Chapter 29: Impressive, Truly Impressive

Following the instructions of the gang leader, Hong Qigong piloted the small boat to the Yuhang water gate and tapped the bamboo clapper at a specific frequency. In less than half a cup of tea’s time, the sluice gate, which had been lowered long ago, rose slowly, opening just enough for a single small boat to pass through.

Hong Qigong was secretly startled. If it were an empty boat, it certainly wouldn’t have fit; to calculate both the height and the cargo capacity so precisely—this organization was clearly no simple matter.

For the first time, Hong Qigong felt he might have been a bit rash. It wasn't unheard of to bribe a city gate official in the middle of the night, but such precise calculations indicated a highly disciplined and rigorous organization. He feared this trip might end in vain.

The boat stopped in the canal. Following his instructions, Hong Qigong went ashore. After ensuring he was not being followed, he swapped identities with a Beggar Sect disciple of similar build, letting the disciple swagger toward the designated lodging while he returned to the bank to continue his surveillance.

Sure enough, about a quarter of an hour after the disciple reached the destination...

A man emerged from the water and boarded the small boat. He didn't immediately pole the boat away, but instead shouted, "Come out, friend! I see you!"

Hong Qigong was shocked. Had he been discovered? But looking closely, although the man shouted, he was looking toward the opposite bank. To avoid a trap, Hong Qigong remained still.

Unexpectedly, the man turned around and shouted toward his side, "What, do you need me to invite you personally?" The time dragged on, heavy and oppressive.

Just as Hong Qigong was about to leap out, the man shouted toward the waterway, "Since that’s how it is, I shall take my leave!" While Hong Qigong felt relieved, he couldn't help but wonder: had he been discovered or not?

The boat turned southwest, heading toward West Lake. The boatman stopped the vessel at the edge of the lake and left on foot. Hong Qigong felt speechless. Damn it, did they have to be this cautious?

Sure enough, shortly after, another man walked to the lake, boarded the boat, and repeated the same "I see you" routine. Hong Qigong realized this was just a bluffing procedure and ignored it.

As for Qiu Zhiqing on the boat, he had simply entered meditation, as the wait was far too boring. He would wake up to check the situation every time they stopped anyway. Being able to sleep and wake at will was one of the fruits of his many years of Taoist practice. He slept well, but it was hard on Hong Qigong on the bank.

The boat rowed toward the center of the lake. If he didn't follow, the boat would vanish into the night sky, and walking along the shore was clearly not an option. With no other choice, Hong Qigong was forced to take a "leisurely swim" in West Lake.

The early spring water held a distinct chill. Even with Hong Qigong’s profound internal energy, he felt quite moved—and perhaps shivering—at the rare experience of swimming in West Lake at midnight. He insisted, "This has absolutely nothing to do with the cold!"

It wasn't that he didn't want to use his light-foot skills to catch up, but at night, with the lake water so clear, he would easily be exposed. Qiu Zhiqing slept peacefully on the boat while Hong Qigong swam briskly.

It was truly: "Young master, you sit at the bow; old beggar, I swim in the water. Swim fast, swim fast, the shark is chasing from behind!" Of course, there were no sharks in West Lake.

Hong Qigong trailed far behind the boat, under the stars and moon, passing Pinghu Qiuyue and catching sight of the reflection of Leifeng Pagoda and the Yongming Zen Temple in the night. Knowing he was close, he accelerated to catch up and clung to the stern.

"Why didn't I think of such a good idea before?" Hong Qigong cursed himself for being a senile old fool.

Ding San was a veteran boatman responsible for ferrying from West Lake to the base; he had been doing this for three years. In his moral compass, there was no good or evil; like most of the masses in this world, he passively accepted each day. He had tried to climb higher, but eventually realized there was an unbridgeable chasm between him and those people.

Three years ago, the previous ferryman’s base was destroyed by the authorities due to a security breach, and he had volunteered to take the job. Over the past three years, making the trip every six months, he had never failed.

The occasional groans from the cargo hold didn't concern him; he was used to it. Sometimes he wondered if he once had a complete family, loving parents, or siblings to play with. But he dared not think too much, fearing that one day he, too, would vanish from his own life like the others, lost in the depths of memory.

