【Editor’s Note】

Dear Readers,

Since the start of New Epoch Year 26, “Jianghu Affairs” magazine has launched a new Q&A column—Zifu.

This column aims to solve all the world’s mysteries and is open to all your questions. Each issue, we will select the most challenging question for expert responses.

As the most popular and enduring magazine in Jianghu, “Jianghu Affairs” invites experts from all walks of life to share their insights here. Common folks can also freely express their thoughts and write their best answers.

After careful selection, the most outstanding responses will be published in the next issue along with a new question.

【Last Issue’s Zifu Question】

I hear your magazine is unparalleled. Do you dare to publish my question?

Thirty years ago, Fuyang City turned to dust in a day, with no survivors. What happened that day? Is Hero Long a criminal?

【Inquirer’s Statement】

Bringing up this old case nearly thirty years later might seem laughable to some. But without knowing the truth, I can’t face my wife and children in the afterlife.

I am from Fuyang. In Mingchang Year 19, when the time travelers started a war with the court, I was studying abroad. I heard that a group of crazy time travelers had occupied Fuyang, and all communication ceased. I was desperate with worry.

Months later, news came that the court had finally reclaimed Fuyang, and the gates were open.

Rushing back on a rented horse, I found no city, only ruins. A group of court soldiers stood under the scorching sun, burning piles of corpses to prevent disease. My entire family had turned to ashes, along with the once bustling city.

Nearly all the townspeople perished.

My mother often prayed to the Bodhisattva, hoping the court would quickly quell the chaos so we could live in peace.

They were just ordinary people, so why were they all gone when the city was reclaimed?

The soldiers, annoyed by my questions, said, “In the chaos of war, it’s inevitable that innocents suffer.”

—What kind of guns and what kind of chaos could turn an entire city into a pile of bones and ashes? What mistake made during this divine battle took my family?

For years, I investigated and finally learned that the time travelers were defeated that day because of an inside agent in the city. This agent planted explosives in the city, coordinating with the attacking soldiers, blowing Fuyang to the ground, without regard for the civilians.

It is said that this “agent” was the renowned Hero Long. Some soldiers saw him in the city, and others saw him wildly shooting arrows.

Hero Long.

The name of the number one martial artist is well-known. According to my investigation, after the Fuyang incident, dozens of people claimed to have seen him in the time travelers’ ranks, always leading the charge in every battle.

Why would a Jianghu person meddle in court affairs?

If he was a court spy, why would he switch sides to the time travelers?

I cannot understand him, cannot predict his motives, nor can I find out what role he played in this. The mystery has been debated, but no convincing evidence has emerged.

Time has passed, and I am now half in the grave. Even if I discover the truth, I doubt I can seek revenge.

Though disheartened, I heard about your Zifu column and its many high-profile contributors revealing hidden truths.

Although expecting to uncover a mystery through written questions is far-fetched, I still dare to try and hope to see it published.

Best regards,

Zhong Lingyun, aka Bocheng, Special Columnist for “Jianghu Affairs,” Historian

Thank you for the invitation.

First, my condolences to the inquirer’s family. The great disaster thirty years ago, which caused countless deaths, should serve as a lesson for future generations.

I have no personal connection to Hero Long, only hearing of his strength and handsome appearance. After the New Epoch began, rumors said he wandered the Jianghu, his character unknown. But I sent the question to a swordsman friend who has met Hero Long and might know something.

Now, for my subjective analysis as a historian.

In conclusion: Hero Long is suspicious. Even if he is very strong and handsome.

(Please read my entire response before rebutting!)

The inquirer couldn’t find Hero Long’s motive because it was well-hidden. During the Fuyang incident, he might not have been serving either side.

The inquirer might find this unbelievable, so let me explain.

Historical records show that the “time travelers” were suppressed by the previous emperor. But the “Pioneer Group” of time travelers hid in the mountains until Mingchang Year 17, finally raising the flag of revolution.

