Why do I have so many masters?

The world is vast, the heavens and earth boundless, and within it all lies Jianghu.

Today, ceaseless autumn rains fall, but the news within Jianghu spreads even faster than usual. The sprawling Fufeng City, shrouded in sheets of rain and mist, becomes all the more serene. Martial artists draped in straw capes tread upon the wet stone slabs, hastening their pace. The water collected on the stones ripples beneath their steps before returning to tranquility, reflecting the lofty expanse of the sky above.

A Flying Eagle sweeps past, wings fluttering.

Clad in men's attire and holding a green umbrella, Xue Qinshuang follows the scent of wine to a tavern.

Despite the heavy rain outside, her cultivation is so profound that she suffers no 'disaster,' and a waiter promptly wipes down the table with a hot, steaming white cloth. The maiden takes a seat, her gaze falling upon the waiter's palm.

With her keen eyesight, she quickly discerns some form of 'Iron Sand Palm' hard kung fu in the waiter, who effortlessly wrings out the cloth billowing with steam. Her thoughts drift, wondering how one without martial arts could accomplish this, which leads her to ponder how a world without the lineage of martial arts would write its people's lives and history?

Xue Qinshuang becomes slightly lost in thought.

Undoubtedly, there would be a different kind of splendor.

Moved by the thought, she notices the waiter has already delivered the heated wine and a dish of cold appetizers.

The aroma of wine fills the air, and a glimmer of clarity passes through the girl's somewhat dazed eyes as she returns to the moment, laughing inwardly, yet feeling that the season of autumn rain always evokes many sentiments.

It is also quite fitting for drinking alone.

Autumn is not the season for calling friends and making merry.

She pours her own drink, not rushing to taste it. First, she appreciates the fragrance, observes the color like jade green, satisfaction evident in her eyes. She raises the cup, lips lightly touching the rim, when she suddenly hears someone whispering in an excited tone so intense that the words seem to tunnel straight into her ears.

"Have you heard…"

Xue Qinshuang continues to drink.

"That guardian of the Fufeng's library…"

The motion of lifting her cup to drink halts slightly. Xue Qinshuang opens her half-closed eyes a little more but does not set down her cup, appearing to still sip lightly while her thoughts are now entirely on the person who spoke, also noting that they must have entered after her, recalling only their hurried footsteps and the dampness of rain and mud.

Why would it involve Wang Anfeng?

Xue Qinshuang feels a hint of curiosity, and the rich taste of the wine seems to lose its depth.

The rain continues to pour outside.

The patrons nearby first nibble on a few fennel seeds, chewing loudly, then take gulps of strong liquor to chase away the chill of the rainy day. After letting out a satisfied breath, they finally notice their friend's reproachful gaze at the table, chuckle awkwardly, reflect on what they had just seen, filled with emotion, and sigh,

"That guardian of Fufeng's library should be ranked on the Terrestrial Fiend List…"

Those nearby are stunned at the proclamation. Everyone knows the Constellation Ranking List only includes young heroes under the age of twenty, ranked by their achievements, and Earthly Fiend level warriors are nearly invincible at Eighth Rank. The appraisal of this librarian is something any martial artist in Fufeng City could attest to.

After all, the martial style of this young hero is undeniably extreme.

The surrounding curious gazes seem to bring a unique pleasure to the speaker's eyes. He chuckles, takes another sip of wine, and then leisurely begins to recount what he had witnessed. However, being just an onlooker, there is a natural inaccuracy in his words, and he also wishes to see the astonishment in the eyes of those around him, thereby perhaps exaggerating a little.

Wang Anfeng, the guardian of Fufeng's library, wields an umbrella against his foes.

Beneath the 'umbrella,' sword qi bursts forth, shattering the curtain of rain.

Seventh Rank Martial Artists lament their inferiority.

Even Upper Third Rank Grandmasters who have ceased their pursuit of advancement express great admiration.

With every claim, exclamations of amazement escape from the onlookers, who become even more thrilled, fueling the man's pride. He stands, a jug of wine in one hand, a cup in another, staggers a few steps, and then recites a poem celebrating swordsmanship. Although everyone is aware of the potential exaggeration, being martial artists themselves, some even sword wielders, they cannot help but feel an aspiration stirring within, and for a moment, the atmosphere grows boisterous.

Xue Qinshuang's hand on the wine cup has already stilled.

Setting the jug down on the table, she looks out at the rain curtain and suddenly feels that her initial thought was mistaken.

Autumn is not meant for solitary drinking.

It is meant for crossing swords in the rain.

If the one she crosses swords with wears a blue shirt and wields a wooden sword, his every move emitting fierce sword qi, that would be perfect.

In the autumn rain, inside the tavern, beside the wooden table.

The maiden in white rests her chin in her hand and holds the wine jug, muttering to herself,

"Wang Anfeng…"

"How cunning!"

In the south of Fufeng City, a secluded courtyard was hidden amidst the bustling area, made of bluestone and under the curtain of rain, it appeared even more solemn and serene.

