lagging behind.
Zhang Dezhi’s pointing gesture was precise, aligning directly with Mo Li.
In the present era, moral standards have deteriorated.
Leaning against the stone carving in the ancestral hall, Li Kong’er coldly watched the villagers bickering and complaining, feeling unusually irritated.
Though his name was Li Kong’er, he wasn’t the foolish Jianghu master thief Li Kong’er who had flaunted himself in front of the charming Chi Can’nu, only to meet his demise in the end due to a plot involving Chi Can’nu and her adulterous lover.
That unfortunate fellow was his senior, and in their Empty Sky Sect, it was a tradition that every successive generation took the name Li Kong’er.
Few in the Jianghu used their real names, for it made them susceptible to government warrants and also risked implicating their same-surnamed relatives.
Moreover, in the ever-changing Jianghu landscape where new talents emerged every three years, even the most famous deeds would soon become history. How could small sects and schools hope to thrive? It was better to have a long-standing figure consistently use the same name to navigate the Jianghu. This way, their reputation remained steady, and a name established in the Jianghu could last for generations.
Thus, the Jianghu was filled with prominent “characters,” but their legendary exploits might not always be the deeds of the person currently using the name.
For well-organized sects, it was relatively easier to trace their generational lineage, but for those hidden in the shadows, it was much more challenging.
Take the Empty Sky Sect, for example. The theft of the Jade Guanyin from the Ning Wang’s Mansion ten years ago and the theft of the Golden Silk Armor from the Jiangnan Eight Yun Hall three years ago—were these both the work of the same “Li Kong’er”? Even the Jianghu experts couldn’t be certain.
The Empty Sky Sect harbored another secret unknown to outsiders: there was often more than one successor in each generation.
Think about it, this master thief Li Kong’er was committing a robbery in Jiangnan yesterday, yet appeared in Yanzhou three days later! The modus operandi was the same, the martial arts style was the same, and the concealed weapons used were remarkably similar! Was this not incredibly mysterious?
Of course, some suspected that one of these cases might have been an imitation by someone else.
But the problem lay in determining who the real Li Kong’er was. For those in the Empty Sky Sect, anyone could be, and no one could be, the genuine Li Kong’er. It was simply impossible to judge.
As a result, with so much uncertainty, the Jianghu buzzed with speculation.
This was the ordinary survival method recognized by the Jianghu: without renown, what’s the point of being here!
The pursuit was to become famous and make a name for oneself, just as Jianghu people aspired to do.
In truth, having higher martial prowess doesn’t necessarily ensure a longer life. Martial skill is indeed a crucial survival factor for those in Jianghu, but even with exceptional martial abilities, poor luck might lead a courier from a caravan to an untimely death.
Moreover, the higher one’s martial skill, the greater the potential for encountering formidable troubles, which are inherent risks.
As for the gentlemen in the business of thieving, it’s not inherently dangerous; it mostly depends on what’s stolen.
If what’s stolen is problematic, it can spell disaster.
“Li Kong’er” was burdened by his reputation, persistently cultivating the title of “Jianghu’s Number One Master Thief.” Naturally, he had to pull off significant feats to maintain this reputation. After all, how could an accomplished master thief showcase their skills by stealing mundane items?
The former head of the Jiangnan Eight Yun Hall was once a martial arts alliance leader. Upon his passing, the prestige and power of the Eight Yun Hall diminished. Choosing to strike during the funeral of the old hall master provided a ripe opportunity. Many attending the ceremony were merely there for show, and infiltrating was relatively easy.
Seizing this soft target, Li Kong’er’s reputation as a master thief would reverberate throughout the Jianghu for years to come.
Whenever the old hall master’s name was mentioned, the conversation would inevitably steer towards the stolen treasures of the Eight Yun Hall. These treasures included the weapons the old hall master had wielded during his dominance of the Jianghu, tokens of his romantic entanglements, and even cursed symbols of the evil cults he had eradicated.
Li Kong’er’s audacious action was shameless, but it was remarkably effective.
—By exploiting a dead person’s fame, as long as that deceased individual was sufficiently renowned, there was no need to worry about one’s own lack of recognition.
Li Kong’er had borrowed a trick from assassins, those shadowy figures who, like him, remained unseen.