Why wait until this year? Because they had no money. Without money, they couldn’t produce advanced weapons or supplies.

That year, they found a benefactor, an investor.

We now know that the benefactor behind the Pioneer Group was Prince Yu, Zhou Rongqi. (His love-hate relationship with the former emperor Zhou Jingyi is enough for a book; follow my Zifu column for more.)

With Prince Yu’s support, the Pioneer Group rapidly gained power, capturing eight cities and threatening Guanzhong. But they soon faced supply shortages, pausing their offensive to recuperate.

These few months of recuperation were the court’s last hope. The Pioneer Group’s arsenal was in Fuyang. As the emperor, what would you order? Attack Fuyang to cut off their supply. Blowing up the city gates with insiders and explosives fits Zhou Jingyi’s style.

But as the inquirer said, many later claimed to have seen Hero Long in the time travelers’ ranks, which seems genuine. Was this hero a two-timer?

There is another possibility.

The inquirer seems to think Hero Long was either with the court or the Pioneer Group. But we often overlook that the time travelers later split into “radicals” and “moderates.”

Although unproven, the moderates’ leader, the Tower Master, might have joined Martial Arts Alliance Leader Lin Kai by then. These two seemed uninvolved during the Pioneer Group’s revolution, but who knows when they started planning?

In the Fuyang incident, both sides suffered heavy losses, each claiming righteousness and accusing the other of killing innocents. Who benefitted from this? Who took in refugees and gained followers?

In short, I believe Hero Long blew up Fuyang first, then fought for the time travelers under the Martial Arts Alliance’s orders. As a weak third party, they had to be ruthless to survive. His stance never changed; he was just good at hiding it.

This is just a strategic analysis without evidence. Even if the inquirer seeks evidence, it may not exist, even for those involved.

But we still need to hear from my friend who knew Hero Long.

Also, why can’t we find Hero Long’s full name? Is his surname really Long, and his given name Daxia? The Martial Arts Alliance has unique names.

Shen Huaishan, Swordsman, Former Bodyguard, Senior Driver for Yu Yu Car Service

Thank you for the invitation.

I read Bocheng’s question and response thoroughly. But I strongly disagree with her conclusion. I have another suspect in mind.

I have no evidence, but I do have a story.

Undoubtedly, Hero Long was in Fuyang during the incident. Because I drove him there.

First, let me tell you about Hero Long.

Everyone knows Hero Long is not only skilled but also extremely handsome.

He’s also very wealthy.

Most importantly, he has an unshakeable sense of justice from an unknown source.

Jianghu people aren’t like scholars, living by the blade and rarely thinking about morality.

Those who do are usually weaklings.

Hero Long, who could easily live by violence, insisted on his morals. Such people are rare in the world.

When I was a bodyguard, he once helped me out of a tight spot, and we became acquainted. Later, after some personal issues, I became a taxi driver, but we still drank together occasionally. So I know roughly what he was thinking then.

When time travelers began to flood into Daliang, bringing guns and ammunition, the martial world was shaken.

No sword skill is faster than a bullet, no internal strength can withstand cannon fire. Martial arts seemed like a joke overnight; only science and technology could dominate.

People panicked, feeling their world collapse.

Some hotheads fought the time travelers twice, only to be annihilated both times. Their guns were unmatched by any martial skill. Jianghu people had no national aspirations, so they quickly discarded their swords for firearms.

Unlike us carefree wanderers, Hero Long was heartbroken and sleepless.

He refused to touch guns and ammo. He had an unreasonable sense of justice and often told me, “The heavens and the earth, the emperor and parents, these time travelers are no different from barbarians.”

One day, Hero Long asked me to drive him to Fuyang.

He could have ridden a horse faster, but he had a non-martial companion with him.

That was the last time I saw Hero Long. We got drunk, and he told me, “This trip is dangerous; I’m prepared to die.”

He was going to assassinate someone.

