Chapter 11: Cai Qing—Brother, Save Me—

When you’re out in the world, your identity is what you make of it.

Most importantly, Cai Fu understood that in the world of Water Margin, having a nickname was crucial. Establishing a memorable moniker meant that traveling the martial world could be twice as effective with half the effort.

Cai Fu’s original nickname, “Iron Arm,” was neither impressive nor cool. It lacked memorability and had no standout qualities—it was practically a worthless nickname.

Take Song Jiang’s nickname, “Timely Rain,” for example; it highlighted his defining trait. Whenever a hero in the martial world faced trouble, they would think of the “Timely Rain.” Or consider “Jade Qilin” Lu Junyi—a name brimming with prestige and style.

So Cai Fu carefully crafted two new nicknames for himself: one, “Surpassing Xuande,” to emphasize his unique selling point; the other, “Northern Blade King,” to boost his aura of grandeur.

Though self-bestowed, it didn’t matter. After killing Li Cheng, Cai Fu was confident the news would spread quickly.

With his left hand, he lifted Li Cheng’s severed head using Li’s own spear, while his right hand brandished the Ghost-Headed Blade. Letting out a fierce roar, Cai Fu bellowed:

“Li Cheng is dead! Whoever blocks me shall die!”

Cai Fu was born with a booming voice. His roar was like thunder crashing on a clear day, deafening and overwhelming.

The surrounding government soldiers, caught in their skirmish, shuddered and involuntarily gasped, the chill of death filling their lungs.

Dead! Li Dujian is truly dead!

Cai Qing snatched up a torch and held it high beside Cai Fu, the flickering flames outlining Cai Fu with a golden halo. The light also revealed the anguished whinnies of white horses on the ground and the blood-soaked heads impaled on spears.

The government troops fighting nearby saw this clearly, and their morale plummeted like stocks crashing to rock bottom.

“Li Cheng is dead! Whoever blocks me shall die!” Cai Qing shouted hoarsely beside Cai Fu.

Though he didn’t understand why Cai Fu was called the Northern Blade King, Cai Qing still did his best to spread the word for his elder brother.

Lu Junyi swung his two-meter steel spear like a giant windmill, cutting through the enemy ranks effortlessly, as if no moves were necessary.

Left sweep, right sweep—each stroke felling dozens, leaving none alive or making a sound.

While sweeping through the troops, Lu Junyi shouted loudly:

“Li Cheng is dead! Whoever blocks me shall die!”

The government soldiers’ morale teetered on the brink of collapse. Amid the chaos, a handsome young soldier screamed:

“Li Dujian is dead—we need to run!”

His shout and flight in the midst of the disorder sparked those around him to panic and flee. Running was contagious, especially since with Li Cheng dead, the government forces were already scattered and leaderless.

Thus, their morale shattered completely. Soldiers fell in disarray, crying out in desperation, abandoning their armor and weapons, fleeing in utter chaos.

“Kill!” Cai Fu pursued the fleeing government soldiers with murderous intent, holding Li Cheng’s head high in his left hand and swinging the Ghost-Headed Blade fiercely in his right.

“Kill!”

---

Lu Junyi, wielding his two-meter steel spear, was an unstoppable force among the defeated troops, cutting through them like a hot knife through butter, as if no one stood in his path.

Cai Fu and Lu Junyi targeted each other’s enemies, charging forward until they soon triumphantly reunited.

Meanwhile, the government forces left behind a hundred or two corpses as they fled.

“Brother!” Lu Junyi dismounted his horse, his body covered in blood, and grasped Cai Fu’s hand with excitement.

“We’ve succeeded!”

Before this, Lu Junyi had no battle experience and was unaware of his ability to fight like a one-man army.

Though he was bruised and battered—mostly superficial wounds—his fighting strength was certainly diminished, so he wasn’t confident.

Cai Fu, as Lu Junyi’s pillar of strength, had devised the “Lure the Tiger Away from the Mountain” strategy.

