?Zhou Chun spun around, his sword drawn in an instant, ready to fight. But the man behind him was not a Wutai monk—he was a young warrior-scholar, dressed in fine blue satin, his face fair as jade, yet his eyes glinting with lechery. A large peony flower made of pith was slanted at his temple, and he held a fan in his hand, fanning himself slowly.?

  “Relax,” the young man said, grinning. “I am not here to fight you. I just happened to see you snooping around Ciyun Temple—and I know why you're here. You're looking for Maotai, the Eight-Finger Monk. Am I right?”?

  Zhou Chun narrowed his eyes, his sword still raised. “Who are you? What do you know about Maotai?”?

  The young man laughed, lowering the fan to reveal a scar on his cheek. “I am Zhang Liang, the Shadow-Stepping Peony. Maotai is my master. He has been waiting for you, Zhou Chun—the Cloud-Crane Spare. He wants to kill you, and I get to watch. Or maybe… I get to kill you first. That would make him very happy.”?

  Zhou Chun's blood ran cold. He was face-to-face with Maotai's disciple—a man who likely had the same cruel heart as his master. He tightened his grip on his sword, his mind racing. He could not fight Zhang Liang here—not outside Ciyun Temple, where Maotai and other Wutai monks could hear the commotion. He needed to lure Zhang Liang away, to a place where he could fight without being surrounded.?

  “You think you can kill me?” Zhou Chun said, taunting him. “You look like a pretty boy, not a warrior. Maotai must be desperate to send someone like you after me.”?

  Zhang Liang's face turned red with anger. “You dare mock me? I will cut you into pieces!” He drew a blade from his waist, its edge glinting in the moonlight, and charged at Zhou Chun.?

  Zhou Chun dodged, spinning out of the way, and ran toward the city center. “Come and get me, pretty boy! Let's see if you can keep up!”?

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  Zhang Liang roared, chasing after him. The two ran through the streets of Chengdu, their footsteps echoing in the quiet night. Zhou Chun led him toward the River-Viewing Tower, a busy spot during the day, but empty at night. He knew the area well—narrow alleys, tall rooftops, perfect for a fight.?

  When they reached the River-Viewing Tower, Zhou Chun spun around, his sword ready. Zhang Liang skidded to a stop, his chest heaving, his eyes filled with rage. “You cannot run forever, Zhou Chun. Tonight, you die.”?

  “We shall see,” Zhou Chun said, his voice steady. He had fought many villains in his life, and Zhang Liang—arrogant, impulsive—was no different. He could use his arrogance against him.?

  Zhang Liang charged again, his blade swinging wildly. Zhou Chun dodged, parrying the strike with his own sword. The two clashed, their blades ringing as they fought. Zhang Liang was fast, his movements quick and agile, but he lacked discipline—he swung without thinking, leaving himself open to attack.?

  Zhou Chun fought defensively at first, studying Zhang Liang's moves, waiting for his chance. He noticed that Zhang Liang favored his right hand, that his left side was vulnerable. He also noticed the faint smell of alcohol on his breath—he was drunk, or at least tipsy.?

  “You fight like a drunkard,” Zhou Chun said, taunting him again. “Is this the best Maotai can teach you?”?

  Zhang Liang roared, swinging his blade harder. He lunged forward, aiming for Zhou Chun's chest. Zhou Chun dodged, then spun around, kicking Zhang Liang in the back. Zhang Liang stumbled forward, nearly falling. Zhou Chun seized the moment, slashing his sword at Zhang Liang's leg.?

  Zhang Liang screamed as the blade cut through his pants, slicing his calf. Blood poured from the wound. He turned around, his face contorted with pain and anger. “I will kill you!” He pulled a handful of poison darts from his pocket and hurled them at Zhou Chun.?

  Zhou Chun ducked, the darts flying over his head and hitting the wall behind him. He charged forward, his sword stabbing straight for Zhang Liang's chest. Zhang Liang tried to block, but his leg was injured—he moved too slow. The sword pierced his shoulder, and he fell to the ground, screaming in agony.?

  Zhou Chun stood over him, his sword pressed to Zhang Liang's throat. “Tell me where Maotai is. Tell me what the Wutai Sect is planning. And tell me about Zhao Yan'er—where is he?”?

  Zhang Liang spat blood, grinning. “I will tell you nothing. Maotai will find you, Zhou Chun. He will kill you, and he will kill your daughter. The Wutai Sect will rule this city, and there is nothing you can do to stop us.”?

  Zhou Chun's eyes turned cold. He pressed the sword harder, drawing a drop of blood. “Last chance. Tell me, or I will kill you now.”?

  Before Zhang Liang could speak, a faint whistle echoed in the air. Zhou Chun spun around, his sword raised, but it was too late. A dart hit him in the shoulder, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He stumbled, his vision blurring. He looked up, and saw a figure in black robes standing in the shadows—Maotai.?

  “Hello, Zhou Chun,” Maotai said, his voice cold and cruel. “I've been waiting for you.”?