But not for the Martial Arts Alliance.

That year, he had already fallen out with the Martial Arts Alliance.

I can confirm Bocheng’s guess that Lin Kai and the Tower Master were planning something big. The Tower Master was nearly assassinated by the emperor and was saved by Lin Kai’s people, including me. The Tower Master then joined Lin Kai as his advisor.

The Tower Master is unpredictable. He often claimed to have grand ambitions but ultimately wanted to lie on a pile of gold and live carefree. In troubled times, this dream seemed unattainable. The emperor was unreliable, so he bet on Lin Kai. He didn’t

 care about the time travelers vs. natives’ millennium war. A dangerous genius.

Lin Kai likely saw the Tower Master’s hidden ambition, thinking he could achieve great things. In peaceful times, his ambition was limited to being the martial arts leader. In chaos, it grew.

Their strategy was to be the third party profiting from the chaos.

The court had some strategizing time travelers who also developed guns and advised that without mass production, they couldn’t match the time travelers’ superior firepower. But the treasury was depleted, and the emperor distrusted these outsiders, enforcing strict military supply controls. With war imminent, who could wait?

The Pioneer Group also faced severe supply shortages. Their guns were still flawed, rapidly depleting their ammo stockpiles.

The Martial Arts Alliance began making a fortune in the arms trade.

Building factories.

Taking in refugees.

Mass production.

Selling to both sides.

Making a fortune.

Everyone was happy.

Except for one person.

Hero Long argued fiercely with Lin Kai and the Leader, almost coming to blows. Hero Long said, “Helping the court eliminate the rebels is a matter of principle. What the Martial Alliance is doing is treason!”

The Leader responded with, “You don’t get it,” a phrase whose meaning was unclear.

In a fit of anger, Hero Long left the Martial Alliance alone, planning to assassinate the leader of the Expansion Group by himself.

He did not tell me his specific plan. I took him to the outskirts of Fuyang City, where we parted ways.

But knowing Hero Long, even if he hated the Expansion Group to the core, he would never choose to “flatten Fuyang,” which would harm innocent civilians. I personally believe someone else did it. And that person was right beside Hero Long.

As mentioned earlier, Hero Long brought a follower who couldn’t fight.

This, in itself, is suspicious.

The follower was named Qian Zhenduo. According to Hero Long, he was a little brother he picked up while traveling in disguise. Later, when the little brother learned his true identity, he followed him faithfully.

Qian Zhenduo was handsome, always diligently attending to Hero Long, but his eyes darted around suspiciously. I once wondered why Hero Long would bring him on such a dangerous mission. Later, I learned it was because he noticed Hero Long leaving the Martial Alliance decisively and felt something was wrong, so he insisted on following.

I was somewhat wary of this person. Halfway through the journey, I found an opportunity to get Hero Long drunk to extract information. Unexpectedly, Hero Long said to me, “In these turbulent times, there is no absolute safety. I agreed to let him come to ensure his safety for a while.”

For a mere follower, Hero Long went so far as to say “ensure his safety for a while.”

I was puzzled and asked, “What’s special about him?”

Hero Long replied, “There is something. In this life, countless people have admired my looks and demeanor, respected my martial arts and status, and appreciated my knowledge and conversation, yearning to travel with me. Only he is different. Only he has always loved my money. After all the hard work I’ve done to earn so much money, only he doesn’t see it as dirt…”

The last sentence echoed in my mind for days.

I’m not Hero Long, so I don’t understand his way of thinking.

However, I found Qian Zhenduo too suspicious.

Thinking positively, even if he had some loyalty to Hero Long, what would happen if he met someone wealthier one day?

Thinking negatively, what if he approached Hero Long with a mission from the start?

Hero Long might have a kind heart, but that doesn’t mean the people around him do.

My intuition tells me this person is not simple. Otherwise, why would he insist on following even knowing it was a suicide mission?