Executing Cai Fu’s plan successfully shattered the enemy, further convincing Lu Junyi of Cai Fu’s wisdom.

“Trust me, you won’t be wrong!” Cai Fu laughed heartily.

Just then, a shout came from behind—Cai Qing’s desperate cry:

“Brother, save me—”

What the hell?

Cai Fu hurriedly looked back to see three mounted youths circling and fighting around Cai Qing like a revolving lantern.

Cai Qing was overwhelmed, sustaining a wound, yet fought desperately to protect Zhou Tong.

“Stop!” Lu Junyi focused and shouted loudly:

“Three junior brothers, cease! We’re all friends here!”

The three mounted youths recognized Lu Junyi and halted, though they still surrounded Cai Qing.

A red-faced youth exclaimed:

“Big brother, the master has been knocked unconscious by this fellow!”

“Nonsense!” Lu Junyi and Cai Fu rushed over together, swinging the two-meter steel spear to force the three youths back.

“Brother, I feel ashamed...” Cai Qing smiled wryly at Cai Fu.

He had thought himself quite capable in battle, but never expected to be outmatched by three kids just eleven or twelve years old.

“No need to be ashamed!” Cai Fu embraced Cai Qing, soothing him kindly.

“They are all high disciples of Old Master Zhou, exceptional in martial skill...”

Hearing this, Cai Qing grew even more frustrated—was his beating just for nothing?

It turned out Cai Qing had been ordered to guard Zhou Tong, who had fainted.

When the three youths arrived, they saw a small prisoner guarding the unconscious Zhou Tong and immediately attacked.

Cai Qing didn’t know who they were and, being surrounded and beaten, could not explain himself.

By now, Lu Junyi had clarified the situation with the three youths, who quickly kowtowed:

“Thank you, heroes, for saving our master!

“We were blind and wrongly accused you—please forgive us!”

Cai Fu examined Cai Qing’s wound, which was thankfully only superficial, and Cai Qing forgave the three youths.

After all, it was a misunderstanding; ignorance is no crime, and Cai Qing was not a petty man.

Lu Junyi then awakened Zhou Tong, who opened his eyes and immediately asked:

“Are you injured?”

“Master, I’m fine!” Lu Junyi replied with concern.

“You are severely wounded. I will take you to Lichuan Mountain for Elder Zhiming to heal you,” Lu Junyi said.

Zhou Tong waved his hand and asked, “How is your younger junior brother?”

Lu Junyi glanced around, and a youth replied, “Big brother chased after the government troops...”

“Isn’t that him?” Someone pointed in the direction they indicated.

Sure enough, a youth spurred his horse, spear raised, charging toward them.

As he neared, the youth threw himself off his saddle, discarded his spear, and knelt before Zhou Tong, tears streaming down his face:

“I am unfilial—I failed to protect Father...”

Seeing the bloodied youth, Zhou Tong struggled to embrace him, tears flowing freely:

“Father is at fault...”

Lu Junyi knelt beside Zhou Tong, weeping like rain:

“It’s all my fault for being unfilial and inviting the government troops...”

“Enough crying!” Cai Fu had to step forward as the bearer of harsh truth.

“The government troops have been routed and fled, even Li Dujian, the Military Commissioner, died here. They will surely return.

“If they come again, it won’t be just a few hundred soldiers.

“Instead of mourning here and wallowing in self-pity, you’d better gather the villagers and flee this place quickly!”

Cai Fu’s words struck like thunder, instantly sobering Zhou Tong:

“You’re right. Let’s go!”

Lu Junyi habitually asked Cai Fu:

“Big brother, with so many villagers, where shall we go?”

Yue Fei shook his head:

“With so many villagers, women and children in tow...

“Even if we flee immediately, the government troops will catch up to us...”

Cai Fu pondered for two seconds.

“I have a plan!

“Just by doing so and so... we can turn danger into safety!”

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