Chapter 79: A Battle Against the Japanese Ronin in the Dark Night

By the time Chen Jiehua had finished “killing time” with Zhao Shiyu, it was nearly eleven. He left the pharmacy with Old Zhao and they parted ways, each heading home.

Because the conversation with Old Zhao had been pleasantly amusing, Chen Jiehua was in good spirits and paid no mind to the tail on the way. But the moment he entered Jesfield Road, his vigilance snapped back at once. The winter night wind blew the last of his excitement away and woke him fully.

This was Shanghai.

Once inside Jesfield Road, the tracker no longer bothered to conceal himself. He sprang from a tree with a forceful overhead strike, the blade dropping straight toward Chen Jiehua.

A Japanese ruffian.

Chen Jiehua rolled away at lightning speed, evading the first slash, and turned.

The ruffian had missed. He landed on one knee, one hand gripping the sword, the other holding the scabbard, poised to burst forward again at any moment, his eyes fixed on Chen Jiehua with mocking amusement.

After turning, Chen Jiehua also remained bent low, ready to shift sideways or flip backward at any instant. Narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brow, he studied the ruffian’s eyes in the weak spill of the streetlamp.

Shigen style? A single-blade cut? A retainer of the Shimazu house?

In a flash, Chen Jiehua’s mind worked through the ruffian’s sword grip, the first slash, and his previous encounter on the train back to Miyazaki, and came to a preliminary conclusion: the opponent was using the Shimazu clan’s Shigen-style swordsmanship.

But why would a retainer from my uncle’s household suddenly try to kill me? As Chen Jiehua was thinking, his gaze flickered for an instant, and the other seized the chance to burst forward again in a straight-line thrust with one hand.

Chen Jiehua sidestepped in a rapid flip, once more avoiding the strike, then settled into position and faced the enemy head-on again. It truly was the one-handed thrust distinctive to Shigen style.

“Retainer of the Shimazu house! Why are you trying to kill me?” Chen Jiehua tested him in Japanese.

“Heh heh heh, you know quite a lot, impostor!” the other replied in a low, hoarse voice, as if he were in no hurry at all.

Impostor? How did he find out I’m fake?

Chen Jiehua frowned again, and murder welled up at once. This man had to die tonight.

“Heh heh heh. The last time, it was exactly this feeling. Killing intent. Gone in an instant. Truly no small matter. No wonder even the head of the Aoki family was fooled by you!”

Confirmed. The last time he ran into this man, it had been part of the test.

“How did you discover the flaw this time?”

“It’s fine to let you die with your eyes open. In that pharmacy, the other man called out, Old Chen, you beast! There were only two people in the shop. He was calling you. I suspected you from the start. This time I only came to confirm it!”

Damn it. He could hear even from outside the room? What kind of ears did he have? What had he done to Old Zhao?

Chen Jiehua tensed, but he did not ask. Cold sweat broke out across his back. In the instant he lost focus, the ruffian launched another rapid thrust.

Instinctively, Chen Jiehua flipped backward, then rolled sideways to shift across. Sure enough, good thing he moved with the lateral step, or he would have been done for. The ruffian thrust once, then thrust again, both strikes missing.

Damn it, I really can’t let my guard down. I haven’t practiced swordsmanship while in Europe and America for a while; I’m rusty.

“Heh heh heh! Your skills are indeed quite good!”

Chen Jiehua steadied himself. Now was not the time to think about Old Zhao. Even if he went to kill Old Zhao first and then came after him, it would already be too late. Worrying would be useless. Better to get through his own trial first.

Only one of them would walk away alive.

The enemy’s swordsmanship was stronger than his; any lapse in concentration would be fatal.

His only advantage now was space.

He could not use a gun. Firing would draw the constables, and this was the International Settlement. But if he pulled a scalpel from the space and finished the man in one sudden strike, he would need to close in first.

It had to end quickly, and being seen would still be troublesome. The ruffian could kill an unlucky passerby without hesitation; Chen Jiehua could not.