Additionally, I agree that Hero Long served the Martial Alliance in subsequent battles. As for why he made this change and whether it was related to the Fuyang incident, I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since.

I hope the editorial department can find people who had contact with Hero Long or Qian Zhenduo in Fuyang City back then and clear Hero Long’s name.

Also: Hero Long is just a title, similar to the Divine Eagle Hero. His ancestral surname is Ding, and his real name is Ding Ri.

【Charlie Norman, Engineer, Not Good at Chinese】

I believe my story might help the inquirer a bit.

One thing I can assure you: the person you described is indeed guilty.

Because I met him and his companion in Fuyang City, although they never revealed their real names until the end. I can even say that I developed some friendship with them.

Oh, you might think, here comes another annoying guy who talks nonsense.

To dispel your doubts, let me introduce myself first.

My name is Charlie, from early 21st-century Great Britain.

I will always remember the summer I graduated from university when I traveled to China with friends. I was hit by a truck on my way back to the hotel after a pleasant day.

When I opened my eyes again, I almost didn’t recognize myself.

You could remove “almost”—I, a blond, blue-eyed British man, not only arrived in this fantasy world but also turned into a yellow-skinned person with long black hair, standing on a crooked street with horse-drawn carriages.

A kind lady nearby asked me something, but I didn’t understand her language and didn’t know how to respond. The only Chinese phrase I knew was “How are you?” taught by the tour guide.

I was panic-stricken and about to run, screaming, but someone beat me to it.

It was like watching a postmodern movie; everyone on the street started screaming and running.

Boom! Boom! Sounds came from a distance, followed by a group of men in ancient military uniforms riding horses, converging in the middle of the street and putting on a bloody massacre right in front of me.

Later, after I could understand some Chinese, I realized that this was a historic event. On that day, the time travelers captured eight cities, including Fuyang, turning them into the stronghold of the Expansion Group.

I guess they reached some agreement with the local gentry, allowing them to build roads, manufacture weapons, and accelerate modernization within the city. The closed city walls became like the Berlin Wall, with submissive natives becoming second-class citizens. Those who dared to resist were flogged to death.

And me, you might ask? Before I understood everything, I naturally became a construction worker.

I couldn’t speak or understand others, so I was naturally treated as a dummy. Every day, I was ordered around, carrying bricks, eating, and sleeping.

I didn’t know what kind of project I was involved in. I just saw the roads in the city being paved wider day by day, with carts transporting metal, fuel, and wood back and forth, and the city building several square-shaped factories. It’s funny that I thought at the time, “Chinese architecture of this period looks so 21st-century.”

The turning point happened on an ordinary day.

While carrying bricks, I accidentally dropped one on my toe and cursed.

Everyone knows that when cursing, it’s most natural to use your mother tongue.

“Shit,” I said.

A passing supervisor looked at me. I quickly lowered my head, pretending to work hard, but he walked straight towards me.

The supervisor asked, “What did you say?”

I could already understand him but pretended not to and shook my head. He asked again, “Don’t play dumb. What did you say?”

I shook my head.

Then I heard him ask, “Do you speak Chinese?”

I was scared stiff.

On that day, I was taken to the Expansion Group’s office. They selected a time traveler with a high level of English to communicate with me.

In short, we signed a contract.

My university major was civil engineering. They needed my technical help to build weapons factories. In exchange, I asked them to fund a ship for me.

A large sailing ship capable of ocean travel.

If you are a time traveler and have felt lonely in this world, imagine my feelings. I was facing loneliness squared.

My hometown was unimaginably far away. If I couldn’t return, I at least wanted to see what this world and this era’s Great Britain were like, and talk to my ancestors, using our mother tongue.

Although Daliang had sturdy tower ships, they were only suitable for river warfare and were far from being capable of ocean travel. As an outsider, I could only refer to all the information I could find and rely on the little visual impressions I brought from the modern world, struggling to improve step by step.