Even if the entire Jianghu spat condemnation at them, what did it matter? Did he expect to be recognized as the master thief Li Kong’er during his everyday activities or while participating in martial arts gatherings? It was utterly improbable!
Yet, an unexpected twist occurred. Among the stolen items was a piece of Golden Silk Armor. Driven by a sudden impulse, he showed it off to his lover and, in doing so, sealed his own fate.
His death was so dramatic that even his junior, his master’s other disciple, was exasperated.
His senior’s death might have solved many problems, but the brand of the master thief Li Kong’er had been tarnished! What were they, the Empty Sky Sect, to do?
This Li Kong’er was not content with his fate. He earnestly investigated the matter and discovered anomalies that led to the truth. The trail eventually led to the Cangfeng Sect. Realizing this, he came up with a plan: if he could recover the Golden Silk Armor, the problem might be resolved!
The master thief Li Kong’er faked his own death! It was all a ruse to investigate the mastermind behind the scenes – the hidden puppeteer!
With this intent, he abandoned his “master thief” identity entirely over the past three years. Leveraging his exceptional lightness techniques and clever escape skills, he embarked on a journey to uncover the truth.
The Cangfeng Sect’s plot involving the Qingwu Ancestor’s rebellion and the manipulation of the Dragon Vein was initially met with skepticism by Li Kong’er. Yet, when he discovered a blood-soaked golden cicada, he couldn’t contain his excitement.
This golden cicada was once a token of an evil cult, one of the eight treasures his ill-fated senior had stolen.
The Golden Silk Armor might also be buried somewhere!
Li Kong’er scoured Yongzhou tirelessly, determined to locate the Golden Silk Armor and redeem the name of the “master thief.”
To avoid arousing suspicion from the Cangfeng Sect, he acted with utmost caution. Regarding the wooden box on the roof, Li Kong’er believed it was too reckless to hide valuables there. Yet, he wasn’t willing to overlook this possibility.
Having come this far, why not search?
Not only did he search during the quiet of night, but he also overlooked no detail, even the village dogs. Fearful of drawing the attention of the Cangfeng Sect, he remained vigilant. Nonetheless, he still met with misfortune.
In his heart, Li Kong’er cursed both Meng Qi and Mo Li bitterly. What he didn’t know was who had thwarted his plans, stealing away the Golden Silk Armor before him!
Struggling to free himself, he attacked his acupoints while waiting for the appearance of those two individuals. He hoped to gauge their stance. If they were both against the Cangfeng Sect, it would be a win-win situation. But as time passed, reaching noon, only a few martially ignorant villagers came and went.
Li Kong’er’s gaze grew increasingly icy. One villager felt chills run down his spine under the intense scrutiny and hurried to inform the village chief.
To apprehend him or not, to send him to the authorities or not – the village chief was caught in a dilemma.
No one noticed a white, fluffy mass darting along the corner of the wall.
Meng Qi had grown quite accustomed to this new form.
As his past memories gradually resurfaced, he found comfort in his current identity as a sand rat. Although his fur was striking, he managed to navigate unseen by positioning himself in the blind spots of others’ vision.
Even with six people ahead and no cover, the sand rat could ensure that not a single person saw him.
Everything in the sand rat’s eyes was magnified, allowing him to discern subtle details that a human would miss.
For instance, when he carefully explored the woods outside the village earlier, Meng Qi discovered beneath a semi-withered plum tree that something had been hidden there once. However, it had been taken away. After a few attempts, the plum tree had been damaged at the root.
As for the house next to the village chief’s, belonging to Zhang Dezhi, while its furnishings seemed decent, the poverty was stark.
The bowls were chipped, the rice bin was almost empty, and any slightly valuable small items were nowhere to be seen. Several thick winter clothes had pawnshop marks inside, indicating they had been pawned and later redeemed.
What Mo Li could deduce, Meng Qi could, too.
Zhang Dezhi wasn’t at home. He had gone out early with the villagers going to the market. Meng Qi felt trouble brewing, but he had no idea which gambling den Zhang Dezhi had gone to or whom he might be gossiping to. Meng Qi decided to deal with the thief first.
The villagers avoided looking at Li Kong’er out of fear of his retaliation, either leaving the shrine or avoiding his gaze.
