The Double

Yin Zhan’s weapon was a saber, which looked extremely heavy with a ferocious wolf head carved into the hilt, yet it seemed as light as a swan feather when he wielded it. He scoffed at Jih Heng’s golden silk folding fan and said with a loud laugh, "Nephew, your weapon is far too redolent of rouge and powder!"

Jih Heng replied with a faint smile, "As long as it’s effective." The fan flicked open and closed, grazing past Yin Zhan, leaving a streak of blood on his face.

Unperturbed, he wiped off the blood and said, "Such a treacherous hidden weapon!"

"After all, uncle, my parents have already experienced your despicable nature; I dare not take you lightly," Jih Heng replied indolently.

The saber’s gleam was like silver snow, and the wolf head also radiated murderous intent—likely because it had followed Yin Zhan into battle, claiming countless souls, making the saber malevolent. Yet entangled with it was the splendid folding fan. The saber’s edge drew blood, and the fan’s breeze was also injurious. After several exchanges, both men were wounded.

The Actor below sang, "Oh, Concubine, how could you know! In the past, each hero fought their own battles, and I could extinguish one fire only to seize another area. Now, all troops are attacking in concert; at Gaixia, with fewer men and no food left, we cannot hold; though the eight thousand troops are valiant and strong, they have been scattered; I sally forth to battle the enemy, and victory or defeat is uncertain. Alas, Concubine! Given the situation, today is the day we part!"

Into the jade bowl goes the pearl, gold falls onto the silver plate. With a loud shout from Yin Zhan, figures of soldiers clad in Armored Clothing leapt out from several beaded curtains atop the Red Building. Jih Heng laughed, "Uncle, your baseness truly does not disappoint me."

"The new waves of the Yangtze River push the old waves ahead," Yin Zhan retorted, "In war, deceit is not scorned. Behold the saber!"

Jih Heng chuckled as well, his laugh tinged with mockery, and then from the upper floors and behind the beaded curtains, a group of opulently dressed young men appeared all at once.

He had a killing move, and was he not the same?

Yin Zhan’s face did not show much surprise, as if he had anticipated this moment. Indeed, both men were fully aware of what the other intended to do; it was a contest of who was luckier, who was tougher. Jih Heng was ruthless, and was Yin Zhan any less so? He was capable of harming his own flesh and blood, betraying and killing his brothers and friends—how could he be a man of tenderness?