Since becoming the chief engineer, my status in the city had significantly improved. The time travelers gave me new clothes and set me up in a nice house. A girl from the neighboring pastry shop even winked at me upon hearing my name. This had never happened to me before, in either life.

Although the time travelers showed some interest in my shipbuilding project—perhaps because it reminded them of some historical events from their time—they didn’t need an ocean-going navy in the foreseeable future. My project was purely a money pit, naturally causing me immense pressure every day.

It was during this time that I met the two friends mentioned earlier.

I have no doubt that Hero Long was highly skilled; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to infiltrate the city at that time. They appeared before me, claiming to be residents and requesting to work in the factory. I approved their request. As a former brick mover, I had compassion for these enslaved natives.

The small one’s name was Qian, and his tall, handsome friend claimed to be named Ding at the time.

I soon discovered their uniqueness.

Ding’s strength far exceeded his appearance. I saw him single-handedly lift what others would carry in three trips, walking leisurely. However, he later learned to conceal this after understanding the normal strength of ordinary people.

Qian, on the other hand, was the opposite, weak and unable to carry anything, with Ding silently doing most of his work. Qian spent most of his time fanning and serving Ding, and the rest wandering around the factory, talking to people. He always had a fawning expression that wasn’t annoying, with eyes like a puppy. Later, I learned a fitting term: sycophant.

He was energetic, very active, and full of curiosity about the time travelers’ world. Within days, he persuaded me to show them the ship I was building.

“Oh my, look at this!” he said, caressing the sails with emotion (maybe not in this tone; I can’t remember), “If this big guy can sail, trading with those small countries outside, imagine the wealth it could bring us!”

His companion was clearly displeased.

Qian continued, “Seriously, look around us. Even a small pen has such a

 market. If we recreate those thousand-year-old products and sell them everywhere, there will be endless… ” His companion cut him off with a somber face, “It’s against the natural order.”

My Chinese wasn’t good, and I habitually pretended to be deaf and dumb.

No one avoided talking in front of me.

Qian awkwardly glanced at me and whispered back, “Even if you dislike the time travelers, technology is innocent…”

Technology is innocent. He sounded like a wise time traveler. Unfortunately, such people were too rare.

Qian was a passionate young man, often chatting with me enthusiastically, using gestures.

I could sense Ding’s disapproval of Qian getting too close to me, but surprisingly, when Qian did, Ding didn’t object. Perhaps because my status could provide them with valuable information.

Due to the urgent need for military supplies, the factory started operating halfway through construction. The operational part was completely separated by curtains, inaccessible and invisible to outsiders. Occasionally, the leaders of the Expansion Group would come for night inspections, during which all workers were cleared out, leaving only me and a few leaders to tour.

The head of the Expansion Group was a kind-looking woman named Jiao Jiaoran. She mostly gave the orders, but once, I saw the legendary man standing behind her.

A truly beautiful and terrifying person. Even though he remained silent, the pressure around him made me very uncomfortable. If someone told me he ordered the massacre before retreating, I wouldn’t be surprised.

Years later, I learned that Jiao was just the CEO; that man was the shareholder behind everything.

But at the time, I could only share the information I knew with my friends.

When Ding found out the leader was a woman, he fell silent for a while. In retrospect, he probably struggled to convince himself to kill a woman.

I suspected that Qian didn’t know Ding’s entire plan. He seemed to be enjoying himself, wandering around the city, often coming to my house for meals, sharing the small sweet cakes brought by the neighboring girl, and teasingly probing into my love life.

One day, lying on my deck, watching me work, he asked, “Will you marry?”

“What? Of course not!” I said, “I’m destined to leave.”

“How many more years will you stay?”

I slowly straightened up, looking at the mast, and said, “It’s hard to say because I don’t know how to succeed in modifying it. Maybe a year, maybe a lifetime.”

“Ever thought of giving up?” he asked.

“I don’t mind spending my life here. But at least building this ship makes me feel like I’m on my way home.”