He shook his head, casting these impractical thoughts aside. He didn't know if it was because he was getting old, but he loved to dwell on such nonsense. When he lived on the edge of a blade, he wasn't like this. People truly shouldn't be idle; once idle, it’s easy to overthink. For instance, just now, he felt the boat had become slightly heavier. He was just scaring himself!

They were almost there. After the handover, he would have another six months of vacation. That was good, wasn't it? The boat reached the shore, and he struck a rock with his pole six times, followed by five light taps.

Soon, the rock on the bank sank, revealing a waterway, and the boat slowly drifted inside.

Hong Qigong followed into the waterway. Behind him, the water churned as the rock rose, sealing the entrance and cutting off the light. The boatman lit a lantern at the bow, illuminating the tunnel. It was clearly man-made, with obvious chisel marks on the walls and ceiling.

After traveling about a hundred paces, firelight appeared ahead, accompanied by faint voices. Whether on the boat or in the water, everyone shared a single thought: They had arrived!

The cavern was large and high, with one side bordering the water and three sides land. The waterway extended further into the depths. About a dozen men stood on the shore, presumably to "receive the goods."

"Ding San, no tail, right?" The man on the shore asked. Qiu Zhiqing, who had woken up when the boatman lit the lamp, thought to himself—he had slept quite well.

"Enough, you ask every time. If there were a tail, would the boat reach me? It would have been seized by the authorities long ago!" Ding San replied as he docked and tied the mooring rope. The receiver didn't take offense and ordered his men to "open the blind box."

But before they could board, a voice called out, "No need to trouble yourselves, this Taoist shall step out himself!"

As the words fell, a sack appeared at the bow. Before the men could react, a horsetail whisk poked out of the sack, the fabric tore, and the dozen thugs were instantly immobilized by acupoint strikes.

The leader, however, punched a small protrusion on a stone pillar. This action went unnoticed by both Hong Qigong, who was guarding the exit, and Qiu Zhiqing, who was dealing with the thugs.

A moment later, the thugs stood frozen. Only the leader remained, trembling like a frightened deer, looking from Qiu Zhiqing to Hong Qigong, his back against the stone wall, looking pitiful.

Qin Fei, having just emerged from the sack, stepped forward and shouted, "Bold villains! Daring to traffic children, do you know the penalty for your crimes?"

Qin Fei felt helpless. He was a lackey of the imperial court, not a constable of the Six Gates; he shouldn't be involved in this. It felt like neglecting his duties. But one must bow when under the eaves. Who would have thought that a young Taoist who was only slightly better than him a year ago—someone he thought he and his brother could easily handle to wash away their shame—would be so much stronger now? And then, a Beggar Sect leader even more formidable than him had appeared... Why did they have to drag them into this?

The leader naturally wanted to escape through the exit guarded by Hong Qigong, but he had to watch the two behind him. As Qin Fei moved to finish him, the leader threw a handful of white lime at Qiu Zhiqing and Qin Fei, then lunged at Hong Qigong.

Hong Qigong unleashed a palm strike of the Dragon-Subduing technique, blasting the lime back into the leader's face. Simultaneously, Qiu Zhiqing flicked his whisk, striking the leader’s back with the lime and a burst of sword energy.

Facing the Dragon-Subduing palm in front and the Quanzhen sword energy from behind, the leader met his end. Hong Qigong complained, "Kid, why did you kill him? This old beggar still had things to ask him!"

Qiu Zhiqing refused to take the blame. "This man clearly died from your Dragon-Subduing palm, Senior! Don't talk nonsense!"

"Nonsense! He clearly died from your sword energy!" Qiu Zhiqing flicked his whisk over his right arm, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and asked leisurely, "What sword energy? What sword?"

The three of them made their way out. At a turn in the tunnel, Qiu Zhiqing’s ears twitched. He grabbed Qin Fei, who had just stepped around the corner, and pulled him back, his whisk moving in a circle to deflect five crossbow bolts that had bounced off the corner.

Applause rang out from the tunnel ahead: "Brilliant, brilliant! Impressive, impressive!"