"Washing hands in a golden basin isn't so simple!"
In the teahouse, an old man in a sheepskin jacket took a few puffs from his long pipe, shaking his head amid clouds of smoke. "This 'washing hands in a golden basin' originally referred to a ceremony held by boatmen delivering grain to the Han Dynasty's Chang'an palace. At the Wei River dock, they'd perform it to signify they'd finished their work for the officials."
"The golden basin wasn't real gold, but copper. Over time, the custom spread to all trades, and everyone adopted the practice."
The speaker was Old Donkey Head, a lifelong carter who'd traveled far and wide, seen much, and now, in his old age, frequented the Xianyang teahouse.
A crowd of idlers had gathered around, many clueless about martial world customs. One grinned, "Old Donkey Head, haven't you washed your hands in a golden basin years ago?"
"Bah!"
Old Donkey Head waved his hand. "This old man's just too old to keep at it, still scolding the young'uns daily. That's not washing hands. Quitting the trade entirely—that's washing hands in a golden basin."
"It's simple enough: you publicly declare you're done with that line of work, usually inviting peers to witness. With one less rival, they're naturally pleased, even sending a small gift to congratulate."
"Only the big shots in a trade have the clout to wash their hands. Some nobody trying it would just be a laughingstock, right?"
"Hahaha, true enough!"
The crowd burst into laughter.
A young nobleman, curious, asked, "The martial world's version of washing hands must be different, no?"
"Naturally."
Old Donkey Head sighed. "Where there are people, there's the martial world; where there's the martial world, there's grudges. If you're a bandit chief with blood on your hands, can those debts be erased just by saying so?"
"Even if the victims agree, the authorities won't!"
"It's the same for those running martial schools. You can wash your hands, but some debts must be settled. If someone doesn't acknowledge it, it doesn't count."
"How do they not acknowledge it?"
"In the martial world, when words fail, fists talk. All grudges must be cleared—that's washing hands."
The crowd suddenly understood.
"So that's how it is!"
"No wonder it's causing such a stir."
"Zhou the Monkey wants to wash his hands? He won't make it through."
"How won't he? Who could beat him?"
"They'd just hire help…"
The crowd buzzed with discussion, but the nobleman shook his head. "This rule's ridiculous. If there's a grudge, take revenge. Can an oath really stop it?"
Old Donkey Head took a few more puffs, saying meaningfully, "The martial world's rules endure for a reason."
"The martial world ages quickly. No matter who you are, there comes a time you can't hold on…"
…
"Zhou has no choice but to retire."
In the Zhang Clan Martial Academy, after a disciple served tea and left, Master Zhang spoke with a gleeful grin. "His luck's run dry. No matter how skilled Zhou the Monkey is, he can only admit defeat."
Li Yan sipped his tea. "Chang'an's settled things?"
It was sudden, so the root of it must've gone wrong.
"Exactly."
Master Zhang chuckled. "Lord Li's star is rising! Seems the Li family's fleet earned great merit, and the Emperor himself decreed a promotion. There's even talk of entering the court."
"That Left Counselor Lu Kang? He's lost all hope. He pulled some strings before, but to save himself, he's had to resign and return home."
"People scheme a hundred ways, but they can't outmatch fate!"
Li Yan had no interest in the scheming of officials and said gravely, "Zhou Pan's washing his hands. What's your stance?"
Master Zhang shook his head. "Lord Li suffered plenty too, but to show magnanimity, he didn't pursue it, even petitioning the court for a commemorative arch for Lu's family. We can't be too harsh either."
"The River Gang and Taihang Carriage Company care about profit. As long as Zhou's family quietly leaves Xianyang and hands over some territory, they'll stay silent…"
"The martial seniors mostly feared Zhou's dominance would oppress them. Now that the clouds have cleared, they're not eager to stir up grudges…"
"Only Senior Luo Shihai insists Zhou's family hand over the culprit from back then."
Li Yan glanced over. "And your Zhang family?"
Master Zhang smirked. "My father's been chosen as the next president of Xianyang's Divine Fist Association. Why kick a man when he's down? Spare when you can, right?"
"Tch."
Sha Lifei, annoyed by his smugness, couldn't help but sneer. "You got your benefits, so you're generous. When Zhou's family ruined others, did they think to spare anyone?"