Qian looked thoughtful.

In the following days, the atmosphere between him and Ding was tense. I thought they had some dispute because a few days later, I overheard Qian telling Ding in the factory, “They’re not all bad people… Brother, you’re a very good person, righteous. But this time, listen to me, stay here. We can live well. Even if… I can do business.”

The part he omitted was probably something particularly hurtful, like “Now that guns are everywhere, you’re just an outdated hero about to starve.”

Ding couldn’t fully hide his pained expression. He said, “Xiao Qian, is this how you see me?”

Qian seemed determined and said, “We are in the current, we can’t go against it…”

“This current shouldn’t drown our people!” Ding said, eyes red.

With my level of Chinese, I couldn’t decipher their riddles.

But now, years later, I can imagine Ding’s feelings—when he saw his era slowly coming to an end, being carried to its conclusion by a swift river; the world suddenly becoming strange, and all “his kind” having to survive under the watchful eyes of “the others”… What was he feeling as he watched all this?

For a long time afterward, the two of them were in a cold war. Qian stopped wandering around and only forced a smile when he saw me. He started clumsily carrying his share of the bricks until Ding, unable to bear it, silently lent a hand.

This strange interaction continued until Qian came to visit me again.

“You’ve looked unhappy lately. Why don’t you come over for a drink tomorrow night? Bring Ding along.”

“Sure,” Qian said with a smile, “tomorrow night?”

“After the hour of Xu, when I get off work, is that okay?”

He asked, “Do you have to work overtime?” I hesitated, deciding to trust him: “Yes, tomorrow is the day of the leadership inspection, I have to accompany them.” Qian blinked but didn’t respond further.

The next evening, I found him hiding outside the factory, crying.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where’s Ding?” I asked.

Qian shook his head: “I just heard an old man with a back injury tell his coworkers that once the court recovers this place, they can go home. And I thought of what you said on the ship… you all miss home…”

I was at a loss, not expecting him to cry over something like this: “Do you miss home too?”

He shook his head, then calmed himself: “It’s nothing, I just get sentimental a few days every month.” Suddenly, he asked, “Can I come with you tonight? You know, I’m very curious about everything about the time travelers, but Brother Ding always stops me.”

I agreed, but strangely, he didn’t seem any happier because of it.

If only I had understood his inner struggle at that time. But I was just foolishly raising a vague suspicion, secretly arranging for two more guards to accompany me.

So, everything was too late.

That night, Qian clung closely to me, almost attaching himself to my body. I laughed and asked, “Is it really necessary to be so nervous?”

“It is,” he said without hesitation.

Jiao appeared, accompanied by several time traveler subordinates and guards. After greeting them, I lifted the curtain that divided half of the factory and led them to the newly developed assembly line.

“This section requires manual assembly…” I was explaining when I suddenly felt Qian trembling all over behind me.

The suspicion in my heart grew stronger. I turned to look at him, but he didn’t avoid my gaze. Instead, he stared at me eagerly.

I pulled him aside: “What’s wrong with you?”

He actually grabbed my hand back: “You must not leave me more than a step away.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned.

He trembled as he whispered, “I only learned of his plan yesterday… you have guns, he can’t beat you, so he wants to blow this place up… and then surrender.”

“Who? Ding?”

He nodded: “He’s been waiting for this opportunity. I… I told him, but I regretted it. I can’t let him die, nor can I watch you die. If he sees me here, he won’t act—”

Before he finished speaking, my vision blurred as if a magician had waved a cloak.

A figure flashed past me like a ghost, and when I looked closely, Qian was already gone.

I knew Ding was strong, possibly a martial arts master, but I couldn’t imagine how skilled he was. Even with Qian, an adult man, in tow, I swear he was out of the curtain in the next second. I only heard Qian’s tearful cry, “Brother!”

If the time travelers had swords, Ding would have already won.

Unfortunately, they had guns.