Just as Li Kong’er was feeling triumphant, a sudden chill swept over his back. He hurriedly looked at the shadow on the ground, only to see a person’s right palm lifting, poised over the back of his head. A slight push, and his life could be taken.
“Senior, spare my life!”
Li Kong’er blurted out. It was then that he noticed the two villagers who remained in the shrine seemed to be acupoint-struck, sleeping soundly. If he died here, no one would know who killed him.
Growing more frantic, Li Kong’er noticed the figure that had appeared out of nowhere. It was like a ghost emerging from a curtain beside a shrine, draped in that very curtain!
“I won’t reveal the secret of the Golden Silk Armor!” Li Kong’er’s eyes darted around. He was certain that someone of this caliber probably wasn’t working for the Cangfeng Sect and likely couldn’t be bought by them either.
So he clenched his teeth and confessed, “There’s a conspiracy behind the Golden Silk Armor. I sought revenge for my senior brother.”
Embroidering his story with exaggerations and distortions, Li Kong’er painted a vivid picture, highlighting how Qingwu Ancestor intended to disturb the martial world with this artifact. Now, with the news of the Li Emperor’s tomb, there must be something sinister at play.
“…Senior, if someone were to produce the Golden Silk Armor now, revealing Qingwu Ancestor’s conspiracy and saving the martial world, they would undoubtedly become renowned across the land!”
Li Kong’er spoke with intense enthusiasm, while Meng Qi’s lip twitched slightly.
Destroying Qingwu Ancestor’s conspiracy was one thing, but the rest of it… He wasn’t a part of the martial world, and he didn’t care about those people and their “martial comrades.”
Whether they lived or died, Meng Qi couldn’t have cared less.
“What Golden Silk Armor? I’ve never even heard of it.”
Meng Qi’s tone turned chilly, leaving Li Kong’er somewhat stunned. He felt indignant but had to bow his head since he was under Meng Qi’s roof. All he could manage was to mutter, “Yes, yes, there’s no Golden Silk Armor. I haven’t seen anything!”
Meng Qi found Li Kong’er’s slick demeanor quite distasteful, so he allowed his rebellious side to take control.
With a burst of inner energy, Li Kong’er’s body trembled violently. He opened his mouth to shout, but then collapsed.
Li Kong’er didn’t die, but he suffered a severe head injury.
In milder cases, his memory of the past year or two would be gone, his reactions dulled. In more severe instances, he might struggle to walk steadily.
Meng Qi took a step back, and his figure returned behind the curtain. He remotely released the villagers from their acupoint-stuck sleep and transformed back into the inconspicuous sand rat.
As the sand rat, Meng Qi had just started to sneak along the wall when he spotted the village in turmoil. Everyone was running toward the village entrance.
Without hesitation, the sand rat quickly darted up a wall.
It’s small in stature, and if it wants to see what’s going on without revealing itself, so it has to climb higher.
Despite its plumpness, it was incredibly agile, and there was no wall it couldn’t scale.
Meng Qi’s first focus was on the village chief’s house, where everything seemed fine. However, he caught a glimpse of someone who looked like Mo Li.
It seemed that the physician had been alerted as well.
When the sand rat turned its head to face the village entrance, it saw an old scholar-like figure dressed in Confucian attire. Despite his aged appearance, with his white beard, he carried a person over his shoulder as if he were carrying a chicken.
The Confucian scholar strolled to the village entrance and grinned before releasing his grip.
The person he had been carrying fell to the ground, their face a mix of fear and desperation. It was indeed Zhang Dezhi.
“You didn’t deceive me, did you?”
“No, no… We really have a treasure in our village, it seems to be made of gold!” Zhang Dezhi’s face turned pale.
The old scholar’s eyebrows raised, his voice turning stern. “What gold and silver? That wasn’t what you said before.”
“It’s a golden thread! Golden thread…” Zhang Dezhi was clearly trying to complete his sentence, but he struggled to find the words. Finally, he forced himself to continue, “It’s a golden thread lantern, or maybe a golden hairpin. It’s definitely valuable.”
As he spoke, he pointed towards the village chief’s house, his voice tinged with despair. “It’s in his house!”
The elderly village chief was walking slowly, lagging behind.
Zhang Dezhi’s pointing gesture was precise, aligning directly with Mo Li.