According to the requirements of "The Rites of Zhou: Record of Crafts", this southern part of the city should be where officials conduct their business. However, Fufeng City is large and flexible in its arrangements; official government offices are stationed within all four quarters. The south is mainly where the official's families, the nobility, and the noble clans of the court reside. The courtyards are designed in a triple-entry layout, faintly echoing with the ethereal strums of a zither from within.

Recently, Xuan Zhu, the person who attempted to assassinate Wang Anfeng, was sitting under a pavilion, holding a jug of wine in his right hand, staring at the rain outside as if in a trance. Meanwhile, Yu Wen, the elder sister-like figure, stood at the entrance of the inner hall. She had not entered, but instead stood at the doorway, eyes slightly closed, hands behind her back, listening to the melodies of the zither.

Today, she did not carry that blade, which resembled those used by horse bandits or soldiers. Dressed in a skirt outfit, she stood with eyes closed, listening intently, her demeanor not unworthy of what Wang Anfeng had once envisioned—a lady of quiet grace and refinement. The music from the zither inside came to an end, and a gentle female voice called out,

"The wind outside is strong, why not come inside?"

Yu Wen opened her eyes, looking at the rain outside, and chuckled while shaking her head,

"No, thank you, auntie. The rain outside is quite pleasant, and your zither playing is lovely."

A helpless, light chuckle seemed to emanate from within, and moments later, a young man dressed in black stepped out, holding a silver tray filled with a variety of exquisite pastries, eight different kinds to be exact. Handing it over, he said,

"Miss Yuwen, the eight delicacies brought from Heaven Capital City by the mistress, aren't they your favorite?"

The young lady's gaze shifted subtly, giving the young man a meaningful look. Understanding, he nodded and shifted the pastries on the silver tray to reveal a small, scenic wine flask. Yu Wen's face lit up with joy, and she raised her voice to say,

"Thank you, Aunt. And thank you, Brother Ding Song for the trouble."

The young man in black, knowing there were two meanings to her words, couldn't help but laugh in spite of his annoyance as he shook his head,

"As a house guard, Ding Song doesn't deserve to be called Brother."

Yu Wen stuck out her tongue in a mischievous smile and deftly tucked the wine, unique to Heaven Capital City and not shared with outsiders, into her bosom. She then picked up a pastry with her hand, took a delicate bite, and felt a lingering fragrance on her lips. Her eyes narrowed slightly in delight, like crescent moons. At that moment, a clear and distant bird call pierced the stormy sky, its clarity undiminished by the wind and rain.

The young man dressed in black looked up and saw, against the backdrop of the sky made loftier by the accumulating rain clouds, a black-feathered eagle folding its wings and descending, cutting a dark line through the rain curtain.

It was like an arrow shot by a fierce general at the border pass.

The young man, Ding Song, was momentarily distracted.

As he was lost in thought, a silver tray suddenly appeared in his arms. Instinctively embracing it, he saw the young lady motioning for the eagle to land on her arm and deftly removing something from its claws. Her eyes sparkled as though she had encountered something of great interest.

She shook the letter open with her left hand and perused it. Ding Song, with his sharp eyes, caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar name, apparently that of a man. A feeling of defeat and impotence rose within him, even as he tried to wildly comfort himself internally.

No matter, Wang Anfeng.

"Wind," such an elegant character, perhaps it's a girl.

It's just the word "An" that's somewhat irritating to the eyes.

Yet by observing Yu Wen's reaction, he found his own consolation unconvincing. As a house guard, he knew it was improper to peek at a stranger's letter, but something inside him made it impossible to resist, and he read it to the end.

Today, in Fufeng City, Wang Anfeng fought against another outside the Wind Character Tower. His swordsmanship and cultivation are extremely strong, and even if his other martial arts are ordinary, they are still hard to overshadow.

In a sudden outbreak, he could kill an Eighth Rank Martial Artist.

He is capable of using a bamboo umbrella to create Sword Qi.

Yu Wen's eyes gleamed as she tossed the eagle back into the sky. The woman inside, hearing the commotion outside, asked curiously,

"Qingzhu...what happened?"

The girl, who went by the pseudonym Yu Wen, pondered for a moment, not tucking away the letter, and said, "He is a very interesting... hmm, a very interesting friend."

"Auntie, if you're interested, I could tell you his story..."

The voice from the inside hesitated slightly, followed by a light chuckle from the woman,

"Then come inside..."

The young lady leaped softly into the room, while the young man dressed in black suppressed the random thoughts in his head, his gaze falling, intent on storing away the silver tray. But then he saw the pastry that the young lady had bitten, the soft treat bearing the delicate imprint of teeth like that of a crescent moon. In his eyes, the marks seemed to grow larger and more pervasive, like an inescapable phantom.
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His body stiffened slightly, and his face flushed with feverish warmth. Lifting his eyes, he dared not look any further, and turned the pastry round in his hand, muttering to himself,

"Look not upon what is improper, look not upon what is improper..."

"I didn't look…I didn't, though I wanted to…"

Only after turning it away did he finally breathe a sigh of relief, feeling his back drenched in cold sweat.

This was more exhausting than battling on the sands of the battlefield.

PS: Today's first update is here.

PS2: Thank you to fisher the slow fisherman for the generous reward. It's a bit late today, but later…there will be additional updates to offer, (the roar of a salty fish).