In my memory, everything was compressed into five seconds.

In the first second, the fluttering curtain had not yet fallen when a gunshot rang out.

In the second second, I saw Ding stagger, blood seeping from his back.

In the third second, Qian screamed hoarsely, rushing towards Ding with incredible speed, desperately shielding him.

In the fourth second, there were two more gunshots.

And then, in the fifth second, an explosion occurred.

White light covered my eyes, my body flew up like a feather, and steel, bricks, and air were churned into a muddy whirlpool, spinning and throwing me out.

Then I lost consciousness.

Sadly, dear inquirer, my story ends here.

If I had remained conscious, perhaps I could have witnessed what happened next, just like when I first arrived in this world.

If I had seen everything, perhaps I could clearly answer your question, and my own: why would Hero Long, who was willing to risk his life for his compatriots, choose to blow up the entire city? If he had planned to massacre the city from the start, why choose a time when the assembly line workers had all left?

However, if I had not passed out at that time, I might not be alive to write this answer now.

Because when I woke up—you won’t believe this—I was wearing a blood-stained armor.

This armor protected me, leading others to mistake me for a fallen soldier, sparing me from the subsequent bullets and artillery. It wasn’t until other soldiers lifted my “corpse” that I suddenly woke up.

The bad news is, I lost my hearing after that. The explosion was too close, I guess.

The good news is, I mingled with the soldiers until I found a chance to escape and have been alive ever since. Just last month, my ship was finally completed and has successfully passed three short voyages. I plan to set sail this year, heading to that possibly existent homeland.

I still can’t figure out who put that armor on me that day. But recently, I finally began to understand Qian’s tears at that time. He foresaw that between me and the old man with the back injury, at most, only one could go home. Countless others, countless people like you, would never have a home again.

In chaotic times, the line between good and evil, right and wrong, is too blurred. Often, the choices you believe to be right may simply transfer the right to live from one group to another.

I never saw Qian or Ding again, not knowing if they survived or went home.

【Wang Zhao, Master Chef at Wang’s BBQ, Food Writer, Saving the World Through Taste】

Survivors from Fuyang are few and far between, and I happen to be one of them.

After I woke up, my mind was blank, and I had lost that part of my memory. The doctor said it was common and not to worry, and that forgetting might be a blessing.

For over a decade, I gradually saw some fragmented scenes and some inexplicable moments in my half-dreams. I never spoke of this to anyone, burying it forever under the ruins of my hometown.

Until yesterday, while drinking and flipping through “Jianghu Affairs,” I happened to read the inquirer’s description, and those fragmented scenes finally connected.

Time flies, and those who knew the whole truth back then are probably already in their graves. I can only give an extremely irresponsible guess: the person who blew up the south factory and the one who leveled the entire Fuyang may not be the same person.

I must emphasize that this is just a piece of rescue memory I pieced together after thirty years, mixed with who knows how many hallucinations and speculations. I can’t guarantee its truth, only hope it offers some help to the inquirer.

1. Back then, I was the son of a butcher in Fuyang and knew everyone in the city. Those I didn’t know were outsiders.
2. On the day of the incident, the order of explosions was peculiar. The military factory in the south blew up first, exploding twice in succession. Moments later, four more explosions were heard from other directions. Besides the south factory, Fuyang had four other key locations: two other armories, the grain depot in the north, and the Expansion Group’s office.
3. After the explosions, the soldiers took advantage of the chaos to advance. My mother saw the military flags, tears of joy streaming down her face, and just as she shouted, “We’re saved,” she was shot in the head by the soldiers.
4. My house was near the south factory. After it was leveled, the view was clear. Lying under my mother’s body, I saw someone (an outsider I didn’t recognize, possibly the Hero Long you mentioned) rise from the ruins of the south factory, frantically digging through the rubble until he uncovered another person covered in blood. The one he dug out had their eyes closed; I couldn’t see the face clearly and didn’t know if they were unconscious or dead.
5. Suddenly, soldiers started shooting at them, shouting something about “time travelers blending in with refugees, orders from above, leave none alive.” The outsider was stunned, then went even crazier, shouting at the soldiers. I don’t remember what he did next, only that he killed those soldiers and got shot a few times himself.
6. I thought he was done for, but he staggered for a moment, then slowly, very slowly, picked up a gun from the ground. He stared at the trigger for a long time, then raised his head and fired a shot into the sky. For some reason, that action became the clearest memory in my dreams.
7. Then he carried the wounded (or corpse) on one shoulder, holding the gun in the other hand, and walked towards the city gate. At that time, the time travelers started their counterattack, with