Having made up his mind, Chen Jiehua suddenly burst forward with explosive speed, feigning a bare-handed rush as though he meant to wrest the sword away in close combat. But the other did not retreat. He jumped and brought the blade down in a one-handed chop. Chen Jiehua had no choice but to pull back his hand and twist aside to let the strike pass.

He had meant to force the man back, then answer with a thrust of his own, closing in to slit his throat. But the bastard refused to take the bait.

After dodging, Chen Jiehua did not pause. Before the other could recover his sword, he darted to the ruffian’s flank, flashed out the scalpel like lightning, and drew it across the man’s neck.

A killing blow.

Yet this strike, which should have been fatal, met a defense as if the other had already anticipated it. The sword in the right hand snapped back and blocked the scalpel’s path. After the screech of metal on metal, Chen Jiehua turned with the motion and settled into a defensive stance.

Damn it. So strong. Even my sure kill failed.

“Heh heh heh! You really do have something hidden!”

Unexpectedly, it seemed the other had truly anticipated the concealed scalpel. Chen Jiehua frowned again and stared at him, regulating his breathing while calculating his next line of attack. He could not be led around by the opponent. If the man wanted him to ask, then he simply would not ask.

Since the scalpel was already exposed, there was no need to hide anymore. He raised the starting stance of Yin Style.

Chen Jiehua’s presence changed in an instant.

The other sensed the shift in his opponent’s bearing and grew solemn as well, matching Shigen style’s starting posture against Yin style’s starting posture.

On Jesfield Road in Shanghai, November, the distant clock tower struck midnight.

With the first bell, both men moved almost simultaneously: a thrust against a diagonal slash. The ruffian’s thought was simple: his blade was longer. If he drove in with a thrust and dropped his shoulder, he could evade that strange little knife of the other man.

The second bell sounded together with a sharp report, and the ruffian’s body jolted.

No help for it. His blade was shorter, and his swordsmanship inferior. If he did not seize the advantage of the bells at a time like this, he would truly die here.

Chen Jiehua silently counted the seconds in his mind and timed it precisely to the third bell. Again, with a sharp crack, the second shot pinned into the ruffian’s chest. The ruffian cried out in pain, his sword flew from his hand, and he reached for his heart.

Having closed in successfully, Chen Jiehua dropped to one knee, pinning the ruffian’s other hand as blood gushed from his mouth. The scalpel rested against the man’s neck, and a Colt M1911A1 pressed against his skull.

“Who sent you!”

“Heh heh heh!”

With blood in his mouth, the ruffian gave three strange laughs, then let his head tilt and went still.

Damn. The second shot had been too accurate, dead center in the heart. There was no helping it. There wasn’t enough space to take the body away, so he would have to leave it in the street. And the answer he wanted still had not come.

Chen Jiehua found the ruffian’s sword and scabbard and put them into the space first. Then he dragged the corpse into a dark corner and searched it thoroughly, but found nothing at all.

After quickly clearing away the traces of the fight and his own footprints and shoe marks, Chen Jiehua looked around to make sure no one had noticed. Only then did he circle away from Jesfield Road and return to the pharmacy.

He could not go home now. First he needed to search around the pharmacy for traces of where the ruffian had been lurking, to see whether he had first gone after Zhao Shiyu or after Chen Jiehua himself.

Old Zhao’s life and death were still unknown, and Chen Jiehua was deeply worried.

In Shanghai in autumn and winter, the temperature swung sharply between day and night, alternating between damp and dry. On the middle of the night in November, fine beads of dew were evenly scattered over the blue bricks on the windowsill.

Found it.

There was one place with very little dew, clearly where someone had pressed against it. Following the pattern of the dew and footprints along the way, Chen Jiehua felt somewhat relieved.

The ruffian should have been alone. When they left, he had been lurking by the corner of the wall, and later he had chased after Chen Jiehua first.

But at this windowsill, with a room in between? The hidden chamber inside. He could actually hear it.

Still, that was partly his own fault. He had spoken too recklessly and driven Old Zhao to the brink.