The Visitor from Songshan

As the golden crow sank westward, night descended like a thin mist, gradually tinging the entire dome of heaven and earth with a somber hue.

I stood in the center of the dormitory. The lights were off, and I could only vaguely discern the outlines of various objects by the fading daylight.

Guo Hao stood to my left, Linghu Ruoxu to my right, while Yang Chun pressed against the wall, peering sideways through the half-open door at the corridor outside.

All four of us held our breath, as if any sound would summon some ominous presence.

Discounting Yang Chun, who spent his days leering at and harassing decent women, the rest of us had clear consciences—we had done nothing wrong in life. But that old saying proved useless here: even with a clean conscience, when the dust settles, the ghosts that are meant to come will find their way to your door.

After an unknown stretch of time, a disturbance seemed to stir in the eerily quiet corridor.

Though I had lost my martial arts and my hearing was far from what it used to be, I had arranged for Yang Chun to stand guard at the door. His ancestor, the Divine Condor Hero Yang Guo, had once studied in the Ancient Tomb sect at Tianwu University’s Zhongnan Mountain branch—a training ground in a massive, sunless cavern. Hence, Yang Chun’s family had passed down techniques for seeing in the dark and sharpening hearing, making him perfectly suited for the task.

Through his hand signals, I translated in a low voice to the other two: “Hmm, his lower body is steady, but his footsteps are a bit heavy. He’s not skilled in lightness arts, and his techniques don’t rely on his legs. That rules out Murong Fan… I don’t hear the clink of metal, so he’s unarmed… His breathing is calm and deep—his inner energy cultivation is quite high. That means his palm techniques should be formidable. Since that’s the case, Big Brother, he’s yours. Third Brother, have Second Brother come back. We’ll proceed with the plan.”

Having arranged everything in a whisper, I gave their hands a final squeeze. The three of us, along with Yang Chun who was quietly closing the door, were likely thinking the same thing. No one spoke; we waited to carry out the plan.

*****

A few breaths later, the footsteps grew clearer, sounding somewhat ominous in the vast darkness. Finally, the person seemed to stop steadily at our dormitory door.

Inside, the four of us, already in position, felt our hearts leap into our throats. Hearing the person halt outside, we quietly swallowed, knowing that success or failure, life or death, all hinged on this moment.

*****

As we swallowed, a heavy “bang” suddenly rang out. The dormitory door was roughly shoved open, shattering the doorframe at the lock, sending splinters flying.

In the half-open doorway stood a slightly short, stout figure, solemn and imposing. A pair of bright, sharp eyes gleamed with a dark, steady light.

Guo Hao, positioned near the door, yanked it open, flipped on the fluorescent light, and bellowed, “Who goes there? State your name! How dare you cause trouble in our dorm—are you tired of living?”

With a shout, he thrust a palm toward the intruder.

Seeing the fierce strike, the intruder had no choice but to step back and raise a palm to parry. With a bang, their palms collided midair, evenly matched!

In the brief exchange, the intruder swept a cold gaze across the now-lit room. When his eyes fell on me, he paused momentarily, then said in a chilling voice, “The Nine-tailed Spirit Fox is here, isn’t it? That’s why I’ve come. You there, the Linghu kid, and the rest of you freshmen—if you know what’s good for you, clear out!”

I had been watching intently. From his movements and words, I confirmed two things: first, his martial arts were indeed focused on his palms; second, it was exactly as I suspected—Linghu’s careless words downstairs earlier had given away our location.

This realization made me cast an annoyed glance at Linghu. But I found his expression strange, as if he had seen a monster.

“Third Brother, what’s wrong? Don’t fret over it now—it was an honest mistake,” I whispered, assuming he had realized his slip-up led the intruder straight to our room. “Even if not, they already know Xiao Qi is in this building. They’d search room by room and eventually find us anyway.”

Linghu’s face remained grim despite my reassurance. Staring at the ongoing exchange between Guo Hao and the intruder, he finally replied hoarsely, “No… this person… he’s… Zuo Feng of Songshan!”