 both sides not caring about the lives of civilians, shooting and bombing indiscriminately, but none of it touched him. He slowly walked out of my sight, disappearing into the smoke.

8. Then another person crawled out of the south factory ruins. I recognized her as the sister from the city’s pastry shop, known as the Flower Pastry Beauty. She held a gun (I thought I was seeing things) and wore the court’s armor (maybe another hallucination), looking as clean and pretty as ever, completely unlike someone who had just been through an explosion. She walked a few steps, then stopped. Like the previous outsider, she stood there for a long time, then suddenly took off her armor and draped it over someone on the ground (I couldn’t see the face).
9. Before she could straighten up, a shell exploded, blowing her into two pieces, right beside the person.
10. Then I passed out. When I woke again, I was in a refugee camp, surrounded by children my age. The court said the time travelers ordered the city massacre, while the time travelers said the court killed indiscriminately. The surviving children were dazed, unable to explain anything. The events and the city turned to dust together.

I don’t know the Hero Long you mentioned.

Looking back now, my recognition of the Flower Pastry Beauty might have been wishful thinking.

Who was he? Who was she? Why did they put on battle armor? Why did they pick up the guns? Why did they stop at the brink of life and death?

Did the person he carried survive? Where did they go?

For these questions, there may never be answers.

Since then, until today, I have never tasted a flower pastry like those from my hometown. Yet every time I dream, I seem to taste its sweetness, and I see that girl in the shop, smiling like a flower.

【Liu Shuyin, A Resembled Cultural Person】

At the time of the Fuyang incident, I was not yet born, and what I later heard were all sorts of mixed rumors, so I won’t comment much. I have only one anecdote that might be reliable, from a sworn brother of my cousin.

That man was a martial artist, often boasting in my childhood about serving in the Martial Alliance and even dining with Leader Lin and Hero Long. Thinking carefully, the time he mentioned should be after the Fuyang battle, when the Martial Alliance was settling refugees everywhere. If what he said was true, at least it proves Hero Long was indeed in the Martial Alliance at that time.

He claimed to have been in Hero Long’s study and saw a newly written character hanging on the wall, said to be Hero Long’s own writing.

My acquaintance was a brute, recognizing only the words “killing people,” which scared him, thinking the hero was truly terrifying, and he would avoid him from then on. Later, he heard literate people in the alliance read it, saying the words were: “Kill to save, kill if necessary, fight to end war, fight if necessary.”

It was said that the writing was sharp as a sword, each word filled with a chilling aura.

My acquaintance always thought that Hero Long, with such intense battle intent, would sooner or later die gloriously on the battlefield. If not dead, he should wear the emperor’s robe and be remembered in history. But when the dust settled and the new era began, Hero Long was nowhere to be found.

Some said he was dead. Others said he quietly retired for unknown reasons. Having dominated half his life, his actions left many mysteries. Not only you, but there must be thousands who want to find him and ask the truth. Unfortunately, some say he left with just a follower, a light boat drifting into the sea.

【This Issue’s Question】

What is it like to use Huhu Car?

【Editor’s Note】

We welcome everyone’s contributions. Professional, rich, and exciting is the consistent pursuit of “Jianghu Affairs.”

See you next time on Zifu.

【No Grudges: End】