"What about the victims? No one's causing trouble?"
Master Zhang, unfazed, paused and shook his head. "You're a martial man too. How can you say that?"
"Zhou Pan's washing his hands to appease Xianyang's major forces. If victims come knocking, it's his chance to settle grudges. What's he got to fear?"
"The martial world, in the end, respects the biggest fist…"
Sha Lifei, choked by the retort, muttered curses and fell silent.
Li Yan said calmly, "Since you've made your decision, why call me here?"
Master Zhang said, "Didn't you cripple Zhou Bai? Even his father, Zhou Peide, is in jail. My father thinks it's a chance to clear the air, avoid future trouble."
"He wants you to join the Divine Fist Association, train a few years, then open a martial school or escort agency, earning a legacy for the Li family, honoring the old ties."
Li Yan was surprised but, after a pause, shook his head. "Thank Senior Zhang for me, but I can't comply."
Master Zhang was stunned. "Why not?"
Li Yan sipped his tea, his face calm. "My fists aren't big, but I'm one of the victims too!"
…
September 6th, suitable for gatherings and alliances, unsuitable for burials.
"Hurry, hang the lanterns!"
"Where's the fish?"
"The boatmen said the Wei River's been odd lately, barely any fish. They've gone to other rivers to catch some—they'll make it in time."
"Check they don't pass off dead fish."
"Where's Uncle-Master Wang Yao?"
"Said the clinic's too busy to leave."
"Nonsense! Doesn't he know what day this is? He's clearly…"
"Ugh, forget it. Tell Master."
Outside the Zhou Clan Martial Academy, disciples bustled about.
Everyone knew what today was.
They rushed around, but their eyes held a trace of confusion.
When a tree falls, the monkeys scatter—so it was with the Zhou family.
These past days, nearly half the academy's disciples had left. Those remaining were loyal but couldn't help feeling anxious, unsure of the future.
They recalled the last time the Zhou family was this lively—Mid-Autumn Festival. The Eight Great Guardians gathered, and martial schools, escort agencies, even court officials sent gifts.
Back then, they'd hired a Chang'an opera troupe.
Under the bright moon, with esteemed guests and joy abound.
Who could've imagined things would crumble so fast?
Of the Eight Great Guardians, Zheng Xianhuai's entire family was dead, Zhou Peide faced execution after autumn, Yuan Qu and Zheng Heibei fled, reportedly dead for colluding with demons, their assets seized.
Wang Yao from the clinic and Liu Jincheng from the escort agency claimed they were too busy to come, clearly distancing themselves from Zhou Pan—they still had to make a living in Xianyang.
Today, only two of the Eight Great Guardians showed up, both Zhou family members.
The collapse was so swift they could barely process it.
Many were already scheming. After Zhou Pan washed his hands, he'd likely take the Zhou family back to their hometown to settle.
These disciples, who'd once strutted under Zhou's influence, had made enemies. After today, Xianyang might no longer be a place for them.
Outside the Zhou gates, a crowd of onlookers gathered, gawking.
They pointed and whispered, faces brimming with schadenfreude.
The academy's disciples, seeing this, were furious.
In the past, with Zhou's power, these people wouldn't dare come near. Now they had the gall to act like this.
Yet no one stepped forward to argue.
After today, with Zhou's fall, they'd be rootless drifters. No one would back them in a conflict.
Better to avoid trouble.
Soon, the auspicious hour arrived, firecrackers sounded, and guests arrived as promised.
A disciple at the gate announced loudly:
"Clear Spring Martial Academy's Master Liu arrives!"
"Prosperity Escort Agency's Chief Li arrives!"
"Taihang Carriage Company's Chief Qin arrives!"
"River Gang's Leader Han arrives!"
"Zhang Clan Martial Academy's Grandmaster Zhang arrives!"
"Yamen's Constable Guan arrives!"
The onlookers weren't surprised.
For Zhou Pan's hand-washing, all the notable figures of Xianyang's martial world came.
Of course, those with shallow ties and no grudges would send a small gift out of courtesy—present or not, the gesture was made.
What they wanted to see was whether anyone would cause a scene today!
*(End of Chapter)*